#Reference fixing writers
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Research proposal writing help in Dubai
At Dissertation.ae, we understand the importance of quality when it comes to academic writing. Our services include MBA thesis help in Dubai, research proposal assistance, and DBA thesis proofreading help. Our dedicated team of writers is committed to delivering exceptional dissertation writing help, ensuring that your work is meticulously researched and flawlessly executed. Trust us to fix references and refine your work to perfection. https://www.dissertation.ae/research-proposal-dissertation-writing-services.aspx
#MBA thesis help in Dubai#Research proposal help#DBA thesis proofreading help#Dissertation writing help#Reference fixing writers
0 notes
Text
yingdu episode 5 spoilers
ohhh my god this is everything I want from cheng xiaoshi. yes. perfect. sorry, but I'm a cheng xiaoshi whump liker and link click always brings out the best of them in episode 5 of each season.
there's just something cathartic about how when cheng xiaoshi becomes an emotional mess, it's also when he's most disconnected with the people he knows (physically, as he's diving in a photo and his only link to his home timeframe is a disembodied lu guang in his head) but it's also when he's most connected with strangers (when their own personal trauma lines up with his). to me, it's a showcase of empathy and a strange manifestation of his own agency. something about how the disconnect gives him the space to blow up, and the connection heightens it and grants him permission, almost, to express his anger more freely for his own sake and for another person's behalf.
like. listen, okay, I'm gonna ramble now because cheng xiaoshi is my favorite character in this entire show, but listen. sometimes some fans will conflate adjectives to his character that are usually associated with his character archetype, but they aren't necessarily true about him as a character. and I don't mean it in a, "he's not like that because he grows out of those traits" kind of way. I mean it in a, "he was never like that" kind of way.
one of those adjectives, for me, is when people call him immature. he isn't! to me! imo! he's got big emotions, yes, but I personally don't think the presence of big emotions indicates anything about maturity. because you know what? as long as his primary trauma (feelings of abandonment) isn't touched, he is very good at handling interpersonal conflicts, and that's what's interesting to me.
qiao ling hides relevant information from him? he removes himself from the situation to give himself space and sort out his feelings. he tells her he's fine and that he'll be back.
post-earthquake arc? I'll just copy paste what I already said in a previous ask:
what initially got me was when I was first watching S1, I thought the earthquake arc would have devastating effects on [shiguang's] relationship. listen, I didn’t know what I was getting into with link click, but I thought that was expected. it’s ripe for drama! but how do they handle the fight? they put their side business on hold but they still keep being roommates. they still do their day job. they still talk. they’re still upset but they give each other space but not to the point where they can’t stand existing in each other’s spaces. that’s when I realized that oh, they really trust each other. they have a very solid foundation for their relationship that not even the earthquake arc can break. they’re pretty level-headed about this, actually, all things considered? all the doomed yaoi stuff came later, but that’s just the cherry on top. it’s the way they handled conflict and disappointment in S1 that got me.
okay, protect-namine, why go through that whole tangent? BECAUSE! circling back to yingdu episode 5, we finally, finally get to see cheng xiaoshi let out some of his anger. and it's precisely because his primary trauma point was on the table. he can forgive a friend lying, and he can forgive being told not to change the past. because at the end of the day, qiao ling and lu guang stayed. they never left him.
but he cannot handle abandonment. he cannot understand why people leave. he cannot understand why he's been clinging on to false hope this entire time. and more importantly, he cannot understand how someone can be such a hypocrite about it. "a man who'd rather be kind to strangers than face his own son" like fuck man. cheng weimin you fucked up so bad.
it's the disconnect/connect thing again too. thematically, it makes sense. when does cheng xiaoshi blow up? when he's alone, far away from the people that ground him. alone, the feeling he hates the most. he's not even in his own body. he blows up when he's inhabiting a stranger's. he doesn't even get to be angry as cheng xiaoshi.
how fucked up is that. man. I love him so much.
also I'm going crazyyyy over the family themes going on in link click. much to say about the show itself across all seasons (the twins, qiao ling and cheng xiaoshi, even the liu siblings), but for this episode... god. okay this is slight speculation territory now and I'll try to keep this very short, because this is only tangential to the post. but. imagine xia fei getting the good parent figure in cheng weimin that cheng xiaoshi never had. and he doesn't know!! he's bitter inside about his dad and he's having hotpot with xia fei and he doesn't know he was in that school!! fuck that's so good. that's so juicy.
okay, sorry, I have a lot of feelings about cheng xiaoshi. he's my link click blorbo of all time, and I love when he experiences The Horrors™ because it's also when other sides of him gets to shine.
on a brighter note:
VEIN AND CHENG XIAOSHI MEETING AGAIN!!! their greeting was so cute. also omg does xia fei know? that his boss is maybe possibly a cannibal? actually, wait, I don't think I'd be surprised if he does know.
ah and finally. finally:
I've been having many thoughts on how yingdu approaches "friendships" and their transactional nature (mostly with regards to liu xiao) but I mostly thought they're headcanon stuff. but now. I'm so so happy that episode 5 is bringing out more of the quid pro quo theme. liu xiao with the gift giving. wang qing's "friends" (bullies) demanding her to cheat on the exam for them. and now, vein and cheng xiaoshi having a friendly greeting but also exchanging favors. so good. so good. it goes along with how there's so much handshakes and handholding this season (not just with lu guang and cheng xiaoshi, but with cheng xiaoshi and the the antagonist trio too, who have all met him by "helping" him in some way). something something trust and favors. probably something that deserves its own post though, but I wanted to point this out because I am soooo here for that. it's goes hand in hand (ha!) with the whole fraud/lies vs innocence/honesty theme this season, and deals/contracts being an equalizer to the two. very good. very tasty.
edit: ooh they also point to this in the YE6 trailer too. nice, nice. if you knew someone's true colors, would you still be their friend?
man, I love episode 5. it just hits all the stuff I personally wanted to see. the only flaw is that we still haven't seen the older version of wang qing, but yeah I kinda expected that they'll hide her until episode 6. they're giving her the liu xiao treatment from season 2. sigh. really wish she'd keep showing up in S3, we need more female characters in this show 🙏
#mine musings#liveblogging link click#link click#link click spoilers#the fic writer in me is so pleased. this is validating so much of the direction i want my fic to go#i'm sorry if this reads as very rambly. this post could probably be shorter but i don't wanna fix this up to make it read better#my emotions for cxs are too much to be organized in a logical manner#no meta-formatted essay like my post with qiao ling. this is just me blorbofying him#literally half stream of consciousness writing. cxs you are so loved. i love u. i hope you get cuddles but i love when you face The Horrors#because i know you can handle it. and also you needed to blow up like YESTERDAY so honestly this is therapy for you now#actually you know what. i'll probably reference this in the future for fic purposes so yeah i'll tag it#link click meta#actually i'll add one more thing re: maturity but i'll put it here in the tags#something i love about cxs. is that no matter the trauma he goes through. he is still kind#like this could've been anyone's villain origin story. but cxs works hard to be kind in spite of his experiences#like back again with conflating big emotions with immaturity. but choosing to be kind despite it all? it takes a lot of heart to do that
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
destiel fic excerpt - claire kinda tricks dean into going to pride with her
okay i've been in a massive block lately for any writing whatsoever but i'm TRYING to get back into it. mentally i'm just not really anywhere but i would like to be anchored back down into writing mode.
so here's a little bit of the destiel fic i have in progress. it's a dean focused post-15x19 (lol what finale) fix-it that deals a lot with dean's grief. this particular excerpt is quiiiiite a ways in, cas has been dead for almost a year at this point (happy destiel ending guaranteed fam). dean is still absolutely grieving but he's been doing a lot of work.
(warning dean does use the word queer here in a way that's like, halfway between accepting and internalised homophobia - it's not made out to be a big deal in this but i thought it would mention anyways)
***
"I'm not a parade guy, Claire, and I sure as hell ain't a flag waving queer. I'm not - I'm not this." Dean gestures vaguely to the revelry and upbeat atmosphere around him. He feels like a fish on a bike.
Claire shrugs with her whole body. "I don't give two shits what you think you are or aren't, grandpa. Every baby gay needs to attend their first Pride, it's like a right of passage or whatever."
Dean gawks at her. "What the fuck," he sputters. "Baby- did you just call me grandpa and a baby gay in the same sentence? What the fuck is that?"
Claire rolls her eyes like Dean's a fucking idiot. He feels like one right now, in his jeans and flannel with a knife tucked into his waistband, surrounded by rainbow everything and kids making out in those weird napkin tops that don't pass their navels.
She says, "exactly what it sounds like, loser. You're old, but you finally had your big gay realization, it's fresh and shit, erego, baby gay. Reborn a queer, hallelujah."
Dean stares at her like she's speaking another language, but he latches on to one bit that's plain. "Ain't that fresh," he mutters.
Because. Because it's not like Dean never had an inkling he was into dudes as well as chicks before. Not like he never had any tiny lightbulb moments while drooling over Doctor Sexy or being 16 and watching a hunter in his 20s clean a gun in front of him. It's just that every time that lightbulb flicked on, Dean had been very quick and very thorough in burying it 6 feet under like it was a body in a grave after a salt'n burn. Expert, even. Like he was was with real graves. He could go years without that lightbulb resurfacing, and he could forget. He could flirt with women and forget, kiss women and forget, take women back to his motel room when he was 24, haunting small towns all alone, and forget. It was easy. Because women's waists and women's hair and women's voices made it easy. When they pitched their words low and came on to him with confidence and a shadow, a daintier echo of violence than what he was used to, it was easy. What would have been the point in—in anything else?
Nothing. No point.
Until his best friend told him he loved him and his graveyard of buried lightbulbs was flooded, upturned, exposed. Electrified. He sees the bones of every man he ever desired like they're cartoons sticking their fingers into sockets.
Bzzzt. That hunter with his rolled up sleeves, exposed forearms, cleaning his gun while chatting easily to John. Dean sitting there, trying his best to be a part of the conversation, puff himself up like he belonged at the table, 16 in a too-big jacket, a real hunter, a real man, dragging his eyes away from the hunter's hands again and again until he could unfocus them entirely with the beers his dad let him sip.
Bzzzt. A shop teacher of his, once, during a 9th grade stint somewhere in Nebraska. Mr. Callaghan. Showing the class how to use a circular saw, sparks flying, Dean's eyes wide, mouth a little dry.
Bzzzt. Benny in purgatory. Slicing and hacking his way through monsters to get Dean to Cas before they could escape. Dean's weird, twisted up, sickening feelings of - I love you because you know my secret. Because you know I love someone else even though I won't let my own self know. I love you because you have big hands and a big heart and an appetite for blood and because I can bully you into staying, searching, endlessly, for the one. The one I love the most. I love you until I find him and then I still love you a little because you helped make that possible and because you did it for me.
Bzzzt. Cas. Castiel who walked into a barn, sparks again (maybe men are electric and women are grounding, or - fuck, who knows, maybe sparks are just hot) a few days after Dean rose from the dead. Castiel who walked towards him with steady eyes of blue fire and withstood every act of violence Dean could commit against him (or so he thought). Castiel who saw into his soul, maybe not even into it, just the whole scope of it, macro and micro. Cas who shoved him into walls, laid hands over his mouth and a knee between his thighs (accidental?), Cas who spoke to him vulnerably one moment and then disappeared the next, Cas who stared into his eyes and made Dean's chest feel molten, his tongue feel heavy. Cas who wore a stupid trench coat, even when given a fresh start, an opportunity for reinvention. A trench coat Dean grew to hate because of the sheer amount of times he imagined pulling it gently off the angel's shoulders. It always stayed. Dean could burn that fucking coat.
He kept that coat. He carried it. He misses it.
Dean comes to in the middle of a fucking pride parade with the desperate, overwhelming urge to press a coat that he no longer has into his nose. He needs—
"Earth to fuckin' Dean Winchester," Claire is saying, eyebrow cocked kinda like Cas, which is weird because he doesn't remember Jimmy ever doing that. He guesses he didn't know Jimmy very long though. Maybe he's just seeing Cas wherever he can manage it.
"Sorry, kid," he says lamely. No follow up. He feels the hole and it aches and aches and he needs to get a hold on it before it engulfs him.
"Dean," Claire says gently, and she sounds like she knows where he is. Like she can find him back here among his grief that is so far removed from, and unrelated to the situation.
He looks at her and forces a grin that cracks his face. Painfully. Half rolls his eyes.
"C'mon kid, show me the ropes then," he says. He's here now. Probably wont ever be again, but he's with Claire.
And he loves Claire. Because she reminds him of his not so long ago self—young and angsty and passionate and angry and full of mistakes past, present and future—and because she reminds him of Cas. Her face, her independence, her stubbornness, her smile. Because Cas loves (loved, Christ) her, even if her feelings towards him might be more convoluted.
She doesn't let him off easy, a trait she kind of shares with both of them.
"Dean... I miss him too".
Years ago, maybe even just months ago, Dean would have rolled his eyes and changed the subject. He would have deflected: "so how do you get on one of those floats" or "why is there so much mesh here" or maybe mouthed the words to You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) right along with the drag queens in the parade without even realising it.
But now—
"Claire—I can't. Not if we wanna— not if today's gonna be any good."
His voice sounds far away and raw and he feels tears in his eyes even still. Even still after all these months. He wants. Wants Cas back so hard it scalds his insides.
Claire's mouth sets hard and she nods once. There's a grim-feeling cloud around the two of them, a black hole in the middle of this rainbow candy-land ass street block on a sunny day.
And then Claire scares it away. Physically waves it off like she can see it and then plasters a grin on her face that's almost conspiring. She can rally, Dean'll give her that. It's not as if Claire completely fits here either—she looks more like him than she does most of the other revelers. Black tank top, red flannel tied around her waist, black shit kickers. Hunter get-up. But she grabs some stickers from a drag queen that's handing them out and slaps one on her chest - it says "I support gay rights and gay wrongs" on it and the circle behind it is striped orange and white and pink. Dean snorts. He doesn't know for sure what that means but he guesses it's probably for lesbians cause he knows everybody gets their own flag in this world. He's learned that through osmosis at group*.
She grabs his hand and slaps another sticker on the back of it. The circle is blue, purple, and pink, and he does know the bi flag, has figured that one out at least. The words in the centre say "oh no, everyone is so hot".
Dean rolls his eyes so hard he almost throws his neck out. "There's no way in hell you think I'm keeping this on," he says.
"You are keeping it on, old man, and if i see you've taken it off I'll take you to the face painting tent and make them give you full bisexual glam." The threatening tone of her voice contrasts too deeply with the contents of that sentence and Dean huffs out a surprised laugh.
"Oh yeah? How do you think you're gonna make that happen?"
"You're not the only one packing here, Winchester."
Dean keeps the sticker on his hand. Stares at it for a minute, then looks all around him, taking in the colour and the joy like a thing that's not used to the sun would. A rodent or a worm. Maybe a monster.
"Don't get me wrong but this doesn't really seem like your scene," he says.
Claire shrugs. "I dunno. Maybe a couple years ago I woulda felt the same. Used to think it was all real frivolous and silly y'know?"
She pauses for long enough that Dean's pretty sure the conversation's over. Finally, she speaks again, just a bit quieter: "But, I kinda figure, I can be more than just one thing, right? I can be a hunter and still enjoy some of the nice shit in life. Frivolous and silly is kinda fun."
She's not wrong. Dean doesn't get a lot of moments to be frivolous and silly, but he takes them when he can. Feels like maybe if he'd been born in an different universe he could've known those feelings full time like they were an engrained part of him rather than just fleeting visitors.
Then Claire says, "you're more than one thing, y'know. You're lots of things"
Dean huffs a little laugh and shakes his head, not really sure what he's denying.
"Don't make me give you a whole rundown on your own personality dude. You're not just some workhorse hunter, you got other stuff. Like, gay shit like this doesn't have to be one of your things. But everything's worth a shot once, right?"
He wants to agree. Thinks maybe he'd like to be a lot of things, but everything is kind of blur right now, has been for a while. What are the things he'd like to be? Like to enjoy?
He shakes his head again, not so much denying as delaying.
"Okay Oprah, what got you so wise?"
Claire smirks. She nudges him forward to follow the parade and says, "the internet mostly."
#*group refers to the late in life come out group i'm making dean go to in this fic hahahaha he's gonna hate it at first 💃🏻#destiel#destiel fic#rey writes#finale fix it#dean and claire#claire novak#fic snippet#writers block got me sharing shit i've barely proof read so sorry for any mistakes and shitty writing#i'm taking a week long holiday SOON and im soooo hoping i get some inspiration to continue this#or literally any of my other projects that are like 1/100th finished
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
My (very late) complicated take on Deadpool and Wolverine
So I watched Deadpool and Wolverine last week (I wrote this literally last year and just ended up...not posting it for some reason), as a somewhat casual Marvel fan who has somewhat followed the MCU, and I have some...hot takes? I think?
Firstly, a disclaimer, because I do not want to get flamed for this: I know plenty of people will disagree with me, and that's fine. You can think I'm overreacting or that I'm plain wrong on your own time, and if you really want me to reconsider any statements I make (although half of this is just feeling to be honest) then I am open to changing my mind based on other people's explanations. For context- I've not seen a Deadpool film before although I knew a bit about what he was like in the Spider-Man comics, and I was a fan of the X-Men '92 series (saw the first 2 seasons as we didn't have the DVDs for the rest) and all of X-Men evolution. I have read bits and pieces of a Wolverine encyclopedia, if that means anything, and I've looked into other reviews and done a bit of digging into other people''s responses to this film. Really I'm not here to comment on this as a Marvel fan but as a fan of media in general, and honestly just as a person with my own nitpicky reservations and who's a bit fed up with the MCU.
If I sound exceedingly harsh, please just click away. It's not worth getting into an argument over this, especially when I'm not a dedicated enough fan. Finally you can get to enjoy these films without having to listen to randos on the internet like me, and I can vent my petty frustrations seperately and we can all exist in peace.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deadpool and Wolverine is hardly the worst film to come out of the MCU since Endgame, actually it really is one of the better ones if not the best one lately, but I really wanted to enjoy this film more than I did and I am trying to figure out why I didn't. Perhaps I am not the intended audience, or I am not familiar enough with Deadpool, and those are all fair points. I'm going to come at it from an angle that goes more into it though because this isn't *really* about Deadpool, this is about the MCU. That being said, let's get into it.
So...there is a point at which you realise something about the MCU as a whole if you hadn't before, and that is that it is a corporation. It's been hard not to realise that recently, with the volume of stuff it has been churning out no matter how subpar. While Deadpool and Wolverine is far more interesting than, say, Love and Thunder, I couldn't shake the feeling that despite this actually being more than a soulless mishmash, there's an underlying air I don't think I can unsee in the MCU that taints everything for me, and it's that there is nothing new to really say. There is no real diversity of opinion or line of thought- there are good guys who protect the world as it is, and bad guys who want to change it. For instance:
To me, an outsider of sorts, the TVA (basically functioning as the Time Police, although this is contentious) are shown to have a ridiculous amount of power that some guy Paradox can just build a time ripper that can end any timeline?? There are layers to this, but the bottom line is, no member of the TVA should be able to procure something like that and use it just because they feel like it, and quite frankly the unchecked power of the TVA as an organisation is unsettling and frightening. Then, Deadpool tries to fight this part of the TVA to stop them from killing his timeline, but then the real villain Cassandra Nova enters the fray with the intention to destroy every timeline because...she wants ominpotence? I don't know, these villain motivations aren't getting any stronger. And then Deadpool and Wolverine stop her, and Paradox gets arrested, and wow what a great ending! Except what feels missing...the lack of questioning or distrust surrounding the authority the TVA has, which was the root cause of this mess in the first place. But Marvel will never morally or philosophically question the extent of authority a system has over it's people or all of humanity, and will never really explore an avenue of changing what is flawed about the system. The problem, to them, isn't the power, but whether it's held by 'good' people. Paradox being arrested solves the conflict with the TVA, because his intentions were destructive and aimed to use his power for destructive purposes, but it wouldn't have mattered if he were a good guy now, would it?
