#I refused to do things so often and sucked at the things I did actually do so much

[liebelesbe]

oh man. gym class...

[mammonsrockstargf]

Hey perse! I just discovered your blog and I really like your works! The sleepy MC was super relatable, and I was wondering if you could write some HCs about insomniac MC? It’s rough out here 🥱 looking forward to what you write next :D

AAAA THANK YOU I’M SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY STUFF!! <333 Sorry to hear you’re struggling, insomnia literally sucks so hard. D:<

Hope I did your request justice, here you go~

Insomnia sucks, but do not dread! Demons do not need as much sleep as humans, which means they can devote plenty of time to helping you fall asleep instead!

The first thing Lucifer notices is the delayed reflexes and clumsiness. He originally thinks it’s just because you’re a human. Then he notices that you're quite frustrated with it which confuses him, because if that's the standard for humans then surely you'd be used to it, right? Still, he decides to observe you for a little while, before he confronts you.

It all collides one morning, when you drop your cup of coffee and burn your wrist, causing you to wince. Lucifer is immediately there, tending to you. "Are you hurt? Do you need ice on it?" You pull your hand to yourself and bite your lip, frustrated with it all. "I'm fine," you say, but now that he's close to you he finally notices the bags around your eyes. "Why do you look so tired?" he asks. You blink at him, baffled by his bluntness. "Just haven't been sleeping right," you eventually answer.

He immediately brainstorms how he can fix it. Do you need a new bed? Another pillow? Is the temperature in your room alright? He's very attentive after that and always assures you that the door to his office is open whenever you can't sleep.

Mammon notices that you have a hard time paying attention or focusing. You seem to doze off and stare into space often. He'll wave his hands in front of you. "Hey, human, you payin' attention?" he'll say and pout at you. He's such a whiner when your full attention isn't on him. "Sorry, Mams, I'm just tired," you say. "Yeah? Feel free to come to my room if you can't sleep," he'll offer an wink, despite his cheeks heating up.

He honestly doesn't expect you to take him up on his offer until he hears your soft knocking on his door. He immediately stumbles out of bed and throws his door open, grinning widely. When he catches your dissatisfied sleepy face, he tries to hold back a bit on his delight, obviously your discomfort is not a good thing, but he can't help being ecstatic that you're actually in his bed.

Leviathan notices because you always stay up really late with him to play video games. Don’t get him wrong, he likes playing with you, like a lot, but whenever he suggests going to bed, you always refuse. “One more game, please, Levi?” Come on, how can he say no to you? It’s just that one game always turns into three and the next thing he knows you’ve played for another hour.

One day he gathers up enough courage to ask you why and when you tell him you can’t fall asleep he immediately softens up. “Well, I, uh, so do you want to, maybe, I don’t know, sleep here?” His face is flushed but he insists that maybe it’ll be easier for you to sleep in the tub instead of your bed. You do sleep better that night, but it's not because of the tub, it's more because of Levi's calming breath and the slow heaving of his chest when he sleeps. After that, you often stay the night when you've played video games together and on the nights you have a particularly hard time falling asleep, you just lay there and listen to him sleep.

Satan reads for you until you fall asleep. He doesn't care how long it takes, he'll let you lay on his chest, while he reads for literal hours and he doesn't stop until he's absolutely sure that you're sleeping.

Like with sleepy MC, he'll begin to research why you can't sleep. He'll ask you if you're feeling stressed, offer to do your homework or if he needs to tell Lucifer to give you fewer chores. If he catches you drinking coffee or energy drinks, he'll tell you that those can actually worsen your sleep quality.

It gets to a point were you have to tell him that he's being kinda annoying about it. He'll frown and apologize. "I was just trying to help but I see that I might have overstepped." He's being dramatic here. Give him a couple of kisses and he's back at it again.

Whenever you wake too early in the morning and simply cannot lay in bed any longer Asmodeus is the one you go to. He's always up early, doing his skincare routine. He lets you sit in his bed, wrapped up in blankets, all bleary-eyed and with messy hair, while he’ll sit by his vanity. He thinks you look absolutely lovely, so sleepy and he'll look at you through the mirror, fighting the urge to smile and accidentally ruin his make-up.

Once he's done, he'll bring you to his chair and offer to do your skincare or makeup if you wear that. He'll take extra care, messaging your skin and shoulders. The sensation sometimes almost lulls you back to sleep.

Beelzebub absolutely hates it when you're cranky or depressed. "What's wrong?" he'll ask and when you tell him it's just because you didn't get any sleep, he gets quite confused. Humans get cranky if they don't get enough sleep? That seems awfully inconvenient...

I like to think that Beel is one of the best cuddlers of the brothers. He just has that build you know? He'll spoon you, wrap his arm around your waist and press kisses to your hair. If you ask, he'll tell you stories about his brothers, slowly lowering his voice to a point where it's just a low whisper. He waits till your breathing slows and he knows you're asleep. Then he'll kiss your head good night and go to sleep himself.

When you tell Belphegor that you have trouble sleeping, he doesn’t really understand you. What do you mean you can’t sleep? But you’re tired? Just go to bed?

Honestly, he’s kind of annoying about it but when he realizes that you genuinely just cannot sleep he apologizes. I don’t remember if this is ever addressed in the game, but I like to think that being around Belphegor actually makes humans kind of sleepy and because of that, naps are really nice with him because you actually manage to get some proper sleep.

Sometimes, Belphie and Beel team up and you all sleep together in the attic. You'll have Belphie facing you, face hidden in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you tightly. Then you'll have Beel behind you, an arm thrown over the both of you. It's the perfect combo, that helps you actually sleep through the night.

thank you for reading! <3 find my other stuff here.

All graphic dividers are by @/cafekitsune

[pedge-page]

Mother Who Indulges

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Joel’s found other means to get his favorite snack. But he’s bad at hiding the evidence taking form on his own body.

Can be read as sequel to Mother Who Provides or on its own.

Warnings: Fat!Joel, Sub! Joel, breastfeeding, lactation kink, feedee/feeder, burping, belly worship, belly button licking, gluttony, riding, vaginial fingering, m! Masturbation, forced feeding, hands free ejaculation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pie, switch dynamic at the end, Mommy and brief Daddy kink, nipple play for Joel, derogatory names such as cow or hog (towards Joel)

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Your husband was never a closet eater. 

Joel was someone who enjoyed food in the company of others. Never saw it as anything more than fuel for the body, only ate when he needed it. Sure, he wouldn’t turn down a soda and a bag of chips every blue moon, but the amount of physical labor he does at his job always combats any minimal amount of snacking he does. He’s always been in perfect, lovable shape. Not shredded abs by any means, but he had just the right strength to carry you bridal style, just the right softness to cuddle up against him like a warm pillow.

Or at least, he used to.

You started to notice it after the 6 month mark of brining your baby home. As you very slowly lost a few pounds of post partum weight, Joel seemingly started to gain them—a couple dozen of them. And it was … odd. 

He didn’t go out to eat—the man preferred a home cook meal and saving a few bucks where he could. There also weren’t any suspicious amounts of extra processed snacks coming into the house. And it’s not like Joel was slacking off on the construction site by any means. And yet, you noticed it when he started huffing just to get his once baggy jeans over his thickened belly. Or the way his shirts stretched a little tighter over his chest. Or the extra grunts after any regular amount of food. 

The only real change was that 10-month old Sarah had started refusing pre-bagged bottle milk. The little thing ONLY wanted mama’s nana’s straight from the tap. And that meant Joel’s little breastfeeding habits had to go on pause so that your baby would actually eat.

“Picky little thing,” he grumbled with folded arms as your baby sucked away happily at your breasts, all wrapped up snugly in your arms. You could see the distain in his face—the idea that Sarah was no longer going to “share” your perky tits and even more delectable breastmilk. You were a full blown cow utter live and on demand when Sarah needed it.

You only laugh. “It’s all meant for the baby anyway. Besides, you got more than enough fill, right?”

He didn’t exactly answer you that night. Just grunted and walked away. You thought that was the end of it.

Until one night: half asleep and feeling an incredibly soreness in your breasts. It felt hot, wet, and heavy like a sack of potatoes sitting atop your chest, with a leach on the end of it. Though, you did notice they gradually felt lighter, which is strange. You always filled with milk over night. Groaning, your nipples felt twisty, sore as hell. Groggily you reach under the covers—God, why are they so hard and big? I can’t even feel it … oh, oh no. why it is hairy? And there’s growling coming from below.

 Panic ensures, fear that you’re turning into some hairy wolf beast stuck in a dream, becoming misshaped and hideous and—

You wake up fully and toss the covers off, revealing your husband who’s latched on to your tit, suckling the milk like in second heaven.

You stare down at him disappointingly. Joel only just realizes he’s been caught, your nip falling from his mouth with suctioned pop, as cream pours from his lips. Caught red handed.

“Um….sorry. Was hungry.”

You wack his head hard several times, enunciating, “That-is-for-the-baby!”

“Okay okay!”

“Do you do this often when I’m asleep?”

Joel shifts up slightly, staring down at your teeth ridden mounds. He clears his throat guiltily. “…No...”

He got an earful, and you were careful to make sure he didn’t try sneaking Sarah’s breakfast off of you in the early morning again. 

And that seemed like the end of it. He never brought it up or complained again.

And yet, the man was still gaining weight like nobody’s business…

-

Joel doesn’t like sneaking around his wife. 

Realistically, he should have been losing weight, what with the extra snack of your milk each night he could enjoy now entirely off the menu. He should have not been too indulgent either, as you may have noticed his... physical difference. In fact, he was surprised it didn’t really dawn on you, where all those extra pounds on your hubby are coming from.

Joel tiptoes down to the kitchen in the late night, far after you’re lightly snoring. He makes sure not to hit the pressure sensitive creaky floorboards too. Honestly, even with the extra weight, he’s pretty good at slinky-ing around. 

But his eagerness is getting the best of him. Rumbling through his body despite the slowness in his pace. He waits all day for this moment and can’t rush it now.

He cracks open the fridge, the light illuminating the dark kitchen as he briefly scans behind him again for any signs of movement. When the area is secure, he turn back. He’s so excited, goosebumps riveting his skin. Bubbles gurgling in his stomach. He’s become gluttonous, no doubt. But when you get that high, it’s hard to just quit cold turkey. 

Reaching behind the beer bottles, carefully laid under a foil wrap of steak, is his most prized possession of the late night endeavors: that extra sum of frozen baggies of your breastmilk in the freezer that you gracious kept saved and that his even more gracious baby now refuses to drink. To his luck, you must have mentally completely forgotten about them. He always pulls three each night and lets them thaw in their hidden place in the refrigerator, waiting all day for this exact moment.

His obtuse stomach rumbles. Joel typically wears a buttoned sleep shirt as of late since it was the only thing that fit him to bed. But now the bottom few buttons had torn off, leaving his fat gut rounded and hanging out. 

The hungry man licks his lips as he tears open the first buoyant bag of cream, his lips quivering when that first scent hits his nose. “Ah—oh fuck yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he groans, but quickly softens his voice again, remembering he can’t get caught on his indulgence.

