#don’t force my hand I have a keyboard and I am willing to use it

[ceo-of-kimona]

The hook of the ship.

So sure, they have a dynamic. These girls have chemistry and they can hit it off with each other consistently, but in order for a ship to go from “cute” status to a tier beyond it needs to have a certain it factor. It needs a powerful hook to it that kicks it up a notch, something that is not only wholly unique to the dynamic but powerful and raw and emotional. In short, it needs a certain unique spice that no other ship with these characters has.

And boy, does Kimona have spice in droves.

Among its many unique and powerful elements, this one is by far my favorite. In short: essentially Ramona’s most common response to a bad situation is to run away as fast as she can, and Kim’s greatest fear is abandonment. She still harbors damage from Scott leaving her without a word in high school.

Do you feel those gears turning?

I’m honestly absolutely baffled by the stunning lack of Kimona fics that feature angst, since these two seem built for angst from the ground up. While I love the fluff, I subsist on it, I feel as if there is a void of potential that absolutely NEEDS to be filled.

Imagine it. Ramona and Kim finally get that relationship together, Kim can stop pining (ha ha ha) and actually be happy for fucking once. We get some fluff or whatever, the girls being cute with each other (believe me they have capacity to be cute with each other) and all that.

Then, something horrible happens: a terrible misunderstanding, a really really bad mistake on one of their part, a sudden disaster that catches them completely off guard, whatever. Their life is flip-turned upside-down. And Ramona sees the fucked up situation, sees the world crumbling around her, and does the only thing that she truly knows how to do. She runs. She runs away from Kim as fast as she can; what else can she do? She’s ran every other time. Why is this any different? This is just what she does, who she is.

So, Ramona runs away like she always does, no surprise there. While her running away has always hurt the person she’s running away from, Kim is different. Ever since high school with Scott she has had a stunted ability to share her true emotions, somehow even more so than the rest of that cast. After being abandoned by Scott, she has kept up her walls to prevent herself from ever being hurt again like that. Then, she meets Ramona, she feels her walls fall all over again. Sure it’s tough, but eventually it all works out. All of that emotional rawness and vulnerability was all worth it and now she can open up. Now she can relax. Then boom. Before she knows it, Ramona leaves her without a word. Just like Scott did. The woman she loved, the first woman she ever loved, a light of her life that was far more than the high school crush that Scott was, is now gone.

She ran away, only leaving a note saying to not try and find her.

Needless to say, this would fucking break Kim. The ultimate punishment from the universe to her for even daring to try and open up to someone.

She would be positively catatonic. It would take months for her to even leave the house! Her entire world has crumbled around her. Everything she built, everything she fought for, it was all gone. The abandonment issues she finally worked past with Scott were now back in double thanks to her and now nobody is left that understands her like Ramona did.

Think about Ramona too, what about her? This would be her essentially succumbing to her nature once again. But this time she wouldn’t be able to justify it as “an asshole guy who she was right to dump” no this was Kim Pine, the girl she had known for years. She knows about her abandonment issues, she knows about her fears of just being left alone again, she knows all of it. She was the first to truly know about it. Yet she still wasn’t able to resist her impulses and she ran away anyway, fully knowing how much it would hurt Kim.

That is the potential of this ship, one we are still yet to truly understand.

[mediocre-writerr]

unbreakable [jennifer jareau]

jennifer jareau x reader, emily prentiss x sister!reader

requested: i love your works sm, could i request a criminal minds one where the reader is emily’s little sister and jj’s girlfriend and she gets injured and she calls jj to tell them her location, but her injuries kept getting worse. jj and emily try to stay calm, but are scared and when they get to her its angsty (and COMFORT)

*not my gif*

The black pickup truck flew through the red light, heading straight for you. Your blood froze in your veins. You wanted to swerve out of the way, but you couldn’t. You were frozen. 

The black blur grew closer and closer with ease. You couldn’t even get into a position to save yourself, you just continued to stare as the car rammed into your driver’s side. 

The amount of force causing your entire car to flip over and over and over again. Until eventually you landed in a little ditch with your car upside down. 

You don’t know how you were still conscious, but you couldn’t move. Everything in your body ached. 

It was a simple drive. A drive you’ve made countless times. You were going to surprise your sister and your girlfriend at the bureau with their favorite lunch. You know how much stress they’ve been under lately, but then all of a sudden you felt like you were dying in a ditch.

Luckily, with technology these days you were able to use your car to call your girlfriend. The ringing filled the echoing car as your eyes began to grow heavy.

“Hey love, you’re on speaker! What’s up?” JJ’s voice filled the car.

“Hey Y/N,” Emily’s voice said from next to her and you smiled to yourself softly.

You cleared your throat before speaking up, “I’m-I’m in a bit of a situation,”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and you could just imagine their faces right now. They probably looked at each other, each of their smiles dropping.

“What happened?” both of their voice said in unison.

You chuckled softly, “So uh funny story, I was going to surprise you guys today,” you got out as you felt your breathing start to become more ragged, “Bring you your favorite lunch, but as I was a driving a truck came out of nowhere and now I’m outside down in a ditch,” 

“Okay, Y/N, where are you right now?” Emily asked and you could tell her protective older sister was showing. 

You tried to remember where you were driving by, but your mind was starting to become a little fuzzy. You shrugged even though they couldn’t see you, “I’m-I’m not sure, I already got the food so I was on the way to the bureau. I can’t remember,” you admitted and you started panicking even more, “Guys, why can’t I remember?” 

Reid’s voice whispered to both JJ, who was pacing the room, and Emily who was currently bitting on her fingernails, “She’s probably suffering head trauma,” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” JJ’s voice whispered soothingly into the phone, “Close your eyes and try to think,” 

You closed your eyes, following the exercise the BAU did on countless occasions to help victims remember, but you came up empty, “I don’t know! I can’t! I can’t remember!” you exclaimed as your chest started heaving. 

“It’s gonna be okay, can you move?” JJ asked again, “Are you able to get out of the car?” 

You shook your head, “No, no I can’t move. J, what’s wrong with me?” you whimpered.

It was her turn to shake her head, “Nothing, absolutely nothing. We’re gonna have Penelope track your phone okay? And we’ll be right there to you. Hotch is gonna send an ambulance as soon as we get your location, okay?” 

“You may want to hurry,” you whispered, feeling blood drip down your face, “I don’t know if it’s ketchup from your burgers or blood that’s dripping from my head,”

You reached up to feel your head and looked back at your fingers before smelling it, “No, that’s blood,” 

“Baby girl,” Derek said in a stern voice to Penelope who was trying her best to get the location fast enough.

She looked at him with a nod, “I’m going as fast as I can,” With a few more types at the keyboard there was a ping, “I got it!” 