This is the philosophy that pervades all of the MCU- power belongs with the good guys who protect the world from the bad guys. The issue is never the power itself, or the system that allows for such blatant misuses of it, because to question established systems (or actually address any of the pitfalls of American capitalism) doesn't reflect their needs as a corporation worth lots of money. When this was previously brought up in the form of the Sokovia accords (although "putting the powerful people under strict government regulations" doesn't strike me as utopic in any way either), correct me if I'm wrong but it had barely any consequences to future films. Infinity war happened, more fights where there is no human intervention whatsoever, and then the accords are just repealed off-screen. And this goes on to feel like a very unsustainable world, one where there's not much joy to be derived, as there is never really hope for changing the powers and systems that control our lives. The TVA can shred your timeline in an instant, supernatural fights can wipe out your cities at any moment, but nobody cares about the damage or will question it- your lives are in the hands of heroes who are 'good' and make funny quips I guess so you know you can trust them. Wolverine at the end of this film is told by a TVA member that his timeline cannot be restored as what happened made him the man he is now, and he's just seemingly fine with that and they go eat shawarma. A whole universe of deaths that he's been guilty about the whole film, that he's wanted to get back, but I don't feel like we get a proper resolution to his grief at all and they just become collateral damage to the plot in the end even after being shown how much he loved them. Everyone says thank you to the Time Police, trusting they know what's best and will do the right thing, and moves on as if this wasn't an unsettling encounter at all.
Now I know I might've gotten details about the TVA wrong, but I couldn't sit through all of Loki, okay? I was lost the minute we got to girl-Loki being symbolic of Loki's gender fluidity and also they kissed? Speaking of that though...another thing I found disappointing with Deadpool and Wolverine was the queerness aspect. Deadpool is, in the comics atleast, pansexual, and I know Ryan Reynolds said he was into exploring that, and trust me this film is filled with queer things being said. HOWEVER. There is a difference in the way straight romance and queer romance is portrayed in the film; that was clear to me when I left the cinema. There are plenty of jokes involving Deadpool making very homoerotic comments towards Wolverine, or talk of pegging the TVA officers, or even shouting out "the gays" in a speech, but it is not given anywhere NEAR the same weight as his attraction/love for Vanessa. And this wouldn't necessarily be an issue (after all, sexual attraction doesn't have to be serious) if it weren't that everything he said when going off on a tangent were gay, but everything he did seriously was straight. There was something distinctly noticeable about it, and honestly it felt like being queerbaited despite the fact I never even expected to hear about pegging in this film. To me, I care about creators committing to showing a main character man experiencing attraction to another man with the same weight and value given to it, verbally and non-verbally, jokingly and unironically, as you would to him experiencing attraction to a woman. Anyone could watch this and take all of these to be ironic gay jokes even if they aren't, and I don't think this counts as committed representation of a minority. Not that I was looking for it in this film, but to be shown the potential of being represented in some manner onscreen and then realising it wouldn't really be taken as seriously as any straight characters did quite hurt. Maybe that's just how Deadpool is, maybe I should never have wanted anything more substantial... The internet went crazy shipping Deadpool and Wolverine despite them never being taken for a serious potential couple, and I think that's what they wanted.
The thing is, I understand many aspects of why people liked this film, tying itself up. Wade Wilson wanted to matter, and by hyping himself up as Marvel Jesus and bringing back so many forgotten characters to the screen, he mattered by lifting them up and showing that they mattered too. Many of the jokes were funny, like the meta ones about Marvel's downfall and honestly I laughed at the pegging one too and some others (although I will say: Marvel making fun of how bad Marvel is lately does have a limit given you guys caused this downfall in the first place). And, to be fair, I'm sure the TVA thing has some explanations in Loki or upcoming plot points that might change everything compared to what I know. This movie was, in many ways, very fun. The fact that it had so much going for it is half of what left me feeling so dissatisfied, because despite epitomising many of the things Marvel are positively known for, I didn't really care or feel anything at the end at all. Bringing back various forgotten characters for a last hurrah is great and all but when it's all for a not very nuanced villain and when none of the heroes see anything wrong with the TVA and all of that...I don't know, it feels bleak. Watching these films I don't feel inspired or hopeful, I only feel bleak and apathetic, and I know I can just go watch other films (which is what I've been doing) but I don't understand why we all go back to the cinemas to watch the same nail being hammered into the ground with the next Marvel movie. Even when you have reason to expect difference, the underlying nature of it is the same. The only significant thing I see happening is even more characters being ushered into the already complicated Multiverse, often for cameos and jokes reliant on nostalgia and endless referential humour. Oh, and Marvel Studios getting more of a monopoly over superhero stories, that too.
The older X-men TV shows I watched and, even more recently, the Spiderverse films felt like they had so much more depth or commentary to them, so I know superhero media isn't doomed to be this way, not now or ever, so I hope we can take this as a sign to ask for more from our media in terms of storylines, queer characters, and messaging. Something new, something inspiring, and something that feels like it's made not just because it was a smart business decision. A lot of these things I recommend finding from smaller creators and lesser-known artists, but I feel as though we should start to look for this from Marvel too. I get I'm not a Marvel genius or an X-men genius, or even a Deadpool genius, so it isn't really my place, but I still think it's worth asking for more because if their profit lies with the realisations of our passion and with revolution, then that's where the company will go. As a reviewer, this is how I feel.
#getting out of my writer's block with a needless tirade I see#I'm feeling veeeeery shen qingqiu right now#if you made it to the end ily and if you got my svsss reference ily even more#know this is NOT to shame anyone who's been enjoying late marvel or anyone who loved deadpool and wolverine or poolverine etc.#have fun! enjoy what you enjoy! don't let me get you down and if this film meant a lot to you nobody can take away its value for you#this is to get out my thoughts from then and if anyone feels similarly then yk I hope you feel seen or like you have company#everyone was raving about how good this film was when it came out and I felt like such a downer snowflake whatever when leaving the cinema#I've been getting my action fix from blue-eyed samurai and stuff I haven't missed anything by not watching marvel in a long time#you know what I do go back to? the 90s X-men series (night of the sentinels is a crazy opener) and also X-men evolution!!#evolution is not the highest standard of media or even the most unique but fuck guys it's just silly and fun and has sm more life in it#I've heard from a number of people that The Boys is good- I have no watching experience to back it up but the premise sounds interesting!#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#deadpool#wolverine#this is SO late#posts originating from my brain#analysis time by me so I can track them in my tags
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
— A trip to New Mexico, how fun right? Well, sorta! | Marvel Phase 1 FanFic
Timeline: Set during Iron Man 2 and in between Thor
Summary: Coulson was assigned to go see what the hell was happening in New Mexico and decided he might need, more like want, some assistance and who better to keep watch of the town than a blast from the past SHIELD agent?
Pairing: Coulson & Underwood, Darcy Lewis & Jason Underwood and etc.
Established uncle & nephew relationship: Tony Stark & Jason Underwood
Characters/mentioned: Clint Barton, Rei Stark, Jane Foster, Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanoff and etc.
Click here if you like to read the previous fic
—//—
The day was young and the sun was still shining among the city across Miami into the Stark Mansion. Pepper was off at Stark Industries with Natalie Rushman, who’s real name is Natasha Romanoff, meanwhile Jason took care of the business around the household. It’s been rather hectic lately so someone at least needed to make sure no one starved and everything was well taken care of.
He thanked god his grandnephew, Rei Stark, beautiful mother was taking care of the boy this week. Because then, they would have another mystery on their hands with how curious that child can secretly be.
He was answering a few questions about a financial calls in the living room and flipping across channels on the TV that involves news about the latest Stark Expo, stuff involving Dr. Bruce Banner, The Feltons daily news and information about The Strange Family son, Leonard Strange.
As well as a small crisis forming in New Mexico appeared on various news channels. He rolled his eyes knowing S.H.I.E.L.D. was probably getting word of it already and coming to—
Suddenly the floor started rumbling loudly underneath his feet and the other things started shaking. He quickly turned over to catch a lamp that almost tipped over and crashed.
His eyes widen and shouted into the phone, “I’ll have to call you back, Laura!”
He swiftly made his way down the stairs to see the basement turned open floor lab was being destroyed. And in the middle of it stood his only nephew holding back a jackhammer as AC/DC blasted into the headphones he was wearing. So he wasn’t actually listening or notice him standing there.
“HEY! BOB THE BUILDER CUT IT OUT!” Jason shouted stumbling through the rubble, deeply crackled opened walls and dirty floors that surrounded them.
If his eyes couldn’t widen even more, his eyes darted down to the 1970 model of Stark Expo he helped design decades ago laying on the ground. The model that both Stark siblings, were discussing on becoming something evolutionary different for the world. He wasn’t as smart as them to understand everything they studied and created but he understood it was far too important to not model the idea.
He reached forward lace his fingers crossed the model and questioned, “Jarvis?”
“Yes, sir?” Repiled the A.I.
“What is this? I mean, what is he building?”
“It’s to be believed Mr. Stark has discovered a New Element and is determined to use it to power his suit for a greater timeframe.”
“A new element? Damn. Alright, turn the music off.”
JARVIS did what was told as he unwired Tony’s music as the brunette genius shouted confused and insulted by the actions. Until his eyes fell on his uncle with a nod, “Hey.”
“Hey.” He replied removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.
“You’re creating a new element, i see.”
“Yup! After 20 years, dad is still taking me to school and I’m surprised I’ve haven’t seen it sooner.”
“Because it wasn’t time for you figure it out eariler. Need help?”
“Seriously?”
“You ruined my floor.”
“That’s means your helping!”
“But your cleaning up afterwards.”
“Damn it.”
The two got to work, opening walls, expanding wires, lengthened the tunnels across the room. Tony coined it ‘hardware mood’, using his hands to create the lengthy contraction instead of his machinery. ‘Going old school’ as Jason liked to call it, pulling apart drilling into the tunnels and adding placements to the sections.
It placed looked insanely messy but you knew where everything is.
By the time, Tony was drilling in something the door to the basement opened as Agent Phil Coulson walked in saying, “I heard you broke the perimeter.”
“Uh, yeah that was 3 years ago, where you’ve been?” Tony replied, walking over to the tunnels and vents they built. 
“Doing some stuff.”
“Yeah well, me too and it worked.”
Both men chatted, as Tony wondered around the room grabbing items as Coulson picked up a half built Shield that could’ve belong to Captain America. That was when Jason stepped into the picture returning with another box of tools, cables and basic hardware.
The blonde smirked snatching up the item, showing it to Tony who’s face light up, having Coulson help them put the Shield underneath the tunnels to level it. Perfectly leveled.
“I’m busy, what you want?” Tony said, receiving a light slap on the arm from Jason due to the attitude he gave Coulson, “Ow!”
Coulson held back a small chuckled, “Goodbye. I’ve been reassigned, director Fury wants me in New Mexico.”
“Fantastic. Land of enchantment.”
“Or so I’m told.”
Jason spoke up, “The small crisis in New Mexico, involving the decency sized craters with a hammer smacked in the middle of it?”
“Good, your informed.” Coulson added with a half smile.
“I saw the news.”
“I would like you to come, Stark seems to be handling things here perfectly well.”
“Yeahhh. Nope! I’m retired.”
“Never too late to jump back in the game.”
“And I’m busy.”
Tony gave his uncle a look to go do it and get out of the house, that he can handle everything from here. He weighted his options, not wanting to leave his house unsupervised and tired of going deep into SHIELD missions, he rather likes retirement.
“I don’t know, man. Again, I’ve been retired for more than 15 freaking years.” Jason exclaimed.
Coulson thought for a moment, he really wanted to have company for a couple of days and said, “You only need to scout the town and see what’s happening.”
“Undercover work?”
“Yes. Only for 4 days, i promise than you can come back.”
“2 days. I’m only doing simple work, let me remind you that i rather not mess with the others there.”
“Fine by me. Waiting for you in the car.”
Tony giggled at the speechless face his uncle made. It was priceless! He told him to go ahead with Coulson for a few short days, he promised he won’t reck the house, hopefully. Plus he knew the man had a suitcase still packed from their trip to France upstairs.
He sent a playful glare to his nephew, grabbing his things and met Phil outside.
The man drove them to New Mexico, taking stops to stretch their legs and eat on the way there. Both men chatted to keep the time at ease, having respect for one another and actually enjoying the company. Phil Coulson wasn’t a half bad, but that doesn’t mean he won’t heist to tease him.
“So, how’s the thing with May going?” Jason let out ever so causal, sipping a bottle of water.
Phil blinked hearing him and awkwardly blushed, “I—i-how did you know that?”
“I heard of the story that you were on a undercover mission with her and a few interactions were made.”
“It was completely professional.”
“Oh, so taking 2 minutes to unhook her bra was professional?”
“There were cameras! I was trying to sell that we were together.”
Jason snickered, “Oh yeah according to her, you sold it.”
“That was an act for the camera!” Coulson added trying to defend himself, “So you and May talk, huh?”
“Quite a bit. Her emails about you are hilarious.”
“Remind me to call her later. And i will have you know, I was being a gentleman.”
“Oh yeah, of course Phil. You were committed.”
“I think i did alright. You think i was committed?”
“Your one of a kind, Coulson. Don’t ever change.”
The rest of the ride meant a few jokes here and there, stopping for snack break and bringing up movies along with latest shows on TV. There were a few mishaps and things that needed to be taken care of during their stops.
They arrived soon enough to New Mexico, as an SHIELD base was already being formed around the outsets of the town nearby the crater that held the hammer. The moment they exist the car, Jason slid down darting to examine the hammer in awe. Plenty of people tried surrounding and lifting the metallic gray block from the ground but it didn’t seem to budge at all. 
“Wow..” muttered Jason, giving a once over to Phil who snapped pictures.
The carvings were immaculate, the lining was framed perfectly, the engraved symbols were placed in a fitting manner. The hammer looked one of a kind. Magical. Ungodly amount of time and effort was made into making it. Jason must admit he gave credit to the people who shaped such a glorified item.
Hell, the man stepped over looping the brown handled into his grip trying to lift it himself. He grunted and huffed, taking a couple of breaths trying his mightiest to lift the god damn hammer. But nothing! It didn’t even bother to slightly budge for him. He sighed, releasing the grip of the handle and stomped up to the previous stop he want in.
“Anything?” Coulson asked, humoring his attempt to lift the hammer.
“Nope.” He replied, huffing and massaging his grip, “That thing is stuck!”
“Yikes. Here’s the deal, your gonna get a change on clothes then scout the town.”
“How about you? Gonna try and lift it yourself?”
“Haha! No, I’m handling a few pressing matters and help set up the base of operations.” 
Jason nodded walking back to the car, he seemed out of breath from trying to lift the god damn hammer. It was super glued to the ground, not even trucks and machines with horsepower could even remove it from the ground.
He found himself a nicely fresh change of causal clothes. Being a brown jacket with a olive green t-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of his favorite classic sneaker. Along with a pair of simple sunglasses that were gifted by Pepper last Christmas. He carried his old school SHIELD ID, walkie-talkie and a handheld gun in his pocket. Just in case.
The man wondered around town, taking notice of the simplicity of it all. The houses, buildings, stores that held the items needed to built a good foundation, a general grocery store, a diner that held the delicious smell of pies, a bar and plenty of other places to visit. It made him smile. He liked it a lot, especially since the afternoon sun shinned just right above the cloud, giving the waves a cozy breath of fresh air.
He enjoyed it.
He walked around, entertaining himself at a coffee shop nearby the gas station. He was waiting in line, reading the signs on the wall and giving small nods to older folk or pregnant women who walked past him, letting them go in front of him. He wasn’t in a hurry to get out or anything, his job was the scout the town and see what type of people they’re dealing with.
And so far? Everyone seemed to be general folk living their day to day lives, working 9-5 meanwhile the teenagers and children were out at school or something.
Everything was going good until he was accidentally bumped into by someone.
He didn’t see the person, only what dropped on the floor next to his feet. A older brunette doll, that was wearing a purple dress, a white lab coat, strapless heels and a ponytail. Alongside a pair of sunglasses on the doll. Looked more like an cool action figure than a doll, designed by wonderfully crafty people.
Little did he know that the young girl who this doll belonged to would be important to him later on. As well as the mother.
He chuckled as his eyes darted up to the person, “Hey sweetheart, I believe this is yours?”
The young girl turned around, her red skirt bouncing in the wind from the movement she was making and fixing her crafty jacket a bit, pushing up her bangs to face the man. Her big brown eyes were covered by square frames. Along with adorable dimples.
“Ohh? Oh! I’m sorry mister..” She repiled shyly with a smile, and gently taking the doll from him.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t want to lose her, she’s smart.” He replied with a smile.
“Yeah my doll is a scientist! She’s love coffee, dresses in purple and uh, stuff.
“Hahaha. That’s amazing, um sweetie?
“Hmm?”
“Sorry to ask, but um where’s your mama?”
“Uh, she’s getting extra coffee from her and a few friends.”
“And she left you alone?”
“I’m not that’s little, you know. I’m 15–16!…ish, very soon.”
“Child. You’re still a child.”
“I’m almost 16, sir.! Sorry for shouting.”
“Don’t be, it’s alright.”
He was just about to ask her name when..
“Mew Mew!”
Came a voice, sounding it belonged a women. She ran up to them, holding a box of donuts and a two cups of coffee. The women seemed to a short brunette with long curls, a beanie that bounced with her every step and glasses. She was pretty! Her features matched the young girl perfectly, it made him smile knowing that her mother returned quickly.
“Mew Mew, i told you to stay put, sweetie.” Said the mother with a smile pushing up her glasses, sounding sweetly protective of the girl.
“I’m sorry, i had to throw out my trash mom.” Apologized the young girl.
“At least tell me where you’re going next time. This place is sorta crowded. You almost gave me a huge fright!”
“I’m sorry. I will tell you next time. But I’m okay! I promise!”
The brunette noticed the man and said, “I’m so sorry about her! She just ran off and i had no idea what happened..i hope she wasn’t too much trouble or anything.”
That was when Jason spoke up with a politic tone replying, “Oh no! It’s completely alright, you know how kid—I mean, teens are. Just be lucky, it was me who found her and not some other guy.”
“You have kids? I mean no offense, your like a young and tall bachelor.”
He chuckled, “That i know of, I have one. He’s at home with family.”
“You’re new around here, huh?” She questioned with a smile.
“It’s obvious isn’t it?”
“YUP! I mean the jacket means your suitable and out of town, no offense.”
“None taken. I’m just here for two days, I needed some rest from a long trip.”
She smiled, “Well you pick a odd place to stop. Oh well, welcome to New Mexico. I’m Darcy and you already met Mew Mew.”
“Melissa!” Cut in the young girl, with a grin.
Jason nodded with a small laugh and decided to use a nickname of his, “Nice to meet both of you. I’m JJ.”
“JJ, huh?” Darcy challenge with a smile, raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll find out my real name later, if your lucky.”
“Well i like it! It’s cute. Oh I’m sorry again for taking up your time.”
“It’s okay, doll. No one was breaking any bylaws or anything. You seem like your in a hurry as well?”
“Oh yes! Meeting up a fews friends of mine for breakfast and stuff. Oh shit, we’re running late. Thanks again, JJ!”
“No problem! Be careful and stay safe out there.”
The women walked away with a smile, glancing back at him thinking about something as her daughter waved at the man. He chuckled, waving goodbye to the pair noticing he was finally next in line and made a quiet order. He thanked the sweet barista with a charming smile, who giggled softly at his politeness, as he made his way around town. 