He hastily dips a fat finger into the milk and swirls it before pushing past his lips. Joel closes his eyes, humming loudly as the taste of your fine breastmilk invade his buds, travel through his electrical signals to his brain that then releases pleasure throughout his entire body. He moans around his digit, sucking every little drop until he’s close to gnawing his finger off. Then he releases with a pop and grins, dipping two more fingers and scooping it out messily. Tilting back to drink the second helping. It drips down his palm, and he’s quick to suckle it up. None can be wasted.

He suppresses a slight burp. His large stomach screaming for more, for what he came he for. Joel tilts the baggie back over his head, leaning back and drinks the entire contents. Audible gulp after gulp, the sweet taste of milk fills his tongue and travels to his happy belly. All while his other wondering hand roams over the thick, stretched flesh, right over his belly button, jiggling the heavy underside of lard. God he feels so good like this. Getting gorged out on your milk, feeling so full and fulfilled from it. 

He wags the bag once the last few drops are struggling to pour, sticking his tongue out like a dog. Heat spreads from his core down to his loins. Joel grips his hardened length over his soft pj shorts. He can’t help it. He once had prime seat to your lap, drinking straight from your tits whenever he felt like it while you jerked him off. Now reduced to palming his hard-on while lapping at your bagged milk by himself in the dark late of night.

 The first bag never lasts. He makes sure to lick any remnant on his lips, squeezing his belly and groan with a pathetic whimper. He needs more. He always needs more. Thankfully there are two more bags for tonight, but fuck he could drink 300 right now and still never be full. 

His shirt stretches tightly over his chest, and he decides to unbutton the top few stained buttons. His puffy chest bursts through the fabric like a damn. Now fully free, the silk material hanging forgotten and obscured by his massive figure, Joel can now take more enjoyment out of tearing into the next bag and downing it even faster than the first.

He huffs out, breathing for the first time after slurping the entire bag in one go. Rubbing faster up and down his stiff cock. Shit, he’s gonna cum. Feels so euphoric having his tip bump against the lower hang of his pooch. The fat tip meeting his even fatter tummy. 

And your taste. That’s what sends him over every night. Has him cumming in his sleep shorts by the time he’s finished the third bag. Joel grunts, lifting his stomach from the underside so his other hand can palm his swollen dick. “Momma’s got the best milk,” he hums to himself, eyes closed in bliss. “Oh fuck fuck fuck, fuck yeah, I’m—I’m gonna—!”

“So!”

Joel swings around, crashing his body into the open refrigerator door, spilling his precious milk all over his tits and belly. Only to be met with you, your arms folded over your  chest, spaghetti silk nightgown adorning your figure and a knowing smirk on your face.

“So this is where you’ve been getting your little extra snacks.”

He’s speechless, caught and cornered with no where to go. His mouth opens, but no words leave, like a gaping fish out of water.

“Nothing to say, Joel?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“I—its—“ he casts down at his belly sadly. God, he looks pathetic now. Cock rock hard and stabbing through his pants, and belly flush out like a pig at a buffet. You must think he’s disgusting like this. “I…I missed your milk, baby,” he says solemnly. “Got carried away, I guess.” 

Instead of the scolding he expects, you walk up to him quietly and bring his eyes to yours. Taking the bag of half drank breastmilk, he acquiesces and lets you. 

To his surprise, you hold it up slightly to mouth level for him. “Looks like you’re not finished yet, honey.” 

Joel stares at you, confused. But when you start palming his erection, gliding your hand up and around his belly with a swirling ticklish finger before brushing back down to his dick, he doesn’t have any braincells left. You push the bag forward and his jaw drops open once again, feeding him. With you at the control, he gulps quickly, afraid to lose any as you pour the entire contents at once. He sputters a moment when the bag is empty, too caught up on the pleasurable heat spreading in his crotch and core again. You kiss his lips, the sweet taste making you realize how difficult it must have been for him to give something so delightful up.

“Mmmm, that’s better?”

“Ah—oh—oh-yeah-so good baby-shit-“ he groans as you continue your ministrations on his member. With two hands, you hoist the underside of his enlarged middle, bouncing it up and down. 

“Oh, Joel,” you tsk. “So light. So empty! We’re not done yet big boy. Not even close.”

-

 They say there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing.

But as for Joel, stripped naked and sitting his fat ass on the couch, gorging on the funneled tube that’s been cascading a mix of whole and breastmilk into his stomach, he can confidently say that saying doesn’t apply here.

His finishes a big gulp before pulling the nozzle away, letting out a massive burp. As he grips the side of his belly, the rolls on his side multiplying before his vary eyes and skin stretching like a taught balloon, he’s never felt so full in his life. 

And it feels fucking amazing. 

He’s never felt so guilt-free, so perfectly enlightened and fully allowing himself to feel pleasure like to this level. 

“You full yet?” You coo. You’re standing next to him by the cough, a gallon of mixed milk partially full in one hand as you check on your gluttonous husband.

He shakes his head, devious and energized. “Hit me again, baby!” He puts the nozzle back in his mouth and rests the back of his head on the couch headrest again.

You chuckle but does as he says, pouring the jug into the large funnel. He can’t wait fast enough for the milk to force its way through the tube and finally squirts onto his tongue again.

“That’s my good boy. Mommy loves filling you up with her milk. No need to hide it from me any more baby. You keep drinking and drinking until you’re full.”

With one hand splayed over his belly button, physically feeling his gut fill past its maximum, he gets a quick glance at you. The way you giddily grin, eyeing him up and down in his fattened state like a delicious piece of steak. He’s never felt so sexy in his life.

His cock feels it too. Reddened and swollen beyond belief. curved against the swell of his belly leaving a sticky trail where his precum keeps nudging along. Though, with how much he’s packing into his stomach, he’s struggling more and more to be able to fully grasp his cock and jerk it with the mean pumps he usually does. Joel was the type of masturbator to grip his base with one hand while the other beats his meat like a car engine. His arms still retained their muscled strength, but everywhere else was starting to fill in. Now, he can only get one hand down there to gently tug on it. 

“Poor baby, got you so fat you can basely touch that little dick?” You tease. Though at the sheer size of him, Joel Miller’s cock is anything but ‘little.’ In fact, it’s even more imposing now, like somehow he added a few extra pounds onto his mini me as well to keep the proportions the same. 

“S’not little. I can—oh fuck—still reach jus’ fine.”

Another burp billows up his throat, and he just gets the tube out of his mouth to let it out. Hell, he can barely move. The amount of effort just to sit upright again makes him bounce his whole body, the fat moving at a slower pace. Fuck, even when he can’t fully jerk his cock like he used to, the pressure of his belly on top of his tip, smushing his balls into the couch feels heavenly. Especially when he bounces and rocks back and forth slightly. Friction doing its thing and grinding his sack between his big thighs. 

“Baby,” he gasps. “M so full of you.” He peers up to you with heart, drunken full pupils as he jiggles his belly. “M’ so packed tight. So much Mommy’s milk.” One finger trails up the fold under his pec, now swollen like a breast himself, before pinching and rolling his nips between his calloused fingers.

“Yeah? Let Mommy feel.” You press your palm over his chest, down to his belly that protrudes so far out. Despite being squishy earlier this night, his stomach is indeed bursting to its limit. Hardened just as yours was right before giving birth. 

“Aww, oh Joel…” you squeeze your thumb into his belly button and grip the lower half before jiggling it roughly. He gasps and pushes him belly out further for you, rocking his hips best he can into the air. “You really are full baby, huh? Greedy greedy piggy.”

“Mhm,” he hums with a pout, licking his lips. “Momma’s fat fuckin’ gluttonous hog. ‘At’s me.”

You prop the funnel up on a coat hook before sliding down to your knees in front of your husband. He leans as far forward as possible to be able to see all over you between his chunky legs, parted to let you breathe against his tummy that’s right up against your face.

You gently caress his sides along the rounded shape, holding his middle in your hands. You’re so soft against him, so loving and careful. He feels no different right now than when he used to be able to lie on your lap and feed from your tit. It’s been so long since then, and he realizes now this is the feeling he’d been chasing bag after bag all this time.

Your soft cheek presses into his skin there, making him sigh relaxed. 

He’s getting lost in the feeling of you on him, but you need to keep him on track.

“Keep drinking. You’ve got 2 more gallons.” You point towards the table where more mixed milk sits, and Joel settles up and begins gulping his cream again.

He moans, cock twitching against your chest as your tongue swirls around his belly button, dipping inside slightly. The hairs around his happy trail feel soft as you stroke along his naval. You can hear the little sloshing of liquid inside him each time you plant a wet kiss against his skin, making out with his gorged stomach. 

The weeping end of his length bobs painfully each time you brush it. You notice he’s glancing down at you playing with him, while he continues to swallow big batches down his throat. “You want me to take care of your little problem?”

He nods pitifully. 

“Not until you’re done.” You smile, standing up and gripping his belly harshly. He grunts but doesn’t release the bottled end, sucking more milk as you slap his belly repeatedly. Watching it wobble from the sheer effort and taking a moment to settle before you slap it again. Each time he whimpers but pushes it out more, asking for another.

“Greedy“—slap—“fat“—slap—“Milk hungry“—slap—“whore.”

You squeeze his plush tit, no bigger than an A cup but still, the man had nothing there before. He grunts and eyes you, dark and pleading. “Holy fuck, You’ve even got such cute cow titties Joel.” You giggle, rolling his perked nipples under you thumb while cupping the rest of the fat pooling there. “Wouldn’t that be something? Squeezing milk from your own tits?” You place your mouth on his pecs and begin suckling like the tip of his cock. Joel tosses his head back, milk spilling from his cheeks as he howls in pleasure. 

“Oh fuck Momma that’s it—keep sucking my fat tits—christ. Fuck—fuckFUCK!” One hand caresses your hair as he whines, “I Love you.”

“I love you too. How are we doing?” You gesture to the funnel.

He tilts it upside down. “All out,” he says with a grimace.

“Good. On your knees.”

You grab his chubby hands and hoist him up, the two of you laughing when he fails after the first attempt.

When he does get to his feet, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him. “You look so fucking sexy, Joel Miller.” 

You brush his fingers under your thigh, between your slit. “Oh—shit—so fuckin’ wet,” he whispers, rubbing your slicked walls with his meaty fingers.

 Pressing your cunt against his crotch, your belly collides with his, creating the perfect friction on your clit. “I want you bigger than me when you knock me up with twins next.”

He grits his teeth and hisses against your lips. The mental image doing a whirlwind on him. You chuck two pillows to the ground for him comfort. With a big thud, he gets to one knee on the plush, then the other, arms flailing forward and hands plastered on the ground to hold his weight. His belly sags so heavily, causing him to groan. the compressed tip is damn near toughing the floorboards even as he holds cow position. 

He stares up back up at you, soft big moo moo eyes getting eager when you grab the funnel and uncap another jug.

 He used to marvel at how much pregnancy changed you. At how he changed you. Your body growing round with child, a child he put inside you, and then your tits swelling up with milk, all because of him.

And now he’s changing physically because of you too. His body filling with fat, engorged from your abundant lactation that you’re feeding him.

He sticks his tongue out without a single word, sucking in the nozzle and guzzling the milk funneling through again. 

