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#and purpose…nothing but to make him more interesting. I think if he thought about that for longer than what he already has…it would…probably
leam1983 · 3 days
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Lisan al-Ghaib
The Hellsite has a thing against White Savior narratives, and for good reason. The idea that general-purpose Natives have some elixir for mindfulness, mental health or even sociopolitical stability is nothing new. It's as tokenistic as you think if you take it at face value, but I think the more classic examples in the genre like Dances With Wolves or, God forbid, Avatar (a revised copy of the previous title, in many ways) tend to focus on something that's a smidge more positive - namely in that the Other - not the Noble Savage, so much as someone with an entirely external perspective - has the power to help us progress. A very debatable posture.
In effect, the classic examples in the genre contend that it's not really about "saving the Natives" or even becoming their saviour, but rather about the unformed or troubled protagonist finding themselves thanks to the Natives' input. I've always thought that Wolves' Sioux never needed Dubar, Dunbar needed them. The Na'vi never needed Jake Sully, some other member of the people would've eventually filled in the blanks and become Toruk Makto. Instead, Jake Sully needed the Na'vi to fix himself. There's nothing magical there, despite the First Nations spiritualism that mostly coats the genre, ripped out of its context and sort of propped up the same way mindfulness is now pulled out of its own context and served up to the masses, as if living with a little anxiety or stress were somehow a symptom for something more insidious. The world forgot Herbert's object lesson, and suggested that for some people, especially damaged goods, the only way to find purpose is to subsume yourself in another culture. You emerge as the saviour, kill the monster, and fulfill your role in the story.
Taking up someone else's problems to fix yourself isn't an actual solution; I think any two-bit psychologist could tell you that. Even if Dunbar and Sully emerge whole and healed from their own tales, they're behavioural abnormalities. Power doesn't allow you to stay humble. Power corrupts.
Ask Shaddad. Ask the Bene Gesserit. Ask the Harkonnens, who never saw their end coming.
Back when Frank Herbert first wrote Dune, Eastern mysticism was taking off much in the same way we're seeing meditation and yoga. He pulled an interesting bait-and-switch in showing us a protagonist who seemed set to go from a mostly nameless aristocrat to your typical conquering hero - but he realized that some faiths can be noxious. Some currents can twist the mind. After all, Paul Atreides' own stories addresses the fact that he comes to align with fundamentalists, and does so willingly.
In many ways, George Lucas tried to play the same melody with Anakin Skywalker being set up as the Force's hero, only for the will of the Galaxy to be made manifest through his son, instead. The problem is, unlike Herbert, Lucas lacks subtlety. The danger of messianic thinking more or less deserves a dream-state vignette on Dagobah, where Luke beheads Vader and sees his own face in the depths of his father's mask. Herbert, in comparison, makes those fears concrete. Paul was on shaky ground the moment he embraced the moniker of Muad'Dib, and slipped into something I might as well call psychosis, after drinking the Waters of Life.
Chani lost the man she fell in love with. Paul Atreides lost himself.
White Savior narratives aren't meant to be seen as the Civilized Man saving the day. They're meant to be seen as an outsider protagonist needing an external point of view to face the abyss, more or less.
If you're an optimist, the protagonist is thankful for the wisdom he's received and plays his part, not for prophecy or for Ego - but for basic care and consideration. Consider Shogun's Blackthorne, by the end of the series. He wasn't one to calculate his next move - he's clearly a man of passion. Japan gave him something to hold onto - and then squeezed around him like a vice made up of niceties and political manoeuvring. Yoshii Toranaga, on the other hand, is the chess player. Blackthorne's fate is the grimmest of the brighter ends of the White Savior genre. He didn't save anyone or anything; he merely proved useful.
If you're a pessimist, you turn to Dune or to any of your local Fire-and-Brimstone preachers.
Considering, when I hear the Hellsite dismiss Dune as just another story written by a White guy about some other White guy saving some vaguely Middle-Eastern-coded people; that tells me a lot of armchair critics haven't picked up the books or watched the movies.
If anything, Dune's very premise gives reason to those of you who decry Colonialist rhetoric. Dune isn't just a seminal science-fiction classic; it's also a warning about what happens when faith goes haywire, and of what happens when the balance of power tips in the worst direction possible.
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orcelito · 10 months
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Revealing myself as a 98 vashmeryl truther by how I write vash and meryl's interactions in itnl
#speculation nation#itnl shit#THEYRE JUST SO FUNNY and i love them 😭😭😭😭#so yes this is a trimax fic but i am just gonna. push my 98 agenda for their relationship hfkdhfj Just a little#idk their dynamic is just more Present in the anime than in the manga. and it works for the setup i have so There.#also yes this is a vashwood fic IM ALLOWED to enjoy other dynamics too#toeing the line a little bit on the slight undertones but nothing will come of it#i. plan to have an acknowledgement in this chapter. chapter 13#vash makes a joke that could be interpreted as flirty and she's basically like 'Dont Deflect. you dont see me like that anyways.'#vash realizing that Yeah there kind of is a dynamic there. but also hes so focused on wolfwood he wouldnt wanna lead her on#it's like. this is just kinda part of being an adult ykno lol like#sometimes you have feelings for your friends and you can acknowledge it even & if youre mature enough about it it's Fine#he'll let her believe he has 0 possible interest in her bc it's easier that way. for both of them.#he doesnt want her to get her hopes up. doesnt wanna lead her on.#and YEAH MAYBE IM A POLYGUN TRUTHER I THINK ALL 4 OF THEM WOULD BE GREAT TOGETHER#for the purposes of this fic im keeping it to just the vashwood#but i cant resist... a lil sprinkle here and there......#like them meeting with a goddamned meet cute & then vash subsequently being an Asshole by getting her hopes up & then dipping#thats like. the vibes. thats the thing. vash realizing he needs to nip this in the bud bc he Cant be what she wants him to be.#im just. man. i have some Thoughts about this all.#if you couldnt guess vash & meryl r having some relationship development this chapter. im excited !!!!#they Will be friends!!!!!!! soon.
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bumbleblurr · 1 year
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I gotta hold myself accountable to when I'm making content that's not really based on canon at all, so I remain self aware & whatnot, but I still occasionally think things like "but blurr should be arcee's number one fan 🥺.... bc i said so........"
#🐝 could you repeat the last part? 🟦#i make a good effort to stay self aware bc i dont want to lost in fanon delusion. i cant let that happen to me#also it would be hypocritical of me to go ''i dislike this fanon it has no basis in canon''#when i also like making up shit if it's interesting#so i make it clear that im just picky abt hcs and stuff like that#for me to enjoy them they gotta contribute something interesting to the source material but not come out of left field#and i dont rlly care for edgy stuff if it doesnt rlly serve much purpose#so i dont rlly care for hcs like ''bee is ACTUALLY megatrons great nephew once removed !!!!!!!!!!!!''#they do nothing for me i just go ''man i dont care'' and turn around#like thats just personal taste though and im a notoriously particular & picky person so. who cares what i think u get what i mean#though u should care abt arcee fanboy blurr bc its good and awesome alright /hj#IT THINK ITS FUN AND CONTRIBUTES AN INTERESTING TAKE ON CANON ...#bc blurr admiring arcee 1) makes sense bc arcee is genuinely a badass & literally worked in the same division he does#2) brings more focus to the parallel between them about how they got seriously injured in ways that impact their most notable qualities#(arcee having her memories wiped when her mind is one of her most important qualities as a school teacher & intel agent)#(blurr having his body damaged & handicapped when speed achieved by his physical athletic ability is a defining part of his character)#3) solidarity in that trauma baby. and arcee can be blurr's gramama (applause amazing brilliant we love to see it)#and also who doesnt love to see blurr having girlbosses idols. arcee inspires him to be a girlboss too#see this is how ridiculous i am i have to have these detailed thoughts abt hcs i cant just go stupid#no i cant change this about myself btw#i am pretentious at heart i have to be like this with media i enjoy#but still i always try to indicate that i am aware that my hcs are just fan interpretations of stuff so i dont like#accidentally come off as me forcing my ideas of canon onto other ppl like. this is just my lego city that im building i know of my bullshit#though i still do draw deep lines for things like . blurr being social (shudders)
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n0ct0urn1quet · 2 years
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@510snake this is us except we r both autistic
#im kissing you DIRECTLY on the forehead rn#THAMk you for lteign me infodump am very very haby rn...........#IM SORRY I HAD NOTHING RLY TO SAY ABOUT SPOTTY OR MEADOW im really trying hard to give them some character#other than meadowheart's starclan thing and . yknow. wifes#SJHDKBKJG#I MIGHT take your advice and make spotty evil or make her do smoething fucked up and malicious#i may make her cause problems on purpose!#maybe she could have like a darkstar moment and just snap and kill a bitch#I MEAN im not comparing her to darkstar she is nowhere near as shitty as he is . shes babie compared to him haha#but idk!!!!!!!!!! i DO want to have. one of her siblings die. annnnd i wannt to have them b killed by darkstar.....#OR WELL ok not directly killed BY darkstar. maybe killed by somene else but it all leads back to darkstar anyways hah#but idk!!!!!!!!!!! maybe ill give her a lil story arc of her own. alil tomfoolery a little fucked up moment or two#but anyways!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :]#i lub u bro i lub u lots.......#am verey sorey ur sic bro :[ being sick sucks ASS but im glad ur at least feeling better today and hopefully better tomorowe :]#also ik i say this like a lot but bro did u know........that um.....hhghgehe......preby voice :]#i just lov listneing to u talk okay !!!!!!!!!!!! u have a very lovly n soothing voice . tis very preby.........#preby girle voice :] so prety!!!!!!!! i coul listen to u talk for HOURS bro next time we vc YOU should infodump 2 me.......#just like about whatevr ur into rn !!!!!!! i wana hear u talke!!!!!!!!!! wana hear u go gbjfbgkjbfgjk about ur special interests!!!!!!!!!!#also bro i was alredy thinking of a short lil story i mite put into ur inbox.........itl prolly be less dialogue n more just Thoughts but#idk hopfully it makes u go :] !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#caus i lov u!!!!!!! and!!!!!!! i like making u go :]!!!!!!! i like making u habby n i like maiking u smile bro...............#ur smile is cute !!!!!!!! ur smile is contagious bc when we video chat n i see YOU smile i end up smiling too bc bjbjkvghj!!!!!!!#ur very prettyyyyyy u hav lovly long hair n a prety face n lovly shape........... hghge..........#beeeeg tumy beeg thighs beeg ass beeg everythimg bro!!!!!!!! u so beeg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my beeg wifey :] :] :]#OKEY anyways sorey im cutting it short i am having many writing ideas and if i dont write them down right this second im gonna yell#so JFFBGJHFGBJKBJKG but goodnite pepper!!!!!!!! get goos seeby!!!!!!!!! il b here if u ned anythign tho like i said las nite............#but iiiiiiiiiiii lubs u :] get lots of good seebs n snugle with the me pillow.......... :] :] goonites !!!!!! seep tite!!!!!!! bfbkj!!!!! :#I TRIED TO PUT A :] BUT IT CUT ME OFF !!!!!!! MEANYS TO ME!!!!! MEAN 2 HOLLY!!!!!!!!!!!!! >:[ SKJDBJHBHJGB
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roosterforme · 14 days
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 3 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You rendered Bradley speechless and left him wondering if your students were the ones who wanted to know what he looked like or if it was really you who was curious. He wanted to know everything about you, but the urge to ask for more was mingling with his duty to keep things professional. You and he teetered on the edge... until you didn't.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley looking hot
Length: 3100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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Bradley found himself homesick in a way he never did before. He still had weeks and weeks of this deployment to go, stuck on the aircraft carrier, endlessly curious about someone he barely knew anything about and a classroom full of kids he'd never met. But he felt like he wanted to know more about you and them. 