His thought went back to the women he met earlier, Darcy, and her grinning daughter. They seemed like kind folk, but a part of him felt like he seen something in Darcy’s face before. Like he met a version of her in the past. Maybe her mother or an older sister? He didn’t know what it was, but he felt calm and a bit like himself around her aura.
He smiled.
Moments like that made him feel good. He has seen and met plenty of faces beforehand in his life. People on missions, dates he was dragged into going on, parties he danced at, walks in the park and just faces that made him feel a sense of déjà vu. A charming old feeling, per say.
As he scout the town, he scanned the area and the people, when suddenly he heard it. A loud banging tune. A righteous voice that could sent a smile to any man or women who met them. His face whipped around to hiding across the corner of a store, noticing the group.
A short light haired brunette with a beauty mark, an older man dressed in a patterned shirt and a tall blonde wearing a brownish jacket. And next to them stood Darcy, along with her daughter. But his eyes bounced back to the voice.
The mannerisms of the blonde haired man held such strong attitude towards the others around him. Tall and muscular like he was meant to do business with someone. The voice was righteously kind and oddly enough to seem like he lost his footing. His young facial features made him look like he was sculpture by…
A god.
Jason smirked. Pulling out his phone, he called Coulson, simply saying, “I think I found your sources, Phil…”
——
He returned back to the base of operations.
It was jarring scurrying up the step, having not been in a SHIELD makeshift office for more or less 15 years. Practically 20 years! A heat wave hit him. The man would’ve shivered at the thoughts and memories that had the option to wash over him.
He snapped back towards Coulson watching the man work, watching scanners and scouts shouting loudly across the room. He even noticed a blonde man dressed in black in the corner, tightening his arrowheads giving him a small nod, acknowledging him.
“Phil. We have your guy.” Jason spoke with a clear voice, catching the people in the room’s attention.
He explains to Coulson to try getting into contact with a Dr. Jane Foster and her little group of misfits, collecting as much information they can. Coulson was impressed by hearing this, already on the same page before he showed up finding information about Dr. Foster, calling orders to everyone who was in the area.
Jason nodded, about to walk out when somebody tossed a gun at him. He caught it and examined the weapon. A position for a sharp shooter.
“Hey—wait, no! Coulson, we had a deal. I ain’t doing this. I did the light work you asked for.” Yelled out the blonde following the agent across the halls.
“Yeah well, I had other plans. I figured you’ll like to get a front row seat on the action, high up.” Coulson said, with a small smile, “If he shows up.”
“Whatever you plan on doing, you better keep an eye on them and make sure no harm comes to them. Their group had a child with them.”
“Relax Wood—”
“Underwood.”
“Sorry, Underwood. I won’t harm anyone, we just need to speak to that one guy. I promise we’ll try to play it safe, but we don’t know who we’re dealing with.”
“You’re window with me will be closing very soon, Coulson. So make it quick, then I’m out.”
“Crystal clear, Underwood. But I do have a question, why did you come?”
He blinked and just shrugged, he really didn’t know the true answer to that question. He thought about it, trying to word it in his mind the best he can, leaving out a few details for himself.
“Because my nephew wanted me out of the house..and I-I had no other choice but to make sure SHIELD that knows what they’re doing…I’ve seen the records and it’s utter chaos.” He answered softly.
Coulson nodded and pressed, “We’re trying to fix it as we go along, I promise. Why did you retire? You know either way, it won’t last. You will always have a part of you that wants to come back to this..I mean look at your life now.”
Jason didn’t answer him this time, just walked away with a grip on the rifle. He knew the plenty of reasons why he retired and honestly he enjoyed retirement, hoping to get this job done. But it won’t say most of it out loud himself.
———
This time, we was perched on a high level outside with the archer he saw earlier. Clint Barton.
The man wasn’t half bad. Snarky, has a murder stare he can appreciate, very knowledgeable about stuff and honestly a pretty chill guy. Along with a bit grumpy due to the rain.
In the New Mexico, it was raining again. The last two days have on and off again rain with sun and wind. Mother Nature didn’t seem too happy. Some agents didn’t mind it meanwhile the others were annoyed by it.
He doesn’t mind the rain too much.
“So, you’re the guy Nat was telling me about?” Clint said after a few minutes of silence between them.
Jason was hunched over readjusting his gun, and looked over his shoulder heading him, “What?”
“Natasha. She told me about you.”
“Uh, Clint, I don’t know a Natasha, buddy.”
He chuckled, “Ohhhh! You don’t know? Your women from legal, Natalie Rushman, is actually an agent of ours..”
“The fuck?” Jason let out, taking a moment to connect the dots and groaned, “God damn it! Pepper hired her, and didn’t even notice the clues.”
“Ah, well, she’s good at her job! Could fool anyone. She’s a widow for gods sakes!”
‘So was my big sister..’ He thought to himself, before adding, “Yeah, she fooled me. Uh, what did she say about me?”
“That you’re agile, smart, kind.” Clint snorted, “And bit of a grump. No offense! She likes to tell me about her missions and the people she meets, but she doesn’t know much about you..”
“And I like to keep it that way. For your knowledge and hers, I’m uh, just a family friend of Stark’s.”
“A very close one it seems. You didn’t seem like you wanted to leave the house.”
“Yeah well, someone needs to keep an eye on them. Enough about me, Clint, what about you?”
“Simple man like you, i guess. I remember wanting to work with SHIELD for a long time and I’ve been working 9-5 for some time now, trying to perfect my craft.  Oh, I have a beautiful fiancé not a lot of people know that.”
Anyone can see the soft grin on Clint’s face mentioning the last part. He seemed very proud of it, as if he was planning on starting a family with whoever this fiancé was. In result, it had Jason smiling.
“Treat her right, Barton.” Jason told him with a smile.
“I try.” Clint replied, “You got anyone?”
“Uh..um, it’s complicated.”
“How complicated?”
“I take girls out on dates but it never last.”
“Hmm! You need to try finding a girl outside of your usual spots.”
They waited. Wait long hours of the day, Clint on his leveled perched up with his bow and arrow. Jason on the other side, underneath an umbrella, his gun in hand, eyes narrow. It was dark, rainy, quiet, you couldn’t hear much. Only the ruffle of trees, wet sand being slouch around and machines working.
Until they heard it. The grunts, groans, yells and pure shouting that started picking up pace. The running from starts perked Jason and Clint up in positions.
Then the pair saw it, the situation of a tall, blonde man with full on muscles over his body. His wet hair and pissed off look that made him look like Zeus. Clint got a clean shot at him and Jason narrowed, his gun able to get a closer look.
“Damn he’s uh, good looking..” Jason muttered, couldn’t lie and thanked god his old friends weren’t here to make heart eye at him.
“Yeah he is..” Clint muttered back then started asking Coulson to fire, who ordered him to wait.
The tall blonde man raised growled and roared like a large monster of rage, his hands gripping onto the handle of the hammer. He smirked as he pulled and grunted waiting for a result, but nothing came. Just like when Jason pulled it earlier. No result.
However, this man looked upset, screaming and his knees fell to the ground. He looked defeated. Like dialing back on doing a simple task, like he meant to lift it. Jason blinked, trying to think onto what this god was trying to achieve!
‘God of what?’ He asked himself, watching the man to see if he would do anything else. A part of him might’ve been empathetic toward him, if he wasn’t standing the freaking rain roaring in defeat and annoyance.
He snapped out of this thoughts when Coulson called it. Jason ran down with other agents cuffing Thor wrists together. Clint lowers his bow and arrow. They brought him into a room to be interrogated by Phil Coulson, the blonde man stayed quiet the whole time…
—————
Coulson paced back and forth, he just wanted a name. He bite his nails. Proof that this man has something to hide for he can report back to Fury. Phil kept glancing at the monitors, watching this man’s movements. It wasn’t moving, just looking defeated.
Clint was doing research measures for this case, Jason watched the scanners. His eyes stayed on the blonde, wishing he heard his name earlier when he was scouting the town, but he didn’t. Darcy nor Jane Foster said his name. Jason narrowed in on the tall blonde recognizing something, trying to connect the dots.
He seems to be a strong man. Maybe we he brought to Earth due to a punishment? Did he screw up with somebody? Who made him this way? So many questions were running across his head, watching the clock.
Again, he recognized the look, the same one his nephew shared two years ago before announcing himself as Iron Man.
He’s in need of finding himself, grounding himself in humanity.
Coulson locked eyes with Jason, knowing his time was almost up. Less than 12 hours and he’ll be gone back to Miami. 
“You talk to him.” Phil remarked.
“What? No.” Jason rejected the request.
“We just need his name. He said he’s a god compared to the men here.”
“Every man thinks he’s a god. I’ve been near it, he’s just bluffing.”
“Exactly why you should go! Please, i just need it and we can focus our research with the equipment we stole from Foster.”
“You stole from Dr. Foster. Not me.”
Jason grumbled underneath his breath, reminding himself he’ll be gone soon. He walked away, removing his jacket and took a long sigh, sucking his teeth before entering the room.
~~~~
He entered the clear room, holding a glass of water for the man and a snack. A bag of chips he stole from the vending machines.
He sat down in the chair across from him, handing him the items.
“What’s this?” Asked the blonde, holding the glass of water and small bag.
“Water. I can promise you it’s not drugged or anything. You need it after taking out those men.” Jason explained, with a kindness in his tone.
“Why? Are you with them? Theses men. Son of Col and his soldiers.”
“Not exactly, your highness. I was just sent to scout the town and keep an eye on the people, especially after the ruckus at the moment.”
“You mean to cause me and theses humans harm then…?”
“No. I didn’t, that was Coulson’s doing. I didn’t know his intentions until now. He know he’s on a time crunch with me and he just ask one thing of you.”
“And what is that?”
Thor stayed silent, looking down after asking that question. He leaned against his chair, inching forward to drink the water and bag of the chips he was given. He was hungry and very much appreciated the small offering. He watched the man, sitting in front of him. He held such kindness, honesty and plenty of gruff to himself. As if he had a lot of trouble in his mind.
“Who are you?” Thor asked him, sipping his glass.
“Why would you like to know? He asked, rather intrigued by his eyes.
“You offered to show me a far cry of kindness.”
“Because, if you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people…”
Thor was honestly taking back by his words. Those were powerful enough just to be written in stone. He wondered if this man was playing a role or actually meant every word in that sentence. As if he lived plenty of lives, such as himself. A part of him choose to highly respect it.
“What’s your game, mortal?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair.
“No, no game your highness. You have your secrets and so do i. And i can tell you don’t want to be here.” Jason told him honestly, “I’ll just like to know your name. Please?”
“..I’m Thor. Son Of Odin.”
“Your a god..?”
“Yes. What do you mean by the question?”
“A man of your status must’ve been sent here for a reason, my lord.”
“I was casted out of my home for being a ruckus and disobeying my orders…but i can assure you, I didn’t mean to cause you harm..”
“I can tell. Thor, i don’t know how long you’ve been here on Earth but what I’m about to say might ease your thoughts.”
“Hm?”
“You were sent here to learn a lesson. I can only imagine what it might be, however that’s for you figure out.”
“A lesson?”
“There’s always trials and errors to overcome. And I believe you might have to learn something from being among us humans..”
The god of thunder stayed silent simply nodded, listening to him as his mind ran with billions of thoughts. Jason stood up from his chair thanking him for that small information and he’ll request for Thor to be released soon enough.
He was about to leave the room when the god of thunder stop him.
“What’s your name?” He asked, his blue eyes pooling and twirling in curiosity.
He looked over his shoulder with a simple half smile, “Jason Underwood, your majesty.”
With that last comment he left, telling Clint what he found from his conversation with the blonde. It wasn’t much, he wasn’t going to tell Barton about what exactly happened in that room. Keeping that information private until further notice. He only said that his name was ‘Thor’ and that he’s a god.
Clint nodded taking note of what was said to tell Coulson later. Jason nodded, snatching up his keys. His work here was done. He hoped.
He took the first chance he got, returning back to his motel to pack his things and head back home.
The man was driving to Miami turning back the radio, when he received a call from James Rhodes. Rhodey was telling him what recently happened with Tony, the fight with Pepper, the issue with his suits and whatnot. Along with the fact that Tony decided to take off in his suit and sat on a giant freaking donut. It was a rather long list.
“He did what?!”
Was all Jason yelled out the phone, as he reached a red light.
As if he week couldn’t get any weirder…
—//—
Thanks for reading this story! Also is this my soft reboot of a cooler sweeter MCU? Yes. Yes it is.
Did you catch the two pop culture references? ;)
Pls reblog, like, share and comment for more
Tags: @mandylove1000 @gcthvile @msrochelleromanofffelton @gaminggirlsstuff @hanlueluver @triptuckers @rooster-84 @sherloquestea @meiramel @hangmanbrainrot @morgan108 @eliohasmyheart @blackheart-beauty @yetanotherwells @savemewattpad @blueboirick and etc
#thor 2011#iron man 2#agent carter#agent carter oc#agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#tony stark#phil coulson#philinda#darcy lewis#marvel ocs#mcu ocs#glen powell#marvel fanfic writer#hangman blurb#marvel fanfic series#marvel oc#marvel fanfiction#oc fanfiction#aos au#marvel fancast#mcu rewrite#fix it fic#the avengers 2012#iron man 3#captain america the winter soldier#howard stark#jane foster#pop culture references#star wars reference#fyeahmarvelocs
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Was very epic style of me to utilize my weakness (absolutely horrendous visual memory) into my power (creating many references that help not only me but even other people)
Was ALSO very epic style of me to utilize my OTHER weakness (that very particular attention to details and patterns no sane person would notice that makes me seem 'creepy') into my OTHER power (knowing video game lore so well that people can ask me for theories and ideas and being a detective about Bad Guys)
Honestly, I often feel like there is no inherently bad or weak trait.. Usually you just haven't found how to USE it in the right way. Strongly reminds me of the whole Lilo and Stitch lesson where she'd seek every alien that could only cause problems at the first glance and figured a way to put their ability into a good use for both themselves and the community
#lilo and stitch movies and series is metaphor for fixing ableist society and lilo is hella autistic tho#I mean the message is really good and honestly everyone can figure it out but if you were a neurodivergent kid/teen it hit MUCH harder#some things are just ONLY visible for certain character class in this game of life xd#but the duty of good writers is to tell shit in such a way that other people can find something for themselves TOO#personal#also I am not really sure what that 'creepyness' I referred to is properly called#it is probably just tied to my paranoia#it can be used for evil (suspecting and accusing people in things they dont do) or for good (figuring out conspiracy that is ACTUALLY there#....or vidia gaem lore. xd#I just been thinking and like.. I doubt I am bad for such mindset#it is just like my 'superpower'. it has both advantages and drawbacks#absurd how strongly neurodivergence stuff can be metaphorically tied to superheroic/magical themes
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
i do get a sneaking suspicion that if mtl as a series had continued past s4 toki would’ve ended up heavily flanderized
#status update#ik this is just a consequence of any tv show that lasts a long time#i’m referring specifically to his guitar playing skills here btw though infantilization otherwise isn’t out of the question either#but like they did try. several times. to make him out to be the least musically talented out of everyone#and whether or not thats true comparatively to the rest of the band. speaking from a writing perspective#i do feel like. tdr happening when and where in the series it did#showing he was the Only person who came close to matching skwisgaar’s skill. at a younger age and with (presumably) more raw talent#that was the one thing that prevented it#like if the s4 finale + tdr happened the exact same way but later in the series#it would’ve looked like they were like. yknow. trying to go back and fix it too late. i forget the term for that#would’ve been like heeeey yknow how this whole time we’ve been telling you he sucks? he’s actually good! remember! this is how it started!#again i stress. from a writers perspective. not based on how other characters speak to/about him in universe#does this make any sense
0 notes
Text
tell me again that you hate me

a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.
summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.”
warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy
word count: 5153
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist

Your life had turned into a living nightmare.
You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with.
Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again.
It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him.
Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family.
The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.
Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in.
Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further.
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.
Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway.
“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”
“Okay, and?” he scoffed.
“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”
“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”
“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”
The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.
Which is exactly what you ended up doing.
When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you.
But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another.
However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number.
It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him.
“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”
His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters.
“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?”
“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket.
“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”
“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.”
That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him.
“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip.
“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”
As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car.
When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud.
“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.
Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother’s features.
“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.”
Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going.
“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”
“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips.
“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”
“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly.
“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”
“Not particularly...”
As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue.
“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.”
Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again.
Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him.
“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”
“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”
“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed.
“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!”
Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”
“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”
Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint.
Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him.
He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers.
“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”
As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”
But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.
“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.
It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness.
A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”
Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?
It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you.
“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you.
“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.
Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient.
He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans.
“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”
Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself.
Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them.
“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.
When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did.
One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.”
Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core.
You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin.
“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.”
A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit.
“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”
“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream.
“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”
Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief.
“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.”
“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you.
“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it.
When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs.
Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.
“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core.
Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy.
“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.
A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs.
“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”
A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?”
As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch.
“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.
Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock.
“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”
You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.
“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”
“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks.
It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into.
“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up.
Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.”
Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further.
You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.
As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix.
Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half.
“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”
“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”
You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth.
“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?”
Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”
“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”
“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek.
“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”
“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged.
“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form.
“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer.
“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”
“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.”
“Say that you’re my little slut.”
“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”
Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.”
One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.
“I hate you.”
“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.
“I hate you.”
“Keep going, princess.”
And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation.
Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one.
When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.
“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”
“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants.
And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in.
Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”
You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves.
“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom.
“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”
“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”
Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…
When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.
“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”
“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to.
Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.”
Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.
Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…”
You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor.
“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”
Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on.
“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside.
“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”
“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”
“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”
Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.”
“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.”
You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side.
“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips.
“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”
Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts.
“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide.
“You do look hot in normal clothes.”
“I don’t think any of this is normal…”
“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks.
“Rafe…” you breathed.
His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#stepbro!rafe#stepbro!rafe cameron#perv!rafe cameron#perv!rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#drew starkey smut#dark!rafe cameron x reader#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron smut#tw stepcest
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)
1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out
Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on
2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page
RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable
3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it
Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them
4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt
Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else
5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference
Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on
#writing#writers#writeblr#bookblr#book#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writers of tumblr#writer#how to write#on writing#creative writing#writers block#write#writing tips#writers and poets#writblr#female writers#queer writers#writer things#writer stuff#writing is hard#writing advice#writing life#writer problems#writerscreed#writersnetwork#writerblr#writersociety#writerslife
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Since I’ve been encouraged to actually share my funny little blorbo ideas here’s another one gang;
Danny moves to Gotham on scholarship for engineering, because the Fentons may be infamous but they’re also insanely brilliant and besides both he and Jazz are showing every sign of embarrassed child of a super genius syndrome, so while the bats are keeping a close eye on him Just In Case, duke is also thinking of introducing him to the Our Parents Are Maniacs But Anyway club maybe after the first month or so.
Gotham does not go for standard dorm living bc of his ‘condition’ and lack of wanting to constantly spook/gaslight a roommate. Besides, living with two small children is a dorm sounds like a disaster in action.