They all looked at the computer screen, Hotch was already on the phone with the ambulance repeating back her location. Without hesitation, JJ and Emily ran out of the room and towards the car. Everyone else following suit. 

They drove to where you were which wasn’t that far away, literally down the block. You were almost there. 

The girls parked on the side of the road and noticed that no one bothered stopping to help you. The black pickup truck, nowhere to be seen, he probably drove off as soon as he was well enough to leave. 

There was broken glass leading towards the ditch and they slid down it as safely as possible. Your driver’s side door was caved in so they went to the other side to drive and get to you.

“Hey Y/N?” Emily’s voice filled your ears and your ears perked up, despite your eyes threatening to give out on you any second now, “We’re here now, okay? I need you to stay strong, the paramedic is on their way,” 

You smiled, “I don’t know,” was all you could get out, until you calmed your breathing down, “I don’t know if I can stay awake for that long,” 

JJ’s eyes were threatening to spill the tears that were held in her eyes. Derek went over to the passenger’s side to see if he can help get you out. JJ hung out next to your driver’s side and looked at the blood trickling from your head.

“Can you stay awake for me, baby?” JJ asked and you turned your head to look at her best as possible.

You made a pouty face, “I’m really tired JJ,” you whispered, “I think I need to go to bed,” 

Emily finally started breaking down, “No, we’re gonna try something, okay?” She could see you slowly nod, “Okay, it’s Christmas Eve, you’re six years old and I’m eight. We wanted so bad to stay up and see Santa put gifts under a tree and you were following asleep, but I kept waking you up. You need to keep imagining that okay?” 

“Emily, I love you,” you told her as your eyes started drooping more. 

She shook her head, “Hey, no. Santa’s coming soon! We need to stay awake,” she told you. 

Even with Derek’s strength he couldn’t get the car door open. He slammed his hands on the car in frustration, as he looked up at Hotch, “They’re gonna be here in five minutes!” 

“Hotch! We don’t have that kind of time!” Derek screamed.

JJ reached her hand through your broken window, “I love you,” you whispered to her as she rubbed your cheekbone softly.

“You can tell me that when we get you all bandaged up, okay?” she told you and you shook your head.

“I think my head needs a little more than a band-aid,” you joked which caused her to let out a breathy laugh. 

Mission accomplished, you thought to yourself. 

You started to close your eyes and she shook head, “Hey, stay awake, okay?”

“Can you tell me a story?” you whispered, something JJ would do whenever you were having a rough day or the two of you were being lazy on the couch. 

“Will you stay awake for me if I do?” she asked and you nodded.

“I’ll try my best,” 

“It’s Christmas Eve in about twelve years or so. We have two kids who are six and eight. They’re waiting for Santa to come down the chimney so they can see him. They’re telling each other that they need to stay awake,” she begins and looks at Emily who’s breaking down, crying softly in Derek’s arms. 

Her voice starts to become more shaky, “And I’m shaking your arm in bed every so often whispering to you, ‘Love, you need to stay up so we can put the presents on the tree’. But you’re falling in and out of sleep, so I give you a sweet kiss and rip the blanket off of you. You groan in response as you cling onto me,” 

Your eyes start to close, but JJ continues talking, “You say ‘I'm so tempted to call Rossi and tell him to buy a Santa costume just so they can go to bed already.’” you let out a breathy laugh as JJ tries her best not to cry in front of you, “You always pretend to hate the idea of staying up, but you’re secretly happy because it reminds you of how you and Emily used to be when you were young,” 

“In a world where your parents were barely around and the only people you had were each other, waiting for Santa to come reminds you of her,” she finishes telling you, “You need to stay awake, okay? So we can live a life like that, please,” 

The flashing of blue and red lights, along with sirens filled the void of silence. The paramedics and firemen rushing down the ditch to come and rescue you. JJ is moved out of the way and into Emily’s arms. The two of them crying together, holding each other close. 

The firemen breaking the door away, letting the paramedics due their duties as they rushed you onto a gurney. Your eyes were still fluttering open and closed as you tried your best to hold onto the little life that was present in your body. 

Until you couldn’t anymore. 

/ / /

“Love,” JJ’s voice drew out, you fluttered your eyes open to see her staring back at you, “You fell asleep again,” 

You rolled your eyes teasingly, “I’m sorry, these kids are unbreakable. It’s 4 in the morning and I need to sleep if we’re going to be hosting tomorrow. I mean we still have to finish cleaning,” 

It was her turn to roll your eyes as she pressed a soft, yet sweet kiss to your lips. You smiled into it, the feeling of contentment overflowing you. But it’s gone all too soon as the cool Virginian winter air hit your body.

“No! Babe!” you whispered, groaning. 

JJ was sitting up in bed as you wrapped your arms around her waist, clinging onto her like a sloth onto a tree. She let out a laugh before planting a kiss to the top of your head.

“Rossi is on speed dial, I am more than willing to call him,” you mumbled, before placing a kiss to her hip causing her to laugh more.

The two of you just stayed in that position until you couldn’t hear whispers from downstairs anymore. 

You perked your head up, “Do you hear that?” 

“What?” 

“Exactly,” you shot out of bed as quickly, but quietly as possible. She let out a soft giggle before following suit. 

The hard wood floor cold against your bare feet. You looked from the top step to see the kids finally fast asleep on the floor. JJ opened the closet door and grabbed all of their presents, lying them neatly along the tree.

You took the cookies that they made and took small bites out of it before drinking some of the milk. You went over to JJ with a cookie in your hand, wrapping your arms around her waist from behind. 

“Cookie?” you whispered and she nodded gratefully before taking a bite out of it. 

The two of you just swayed from side to side as you embraced the colorful lights of the Christmas tree filling the dark room and your two kids sleeping peacefully on the floor with one another. 

You grabbed your phone from your pocket, shooting a text to Emily who was probably fast asleep. You and JJ got close to the two kids before taking a selfie with them, sending the picture to Emily saying:

They did it again...stayed up much later this time. I’m starting to feel bad for Mom and Dad now!

You grabbed the blanket that was on the couch and laid it over the two kids, as JJ wrote note in cursive thanking them for all the cookies. You placed a kiss to each of their heads before following JJ to bed.

The two of you getting comfortable once more in bed, finally allowing yourselves to try and get some sleep, “Aren’t you glad you stayed awake?” she whispered.

You nodded, softly, thinking back to the time where you almost died, “I’m very glad I stayed awake,” you told her, the double meaning hidden along the sentence. 

But JJ knew, she always knew.

[maybege]

Work Song

Summary: You meet once again.