At least he was too busy now to dwell on the fact that it had been days since the last mail call. He was never one who was lined up, eager to collect something from a loved one. Vanessa and all of his other ex girlfriends never sent him handwritten notes or snacks. He'd gotten sporadic emails in the past, but nothing that made him smile and laugh out loud. Never anything that made him sad when he realized he had reached the end of the note, hoping for more.
He wanted to go back to the lounge and check his email, but he was afraid he'd have nothing new to read. There was really nobody else other than you who would send him anything right now, and he was sure you had something better to do with your time than comment on the photos he'd send of his jet and the engine parts. And even if you had written back, how long could he really keep this conversation with you going? How soon would you run out of interest in his deployment?
Bradley knew he'd be much better at talking to you in person, but how the hell was he supposed to get there? Jesus Christ, you were probably married. You probably already had someone back home wrapped around your fingers, and here he was, still thinking about you. 
"Pitiful," he muttered, making his way to the lounge anyway. He would keep it professional with you. One hundred percent. But he still wanted to know if your students got to see the photos and if they had any questions about them. 
When he logged into his email account, his heart skipped around a bit when he saw that he had something new from you. Then he opened it up and read it, and his lips parted softly in surprise at what you'd sent.
Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 
We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.
Bradley read it again. Still surprised, he read it a third time. Were you the one asking for the photo? It seemed like you might be. Or was he just projecting here? Shit. Maybe. He'd been thinking about how he'd respond if you asked him something personal, and this felt like you and he were teetering right on the edge.
You even echoed his own thoughts, but it still made him warm all over to know that you looked forward to hearing from him. That it made your day better when he sent an email. He decided he was going to keep this going as long as he could.
He logged out again and headed to the mess hall for dinner, because there was no point in responding until he had the photo you just asked him for. One where you'd be able to see exactly what every inch of him looked like. As he ate his meatloaf, his thoughts all settled on that one pertinent question: were your students really the ones who were curious about how he looked, or were you? Because it sounded like it could be the latter. He fucking hoped it was. And he fucking hoped you wouldn't be disappointed after tomorrow when he sent you exactly what was asked of him.
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You thought you were ready, but you weren't. Not for this. Not for him. Not even close. Thankfully it was still early enough that none of your students were in the classroom with you, because Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw had responded to your slightly tipsy email from a few nights ago. He sent exactly one photo, and your only response was to softly moan, "Holy hell."
To say he was attractive looking standing there in his flight suit next to the jet with his name on the side of it would have been the understatement of the century. He was hot. Unbelievably hot. Top tier. You shamelessly zoomed in to get an even better look at his face which was complete with a crooked little smile and a fucking mustache.
"Who does he think he is?" you asked the empty room, voice filled with need. "The audacity."
Even his messy, wavy hair looked soft enough for you to want to rub your face and lips against it. Where did that idea come from? You uncrossed and recrossed your legs as the most delightful thoughts filled your mind. You already knew he was sweet, kind, attentive and humble, but now you knew he was easy on the eyes, too. If only you could hear his voice. 
After several minutes of uninterrupted gawking, you realized he'd written a few sentences to you as well, addressing you just as he always had. But this felt more personal. Maybe a little intimate.
For reference, I'm 6'1" and 205 pounds. That should give you and your kiddos a good size comparison, yeah? Also, just a little curious myself here.... are you sure they were the only ones who wanted to know what I look like? Or did you want to know, too?
So he called you out. Your whole body felt too hot and too light. You were floating off of your chair even as your heart pounded. You must be two feet in the air by now. He already knew what you looked like, but now you cared more than ever what he thought about you. Because you had a massive crush on your classroom pen pal.
"How embarrassing. You drunk emailed him! How are you supposed to respond to this?" you whispered as you closed your laptop and pressed your fingers to your lips. It was hard to tell if his tone was playful or not. He was smiling in the photo, which made you think that he was. But perhaps he was trying to put a stop to any topic of conversation that could be considered personal. 
Then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. No way was this man single. He was handsome. That would have been enough on its own. But he also had an impressive career, all of his hair, and he was tall. And that didn't even scrape the surface of his sweet personality! You couldn't embarrass yourself further. You just couldn't. You wanted him to keep writing to your class, because they were already so attached to him. You couldn't ruin this for them. 
When your students came flooding into the room, they led off with the same question they had every morning now. "Did we get anything in the mail from Lieutenant Bradshaw?"
"Not yet," you replied, still trying to decide how to respond to his photo. "But hopefully soon. He did email another picture though."
All of them were immediately headed for your desk, wanting to see what their pen pal looked like. You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself as you opened up that photo again, and then the kids all interjected into your thoughts.
"His jet is so cool!"
"It's huge!"
"He looks exactly how I thought he would!"
"Can he send us more stuff?"
It took you a good, long while to get them all into their seats. Clearly you weren't the only one who was entranced by him. Their questions overflowed, most of which still had to do with the aviation topics you'd been teaching them. Bradley Bradshaw had turned your classroom upside down, in a good way. And the more you thought about it, the more you just wanted to make sure you weren't missing out on something here. This man was better looking than the last three guys you went out with all combined, and he already made you feel tingly inside before you knew that for a fact.
You went home after work and did it again. You drank some wine and logged into your work email account and wrote back to him less than a day after he wrote to you. Part of you recognized that you'd look desperate, but you simply had to know so you could stop thinking about him if necessary. You started typing. 
It was definitely, absolutely my students who wanted to know what you look like. It had nothing to do with me. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. That being said...nice photo. Very nice.
My kids also wanted me to ask you if your spouse or significant other is in the Navy. And they'd like to know how old your kids are if you have any. Once again, just to be clear, I'm only asking these things on their behalf...
"Send," you whispered, doing it before you could stop yourself. Then you were left with your intrusive thoughts and the rest of the wine, ultimately deciding to just go to bed. He wasn't going to respond right away. He was busy working. You just hoped it didn't take too long. 
But it did. Days passed. You normally tried not to think about your work email account during the weekends, let alone check it. Saturday was miserable as you logged in almost hourly to check and double check if you had something new from Lieutenant Bradshaw. It was so bad, you ended up initiating a movie night with some of your friends, opting to lock your phone in the center console of your car rather than take it into the theater. 
Sunday was no better. You took yourself to the beach for the afternoon to try to read and sunbathe. But there was a group of guys in US NAVY TOP GUN shirts playing football, and you wondered if Bradley ever did this kind of thing with his friends. Or his family. Jesus Christ, why couldn't he just write back and tell you if he had a pretty wife and six adorable kids who loved to play football on the beach with him?
When two of the guys in the TOP GUN shirts purposely threw the football toward your towel and tried to play it off as an accident, you didn't even feel like returning their flirtatious banter. Neither of them had a mustache or soft looking brown hair. Neither of them left you wanting to know more. 
You went home and tried so hard not to check your work email, but you failed miserably. But then you were happy you caved, because he wrote back. Bradley Bradshaw actually responded again. And a few seconds later, you were giggling and trying to control the squeal that escaped your lips.
When the mail arrived on the aircraft carrier yesterday, I was one of the first officers in line, and I wasn't disappointed. I got the second box from your class, and I can't wait to start reading and responding to everyone's notes this week. I'll let you know when you've got more mail coming your way. 
Since your students seem to be showing quite an interest in my personal life, please let them know I actually don't have a spouse or significant other at all. Nor do I have any kids. Their letters (and your emails, too) are the only ones I'm getting this deployment. No one else has been writing to me. Nobody stateside is waiting for me. I hope that answers their questions to your liking.
And now it's your turn to answer a question for me. Is there a guy in your life who is going to try to beat the crap out of me if I tell you that I think you're gorgeous? 
I'll just be waiting impatiently for your response.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
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Bradley was so tired. The kind of bone deep exhaustion that only comes after the completion of a dangerous mission when your adrenaline finally wears off. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be back at home in his bed in San Diego with a soft, warm body next to his and a sweet voice in his ear. But he was picturing your face and your body, already convinced you'd have the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.
Shit. He needed to focus on what the admirals had to say instead of drift into daydreams.
"No need to report to the strategy room in the morning, Lieutenant," his commanding officer said as Bradley unzipped the top of his flight suit. "Take some time to rest."
He saluted the admiral and walked off toward his bunk and a hot shower. But even as the steamy water eased the ache in his muscles, he thought about how he already knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right now. Not when he still had a few messages from your students to respond to. Not when those notes always made him smile.
This time you'd only included a very short note in the box, but it wasn't typed up and printed out. It was written in your pretty penmanship on a sheet of lined paper.
Lt Bradshaw,
I hope this package finds you well. Please prepare yourself for approximately seven hundred more questions. Thanks again for sharing your time with us.
He didn't mind one bit. In all actuality, he was living for this shit, already thinking about how he could maybe visit your classroom someday soon. Several of the kids asked him if he could. They all asked him to take more pictures of life on the aircraft carrier. Then he laughed for a solid minute over the photo that Jayden sent of his Cocker Spaniel named Vanessa. 
But Bradley had purposely been neglecting his email inbox for the last few days. He was too afraid to read your words telling him that you were in fact taken, and that he was stupid for thinking you'd been the one who wanted to know what he looked like. He was rather enjoying the delusion that you might let him tell you how pretty he thought you were over email and maybe someday in person. He decided to respond to the rest of the notes in the box before getting rejected, otherwise it would be too hard to do this.
He finished writing back to Oliver and Cooper and then tucked the box away under his bed before drifting off to sleep while dreaming of his own bed. But the next day, he had literally no work to do. He's been given the entire day off. He hit the gym and avoided the married woman like the plague. Then he ate lunch and contemplated going back to the gym again, but his feet carried him to the lounge instead. At the very least, he promised you that he'd let you know when you had mail on the way so the kids could get excited. He should take the time to tell you he'd be sending more responses to your class by air mail.
Somehow Bradley had convinced himself so thoroughly that you were in a relationship, he almost couldn't fathom anything else. But there was a new message from you in his inbox, and it felt like a gift when he opened and read it.
Lt Bradshaw,
I must say, I was surprised to find out that my emails and the letters from my class are the only ones making their way to you. Not that I'm complaining. Not one bit. I just find it hard to believe that you don't have a lot of interested parties hoping for a chance to be the one you think about when you're deployed and all alone.
My last boyfriend didn't like it when I talked about my fourth graders. He didn't really see any value in what I do for a living. He would have never taken the time to read something they wrote let alone answer their questions individually. So no, there's nobody who would be upset with you for making me feel like there are butterflies permanently living in my belly now. If you want to tell me you think I'm gorgeous, I'm certainly not going to stop you.
Here's my personal, non school affiliated email address. Just in case you feel like using it. If not, you can keep responding here, and I can take the hint that we went far enough.
I hope you're doing well and staying safe.
Frantically, Bradley checked the date and time stamp. "Fuck," he growled, his fingers not quite able to keep up with his brain when he realized you'd sent this to him days ago. More than five days ago! "Shit. Fuck!" He had been keeping you waiting! As soon as he got his hands working at the same speed as his thoughts, he copied and pasted your personal email address and started a new thread like his life depended on it.
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You were just curling up with a cup of sleepy time tea after a long day at work, wishing someone would put you out of your misery, when your phone vibrated on the couch cushion next to your leg. You were half tempted to ignore it, reasoning that it was probably time to accept the fact that Bradley Bradshaw already lost interest in you and delete his photos from your downloads folder. You should learn how to stop embarrassing yourself.