He downs this one fast and hard, pushing away with a big sigh. “Christ, I can’t do it. MN’gonna fuckin’ explode.”

You crouch down to see his convex stomach. It’s perfectly rounded and bulging like a moon. 

He shivers when you cup the underside and glide up along, feeling how smoothed over from so much filling him. “Touch it, please touch it baby. Gonna go crazy if ya don’t.”

You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, his swaying back and forth like he’s trying to get his belly to hump his dick, or maybe the other way around. He’s helpless in this position by his own doing. 

“Aww, has my big boy had enough? No more Mommy’s milk?”

He shakes his head painfully. “More,” he croaks. God, his body is screaming no. he’s never felt so ready to turn into an atom bomb, and yet his intoxicated brain knows if he can’t down the last of this gallon, you’ll never give him the full on tap again.

Joel snatches the tunnel again, balancing on one hand briefly as he wraps his tongue around and drinks yet again. Gulp after gulp, the sweet liquid bulges in his esophagus before traveling down to his mighty belly. You kiss his cheek and hold the nozzle to his face, forcing it to stay. “Almost there, Joel, drink it to the last drop, and then you’ll get your reward…” you not so subtly squeeze your breasts together, and that does it for him.

He spits out the nozzle and falls head first to the ground, back arched as much as possible as his tummy smushes into the hardwood. With a howl, his hips jerk forward into his fat middle, suffocating the tip and he starts cumming untouched. “Oh-ah-ahaugghhh-yeah—yeah!” He hums, cheek pressed into the ground and drool and milk spilling from those sinful lips along with a litany of sexy, satisfied noises. 

All the while you praise him with kisses and gentle curls of his hair, telling him how good he’s been for you. The funnel rolls around the floor, having been drained into Joel’s gut just a moment before he gave in. 

And you’d think he was done, out for the count, needing a fat coma nap. Instead, just as you help him up to his bum, Joel snatches your waist. “Get on my lap Momma,” he slurs, licking his lips once again. You half climb, half are hoisted up to his lap, his cream coated cock still raging hard and sitting between the two of you. “Show me what those bouncing titties can do. “He slaps your breasts with little slapslapslaps. The tight grip he has on your hips forces you to begin rolling, your neglected cunt beautifully nudged against his sack with his belly and cock brushing your clit.

“Hop on Pop,” he chuckles. 

Gripping one of his shoulders, you align his cock along your soaked folds and sink down on him, the two of you sighing heavily. His sticky cum coated length needed no prep to enter you, filling your womb to the brim with his Daddy sized dick. “Gonna pump you full now, little Momma. Gonna get ya bred in no time.” Joel dips his head down and latches your tit between his jaws.

You gasp and grip his hair as he begins suckling out your warm breastmilk. It’s like all this time, he wasn’t truly even full. Like he had a separate storage in this lard living planet between you just for your hot fresh pure milk. 

“J-Joel,” you moan, eyes rolling. He’s always been good at sex. Always had a great body, but this…this is different. You can feel all of him pressing against you. Burrying your nub and hitting it so deliciously from the outside as he pummels you from the inside. You fee like a little doll, being used like a flashlight up and down along his thick cock

“That’s it, Mommy, ride me. Ride my fat cock. Ride it till ya swollen here—“ he pokes at your stomach “—as big as mine, like ya said.” You grin, biting your teeth. “B-bigger.”

He smiles. “Bigger.” His beefy hands wrap around your back and pull you as close to him as you can physically manage. “Let Daddy do all the work on that one. Just gotta take my cream, at’s all. I drink yours—n’ you take mine.”

“Mmfff--fuck—fuckyes Daddy fill me up—fill me with your cream! Ah! oh shit I’m cumming! Make me a Mommy again!”

You spasm, convulsing around Joel’s base just as he stills and ruts his second load inside you, grunting into your tits like a pained beast. You feel each pulse overwhelming your walls, yet having nowhere else to go but inside. The man has never cum so much in a second orgasm in his life, and you start to wonder if any of this is your own milk having traveled to his balls and deposited safely inside you again.

As the two of you come down, breathing in and holding one another tightly, Joel pecks at your jaw with feather kisses.

“You know…I won’t be lactating forever.” You twirl some of his curly brown hair out of his sweaty temple. “It’s going to end eventually.”

He only shrugs. 

Gasping as his dick twitches to life inside you once again, he presses his lips to yours and begins shallowly thrusting again. “Guess I’m just gonna have to keep knocking you up.”

- - - -

Notes: I have plans for more Fat!Joel content in a variety of flavors...not just subby and breastfeeding. Will be different characters and have other independent requests so stay tuned!

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[vivwritesfics]

angsty to fluff lando fic of reader getting insecure about herself and comparing herself to his ex gf and he reassures her🙏🙏

Y/N looked in the mirror. She was pretty, undeniably so, but she didn't see it that way. She turned from side to side, her phone open on Instagram on the floor in front of her.

She didn't follow her boyfriends ex, but, because of her likes, she came up as suggested. Y/N couldn't help but compare herself.

She wasn't like Lando's ex girlfriend. And it made her wonder. Why did he fall for her when his last girlfriend was so different? And how long until he realised this and went searching for something else?

The front door went, jolting Y/N away from her thoughts. Lando was home. Her boyfriend was home.

It was rare that Y/N let her thoughts get to her like this. But, when did did, Lando could always tell. She became quieter, more closed off. It was a repeating cycle, where Y/N would become closed off and Lando would give her time. But then he'd realise he misses his girlfriend so he'd wrap her in his arms and kiss her all over her face until she started giggling.

Yeah, Lando knew how to deal with this better than anybody. Of course, he didn't know why Y/N retreated into herself. He'd asked, sure, but she wouldn't tell him.

But things would quickly go back to normal. Using nothing but how much he loved her, Lando could get Y/N back to her usual smiling, giggling self.

But was happening more and more often.

It wasn't angering Lando, every time he came home and his girlfriend refused to meet his eye. No, it was worrying him. He just wanted her to be happy. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

Lando didn't know how he was going it. When Y/N wouldn't tell him, it was going to be incredibly difficult. But then, when Y/N went to the bathroom. She left her phone on the bed, screen unlocked on Instagram.

Lando picked up the phone. He wasn't trying to snoop, really. It was out of concern.

And then he saw it, the picture of his ex girlfriend up on Y/N's phone. What the hell?

Lando set off to the bathroom. He knocked on the door before pushing it open. "Lan, do you mind?" Y/N asked.

"Of course not."

No, Lando didn't mind. They'd been in the bathroom together a thousand times before. "Baby, what is this?" He asked as he leaned against the window ledge.

He turned the phone towards her and Y/N suddenly snatched it away from him. "That's my private business," she mumbled, locking the screen.

"Baby, come on. Just tell me what's going on, please," he begged, grabbing a hold of her hands. "I'm worried out you."

Suddenly, Y/N sobbed. She let out a sob, her head falling forward.

Lando let her finish up and met her back in the bedroom, the tear tracks still on her face. "Okay," she said with a shaky breath as she sat on the bed beside Lando.

"Okay?" He had to repeat when she said nothing more.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath. "I... am insecure. I'm really insecure, actually." It was weird to finally admit. After months of the odd spiral here or there, It was strange to finally get off her chest,

"But you have nothing to be insecure of," Lando said.

"But I do, Lan. I keep seeing the pictures of your ex and I can't help but wonder why you're with me." That bit she said quiet. It was embarrassing to admit that she let somebody else make her feel this way.

"No, baby, you don't," Lando insisted. "I love you, right?" He said and waited for her to nod her head. "And I love you for a reason, right?" Again, he waited for her to nod. "And you know there's a reason that I'm not with her again, right?"

Yeah, Y/N knew. There was a reason he and her broke up, she knew.

"And if I thought there was a reason I didn't want to be with you, I wouldn't, right?"

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Y/N punched his arm and Lando grabbed a hold of her, pulling her close. He wrestled her into a cuddling position and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, you muppet. Got that?"

"Got it."

[mykneeshurt]

Wrath

Title picture by @loneghostwolf

Soap x AFAB!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, p in v, m oral receiving, f oral receiving, unprotected sex, rough sex, breath play, praise kink, spit kink, hate sex, allusions to cock warming

I apologise for cheesey lines in this lmfao again not proofread because I’m so tired

John McTavish.

Johnny.

Fucking Soap.

An absolute thorn in your side since your first day with 141. Fast forward 8 months and the team had grown tired of your constant bickering and arguing. Every little situation, every single thing you did he had to make a comment. The bickering normally ended with you shouting ‘suck my dick Soap!’

Then came the constant comments. The constant jokes, it wore you down so fast. There were times when you did actually get on but they were few and far between. Gaz and Ghost often joked you needed to fuck to release the tension. They were met with middle fingers from each of you, both telling them to ‘fuck off’ in unison. Which naturally spurred them on further. They compared you to an old married couple.

It came to a head after a sparring session one day, you’d been paired with Soap to your utter dismay. ‘Knew you didn’t have it in you to hit me princess’ he chided, a stupid fucking smirk on his face. ‘Don’t call me princess’ you spat, eyes glaring straight through him. ‘Why? You fuckin act like one.’

‘I’m fuckin warning you John.’ He put his hands up in a fake surrender ‘oooh, usin my full name are we hen? Must be in trouble.’

You saw red.

Leaping across the mats your shoulder connected with his chest in an almighty thud. It knocked him to the floor, winding him. You scrambled to your feet and managed to get a lucky kick into his abdomen. He swiped at your legs and sent you flying backwards, you landed straight in your arse letting out a yelp as you landed.

That’s when Price and Ghost intervened. ‘I’ve had a fuckin tit full of you two’ Ghost shouted, he gripped Soap by the scruff of his collar as he pulled him up. Price was more gentle with you but still pissed. ‘In the meeting room. Now.’ Price ordered as he matched you both out of the gym.

They shoved you into the room and Price stared you both down. ‘Now. I don’t care how you resolve this, but fuckin sort it out! You’re both doin my Swede in and I’ve had a fuck full. I don’t wanna see you again till it’s done. Am I understood?’ His face was stern and unforgiving. He meant business.

You both looked at him, feeling like children who’d been scolded by their father. ‘Yes sir’ you replied together, egos bruised, frustrations near boiling point. ‘Good’ he replied simply before shutting the door.

You sat on one of the tables, eyes fixed on the floor refusing to look at him. He stood opposite, leant against the wall, arms crossed, brow furrowed as he glared at you. ‘What’s your fuckin problem?’ He scowled. You shot your head up to look at him ‘my problem?! My fucking problem?! All you do is wind me up and take the piss out of me. How do you think I’m gonna react? By kissing your boots and thanking you? Fuck off.’ Your face was tight, pure unfiltered rage seeping from your skin.

‘Just banter hen’ he shrugged. Dismissive prick. ‘Don’t piss on me and tell me it’s raining John. You’re a dick.’

‘I’m a dick? Talkin some right ol shit there lass. We’re only in here cause o’you!’

‘Because you wouldn’t stop calling me princess, you know I hate it!’

He walked over to you, his feeble attempt to intimidate you. He stood in front of you, arms still crossed, biceps bulging as he lingered there. You glared up at him, mouth pressed into a firm line. ‘Your intimidation tactics don’t work here John. Grow up. You’re nothing but a jumped up nobody from the fuckin slums who got lucky.’ You voice was full of venom, poison seeped from every word.