Pairing: hot dad!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.2k

Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub relationship, use of sex toys, dirty talk, consensual degradation and namecalling, multiple orgasms, double penetration, oral sex (m receiving), come play, sexting

When I was pondering which to post (bodyguard!Paz ord hot dad!Boba), I figured: why not both? So tonight I am serving you some delicious hot dad!Boba smut and tomorrow or Tuesday evening you will get the next part of The One! I am really excited to share this with you and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy it!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Work was boring.

Or rather, it wasn’t boring but your thoughts kept drifting to much more exciting prospects. Like the next meeting at the motel.

Boba had messaged you that he had gotten scheduled for the midnight calls almost all through the next month and had suggested you meet on Fridays instead. But since Fridays were your yoga course days, and the only real opportunity for you to go out and meet new people and potential friends, that was not an option either. And so, you had remained on Saturdays - even if it meant he wouldn’t get to stay the night.

Even over the phone, you could see the reluctance he had to agree to it. (“I’d prefer if I could buy you breakfast the way I buy you dinner,” had been his exact words to which you had only smiled.)

So now it was Thursday, almost the end of the week, and you could not wait to get back home, to get to the end of the week and into the motel and, most importantly, to Boba.

With a groan, you let your head onto your desk in your cubicle. All around you, you could hear the tapping of the keyboards, people talking, phones ringing, the alarm of the printer going off when there was – once again – not enough paper there. Even sitting at your desk among a sea of people you never felt so alone.

“What are you thinking?” Nat, chewing a piece of gum, popped up on the wall of your cubicle, resting her chin in her hands. You flinched in surprise, looking up at her cheerful face. “Dreaming of mystery man from the bar again?”

If only she knew.

You smiled, “I, uh, I was just checking over these numbers again, I think I might have to start from scratch and ask marketing for the raw numbers.”

Nat popped her gum, clearly disappointed that you did not seem to share any details. “Well, Marketing really needs to get their shit together,” she grumbled, “I had to ask them for the full numbers – twice! – last week. can you believe that? Twice!”

“Now that I have them in front of me, it’s not that hard to believe,” you grinned, leaning back in your chair and looking up at her, “But that is not why you came to talk is it?”

“Well,” she sighed dramatically, sending you a wink, “Since you don’t let me live through your love life – you want to come for drinks this Saturday? Me and the girls want to check out a new restaurant in town, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“I’d love to but I already have plans,” you declined, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of whom you had plans with, “Maybe next time?”

For a minute, you were afraid that maybe she would be suspicious. That maybe she would keep asking you about Boba and you would have to dodge your questions.

But thankfully, Nat seemed to have completely forgotten all about your love life.

“Sure!” she perked up, throwing a look towards the kitchen, “Wanna do lunch together? I’m starving.”

You nodded, smiling when you heard her basically skipping her way to the kitchen from her cubicle. Grabbing your phone, you went to follow her.

*

Nat kept talking about one thing or another, completely oblivious to the internal fight you were just hashing out in your head.

Never had your phone looked more menacing.

You did not know when or how exactly but somewhere in the two minutes it had taken to microwave your food, a tiny little thought had manifested itself in your mind.

Boba had asked for your wishes the last time and you had been too nervous to think about them. But surely, with the safety of a screen between you, you would be able to articulate at least some of them?

Then again, would he even want that? After all, it was not Saturday and maybe he did not want to have that kind of contact out of your agreed meeting hours?

You tapped your fingernails on the table top before deciding to just fuck it.

You: I want you to fuck my mouth.

There. It was sent. It was done. You had half a mind to switch your phone off and never look at it again, you felt that embarrassed. But before you could do so you saw how the read notification popped up and now it was like a car crash you couldn’t look away from. Boba had seen it. It was too late now. Shit, what had you done?

Boba: So princess has some dirty wishes after all.

Boba: Any more things you want to try out?

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head towards Nat who looked at you questioningly. “My friend just sent me something funny,” you waved off while making sure no one would be able to get a look on your phone screen.

Toys. you typed out, I’ve never got to try any and I want to try them all. Want you to use them on me.

Now I’m thinking about getting you a dildo, little one. Maybe even two. One for that tight little kissy and the other to train your mouth.

The implication made you clench your thighs and you took a deep breath, hoping no one would notice how you were almost squirming in your seat.

Lunch forgotten, your eyes were fixed on your phone as the three dots kept moving on the screen. You weren’t really sure if this counted as texting per se but you had never been this explicit with someone over texts and your heart skipped a beat as the next message appeared.

Boba: Does that turn you on?

You: Yes.

Boba: Where are you?

You: On my lunch break. Why?

Boba: Because if you’d been home I’m this close to take a half-day and fuck you silly in your own bed.

You shuddered, your thighs clenching.

I’m this close to going home sick if that’s what awaits me.

The read notification popped up but you saw how he wasn’t online anymore and frowned. You tried to avoid your thoughts of how maybe you had been too forward or too awkward or maybe he thought you were weird now for being willing to go home in the middle of the workday just to get in bed with him. But the truth was you were.

Work was boring today and while you appreciated Nat’s attempts to get talking, you didn’t really feel in the mood to talk. Besides, you knew she was just out to get more info about the bar mystery man as she called him and even though you liked her you really didn’t want to talk about Boba to anyone. So yeah, the thought of being able to go home and be able to feel Boba against you instead of going through the different numbers sounded like heaven to you.

Reluctantly, you got back to your pasta salad, aware that you only had a few minutes on your break left and trying to not spend them checking your phone constantly. How much more pathetic could you be?

“Ready?” Nat asked suddenly beside you as her friends got their dishes into the dishwasher and you nodded with a smile.

“Although when is one ever ready for work?” she asked, faking a British accent and you grinned, pocketing your phone in the pocket of your dress.

“Never,” you replied, “one can just hope it’ll be over soon.”

The dark-haired women turned to you with a conspiratory grin before twirling into her cubicle, leaving you alone to go back to your desk. You stood at the entrance of your cubicle for a moment, eyes roaming over the papers on your desk, ruined with your scribbling as you tried to decipher whatever numbers marketing had sent you.

You rubbed your hand over your face, forcing yourself to smile with the hopes that it would release endorphins or some shit. You could do this. There was no need to feel overwhelmed by this. What would be the first step to make this better?

Typing the email to Brenda from Marketing should not have been as hard as it was. But your mind was swirling with trying to find the right balance between polite and insistent because you could not afford to lose any more hours of work over something that simply could not be worked with.

Just as you were ready to give up, your phone pinged.

Boba: Sorry, business call. But believe me, little one, I can’t wait until this weekend. Would you be okay with me buying some toys for you?

You smiled, answer already ready.

*

“Shit, little one, you looked so good like that. You like that?”