Then you glanced down and saw that you had a new email. It was from a now familiar sender. It had been sent to your personal account. You immediately scrambled to unlock your phone and read it.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'd like to take it further.
Yours Truly,
Bradley Bradshaw
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What the fuck, Bradley, you smooth man! Take it further, take it further, take it further! I love how impatient they get when they want to hear from each other. Now go ahead and get a little more personal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who sent me messages and asks about this fic.
PART 4
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chrolloluvr · 2 months
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Adam, Mammon, Alastor and Lucifer if S/O is on their period
Note: AFAB!Reader, not proofread, (should I make a story out of mammons??)
Warnings: Mentions of sex, minor degrading?, fluff 🥺, cute moments
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Adam 🕊️:
He has an idea of how periods or the menstrual cycle work. In his time of being married to Eve and Lilith, he basically just let them handle it themselves. But with you, thats not how it works
When you get moody swings, he tells you that your being dramatic.
"Babe what the hell? Take a chill pill, jesus."
Please slap him across the face.
When you get cramps, he will throw you some Pepto bismol and call it a day.
If you send him to the store, he will ask you what flavor tampon you want (???), and if he can have a visual representation on what size he needs.
He tried to FaceTime you 15 times...
Had to disguise himself so nobody knew he was there.
He will offer to have sex with you, since that was what seemed to work with his other two wives
Goes out and buys you snacks, but he forgets that you're on your period so he mostly bought them for himself.
Asks Lute for advice, since he isn't a girl.
You end up with your head resting on his shoulders, while you sit in his lap. He will call you a drama queen, but he will still comfort you.
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Mammon 🕸️:
He knows literally nothing about periods or the menstrual cycle.
He never really cared to learn anything about it either, since he had never taken any romantic interest in anybody until you. He considered it a waste of time.
When you have mood swings, he does not take you seriously, and he will probably baby you.
"Awhh, dont get your thong in a twist sugar. Now calm down before i have to hold your ass down-"
When cramps roll around, he will just put his hand over your lower stomach. And just, leave it there? He thinks it helps you, so don't argue with him or he will back off of you.
When you send him to the store, he asks you for your pussy size...
Will FaceTime you, and show you all of the options.
Gets stopped and asked for photos multiple times, so it takes him like an hour.
He ends up getting you Nutella, pads, and a menstrual cup, because he thought it looked funny. He even jokes about it being his next big product.
Offers to eat you out. Yes, while you are on your period. He is a freak. He does not mind getting his mouth bloody. I HC that he actually prefers when you are on your period, because he likes the metallic tase and smell it emits.
Wont let you out of his sights during this time. He will let you lay on top of him while you two watch your favorite show. And he will hand feed you the chocolate and say,
"Heres comes the choo choo train cutie 😙"
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Lucifer 👑:
He knows a lot about the menstrual cycle and how it works. He was very attentive to Lilith during their marriage.
When you get moody, he will distance himself from you, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire.
"Hey honey, I just wanted to check in on you, see how you were doing, you know-"
When you have cramps, he hates seeing you in pain, so he will heat up a heating pad and rest it on your stomach.
When you send him to the store, he goes in a disguise. He will call you and ask what specific products you want.
He ends up getting you strawberries, chocolate, medicine, etc.
He treats you like you are sick. Will force you to stay in bed under his supervision.
Will also offer to eat you out. He just wants to make you feel better, and he is an expert.
He will spoon-feed you medicine, and turn on your favorite show. He will snuggle up against your chest and fall asleep.
Will ask Charlie for some advice and help. He really does care for you deeply. So he just wants to make sure you are content and satisfied.
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Alastor 🦌:
Knows quite a bit about period and the menstrual cycle.
When you get moody, he will also coddle you like Mammon. Will purposely try to get you more upset. But stops after a while, since he is a gentlemen.
"My little doe, lets stop with this tantrum. Your a big girl, aren't you?
When you get cramps, he will come up behind you and trap you in a bear hug while rocking the both of you. He will do this while using his thumbs to rub your shoulders.
Instead of the store, he goes to Rosie and asks her for supplies and advice. He hates seeing you upset, so what better of a person to ask for advice from than his long time friend Rosie?
He will not want to do anything sexual with you. Not because he does not like getting bloody, (he has, and isn't afraid to.), But because he does not want to possibly hurt you.
He will try to stay near you as much as possible. He maaaay even let you touch his ears if you look up at him all nice and cute.
Tells you a story, or will turn on the radio for you to both listen to.
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katsu28 · 1 month
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for you i'd wait forever
pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)
warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!
a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx
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Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today. 
And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.
For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.
That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks. 
He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with. 
Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you. 
He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like. 
You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.
Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose. 
With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later. 
That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out. 
“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him. 
He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten. 
Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought. 
Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—” 
“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.” 
“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!” 
“Is it okay if we talk first?” 
If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs. 
“Is everything okay?” 
Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words. 
“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.” 
Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—” 
“I think we should break up.” He blurted. 
You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?” 
“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you. 
The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside. 
“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.” 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.” 
“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features. 
“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.” 
You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?” 
They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me. 
If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months. 
“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.” 
“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”
“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say. 
“Get the fuck out of my house.” 
“Y/N, I—” 
You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face. 
Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be. 
But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth. 
All because of him. 
-------
Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one. 
His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him. 
He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him. 
“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better. 
“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here. 
“I promised you I would.” 
“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship. 
“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise. 
His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.” 
He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.” 
“Humor me, Bradshaw.” 
“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.” 
His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever. 
How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it. 
“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.” 
Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Go for it.” 
“Who usually taps you out?” 
Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today. 
He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.” 
“I wanna do it.”
“What?” 
“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.” 
“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.” 
“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.” 
Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him. 
The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did. 
He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.
He was home. You were his home. 
“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.” 
Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one. 
“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—” 
“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.” 
“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.” 
“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.” 
He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.” 
“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 
“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.” 
“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.” 
“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.” 
“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady. 
“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.” 
“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”  
“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.” 
“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.” 
“From now on? Does that mean…?” 
“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”
Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it. 
Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time. 
He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”
“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.” 
“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back. 
Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.” 
The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—” 
Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—” 
“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake. 
“Hangman. Shut. Up.” 
“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!” 
“You’re the only one talking!” 
“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.” 
You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years. 
It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again. 
His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.
And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot. 
“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.
You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of. 
But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car. 
“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?” 
“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.” 
“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.” 
“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?” 
You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”
“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm. 
“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.” 
“I didn’t.” 
“So you do?” 
“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.” 
His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!” 
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notjustjavierpena · 9 months
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The Making of Ellie - Part I
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A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.
Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love
Word count: 4k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051
Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes
Baby-Making
Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down. 
His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them. 
He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets. 
It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness. 
He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello. 
There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too. 
“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.
“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.
“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.” 
“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.  
“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.
“Right,” he chuckles. 
Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could. 
“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips. 
“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.
“He building a castle or something?” You ask. 
“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”
“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable. 
“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”
“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.
You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.
Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”
“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter. 
“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.
“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.
Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”
“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.” 
“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”
“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”
“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in. 
“See ya, honey.”
The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”
Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”
“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”
“So?”
“She has practice on Thursdays.” 
“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text. 
“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”
Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.
“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now. 
“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues. 
You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”
Oh.
Oh.
It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.
Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims. 
Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.
And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.
“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.
You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”
You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.” 
He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal. 
He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you. 
“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right. 
“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right. 
“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life. 
“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”
He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.” 
“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“
You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved. 
“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”
He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed. 
He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before. 
“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become. 
“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.
You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more. 
“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”
Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”
“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again. 
“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.” 
You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”
You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly. 
“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”
Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you. 
It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy. 
“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place. 
“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”
“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”
“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.
He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat. 
“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come. 
“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body. 
“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.” 
He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.
Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil. 
“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“
“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you. 
“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees. 
Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms. 
“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his. 
“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”
“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”
“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“
Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry. 
“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”
You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”
He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back. 
“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out. 
You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”
“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs. 
“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”
Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.” 
“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step. 
When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again. 
Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it. 
He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.
Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.
.
.
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peaches-creek · 4 months
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“What if they don’t like me.” You say.
“They have begged me for months for a day like this, do not worry my love.”
“So, what if they finally meet me and they-“
“They will love you, just as I do.” He interrupts.
As you walk up the stone walkway leading into Konig’s childhood home, you can’t help but feel insecure. You have been dating for a little over a year, and have a small apartment off base together. You haven’t met them yet due to busy work schedules. Though you did feel as though you were putting it off, you couldn’t help but felt as time passed that they must resent you, keeping their son away from them for so long. You walk up to the door and Konig gives three loud knocks to the white-painted wooden door.
Now you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but with the way Konig explained his mother, you would’ve thought she was a tiny old lady. He had said his parents were a bit older, having him in their late thirties, making them around 65-70 years old. He mentioned two siblings, a brother who lives in the states, and a younger sister who lives at home. His father and mother owned a bakery in town, right near a church. He worked there when he was a teenager.
Anyways, as the door opens, you have to look up to greet her. She had to be about 6’2, with grayish blonde hair, and just the right amount of wrinkles that tell you she has lived a happy life.
“Hallo! You must be the girl I hear so much about. Come in, come in, we have so much to show you.” She greets, guiding you inside, she seems like one of the nicest women you have ever met, she looks young for her age.
The house is beautiful, everything looks handcrafted. Then you see his father and realize Konig gets his height from his mother, his father couldn’t be only taller than 5’8
“How do you like your tea?” He asks.
“Milk and sugar please.”
For the next hour, you will see countless albums of baby Konig, kid Konig, and even awkward phase Konig. All so adorable and dorky. His mother is nothing but kind, asking you questions about yourself and seeming genuinely interested. His father is more quiet, but he has this kind smile that just rests on his face, you can see it as he catches up with his son. It was a wonderful afternoon.
“So you two live together?” His mother asks. Konig and his father were outside, talking about their garden.
“Just a small apartment off base, not too far from here actually.” You say.
“That’s nice, it seems very serious between you two.”
“Well it is to me, your son means the world to me.”
“That’s a very refreshing thing to say to a mother you know,” she starts, “I was always so worried about him, He is very hard on himself, I was even more worried when he joined the military.”
“He is very good at his job I hope you know, I worry as well but he is very diligent and precise.” You soothe
The front door jingles as if a key were being used. In walks in a woman, about the same size as your boyfriend. About 6’9, same red hair, and same sweet smile.
“Hello.” You greet.
“Ah, it’s very nice to meet you.” She says giving your hand a firm shake. She sits down at the table right across from you.
“Yes, I agree.” You say.
“So how did you to meet?”
“We met through work, I’m a medic.”
“Yes, I met her when she had to give me a few stitches,” Konig interrupts, walking back inside, “She was very gentle compared to the rest of the medics that work there.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.” You say.
“I disagree, anyways she didn’t actually talk to me until we were on a job, She had to reset my knee, again very gentle.”
“As gentle as a person can be while pushing a bone back into its place.”
“You seem very accident prone, my son.” His father adds.
“Yes, he is, I think he does it on purpose.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Konig says.
“When did you get the courage to ask her out.” His sister asks.
“She had to ask, I was very nervous and backed down many times. She asked if I liked tea, to which I said yes, and then she asked if we could go get some the following morning, I said yes.”
“Very romantic.” His mother gushes.
The afternoon turns to evening and it’s time to go back to your apartment.
“It was very nice to meet you all, I don’t know why I was so nervous, you guys are so lovely.”
“Come back anytime, I can teach you how to bake strudel.” His mother offers.