Gripping your shirt he slammed you backwards onto the desk, panting beneath him you smiled up at him. ‘What’s the matter John? Hit a nerve have I? You know I’m right. You play the jester well, but we all know you’re a pathetic excuse of a man.’ You gripped his hand that was wound within your shirt, you knew you’d gone too far. You knew damn well he was a good solider and one who always had your back on the field. But you were so done with his shit you wanted to hurt him.

He lowered his face to within an inch of yours, his blue eyes a deep void of rage and contempt. His breath fanned over your lips as he desperately tried to regain all control. You offered up a smug grin, chest still heaving, waiting for him to make the next move. He was stood over you, his free hand in a tight fist as he chewed his jaw. Your thighs clenched together ever so gently.

‘What’s the matter Johnny? You look like you wanna hit me or fuck me. Which is it?’

You knew what you wanted.

‘You’re such a fuckin bitch.’

With that his lips came crashing to yours as you flung your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. You nails raked the surface of his scalp as he groaned into your mouth. It was a frenzy of lips, tongue and teeth as you both battled for dominance. Finally letting go of your shirt he cupped your jaw, his calloused thumb pulled at your lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist you could feel his hard cock press against your cunt.

Adrenaline surged through you as your heart collided with your ribs. He dropped a hand and pawed at your breast through your shirt. His rough grip pulled a moan from deep within your chest, causing you to dig you nails into the sensitive part of his neck. He hissed slightly as he moved away from your mouth and nipped your ear, ‘knew you wanted t’fuck me’ he smirked as he bit into your neck.

You jolted your hips up at the sudden pain that radiated along your neck, as you bit your lip. He kissed along your collar bone digging his finger tips into your flesh. He’d wanted this for a long time but was too stubborn to admit it. You pissed him off to no end, your perfect voice and body, your natural intelligence, your beauty riled him up something rotten. But my god now he had you, he was going to make you feel just how much he fucking hated you.

You were going to feel his wrath.

‘Off’ he ordered pulling at your top, sitting up you pulled it over your head causing your breasts to bounce. He watched in awe as your body was revealed to him. You soft supple skin, plump breasts, you were positively glowing. ‘So bossy’ you muttered under your breath. Hoping he hadn’t heard. But he did.

He gripped your waist band and pulled you full force to your knees, you let out a hiss of pain as he freed his cock from his shorts. Your breath hitched in your throat as you finally saw what he was hiding in there. It was slightly bigger than average, a thick vein wrapped its self around the thick shaft. The tip already painfully swollen, pre-cum glistening in the dull light of the room.

Without any warning he forced his cock to the back of your throat, you gripped his thighs trying desperately to breathe through your nose. He placed a hand just underneath your jaw as he fucked your throat, ‘knew I’d find a way to shut you up’ he smirked. Eyes screwed shut as he whimpered against the texture of your mouth. Warm and inviting. You looked up at him from your knees, tears threatening to fall as your throat constricted around him.

Salvia gathered around your lips as you let him brutally bury his cock within you. Slight gagging noises bubbled from within you as you reached up and slid your nails down his abdomen. Leaving pretty pink claw marks against his skin. He finally pulled out allowed you to take in a huge inhale, saliva clung to your chin, warm and thick, mixed with his arousal. You swiped it onto your thumb before licking it back into your mouth. He watched open mouthed and panting.

And just like that? You spat it back onto his cock, working his shaft with your hand. Twisting his hand into your hair he pulled you back to your feet ‘too good sweetheart, haven’t finished with you yet.’ Smirking you pulled him back into a wet kiss, he guided you back to the table as he pulled your shorts down. A rough finger swiped along your clothed slit, your panties saturated with your juices. ‘This wet already? Didn’t know you were such a dirty little bitch.’

Pushing him backwards you slid your own fingers into your pants, the sound of your arousal was music to his ears. ‘You gonna talk all day? Or you gonna eat my pussy Johnny?’ You cocked an eyebrow as you bit your lower lip. Within seconds his face was buried in your cunt, his piercing blue eyes strained as he worked his tongue along your clit. Muffled moans of pleasure vibrated against you as he tried to taste every part of you. Rolling your hips against his face only made him hungrier.

He pushed two fingers into you, stretching your hole as he payed extra attention to your clit. Nibbling, sucking, nipping at the bundle of nerves. Sweet sweet moans filled his ears as you desperately tried to cum, the burn from the stretch adding another layer pure pleasure. He felt you start to clench against his fingers, your moans became more breathless and frequent. Not one to cut this time short he pulled out, eliciting a groan of annoyance from you.

‘Not till I say so’ he chided as he pushed his fingers into your mouth. You hummed as you tasted yourself, ‘I fucking hate you’ you hissed as he removed them. He lined himself up and pushed himself all the way in as he lowered his face to yours. ‘If hatin’ me feels this good then I’m your fucking villain.’

You would have rolled your eyes, but his cock felt so good as the tip dragged along your walls. He gripped your jaw forcing it open as he spat a perfect ball of saliva into your mouth.

You swallowed it eagerly dragging your nails along his back, digging them in, desperate to draw blood. His pace was brutal, there was no regard in his movements. He drove his cock as deep as he could into you, wanting to force every single ounce of pleasure from you. Your back arched off the table as he sucked your neck, desperate to mark you. To claim you. There was only one person who could fuck you like this, and that was him.

‘Fuck, Johnny, don’t stop, please’ you begged. He grunted into the crux of your neck, his breath burning into your skin. Your moans had been replaced by desperate gasps for air. Your bodies rubbed together, slick with sweat, pure unfiltered hate and desire.

With that he pulled out and forcefully slammed you face down onto the table, kicking your legs apart. He pushed back into your cunt, the stretch again taking your by surprise. A wide hand made contact with your ass, a satisfying smack rung out in the meeting room. This time he clawed at your back, you gasped as the sudden pain radiated along your spine. Pushing your hips back into him he let out a low chuckle, ‘woulda fucked you months ago if it knew you were this desperate for it.’

‘Fuck, Johnny’ you moaned as he let a ribbon of spit fall onto your tight hole. He watched as your cunt eagerly took his cock before he pushed his thumb into your ass. The extra hole being filled made you feel deliciously full, reaching between your legs your ran your fingers in small circles. He grunted and sighed behind you, his voice gravelly and low as he chased his orgasm. Peering over your shoulder you flashed him a grin that would make the devil blush.

Snaking his free hand around your neck he pulled you back into him, your head arched onto his broad shoulder. He watched you intently, mouth open, eyes fluttering as you tried your hardest to maintain eye contact. His firm hand wrapped easily around your delicate neck, pressing firmly on your pressure points heightening the already dizzying pleasure. His thrusts became slower, more methodical as he neared his climax.

‘You gonna cum for me?’ He whispered above your lips, grip tightening on your throat. ‘Yesyesyesyesyes’ you said, voice quiet and strained. ‘Atta girl … cum on this cock.’ Your pussy clenched around his cock as you came, a powerful wave of pleasure punched you in the stomach. Your moans muffled. Caught against the pressure in your throat. He placed a strangely tender kiss on your lips as you panted into his mouth.

It was then his face twisted, brows furrowed together as a slight whimper burst from his chest. You felt his cock paint your pussy with his cum, pulsating within you. You stood there for a minute, both too euphoric to come down. You smiled against his lips as he dropped his hand to your waist, pulling you in tighter. ‘Mmm could keep my cock in there all day’ he sighed. Nipping his bottom lip ‘we’ll keep makin me hate you and I might just let you.’

———-

Taglist - @griffmors @luminousbeings-crudematter

My little soap gremlins - @brewed-pangolin @deadbranch @dustlandfairytail

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

something just occurred to me

do neurotypical people experience that whole thing where if there's something unpleasant in your mouth you are physically incapable of swallowing?

like you hear so often that people will just 'suck it up and eat what they're given' and I've never understood that because if I don't like something I actually cannot swallow it no matter how hard I try, it's like my brain just stuck a roadblock in whatever process triggers the swallow response

and then you're stuck with this awful sensory experience in your mouth until you inevitably have to spit it out and people get really upset when you do that

so it always drove me fucking nuts when people got mad that I couldn't eat something, because how am I supposed to eat it when my body won't let me?? how did people not understand that???

and this is the first time I've realised that it might be because that's never happened to them, maybe it isn't a universal experience like I always assumed it was

if you're neurotypical and/or don't experience sensory issues regarding food, has this ever happened to you? has your body refused to listen and kept you from swallowing something you didn't like? I am really genuinely curious to know

[dragonnarrative-writes]

im the anon who sent that gaz ask and omg kyle's interlude was so good!!!!! im just giggling thinking of kyle wondering how much does she know? did she catch on somehow? fuck I have to take her out quick before she finds out how many projects ive finished and the whole time miss new girl is like. wow this guy fucking sucks at his job i want him gone from my hospital >:(

mans thinks shes gonna file a case with a police and she just thinks he's incompetent as shit

I'm so tickled. That's exactly what's happening.

CW: discussions of death and dying, autopsies, medical neglect

There’s something going on on the cardiac floor that you just… can’t quite put your finger on.

This isn’t the first hospital you’ve worked at, but you’re also new to urban healthcare, so you don’t want to rock the boat by being paranoid. But traffic from the cardiac floor is… steady. You’ve read the papers, know the stats like the back of your hand. And the cardiac floor is perfectly in line with expected trends. Every. Month.

There are fluctuations, of course. Plus or minus three to seven lives is nothing remarkable in cardiology. Macabre, maybe, but true. But that’s unnatural. In the seven months you’ve worked here, you’ve seen waves elsewhere in the hospital. The plastics floor had a month with zero deaths followed by a month of a persistent infection sweeping through the otherwise reasonably healthy patients. Oncology has seen a steady decline in patients sent your way, thank goodness. Even emergency and intensive care aren’t as fixedly consistent as the cardiac floor.

When you wonder about it aloud to the director, Dr. Martins just shrugs. “We have a good team up there. Very good at keeping things clean and double and triple checking their work.”

“But if that’s the case, then the number of deaths should be going down,” you point out.

Dennis gives you a rueful smile. “That’s not always how human bodies work, unfortunately. You know that.”

You do know that. Which is why the consistency grates against your nerves. So you decide to do a little digging.

The name that comes up the most often in the chart notes is one Kyle Garrick.

That’s actually not 100% accurate. He’s charting exactly the way he’s supposed to. And no nurse has complete, individual access to patients 24/7. But every dying patient he has access to is… perfect. Their blood work, labs, vitals, prognosis, medication adherence and refusal is almost too-the-letter, textbook precise.

The most obvious answer is that Garrick, and probably a couple of other nurses on the floor, are fudging the numbers.

The idea is infuriating. You hate the way the administrators keep changing medical record systems just as much as the next person, but inaccurate charting is a safety issue. People can, have, and do die because someone writes down the wrong timing for medications or assumes that a patient’s vitals are unchanged. If anything, this is probably worse than that. The fact that everything is so pristine probably means that some patients are just being written off. The nurses might be deciding who gets the excellent care the hospital is known for and who gets neglected.