You gasped for breath, eagerly nodding. A thin layer of sweat had built all over your body as you knelt on the end of the bed. You were so intoxicated by these feelings, by him, it felt like everything was on fire, getting ready to burst.

As soon as he had arrived – you being the first in the room this time around – he had framed your face in his hands and kissed you until you both been breathless. And then he had shown you the toys.

That was how you had ended up here, on the bed, completely naked, moving yourself on one of the dildos he had brought for you.

“Look at you, such a good girl for me, hm?” Boba murmured, his hands moving once again and you choked, tears stinging in your eyes from the effort of trying to relax your throat and keeping your hands behind your back as he had instructed.

Boba had not just brought one toy. He had brought two. And you while you were fucking yourself on one, thighs shaking with the effort, Boba had pushed the other down your mouth. “To train you to take me,” he had rumbled with a glint in his eyes.

A particularly hard thrust down your throat forced you lower on the shaft between your legs and you moaned, tears of pleasure and despair pricking your eyes. He was still completely closed, looking as dominant as ever and you could feel your clit and y our nipples aching wanting to be touched and played with.

You whined, drool slipping down your chin and Boba showed mercy, slowly pulling the toys away from your mouth. “What is it, little one?” he asked, “What’s got you all teary-eyed, hm ?”

“My – my nipples are so sensitive,” you pleaded with him, “Please, please touch them, Boba.”

He grinned darkly, running the tip of the dildo over your wet lips. “So, touch them.”

You shook your head as best as you could, wanting to remind him of the one rule he had set for you but then he pushed the toys back into your mouth. Your back arched as you leant forwards, humming when the dildo shifted inside you and even more so when your chest brushed against the rough material of his shirt.

It was like little pricks of pleasure coursed through you.

Boba looked down at you, the blue dildo still in his hand and you felt heat seep into your cheeks. From shame? Maybe. But all you felt arousal as you saw the admiration in hid ryes.

“How desperate you look,” he mused, his fingers holding your chin, “How pretty. Just for me.”

“Yes,” you gasped, mouth falling open as you sank down on the toys again, your nipples brushing over the harsh fabric, “J-just for you.”

“My pretty little fucktoy,” he smiled, leaning down and kissing you open-mouthed. You gasped into him, pleasure overtaking you and when his hand wandered down to your right nipple, pinching and pulling it sharply, you came. Everything in your body tightening before it felt like you were bursting at the seams, the sudden wave of pleasure making you whimper.

Where you had been so precariously balanced on top of the dildo, now you lost your balance, completely falling against him but Boba was there to catch you.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, his hand still squeezing your tit, “Think you have another round in you?”

Your eyes fell to the very obvious bulge in his pants and you nodded eagerly. Even with your legs still trembling from your orgasm, you were already carving more. More of this, more of him and the pleasure he could give you.

With calloused fingers gently wrapped around your forearm, he helped you up.

You followed willingly, letting him turn around until you were facing the bed, sheets messy where you had kneeled.

“I’m going to let you choose, little one,” he murmured into your ear, his warm body pressed against your back. You could hardly concentrate with your hands on your skin like that, one hand holding you by your throat while the other dipped between your folds. “Which toy do you want to fuck now?”

First, you were disappointed that apparently you did not get to fuck yourself on his cocks but then his finger swiped over your clit and you shuddered.

“Answer me, princess,” he growled, his hand slightly tightening on your throat, “Or are you too cockdumb already?”

“Nuh-uh,” you tried to shake your head just as much as your legs were shaking from the pleasure he was giving you. You tried to focus on the toys. The one you had used already and the one he had had you suck off. The blue one was glistening from your juices and your thighs clenched at the thought of having it inside you again.

But the other one, the purple one, was much thicker than the blue and you knew it was closer to what Boba’s cock actually felt like.

“The purple one,” you murmured, head leaning back against his shoulder and he mouthed at your neck, humming in satisfaction.

“You’re so kriffing sexy, you know that?” he whispered, planting a playful bite on your shoulders before leaving you alone in the middle of the room. You whined, pressing your thighs together as you saw him so meticulously prepare for what seemed to be the next scene he had had in mind.

With a soft towel spread on the floor in front of the armchair, Boba looked at you as he sat down, legs spread wide before planting the dildo on the towel. “I think good girls deserve a treat,” he murmured, working on his pants before getting his weeping cock out and you swore your knees were that close to giving out underneath you.

You gaped at him, practically falling on your knees with your hands placed on his thighs. The impact made a dull sound and your heart skipped a beat as he immediately leant forward, fingers gripping your chin as he searched your face for any sign of pain.

“I know you’re eager to suck my cock, little one,” he smirked, “But no need hurting yourself over it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling a little embarrassed for how needy you were being.

Boba smirked, leaning back in his seat but not before running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes flicked down to his weeping cock, your mouth watering at seeing how a drop of precome had already collected at the tip.

Without thinking any further, you sank down on the dildo, mouth falling open at how it stretched you. You ducked down, closing your lips around his shaft and taking him as deep as he would go in one smooth movement.

Boba groaned loudly above you, one hand going to the back of your neck to keep you there. Just like your pussy, he filled your throat completely, your tongue feeling as if it was running out of space so you did your best to press it against the underside of him, wriggling along the prominent vein he had there.

Tears gathered in your eyes again and you moaned as the toy inside you hit a spot the previous one couldn’t. Your hips stuttered, slowly starting to grin against it in hopes of it hitting that spot again. You did not move your mouth from him.

“Fuck you look good like that,” he praised you, his free hand coming around your throat and you tried to swallow when you felt his thumb rub over the bulge in your throat. You had not even realized how far you had taken him but when you saw the grin on his face, his eyes glazed over in pleasure, you felt proud of yourself for making him feel like this.

Slowly he pulled you off his length and you followed, gasping for breath when you could. A trail of saliva connected you still to him and through your lashes, you looked up at him. Even now he was a sight to behold, jaw clenched, a glint in his eyes.

You would do everything to please him.

“Don’t think I can last long, little one,” he grumbled, lips twitching as he spotted how you still moved your hips, “Think you can come before that? Don’t want to leave you hanging.”

You nodded, rising on your knees again just like before and sinking back down, moaning when it hit that sweet spot.

“Good,” he smiled, warping his hand around his cock, “You can touch yourself how much you. Just want you to come for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled, obediently opening your mouth to take him in again. Your fingers went to your clit, circling it to spread around the wetness that was already making its way to the towel. You gasped, hips jerking at the pleasure.

Boba groaned, rubbing the head of his cock along your tongue, precoma coating your taste buds. He pushed your head down again, quickly building up to a rhythm that had you choking and gagging, spit trailing down your chin, making you feel filthy and desired.