“I would really like that.”
You exchange goodbyes and get into Konig’s truck.
“Wasn’t so bad, now was it?” He points out.
“No, it was awesome Your family is so kind, I see where you get it from.”
He grins, and continues driving.
What you didn’t know, was that his mother slipped his grandmothers ring in his hand before you guys left.
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yesimwriting · 3 months
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there's something about bestfriend!felix who has never had to restrain himself when it comes to feelings, who can't stand letting that much feeling just sit inside of him with nowhere to go.
he learns to hold it all in because feeling that deeply attached to one person isn't something he's used to, so it's a little confusing and hard to label, and maybe he's a little prone to commitment issues. but the main thing that keeps him from saying anything is the importance of the bond the two of you have created.
it's a kind of connection he's never had before, a trust and understanding that he's extremely protective of. so he doesn't say anything.
so he compromises with himself, allowing his affection to bleed into your friendship as much as the confines of a platonic relationship will allow. part of it is to satiate the need to be closer to you, and the rest of it is because he doesn't want anyone to think you're not his.
he's never been one to share, so he makes it as clear as he can that you're off limits.
when the two of you go out, he's even touchier than usual. some of it's the drinking and atmosphere, but most of it is because he can. you're close enough to leave giggly kisses against each other other's cheeks, hands, shoulders, necks. whatever's easiest to reach. he'll pull an arm around you to guide you through a crowded bar because you'll let him without hesitation.
and if felix catton constantly being all over you isn't enough to ward off every guy at oxford, he has nothing against appearing at your side and placing a hand around your waist. it doesn't matter if the guy is in the middle of a sentence or if you're saying something, you'll stop everything to immediately greet felix.
it's a subtle possessiveness that extends beyond just nights out. if you two are studying in the library with a group of friends, you're sitting next to him. if you're out to dinner with a group, he's mentioning inside jokes and topics of conversation that he knows you're interest in to make sure that he's your favorite.
if felix can't be your boyfriend, he's going to be your favorite person. he's not your friend, he's your best friend. a title that he makes sure to emphasize constantly. if you introduce him to someone as your friend, he's quick to teasingly correct you. thought i was your best friend.
he also uses the term to justify any hints of jealousy, and to get his way. if you're spending more time with a different friend (girl, boy, it doesn't matter), he's pouting a little when you finally do see him. if you notice and start expressing concern, he'll admit to it. "surprised you had time to notice anything about me." and when you're, rightfully, confused, he continues, "you're spending all your time with them, and i'm supposed to be your best friend."
sometimes, if its gone on for a significant amount of time, he'll start to think that maybe he's actually mad at you. it isn't fair, but felix can't help it. he'll do anything for you, and you're replacing him with someone that can't care about you the way he does.
but then you'll look at him, all wide eyed and exuding genuine shock at the thought of felix ever not being your best friend. you'll coddle him as much as he'll let you. he'll try to put up a hard exterior, but he's melting and letting it go almost immediately.
----
a short blurb to tide you all over and help me think through a request bc i wanted to finish writing it today but had to do a ton of homework instead <3
almost didn't post this bc the purpose of it was for me to work on characterization in a low stakes way after using up all of my mental but then decided why not!
a fuller, better developed version of this is coming soon 😭
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains
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theemporium · 3 months
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jealous max and/or jealous trouble!!!
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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You were barely gone a few minutes before someone took your seat.
It wasn’t often you attended these events, mostly due to the fact it wasn’t often that Max liked to actually accept the invitation for them. But this one was mandatory and Christian had made it clear that he expected Max to make an appearance, and even dragged you into it too before Max tried to use Auggie as a scapegoat out of the event. 
So, against his better judgement, Max dusted off the same suit he wore to these events and splurged a stupid amount on a dress for you because, “if I have to attend this stupid event, at least give me something pretty to stare at, Trouble”. 
You had been sat in the seat beside him the whole night, trying your hardest to not laugh at the snarky comments he was whispering in your ear about other guests. You happily sat off to the side as a multitude of guests approached him because he was Max Verstappen and he was one of the most desired men in the room. 
You had squeezed his knee and muttered about going to the bathroom whilst he was finishing up a conversation with Christian and a potential sponsor, thinking nothing of it.
Except when you returned, some leggy model was in your seat. 
From the way Max was talking enthusiastically and moving his hands in wild motions, you knew he was talking about racing. You knew she had probably used it as a way to get into conversation with him. A part of you wanted to snort if she thought that was going anywhere when Max could talk to a brick wall about racing with how passionate he was.
And bless his heart, Max didn’t notice her ulterior motives. He didn’t think anything of someone discussing racing with him. He didn’t notice the way she laughed a little too hard or kept flicking her hair over her shoulder or the way her hand kept inching closer and closer to his on the table. 
You had no reason to doubt Max, but it didn’t stop a bitter feeling bubbling in your stomach—an urge to remind her that Max wasn’t interested. 
You made your way back towards the table with a sense of purpose in your stride. You didn’t even say anything as you reached the table, not even bothering to say a word to the model as you planted yourself on Max’s lap with an ease that came from being in a familiar position. 
Max didn’t even hesitate as his arms wound around your waist, as he shifted his legs so it would be more comfortable for you. But the model thought otherwise. 
“Uh, excuse me?” She said with a strained smile as she glanced between you and Max. 
“Sorry, my seat was taken,” you stated simply, your gaze not shifting away from hers as she squirmed a little in his seat. 
Max laughed a little, seemingly to finally catch on with the situation. “I’m not complaining,” he said with a cheeky grin. 
The model didn’t say much more after that, running off soon after with some shitty excuse and her tail between her legs. You watched her with narrowed eyes, making sure she returned to whatever table she had come from before your attention shifted back to your boyfriend. 
However, his grip on your waist only tightened before you could move off as he looked up at you with an amused expression on his face. 
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he noted, sounding utterly pleased. 
“She’s lucky she didn’t touch you or I would have to break her fingers,” you replied with a simple shrug. 
Max snorted. “You’d end up in jail then, Trouble.”
“And you’d bail me out,” you retorted with an innocent smile.
“Of course I would,” he murmured before leaning up to press a quick, chaste kiss on your lips that would be deemed appropriate at an event like this—even if you were still sat on his lap. “You happen to look pretty good in orange though.”
.
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deadbeat-motel · 3 months
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ᗩᑎGEᒪ ᗪᑌᔕT ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ
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Me going talky-talky below the cut
I wanted to redesign this guy the most because of so many issues I have with his actual design, namely:
The suit is a travesty.... for both his background as a hypersexual porn actor and a previous mafia member. It does not read well as a good design for an Italian mobster of the 1920s. Do you really not think he would rock a pinstripe? I mean come on, those three horizontal lines on his suit look really tacky to me. You should've taken that pinstripe suit from Sir Pentious and given it to him instead. and not only that but it doesn't even read well as a porn actor who has no qualms about being sexualized and pretty much even revels in it. why does the suit basically cover him up like a conservative politician? come on, let him show off a bit more.
WHY A BOWTIE??? WHY??? A SIMPLE GOOGLE SEARCH WILL SHOW YOU THAT A NECKTIE WAS MORE IN FASHION DURING THAT TIME RATHER THAN A BOWTIE. The bowtie was something that pissed me off so much about the design.
He's not a very good spider design. the only thing about him that looks remotely spider-like is that he has those eye dots under the eyes and the many limbs.... nothing else. not the very large abdomen or the actual 4 pairs of limbs a spider is supposed to have. Not even a web pattern on him like Spiderman who embodies "spider" more than him.
YOU TOOK THE FLOOF OFF OF HIM??? THE ICONIC FLOOF???? unacceptable. In retaliation, I'm giving it back bigger than ever you coward!
Anyways, here's the thought process I went through with this design:
He needed to embody his Mafia/porn addict themes through his clothing so I went with an outfit that looks like a slutty Halloween costume of a mobster. Plus it would have also differentiated him from his family who most likely would've had a stronger Mafia vibe than he did.
Gave him a tiny little hat too because i thought it looked cute.
I remember hearing that Angel Dust's most iconic part was his head's unusual shape, so I decided to keep it on him but tweaked it a little bit with his hair covering the other half of his face. (This was for some kind of lore reason, maybe he's insecure about his heterochromia, That's where he was shot and has an X over it, or his eyes are malformed on that side, still thinking about it)
Originally was going to have matching black gloves for his arms too but then it was harder to see what was his arm or leg so I let him have nothing instead to keep the pairs of limbs separated
Gave him some hoop rings too because why not let a bad bitch have one?
I've seen necktie cat collars go around earlier and thought it would fit well for Angel Dust considering I didn't give him a shirt and that i took off his choker as well.
Aside from a MASSIVE flooff, I also gave him a massive spider "butt" with the missing pair of limbs. I decided to make it legs because honestly, It's much harder to think of how he would emote naturally with 6 arms. Plus it was interesting to think about how a 4 legged bipedal would work. Immediately my first thought went to Squidward Tentacles from both the show and the musical but then it wouldn't work because of the complexity of the legs. It's main purpose now is to both hold up the large spider "butt" and be his self-defense when being approached from behind.
Originally was going to have those big ass claw things on his mouth (I'm most likely wrong but the 'chelicerae' thing?) but thought it would clutter the design too much and because there was a big possibility that Val probably ripped them off of him when he had bitten once, if not multiple times, in self-defense.)
I'll probably talk about him more when he pops up in an episode I'm going to go in-depth about or give him his own dedicated rant about how Vivziepop treated his story.
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retroellie · 4 months
Text
NSFW Alphabet w/ Spencer Reid
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Summary: NSFW alphabet w/ spenice poo
A/N: Ovbiosuly i have to introduce a new character with an NSFW alphabet... it's become my thing yall I know. Also, i wanted this one to be like spencer in the earlier seasons because I'm a whore for him then.
Warnings: NSFW, BDSM, pegging, loss of virginity, Sub!Spencer Reid
Word count: 3.8K
A= Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Dr Spencer Reid is a sweetheart and we all know this, so obviously he's going to be the sweetest boy after. The first couple of times y'all have sex, he's kind of awkward afterward... like he feels weird about the fact he was just inside of you and now he has to talk to you like nothing happened. Eventually, he warms up to it and gets better at taking care of you. Now he always makes sure he has a soft rag and some water in his nightstand so when you stay over he doesn't have to get up. To be completely honest though, he's the one who needs the aftercare...
B=body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
He likes your boobs, like really likes your boobs. He likes them because they're just so versatile, you know? Like he can lay his head on them while you read to him, he can stick his dick in between them, he can suck on them... I mean, what more can this boy need?!?!? Mostly he likes how he can still see them when you guys are in public, maybe not in their entirety but he loves when you wear low-cut shirts. You do it on purpose sometimes, just to see him squirm in his seat while trying to go over statistics on a case. But overall, Spencer just really likes your body. It's just one of those things that Spencer doesn't have to think about or understand, it was just so easy to fall in love with it.
Spencer doesn't really like his body, I feel like he's a very insecure person. He thinks he's too scrawny, too thin, and extremely out of shape. You try to tell him that he's perfect but he can't get over his insecurities. If he did have to choose, it would be his mouth, if he's good for anything... it's for talking and giving mind-blowing head.
C=Cum (anything to do with cum)
Spencer has the worst pull-out game ever, I mean seriously. It's mostly because he just loves cumming with you. The way he'll be deep inside you, literally inside your guts... then he just releases it all into you and watches as your face controls into pure pleasure. He loses all control when you cums, his vision goes white and the only thing he can think of is how pretty you look on his cock.