You stay three hours late investigating the next cardio patient that ends up in your morgue.

After examining the body and reading, rereading, and re-re-re-reading his chart, you find it. A stutter in the dosages of blood thinners, a slightly higher blood pressure reading from someone who isn’t nurse Kyle fucking Garrick. Just enough evidence to have you testing the body with an aspirometer almost too late. And there it is. A fatal air embolism.

You want to scream, but the dead man doesn’t deserve that.

Three weeks later, sipping from your water bottle, someone calls into the office. “Knock knock.”

Dennis practically lights up. “"Good morning, Kyle. Been a bit since you've come to see us. Care for some tea?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. Dr Martins hates unexpected visitors. Then you look over your shoulder, and you understand. Even old queens aren't immune to pretty privilege. The man that’s leaning in the doorway is gorgeous. Maybe its because you work with dead bodies all day, but his eyes and skin seem to glow, even under the fluorescents.

"Can't," the man says, apologetically. "Just dropping someone off."

"Well, at least let me introduce our new nurse!"

The fact that you’re wiping crumbs off of your mouth over a paper plate is the only reason no one sees your face fall when you hear him say, “Nice to meet you. Kyle Garrick.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

The HH cast and heart shaped cookies 3/3

Same deal with the hugging series! Last part unless new characters are added or expanded on! Each character switches between either being gifted cookies or making them with the reader

Tummy hurt :(

Velvette

Rosie

Rosie bakes a lot so theres usually something sweet in the house. Both cannibal friendly and.. non cannibal friendly if you're not a cannibal yourself. So she never expected you to make something for her.. but shes more than happy when you do, in fact shes over the moon. She sings her praises to you between bites, and shes going to make sure everyone knows about your skill! Bonus if you make her cookies that are shaped like actual hearts, like the organ!

Lute

I wrote Velvettes part before lutes, but they're similar in the regard that they're giving orders when they're qualified to be giving directions on baking. She follows the recipe to a T, totally refusing the stray for any flavor changes or substitutes. Though she can't help the smile creeping up on her face when she finally pulls herself back to the moment and sees the hearts you've made for her. She doesnt eat sweets often, she never was much of a sweet tooth but you might just convert her... baking is fun, it's a nice activity for you two to do together that doesnt involve training or sparring or really anything that can leave one sore

Do not let her into the kitchen she will be barking orders at everyone and trying to make everything look as good as possible. Her passion for aesthetics Carrie's over to other facets of life. Shes about to shoot you down for presenting the hearts before she cuts herself mid sentence. You're the only exception, the only person who's allowed to go against her orders and demands. Absolutely loves your baking, so that's a plus. Headcanon that Velvette herself sucks at baking

Carmilla

Shes very precise when making anything, baking included. Sneaking your hearts behind her back is going to be a challenging task.. she already knows you did it, but she still acts surprised when you present them to her. And.. well she is, just a little. She had thought you were making them for yourself or just because.. she cleans a bit of mess from your face while thanking you for thinking about her..

Vox

He HATES baking so you're going to have to do this solo. He doesn't notice you're there for a few seconds because hes so absorbed in his work (and trying to keep tabs on the radio demon..) but when he does he gives you a blank thanks.. then he pauses. Hearts arent really his thing nor is the whole love aesthetic, but you do get a soft chuckle out of him before he shakes his head. It's not a lot, but the fact you took him out of it for a few seconds to just. Appreciate something so small is huge

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

NSFT Alphabet: Frederick Kreiburg

I didn't realize I had a lot of feelings about him until writing this

Warnings: trauma

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Frederick is touch starved without actually knowing it. He knows he appreciates your affection and how you often give him attention with it, but to give it back is different. He does wipe you down, cleaning the mess between your legs and his after takes a second to gather himself. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands, it is sad but probably the only thing of value he sees of himself physically. I know it overused “hands” but as a musician, it is all he has next to his ears. He likes your eyes, your eyes that watch him when he plays. Your eyes stare in wonder as he explains his pieces to you. Your eyes reflect himself and how they see him as him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He is not one for the mess, rather cum on you than in you to wipe it off but there are moments when he gets jealous that he will cum inside of you. He will make sure you feel it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Foot fetish and no it is not sucking toes. It is devotion, slipping your shoes off, massaging them, kissing the top of your foot up to your knee. It is a worship, his complete attention on you, to have you at ease. It is also a big submissive act for him.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Not a lot. Frederick only slept with barely a handful and was not enjoyable for him. It was done because of his position as a wealthy musically talented man, he did what was expected of him— Nothing more.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Frederick is not creative so missionary usually or doggy style when he gets possessive-ish. Not creative.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Frederick is at first serious, too serious. It kinda is intimidating. You make him laugh, help him enjoy the moment and show it this doesn't have to be taken so seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Not much hair, and a little happy trail. He usually shaves it off, it is uncomfortable for him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Frederick can be romantic. But again he is intense and focus; you gotta help him get out of that “automatic” mode.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't, just doesn't see the point or care for it. He has however enjoyed watching you masturbated

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Frederick is not a kinky person, he is vanilla (outside if foot festish). Maybe you can introduce him to some things, but you gotta respect that he might not do those things too. It could overwhelm him

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His bedroom, very private man.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your scent, meaningful conversation, and the debates you have with him about anything.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Voyeurism, Exhibitionist, he really can't do those

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving, can give back but he likes sees you service him 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Average slow then building up to fast.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

No. He refuses, do this properly or not at all.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

No risk, but will experiment with minor cross dressing. Nothing big, just little things that make him look sexy (lingerie or light makeup).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

One or two rounds. Foreplay helps.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No and yes. It makes him have mix feelings until you both try it on each other then he will okay it for special occasions.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

25% unfair. Teases but gives in easily. It depends on his mood though too. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Frederick hates that he is loud, he used to silence himself with others because his moans are loud and not “masculine groaning” enough. With you, he learned you enjoy it and became something he no longer had to hide with you. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Frederick, to me, seems like he was objectified. Being both talented, a man of status, and a Kreiburg; he had to do whatever was expected of man of that time. He has issues with his masculinity because he was both a man with power but yet used like a man with no power. He was heavily sought after by women and often pushed into having sex. It left him with body image issues and a level of disdain towards sex. He only offered it to you as a form of using it over you until you tell him your feelings for him are genuine. He stops having sex with you for a while, learning self love with you. Frederick needs it, he needs someone gentle but strong for him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average, sorry lol 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not high, it low actually 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Depends on if you tire him out lol tbh he sleeps easily and very well because he is safe with you

[reorientation]

zyn anon. sorry to spam your dms, i just have some updates i can't really share elsewhere lmao. only one of my irls know im fucking this boy but she doesn't know it was for nicotine pouches lmao

im not even "exchanging" my "services" for zyns anymore. i didn't like them at all, but id still occasionally ask for a tin or two here and there. to not let it get to his head ☺️. a month and a half later im just doing it for free 😒 he makes jokes now that im not even fucking him for product. and jokes that he got me addicted to him instead. so you were right about me becoming a budding addict for a straight mans cock.

we never had a convo about us being official, but he made it clear early on that he wants to be the only guy fucking me rn. i asked if he sleeps around with other girls, and he said he doesnt need to when im so eager for him. :/. he calls me his girlfriend in front of his roommate and gamer friends, too. but not to people we know mutually.

he's also a lot more affectionate now. we've been on an actual date, it was surprisingly romantic and really sweet, and not just me blowing him in his car. though I did after but that's not the point.

i pretty much dress exclusively femininely outside of our programs unisex uniform, i used run errands in boymode but im not even doing that anymore. i have a chosen name that can be shortened into something kinda feminine sounding so he just calls me that. even in front of classmates who dont know i have a pussy, and one that hes been inside of. and the "nickname" is catching on with our classmates too lol.

z anon. forgot to include the update. sorry, i ramble a lot.

i skipped my last two T shots ☺️ im still waiting on my iud appointment in a few weeks. unfortunately this also means i havent really been letting him inside me as often, since im still really scared of pregnancy especially this early on in this weird situation. i am blowing him a lot though lol. it's a win win for me since being on my knees for him with his cock down my throat is so damn hot, especially when he's kinda fucking my face and pulls my hair during it. but fuck its probably been at least a week since his cocks been in me and i miss it. a lot lol. hes so manly and strong, i miss how feminine i feel when im under him. his body would just inadvertently pin me in place, im painfully aware of how small and feminine i am in comparison to him. how truly heterosexual it all is.

but i cannot trust myself bro like i know even if i insist on him using a condom ill end up asking for him to take it off. if he doesnt outright refuse. and like it's so difficult because that turns me on more. i know ill end up having his dick in me sometime before I get my iud, i just gotta be responsible and power through the demons.

im still dysphoric through this situation, especially since stopping T and the fear of like. the few times hes cum in me before havimg a little more serious consequences. despite taking plan b after each time. but the horny part of my brain has never been happier. whenever i feel like backing out, i send him nudes or text him smth risky just for extra self encouragement. but he's on a camping vacation thing rn with his family, and the service is shit and i miss him 🥺 even outside of sex.

like I want to become his girlfriend, truly. and that would have me become a girl for him. which basically means becoming a girl fulltime. i guess that would actually just be going back to being a girl. all for a straight boy 🤦🏻

its hugely dysphoric but kinda nice, like a part of me hates how he's so much bigger and way more masculine than me without any effort, even outside of us having heterosexual sex. i get so dysphoric that he's taller, bigger, way stronger and just so clearly male. but apparently, i enjoy being a girl for him more than i hate it.

(Previously)

You know, Anon, this is awfully romantic.

I mean, listen to yourself. You got into this as a whore, offering to suck his dick for discounted nicotine pouches, but now you're pining over him, and wanting to be a proper girl so that you can be his girlfriend. You're definitely still a whore, but you're a whore with a heart of gold.

Not a smart whore, though. So scared of pregnancy, but you stopped your T before getting on real birth control, knowing that you can't stop yourself from begging for his bare cock. You're so desperate to be a good girl for him that you're consciously ramping up the risk of having his baby, just so that you can return to full femininity a little sooner.

You know, I got this anon after your last ask:

They're not quite right, in that this first update doesn't include a pregnancy announcement. But it's been a bit since you sent me this, and reading what you sent me, it's not hard to imagine you having already gotten started on the path to being a cute little baby mama to your straight boyfriend.

But even if you haven't... You're never going to be able to forget what this was like, will you? Losing your virginity to a straight man, and so easily losing your identity with it. Being pinned down by him with your legs spread and his bare cock in your pussy. The simple force of a man on top of you, and how simple it was to slip back into womanhood and welcome him in.

[phoxey]

I can't help you.

Bada Lee x fem!reader

CW: hurt/comfort ANGST!!!! Big triggerwarning bc of Selfharm. Please do not read this if you are currently stuggling with (thoughts of) self harming.

AN: I wrote this for an ANON request, which i got a week ago. Sorry anon that im only doing it now, i was really busy. I hope you are okay, Anon. Remember you are so loved.

Bada was your safe place. Has always been. She knew you had been struggling with depression since you were a child, due to trauma from your childhood home. Your father died after a decade of him struggling with substance abuse and depression since you were born. Your mother just told you to suck it up and to not be weak. She refused to get you therapy.