So Danny signs up as a mechanic in Crime Alley, buys himself a teeny weensy lil apartment and Makes It Work. He has been all year after showing up with a de aged Dani and Dan in Amnity after all, and that had gone,,, fine? (The entire town, observing how Danny had been getting increasingly more uncomfortable around his godfather prior to the cloning incident, then just dropped off the face of the earth for several months, the first two weeks stuck in Vlad’s basement enduring horrors and the next Too Many desperately fapping around in the Ghost Zone to get everything handled. All the clones live, all 13 of them. Bunch of them are stuck in the Ghost Zone due to constant need for ectoplasm, but eh, plenty of Zone born never leave, so. One, in the future, apprentices under a green warrior lady on Pandora’s suggestion, another is working in the Eternal Library with Ghost Writer, etc etc. so Danny eventually came back to Amnity with one small child under each arm very obviously traumatized by Somethingn with vlad and doesn’t like being alone with him,,, or touched without warning,, and immediately and passionately proclaims the kids his but struggles to explain how or why,, look some very reasonable assumptions are drawn okay. So the town does the very reasonable thing and does the midwestern equivilant of excommunicating Vlad, except it’s a lot more run him out with pitchforks vibes since he’s the Mayor. Anyway)
He is immediately loved, because while non Gothamites are usually more of a pain than they’re worth, everyone in a while someone even from out of town will just fit in so nicely it’s uncanny for everyone involved. Addams family vibes, it’s referred to as ‘making it home’, just personal hc. He is protective of all the kids playing in the parks and street girls that can totally take care of themselves on their corners but find it HILARIOUS when he just tackles a dick like a wild animal full force no warning. He can fix anything it seems, but refuses to work with weapons. Reasonable enough, people get twitchy about gangs sometimes. Danny mentions being not against Hood or anything, but he’s not going to work for him, littles to take care of and all, but had past experience with ‘Dora and that inheritance mess with her brother he was being a real prick about’ so everyone assumes it’s the equivilant of him having Done His Time and being plenty good for a life time and respects it as long as none of that petty midwestern small town hotshots bring any of that shit over here. And they don’t, because said individuals are on the other side of the mortal veil, so happy day.
See I really love deaged!Dan because he’s just a grumpy lil guy. But he’s also killed millions. He’s so protective of his loved ones, but held back by blending in and also being Smol that it comes off more bitey kitten than anything else. Dani, of course, is a terror, so she fits right in with the crowd.
And sorry gang, but a bunch of kids on their own in Gotham in a poor side of the city just isn’t going to get any attention: that’s just business as usual really. What first gets attention on Danny is not his ‘condition’ or being mistaken for a meta (which he legally probs has an argument for even without the gene bc like these bitches don’t know how metaism works anyway so) or alien (I’m 90% sure he’d be covered by the alien protection act by virtue of being half ‘not from earth’), but because Danny despite best efforts is a Weird Guy.
He grew up in what could only be described as a low level villain level and spent most of high school dealing with smack downs and spiritual invasion. He’s never really processed that any of that is not in fact Normal. Also, he’s capable of making Anything if given the insides of a toaster, blender and alarm clock, and could probably rewrite the circuits of the apartment blindfolded and improve them 1000% even if it ABSOLUTELY would not be up to code.
And sure, things slip every once in a while, bits of spectral ice here, small floating incident there, but everyone just Minds Their Buisness ya know? You really gunna mess with the guy that personally ensured that when your car got flattened by a fight with Killer Croc, you were still able to get in to work the next day by some wizardry? Really?
But Gotham is a city so cursed it’s probably in the exponents countwise, so of course there is a) a flourishing community of magic users and assorted supernatural weirdos and b) a whole lot of shit for Mega Overpowered Ghost King Danny to idly pick at day to day in order to help with his protecting other Obsession. Gotham has plenty of heroes, but by god do they need the spiritual equivilant of an electrician/priest.
Still, Danny, as a baby ancient under a facet of Kronos and KING OF THE DEAD is like, way, way out of their scope to be able to grok, so it mostly just comes off as you know, a family of banshees or something. When asked, Danny very haltingly says he was briefly dead but then revived, which neatly explains his Weird Ass aura and makes it SPECTACULARLY AWKWARD to ask further about. So everyone nods politely, and goes back to their lives after double checking no nefarious bullshit was being pulled.
Then, of course, Vlad finally tracks them down. The whole neighborhood is altered in short order because he doesn’t bother trying to hide being a Rich Bitch or how he’s sneering down his nose at people on the sidewalk. Every connects the dots when Danny paniks. Dani and Dan’s daycare are staffed with some extra, very buff set of hands within the hour. Jerry, Hood’s third in command, personally shows up to the garage Danny is working at to talk things out with him bc he knows he does t like the deal with this stuff due to past unspecified circumstances but well, they guys had already started fucking with him, you see. Stole his tires, spray painted the windows, pickpocketed him blind, and when he retreated tipped off the police to the drugs they’d planted in the glove box.
Danny might not have been born in Gotham, but he was one of them. And the Alley takes care of it own.
#basically I want a fic where it’s not the Batfam but Gotham itself latching onto Danny#also more angy lil baby man Dan in big puffy coats being protective#dp x dc#dc x dp#gotham
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
hers only
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
synopsis; gf!abby does not like clara, the gym trainer who can’t keep her hands off you. so who’s surprised when she loses her composure, channeling her rage in the form of rough, hard sex?
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; abby’s jealous as fuck, a little toxic!abby but not really, use of a strap-on, abby refers to the strap as her dick/cock, and strap is referred to as her dick/cock, throat-fucking (with fingers), fingering, choking, pretty rough sex, degrading (slut/bitch/whore, etc), a little praise, use of baby/honey, one use of y/n BEFORE the smut (sorry, it was necessary), spanking, reader cries, abby gives reader a sensory overload, dumbfucking, etc
a/n; hello! my name is kitlyn, kit for short :) i’m a huge writer, and tlou is my latest obsession. so, ofc, i had to get this fic out for my gf, and much more to come. i hope you like this, and if you have any ideas for me to write, please lmk!
p.s.; your daily reminder (or a fun fact), abby canonically bench presses 205 pounds. i rest my case <3
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
she could only make it a few weeks before her annoyance got the best of her.
you were bulking up for an upcoming mission, assigned to you by issac. in the area you would be in, scar presence was heavy, and you wouldn’t be back to the wlf for a bit, so gaining muscle was a necessity.
abby just wished she didn’t have to watch that girl’s hands all over you to get the job done.
she didn’t understand why she couldn’t train you herself, why issac wouldn’t fucking let her. he waved her off, giving her some bullshit about “a lack of focus.”
come on. if she knew you needed to bulk up, if it meant it would keep you safe, she wouldn’t lose her focus just because it was you.
maybe.
but this was the replacement. some other girl in the wlf, hands all over you as she helped you do pull-ups. your body was covered in sweat, and you had been at this for over an hour. the girl, whose name was clara, had her hands on your hips as you lifted yourself up and over the bar again and again.
“c’mon, give me ten more. you got it,” clara said. you were looking at yourself in the mirror as you let out a grunt with each pull-up you did, on your tenth at this point. but you did your best to push through.
“clara,” you groaned. “i can’t fucking—“ you began. but your trainer cut you off.
“don’t use your breath. just keep going. i’ve seen you do it before. you got it,” clara said once more, tone firm. you didn’t think it would be a good idea to deny her. so you went on.
but you were fully oblivious to the pair of blue eyes fixed on you across the room.
you had forgotten that abby also worked out around this time to lift with manny, so it didn’t even occur to you that she was gazing at this whole thing like a hawk.
“abs!” manny said to abby, accent thick. he snapped his fingers in front of abby’s face, and abby looked at him both confusedly, but also annoyedly.
“huh? what, what is it?” abby asked. she had fully spaced out, and her cheeks were red. but it wasn’t because of the workout.
it was your fucking trainer.
“estás bien? i lost you a few minutes ago,” manny said. abby had gotten used to his habit of going back and forth from spanish to english, to the point where she knew a thing or two. so she easily responded.
“yeah, i’m fine. let’s just finish for today, okay? i’m not feeling it,” she excused. but manny could see where her eyes were.
you.
“ah,” manny said. he seemed to understand now, a look of comprehension across his face as he said that. “okay. i’ll see you back at the room, then, sí?” manny asked as he held his fist out.
abby did the same and gave him the small fist bump he was looking for. “yeah, see you.”
once manny had left, abby began to pack up her gym bag. by now, you had finished your pull-ups, and were taking needy gulps from your water bottle. clara gave you a small pat on the back once you had finished drinking.
“that was good. you got any more in you?” clara laughed.
you smiled at her, shrugging. “not sure. i’ve gotta meet my girlfriend soon,” you said. really, it was in an hour or two. but you’d have to shower, change, etc. so, to you, it was soon.
nevertheless, you figured a bit more couldn’t hurt. so, you said, “but i think i can do a few more reps.”
clara just gave you a nod. each time you would bring up this girlfriend of yours, her demeanor changed like that. she’d tense, and pause her words.
you knew what it seemed like, and obviously, you didn’t like clara. but you did kind of need her.
and besides, if abby—fuck, if abby knew? it'd be a fucking field day to say the least.
you ended up choosing back squatting as a way to finish off your session with clara. you ducked your head under the bar, elbows flexing as you removed it from the rack. you caved a little under the heaviness of it, but with clara’s reassurance, you did your best to move.
clara put her arms under yours as you held the bar behind your back. she squatted along with you, body behind yours as she spotted you.
you could only make it ten or so reps before you failed on the eleventh, much to your surprise, as it had never happened to you before. clara put her hands on your chest quickly, and helped you move the bar back up to the rack.
“sorry,” you whispered in a huff, face red from the tension your body had just undergone. clara’s front pressed to your back for just a moment, and you felt a little uncomfy. she had spotted you before while doing a back squat, but not once did you fail one, forcing her to really touch you like that.
“it’s okay, it’s okay. you did fine,” clara smiled. this time, she put a hand on your shoulder, way too close for comfort. and then, she murmured to you, her own face red. “i’m proud of you.”
oh, that was fucking it.
abby discarded her gym bag on the floor. she tossed it somewhere. she would grab it later. but she couldn’t fucking watch this anymore. who the hell did this girl think she was, hands all over you like that? and who knows what she was saying to you? that was abby’s fucking job.
and hers only.
“y/n,” an all too familiar voice said from your left, and you didn’t need to look to know who had spoken.
you were thinking, my savior, once abby’s voice filled your ears. but when your eyes moved to hers, you were sure your soul left your body.
because she looked pissed.
clara moved her hand off your shoulder, and you hated the way she did it—like the two of you had been doing way more than just working out.
“grab your shit, we’re leaving,” abby said firmly to you, and she couldn’t help but send a small glare clara’s way. you weren’t the only one feeling scared, because clara was pale as a ghost. she had known you had a girlfriend, obviously.
but it was abby fucking anderson?
neither you nor clara said a word as you packed up your gym bag. once you had, abby was grabbing you by the waist, and yanking you out of the gym, leaving clara far, far behind you.
“abs—“ you tried, you really fucking did. but abby didn’t want to hear it.
“not a fucking word.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
manny knew better than to come back to the room once he saw abby eyeing you like that in the gym. it wouldn’t be the first, nor would it be the last, time that abby’s temper had ended in a room full of sex.
as soon as you were inside of the room, abby was grabbing your gym bag from your hands, tossing it far away, and kissing you aggressively. you responded with a whine, but let her, kissing her back with just as much passion. her hand gripped your neck as she all but slammed you onto the door, free hand running over your body like it was a temple she was born to worship.
really, it was.
abby put her free hand under your leg and held it up, pressing herself into you as her tongue battled yours. you moaned into her mouth as her grip on your neck compressed, her fingers digging into the soft skin of your thighs.
what a good day to have worn shorts…
when abby finally pulled back, your lips were spilling with drool, lips numb and plump from the belligerence in abby’s kisses. your whole face was hot, and abby’s face was red.
and, fuck, did she look mad.
abby smashed her lips back onto yours, and kissed you all the way to her bed. once there, she pushed you down onto it and got on top of you, her large thighs on either side of your lap.
if you weren’t in for it before, you surely were now.
abby reached her arm out to open the drawer of her bedside table, and it was only a moment or two before she was pulling out a very familiar item.
her strap.
“a- abs, wh- what are you—“ you began dumbly, way too curious to find out what it was she had in mind. but abby wasn’t feeling at all gracious.
you talk when she says you can.
“shut the fuck up,” abby damn near growled at you, the kind of tone she reserved for when she was really fucking angry. you had heard it many times before. when you were on a mission and battling scars. when issac reprimanded her for being careless in the field. when mel pissed her off one too many times.
bottom line, when shit didn’t go her way.
and the idea that she felt that way now both turned you on and scared the fuck out of you.
abby was quick to secure the strap’s harness to her waist. the view of the dildo attached to it always made your mouth fill with drool: black, veiny, seven and a half inches long. she’d made you cum with it so many times you lost count, and it was a million times better than the real thing.
especially when you had abby anderson on top of you, or behind you, or below you, encouraging you to take it like the good girl you were.
she grabbed your hips with fervor, forcing you to wrap your legs around her torso once your bottoms, and underwear, were out of her way. you let out a needy mewl as she slid the tip through your already wet folds, riling you up, just like that.
when your eyes closed as an answer, abby tutted, and moved one of her large hands down to grab you by the chin. “look at me,” she demanded.
and who the hell would you be to deny that?
your eyes were weak and needy as they met abby’s, pupils big with just a touch of fear, heart pounding in your ears. abby spoke firmly, and you could tell that she wasn’t playing around.
you had left fun and games behind the second you walked into this room.
“you’re gonna take this dick as much as i want you to, over and over again. n’ i’m gonna fuck you rough, ‘til you’re babbling out nonsense. do you hear me?”
your body felt paralyzed when those words left abby’s lips, her tone dripping in anger. you couldn’t manage much, and all you could do was nod. but she was not having that.
she squeezed down on your chin, which made you whimper out. “words.”
“y- yes, ma’am, i- i understand,” you weakly muttered out, and that seemed to suffice for her. abby let up on her grip, and her hand moved down from your chin to your lips.
“good. now suck.”
you didn’t delay. you opened your mouth for abby to push her fingers inside of it, index and ring beginning to fuck it. abby could feel your drool as she pumped the two fingers in and out of you, your tongue eagerly wrapping around them.
she doesn’t give a damn in the world as she pounds them to the back of your throat, making you gag, and your eyes close and roll back as she does so.
not for long.
“open your eyes. keep ‘em on me,” abby says in a rough tone, and you oblige a little too quickly. water’s already filling the corners of your eyes, and abby can see that when she looks at you.
and she’s barely begun.
“crying for me already, hm? why am i not surprised?” abby couldn’t help but mock you. you looked so feeble like this, choking on her fingers like the whore you were.
“i’d save your tears, honey. ‘cause there’s a lot more where this came from.”
just as you’re beginning to get used to the rough feeling of abby fucking your face with her fingers, she pulls them out, and you let out a small whimper of disapproval.
but it quickly blends into a moan.
her index and ring, the two fingers that you had just had your tongue around, that were soaked in your drool, pushed inside of you without so much as a warning.
“oh, f- fuck, abby,” you moaned as the suddenness of the moment took over your senses. your thighs clenched around her as she skillfully pumped her fingers in and out of your cunt, just as she had so many times in the past.
abby used her other hand to pry your thighs back open. “ah ah, baby. spread your legs for me.”
just when you figured this couldn’t get any more forceful, abby was pushing a third finger inside of you, her middle one, and using her thumb to rub your clit.
your response was way too fast as you grabbed one of abby’s broad shoulders, digging your fingernails into the freckled skin on it. you let out a loud moan as your eyes squeezed shut, letting it all sink in. three of abby’s fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out of your wet pussy as she thumbed your clit like a fucking pro.
“fuckfuckfuck,” you groaned, and, god, did abby like that. barely begun with you, and you were already drunk off her touch.
but then again, that’s how it always went.
“look at you, fucking soaked for me. needy bitch,” abby degraded you mercilessly as she curled her fingers inside of you, easily hitting your g-spot.
“mmph, abby…” you could barely manage.
“hush,” she said harshly. your gaze moved up to hers as she fingered you, her usual pale blue eyes big, pupils enlarged. it was clear that she wasn’t letting up any time soon. “don’t talk unless i say you can.”
you didn’t.
abby had you soaking her fingers in your release soon enough, your orgasm spilling over you. she pulled her fingers out of you and moved them to her lips, leaving not even one drop behind as she sucked them dry. the view filled your abdomen with butterflies: that was for damn sure.
if this is how she made you feel with your fingers, you could hardly imagine her dick.
and abby didn’t delay. you didn’t get even a second to process before she was lining the tip of the silicone toy to your cunt, and pushing into you forcefully.
“abby, w- wait, fuck. t- too soon,” you whimpered, but you knew abby didn’t give a shit about what you had to say. she shushed you with her hand, putting her fingers past your lips once more.
“don’t care. you’re gonna take this cock like a good fucking girl,” she emphasized the word as she thrust into you hard. “and i don’t wanna hear shit. got that?”
you nodded, and didn’t try to speak again. you just did what abby wanted you to, sucking on her long fingers to keep you occupied while she pounded into your pussy.
“clara can’t fuck you this good, can she, baby?” abby rasped as each thrust grew more ravenous, both fingers pushing deeper.
so that’s what this was all about. well, really, you figured as much. you knew clara’s behavior would somehow bite you in the ass. but now that you had abby’s words to confirm it, you couldn’t be more sure.
you did what you could to shake your head, but let’s be real. it was abby fucking anderson. speechlessness was never an answer in her books. she took her fingers out of your mouth for the last time, eager to hear you talk now.
“say it.”
“n- no, abby. s’just you. s’only you,” your tongue slurred as the words left your lips, and abby couldn’t help but get off on the way you were speaking, a smug smirk on her face.
“mmhm. only i get to fuck this pretty pussy of yours, y’hear me?” abby let out in a grunt, her drool covered hand settling onto your neck, squeezing down. she was fucking you hard, no mercy as her hips thrust aggressively, pushing herself as deep inside of you as she could possibly go.
you were more than okay with that.
“y- yes, ma’am,” you let out a groan of your own as abby rutted her hips into you, eyes locked on hers. “i’m yours. a- all yours.”
you were a whining and whimpering mess as abby gave you a nod of approval, hand gripping your neck like it was her lifeline. “that’s a good whore. mine and no one else’s.”
“how do you think days like today make me feel, huh? fucking bitch with her hands all over you, gawking at you like you’re hers. well, let me tell you somethin’,” abby snarls. she pulls out of you, tip pressed to your folds, and for a moment, you think she’s going to make you beg for her to fuck you once more. but just like that, she’s slamming back inside, going, arguably, deeper than she had before.
“she doesn’t get to have you. no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good. no one’s ever gonna love you like i do. you’re all fucking mine, like it or not. got that?”
you’re not surprised by the aggression in her tone, but, damn, is she pissed. you can feel her anger seep into your skin as she fucks you like a toy, addresses you like a doll.
and you let her.
“m’sorry, abby, m’so sorry. i know i’m yours. i’m yours, swear to god i am. m’so sorry,” you moan dumbly as she squeezes your neck.
which you’re sure will have marks to show for it tomorrow.
“i know you are, baby,” abby rasps. her hand moves from her neck to your thigh now, and she digs her fingernails into it as she slams into you. “and you fucking should be.”
and again, abby has you cumming, her name rolling off your tongue like music as, this time, it’s her cock you soak in your release. “there you go, honey. know you like when i fuck this pussy like this. that’s it,” abby whispered.
your brain was way too foggy with the aggression of this session with your girlfriend to get your words out properly.
what was is it that abby had said about making you babble again?
“f- fuck, abby. oh, fuck,” you whined, body tired from receiving your second orgasm that evening. but abby was nowhere near done with you: both of you knew that.
abby didn’t speak as she pulled herself out of you, grabbing you by the hips and flipping your body over, so that you were no longer on your back. she forced you onto all fours, your ass poking up into the air. she yanks your bottoms fully off of you from behind, underwear following, and settles her hands onto your ass.
“abby, come on, please,” you all but cry out. you’re not sure how much you can take, not when it’s so sudden, anyway. abby’s anger is slowly going away, your caring girlfriend coming back little by little. but you weren’t quite there yet.
“you’ve got one more in you, baby, i know you do,” abby says softly, and she circles her thumbs over your ass. the move is almost loving.