One hand came up to your chest, pinching your nipple and throwing you off the cliff. Your moan got interrupted by Boba shoving himself down your throat even more and you shook where you sat, your wetness coating the toy until all you could hear were obscene squelching sounds from between your thighs.

“Where did you want my come little one?”

“On my face, please,” you gasped.

A deep, guttural groan left him and you opened your mouth even wider, sticking your tongue out as your fingers played with your nipples. Hot roped of come splattered on your face, landing on your brows, your nose, your tongue, dripping down your chin and onto your chest. Boba continued pumping his shaft milking himself of every last drop and collecting it on his thumb before gently spreading it over your cheek.

“Did I do good?” you asked, heaving for breath.

“You were perfect,” he rumbled, scooping some of his come onto your tongue and you swallowed eagerly.

You shifted on your knees, wincing when the dildo moved inside you.

Boba leant down to you, his hand carefully holding you by the elbow as he stood up slowly, taking you with him. Your legs were shaking from the strain and your knees hurt from straightening them. You shivered.

A soft kiss was pressed to your lips and he led you back to the bed. The fabric was cool under your fingertips and you took a shaky breath. His warm hands were on your shoulders, thumbs brushing the skin as he looked down on you.

“Let me get you something to clean up, okay?” he murmured.

You nodded silently. He disappeared for a moment and you simply sat there, wringing your hands and trying to focus on your surroundings. Everything was fuzzy still, pleasantly warm from your orgasms but you also felt could now that it was over.

You heard the sink run in the bathroom and a moment later, Boba was in front of you again, a warm cloth in his hands that he gently ran over your face.

“Look up at me, little one,” he murmured and you did, closing your eyes as you tilted your face towards him. With gentle movements, he cleaned your face but you were too tired to smile. You felt drained but in a good way, like your limbs were too heavy from pleasure to really move and so you just let the feelings wash over you.

When he was finished, his hand came up to cup your cheek and you leaned into him.

Boba hummed, “Would you like to take a shower or a bath?”

“Bath, please,” you croaked, flinching as you heard how hoarse you sounded. Boba’s lips quirked up and he nodded. Slowly he guided you to the tiled bathroom, sitting you down on a towel at the edge of the tub before getting the water running.

You frowned, the rushing water almost too loud in your ears. Boba turned around, spotting you curling in on yourself and just like that he had you in his arms.

“It was a bit intense, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing against your ears and you nodded, burying your head in the fabric of his flannel.

“I – I don’t know why I feel this way,” you whispered, “this … sensitive.”

“You’re coming down from a high, little one,” he explained, thumb brushing the back of your neck, “It’s normal to feel a little exposed. But I will make sure, you’re okay, okay? Anything you need, princes, you just tell me, yeah? Anything.”

“Okay,” you whispered, already feeling a bit better with him here.

You did not know for how long you stood there, but when the water shut off and Boba helped you in the tub you sighed in content. The water was just the perfect temperature and you sunk in with closed eyes, the only thing guiding you being Boba’s hands.

“I will get us some food, okay?” he asked quietly, sitting at the edge of the tub and holding your hand. You had never felt this cared for. “I will get us the same order as the last time, does that sound good?”

You nodded with a smile. He stood up but you held onto his hand, only letting go when the distance became too much. Stars, you were really fucked out good, weren’t you?

With your eyes closed in relaxation, you could only hear his low chuckle as he got ready to leave. The door to the room closed not long after. You soaked in the tub for what felt like an eternity. The water was warm and you were positively surprised by the scent of the motel shampoo. It certainly was not as bad as you thought it would be.

Slowly you felt yourself coming back to reality, feeling more energized and more awake and aware of your surroundings. Boba had not come back yet so when the water got a little too cold for your liking, you decided to get out anyway.

You got dressed in your nightgown you had taken with you – thankful that Boba had left it for you on the counter in a moment of foresight –, hurrying barefoot over the carpet into the bed.

Just as you turned on the TV, the lock of the door turned and a whistling Boba came in, arms laden full of brown paper bags.

“You got more than last time,” you stated, frowning as you saw him put down a second paper bag on the small TV desk.

“Well, I won’t be able to buy you breakfast tomorrow, now will I?” he replied, “Thought I could take care of that now and then you don’t have to worry about it tomorrow.”

“Oh really?” you asked, sitting up on your knees, not minding when the blanket fell down, so you could at least make an attempt to peer into the bag.

Boba chuckled, indulging you by handing you the mysterious food bag and immediately you took a peek. There, neatly arranged, was a croissant, a chocolate muffin and what looked like a little breakfast sandwich.

“I’d keep the sandwich in the fridge,” Boba commented from the other side of the room, already taking out the familiar smelling food containers. He did not seem to know how your heart swelled in your chest at the sweet gesture.

You knew he had wanted to be here for breakfast – he had literally told you so on the phone – but when it was clear that Saturday would remain your meeting day of choice, you thought he had just shrugged it off. Maybe it had just been a flirtatious remark?

But the fact that he had gone out of his way to somehow show you he had been serious about what he had said made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“It’s very sweet,” you murmured, looking at the way the muscles in his back moves as he fished for the plastic utensils, “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” he replied easily, still smiling when he turned around and carried the food with him, “Now let me slip under that blanket, princess, what will we watch?”

You giggled, watching this giant man carefully position himself on the bed, before stretching out his arm, offering you the food to eat and his chest to rest against once again.

“I could get used to this,” you murmured, taking a bite of the pita.

“Me too, princess,” he rumbled, “Me too.”

[mokutone]

sorry if this is random but i was just curious about your thoughts on sai? i know you have a lot of thoughts on yamato fhdjdlfn and his and yamato’s relationship always seemed so interesting and really underdeveloped :[ theyre both really similar but yamato was able to get out of ROOT before sai was, and i was just wondering if you had any thoughts on that/him to share. sorry if this is weird or out of the blue djshfkfj love your art!!

that's not weird at all!!! actually the day u sent this question in i had finalized the thumbnails (and started on the pencils!) for a comic wherein Yamato comments on how Sai is handling his transition out of ROOT differently than Yamato himself did! I don't want to lay all my thoughts on that out here, because I think i'm much more clumsy with textposts than with comics, but I appreciate the question and I will share some thoughts!

under a readmore tho bc. this got Long...comics force me to be concise but w/ a keyboard under my hands i just chatter

here's something I've been thinking abt! I think they had fundamentally different experiences in ROOT, and this is reflected in their attitudes towards Danzō, as well as the way they interact with the people outside of ROOT.