You met Bada in middle school. You immediately became best friends, after she sat down next to you on the first day of school and said: “We are friends now.”

Since then, you two became inseparable. People knew if they invite Bada, you were coming too. You even slept at Bada’s house more often than at your own home. And as soon as both of you graduated you moved in with each other.

The only thing that Bada ever did without you was dancing. Bada called dancing her second greatest love after you. She always ran her choreography drafts by you, to get your feedback. It was her trying to involve you in her passion so you wouldn’t feel left out, and you loved it.

When you were with Bada, the demons in your head were quiet. They only came out whenever you were separated from Bada.

Since Street Woman Fighter 2 began she had spent most of her time at the studio. In the beginning you were fine, since the two of you still texted throughout the day. But the more the season progressed, the shorter her messages became. Bada was just stressed and busy, you knew that. But what if…?

What if she was growing apart from you?

What if she wasn’t busy, but just annoyed by you?

What if she didn’t love you anymore?

What if, she was just holding out with you?

What if she realized that you were just a burden to her?

What if she would be more successful if you weren’t there?

What if she was happier if you weren’t there?

What if she hated you?

You didn’t know how but the next time you opened your eyes again, you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror. The cold bright lights hurting your tired eyes. You barely remembered the past few days. You only remembered sitting in front of your phone praying for a message from her, neither sleeping, nor eating. You could barely recognize yourself in the mirror. Pale and with dark circles around your eyes.

Crying didn’t help letting the darkness out of you body anymore. Neither did journalling. You had tried distracting yourself, but you couldn’t watch more than thirty seconds of a movie before your brain started to run the demons’ voices again. Nothing helped anymore.

Except…

Your eyes briefly fell to your own razor before your eyes shot back up to your reflection. Your eyes pleaded with yourself.

“Please don’t do it… “, you whispered to yourself. “Please, Please…”

You kept begging yourself to not do it, but your hands moved on their own.

When Bada actually did come home that night, she found the entire apartment in darkness, even the shutters were closed. She put down her bag on the kitchen counter and noticed how the state of the kitchen and the unwashed dishes hadn’t changed since she was here a few days ago. She heard sobbing from the bedroom and immediately rushed there. The bedroom was empty as well but the door to the bathroom was opened a crack and the cold, sterile light streamed into the bedroom.

She swung the door open and there you were. Sitting on the tiles, holding your arms, your white shirt now red. You were sobbing but your eyes were dry.

Slowly you looked up at her.

“Babe… what is this? “, Bada asked slowly. Her heart was racing and aching when she saw your arms and the razor next to you on the floor.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I really tried…”, you muttered between sobs.

Bada briefly left the bathroom, and you were afraid that she was leaving you for good now, but just a minute later she returned.

“Wash it with cold water. Rinse it off.”, She said calmly but sternly.

Was she angry with you? She had to be. You obediently did as she said and got up, washing your arms with ice cold water. She bent down and took the razor in the meantime and threw it away. But she watched your every move.

When she saw that you were done, she handed you two bandages. “Wrap those around your arms.”

You did that as well. In silence Bada watched you, but also guided you as you two walked into the bedroom. Gently she sat you down on the bed.

“Wait here.”

Bada went into the bathroom again and closed the door. You sat there in the dark for a while, pulling your knees to your chest.

You wondered if Bada was really angry at you. Would she leave you now? You shouldn’t have put such a burden on her. Why did you do that? Bada was already stressed enough and now you only added to it. Or did you? Did she even care?

You felt the mattress sink in next to you and that snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked at her. Only to meet her intense eyes, which made you immediately look down.

You opened your mouth to say something, but not a sound came out and so you closed it again.

“I don’t hate you.”, she broke the silence.

“Why were you so cold just now?”, you asked softly.

“I read that it’s best to not react too much to self-harm, and for the person to wrap the wounds themselves. Also, I wanted to radiate calmness, for you and for myself too.”, Bada explained.

You nodded. “Ah… makes sense.”

Bada’s gaze softened and out the corner of your eye you saw her turning to you and opening her arms. Slowly you sank into her embrace and hid your face in her chest. Wordless she rubbed your back. The two of you stayed like that for a while. Bada’s heartbeat wasn’t exactly calm, but it soothed you nevertheless.

“Why?”, she whispered into the dark.

“You were gone for so long… and the thoughts got so loud…”, you mumbled ashamed.

“I’m sorry…“

„Don’t be please. Please. It’s my fault. Not yours. You were busy being so great and successful. I love that for you, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“It’s not your fault either.”

“But it is… I promised you that I would never do it again… and here I am.”, you whispered.

Bada was silent for another moment.

“It wasn’t your fault. You are not those evil thoughts. They are there in your head but they don’t define you. Got it?”

You nodded slowly.

“We have to do something against them.”, Bada said then. “I would hate if this or worse happens again. I can’t promise to be with you at all times. And I want you to be safe and happy even when I am gone.”

“I don’t know what to do though…”, you said.

“Go to therapy.“

“What?”

Bada looked at you. Her stern gaze was gone, now her beautiful eyes were sad and filled with tears.

“I can’t help you.”, she said, her voice cracking. “As much as I want to. I see you suffering daily and I hate that, I feel so helpless. And when I am gone, I know you suffer even more. But I can’t change it… it’s my job. So please…”

“Bada, I-… I wouldn’t even know where to start.”, you admitted.

“You don’t have to. I am still by your side. I will help you. I will look with you for therapists, I will call them with you, I will go to them with you.”, she said immediately.

You were silent. In all those years you never looked into getting therapy. The taunting voice of your mother in your head. That you should be strong and get over yourself. You waited for it to come… but today, your mothers voice remained silent. Confused you blinked. The voice had been there just five minutes ago. Why was it silent now?

“Babe? “, Bada pulled you out of your thoughts again.

You met her gentle eyes, her beautiful face, her beautiful soul behind all that. Your heart felt oddly light all of a sudden.

“Okay.”

[pedge-page]

Mother Who Indulges - Joel Miller x F!Reader : Sneak peak

a little late for WIP Wednesday but here's a sneak peak at that Fat!Joel breastfeeding fic I'm working on. Can be read as a sequel to Mother Who Provides or stand alone

18+ ONLY

- - - -

The only real change was that 10-month old Sarah had started refusing pre-bagged bottle milk. The little thing ONLY wanted mama’s nana’s straight from the tap. And that meant Joel’s little breastfeeding habits had to go on pause so that your baby would actually eat.

“Picky little thing,” he grumbled with folded arms as your baby sucked away happily at your breasts, all wrapped up snugly in your arms. You could see the distain in his face—the idea that Sarah was no longer going to “share” your perky tits and even more delectable breastmilk. You were a full blown cow utter live and on demand when Sarah needed it.

You only laugh. “It’s all meant for the baby anyway. Besides, you got more than enough fill, right?”

He didn’t exactly answer you that night. Just grunted and walked away. You thought that was the end of it.

Until one night: half asleep and feeling an incredibly soreness in your breasts. It felt hot, wet, and heavy like a sack of potatoes sitting atop, with a leach on the end of it. Though, you did notice they gradually felt lighter, which is strange. You always filled with milk over night. Groaning, your nipples felt twisty, sore as hell. Groggily you reach over the covers—God, why are they so hard and big? I can’t even feel it … oh, oh no. why it is hairy? And there’s growling coming from below

 Panic ensures, fear that you’re turning into some hairy wolf beast stuck in a dream, becoming mishapened and hideous and—

You wake up fully and toss the covers off, revealing your husband who’s latched on to your tit, suckling the milk like in second heaven.

You stare down at him disappointingly. Joel only just realizes he’s been caught, your nip falling from his mouth with suctioned pop, as cream pours from his lips. Caught red handed.

“Um….sorry. Was hungry.”

You wack his head hard several times, enunciating, “That-is-for-the-baby!”

“Okay okay!”

“Do you do this often when I’m asleep?”

Joel shifts up slightly, staring down at your teeth ridden mounds. He clears his throat guiltily. “…No...”

He got an earful, and you were careful to make sure he didn’t try sneaking Sarah’s breastfast off of you in th early morning again. 

And that seemed like the end of it. He never brought it up or complained again.

And yet, the man was still gaining weight like nobody’s business…

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

I think we as a society really need to get over the idea that 'natural' automatically = 'good'.

And I don't just mean in a 'use actual disinfectant instead of cobwebs and wishful thinking!' kinda way, although that is part of it.

I mean in the way that so many people seem to fucking valorise the neolithic period as some sort of Pure and True Garden of Eden where everything was Perfect and humans got it Right.

Obviously we all know conservatives do it. The whole evolutionary psychology 'pink is for ladies because they evolved to see berries better, while blue is for boys because they evolved to hunt under the sky and we're going to ignore that these trends are less than a century old' thing. Yeah, we all get that that sucks.

But for some reason the Left Wing response is so often to just pull out the Uno Reverse card and be like "well actually the Neolithic era was a socialist utopia because-" which is surely a much less revolutionary argument than people seem to think it is.

Firstly, because it encourages historical revisionism. Like, if everything people learn about the lives of Early Humans ends up getting twisted into some political argument about the Right Way To Live in the modern day, then people are obviously going to be motivated to interpret the facts in a way that supports their own personal values.

To give an example: suppose one day we somehow found incontrovertible evidence that Stone Age autistic people were not actually valued for our ability to sort animal bones or stay awake all night or whatever, but were rather beaten to death with rocks the moment we started showing symptoms.

What would we do with that information? Given that 'autistic people were valued members of society in Stone Age times!' is currently being used as a key argument for our right to exist?

Ignore it? Refuse to believe it? Shrug our shoulders say "well, guess we were wrong" and start beating people to death with rocks as an expression of the wills of our Pure Divine Ancestors?

Which brings me to my second point of: while I don't think stone age societies actually did beat autistic people to death with rocks for no reason, they almost certainly did a fuckload of stuff that we would consider immoral today.

I mean, they definitely didn't vaccinate their kids. If you went back in time and told somebody from the Neolithic era "poke your kid with the Magic Needle and they will be Protected From Disease" they'd probably go for it, but if we're going for natural = good then technically the anti-vaxxers have it right.

There's also a fair amount of evidence for cannibalism. And massacres. And infanticide as a method of birth control. The natural state of humanity is pretty shitty by most modern standards.

And like, I'm not saying that stone age cultures were cruel and inhuman either. They were very human.

The nature of humanity isn't inherently brutal or inherently pure… it's mostly, in fact, the desire to build something for ourselves and our communities that is better than what we have. Medicine. Shelter. Warmth. Clean sources of water. Consistent sources of food.

Humans didn't Get It Right in the stone age, and we sure as hell haven't Got It Right yet. But billions of people didn't spend their whole lives working to make things better for future generations, only for us today to decide that the only way to Get Things Right is to go all the way back to the beginning.