“and you’re gonna take it, like the good slut you are. mkay?”
like you said. almost.
you grumble, but you can’t say no. not only did you not want to, but when it came to abby, that was one of the last things on your mind. probably. . .not a good idea. so, “mkay,” is what you say in response.
“good girl. can fuck you better like this, anyway,” abby hums. she begins to take your shirt off, and you lift your arms up to help her remove you tank top. and then, who’s surprised, she unhooks your bra with ease, discarding it on the floor somewhere.
the feeling’s familiar as abby pushes inside of your aching pussy once more. you’re sore and tired, brain fucked out from abby’s belligerence. but you need her, just as much as you need the very oxygen in your lungs.
and she needs you.
as if this isn’t enough, her arms move under yours, and squeeze each of your tits. it quickly reminds you of the way clara spotted you earlier, because that was one of the very things that had caused this in the first place.
but this felt so much better.
your eyes rolled back into your head as abby rubbed hard circles into your nipples, eager and needy to get you off for the third time in a row. she knew it wouldn’t be long now. each time she fucked you like this, round after round, your orgasms came in quick successions.
literally.
abby was pushing into your g-spot once again, and the feeling of it all was almost too much. if she wanted you to babble, then she got it: because there was no other way to describe the words spilling from your lips.
“a- abby, fuck, please don’t stop. you feel s- so good, f- fuck, please.” you weren’t making any sense by now, at least not to yourself. but abby knew what you wanted.
because she knew just how to please you.
“keep moaning, baby. you sound adorable,” abby chuckled as she fucked you, hips pushing deep into a spot you didn’t even know you had. “all cockdrunk off this dick, like the whore you are. my whore.”
she just had to add that. for good measure.
“tell me how much you like it. tell me how much you like it when i pound your pussy like this.”
you were licking your lips in the neediest way as she pressed her thumbs into your tits. you couldn’t help but push yourself back into her, that fucking needy for her. “i- i love it, abby. love it so much, fuck. you fuck me so good.”
abby moved one of her hands back from your tit and onto your ass, and gave you a small spank there. “fuck, yeah, i do. never gonna get it this good from anyone else, are you, baby? not clara, not any other bitch. just me, yeah?”
“mmph, mhm,” you murmured, and, fuck, were you on the brink. of course no one else could fuck you like this. no one could fuck like this period. some days, you wished the world could see just what abby anderson had to offer.
but that would involve a hell of a lot of sharing that you didn’t want to do.
“aw, i’m fucking you dumb, huh, baby? can’t even get a word out. dumb fucking slut,” abby smirked, slapping your ass one more time, then massaging the red mark with her thumb. “who do you belong to, hm?”
abby wasn’t wrong. your brain was fogged up, cloudy as she slammed into you from the back, and you couldn’t even see as your eyes rolled back into your head for the millionth time over. your words came out messy, drunken, incoherent. “i- i b—i’m—yours, i b- belong to—to you.”
you could feel your third orgasm bubbling up inside of you as abby pounded you from the back, and she had both hands on your tits once more, gripping both of them as she thumbed at your nipples. your face was hot, your lewd moans filling the room to the brim, as abby filled you.
“f- fuck, abby, don’t stop,” you whimpered out, and you had never sounded so broken before. “g- gonna cum.”
well, that much was obvious.
abby didn’t hold you back. she encouraged you with each thrust of her hips, every one increasing in speed with each second that passed by. she was a pro at this, and she knew it.
“that’s it, honey. cum on my cock, loud, like you mean it. wanna hear you scream for me,” she said with a small grunt, and she said it like it was a demand.
you obeyed.
you were yelling your girlfriend’s name as white spilled all over the silicone that was her dick, a series of pornographic moans falling from your swollen lips. your expression was just that, too: lewd, broken, because you had never been fucked like that in your life.
for the last time, abby pulled out of you, and unsecured the harness around her torso. once she put it to the side, she couldn’t help but put her fingers to your pussy for the last time, scooping a bit of your white release onto them. you shuddered as she did so, and looked behind you, just to see her suck her fingers off.
you lay limp on the bed as abby got up to grab a small towel. gingerly, she began to wipe your body clean, beginning with your thighs. she kissed up them as she did it, and it was so, so different to the way she had been manhandling you mere seconds beforehand.
that was abby for you.
once you were both clean, abby laid down beside you, and pulled you close to her body. she put her hands on your waist, and pressed a kiss to your forehead as you snuggled into her broad chest. you didn’t even feel awkward about the fact that you were the only one naked.
if abby didn’t care, then neither did you.
“you okay, baby? wasn’t too rough with you, was i?” abby asked, her thumb circling your cheek. you smiled up at her, a rush of butterflies soaring inside your abdomen at the small rasp in the way she cooed.
“no, abs. not at all. i mean, i always knew you got jealous, but—wow,” you couldn’t help your giggle.
abby feigned annoyance by giving you an eye roll, but you could tell that she was just being playful. besides, it’s not like she could deny the fact. so she smirked. “what can i say? you just have that effect on me. besides, you have to admit—clara was way too close for comfort.”
“mmhm,” you hum.
“but maybe that was a good thing.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
———
#abby anderson#abby anderson fic#abby anderson fan fiction#abby anderson smut#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson the last of us 2#abby tlou#the last of us smut#wlw ns/fw#wlw smut#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x y/n#tlou2 smut#ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ kit’s works
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
“No Time Like The Present”
Namjoon x Plus Size Reader
Summary: You and Joon have become close friends, there’s just two problems: He’s in love with you, and you’re completely clueless
Word Count: 4.0k
Warnings: slight angst, swearing, suggestive at the end, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to the lovely @bethanysnow for this request! I had so much fun writing this, it really helped me claw my way out of my writer's block. I hope you like it!
Masterlist
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
“There’s no time like the present.” That's what his friends kept saying every time he would complain about his discontent with his current dating status, or rather lack thereof.
He was fresh out of his mandatory military service, or as he’d not-so-jokingly referred to it, “hell time”, and with that nowfound freedom came a fair bit of self reflection, as most things did with Namjoon.
There were lots of things he had been reasessing in his life, from minor things like workout regimes, to bigger plans like the artistic direction he wanted to take his work in, but amongst all those things, one thing was clear, he wanted to be with someone.
He hadn’t exactly said it in so many words, but it was clear to those closest to him.
He’d struggled in the past to figure out what he wanted out of relationships; at first he wanted marriage and kids, at various other points he’d given up dating entirely. He still didn’t fully know what he wanted, but he was done trying to figure it out exactly and was trying to lean into his friend's advice and just embrace whatever opportunities came his way.
Which is why Hobi had abruptly decided one afternoon that they should go have lunch at his favorite cafe. He’d become a regular there following his discharge the year before and had quickly become friends with a few of the staff, including one who he was rather eager for Joon to meet, Y/n.
He’d been charmed by you from day one, with your easy-going attitude, Hobi knew the two of you would hit it off immediately if given the chance. You had a lot of similar interests and personality traits, and also the fact that he knew that you were very much Namjoon’s type, with your full curves and piercing eyes, he knew Joon would instantly be a goner.
Joon followed Hobi into the cafe on the fateful afternoon, not paying much attention at first, mostly admiring the design choices of the space, the light colors and simplistic furniture style giving the space a relaxed, cozy vibe.
“Next- Hobi!” Your sudden enthusiastic tone of voice drew his attention back to the present, turning to see you and Hobi happily chatting together, freezing slightly as he took you in.
It was for just a couple seconds, but it was still long enough for you to tilt your head quizzically as he realized Hobi was introducing him and was waiting for him to say something.
"Sorry, uh, nice to meet you.” He said, fumbling his words slightly.
You smiled warmly. “You too.”
You turned back to Hobi as he asked you about something, but Joon didn’t hear any of the conversation, his eyes fixed on you as you spoke and moved about, making orders with an almost hypnotic fluidity and grace.
Hobi elbowed him lightly, snapping him out of his daze. “You good bro?” He asked, handing him his drink with an amused smirk.
“‘M fine…” Joon mumbled, following him to the table, his eyes still flickering back to you now and then.
Something about you had caught him, he couldn't figure out what it was exactly, but it had taken less than five seconds for you to seemingly bewitch him. He barely even registered what Hobi was talking about, or the knowing look he kept casting his way with a smug grin, his attention being repeatedly drawn back to you for the rest of lunch.
Trying to play it off as they got up to leave.
“Bye, Y/n-ah, see you on friday, right?” Hobi called
“I’ll be there, don’t worry.” You grinned at his reminder.
Joon perked up at that. “Friday?” He mumbled as they ducked out the door into the mid-summer drizzle.
“Yeah, my party? The one I’ve been talking about for weeks?” Hobi raised a brow at him.
“Oh yeah, right!” He nodded quickly.
“...You forgot?” He squinted at Joon.
“No, of course not.” Namjoon denied immediately.
“Mhm sure.” Hobi nodded.
Joon played it off, making a mental note to be there on friday, quietly hoping you were being sincere and would also be there and would get another chance to talk with you without embarrassing himself.
Friday came, and Joon found himself sat in the corner of the party, nodding along as Hobi was telling a story from tour, only half listening if he was being honest, when his friend suddenly shot up out of his seat.
“Y/n-ah!” He squealed, weaving off through the crowd, returning a moment later half dragging you over to where he and Joon were sitting, instantly looping you into his and Joon’s conversation.
After a few minutes, Hobi quietly excused himself, leaving the two of you to talk amongst yourselves.
He had expected to feel a little awkward with you, but he was finding it almost shockingly easy to talk to you, eagerly listening as you told him about your life.
You had taken the big scary plunge of moving to Seoul on your own, renting your friend's spare room while you worked at a cafe. It wasn’t exactly a dramatic, elaborate life, but it made you happy, and he found himself drawn into your stories with growing intrigue and amusement. He loved hearing you talk, the way you told stories with your hands, the way your face lit up as you spoke.
The two of you spent the rest of the evening together talking, completely oblivious to the rest of the world around you.
Following that night, he started coming by the cafe whenever he could, without being too obvious that he was only there to see you. The two of you clicked almost instantly, laughing easily during your short conversations. He couldn't help the little jolt in his chest every time he came through the door and spotted you, the feeling only intensifying when he saw how you perked up as you caught sight of him.
"Your usual?" You asked before he even got to the counter.
"Am I getting too predictable?" He asked with a grin.
You chuckled. "Eh, consistency's not necessarily a bad thing."
"Maybe, but still, I'll try something different today. What's your favorite?" He asked
"Ah, well now we have a problem." You say, causing him to raise a brow.
"Why?"
"Because I usually just get the same thing that you do," he couldn't help but grin at that, "or one of our flavored drinks that I know you won't like. "
"How do you know I won't?" He raised a brow.
"Because I always take your order and I know what you like." You smirked.
"Just tell me what it is."
"The mocha mint frappe." His nose scrunched up involuntarily, making you laugh. "See! I knew it!" You said. "You never order anything mint flavored."
He watched you for a moment, a faint smile pulling at his lips before he spoke again. "I'll try it."
What the fuck did I just say? It was hard to say who looked more surprised at his statement, him or you.
You blinked. "Seriously?"
He nodded, shrugging. "You like it, so I'll try it."
You eyed him for a moment, trying to ignore the way your heart did a tiny flip in your chest at his words, before nodding slowly. “Okay then.”
He went to his usual table while you made his drink, his eyes continually drifting back on you as always, only this time you caught him.
“You know if you’re having second thoughts, just say so.” You teased as you brought him his drink, thinking that that was why he was watching you.
He let out a huff of laughter. “I’m good, thanks.”
You turned and went back to the counter, glancing back just in time to see him take the first tentative sip, the nose scrunch from earlier coming back in full force and you couldn't stop the snicker that escaped your lips, drawing his eyes back to you, a fond look spreading across his face.
God, he wanted to make you laugh like that every chance he could.
He turned back to his laptop, working quietly until an americano was suddenly sat down in front of him.
He looked up to see your teasing grin.
“Stick with consistency.” You said simply, turning and going back to work without another word, oblivious to his goo-eyed stare following your every move.
Fuck, he was in over his head…
Things went much of the same way for the next couple months. The two of you hung out almost constantly in your free time, You wouldn’t lie, you had your moments of silently freaking out because ‘holy shit Kim Namjoon is my friend, this is soo fucking cool!’, but you’d reigned that in and as the two of you had gotten closer, it was surprisingly easy to forget that side of him. With you, he wasn’t some ultra famous rapper and artist, he was just your sweet friend, Namjoon.
Meanwhile, Joon had been having a much different experience.
While you were happily riding on the friendship parade, he had been having to fight his demons every day to avoid openly gawking at you because, “holy shit, god and karma are real and this girl is the proof, this is my reward for the past two years that I spent in hell” as he’d so eloquently phrased it to Hobi one drunken evening, who had been watching all of this unfold from the sidelines with the most shit-eating grin, because anybody with eyes could tell that his friend was down bad for you.
Everyone, apparently, except you.
You’re the perfect match for him, smart, funny, cute, loves music, argues with him in ways that make him think, not to mention he thinks you’re the living embodiment of Venus.
You seemed more than content to just traipse through life, misconstruing his increasingly obvious gestures of affection as those of just a friend.
He would go out of his way to bring you lunch on your break, he would always compliment your outfit or if you changed your hair, he would look out for you whenever you went out together to make sure nobody messed with you, he’d answer your texts at all hours of the night. The clues were there if you were paying attention, but you very clearly were not.
"Are you okay?” You asked, breaking him out of his revere.
“Huh? Y-yeah, ‘m fine.” He said quickly. “Why?”
“You were kinda zoning out there a bit, didn’t know if something was on your mind…"
It was late, the cafe was technically closed, but Joon had gotten into the habit of staying late while you closed up so he could walk you home.
You’d already shut part of the lights off, leaving you in a cozier, dim light as the two of you finished your drinks.
“No, it’s nothing, just tired I guess.” He mumbled. ‘Just wondering what your lip balm tastes like-’
You weren’t entirely convinced, but you let it slide for now. “So are you going to Hobi’s thing this weekend?” You asked.
“Yeah,” He sighed, leaning back in his chair with a groan. “I bailed on the last one, he’ll have my ass if I miss another.”
“Sweet, then at least I’ll have someone to talk to other than Jimin.” You replied. “Maybe I can play wingman for someone.”
“Oh yeah?” He raised a brow at you. “And who would that be?”
“I dunno, maybe someone incredibly sweet and caring, and handsome, and who despite writing love songs for a living has about as much success in the dating field as I do.”
He let out a huff. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked in mock offense.
“It means I’m tired of watching you mope around here every night when you could be out with someone who makes you happy.” You said
“You make me happy.” He mumbled.
“That’s not what I mean.” You said. “I mean like romantically.”
So did I… He sighed. “It’s not that easy.”
“It could be though, I mean look at us.” You gestured between the two of you. “You’re good with me, we just need to find you something like this with someone who’s your type.”
‘You mean like you!?’ He pressed his lips together tightly to keep from blurting out.
“What about you?” He asked, spinning the question around. “Why aren’t you seeing anyone?”
“Ha! Yeah right!” You scoffed. “You know my dating pool is a puddle.”
He frowned at your words. He hated anytime you thought about yourself in any sort of depreciating light.
“What are you talking about? Don’t say that, you’re gorgeous!” He said, looking at you.
“Yeah, okay…” You said quietly, trying to ignore the warmth that his words caused to rise up in your cheeks.
“I mean it,” He said sincerely. “Anybody would be lucky to have you, and anyone who makes you feel otherwise should go fuck themselves. You’re smart and beautiful and funny and… nice…” He paused, a flush appearing on his cheeks as he realized how he probably sounded.
“‘Nice’?” You quirked a brow at him. “What does ‘nice’ mean?”
He let out a nervous chuckle, averting his eyes as he realized he’d caught himself up in his own words.
“You know what I mean,” He said, trying to brush it off. “You have a nice figure. You’re… well-proportioned. ”
“‘Well-proportioned’.” You repeated, watching his flustered state with amusement. “Damn, if this is how you flirt, I think we’re starting to understand why you’re still single.”
He rolled his eyes. “Shut up, smart ass.” He said, trying to brush your comment off, but he could feel the warmth in his cheeks.
“No, c’mon, Mr.Songwriter,” I pressed, trying to get a rise out of him. “I’ve read some of the stuff you’ve written in that notebook, you can be a smooth motherfucker when you wanna be, where’s that guy?”
He deliberated, staring at you for a long moment before speaking again.
“Aright, fine.” He said, giving you a cocky smirk, leaning in close so that you were now trapped between him and the wall.
“Do you even know how much you drive me crazy? Everytime I look at you, I lose my train of thought. There’s just something about you that just draws me in like a moth, I can’t look away. With those gorgeous eyes, those perfect lips...” He leaned in ever closer, his breath ghosting over your face as he murmured. “And those fucking curves that make me wanna fall to my knees everytime I look at you…”
You stared up at him wide eyed, his smooth sultry words causing your brain to cease functioning for a moment before you managed to blink, clearing your throat nervously.
“S-see? That was-, that was good.” You stammered. “If you just do that at the party, I know you’ll win over any girl…”
You turned away abruptly to finish closing up, trying to calm the frantic pounding in your chest, hoping he didn’t notice how flushed and heated your face had become.
Joon dropped his head in frustration. “... yeah, thanks Y/n…”
“You’re hopeless, you’re absolutely goddamn hopeless.” Yoongi exclaimed the next day as Joon sulkingly described what had happened.
He was sitting with him and Hobi in the genius lab, trying to work on an upcoming song while also trying to understand Joons inability to make you see what was glaring you right in the face.
“Seriously, dude, you should’ve just said something right then last night.” Hobi said.
“The timing wasn’t right.” He argued weakly.
“The timing’s never right!” Yoongi exploded. “I swear to God, I bet you could stand in front of her and just straight up say “I love you”, and she'd call you a good friend…”
Hobi let out a laugh in spite of himself, trailing off as he saw Joon’s pained expression.
“Wait, really?” he asked, causing Joon to bury his face in his hands with a low groan.
“Last week.” He mumbled through his hands.
“Shit…” Hobi shook his head, stunned at just how oblivious you were to Joon’s infatuation. “I’m sorry, man, I had no idea.” He said sympathetically.
“Neither does she, apparently!” He shot back, still muffled by his hands. “What do I doooo?”
“You’re just gonna have to be blunt.” Yoongi said. “Because she’s either clueless or playing dumb to avoid making things weird by turning you down. But you’re not gonna know either way unless you put it out there, point blank.”
“He’s right…” Hobi nodded. “I know you’re waiting for a better time, but there’s no time like the present, bro…”
Joon sighed, staring down at his shoes, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, maybe…”
He excused himself quickly, deciding to head home early, cutting through the park as he walked to try and help clear his head, thinking over everything that had happened and what the guys had said.
As he was walking along near the river, he was hit by a few spiteful raindrops, a late summer downpour threatening its arrival overhead, the low rumble of thunder reminding him of how you mentioned once how you liked watching the storms out the window of your apartment.
Everything seemed to remind him of you.
Dammit
He stopped, turning on the spot and taking off in the direction of your building, not paying the rain the least bit of attention. If he didn’t say it now, he didn’t know when he would ever get the nerve again.
By the time he turned up at your friend’s door, he was in the middle of a torrential downpour, soaked to the bone, but he could not care in the least..
“Joon? I- what the fuck are doing, you’re soaked!” You asked in alarm as you opened the front door..
“I’m an idiot.” He blurted out, out of breath.
“Excuse me?” You blinked at him, baffled.
“I’m an idiot, and you’re blind as fuck!”
You stared at him.
“...Okay, this had better be going somewhere-” You started.
“I’ve been trying to pour my heart out to you and find any way I could think of to make you understand how I feel, but nothing seems to get through your thick skull and I can’t take it anymore!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up.
“What the fuck are you talking about?!” You shot back in confusion.