You had to go on birth control because you couldn't deny Spencer Reid of his favorite thing to do, plus he went on this rant about how birth control is better than condoms because condoms can break blah blah blah. You knew it was simply because he wanted to cum inside you... and it felt way better without a condom.
D=dirty secret
Spencer Reid loves to research things alright... so obviously he has watched massive amounts of porn for research purposes. At first, he tried to tell himself it was for profiling purposes, he needed to know what every kink was so he was able to apply it when needed... well, then it turned into more of his own interest. He wanted to know what he liked, especially when he met you. I mean he's watched almost everything, BDSM, humiliation, sadism, choking, slapping, even pissing. A lot of those things he found he didn't enjoy, but he's honestly found some stuff that makes his face heat up at the thought of it. What's even weirder about this is that Spencer has never jacked off to any of it, to him... it is completely for research.
E=experience (How experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
You were his first and he hopes you are his last :). He hasn't even really kissed anyone before you. However, as said above, Spencer has done a lot of research so he definitely knows what he's doing. But porn is completely different than the real thing so he was confused that it didn't go how he expected it to go. What's really nice about Spencer is that he has an eidetic memory, so if something makes your toes curl once... he can do it over and over and over again the exact same way which honestly makes him seem so much more experienced than he actually is.
F=Favorite position
He loves it when you ride him. Not only does he get the perfect view of your boobs and your face, but he loves letting you take control. I feel like Spencer is a bottom so he enjoys the feeling of you towering over him, taking everything you need, and controlling if he gets to cum or not.
He also loves taking you from the back but not in the way you would think. He likes being able to lean against something and you do all the work, like you thrust yourself back on him. He likes that so when you get too tried or frustrated, he can help you fuck yourself on him. Also, I feel like Spencer would like to be experimental with positions, especially since he knows almost all of them from his extensive research. So he tries to switch it up and try new positions every once in a while.
G= Goofy (Are they serious at the moment or are they humorous?)
Everything spencer does is goofy as fuck, so sex is not a serious thing for yall. You can't do anything without spencer shooting out some statistics which makes you laugh, cause his dick could be down your throat and he'd talk about how "43% percent of women say they like giving oral more than receiving it." Sometimes you have to show his face between your own legs to get him to shut up. In short, spencer has to be serious all day at the BAU, so coming home and having to seriously fuck you is just not something he wants to do. He's gonna have some fun with it.
H= Hair (How groomed are they down there?)
Spencer is a bit of a germaphobe, he doesn't like to shake people's hands for god sake. He is definitely either clean-shaven or very well-groomed. He makes sure to clean his junk thoroughly, again with the whole bacteria and germ blah blah... You get it, he just feels more clean if he's groomed well down there.
As for you, I feel like he's gonna care if you're shaved down there or not. I mean he's obviously still going to eat your pussy even if you haven't shaved, but he does prefer you to be groomed down there. Again it's a germaphobe thing for him, but like I said... it's not the thing that determines if he'll fuck you or not.
I=Intimacy
This boy is touch starved as fuck. He usually doesn't like touch, he's scared of it if I'm being honest. So when you came along and touched him in every way possible... he craves it now. He wants to be close to you at all times when he's reading, on a case, or showering. He wants to be touching you in some way. Sex is intimate as well, especially since you were his first time. Losing his virginity was a huge thing for him, so the intimate part was important to him.
He loves the cringey romance things, I mean like buying you flowers or going on expensive dinners every anniversary or birthday. He only ever got his romance beliefs from old romance books and cheesy romance movies. He sure did know how to make you feel like a princess.
J= Jack off (Masturbation headcanons)
Spencer never really masturbated much before he met you, he never really felt that way either. Like being horny was something that he never felt, never got hard, or had a wet dream. Even while doing his research, he never popped a boner... not even once! That was until he met you, now a bus could go by and he is stiff. He can only jack off to the thought of you though, he only needs his mind and his hand to get him off when you aren't there.
I also think he likes to watch you masturbate, he's a little creep like that. Obviously, you'd know he was there, but he likes for you to pretend he's not there. He loves watching you tease yourself, moaning his name while he sits in a chair in the corner of the room. It gives him a small power rush, knowing he's getting you off without even touching you.
K= Kinks
Alright, he has quite a bit... he's a little dirty dog once you get him going. He definitely has a mommy kink definitely, I mean he has mommy issues so it is inevitable for the word mommy to slip out during sex. He says shit like "You make me feel so good mommy..." or "Can I cum mommy?" In his most pathetic voice as he whimpers so loud.
He's a kinky little fucker, to name a few...Prasing, bondage, role-playing, orgasm control, Voyeurism, humiliation. The list goes on and on. He was so embarrassed to bring them up to you starting off, he felt wrong for liking these things. You basically had to fuck it out of him but when he did, he felt so comfortable with you. Sex gets rough and a bit chaotic, but it was for you guys and you guys only so it didn't really matter. As long as you two were both comfortable and enjoying it, it didn't really matter.
L= Location (favorite place to do it)
This is where Spencer Reid lacks alright. He likes to be in his own bed when doing it, I mean he can't really afford to be too adventurous in this area. He's an FBI agent... he can't get caught doing it anywhere else. That's not to say y'all haven't done it in other places, the hotels he stays at on cases have been a regular thing for you guys, but he just doesn't feel safe doing it anywhere else but his own home.
M= Motivation (What turns them on?)
Like I said earlier, he never really got turned on before you. He always thought there was something wrong with him when it came to sex, but girl... you opened a floodgate to him. What turns him on the most is when he thinks of you. Especially if he sees something, let's say he sees a desk... he can't help but imagine bending you over it. It's just you, when you creep up on his mind randomly... he turns into putty.
He also gets so flustered and turned up to the max when you humiliate him in public, like teasing him in front of the team. He gets so sexually frustrated, hearing you joke about him in front of Morgan or teasing him with Garcia about how smart he is... especially calling him "pretty boy"... just gets him going.
N= NO (Something they wouldn’t do/ turn offs)
As an agent of the BAU, constantly around murder and gore and pure violence... Spencer is really picky about violence in the bedroom. He wants sex to be light and fun, not dark. He doesn't mind degrading or hitting... but he wants to keep it at a minimum. I mean he sees it all day, every day. So he'd just rather keep it upbeat in the bedroom, he'd much rather praise you than anything else.
That is a gray area for him, however there is something that he will never do. He hates bodily fluids, so spit and blood... etc. is just off the table for him. Not only is he around it all day, but he doesn't like the germs and bacteria it comes with.
O= Oral (Giving or receiving, skill etc.)
This man could go down on you for hours, I mean... hours. Like I feel like this man jumps up and down when you let him eat you out. This man will attempt to tease you but he gets so eager when he eats your pussy, so he always ends up letting you cum the second your orgasm comes. His favorite after-work activity is to come to the hotel or your shared apartment, pull your panties down, and eat you out like a hungry man. Not to get all psychological (I'm telling y'all I have been watching too much criminal minds lately) but I feel like it's definitely a control thing. I mean his entire life has been out of his control, his entire career is about fighting for control... so the only time he feels somewhat in control is when he goes down on you.
Spencer Reid obviously enjoys receiving as well, I mean what man doesn't like getting some head? He finds you so pretty on your knees, trying desperately to get him off which doesn't take too long for him when you're like this. Spencer just prefers giving simply because he wants to make you feel good, I mean he so desperately wants to make you feel good. Plus he's really good at it, I mean really good...
P= pace (are they fast or rough? slow or sensual?)
As said before, Spencer is eager. He is extremely fast with it, I mean to the point you have to tell him to slow down sometimes because he's going crazy. "Slow down Spence.." You moan into the pillows as your face down, ass up. "Sorry... it... you... fuck... you just feel so good" He stutters out, probably the only time spencer reid gets twisted up with his words is when he fucks you. You would have to be the one to go slow with it, you want him to feel the love in the act. You want him to understand sex doesn't have to be a scientific act, it isn't just for procreation or for the orgasm... it can be an act of love.
Q= Quickie (Their opinions on quickies)
He probably loves them more than eating you out, actually.. I wouldn't go that far. It's a close second to it. He's a busy man, always on a case or trying to finish a book. They are especially good when y'all are traveling for cases like y'all only have 8 minutes before you have to get back to work... he can make you both cum 3 times in 4. He loves long drawn-out ones too, he likes making you feel good for hours but they are rare occurrences simply because he's always getting called into the office. So honestly quickies are how y'all survive.
R= Risk (Are they okay with experimenting? do they take risks?)
He loves experimenting! Like I said before, he has done his research and he probably made a list of things he would like to try with you. He had to get comfortable first to be able to experiment, it was a long process of breaking Dr. Spencer Reid out of his shell. But now it feels like you guys are always trying new things, I mean like every time you guys have sex... Spencer asks if he can do something new to you.
As for risks, he is not for risks. If it genuinely is risky, causing harm to either one of you or something that will cause Morgan to tease him every day for?? It's off the table like I said before... His entire job is about risks, he just wants your guy's sex life to be healthy and normal.
S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Spencer can go all night. Let's be honest, it's how he stays fit. Like I said, Spencer gets horny quickly so after every orgasm he has... he's already hard again. I feel like the most rounds y'all have gone is like 8 or 9, it was all in the course of 3 hours too. Again it's a rare occurrence for you guys to have long drawn-out sessions, it mostly happens when spencer has the day off or after a case and y'all spend the day in the city the case was in. When days like this do come, spencer goes crazy and full-on out. He'll light the candles, he'll have a tub of lube, he'll have bottles of water for you guys because he knows y'all will need lots of water after.
I feel like Spencer doesn't last very long, maybe 5 minutes but like I said... he gets hard really fast and he'll edge himself over and over again just so he can make you feel good. I feel like you also help him build up his tolerance, so he slowly starts to last longer and longer. When y'all first started having sex, he couldn't last over 2 minutes... let's be honest now y'all.
T= Toys (do they have toys and who do they use them on?)
ooooh, this is a fun one because spencer reid loves experimenting, so toys are definitely something he likes. He's really into vibrators, especially when you let him watch you masturbate... he just loves watching you tease yourself with it. However, when you use vibrators on him... makes him weak in the knees, for obvious reasons but also because of the sensation of the vibrating and then your hands or pussy?!? He can't help but cum every single time without fail.
Alright y'all I know, spencer reid likes to be pegged. He went completely feral when you bought it for the first time, he begged you to destroy him with the strap. He is a bottom, he likes to be dominated... It goes without saying that he likes to be pegged. You do this thing though, where you're taking him from the back and you use a vibrator to hold his cock. You have him screaming with that move you do.
As for other toys, I feel like he has a pair of handcuffs or bondage toys laying around.
U= Unfair (how much do they tease?)
He doesn't do much teasing but you do, you tease him so much that he is begging to be fucked by the time you guys are alone. He's used to being teased by literally everyone in his life, but something about your teasing... no matter if sexual or not, never fails to make him all flustered.
His teasing isn't really teasing, to him it is but every time he tries teasing you, you end up getting so confused. He'd be like, "You look good in that shirt, it would look way better off though... You know statistically, women in shirts...". Just a very Reid thing to do. You always feed on his teasing though, you want to make him feel good about himself so you just smile and nod.
V= Volume (How loud are they?)
This mf is loud as fuck. Sometimes you have to push his face into the pillows or make him bite down on your panties because he's just so loud. He doesn't moan either, he whimpers and whines. There's a time when you love making him whimper, you encourage it actually. You love seeing his red, flustered face as he whines for you to let him cum. Then there are times, like in hotels, that you have to keep him quiet. Unfortunately, Spencer Reid doesn't do quiet. You shoving your wet panties in his mouth is a regular thing in those times, he can't complain because he loves the taste.