[patcaps]

you can read my other thoughts on the finale here so i’m not gonna just say all the same things again but

the ending was always gonna be divisive with people loving it or hating it, liking it but wishing some things were a bit different. it’s the ending of a beloved show and nobody is ever gonna agree on what the right ending would be. it sucks to have folks outright rejecting it but it also sucks to see people like “you are wrong for having any criticisms whatsoever” like, i’m all for being able to discuss aspects of media and what we liked and didn’t like. it’s not always a bad faith interpretation, or cynicism, or being poor at understanding the writing and intention. and i love meta and analysis that doesn’t completely pick apart something and refuse it any grace or leniency. i think sometimes we’re way too hard on stuff that is ultimately heartfelt and from a place of love and joy, and unraveling them dampens the magic.

anyway. that aside. i love this show so much. there are things i’d have done differently, pacing choices that made it fall flat in places, but it’s not my show and these guys know their characters and love them as much as we do. and the ghosts and mike and alison never stopped being family - which is, ultimately, the biggest thing that matters. not the house, not where they are, but how they’ve helped each other for the better. alison and mike spent their entire lives making sure the ghosts were never forgotten, always went back to catch up. they got to enjoy all the fun and love of visiting family without the stress of living under each other’s feet 24/7 - and relationships with family often improve tenfold with that breathing space.

the show ended where it started with the plans to turn it into a hotel, but this time instead of the ghosts panicking and being like “drive her out, kill her” they loved alison enough to take all of that change on, safe in the knowledge that alison would never ever just abandon them. that’s such a neat way of showing how they’ve all helped each other. like, robin’s seen that house and the houses and land before it change so much but he felt so good about this change, literally said he felt christmassy finally, because they could do this. for her. for their friend, their family member, their alison.

they existed before alison and they’ll exist after her, but in the meantime they get to enjoy being her family and also know they’ve given them a more stable, secure, less stressful living arrangement that works for them all. they aren’t fully dependent on alison anymore and alison was no longer fearful of leaving and losing them because she knew they’d still be her family no matter what. i’ve seen some people interpret this as “they’re saying having a baby meant her found family weren’t important anymore, they have to go be a traditional family alone” and that was my kneejerk response too, but then i sat with it. and actually, alison goes from being a (presumed) orphan with no family besides mike and his side, to having all of that plus the ghosts, people who love her and always welcome her back to visit whenever she wants. how lovely for her to have her very own family she can go and see, who did such a kind thing for her, however bittersweet a decision it was initially.

and yeah, it’s true that the ghosts have less of alison there to take care of things like personalised entertainment, but that’s the whole point of them leaving - alison wasn’t in a position where she could worry about entertaining them all the time whilst also being with her husband and raising a newborn. it wasn’t fair to keep asking her to run around after a houseful of ghosts when looking after yourself and a small child is hard enough. she could have stayed and ended up resenting them, getting frustrated and angry the way they did with mike’s mum, potentially souring that relationship with the ghosts. instead she moved out and gets to go back and see them and love and enjoy them fully without that responsibility 24/7. i’m sure she took them new things, gifts, let them watch tv and read books, i bet they had requests for whenever she visited which she was more than happy to supply. and i bet they always had new anecdotes and things to catch her up on.

the more time i have, the more i warm to it all. it’s easy to say “they should have stayed together at the house” but this show is about being human, about life and death, how existence is both cruel and kind and beautiful and unexpected and it changes you and you change it. they did stay together, just not under the same roof. home is more than just button house, more than just a dream because dreams change as we go, and belonging is about more than just a destination. alison found home and belonging in the ghosts, and they found it in her too. the rest is just bricks and mortar.

[lola-bunn1]

secrets

❥ a/n: i wanted to make it an open ending so everybody's happy but i think it just made this fic really suck bro

You and Neteyam have been together for quiet a while now. You tell each other everything, you’ve always come to each other when something was wrong

That’s how it’s always been.

You’ve never fought.

That’s how it’s always been.

But so many things have been changing, including your relationship.

Ever since the sky people came back, it has been chaos everywhere. Neteyam, being the next olo’eyktan, of course has to be part of the war party. Used it as training.

You insisted on helping them. You were strong and great with an arrow, you could be a great use to them.

But Neteyam, being the way he is, said his father wouldn’t agree. And that your place was to be a healer.

And even though you were good at healing, you were better at fighting. You were a warrior and you deserved to be part of the war party.

Sometimes, you secretly left the fortress, and watching the wars happening from afar, and thinking of the so many ways you could’ve helped prevent something from happening if you were allowed to come.

You were smart though, you always left before they did and acted as if you didn’t know what had happened.

You still did your work as a healer, Neteyam would often come to you late at night so you could patch him up. He always looked bad, everyday was worse than the other.

Even though it has been happening for a while, your heart would still drop every time you saw him. Injuries spread all over his body, unusual amounts of blood everywhere. And you had to tell yourself, it wasn’t his. It wasn’t his.

It wasn’t his.

One night, you were sat alone at home, sitting and wondering until you heard rustling coming from outside, you held your knife in defense

“Whoa there, warrior. Just me” Neteyam said, holding his hands up in surrender, drenched in blood

“Oh my eywa, what—you…how” He quickly hushed you and cradled your face

“It’s not mine, y/n. I promise” He said, trying to calm you

You nodded and took a deep breath, “right, it’s not yours” You muttered to yourself

Sooner or later, you began patching him up

“Five deaths today, less than yesterday so it’s good, right?” He said

“Yeah…I guess so. But don’t you think you need more skilled warriors in the war party? I mean—look at Mao’wari, he barely knows how to even use his knife.”

He chuckled at how you insulted him

“I’m serious, Neteyam” You stopped working on his injury for a moment, “what if…what if I joined?”

He sighed, “Y/n, we talked about this—“

“Come on, Neteyam—“

“Listen to me, y/n. You’re a great warrior, don’t you think I know that? It’s not me who’s the problem, my father he just…I don’t know, he disagrees.” He explained

“Okay” You muttered and continued working on his injury, mentally planning what you’re going to do tomorrow

You’re gonna go give that guy a piece of your mind, does he think you’re weak because you’re a girl or something? You could fight ten times better than the stupid guys in his so skilled war party.

The next time they’re heading out was in a couple of days, which was perfect for you to go talk to him. You went to his tent the next day, fortunately no one else was there

“Y/n?” He spoke, seeing you peeking your head inside

“Uh, hi Mister Sully”

“Please, call me Jake.” He lightly smiled

“Um…Jake—“

“Neteyam isn’t here right now” He said

“No I was actually here to talk to you…” You said

“Oh, okay. What’s up kiddo?” He said

“Well—Neteyam has been telling me how you refused to let me join your war party—“

“I didn’t refuse.” He said, and you furrowed your eyebrows

“You—you didn’t?”

“No—actually I said you’d be great, I see you training everyday. You’d be a great help.”

“Oh—wow, uh, thank you Mister Sully—“

“Listen, come here kid” He whispered, and you moved closer, “I’ll let you come next time we leave, but you’re gonna have to be in the second group”

“Is it cause of Neteyam?” You asked

He sighed, nodding, "Yeah...yeah it's cause of him" He rubbed the bridge of his nose, "He's got some problem with it I don't know and I don't wanna deal with it, you wanna join us, go ahead. But I don't wanna hear any complaints from him so just do me a favor and don't tell him"

"Yes, sir—thank you, by the way" You politely smiled and walked out, your smile immediately faltering at the reminder of what he said.

Neteyam was the one who refused? And lied to you about it? Fine, if he was gonna lie straight to your face, you're gonna do the same and see how he likes it.

You went back to your tent, and a couple of people from the war party last night came to you to heal their injuries

After you were done, Neteyam came by to hangout

"I mean—he just doesn't understand how to follow simple rules" Neteyam ranted on and on about Lo'ak

"Mhm..." You said

"Mhm? That's it? I'm telling you—"

"It's not that he doesn't wanna follow the rules, Neteyam. Do you ever think he's trying to prove himself to his dad? You know how much he's been scolding him these days" You said, not even changing your tone.

All these nights, he's been talking to you normally as if he wasn't tricking you, and you're gonna do the same.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Maybe...you're right. I don't know...anyway, enough about him. How about you, how was your day, my love?" He asked

"The usual, some more people from last night came and I fixed them up" You said

"Hm, and you're not upset?" He held your hand

"Upset about what?" You casually asked

"About the whole war party thing...I know you really want to, it's just my dad—"

"I got it, don't worry. I'm not upset, I understand." You said, taking all your energy into not yelling at him.

Of course I understand what your dad said you lying piece of shit. You thought to yourself

After a day or two, it was finally time. You hid away from Neteyam so he wouldn't see you in your armor, and waited till he left so you could go with the second group.

You were amazing. You attacked a guy and took his gun, using it to shoot at the others, smiling to yourself as you saw them drop to the ground, one by one.

If only Neteyam saw how good you were.

After you came back, Jake went to your tent, seeing you patching up one guy, he waited till he left and patted your back

"I saw you out there, kiddo. You were great, I better see you again next time" He said

"Yeah—of course" You smiled, "Thank you, sir"

He nodded at you and walked out

For the next week or so, you were off doing your thing. You and Neteyam didn't talk much, he barely saw you since you avoided him so much. You were doing great, until one time

As you were out doing your thing, one guy managed to shoot at you, you dropped to the ground, the bullet landed on your leg as you screamed in pain

One guy was fast enough to pick you up before anyone else attacked, you were quickly taken to Norm and Max

Later that day, Neteyam went to see you, missing you after not seeing you for so long. He furrowed his eyebrows when you weren't there. His eyes widened, could you have been taken or something?

He ran back to his tent

"What's wrong?" Neytiri asked, noticing her son's worried look

"Mom—Y/n—she's gone! I went to see her, she isn't there!" He yelled and his dad turned to him, sighing

You finally woke up, seeing your leg wrapped in bandage tape

"She's awake" Norm said, you looked around and saw a door opening, and a very angry and worried Neteyam walking in

"Neteyam?" You said

"You're awake, oh thank eywa" He said as he hugged you, but was quick to back away

"I'll give you two a minute" Norm said, him and Max leaving

"You joined the war party and didn't tell me?" He said in anger

"I-"

"You lied to me!"

You froze and glared at him

"I lied to you?!" You yelled, "You lied to me first! You tricked me! You told me Jake didn't want me there, but it was you who didn't want me! And you have the audacity to say I'm the one who lied?!"

He sighed, "Look I—I was worried, alright? My friends—they're gone, and more are dying and I didn't want you to—"

"You don't make that choice for me!"

"I had no choice!" He snapped, "Do you know what would happen to me if I lost you?! I have a chance to keep you here, where it's safe. Do you really think I wouldn't take it?!"

"So it's fine if you go out into the danger but I can't? I am very skilled—"

"I know that! But if you were there—I'd just...I'd be worried! I would be no help, because I'd just be looking out for you"

"I don't want you to look out for me—"

"You don't have a say in this. I will always look out for you, you're not ever going back out there and that's final." He sternly said

"I'm going." You said, "And I do have a say in this. I think I'm the one who's supposed to be making the decisions for myself, and I decided I'm going whether you like it or not."

"You're not going, y/n."

"Yes I am."