“I. Am. In. Love. With. You!” He spelled out, exasperated. “I’ve been in love with you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. You’re all I think about and I can’t stand not being near you, because you… You’re it, you’re… you’re everything…” He tailed off,
You stood there shock still, your brain struggling to process his words. Suddenly every weird moment between you, every little gesture over the past few months, it was glaringly obvious, and all you could manage in that moment was a small, dumbstruck "Oh..."
“Yeah...”
The two of you stared at each other, the silence deafening as you both struggled to figure out what to do now.
He wanted to hide, to run away, to scream, just something, but he stayed rooted to the spot, staring at you, praying that he hadn’t just absolutely destroyed everything between the two of you.
You blinked, at a loss for words, before stepping forward slowly, doing the only thing you could think of in that moment, taking his face gently in your hands, holding his gaze for a loaded second, giving him the chance to pull away, before pressing the softest of kisses to his lips.
The faint brush of your lips on his was enough to break him out of his frozen state, his arms immediately wrapping around you, the intensity of his feelings taking over his rationality as he leaned in, chasing your mouth with a near desperate need, crushing your lips together in a nearly frantic kiss, the past months of pining after each suddenly pouring out in a single moment as he held you tight in his arms.
He forced himself to pull back, meeting your eyes with a wild intensity, his restraint holding on by a fucking thread.
"Are… are you sure you want this?" His breath came out in ragged pants as he spoke softly, his gaze dark, desire and love mixing into an expression that sent a shiver down your spine.
Nodding frantically, you closed the gap again, claiming his mouth eagerly.
He groaned loudly against your lips, his body responding immediately to your touch, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair, holding you close as desire took over his rational mind, pressing you against the nearest wall.
"You don’t know how long I've wanted to kiss you, touch you, hold you like this..." He whispered, his voice almost a growl.
"... then do it..." You whimpered against his mouth, tangling your tongue with his as you pressed even closer, one of your hands slipping into his hair and giving it a sharp tug.
He moaned at the feeling of your hand in his hair, the sound low and primal. He was losing himself in you, completely intoxicated by your touch and taste. his hands roaming your body, exploring every luscious curve and contour as he kissed you with an intensity that was almost feral.
You broke the kiss, gasping for air, and his lips moved to the sensitive skin of your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point before sucking and licking at the area, leaving a mark as he mumbled against your skin.
"I want you. I need you. right now." He spoke between kisses, his voice rough and needy.
"Joon…" You panted, brain struggling to form a coherent thought, already so overwhelmed by him, his touch.
He let out a low moan at the sound of his name on your lips, it was like music to his ears. He continued to kiss and suck along your neck, his hands slipping beneath your shirt to touch the soft, warm skin of your waist.
"Say it again..." He whispered, his voice ragged and husky. "Say my name again."
"J-joon… please…" You whimpered out, hands coming down to clutch his arms as his hands explored under my shirt, shivering from the contact.
He felt his heart clench at the sight of you, so gone for him already from just his touch. He felt almost overwhelmed himself, undone by your words, your moans, hell just your presence.
He could feel your body pressed against him, your glorious softness against his hardness, and it was driving him wild.
He growled softly, the last of his control snapping as he crushed his lips to yours, claiming your mouth in a rough kiss, pulling you close and steering you backwards towards the bedroom.
He kicked the door shut with his foot, backpedaling you to the bed, hands working frantically at the buttons of your shirt, trying to get it off you as quickly as possible.
“God, I-, fuck!” As he pushed you back onto the bed, he tried to climb on after you, missing the mattress with his knee and toppling to the floor next to the bed.
“Are you okay?!” You asked, scrambling to sit up, out of breath, staring down at him in concern.
“Yeah..” He groaned, sitting back up onto his knees.
You both stared at each other for a long moment before slowly dissolving into laughter, Joon crawled closer, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning his head against your chest as he laughed, his face red with embarrassment.
“So much for the moment.” You giggled, stroking his hair gently. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, sorry.” He chuckled, nuzzling your neck softly, kissing your skin tenderly.
The two of you sat there quietly, just leaning on each other, savoring the simple intimacy of the moment.
“Soo, does this mean that we’re dating, or was this just like a one time thing for the dramatics?” You asked, with a look of genuine curiosity.
He pulled away, gaping up at you.
“I’m just kidding!” You laughed, hugging him tightly to your chest.
Lord give him the strength…
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @seleneacyoflove @k4ngelz @universal-travel-er
#bts x reader#bts x y/n#namjoon x y/n#namjoon x reader#bts x plus size reader#namjoon x plus size reader#namjoon x curvy reader#namjoon x chubby reader#plus size reader#bts x curvy reader#namjoon drabble#namjoon oneshot#namjoon one shot#bts one shot#bts oneshot#bts requests#7ndipity
479 notes
·
View notes
Text
maria's fic recs
i have realized how most of these are smut & idk what that says about me but alas this are some super super amazing talented people who write crazy cool stories!!!! check them out!!!!! make sure to follow, reblog & comment on these fics if you like them!!! these incredible fic writers deserve it! i will also probably be adding more as i read follow my fic rec page for more @mariasficrecs if anyone mentioned in this post wants to be removed let me know <3
spencer reid
cedar - @parfaitblogs summary: in which compatible bodies does not always mean compatible minds, but spencer reid is all too kind when you're like this, so perhaps you're allowed to forget that for a night.
this is the fic for the girlies who have loved someone more than they should, more than they loved you back and more than was ever remotely healthy. this is the kind of fic that makes you reread certain lines just to punch yourself in the chest a second time. masterpiece in pining, delusion, and tragic devotion. genuinely one of the most beautiful, brutal things i've ever read.
in my dream im fixing your crutch - @notlongtolove summary: most nights, spencer wakes to the sound of your sniffles—unlike most nights, he doesn’t have to ask why. the reason is visceral, tangible—staining the sheets when the wound dressing wasn’t tight enough, seeping and pooling right between the both of you where an ocean of your guilt already lies.
this and everythingggg p writes is so incredibly SHATTERING in the best way possible. i truly need everyone to follow rn! and reader everything written by them! but this one specifically wasn't just a fic it was an experience. it's so painful and beautiful and so unfairly written. the duality of intimacy and violence is insaneeeeee like shakespearean level.
into the rose garden; for evermore - @notlongtolove summary: months of hope, weeks of ache. you’ve stayed. you’ve waited. you’ve stayed in the waiting. more pathetic than poetic if you’re being honest. but now, with him standing here with his heart in his hands, it doesn’t feel simple.
might be my favorite fic ive ever read if im being honest. everything about it had me sobbing like a baby. it's not even angst at this point it's a biblical reckoning. p has made heartbreak into a single character, personified pain and i felt every freaking piece of it actually! every single line was freaking perfection & you get to choose your ending!!!!!!! because user notlongtolove is so cool and so creative.
i can do a lot with fifteen minutes - @reidrum summary: in which you and spencer don't make it out the door on date night
i love a sabrina reference (clearly) and this was just the perfect smut fic literally like poetry disguised as desire. i have read a lot of smut (u got me). but nothing compares to a good intimate zipper scene. i will eat it up everytime!!!!!!! and a mirror scene!!!!! double whammy. fantastic 10000/10
hypothalamus - @reidrum summary: in which spencer gets creative on helping you study for your exam
godddddds to have spencer reid talk nerdy to me in bed. so in character. essentially the anatomy lesson of the gods actually. so amazing
sobriquet - @siriuslylantsov summary: spencer reacts to you calling him a nickname for the first time.
so sweet, so fluffy, a love letter to everything good in the world, essentially love seeping into mundane which is my favorite genre!!!! waking up with spencer!! being in love!! angel!!!! i love spencer calling the reader angel girl!!!!! <3
sweeter - @siriuslylantsov summary: in which, you and spencer try out foodplay, through use of whipped cream.
whipped cream!!!!!!!!! i dont have many words other than that! must read
white noise - @brattyspence summary: spencer x reader -- a situationship defined by white noise; a metaphor for how we pacify ourselves and make stupid decisions to experience comfort, even when it hurts
visceral, soul-shattering, gut wrenching agony. that's about it. slow burn destruction that will have you crying. no doubt. this fic literally lulls you into a false sense of security and then u realize that spencer is white noise and that you'd rather have whatever this is than nothing at all. LOL! definitely did not almost kill me while reading. most accurate portrayal of a situationship
chateau lobby #4 - @burymagdalene summary: Whilst trying to navigate romantic relationships after prison, Spencer finds himself in love and caught in an all-too-serious non-relationship with reader. Wanting to break this streak, he asks to spend Valentine's Day properly with a real date. Afterward, they find themselves desperate with trying to express their love for each other.
so as you might be able to tell i have a pattern of reading situationship spence! call me a masochist! but this one had a happy ending okay!!!!!!!! and a reference to father john misty? yes. immediately. i also just love post prison reid because he's so complicated and different but still him and he doesnt think he deserves soft things and soft love and it's so devastating. reading the date literally felt like falling in love in real time. so good.
a closed mouth doesn't get fed - @burymagdalene summary: When reader notices Spencers dark circles and glossy eyes, they store away their pressing need for him in bed. This desire locked away forms into a wet dream that escalates their prior expectations substantially.
one of the best portrayals of sleep-deprived, love-drunk, desperate sex. that's it. that's the tweet. also when he switches the reader's straw like why was that so sweet to me im crying
xoxo - @pathologicalreid summary: in which your daughter goes to the BAU to hand out her extra Valentines
peak domesticity. i love girl dad spence so much it's not even funny. it's everything he deserves. like i can only hope in some alternate au this is the ending reid got <3
to talk is to bare - @esote-rika summary: three times you've never felt enough for Spencer Reid—and the three times he rectified it immediately
one of the most painfully real depiction of navigating self worth in a relationship with spencer. like exactly what i feel like it would be like to be with someone so brilliant and like so unattainable-seeming, while feeling ordinary and yet spencer makes the reader feel so special ugh
in infinite universes - @nereidprinc3ss summary: in which spencer reid picks up uni!reader from a party. you're drunk, and he's in love with you
there is not a single thing (cannot emphasize this enough) that i won't read from nereidprinc3ss okay? everything she writes is actually literary gold. but this one was so beautiful it almost hurts to reid because it's literally a love letter to inevitability!!!!! and the dialogue is so funny and flirty and so spencer and ugh it's so raw and real.
spencer reid & aaron hotchner
unknown territory - @minswriting Spencer walks in on Aaron going down on you. So he watches the two of you have sex.
had to take multiple breathers after reading this! everyone knows i love hotch and reid and even more so i loveeeee a why choose. also everything min writes is so hot, 10/10 recommend checking out her account. "reid, if you're going to stand there and watch, you can at least come in and close the door" hello????????? immediately yes.
aaron hotchner
crazy - @kimstills summary: after one heated and spontaneous night together, aaron can’t seem to get his pretty subordinate (or her pussy) out of his head.
i did in fact read this bad boy like three times because it's that good. it perfectly mirrors hotch's mental state which i love love love. and i just love a smutty fic that has the best escalation of tension, like it builds until hotch physically cannot take it anymore and shewwwww so hot. exactly what i want in a hotch smut fic
savor - @kimstills summary: after being compromised to working a case the next day, aaron decides on savoring your current moment together for when he’s gone.
maddie is just always going to make the hottest aaron hotchner smut. the fact that this idea comes to aaron mid fuck is wild and i love it LOL.
morphine - @luveline summary: you get a good dose, confess your affections, and leave poor, oblivious hotch to fix things up neatly.
so if you follow my fic rec blog you know i literally reblog absolutely everything jade writes because it is just that fantastic. and this one is just soooo tender and so perfectly in character with hotch. if you are looking for truly amazing characterizations of hotch and reid !!!!! right here besties !!!!
filthy flat-pack thoughts - @alinathinkstoomuch summary: you had taken the day off to get yourself settled into your new apartment, not expecting hotch to show up at your door and offer a hand.
hey so firstly im just obsessed with the title, idk why it scratches something in my brain. and i feel like this fic should be illegal because it's not just smut-adjacent, it's foreplay with no touching, sexual frustration in furniture assembly and poor decisions lolol and again everyone who knows me knows i eat upppppp sexual tension and this fic was just that. there is literally no kisses no sex nothing and it's still one of the hottest fics i've ever read (there is also a smutty part two so go check that out as well)
can't lose when i'm with you - @aureatelys summary: You work as a beverage cart girl at your local country club and your dad ropes you in to make him look good during a business meeting with his new best friend.
dbf hotch is my weakness. the slow burn!!!!!! possessive hotch!!! daddy hotch!!!! this is the gold standard for dbf hotch truly. felt like i needed a cigarette after and i don't even smoke
red light kiss - @aureatelys summary: You haven't had sex in a week, you're stuck in the car with your new boyfriend/boss, and he's wearing that damn Kevlar vest. How could you resist?
hey yeah so i was positively feral after reading this actually. that damn kevlar vest is right. idk how you managed to make a blowjob in a government vehicle feel romantic but you did so bravo
tyrant - @solardrop summary: Hotch lets you take some anger out on him after he disrespects you on a case.
my favorite genre !!!!!!! making hotch shut up by sitting on his face! mhm mhm mhm. absolutely amazing use of free will was you writing this because i've read it at least 5 times minimum. i was forever changed
salt & pepper - @dudeitiskarev summary: dad bod and insecure Hotch. That’s it.
everything cat writes is just so crazy good but everyone knows i have such a weakness for dad bod hotch & this is the absolute perfect fic for it.
we can't be friends (wait for your love) - @cerisereids summary: down on your luck after a huge betrayal, you return to live at your father's house with your tail between your legs. you're humiliated, thoroughly convinced nothing good could come from returning home. then you meet aaron hotchner.
there are three parts to this masterpiece and i need everyone to read them all okay? because it's just so good. hotch flustered is my roman empire and grrrrrr this man was literally on his knees for the reader internally through out the whole thing & once again dbf!hotch!!!!! arghhh obsessed
455 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don't Flip your Wig, Steve
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader Summary: Steve and you time travel. Your Steve is not happy meeting his older self because he shows interest in you. Warnings: My attempts at 40s slang | Unabashedly jealous husband | Fluff | Your Steve being annoyed by the old-era Steve | Not so accurate time travel depiction | I benched all my science logic in this | No existence for Peggy ('Coz why even) | Language | Lemme know if I missed anything. A/N: This is a part of Steve Rogers Bingo Round 3 | @steverogersbingo |Prompt | D4: Steve Variant(s) | Modern Steve referred as Your Steve or husband Steve. 40s Steve as old-era Steve. That's all I can think. | I'm a fairly new writer here! So, Reblogs would be great! Follows would be fantastic! Thank you! :) Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! GIF credits to the creator. Thank you :) Divider credits to me. Check out my other works: Masterlist
Indulge Away!
Steve Rogers was testing your bloody patience.
It was a bad idea to bring him here, except Bucky was a bit too beaten up after his last mission and couldn't join you in the mission as he was the only other person from the era who could navigate you to Howard without any suspicion.
Tony said the mission was easy peasy. As if.
It had been more than two days now. Some things went south, like the machine you were here for, which apparently had gone into repair a week ago. So, Howard was fixing it before you took it home.
The issue you mostly predicted was the difficulty explaining to Howard Stark that Steve and you quantum jumped, but to your surprise, that went far better than you imagined.
However, the major predicament came in the form of the 6' 2" golden boy Rogers of that era, who came to Howard for some help. When he saw himself standing before him, he straight-up beat Your Steve without a second thought. Your Steve defended, and did his best not to punch back his older self. He simply held him down until Howard drugged him to calm the poor man's nerves.
Steve Rogers of that era was not accustomed to the convoluted possibilities of science, so it took him a great deal of effort and time to gauge the situation. Were you in his position, you'd have scoffed if someone said they traveled time! Plus, at that time, there was not much material or cinema for the common man to rely on familiarity with traveling through time and space. Maybe if older Steve had read 'A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court,' he'd have been a bit familiar. But, you knew, as a matter of fact, that your Steve did not read a lot of fiction back then.
So, Steve, old-era Steve, thought it must be Hydra's gimmicks, which seemed less bizarre.
That whole fiasco was two days ago. Since then, old-era Steve had been nothing but hospitable to you both, helping you sneak in and out and arranging food and shelter. Everything was good, except he started showing great interest in you and got a bit awkward around you.
Your Steve tried his best to distance you from him. It was very hilarious, to be honest, and you were having a ton of fun.
When the machine was finally here, you all gathered at Howard's lab. Howard was setting up the machine, and you were standing near the table with your Steve. Steve approached you to the annoyance of your Steve.
"Who are you...to me?" he asked curiously.
That era Steve wore trousers and a checkered grey shirt very similar to your Steve, who sported black trousers and a sky blue shirt and looked slightly more appealingly rogueish than the innocent-looking blond. Still, hands down, he had always been handsome, irrespective of the beard or length of hair. He looked truly fucking gorgeous and aged like a luxury wine you couldn't afford without dipping into savings.
"Umm, I'm..." you hesitated, surprised by the question and worried about how he'd take it.
"She's my wife," your husband flung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against him.
Old-era Steve's eyes widened as he looked from his future self to you.
"No gobbledygook?" He chuckled in awe. "Our wife, huh?" he exclaimed in utter astonishment.
Gobbley…what now?
Your Steve stepped in front of you, a bit closer to his older self, ready to punch.
"My. Wife," your husband pronounced, sneering at the man.
You don't want to be a part of this discussion. It was giving you a headache.
"Steve," you chastised your husband, pulling him aside.
"Excuse us," you mumbled at the other Steve, and he looked at you amused.
"What?" your husband frowned when you walked him to the corner of the huge lab. He stood defiantly, hands folded on his chest.
"Don't give me the attitude, mister. I'm gonna beat your ass," your reprimands went to deaf ears as his frown grew deeper.
"I don't like him," he exclaimed in anger.
"What?" Your surprised laugh caught Howard's attention as he looked from where he was working. You simply smiled, giving him a thumbs up to ease his worry.
Your husband shrugged.
"Are you hearing yourself? He's you," You poked his chest, whisper shouting.
Placing his hands around your waist, Steve pulled you towards him. Winding his hand around you, he held you there, kissing your lips passionately in a surprising urgency. Steve Rogers was a private man, though he always held onto your hand and kissed your cheek or forehead, but he never kiss kissed you.
You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but his lips consumed you. Your heart skipped a beat as he deepened the kiss once you yielded.
Somewhere in the corner of your still-working logical mind, you understood that Steve's insecurities were showing. All this time travel definitely made him nostalgic, especially vulnerable. When you broke away from the kiss, you embraced him tightly.
You felt like you were looking at a much younger Steve, a lanky Brooklyn man at that moment. You sometimes forget that the version of Steve was always lurking at the surface of his insecurities. Technically, he had only been with you his entire life, his one true love, his only girlfriend, and his wife.
"You know that I love you, no matter what," you whispered, smiling softly at your man.
"I just... I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I love you."
"It's okay, let's get what we are here for, and go home, Okay?" You looked up at him expectantly.
"Can't wait. He is annoying, and he is showing way too much interest in you," he snickered in distaste.
You placed a kiss on his chest, which usually calmed him.
You broke apart when Howard motioned you to come closer to show the workings of the machine and the technicalities.
Your husband walked closer to you; old Steve stood beside him, a bit amused having heard your conversation, what with his enhanced hearing and all.
Steve Rogers couldn't wait for his future, whatever it held in it, he was sure he would meet you one day. That rejoiced him, and until you both traveled back to your home, he couldn't help but poke fun at his future self.