He is also very vocal, he loves praising and being praised. He will whimper out "Fuck... make me feel good.." or "wanna cum in you.." You always cave into his wants, I mean his little whimpers are so cute how can you not?
W- Wild card (Random headcanons)
We all know that spencer reid loves books and statistics, so he will definitely multitask when fucking you. He loves when he's at his desk at home and you come in, wearing nothing but one of his sweaters. You'll crawl down on your knees and suck him off under the desk. You force him to do work as you make him cum, over and over and over. He also likes it when you cockwarm him, asking him questions about the case and if he messes up or stutters... you snap your hips down and make him whine. One time, when you were riding him in his office chair... he was reading a book, like an old literature book. "Are you reading right now?" You asked him, confused because like what? and he replied. "yeah... it's okay, you can keep going. I'll be done in a minute." He smiled so innocently, you wanted to fuck him harder after that.
Also, he uses his statistics to make you feel good, he read in a college textbook about female anatomy that girls like their nipples played with during sex so he tried it on you. You had no idea you liked that until Spencer Reid started pinching them. He'll also tell you the statistics while doing it, which I think is kinda funny. "Statistically, 76% of women have never stimulated they're g-spot," He says as he thrusts up, hitting yours perfectly.
X= X-ray (What’s going on in their pants)
Spencer Reid is a very scrawny and skinny man, so I know he is packing. He's probably a little over average, not too much but enough to make you nervous if you'll be able to take it all. He has a very pretty dick too, very well-groomed and very clean. He doesn't have much girth too, but honestly, size doesn't matter.
Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive)
Very high sex drive, that's why quickies are so important to him. He didn't really understand Morgan's obsession with women at first until he actually had sex... now he always wants to be inside of you. He begs a lot too, if he's horny... all he will do is beg and plead for you to touch him. "Spencer we just got here, settle down." You scold him as he tries to get you to the private bathroom. "Please y/n... you look so pretty in your dress and... it's making my stomach hurt." Eventually, spencers whining gets you all hot and heavy, and you end up fucking him in the bathroom.
Z= ZZZ (How quick do they fall asleep after?)
Spencer passes out after his balls are empty and he is worn out from everything. Like I guess anyone would be exhausted after 7 to 9 rounds of desperately trying to get off. Not only but he has a very mentally and physically exhausting job, so he's out like a light as soon as his head hits the pillow. 
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rabbitblackx · 8 months
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Hi! How are you? I hope you're doing well :D
So I have an idea I've thinking about
Since my dream job is to be a psychologist, I thought about how slashers would react to their s/o working as a psychologist / psychotherapist (for Michael, Brahms, Freddy and Jason please)
Thanks in advance
Have a good day / night!
Hope ur doing well too! :) sorry for the wait I’ve been a bit busy and uninspired, but things are starting to look up! Have a great day xoxo
Slashers with a Psychologist!Reader
Includes: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger and Brahms Heelshire
Michael Myers💖
Michael hated you at first. Well, it wasn’t much different now. He… now tolerated you…? At best? Anyway, he hated how you overanalysed every little thing he did. It was hard not to, seeing how beyond batshit he was
Like, how dare you try to make Michael feel better?! >:( That was the worst thing you could do to him! You reminded him of Loomis. Although, you were way more attractive… and cute… and sexy
Michael didn’t want to like you, but there was just something about you. He was always gonna be a bad guy, but you somehow bettered him. He was instantly more calm in your presence and even your home. Your furnishings and belongings were purposely placed to give the space a peaceful vibe
If you were lucky, Michael could really fall apart on you. He had his head in your lap, completely motionless. You were worried he was about to die or something, but no… you just made him feel
Jason Voorhees💖
Jason didn’t believe in your therapy. He dismissed and brushed off any words of comfort you gave him. There was nothing you could’ve said that would make him not feel the way he did. He kept you around though… maybe just because he liked the sound of your voice
Sometimes your wise words stuck with Jason when he was by himself. He was kicking himself for it, but maybe you were right? Perhaps your therapy made him feel better?
When Jason was angry, he used to break things. Now, he sat across from you and listened to you talk. You gently praised him for doing so, proud at how far he had come
Jason found himself craving your presence more and more. You made him feel okay. You may have thought he was becoming codependent, but he didn’t care. Your caring words and methods made him latch onto you
Freddy Krueger💖
No, no, no. Don’t try and overanalyse a bunch of bullshit about Freddy. That didn’t work on him. At least that was what he told himself. He acted like your wise words and kindness had no affect on him, but he grumbled about how sweet you were to himself later
Your dreams were Freddy’s favourite. Amazingly, they were no nightmares. It was just the two of you in the comfort of your office. He found the way you sat so straight in your chair, the way you focused hard on jotting down your notes… so cute
Freddy wasn’t too keen on telling you about his problems. He was much more interested in just looking at you. Sexy, smart you… he could’ve just eaten you up
It was pretty obvious, but Freddy tried to get you to hug or hold him often. He was a pretty bad actor, begging you for sympathy. You felt none, but still snuggled him anyway. You told him he was touch starved, and he hated that. Truth hurt
Brahms Heelshire💖
Brahms sat obediently across from you in the living room. He listened to every word you said, shyly nodding along when necessary. He had a long way to go, but you could really of made a difference on him
You wouldn’t give up on Brahms, and he loved you for that. You told him often that you were sticking with him, and that you would never leave. It was music to his ears. It was all he ever wanted
You could make him cry sometimes. Not on purpose, just when talking about touchy subjects. Brahms didn’t mind though, because you always cuddled up and gave him a hug. And as he cried on your shoulder, he realised that you were his whole world
Brahms had serious issues that you knew needed to be dealt with. It was just so hard to have the heart. He was clinging to you, tearfully begging you to stay and take care of him forever. How could you say no? How could you distance yourself? You never had a patient that tore you apart as much as this man
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hoejosatoru · 5 months
Text
Off Limits
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bonten!Ran Haitani
Summary: Your older brother, Mikey, forbids any of his subordinates from putting their hands on you. Naturally, Ran takes that as a challenge.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: Alcohol mentioned, drugging mentioned (reader not drugged), oral (fem! receiving), fingering, raw sex, cream pie, Mikey is an over protective brother, guns, pet names like angel, sugar, pretty girl, etc I think that's it? kind of an abrupt ending bc I'm silly like that
It was a boring day for Ran Haitani. Well, if you consider hunting rival gang members down and beating information out of them dull like Ran does. As much as he loves his job, the thrill of seeing another man's fear, feeling his fist connect with deadly precision, sometimes it was a bit monotonous. All work and no play makes Ran Haitani a dull boy and such.
He thought he'd fix this with a trip to Bonten's strip - no gentlemen's club. He could hear Koko yelling at him in his head for, 'lessening the value of their asset' by not using some euphemism. Ran didn't think it mattered much. Men just wanted to see women take their clothes off; they didn't care what it was called.
Usually going to the gentlemen's club made him feel better, but even this was feeling dull to him today. He's already fucked all the girls he had an interest in. Some of them multiple times. And they were great, sure, but he nothing that could spark his interest now. He needed fresh blood, so to speak.
Then you walked in. Ran had been idly drumming his fingers along the dark mahogany of the bar top, half listening to Rindou and Sanzu drone on about the days' events. His fingers halted the moment he saw you, straightening up and zeroing in. He'd never seen you before, he would have remember that face... that body. Were you a new hire? He wondered... No it couldn't be. The execs ran background checks on all the women in the club, which fell to Ran or his brother to do. No way you slipped through the cracks.
A prickle of anger flared through him as he wondered if you were dating one of the execs. He couldn't image one of the guys dating a woman like you and not bragging about it though. Maybe a patron's girl? You seemed to be looking for someone. Ran smiled. He could be a helpful guy, take you to your boyfriend... and then put a hit out on him. He didn't play fair, but he always played for keeps.
"Shit, who's that?" Rindou piped up behind him. Ran stifled a wave of possessiveness rushing through him. If he made it too obvious how bad he wanted you, this would become a contest he didn't want. At least Rindou's response to you confirmed that he didn't know you, so you couldn't be a dancer.
"Dunno," Ran shrugged, "But looks like she could use some help."
Sanzu rolled his eyes. "Since when do you care about helping random women."
Ran knocked back the rest of the whisky in his glass. "What can I say, I am a feminist." Sanzu and Rindou groaned at him, but his back was already to them making a beeline towards you. The closer he got, the more he was taken by you. You were so beautiful, but you also looked more nervous that he originally appraised. Maybe you were truly just lost. Wrong place, right time - for Ran at least.
"Hi," Ran said, mustering all the calmness in his voice he could manage. You looked him up and down, your pulse quickening - and not because you were nervous. The man standing before you was one of the finest you'd ever laid eyes on. But you couldn't let that distract you from your purpose here. "Haven't seen you around here before, are you lost?"
You shook your head. "No, I'm... looking for someone." You were vague, not sure of who this man was and not willing to trust anyone but who you were looking for.
"Oh? Well I'm one of the owners here," Ran replied casually, though he was dying to know who you were here for. "Maybe I could help you out?" His words sparked recognition in you, he could see it in how your eyes widened.
He's an owner? That mean he must know... "My brother, I'm looking for my brother." You felt the tiniest rush of relief that you bumped into someone who could truly help you.
Brother. Ran couldn't help but smile. This was the best case scenario; there was not issue of competition there. "And who's that, sweetheart?"
"Mikey."
"Mikey?" But it wasn't his own voice that verbalized his surprised. He whipped around, irritated to find Sanzu and Rindou followed him. Sanzu was shocked by the mention of the boss's name. Ran couldn't deny he was surprised too; he had no idea Mikey had a sister.
"Since when did Mikey have a sister?" Rindou questioned.
Sanzu scowled. "I knew it," he snapped, "But I didn't know it was her." Of course Sanzu, Mikey's little dog, would be privy to that information. But even he had never laid eye on you before, he simply was just aware a sister existed. "You're not supposed to be here," his comment pointed right at you.
"I know, I know," you replied quickly. Mikey was very clear to you that you were supposed to stay far away from his... line of business. "But it's an emergency. These guys came to my job and I- they were looking for me." You shivered at the memory of your close call.
Sanzu's eyes widened. Ran could practically hear the gears turning in his head: how was he going to use this as an opportunity to further win Mikey's favor? Ran rolled his eyes, as if Sanzu needed to do any more ass kissing.
"Did anyone follow you here?" Sanzu demanded.
"No - I don't think so," you replied. "Please can't I just talk to Mikey?"
"C'mon Sanzu, you're scaring the poor girl," Ran interjected. If Sanzu could use the situation to his benefit, so could he. "Even if someone did follow her, we'll handle it. Let's just get her to Mikey." He gave you an assuring smile that caused a blush to rise in your cheeks. Ran didn't miss it, of course, savoring the soft little smile you returned to him.
Sanzu didn't argue, telling you to follow him instead. He led the way, weaving through the tables where patrons sat. Ran and Rindou took up the rear behind you, following to Mikey's private room at the club. Ran gave a particularly nasty look to one man who stared at you a beat too long.
"Did you know Mikey had a sister?" Rindou whispered to Ran.
"No."
"Interesting."
Ran smiled, this was exactly the type of fun he needed. "Very."
Sanzu opened the door to Mikey's office. He was sitting alone at his desk, a whiskey in his hands as he looked through a pile of papers. His eye flicked up, annoyed at the intrusion until he saw you. He jumped out of his seat. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" he was half between anger and concern.