"Listen to me!" He yelled, "I cannot go out there knowing you're in the same danger I'm in. Please, my love. Don't do this"

You looked at him for a moment and sighed, he held your hands and leaned your forehead against his

"I'm so sorry I lied, y/n. Please" He whispered

"I'm sorry I lied too..." You whispered back

You sat there, holding each other in silence, you had missed the touches you used to share with him. You missed being around him all the time, but you had avoided him to make sure he doesn't find out

But now he did, and yes it caused problems, but you were going to figure it out together.

[autisticrosewilson]

You have any Wilson family headcanons to spare? Especially on Rose & Grant?

DO I EVER!!! Gosh where do I even start

I mentioned to a friend of mine the other day that I think Slade was a leash kid, and I stand by that whole heartedly. He wanted to raise Grant as a leash kid too, simply because he thought you were supposed to, but Adeline threatened his life so it never happened. This was the first of many times he was confronted with the concept that maybe his home life wasn't great.

He would not even begin reflecting on this until almost a decade later. He still doesn't really consider himself a victim and honestly most of his shitty parenting comes from him just having no clue what he's doing. He's aware that he's bad at it, but instead of trying to improve he just tries to avoid his kids in hopes that they'll be better off without him.

Also he grew up in 1950's-60's Appalachia, I think he's more superstitious than he lets on. I imagine he grew up hearing about family curses and old wives tales, and while on some level he recognizes that Fran likely just used those stories to cope with the situation there's also a part of him that believes it for the same reasons she did. He's not a victim, he can't be, so it must not have been abuse. Which eventually turned into him just kind of accepting that he was always going to be a bad father, that there was never a chance for him to have a family and any attempt he makes will just end up worse than the last.

It makes it easier to maintain his self imposed isolation that way.

Adeline is a lot more interesting than people give her credit for. I like to think she was born and raised in a big city like New York or maybe Gotham if I wanted to be funny. She was definitely a wild child, and that was something that didn't change during her first marriage.

I truly do believe that Count whats-his-face (I don't care enough to look him up) tried exactly once to hit her and he ended up with three bullet wounds that all knicked arteries. It was his only warning and he was smart enough to know that.

Addie is loyal to the end, she's the kind of person that steadfastly refuses to let go of people she cares about. In basically ever version of her story she tries, she tries so hard to make things work. I once compared her to the Greek myth of Medea and I think about the comparison often.

I also think that Adeline was always her father's daughter, whether she liked it or not. I don't remember if it was canon that she was raised primarily by her dad but I only remember her dad being mentioned so I think she grew up in a single parent household and was mostly left to her own devices as a kid. She probably grew up really close with her cousin, most people probably thought they were sisters.

Mayflower fucking HATES Slade, she was advocating for the divorce before they were even married. I know in my heart she was Slade's biggest hater. Her and Slade talked mad shit about each other but they were also gossip buddies for the longest and it was the only thing that stopped her from beating his ass all the time.

SladeAddie is so toxic Bi4Bi coded. Really funny to me that Addie was probably older than Slade, do you know the kind of rizz you have to possess to bag a milf that could kill you in 20 different ways before you could blink? One who's already been divorced? What charm was this freshly 18 year old drop out exuding to be pulling like this?

When do you think he told her that he lied to the recruiter about his age and he wasn't actually 23 or whatever? Did he ever tell her? Did she figure it out herself? It was literally never addressed but I think about it all the time.

Slade is definitely still mildly in love with her and falls a little all over again every time she deals him grievous bodily harm. I don't know his thing for people who hate him is probably a self conscious way to punish himself for sucking all the time.

Billy and Alfred being friends is a headcanon that I literally never stop thinking about. Why wouldn't they be old friends or whatever? They have tea the 4th Tuesday of every other month. They complain about their respective morons and brag about the kids they have to take care of because their morons won't.

Billy is definitely a British rock fan and he fucking HATES country music. Slade starts playing it in the car and Billy threatens to crash the whole car just to make a point.

He's like maybe 5 years older than Slade if I'm being generous about it, he just looks older next to Slade because he's not hopped up on super serum.

He's the one Rose gives her father's day gifts to <3

SladeBilly is canon to me, no way Slade is capable of spending that much time with someone without sleeping with them at least once. It might be the healthiest relationship he's ever had with anyone and Billy barely tolerates him.

Lilian Worth my beloved,,,,,,they gave her such a white ass name. I choose to believe that she changed it later on for anonymity. Chea Nath is a name she hasn't used in a while, but it's still one she holds dear.

She seems like someone who was really into ballet, and probably someone who was really good at it too.

She's one of those characters that we don't really have any information on, which leaves a lot of wiggle room backstory wise. I probably write too much about characters with poor backgrounds (surprise your bitch grew up impoverished) so I guess I'll let Lili have this one.

Diplomats daughter, her and her mom were really close growing up, and she seems like she grew up with sisters. She's got that middle sister energy to her, growing up everyday was a fight and let's just say she didn't lose often.

If Adeline is Medea, Lili is definitely Circe. Versatile, powerful, a man hater, and she'll do anything to protect her girls.

Honors student, her grades never dropped below an A- and she has degrees in everything from fine art to communications. Rose went to college purely because her mom made it clear that not going was not an option.

Grant is one of my favorite characters. Ever. He's definitely an old school country enjoyer, much to Billy's chagrin and Slades secret delight.

He was the boy who climbed up the tallest trees to prove he could and then came home with a thousand little scrapes on him.

He has a bee allergy.

He's the least enhanced of his siblings but he still has a meta gene, I think the reason the H.I.V.E. serum didn't activate it like it should have is because his power was the mental kind and not the physical kind so his body couldn't hold up against it even while his psychic powers were getting stronger.

Painted his nails one(1) time, it was a dried up iridescent blue that Addie dug up and was going to throw away but Grant wanted to try it. He didn't know what nail polish remover was though so he scraped his teeth on his nails to get it all off but he couldn't get all of it and he almost cried so hard he threw up at dinner that night because he was scared of Slade noticing (Slade didn't notice and wouldn't have cared if he did).

Thought he was SO stealthy when he snuck out but literally everyone knew because he always came home smelling like weed, hungover, and he went to school in the same clothes he wore to go out. Most of the time Addie didn't care (See above: "former wild child") but Slade "Biggest loser in his hometown" Wilson always had an issue with it.

Officially his tomb is located in the Kane family plot but he's actually buried in Slades hometown next to his grandmother. (Adeline is not aware of this)

Joey was actually the one who pulled most of the pranks when they were kids, but Grant always took the fall. Mostly because literally no one would believe it even if Joey said he did it. Which he tried to do, many times.

Grant taught Joey to make flower crowns but he never admitted it because he thought it made him look weak. He still keeps the few that Joey made for him though, they're basically turning to dust in the drawer he hid them in to this day. They're one of the few things that weren't torn down and shoved in the attic after his death.

Joey still celebrates Grant's birthday every year, him and mom play The Last Man by Clint Mansell on the piano because it was his favorite piece to play before he stopped because it wasn't "cool".

Grant tried to get Joey to come with him when he ran away but Joey didn't want to leave Addie. Joey ended up moving into Grant's old apartment, he often thinks of what life would be like if he'd taken up the offer.

Grant is THE ass hole big brother from the late 90's/early 2000's. Down to the mullet and the shirt with the sleeves cut off. He used to steal Addie's eyeliner and she would get so mad because that stuff is EXPENSIVE and he's just smearing however. She teaches him how to do it properly but he says it makes him look "too girly".

Grant's picture is the only one in Slades wallet because he doesn't have to worry about putting him in danger anymore.

DON'T let Joey's "natural" pretty boy look fool you he has a 20 step skin routine and a 15 step hair routine and he wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to start on his makeup.

He used to get the worst acne as a pre-teen and he has physically burned all the evidence except for one picture of him and Slade on a fishing trip when he was like thirteen, he doesn't know it exists and it's the only picture Slade consistently travels with.

He doesn't want to be the favorite but he would get mad if someone else was the favorite because what work were YOU even putting in for it.

He has 12 year old boy humor I fear. Giggles at dick jokes and has used his name to make "Joe Mama" jokes on various occasions.

Number one Mama's boy of all time, there's not a single time they've gone out in public together where they haven't had coordinated outfits. Him and Addie call biweekly to shit talk people and exchange recipes and the like.

Joey is THE biggest gossiper. He'll talk shit about people right in front of them if he's sure they don't know ASL and whoever is around just has to try not to laugh while they "translate" him.

He's so good at convincing people to do things for him just by looking at them with his big ol' eyes. And he's a theater kid so his expressions are really exaggerated.

Rose, my muse. I know canonically she's a smoker but I'm changing that to her being a vaper. I don't know she just looks like she'd beat the shit out of you for a cherry lemon cancer stick.

Energy drinks don't work on her in normal amounts so to rectify that she constantly walks around with horrific concoctions in a water bottle the size of her head.

She street races as R4V4G3R and she's pretty good at it. She learned a lot about cars doing it which is how Slade justified being an anonymous benefactor for her.

The few weeks Slade had her she ran that shit like the navy. Up at 6 AM on the dot, tight ass ponytail swaying as she got ready for school. She was out that door by 7:25 everyday and she would MAKE Slade violate traffic laws to get to school by 7:35.

Has bitten people before and will do it again.

Had the BIGGEST crush on Donna Troy when she was on the Teen Titans. She didn't know it then but she did. Her taste in women really hasn't changed at all.

Only has her grunge thing going on when she's planning on meeting people, average day outfit is all pastels and florals that her mom used to pick out for her.

Got pretty much all of Lili's stuff, her main apartment is always Immaculately decorated. She also lives in L.A. because literally fuck New York. She's trying to get her engineering degree in PEACE.

She looks up to Grant a lot, she really only has Joey's account of things and he only tells her the good stuff. How he was brave, and strong, and funny. When she was younger she really wanted to be like him, but that was the last thing Slade wanted. So obviously she named herself Ravager out of spite.

Rose is the shortest one in the family but she's buff as hell, my girl is built like a fridge and she knows it. Joey tried to rest his arm on her head one and she stabbed him. It didn't go through his armor obviously but it did leave a mildly annoying bruise that he pouted about for a week.

She low-key really likes Addie but she tends to stay away because of the whole "child of infidelity" thing. She HAS threatened to call Addie on Slade multiple times.

Grew up with a bunch of other kids so she never really wanted siblings, but she would kill for Joey. She'd like a sister though. Really misses her cousins and aunts from the brothel but doesn't want to put them in danger by talking to them.

She's fond of kids but wouldn't want her own because she doesn't want to bring a kid into the kinda life she has, or their family in general.

Routinely takes jobs from Slade because she knows full well he won't do shit. And she's right every time he makes it into a team up that usually ends with them fighting but sometimes, every once in a while, they do something nice together and it makes her remember why she wanted to find him so bad when she was 13.

I don't like her carving her eye out for Slade I thought the whole concept of her idolizing Slade was fucking stupid. She tolerates him at best. So I like to attribute it to her visions, I think the blind prophet symbolism is really fun. Especially because then we can have a Prometheus type situation where her eye patch keeps switching sides/sometimes she's not blind because she keeps carving them out in fits of Seer Madness™️ but they keep regenerating.

SHE HAS BROWN EYES HER EYES ARE BROWN I KNOW HER PERSONALLY PLEASE LET HER KEEP EVEN ONE OF HER ETHNIC FEATURES I BEG!!!