Okay, if you were wondering ...🤭
Gobbledygook: talking gibberish or nonsense Flip your wig: losing composure or control
If you wanna be tagged in my works, add yourself here. <3 Please send me a message if you wanna be removed from the Tag list. :)
Tags: @nekoannie-chan @salvatoreitmeanssaviour
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#captain america#captain america x you#steve rogers imagine#steve x reader#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers fanfiction#time travel#steve rogers bingo round 3#steve fluff#steve rogers ficlet#steve rogers#captain rogers#captain america x reader#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers fic#captain america fanfiction#captain america x y/n#steve rogers fluff#captain america imagine#steve rogers imagines#marvel cinematic universe#steve x y/n#steve rogers fandom#captain america x female reader#captain america fluff#steve rogers x reader fluff#marvel mcu
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Supernatural Involvement and Ominous Signs in ASLFUA
For a while, many readers have theorized that there is some kind of a higher power/higher being in ASLFUA, and looking at the latest episodes it seems to have been confirmed. With this post, I've tried to gather every instance of the higher power's implied presence and all the ominous scenes in the story. I also included foreshadowing scenes that could have made Miae aware of certain things if she had paid attention because coincidences are important in the story, and certain moments that were defining in the plot. The list contains spoilers for the newest KR episodes and it keeps being updated.
Episode 2 :
Miae is reading a book in the library about how the last day of 1999 will be the end of the world: "'1999, a terrifying overlord is coming...the end of the human race.." -> this might be a reference to the famous prophecy of Nostradamus in which in the 7th month of 1999 a great king of terror would descend from the skies (which makes me think...is it July in the story right now?)
The Hwang family's phone stops working
Miae's dresser breaks and therefore she has to take out the trash, where she sees Cheol crying
"This boy is about to be this girl's most special person, someone whom she will never be able to forget."
Episode 3
Miae and her mother visit the Buddha statue and Miae's wish is not to be in the same class with Cheol - it doesn't come true.
Miae, Cheol and Jisu all become classmates in their last year. Miae and Cheol become deskmates by coincidence.
Episode 4
Cheol's furniture becomes Miae's, along with the contents of his dresser, something only he knows about
Episode 5
Yunhui calls Miae on their new cordless phone, the line is interrupted by another conversation, "Did you get the present I sent you?" - it sounds like a message to Miae from the higher power about Cheol
Episode 8
Miae ruins her bangs, her mother says she should do something about her hair - the first time we are told Miae should go to a hairdresser to fix it
Hwanggeum Academy uses corporal punishment - might be relevant later on?
Miae has to go to karaoke so she gives up on going to the hair salon (this foreshadowing is super crazy btw)
Episode 9
Cheol is compared to the protagonist of the comic Miae reads, 'My First Love Next Door Is Number 1' - gets into trouble and transfers, fights the school bully and wins, nicknamed Lucifer, has a facial scar, lives next door
As Miae is thinking about Cheol, her thoughts are interrupted by a cockroach in the classroom
Episode 11
Miae notes how strange it is that she keeps seeing Cheol while they didn't bump into each other the previous year (just like how Jisu later keeps commenting how strange he keeps meeting Miae) - Miae acknowledges the higher power
Yunhui's pager says "between friends goodbye"
Episode 12
Miae has a weird feeling when she's talking to Cheol's shoe as if it understands what she's saying
Episode 15
In her dream, Miae remembers Cheol crying and her making a wish with a stone tower about how she wants to be his friend. The phone suddenly rings, the TV becomes static and there's a storm outside despite the weather forecast not saying anything about it. The other end of the phone is silent and the lights go out.
Episode 17
Cheol's shoe gets smudged with ink so Miae cannot give it back to him. She cannot concentrate on her practice test, foreshadowing her involvement with Cheol's academy.
Episode 21
Miae again remembers some memories about Cheol saying he doesn't want to be her friend while she's sleeping
Side note: while Soonkki is a great writer, there's some inconsistency about Jisu's seating arrangement. I think she always meant him to sit in Block 1, that's why we got limited panels of that area of the classroom, but his position kept changing until his official introduction. Here, he should have been sitting in front of Seonghan, but there's another boy in that seat. In episode 23, we get a panel of Block1 again, and there's a boy who looks like Jisu from behind in that.
She again remembers her time with Cheol while sleeping on the bus
Episode 24
Daebak Academy notebook says "The teacher is spoon-feeding you, so why can't you pass" -> the higher power is giving hints to Miae, why can't she understand them?
Episode 29
Miae thinks about how she doesn't bump into Cheol as much as before, we get a close-up of the shoe and the Daebak Academy notebook
Episode 37
Miae falls on Cheol while playing soccer
Episode 39
Miae and Cheol are arguing but still bump into each other because of their parents
While Miae thinks about how Cheol should smile at people, she almost gets hit by a ball but Cheol saves her.
Episode 40
Cheol goes to Miae's house to do their homework. Miae's mother says she wonders if it will rain before she leaves. Cheol tries to change the lightbulb in Miae's room, but the lights go out because of the storm. Miae thinks "again?" and they fall on each other. She tells Cheol they should be friends.
Episode 41
Cheol agrees to be Miae's friend and we see a flashback of young Miae wishing they would be friends. While they are doing their homework the rain stops. Miae says planes even fly in the rain and Cheol replies that airplanes fly above the clouds.
Episode 42
Miae answers their phone and the line is interrupted again. Someone thanks their boss for the present and says they will do well on their own from now. -> is it a sign Miae should do well on her own after the hints?
Interesting to note that every time Miae might be involved with the higher power, certain objects in her room are highlighted - Cheol's shoe, the lamp, the notebooks. They all give signs to Miae that she keeps ignoring.
Episode 43
Cheol and Yonghui point out that Miae should get a haircut. Miae ends up cutting it herself instead of going to a salon.
Episode 45
Miae wishes upon a star instead of a plane so that the presentation in class will go okay. This actually comes true, as also noted by the narrator in ep 46.
Episode 46
Daebak Academy booklet says "nothing comes easy"
Episode 47
Something I've noticed is that throughout the story Miae keeps thinking she forgot something, and there's usually a situation that seems like the answer to it. Here, it turns out she forgot about Jinseop's homework. And Taekwang's song is about how someone cannot do both things at the same time. It was the same when she forgot about her homework while playing soccer. Forgetting about things is a recurring plot point for Miae, which culminates in the Jisu subplot where we learn Miae completely forgot about his existence even though she didn't have many friends who were boys.
Episode 50
Cheol's father wants to take a picture of Cheol and Miae, but Cheol refuses
Episode 51
Miae again cuts her own hair and wonders if she cut it too straight
Episode 55
Cheol kicks Miae's pencil into Jisu's chair (side note: you can see here again how Jisu's seating arrangement was inconsistent, he should have been closer to the window)
Episode 56
Miae gets sent out to the corridor with Jisu
Miae's friends talk about handsome boys and someone mentions the number1 student (Jisu)
Episode 60
Jisu becomes Miae's folk dance partner - the first time Cheol and Miae are not doing something together
Episode 61
Hwanggeum Academy booklet says "there's nothing you can't do if you put the work in, do not expect a miracle" when Miae is struggling with the dance
Episode 65
Cheol's father takes a picture of Cheol and Miae after the sports festival
Episode 66
In Miae's dream, Cheol's sister says for a while means 5-6 yrs, Miae counts she will be in middle school by then. There's also a memory of Miae running after Cheol, saying "wait for me".
Miae's mother tells her to get a haircut but Miae replies she needs a bigger allowance for it.
The narrator says Miae should watch where she's walking after she bumps into Cheol.
Episode 67
Miae loses her name tag and Jisu finds it
Episode 70
Miae wonders how her wishes never come true, but remembers she also made one with the stone tower as a kid, but cannot recall what it was about.
Episode 71
Miae's mom notes their phone keeps ringing since yesterday. That day Miae wanted to tease Cheol with how she heard him saying he "loved her" in the shop and she saw him shirtless the same night.
Miae doesn't realize it was Jisu who called her a pervert
Episode 72
Miae notices someone wearing her name tag (Jisu), but doesn't find the culprit
Episode 75
Cheol wants to ask Miae something, but the homeroom teacher interrupts. Miae and Jisu get called to the teachers' room and have to do cleaning duty together for a week.
Episode 76
We see Miae's mom at a hair salon - could the lady in orange be Jisu's mother? who knows
Episode 77
Cheol stands up for Miae, but when Honggyu asks if they are dating, they both vehemently deny it. It suddenly starts raining.
Episode 78
Miae and cheol promise to be friends for real, forever. The narration comments, "But will they end up regretting their promise?". The rain stops. "1999, the final year of the century is half over" -> Miae's story is half over at this point. I have pointed out this before, but the series seems to be about the transition period between childhood and young adulthood, symbolized by the last year before the new millennium. Hence the title, 'green apple academy'
In her dream, Miae remembers asking Cheol if they are friends. She is awoken by their phone. the Daebak Academy notebook says "you are in danger if you are relaxed" and we see a girl talking to Cheol.
Episode 81
Cheol and Miae fall on each other and almost kiss, but the phone rings. Later, they do end up in the same position with an accidental kiss.
Episode 82
Miae wants to confront Cheol about the kiss and gets embarrassed, but her actions are interrupted when the trash bag she gave Jisu splits open, spilling its contents. Miae runs to him to collect it.
Episode 83
While Miae talks to her friends, she thinks back on her memories with Cheol and the narration says "I always liked.." and Miae looks surprised by it.
Episode 86
Interesting detail that Cheol doesn't know why Miae keeps looking at airplanes. If we assume she has a reason for doing it from the past, it's likely not related to Cheol.
Episode 87
Miae uses the trashbag as an excuse to run away from Cheol, repeating how she has to throw it out. All of a sudden, Jisu appears and takes it out of her hand, giving her a chance to run. It's just my personal theory that the trashbag here symbolizes Miae's vulnerability and reluctance to face her feelings, and Jisu takes it from her hand. It makes sense when we remember how his words made her think about her actions when she wanted to interrupt the confession. It's a great early foreshadowing that Jisu might play an important role in Miae's growth story as her voice of reason.
Episode 89
Cheol and Miae take photos together in a photo booth, first with Jinseop and Song-I, then the two of them alone. We don't know if Miae still has her pictures, but we can assume she somehow lost them during running around from the bullies because we never see them again. Cheol gives her a new name tag in the next episode.
Episode 95
Cheol gifts Miae an airplane model for her birthday. I personally believe this episode marks the end of the first part of the story and it's a turning point, but more about this under ep96.
While Miae leaves for school, their phone suddenly rings and her mom answers it. Miae sees posters about love on her way to school. For the first time, Jisu arives early for cleaning duty.
Episode 96
The series has had 2 symbolic illustrations at the end of 2 episodes. The first one was at the end of ep2, when Cheol and Miae's story started in the present:

Miae is offering a green apple to Cheol - a biblical allusion, here, the green apple probably signifies how Miae helps Cheol in the first part of the story to mature and grow as a person with her own knowledge.

This illustration comes at the end of ep96. Like I mentioned, I believe this marks the start of the second half of the story which focuses on Miae's growth as a person. Space is an important concept in the series, Miae also has planet stickers on the wall of her room,has a charm on her bag, etc.
"16 years old. An age much like the universe." "16 years old. An age where it's like you're thrown into space." - highlights the narration.
But why is it compared to space? We have the illustration right after Jisu splashes water on Miae's face and Cheol wakes up from his dream. In my opinion, it's because this is where these kids' limited worlds start to expand. In part 1, Cheol and Miae were mainly together, but as you grow up you start to feel like you're just one insignificant part of a greater whole. You might feel like you're the center of the universe when you're a teenager, and that the world is ending when you experience negative emotions, but as the illustration shows us, it's not just Miae and Cheol standing alone in the universe. There are other people, facing different directions, but they are all interconnected by an invisible force. Miae is looking at Cheol, but Jisu is standing in her shadow- because even though she was not aware of him, Jisu had his own life happening parallel to what we saw in part1, and this is where he starts to have an intersection with Miae. If there is a higher power in the story, it is aware of all these connections and talks about youth in a nostalgic way. The sense that these moments are fleeting is always present in the story, however, connections formed between individuals will always have a lasting impact, just like how the universe will continue to exist. Being thrown into space might feel like losing your footing, but here it's the personal relationships that ground these teenagers and make them stay close to Earth.
Episode 98
The teacher tells Miae to cut her hair after Jisu takes the blame for ruining the plant.
Cheol is acting strange because of his dream, and while Jisu looks at Miae the narration box says: "16 years old. An age riddled with the unknown, just like the universe."
Episode 99
Miae's hair gets stuck in the zipper of Cheol's bag and he pulls it out, ruining her bangs in the process. They go to the infirmary after Miae gets scratched by the zipper.
Episode 100
At the countryside, while Miae picked a flower she thought how nice it would be if Cheol came to her school - and it became true. She thinks how it was so strange -> Miae again unknowingly acknowledges the higher power when it comes to Cheol
Episode 101
It's raining and the TV is not working in Cheol's home. He remembers taking a picture with Miae in the countryside. He asks his father about the picture on the sports day -> the data was lost. Miae gets grounded by her mother and she wants her to quit the academy.
Episode 102
I've mentioned symbolic objects in the story, but this one was noted by other readers as well: in ep 101, Miae accidentally drops the chalkboard eraser out of the window and Jisu fails to catch it - but Cheol does. However, in this episode Miae tosses it back to Jisu before saying she hopes they'll never see each other again (it's the first, but not the last time she declares it).
Cheol fails to convince Miae's mom about the academy -> Miae's mom points out Miae's grades have been dropping since last year. She makes her stance clear - she wants Miae to study.
Episode 103
It's raining and Miae cannot open Cheol's drawer in her room.
She tries to cut her hair, but the phone rings. On the other line, Miae hears someone saying "I only did what I did because you wanted it so bad, but you screwed up that chance! You don't deserve that project, I'm going to hand it to someone else." -> the first time the higher power tries to directly say Miae is late
Miae's mom cuts her hair instead of sending her to a salon...
Miae loses the name tag Cheol gave her
Episode 104
Jisu says "see you again" to Miae (and will keep saying for a while lol). Miae points out she never wanted to see him again.
Episode 106
After the teacher discovers their conversations in class, Miae and Cheol get separated and Miae becomes Jisu's deskmate. Miae and Cheol are not allowed to interact until the final exams are over.
Hwanggeum Academy's notebook remarks "Do you regret it now?"
Episode 107
Miae dreams about the flower from the countryside and a voice says she should hurry up and do what she wants about her wish if she remembers. She doesn't remember and the voice gets angry, Cheol appears and crushes the flower, telling her if she doesn't remember she should just forget it. The voice remarks Cheol is angry because Miae is late.
Episode 111
Jisu, who has also become aware of the coincidences, tells Cheol he's not the only one having something special with Miae.
When Miae calls Jisu her friend from the same class and tells him he should learn for himself, Jisu tries to say something, but he is interrupted by Cheol.
Episode 112
Miae thinks about their bet and how she should ask something serious, something more than friends do from Cheol, and we get a bunch of error messages. Cheol's dream is all fuzzy.
Jisu wins the bet, but we never get to know his wish because Miae gets angry at him.
Episode 115
The narration points out Cheol has changed and matured a lot, is it Miae's turn?
Episode 116
We see some posters about a summer festival, the forest in Midsummer Night's Dream and how everything is the product of coincidence.

The forest in Shakespeare's play is dominated by the supernatural - what we have in common with this story is the forest Miae and Cheol played together as kids, and obviously the involvement of a higher power. The coincidences poster is possibly a reference to Carl Jung's Synchronicity, a concept that states that seemingly meaningful coincidences have a deeper meaning, they don't have a rational explanation - almost like destiny, a deeper order in the universe. It's a connection between one's psyche and the material world (so you have to notice and acknowledge the deeper meaning of these coincidences in order to experience synchronicity). Jung used this to argue for the existence of the paranormal. For example, if you cannot decide something, you might come across a book on the topic. What a coincidence, right? In this interpretation, everything is interconnected in the universe, and we are a part of this web of connections. So those coincidences...were actually not coincidences. -> Hmmmmm.....I wonder.....meaningful coincidences, the universe, connections...why do they sound familiar??? BECAUSE OUR STORY IS EXACTLY ABOUT THIS NOTION! Who notices these coincidences? Miae about Cheol, Jisu about Miae....One has to be open to the possibility of the connection between our inner world and the outside world, only then they can start to notice the signs the universe is sending them. Soonkki, you deserve my applause! Because it was exactly what I said about the art at the end of ep 96 and the placement of the characters. Mind? Blown!
Miae thinks that she feels something is wrong
Yunhui's pager says friends goodbye
Jisu gets involved in the Yonghui-Yunhui storyline by coincidence
Episode 117
We see all the coincidences from Jisu's perspective and how he became aware of them. And what does he say about them? That they are fascinating and kind of funny! My boy Jisu got the synchronicity message.
This is the 3rd time Miae and Jisu didn't hold hands. The first time Miae pretended to help him up, only for him to fall back. Then Jisu held out his hand after the exam, but she didn't take it. Here, he again reaches out and Miae doesn't take his hand. Remember this later!
Episode 118
Someone steps on Cheol's bag, and he's worried it might be Taeuk
Jisu wants to join in another bet in exchange for his help
Episode 119
Jisu gets involved in the Shim storyline, and as we know from later he picks up the cigarettes to get revenge on him
Episode 122
Miae learns that Cheol rejected Seonyeong and the lights flicker in her room
She cannot remember her dream. The narration says that she should have realized that something changed.
Episode 123
Miae notes that she experienced the kiss in the comic book with Cheol
Jisu almost catches her, but Cheol pushes him away
Episode 126
The parents are having dinner together at a pig feet restaurant and toast for the future of their children. The TV is not working, and a boy who looks like Jisu tries to fix it.
Miae kisses Cheol
Episode 127
Miae has a dream again in the white dress. As she realizes she might like Cheol, the voice says she's too late and there's no use regretting it.
Episode 129
Miae remembers that they took a picture in the countryside together and wants to take one now. She makes a wish to an airplane about how she just wants one photo, and remarks that the planes never granted her wish before. Spoiler, they won't this time, either.
Miae chooses to take the picture with Cheol. The narration box says "she's always done whatever she sets her mind to. That has always been one of her better attributes. But Mi-ae, it seems as though you keep forgetting something. I told you, you're too late."
The pager's message means idiot, cancelled and it suddenly starts raining. Maie and Cheol cannot take their photo and Cheol cannot give her back the hairpin she dropped a few eps ago.
Episode 132
Graduation photos were postponed until the second semester
In Miae's dream, the voice says she's all over the place and cannot decide what she wants from Cheol. In her memory, Miae wishes at the stone tower that Cheol would like her back. The voice angrily remarks how it must not mean much to her.
Episode 133
While Cheol and Miae are looking at each other, Miae is smacked in the face by a flyer. Later while they are riding the bike, Cheol almost says she looks pretty but he is hit in the face with a flyer that belonged to Jisu.
Episode 134
Miae takes the cigarettes from Jisu and puts them in her backpack
While Jisu and Miae look at each other, the narration box says "Well. this is what we would call fate. What do you think?" Miae can sense the voice and dismisses it.
Jisu again says "see you later" and Miae answers let's not, but Jisu replies they never know and it would be fun.
On the radio in Miae's room there's a voice speaking, asking if it was a success and how there is something you can't stop thinking about. "A friend? The fact that you weren't wrong? Whatever it is, I don't think it's such a bad thing to obsess over it a little bit. I hope you have no regrets about it."
Episode 135
Miae's eyebrow and bangs are so ruined she has to finally go to a hair salon. Yunhui gives her money and says there's a cheap place where she can go. It turns out Jisu's mother is a hairdresser and after realizing she is Jisu's friend, she doesn't ask for money. So if anyone ever wondered why Miae kept ruining her hair in the story, here's the answer....
a little bit of strange wording here:

The narration says "Now that I think about it, this was about the time..wait,no, it was a little bit earlier that things started to go wrong, little by little. You two were completely oblivious, though. Just you two."