You rushed past Sanzu to your brother. Ran leaned against the closed door, eager to see how this played out. "I'm so sorry Mikey I- I know I'm not supposed to be here," the words tumbled out of you. "But there were men looking for me. I got scared."
Mikey's eyes darkened. "Tell me exactly what happened."
You sat down, realizing how badly you were shaking. You'd come here on pure adrenaline and now it was wearing off. You explained to Mikey how you had been in the back of the bakery where you work, when you heard a gruff voice asking for you. Well, it was really more like demanding. At first you had been afraid you fucked up someones order, but when you caught a peak at the 2 men looking for you you knew instantly they were not looking costumers.
Thankfully, they hadn't seen you and your coworker had the good sense to insist you were not working today. It took some convincing, but they finally left. You lied to your coworker and said you had a crazy ex. But really, you knew the symbol on their jackets was one your brother warned you of. A rival gang. And somehow, despite Mikey's best efforts to keep you far away from his lifestyle, they found you.
"You swear you weren't hurt?" Mikey questioned, softening now that he understood why you were here.
"I'm okay I promise, just a little shaken up," you replied, "I don't know what I'm gonna do about work."
"You're going to quit," Mikey state, shooting you a look when you balked. "I should have known something like this would happen. You got really fucking lucky today, y/n. If they had gotten to you... I don't even want to think about it. You have to stay close to me. Under my protection, there is no other way."
"But my coworkers could be in danger," you replied, sad at the thought of never getting talk shit about rude costumers while kneading dough again.
"I'll have my guys watch the shop for a few weeks to make sure it's safe. And tell me the name of the girl who had your back. I'll make sure she gets compensated," Mikey replied. Before you could protest, Mikey returned his attention to the men behind you. "Sanzu, get everyone to the meeting room. We need to discuss this immediately."
Sanzu slipped out obediently. Mikey eyed the two remaining men suspiciously, particularly the taller one. "And who do I have to thank for finding her?"
The taller one, Ran you believed his name was, smiled. "That would be me boss."
Mikey's jaw tightened. "Of course." He didn't express gratitude as you expected, but Mikey was not the most warm and fuzzy person. "You two can go wait in the meeting room. I'll be there shortly." They both nodded and slipped out wordlessly. You noticed, though, Ran eyes scan you one last time, which made your heart stutter in your chest.
Mikey instructed you to stay in his office while he went into the next room to have a meeting with his executives. "Don't worry, the club is guarded by my men, you're safe here. I'm gonna make sure everything works out, okay y/n?"
You nodded. You trusted your brother completely. Mikey squeezed your arm in attempt to be comforting before exiting the room. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the headache that was dealing with subordinates.
Despite the short amount of time lapsed, all his executives were there waiting. At least they knew their place, he thought. Dogs who come when called. The room was much more cramped than their board room back at HQ, but it worked for when they needed it. Mikey took his spot at the head of the table.
"Most of you don't know this, but I have a sister," Mikey began, his eye shifting around the room. All the men, besides those you had already met, looked surprised and confused. Sanzu was the only person who knew of your existence prior to this. Being he was Bonten's number 2, he had to ensure someone would look after you should anything happen to him.
"I've kept her secret from everyone because I didn't want her to be in danger. But somehow our rivals have found out about her," Mikey stopped, swallowing his anger as the weight of the situation hit him. "We are going to find the men looking for her and we are going to fucking kill them. All of them. Destroy their gang one member at a time if we have to."
The men nodded along, Sanzu particularly eagerly. He always excited at the thought of bloodshed.
"You're all to guard her with your life," Mikey continued, "I'll be working on a schedule for everyone to take turns keeping an eye on her while the rest of us continue work as usual."
"What if you bring her to work?" Koko asked. Mikey's brow furrowed, but he continued. "Our headquarters is secret and there always a bunch of us around. That's gotta be safer than just one of us at an apartment. And then you don't have to worry about shifts."
Leave it to Koko to find a way to be more efficient. Mikey debated it. On one hand he had a good point; it was probably safer to have you surrounded by more people. And then Mikey would alway be around at work and when you went home. Because he was definitely making you move in with him, at least until he was sure there weren't any active threats against you. But at HQ you'd in the middle of his business and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Plus there were other concerns he had...
"I think that's a good idea," Ran piped up.
"I agree," Takeomi said, cigarette hanging from his mouth.
Of course they like the idea. Mikey wasn't an idiot, he knew you were a pretty girl. He's seen the way men look at you and being a man himself, he knows what those looks mean. It makes him sick to his stomach. It's not that he is some control freak that would say you're not allowed to date anyone, but he has high standards when it comes to who should be allowed to date you. And this lot of men don't even come close. They were great employees, cunning and devious, but he wouldn't want their hands on you. Having you around would be like throwing blood in shark infested waters.
Still, he couldn't deny it HQ would be the safest place for you to be. Mikey sighed. "Alright, you're right Koko," he replied, acknowledging only his white haired subordinate. Had it been anyone else who suggested it he may have said no, but Mikey trusted Koko not to have ulterior motives. He wasn't so obsessed with getting women in his bed like the others. "But there will be rules. Her safety is the number one priority. I'll expect you all to take a bullet for her if needed."
No one objected. Signing on to Bonten meant being willing to take a bullet for Mikey. What was one more person?
"And no one fucking touches her," Mikey stated, looking every single one of them in the eyes so they'd recognize the weight of his words. "If you do, I'll put a bullet in you."
Ran's lips twitched ever so slightly. He couldn't say he was surprised, but he was still amused. He was a man who loved a challenged and Mikey just made this all the more fun for him.
***
Moving in and working with Mikey was not as bad as you thought it would be. Mikey's "apartment" was more like a penthouse and did not make you miss your shabby little apartment at all. You had been worried about privacy, but you had your own room and bathroom down the hall and he gave you space when you needed it. You were actually liking the arrangement, getting to spend more time with your brother than you had in a while.
Even going to work with him wasn't so bad. At first he expected you to just sit around all day, but you insisted on doing something while you were there. He was very wary of it, not wanting you to get too involved in his way of life, but eventually allowed you to do some small stuff. You cleaned up a bit, made coffees, helped organize some old files. Simple stuff.
Then you discovered the HQ had a kitchen. It was little, but Mikey was more than happy to buy all the gadgets you needed to make it functional. Since then you spent your days baking, the thing you missed most. It worked out perfectly, it kept you busy with work Mikey deemed safe and the guys got fed delicious pastries. Everyone was happy.
In fact, you were surprised by how much you were enjoying this. There was still an element of fear knowing that the bad guys knew who you were and sure you got frustrated you couldn't go out with friends, but you did like going to work Mikey.
There was another reason you enjoyed going to Bonten HQ with Mikey so much. Ran Haitani. The attraction you felt towards him the first time you saw him has only grown. He charmed you with ease, like he wasn't even trying. Ran, of course, was trying. Specifically he was trying to make his flirtatiousness seem as casual as possible, as to not upset Mikey. He loved testing the limits, seeing what he could get away with.
"What're you making, sugar?" Ran asked as he entered the kitchen. He'd started calling you that nickname after you started supplying the execs with endless sweets. From anyone else you would think it was corny, but from Ran and it made your heart skip.
"Peanut butter brownies," you replied, taking in his appearance. He was always dressed well, but today he looked particularly good in an immaculate lavender pinstripe three piece suit. You reckoned no other man could pull it off.
He looked you up and down, a sly smile on his face. "Can't wait to get a taste." Your cheeks colored. You knew he was talking about the brownies, but the way he looked at you...
"You sure do have a sweet tooth, Ran."
"Well you're certainly hard to resist. Your baking, that is," he said with an innocent smile.
"Is there something specific you'd like to try?" you asked, returning his faux innocent banter.
Ran grinned, "I could think of something." It was then you realized the two of you had gravitated towards each other. Ran towered over you, his rich, warm scent filling your lungs.
Before you could speak, your brother's voice shattered the tension between the two of you. "Am I interrupting something?"
Ran turned, a calm smile on his face. "Nothing, boss. Y/n here was just telling me about the brownies she made. Was hoping she'd let me try 'em." He spoke so casually, nothing like the low simmer in his voice that had been pulling you in just seconds ago.
"Yeah, I bet," Mikey replied flatly. "A word alone, Ran." Mikey left without another word.
"Save a corner piece for me, they're my favorite," Ran smiled at you before slipping out of the room.
"I thought I made myself clear," Mikey stated when they were alone.
"I don't know what you're talking about, boss," Ran replied, that stupid smile still on his face. Mikey wanted to punch it off him.
"Do you think I'm stupid Haitani?" Mikey asked, his jaw tightening.
"Not at all, boss."
"Then you know that I know what you're up to," his eyes narrowed.
"I just wanted to try some bro-" Mikey cut him off by pounding the wall next to his head. Ran didn't even flinch.
"If you touch my sister you're a dead man," Mikey snapped.
Ran smiled again. "Wouldn't dream of it."
But dream he did. Hell he straight up fantasized about it. What you'd look like bent over those counters you constantly worked at, looking up at him with those pretty eyes while on your knees, how sweet you'd taste... He thought about it all. But more importantly, he planned.
Later that evening Mikey addressed the incident in the kitchen with you. "I don't like you talking to Ran."
"What? What's wrong with him?"
Mikey almost laughed. What wasn't wrong with him. "He's just..." he searched for the right word, not wanting to scare you. "An idiot."
You laughed. "All men are idiots." Mikey gave you a look, but couldn't help but smile.
"I'll ignore that comment," Mikey replied, "But he's just involved in bad shit. I don't want you getting close to people in my line of work, even the one's I trust. Plus, he only wants one thing."
You rolled your eyes. "Why do I feel like I'm about to get the birds and bees talk."
"I'm serious."
"Oh, I know you are," you half sighed, half laughed. "Like I said, all men are idiots. I know what men want, I've dealt with plenty of guys like that. I'm sure I can handle myself. Plus, he doesn't seem that bad."
"Well he is. So stay away from him," Mikey said with finality.
"What're you gonna do, kill him?" you asked, half joking.
"If I have to," Mikey replied so casually you couldn't tell if he was joking or not. You knew he would never hurt you, but you weren't blind to what your brother was capable of.
"You're way over thinking this," you replied, realizing that it would not be worth it to argue over this. "I don't see Ran like that. He's just another weirdo you work with. I'm not interested in him."
That seemed to appease Mikey. You were a better liar than you thought.
Since the day Mikey found you in the kitchen with Ran, the two of you were never alone together. Neither of you address what was going on between the two of you, but you knew he felt it. You could tell by the way he looked at you. You were certain it was not a one-sided crush. However, you were smart enough to know it could not be openly pursued.
Then, one day Ran appeared to you in the kitchen. Alone. "Mikey's out on errands."
For a half second you wondered why he was telling you this, but then it hit you. "Oh." Mikey was gone. That meant...
There was nothing more to be said. You were on each other in an instant, as if taken over by autopilot. Ran's hands felt so good on your body, already wrapping around your waist. You pulled him in by the back of his neck, desperate for more.
Ran wasn't patient in the best of times, but today? He couldn't wait another second to have you. He lifted you up on the counter with ease, pulling a half giggle half gasp from your lips. He moved skillfully, stripping your lower half without ever breaking away from the kiss until he dropped to his knees in front of you.
"Been dreaming about tasting you," he hummed against your thighs. He licked a stripe up your pussy and groaned. "So sweet. Knew you would be."
Ran buried his face between your legs. He knew he didn't have a ton of time and wasn't going to waste a second of it. His plush lips attached to your clit, making you gasp. You knotted your fingers through his lilac hair, needing something to steady yourself. His teased you, pressing against your aching entrance.