Sai seems to have no real loyalty to Danzō. He does what Danzō says because Danzō gives him his orders, when he practices his fake smile in front of Danzō, Danzō immediately tells him to cut that shit out. I don't think there's a lot of love lost there—when team Kakashi catches up to him in orochimaru's hideout, and they kind of confront him, and. also kind of. "give him the option" of abandoning his mission (and ROOT along with it) or. you know. facing shinobi consequences. he doesn't really seem to think much of it? honestly. i imagine he was probably a little more relieved than anything else. Add to that him remembering how he wanted to finish the drawing of his brother—

actually wait hang on thats another point I want to talk about. Sai was pitted against the person he was closest to in order to traumatize him into numbness! wack! I think that's kind of at the root (help.) of why I see him as a fundamentally angrier character than I see Yamato—and why I interpret some of his behavior not just as Not Knowing How People Work (although he does have trouble with this! it's a very different vibe. like. him trying to comfort Naruto and Naruto thinking Sai was coming onto him was an entirely different kind of situation) but as like. intentionally inflammatory sometimes...like. he's insulted the bodies of most of the people around him in one way or another, he knows it pisses them off, he does keep doing it. I think him Causing Problems On Purpose is sometimes just a way for him to try and experience catharsis for a fury he doesn't really know he's repressing. Like. idk. it's one thing to be forced to hurt yourself, that's deeply upsetting, disembodying, traumatizing, but it's another to be forced into a situation where you're to hurt somebody you love (regardless of the outcome) like. idk. its a kind of powerlessness that hits different at least ime, and frustration and resentment are extremely normal reactions to a situation like that. i think. a number of things could be appealing to him abt trying to get others to get angry at him—whether it's Him being the one to Cause another persons anger (which could confer a kind of. feeling of control) or him seeing himself reflected in their anger (like a "boy howdy i recognize this emotion. it's very clear. very understandable") or even seeing how they handle the anger. kishimoto definitely doesn't care nearly as much about Sai's anger. but i found the implication of it compelling as a kid, and I find it more compelling as an adult! anger can be an incredibly healing and protective force sometimes when dealing w/ trauma...and I wish kishimoto knew what he was writing about or that we got to see it explored more!!! ack!

yamato (as kinoe) had a wildly different experience when he was in ROOT.

we know he knew how to fight against sharingan, which. I think implies he was training in combat with Danzō, or that he worked closely with Danzō, or at the very least that Danzō used his sharingan on him. We also saw that (unlike Sai, who was rebuked for even fake-smiling) that Kinoe (at first) was not told to feel nothing, but instead instructed on how to feel by Danzō specifically. Like, mostly telling him to Feel Grateful etc, but I think him being told to experience specific feelings according to what Danzō thought was appropriate would lead to a different relationship with his emotions than Sai, who was told explicitly to repress them all at all times, and to not even attempt to preform them.

He also like. Thought. Highly. of Danzō, not just as a leader but as a person...it's kind of undeniable that Kinoe saw him as right, was willing to brand his own feelings and intuition wrong if it crossed Danzō's, openly sought Danzō's approval, when he fails his mission to secure Kakashi's eye, his reaction is. essentially immediately to return himself to Danzō to face whatever new dehumanization Danzō's got for him— even when Kakashi and Hiruzen drag him out of there he thanks Danzō for everything, and he seems genuine about it, despite. everything. He's more expressive than Sai for sure, He had like. a moment of anger, when he said that he wanted to be Tenzō, and Danzō denied him that basic self identification...but it's quickly squashed. Messy. Messy. I think. I think he has a little more trouble getting in touch w/ his anger than Sai bc of his emotional closeness to Danzō.

i think. because yamato knows that he was something more like Danzō's favorite, and that conveyed a vastly different experience than Sai's, he might feel a little complicated about being like "So...ROOT trauma, huh? Hell of a thing!" but. i also like to think that he's very quietly kind of trying to observe and support in a way which mostly allows Sai to figure himself out—I think when they are older they would probably talk about it more (also because then their tongue-seals will have finally disappeared. Thanks sasuke!), once Sai has close friends in the village and everything

Just a lot of like. "I have friendships down. I have teammates down, easily—but what am I to the old woman I buy my cabbages from. What degree of friendliness do I exhibit to her."

"I think...whatever you're comfortable with is fine. I know neither of us had particularly normal upbringings, but you don't have to execute every interaction perfectly for people to care about and respect you."

anyway god this is so long and soooo based in my own personal HCs. I hope there was something in here that was interesting to you!

[hes-writer]

Routine

Summary: y/n catches harry live streaming a show

Warning: smut

Word Count: 2293 words

___

University was no joke. It’s expensive for sure. Harry had a full-time job at the beginning of the semester working at a cafe near his flat. He soon found out that that wasn’t the best idea. Maybe because he didn’t manage his time right or it was simply too exhausting for him to work late hours when he had to take mandatory morning classes. His next solution was more--risky per se. 

Harry had always been confident with his body. He ate well; loading up on fruit smoothies and veggie shakes every morning to accompany him on his early morning workouts. The sweat beading in between his toned pecs made him revel in the accomplishments of self-care, washed away as he palmed his face underneath the stream of the locker room shower. His wet curls stuck to his small ears as he pulled his sweater over his body, exiting the gym with a bag slung over his shoulder, plucking a peace sign to the person at the front desk as he left the building. 

It started off as a blog; posting pictures of his body that he worked hard on. The narcissist in him craved the compliments of strangers drooling over his muscles and shapely body. Sometimes the messages he received were explicit, but he also couldn’t help the arousal flowing through his veins as blood pumped towards his cock. Thus, the next part of his routine was to go home to his flat and strip his body off of his clothes. His webcam would be switched on with a push of a button, his long fingers floating over the keyboard as he signed in to his account. 

Speaking of, the meat between his thighs plumped up with the lingering thought of user ‘sweetgirl112’ messages last night. How much she wanted to tuck his thick length in her mouth, how much she craved to feel his large hands adorning her body. God, she had such a way with words and here Harry was with an erection pudging up in his lycra leggings. An outline of his mushroom head visible through the tight material. He played with his bottom lip as he waited for the traffic light to turn green. One hand tapped against the steering wheel in a rhythmic pattern, his mind drifting away to how it would feel like to have those pleasures within his reach. 

But he didn’t. 

He rushed off from his seat, quickly locking his car and keying the front door to his flat. Harry was hornier than usual today, thanks to sweetgirl’s lovely messages from last night. Harry rolled his eyes at the effect the stranger had on him. He dropped the chain dangling from his fingers on the bowl beside his door, sighing with excitement as he toed off his runners. 

On the couch, Y/N snoozed with her mouth agape, hair messily splayed across the pillow he provided her. He almost forgot she had slept over last night during their movie night. She insisted to sleep on the sofa despite Harry offering his bed to share between the both of them. In the end, both of them slept on the uncomfortable cushion cuddled up into one another. The distance between them was non-existent but Harry found it endearing the way Y/N cuddled up into his body in order not to fall off the edge, snuggling into his chest with a quiet snore after jolting when one of her legs tumbled of the border. 