Miae's mother goes to the academy. One theory I can give on this is that Miae's family might be moving. She wished for it at the start of the story, mentions it in a later episode as well. Who knows ~
Episode 138
Miae doesn't tell Cheol her feelings because of her pride as she feels like she would lose first
Miae has a feeling as if something is trying to make her look bad in front of Cheol and her gun suddenly starts working
Everybody forgot to buy the picture they took together in ep 139
Episode 140
After conveying their feelings indirectly to each other, Miae tells Cheol they cannot date right now because her mom wouldn't allow it. She plans to go to the same high school, university, everything and thinks there's no one to stop them so nothing can go wrong.
Episode 141
Cheol imagines high school together with Miae and their friends
Every time Cheol is flustered, he accidentally drinks his sister's coffee and he cannot sleep at night..in a story where dreams are relevant I'm sure this is just a coincidence, right???🧐🙃😏
Miae says they should not be obvious before the entrance exam and they start to think of it as a competition
Someone watches them from the street
Episode 144-145
We get everything from Cheol's POV
Cheol got his scar because he wanted to give Miae the romance book she liked before they left and he fell on the stone tower
The picture his dad took of them is about a young Cheol accidentally kneeling with flowers in his hands, the same flowers from Miae's dream, in front of Miae. This picture was in the book Cheol and his family kept.
Cheol realized the book was in his dresser that is now in Miae's room, the one she couldn't open before
Episode 146
Miae sees two flyers in the newspaper, one is about how a student still didn't give it up, the other is about changing one's car
On the street, the same car ads keep flying after her in the wind
Miae goes with Yonghui to wait in a line and the same flyers are all over the place
Episode 147
Miae wants to call Cheol, but Jisu stops her. Miae notices how often they have met during vacation, and Jisu says these coincidences are fun. He remarks it's almost like as if some higher power is involved (!!). Miae is standing on the car ad, they look down on it with Jisu, then she kicks it away. Jisu tells her he has a feeling they will meet again, but Miae hopes they won't.
The academy is also full of the car ads and Miae falls on them
Miae thinks that for a while she's had a feeling as if something wants to get between her and Cheol, but brushes it off
Miae ends up with a bubble gum in her hair and goes to Jisu's house to fix it. Jisu tells her she should stay because he is bored, and there is a car ad on a stool.
Episode 148
We see some of Jisu's childhood memories and he was called a magpie by Miae which was a symbolic choice (I also made a post about it). Jisu in this story is the grateful magpie.
Miae and Jisu "touch hands" for the first time when they high-five (I wrote about how their hand hold never happened before)
After spotting some men smoking, Jisu tells Miae to go inside (one of them might be his father?)
Episode 149
Miae finally remembers Jisu
the narration boxs keeps saying how Jisu is cool and showing heart-thumping sounds and Miae is confused about these strange things
Miae not remembering Jisu was an important plot point considering she recalled everyone else from her past. As I theorized, memories and fate seem to be intertwined, the synchronicity theory also supports this. Synchronicity happens when seemingly unrelated events coincide and they become significant to you. It's easy to see why Jisu was aware of this notion, but Miae was not - because Miae had no idea about those coincidences other than meeting Jisu randomly. Him being her classmate, being the one who found her pencil, who helped her in the crowd, found her name tag, etc. - only Jisu knew about these. But right now, Miae was made aware that they knew each other in the past - a pretty big coincidence.
So now that Miae might have kickstarted her own fate, the question is whether she will be able to fight it or if there are certain things bound to happen no matter what. Is the narrator omnipotent and omniscient? So many questions that will hopefully get answered.
Episode 150
For the first time, Miae says she and Jisu will see each other again sometime. Before this, it was always Jisu who said it and Miae would reply that she didn't want to meet him again.
Miae remembers Jisu transferring, but doesn't know why he singled her out (so she will probably recall more memories later)
As Miae leaves Jisu's house, the car ads are flying in the air around her
Jisu enrolls at the academy and for the first time he says it's not a coincidence
Episode 155
Hwani tells her mother it would be great if they could keep being neighbours with Miae because she's fun. After a pause, Cheol's mother agrees.
Jisu keeps telling Miae she's a "traitor" or "bat" (depending on the translation, meaning she keeps secrets from others like the Yonghui Yunhui situation and the fact that she went to Jisu's house) and she might get into trouble because of that
Episode 156
The narrator directly communicates with Miae again, and informs us about Miae's thoughts. It makes heart-thumping sounds when she's with Jisu just like in previous episodes, but Miae ignores them.
Jisu again says how the coincidences are so fun. He counts to three until the teacher interrupts Miae and Cheol's bickering (similarly to Taekwang in ep 158)
When Jisu tells Miae he'll go out of the room to let her talk with Cheol, Miae thinks she'll talk to him regardless of anyone's interference and we get a close-up of an academy notebook saying 'NO' and a plane flying in the sky.
Episode 158
Flashforward in the episode to a scene with Cheol leaving Miae at the academy while a storm is coming and Miae looks like she's about to cry
An hour earlier in the story the dark clouds are already gathering (I mentioned how rainy weather is always connected to the change in Miae and Cheol's relationship, and how it's usually an ominous sign). After seeing Jisu's flustered face, Cheol tells Miae that he wants to change the lightbulb in her house before she gets hurt. The lights at the academy are highlighted as they keep vibrating. (I also noted how the lights are signs of the supposed higher power, they get their own panels in Miae's room, and they went out 2 times when Miae and Cheol's relationship changed)
After Jisu reveals that Miae was in his house and Cheol gets angry, Miae's pager starts buzzing (again, the pager messages always appear when the higher power wants to communicate with Miae).
Taekwang is an interesting character because the things he says are sometimes connected to the greater theme of the story. Like when he listened to his music and said how Miae cannot choose two things at the same time (come on, it was the foreshadowing for the current conflicts!), he smelled Jisu on Miae (???), Jisu even said he's the one he cannot deal with, and now he was counting the seconds until Miae got another sign. Is he used as a medium? (who knows lol)
Miae wants to check the pager message but the fluorescent lamp(?) breaks. Jisu shields Miae from the shards while they fall on the ground, making it his first successful attempt to save Miae in the story. The pager lands in the corner of the room.
Episode 159
Miae goes to a phone booth to check her messages and it's filled with the car ads so she kicks them away
The first message is a loud noise of a song recording. I personally think if there's a higher power in the story, this message came from it. The other is about Miae's friends telling her they'll visit her at her academy which gives Miae a sense of panic knowing Yonghui and Yunhui might meet.
Miae sees an airplane in the sky and the narration says Miae has a feeling that something is interfering with her and the panels get fuzzy with flashbacks to phone calls earlier in the story (omg this is actually crazy)
It starts raining and we get a glimpse of the last countryside memory we haven't seen yet about Miae running after Cheol at night. In the present, Miae trips just as she did as a kid, but instead of Cheol she meets Tae Uk.
#aslfua#after school lessons for unripe apples#theory#this became so long I feel like dying lol#there's so much work behind this so please be kind and respectful about it#no this is not a post about how Miae and Jisu should end up together#these are my observations about the story and the role of the supernatural entity#it's not a shipping post#sorry for the mistakes#but I'm incredibly tired#These kids are 15 stop arguing about their love lives#Meta
849 notes
·
View notes
Text
eyes on the prize
a/n: me writing a fic where rafe is actually wholesome and nice? i didn't see it coming either... this idea just came to me when you were all voting for the kinktober fic a while ago, and i was prepping that it maybe could go in this direction and then ended up falling too much in love with the fantasy, so i simply had to get it out of my system.
summary: “in a week, when we’ve turned in the assignment, and everything is over, I want you to come watch me fight… watch me win…” a cocky smirk twitched at the corner of his lips as he awaited your answer.
warnings: mma!rafe cameron x reader, smut, college au, study buddies to lovers, soft!rafe, autumnal vibes, takes place in the beginning of november, studying, friday the 13th references, scaredy cat!reader, violence, mma fights, kissing, semi-public sex, clothed sex, dirty talk, manhandling, ripping pantyhose, size kink, spit kink, hole inspection, penetrative sex, unprotected sex
word count: 2626
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist

“So,” you hesitantly broke the silence that had fallen over both you and the partner that had been assigned to you on this current project, “did you get up to anything fun on Halloween?”
Glancing up from the thick book Rafe’s bored gaze was rushing through, it instead lingered on you for but a moment as his mutter reverberated in the quiet corner of the university’s library, “uhm, yeah. I popped by a party for a bit.”
“The one at delta neu?” a glint flickered in your eye as soon as he offered you a nod, “me too! Though I went home kinda early, so we might have missed each other… what did you going as?”
“Jason,” he simply uttered.
“Jason who?” the soft smile didn’t fade from your lips as his short answer hadn’t landed the way he’d hoped.
“You know,” his brows furrowed slightly at your cluelessness, repeating once again as if the name alone should be enough for you to understand, “Jason.”
“…Jason Statham? Jason Momoa?” your eyes squinted as you quietly attempted to hit the bullseye, “uhm… I can’t really think of any other famous Jasons right now…”
“No, Jason from Friday the 13th. You know, the dude with the hockey mask and the machete.”
“Ah, him… yeah, I haven’t watched those movies,” you shrugged, “but, cool costume.”
“Wait, you’ve never seen Friday the 13th?” he tilted closer to where you sat across the table from him, “not even the cheesy remake?”
“Nope,” you simply returned your gaze to the textbook beneath your fingers.
“Seriously?” his eyebrows didn’t float back down yet, “well, I don’t know if I should be offended that you’ve never watched that masterpiece before or jealous that you get to experience it for the first time, but either way, that’s a problem we need to fix.”
At first, you thought you’d entered the wrong building.
That was until you rounded the corner, and your gaze fluttered up from the map still open on your phone, guiding you to the mysterious address your study partner had texted you, asking you to meet up with him there before the rest of your plans could unfold, that you discovered that you hadn’t stumbled into the wrong place.
Though that wasn’t the only thing you discovered in that moment as the culmination of that enlightenment was spotting Rafe in the middle of the industrial and cold gym, going through the tail end of some drills with his trainer.
As he went through the combinations and grunted like a guard dog, sweat dripped down from his brow and rolled so low that it cascaded over his already glistening and bare chest.
You hadn’t really noticed how your feet had stopped or how your pulse had picked up so fiercely that you could feel it between your thighs before his own eyes located you and he flashed you a smile.
“Hey!” his voice cut through your trance as he patted his coach on the shoulder and began to near the edge of the ring.
“H-hi,” you blinked, shaking your fuzzy head slightly to clear it, “I didn’t know you were into this sort of stuff,” you briefly waved a hand to the gym around you and tried your best to rip your stare away from his heaving chest.
“Yeah,” he began to loosen a glove, “sorry I asked you to meet me here, I’m just really busy these days cause I’ve got a fight coming up.”
“Oh, well we don’t have to have a silly movie night if you don’t have the time,” you averted your gaze, recalling how before you’d been paired with him on the assignment for Callahan’s class, you hadn’t even been sure of what his name was. You’d just known him as the hot guy, three rows behind you.
“No, no, I want to, unless of course you’ve changed your mind.”
Blinking back up into his eyes, you smiled, “definitely not.”
“Well, great,” a grin spread across his lips, “then just give me a second,” he cast a brief glance over his broad shoulder at the locker room, “and then we can head back to my place,” a notion you hadn’t expected would have ended with you up on the back of his motorcycle, a terrifying concept that you’d somehow been unable to deny as the crush that had blossomed and bloomed within your heart for him had made it near impossible for you to say no to a single one of his suggestions.
“You never told me what you went as,” Rafe hummed beside you, causing your eyes to tear away from the horror movie buzzing on the TV.
Blinking over at him next to you on the leather couch, your fingers began to fiddle with the blanket you’d slumped over yourself, “oh, well I didn’t wanna buy anything new, so I just went through my closet and ended up going as Britney Spears because I found the skirt of my old school uniform. I don’t even remember why I brought it with me the last time I went home, but–, ah!” a shriek suddenly shuttered through your form as your eyes accidentally fluttered back towards the screen just in time to witness the villain sink a large blade into the head of one of the drunk teenagers, “oh my god!” your frame couldn’t help but jump at the fright, nearly tossing the blanket across the room as you instinctively hid your features in the mass of Rafe’s bicep.
As your heart raced and thumped in your chest, you felt Rafe’s shoulder begin to move before you heard his laughter.
“Shut up, it’s not funny!” you smacked him lightly in the chest, though kept your vision darkened by his shirt, “so I’m not desensitised to the horrors of scary movies, big whoop!” a mutter then slipped out of your lungs, “fuck, why did I agree to this? I’m probably gonna have nightmares for weeks…”
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s just a movie,” you felt his palm find your arm in a soothing rub as his voice hummed directly above the crown of your head, “and the scene is almost over.”
“I can’t look…” you felt yourself lean more into his touch.
“…do you want me to describe it to you?”
“No…” you lingered in the security of his warmth and felt the terror slowly melt from your bones. Cupping a hand on the side of your face to shield your eyes from the horrors on screen, you carefully plucked your face just shy out of his safety before you uttered, “…just tell me when it’s over…”
The blaring light from the television reflected against the side of Rafe’s face as he gazed down into your eyes and breathed, “okay,” his stare slowly dipping and fluttering down towards your lips.
It wasn’t till now that you noticed how close you’d accidentally scooted to him as you weren’t far from just sitting in his lap.
Sharing his breath, your mind went entirely blank and only switched back on when you’d closed the distance betwixt your lips and now found yourself kissing your study buddy.
Thankfully, your brain didn’t get a chance to begin spiralling as it only took Rafe half a second to reciprocate the sudden move and kiss you back.
His strong hands found the small of your waist buried beneath the woollen blanket before he began to drag you closer, pulling you so near that you actually did wind up sitting in his lap, your fingers fluttering against his buzzcut as his own scooped down over the curve of your ass.
When the movie gently humming from behind you was long forgotten and your soul instead had drifted straight to heaven, you felt Rafe tilt his head back to breathlessly utter, “come watch my fight…” his forehead still pressed against your own.
Scarcely picking up on the words behind his honied hum, you breathed, “what?”
Reeling back just enough for his eye to catch your own dazed pair, he said, “in a week, when we’ve turned in the assignment, and everything is over, I want you to come watch me fight… watch me win…” a cocky smirk twitched at the corner of his lips as he awaited your answer.
You’d never seen a fight in real life before.
Not boxing, not mixed martial arts as this was, not even a juvenile one in a schoolyard.
At one point, when you thought all hope seemed lost, when Rafe got pinned by his opponent and blood was trickling down from the cut at his brow so clearly that you could make it out from the second row seat you found yourself planted in, he somehow managed to turn the tides and capture the boulder of a man in a lock so fierce it made them nearly melt into one pretzel-like being.
As he flexed his arm around the other’s throat with the rest of his limbs restricting him as well and rendering an escape near impossible, Rafe’s eyes then flickered up to catch your wide ones in the crowd. A grin appeared on his features as he held your stare a moment longer, watching as you shyly began to mirror his smile, before he tightened his hold and squeezed till the opponent opted not to bruise his pride and tap out, instead going limp in the grasp.
Once the trophy was in his gloved hand and he’d leapt out of the ring, on his way back towards the locker room, he zigzagged through the cheering crowd and caught onto your arm, dragging you with him as he exited the buzzing hall.
“That was insane,” you heard yourself babble as he pulled you through the corridors down towards the backroom he’d been in prior to the fight, “I mean, I know I went into it kinda blind, but I had no idea it would be like that,” adrenaline still rushed through your veins as he tugged you over the threshold and closed the door behind you, swiftly dropping his trophy to one of the long benches, “sure, it was as insane as I probably imagined, but the way that you moved, the way you slipped in and out like you were made of water or something, I mean, that was beautiful–,” the fighter then suddenly cut your rambling short as he yanked you to his sweaty form and pressed his lips to your own. However, as his feet shuffled and your spine collided with the back of the door to the small locker room, your fingers fluttered over countless of the spots where he’d been hit, causing you to jerk back and ask, “wait, shouldn’t you have someone check you out?” your eyes flickered from the cut splitting his brow to the various fresh bruises already beginning to blossom and reveal their true colours, “are you okay?”
“I’ve never felt better in my whole life,” he tried to lean back in to capture your lips once more, though you tilted away just in time for him to miss.
“You sure? Because–”
But your words were quickly snuffed out as his hands then flew up to grasp the sides of your face to force you to notice the glint in his eye and the desire dripping in his tone, “just shut up and kiss me,” he commanded before he practically devoured you whole.
As Rafe’s tongue danced against your own and made you feel dizzy in his tight embrace, his fingers then blindly fumbled for the lock and twisted it with a click that harmonised with the throbbing that had appeared between your thighs as soon as the fight had commenced.
A low growl rumbled deep within his chest and melted into your mouth as he then plucked you off of the ground and lifted you into his arms. Broad palms spreading wide below your bottom, he brought you as close as possible, causing the skirt you wore to ride up and crumble at your hips. The thin barrier of your pantyhose and the underwear beneath nearly incinerated from the heat that sparked as his hips greedily rocked against your covered core, lending you to feel just how hard he was in his shorts.
“I want you so bad,” he groaned between pecks, his fingers digging into your softness.
“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your victory or something?” a light giggle bubbled out of you.
“I thought that was what I was doing,” he smirked before dropping you back down onto the ground, making you gasp at his sharp movements as he suddenly spun you around to face the closed door, “unless you have a better idea of how we could celebrate,” he nipped at your neck, making your eyes flutter.
“I–…” your teeth briefly captured your bottom lip as his front pressed against your back, and your spine instinctively arched back into him, “no, yeah, this one’s g-good…”
“Good,” he murmured in your ear before his fingers found your pantyhose in a pinch and ripped a big hole in them, nearly splitting them in two as he exposed your underwear, “do you want it?” he gripped your hips and titled them for his hard-on to perfectly nudge against the soaked cotton.
“Y-yes,” you panted, even just that one word haven been a struggle to utter through the fog he’d cast you into.
“How bad?”
“So bad–, Rafe, please,” he made you squeak desperately, “I just–, please…”
Cheek smooshed against the door, you glanced over your shoulder and watched as he then kneeled down behind you. Both hands still firmly planted on your hips, keeping you in place for him, they only strayed for a moment in order to shove your skirt the rest of the way up and letting him see the wet spot decorating your panties.
“Oh, shit…” he groaned as he tugged the gusset of your underwear all the way to the side, a string of your glossy want clung to the fabric till it snapped back against your aching core. Nearly salivating as he inspected your holes, his fingers dented your ass as he pulled you apart, splitting you open that much further and watching intently at the way your drooling cunt throbbed in anticipation for his touch.
As if your pussy’s embarrassingly leaky state wasn’t enough, a dollop of his spit then roughly landed upon your folds, the lewdness causing you to let out a moan as he swiftly rose back up to his full height without as much as a tickle to your tingly petals.
The next thing you knew, the adrenaline coursing through you both drove Rafe to free his length from its confines and, without as much as another kiss, slammed inside of your weeping pussy in one fell motion.
Balls nuzzled tightly against you, the very tip of him nudged against a part so deep inside of you that it made you lose your breath as he took a moment to savour the sensation, freezing up within you and huffing against your cheek as you gasped for air through your whimpers.
“Oh my god!” one of your hands curled back to crawl at his waist, “Rafe!”
“Now,” his hips slowly drew back, dragging his fat girth back out of you and letting you feel every little detail of him, “you just gotta be a good girl, stand right here for me,” only the bulbous head of his cock remained, keeping you plugged up as he purred in your ear, “and take it like the perfect little prize you are,” he then buried himself once more with such vigour that his heavy sack tapped sloppily against your puffy clit, “can you do that for me? Will you be my reward?”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#mma!rafe#mma!rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfic#drew starkey smut#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron au
2K notes
·
View notes