"Fuck Ran," you gasped, hooking your thighs over his shoulders and locking him against. Ran loved it, the feeling of your plush thighs pressed against him, how desperate you sounded. He needed to see you completely fall apart.
Ran slipped a finger into your throbbing hole and returned to sucking at your clit. You gripped his hair so tightly it made his scalp ache, but that only egged him on more. The feeling of his fingers curling inside you and his tongue lapping at your clit was too much for you. Your body shuddered as came, moaning his name. Ran savored every second, not pulling away until he was sure you were completely finished.
He stood up, about to kiss you again when his phone went off. He checked it, cursing when he saw Rindou's message. "Mikey's on his way back," He practically groaned. Ran almost laughed at how you pouted.
"I want you so bad."
"I know sugar, believe me," his eyes flicked down to the tent in his pants, making your eyes widen. "But if you're brother kills me before I get to fuck you then we're both shit outta luck." He gave a quick kiss. "Promise I won't make you wait too long." And with that he was gone.
***
It had only been two weeks, but it felt like an eternity. You thought there had been a lot of tension before you hooked up, but now it was down right unbearable. You both seemed to be avoiding each other, not because you didn't want to see each other, but because you couldn't trust yourselves not to pounce on each other. The few times you were in the same room together were a true test of endurance.
The way Ran looked at you drove you wild. His eyes would scan your body in a way that would seem casual to anyone else, but you could feel him undressing you, thinking of all the ways he would ravish you. It made your heart race and your knees buckle. Ran had one hell of a poker face, but the glint in his eyes told you that he too was dying to get his hands on you.
By the time a month passed, you were wondering if Ran was ever going to make a move. Then, on a Thursday night just as you were about to head to bed you got a text.
Ran: Come get the door. Quietly
Your heart raced, wondering if you were reading it right. The door? As in the front door where you lived with Mikey? He wouldn't dare come here, not with Mikey at home. But you had to check. Your crept out of your room, pausing to listen for any signs of Mikey being awake. His room was on the opposite side of the house from yours, but you didn't dare get to close and risk waking him.
When you finally opened the door, you were shocked to see Ran standing there with a calm smile on his face, despite his text.
"What're you-"
Ran held a finger up to his lip, silencing you. "Let's talk somewhere private, yeah?" The way his eyes flicked over you, smirking at the tiny shirts and tight little tank top you wore told you he wasn't looking to just talk. This was a bad idea, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.
The next thing you knew, Ran was in your room. It was weird to see him there, in your private space. It made your stomach churn with anticipation.
"What're you doing here?" you tried again.
Ran sat on your bed, making himself comfortable. "I couldn't stay away from you any longer."
"But here? With Mikey at home?" you questioned.
"Mikey and Sanzu hang out and drink every Thursday night," Ran replied, "They always come in Friday with hangovers. I was feeling generous and bought them a few bottles of their favorite whisky for this evening. I imagine they'll both be sleeping well with how much they drank tonight." Your eyes widened as you processed his words. Ran didn't tell you that he slipped some sleeping pills in their drinks. You didn't need to know that; all you needed to know was that Mikey was very unlikely to disturb you two tonight."
"Are you saying-"
"I'm saying, if you can be quiet for me sugar, we can have some fun tonight," Ran smiled wickedly. "Whaddya say? Can you be a good girl and be quiet?"
"Yes." The words were barely past your lips when Ran pulled you on to his lap. Your straddled him, your bodies easily fitting together. You replayed Ran's kiss countless times since hooking up, but feeling it again blew your imagination away. His lips and tongue moved expertly, intoxicating you. Any concerns of getting caught fell to the wayside as your hips rolled against him, feeling hims harden under you.
In a flash, Ran had you flipped over, your hands pinned above your head. He licked his lips as he looked down at you. "God the things I would do to you if we had time." He kissed at your neck, nipping it lightly. He was careful to not leave a mark, but couldn't resist the way it made you gasp. "Promise one day I'll be able to do everything I want to you. But for now I just gotta be inside you."
You nodded eagerly, wanting to feel him in you so badly it ached. Ran practically tore your clothes off as you pawed at his. His fingers slipped between your legs, grinning smugly as he felt how slick you were. He toyed with your clit before sliding two fingers inside your tight pussy. He watched as your wriggled and gasped at him pressing your g spot.
He drank in this sight, relished the rush of having you splayed out and needy for him in Mikey's own home. Fucking you like this was the ultimate fuck you to Mikey. He could practically get off on the power trip of it alone.
Ran continued to finger you as he sucked on your tits. Your fingers tangled in his hair, scraping his scalp. He hummed in pleasure as he took your nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud as he played with your clit. The sensation grew too intense, pushing you over the edge.
You let out a moan and Ran's free hand clamped over your mouth. He secretly loved that you couldn't keep yourself quiet, but couldn't risk getting caught before he got to fuck you.
"Thought you were gonna be quiet for me?" Ran teased as you came down from your high.
"Fuck I'm sorry Ran, just felt so good," you replied breathlessly. He couldn't even pretend to be mad.
"That okay pretty girl," he replied, "But I'm gonna fuck you even better than that, so you better keep that pretty little mouth shut." You nodded eagerly, anything to get Ran inside you.
Ran stroked his long, hard cock as he spread your thighs apart more. He admiring how slick your pussy looked, his cock aching to feel you wrapped around him. He lined himself up to you, pushing in. His held fell back as his bit his lip, trying to stifle a groan.
"Fuck, angel, prepped you and you're still so fucking tight." He kept his voice low. He rolled his hips, feeling your pussy suck him. "Feels so fucking good."
You didn't trust yourself with a reply. The way Ran thrust into you made your entire body flutter with pleasure. You felt him so deep it left you breathless, his cock hitting spots in you you didn't know existed. You grabbed the back of his neck, burying your face into it. You sucked and nipped at his neck, trying to prevent yourself from crying out. The more Ran fucked you, the hotter it was to keep quiet. Your teeth sunk into the junction of his neck and shoulder and Ran relished in the sting of your bite.
"Fuck Ran," you whined against his skin as pleasure consumed your senses. Your pussy throbbed around him as you came, making his thrusts falter.
"Shit baby so good," Ran panted. His cocked twitch as he finally released, filling you with his cum. He slid out, a smug grin on his face as he watched his cum leak out of you and make a mess of your bed. He was debating if he should risk a picture when he heard the familiar metallic click of a gun cocking.
"Mikey what the fuck!" you gasped, covering yourself in your sheets, though he wasn't even looking at you. His dark, cold stare was solely on Ran as he point his gun at the lilac haired man's head.
"You're fucking dead Haitani."
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spocks-kaathyra · 8 months
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thoughts about the Cardassian writing system
I've thinking about the Cardassian script as shown on screen and in beta canon and such and like. Is it just me or would it be very difficult to write by hand?? Like.
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I traced some of this image for a recent drawing I did and like. The varying line thicknesses?? The little rectangular holes?? It's not at all intuitive to write by hand. Even if you imagine, like, a different writing implement—I suppose a chisel-tip pen would work better—it still seems like it wasn't meant to be handwritten. Which has a few possible explanations.
Like, maybe it's just a fancy font for computers, and handwritten text looks a little different. Times New Roman isn't very easily written by hand either, right? Maybe the line thickness differences are just decorative, and it's totally possible to convey the same orthographic information with the two line thicknesses of a chisel-tip pen, or with no variation in line thickness at all.
A more interesting explanation, though, and the one I thought of first, is that this writing system was never designed to be handwritten. This is a writing system developed in Cardassia's digital age. Maybe the original Cardassian script didn’t digitize well, so they invented a new one specifically for digital use? Like, when they invented coding, they realized that their writing system didn’t work very well for that purpose. I know next to nothing about coding, but I cannot imagine doing it using Chinese characters. So maybe they came up with a new writing system that worked well for that purpose, and when computer use became widespread, they stuck with it. 
Or maybe the script was invented for political reasons! Maybe Cardassia was already fairly technologically advanced when the Cardassian Union was formed, and, to reinforce a cohesive national identity, they developed a new standardized national writing system. Like, y'know, the First Emperor of Qin standardizing hanzi when he unified China, or that Korean king inventing hangul. Except that at this point in Cardassian history, all official records were digital and typing was a lot more common than handwriting, so the new script was designed to be typed and not written. Of course, this reform would be slower to reach the more rural parts of Cardassia, and even in a technologically advanced society, there are people who don't have access to that technology. But I imagine the government would be big on infrastructure and education, and would make sure all good Cardassian citizens become literate. And old regional scripts would stop being taught in schools and be phased out of digital use and all the kids would grow up learning the digital script.
Which is good for the totalitarian government! Imagine you can only write digitally. On computers. That the government can monitor. If you, like, write a physical letter and send it to someone, then it's possible for the contents to stay totally private. But if you send an email, it can be very easily intercepted. Especially if the government is controlling which computers can be manufactured and sold, and what software is in widespread use, etc. 
AND. Historical documents are now only readable for scholars. Remember that Korean king that invented hangul? Before him, Korea used to use Chinese characters too. And don't get me wrong, hangul is a genius writing system! It fits the Korean language so much better than Chinese characters did! It increased literacy at incredible rates! But by switching writing systems, they broke that historical link. The average literate Chinese person can read texts that are thousands of years old. The average literate Korean person can't. They'd have to specifically study that field, learn a whole new writing system. So with the new generation of Cardassian youths unable to read historical texts, it's much easier for the government to revise history. The primary source documents are in a script that most people can't read. You just trust the translation they teach you in school. In ASIT it's literally a crucial plot point that the Cardassian government revised history! Wouldn't it make it soooo much easier for them if only very few people can actually read the historical accounts of what happened.
I guess I am thinking of this like Chinese characters. Like, all the different Chinese "dialects" being written with hanzi, even though otherwise they could barely be considered the same language. And even non-Sinitic languages that historically adopted hanzi, like Japanese and Korean and Vietnamese. Which worked because hanzi is a logography—it encodes meaning, not sound, so the same word in different languages can be written the same. It didn’t work well! Nowadays, Japanese has made significant modifications and Korean has invented a new writing system entirely and Vietnamese has adapted a different foreign writing system, because while hanzi could write their languages, it didn’t do a very good job at it. But the Cardassian government probably cares more about assimilation and national unity than making things easier for speakers of minority languages. So, Cardassia used to have different cultures with different languages, like the Hebitians, and maybe instead of the Union forcing everyone to start speaking the same language, they just made everyone use the same writing system. Though that does seem less likely than them enforcing a standard language like the Federation does. Maybe they enforce a standard language, and invent the new writing system to increase literacy for people who are newly learning it.
And I can imagine it being a kind of purely digital language for some people? Like if you’re living on a colonized planet lightyears away from Cardassia Prime and you never have to speak Cardassian, but your computer’s interface is in Cardassian and if you go online then everyone there uses Cardassian. Like people irl who participate in the anglophone internet but don’t really use English in person because they don’t live in an anglophone country. Except if English were a logographic writing system that you could use to write your own language. And you can’t handwrite it, if for whatever reason you wanted to. Almost a similar idea to a liturgical language? Like, it’s only used in specific contexts and not really in daily life. In daily life you’d still speak your own language, and maybe even handwrite it when needed. I think old writing systems would survive even closer to the imperial core (does it make sense to call it that?), though the government would discourage it. I imagine there’d be a revival movement after the Fire, not only because of the cultural shift away from the old totalitarian Cardassia, but because people realize the importance of having a written communication system that doesn’t rely on everyone having a padd and electricity and wifi.
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