Nonetheless, that meant that Harry had to tone his volume down a bit, keeping a keen ear to make sure his noises don’t wake her up or arise any alarm from his friend. He crouched down beside her sleeping face, waving a hand over her eyes to make sure she was still in a deep sleep. 

“Hope yer’ having sweet dreams,” His thick accent made the words stick to his tongue, lazily drooping like honey. Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the way his heart thumped as she smiled slightly in her sleep, humming with satisfaction and cuddling closer to the pillow clutched between her arms. 

Adorable, Harry thought. 

Soft footsteps tiptoed over his bedroom, shutting the door gently. He stretched his arms to remove the black sweater over his head, ruffling his curls in the process. His nose hooked at the opening, muffling his breath for a bit that had him tumbling down on the end of his bed with a slight bounce. Harry is clumsy.

He managed to remove the rest of his clothes without further trouble, leaving him in his boxers briefs and socks which he would take off when he got situated in his office chair situated in front of his computer. His set up was on the corner of his room, facing the door. It was a bit odd at first but Harry learned to make it work. 

Harry pushed two pumps of coconut-scented lotion into his large palm, lathering his upper body with a subtle sheen, moisturizing his biceps to appear shiny. The excess cream was rubbed along the nape of his neck, massaging the tense muscles along the way. A swift glance at the time at the bottom corner informed him that he had five minutes left until his scheduled show would begin. In preparation, Harry gathered the items he might need during his session. A bottle of clear, water-based lube, a bullet vibrator that recently joined his collection of toys and a silicone cock ring that looked to be a struggle to fit around his plump dick. He set the items aside on the table in front of where he would be sitting. 

Harry chewed on his bottom lip, hands grasping the width of his hip as he opted to check on Y/N again. She was a heavy sleeper and the show will probably take around thirty minutes to do, minus the foreplay and all of that. It was still pretty early in the morning too; around ten-thirty, surely she’d stay put till then. He peeked his head through a small gap in his door, craning his neck to catch Y/N shifting just in time to rest on her other side. 

Pretty soon, the webcam displayed a green dot at the corner and his screen was loaded to a  black screen. The chat indicated that there were currently twenty people watching him. The total viewer count increased with each passing second that had Harry grinning to himself. Once the camera was adjusted to where it cut off around his neck, he sat back in his spinny chair, splaying his wide palms on his muscly thighs. 

20 seconds left.

Harry could feel his cock grow in his boxers, the anticipation of his fans commenting on dirty things that they would like to do to him left his imagination endless. A blurt of precum stained the inside of the fabric, dotting the area a darker colour. He sighed deeply, wide eyes watching as the countdown changed.

5...4...3...2...1

In a blink of an eye, Harry’s toned body was showcased on the screen, allowing him to view what his viewers had the pleasure of viewing. The ‘LIVE’ sign blinked repeatedly. 

“Hello,” Harry drawled out purposefully using a deeper tone to set the mood. “How are you today?” His fingers stayed hung over the armchair, griping it slightly when comments started rolling in.

“How’s my baby? Are you needy for me?” He found that the best way to ensure as much of connection between his viewers was to speak as though it was a one-on-one conversation. “Because I am,” A hand crawled towards his crotch where his half-massed dick rested on his upper thigh, the head prominent against the tight briefs. 

Making sure to keep his face out of view, Harry leaned forward to read the remarks.

User12314: i love your tattoos

User48529: what i’d do to have my hands on you

He chuckled to himself, rubbing up and down to tease himself and them even more. Various 'pings' littered the room with Harry thanking each of them as much as possible. 

“I’d love to have my hands on you too,” He gave his cock a gentle squeeze, sucking a breath through his gritted teeth at the sensation. “Wanna feel your body on my skin,” Harry released a throaty groan as he shifted to pinch at his nipples, “Would ya’ let me touch your breasts? I bet they’re soft and perfect for my hands,” His thumb rubbed circles on his top two nipples, shivering slightly.

One palm cupped his balls, thumbing at the middle as the other continued the ministrations on his chest. This went on for a couple more seconds until he pulled his hands away to rest on the ferns tattooed on his hips, rubbing the skin there sensually while he spoke, “Y’wanna see my cock? It’s so hard for you,” The head twitched twice, forcing an involuntary moan to leak from his plump lips. 

User09321: yes please

He sighed at the message, his stomach burning with the need to just wrap his fingers around his dick and jerk it till he cums. But he couldn’t do that—at least not yet.

___

Y/N woke up from her slumber, dizzy and discombobulated about where she was only to realize that the ache in her lower back was caused by Harry’s uncomfortable couch. Her phone buzzed beside her; an alarm to wake up to watch a show. Not just any show—a filthy, dirty cam boy who hadn’t left Y/N’s mind ever since she discovered him for the first time a few days ago. She was drunk on wine and barely remembered what the live stream had contained. He was hot, that much she knew. 

He wore a dark red sweater that covered his body which Y/N found quite adorable. Yet at the same time, his fist peeked out from his bunched sweater paws to desperately tug at his cock while endless whispers and groans flowed from his mouth through the speakers. His covered body arching against his seat, the walls behind him a plain white. Apparently, he was feeling like a sub that day and asked permission to touch himself like a good boy, pleading to cum. His audience couldn’t resist the whine in his deep voice, shooting streams of cum on his sweater, staining the fabric and probably ruining it forever. 

Just before the live stream ended, he reminded everyone when his next show was--today-- and in her drunk daze, Y/N must have set up a reminder on her phone, completely forgetting that she was to hang out with Harry the day before. She rubbed the ball of her palm against her eyes, willing away the sleep on her lids. Sitting up on the cushion, she looked around Harry’s apartment to find the curly-headed boy. 

“Harry?” She called out, checking his kitchen to find it empty. She went to his bathroom to freshen up, picking up her toothbrush that Harry had sweetly brought her after Y/N stayed at his place more times than both of them can count. After spitting out the foam pooling in her cheeks, Y/N dabbed the corners of her mouth with a soft, fluffy towel. 

As she exited the bathroom, Y/N opened up the web browser in incognito mode, refreshing the link from a few days ago. The page loaded slowly, enabling Y/N to continue searching for Harry. She absent-mindedly walked to Harry’s closed bedroom door—the last place she had yet to look. Her phone produced a muffled sound when it finally loaded. She rapidly typed out a comment to send.

“Can’t take it anymore,” The man said, “I‘ve gotta touch myself but I’m wishing it’s you wrapping your hands around m’cock,”

Y/N could feel her thighs tighten, standing in front of Harry’s bedroom. 

Sweetgirl112: touch yourself for me daddy. i wanna hear you say how good it feels

Harry growled upon seeing the message and its user,  pulling the fabric down and letting his dick hit his skin with a faint slapping sound on his flushed stomach. Shaky fingers teased his length, tracing of the prominent veins that pumped his cock with blood. “Mm, it feels so good, love,” His thumb spread the liquid seeping at the tip, making sure to lube the head of his dick for a smooth stroke. 

With distracted thoughts, Y/N pushed the bar handle down, a gentle bump knocking the door open.  

She couldn’t believe her eyes when the loading screen on her phone mirrored the sight in front of her; Harry’s head thrown back, resting against the head of the office chair. Her phone cut off at the veins stretched over the expanse of his neck. His heaving chest glistening with sweat and the faint smell of coconut lingered in the air. His fist pumped his long cock up and down, squeezing at the tip to produce a dollop of wispy pre-cum. Closed eyes blocked his vision from Y/N standing frozen on the door, gazing back and forth towards the device on her sweaty palm to the even hotter view right in front of her.

A resonant sound of ‘pings’ pulled Harry out of his pleasure, lifting his head with the aim to thank whoever tipped him but was taken aback by the sight of his friend at his doorway.

“Oh shit,” He mumbled, impulsively clutching his full balls cradled between his fingers. Harry’s green irises were hooded, observing Y/N’s face with such intensity that it made her want to cower back. His two-front teeth grazed his bottom lip before parting his sweet mouth in a silent gasp at a particularly good stroke. “Wanna join me, baby?”

——

Let me know what you thought!

——

Permanent Taglist: @splendidsunsetx @swagmoneymaya @luviewoo @textingharry @arypesanchez @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @sunguines

[downywrites]

“It’s payback time.”

Hello there, folks. It is I, a bird. With a keyboard. Bird says hi. Enjoy fic. (Please note-there is swearing.)

The sound of hooves clopping loudly on the cold castle floor echoed as Schlatt weaved through the long corridors. His heart pumped loudly in his ears as he tried to gain speed as much as he physically could without slipping on the smooth stone. He heard the sound of feathers rustling behind him, making him speed up his gait more in a feeble attempt to escape from his pursuer. “Leave me alone, you piece of shit! We’re adults, you bird-brained idiot!” 

The pursuer in question chuckled as he pursued, his feet hitting the floor much more gently than the cloven-hooved man. “Adults still have fun too, you know~ Come here, Schlatt!” He called, signature wings tucked close to his body to increase his running speed. Schlatt’s eyes widened and he screeched to a halt right before hit a wall. He searched frantically for an exit, cursing quietly under his breath. “Out of all the areas in this godforsaken castle, I had to find the one area with no exits? What the fuck is this castle made for, just to confuse people?” 

He turned to see King Philza, ruler of the Arctic Kingdoms, standing at the only hallway exit, wings spread menacingly. “Heya, Schlatt. How ya doing, mate?” He ignored the winged hybrid, trying to run past him in a desperate bid to escape. Philza used his wings to block his path, pushing him down smoothly. “Gotcha.” He pinned his arms with one hand. He immediately started tickling Schlatt’s sides, poking and pinching firmly. Schlatt burst into instantaneous laughter, curling in on himself and bleating angrily at him. “Yohohohou fuhuhuhucking bihihihitch of a bihihihird!”

 He struggled and bucked, trying to escape him. Philza ignored his swears and curses, tickling at his tummy and sides with his wing tips. “Tickle, tickle, little ram boy. So cute!” “Ihihihi’m nohohot cuHUHUTE!” He was so focused on his tickling techniques, so intent on his goals, that he had loosened his grip ever so slightly on his hands. Schlatt grinned. He pulled at his hands in one quick jerk, slipping out of his grip and grabbing where blindly at where his wings protrude. As he clutched and squeezed, soft and hard muscles squishing gently under his fingers, Philza stopped tickling him with a loud squawk. He tried reaching for his hands, then at his arms, but it was already too late to stop him. He rolled them over, still massaging Philza’s wings roughly. “This is what you get for being such an unruly prick of a ruler!” He risked letting go of his wings to scratch quickly at his melt spot, in the hopes of weakening the hardcore warrior. It had the desired effect- Philza loosened up a bit, his laughter going up an octave in turn. “Ehahaha, Schlahahatt, nohoho!” 

“Schlatt, yes! Revenge, motherfucker!” He continued teasing and scratching at the bird man’s melt spot, until his wriggling and squirming had all but subsided. He looked into his dazed and tickled-silly eyes, smirking. “Is that all you could do? I think you can do better than that, birdie.” An idea popped up in his head, his ears flicking in excitement. “So, little birdie, do you think your little ‘dungeon’ would be helpful? I mean, nobody goes down there anyways. Perfect for us~” He sing-songed, grabbing and hoisting the bird man over his arm, with a bit of a struggle.

 As he walked to the dungeon entrance, he continued to tease and prod at his melt spot, making sure Phil didn’t awaken from his ticklish daze. The man in question barely attempted to escape from him, making small little huffs and calls in between his laughter. As they descended into the barely-used ‘dungeon’, Philza began to put two and two together. He started squirming on his shoulder, protesting weakly under his breath. However, the ram wasn’t as weak as he looked, keeping him on his shoulder with ease. Once he reached a good room, he let go of him, letting him tumble to the ground unceremoniously. Philza attempted to escape, only to fall back to the ground with a squeak as Schlatt scribbled over one of his feet as he crawled on the floor. Schlatt grasped one of Phil’s ankles, pulling him onto an interrogation table with both hands. He flipped the bird man over, attaching restraints and chains with resounding clicks and clinks. At this point, Philza was genuinely struggling to escape, but try as he might, the bonds held firm. He looked over his shoulder in slight fear, but his wings blocked the view. He cursed his anatomy, not willing to unfold his wings and give Schlatt the advantage. 

“So, Philza.” Schlatt’s booming voice made him flinch, wings tightening in their folded position. “Not so kingly now, huh? I ain’t a real citizen here, ya know. To all of your maids and butlers, all I am is a tiny little ram you keep as a pet.” He dug his fingers into one of his folded wings, rubbing at the down underneath. “That means that they’d never, ever believe that your little rammy would ever be able to truss you up like a prize pig, eh? Speaking of pigs.” He traced little shapes over his captive’s wings, delighting in the way that they shivered under his touch. “I think Techno’s out and about, isn’t he? I don’t think he, or any of your sons, for that matter- are going to come to your aid. It’s just me and you now. Any regrets?” 

Phil, for good measure, was already giggling and hiccuping, squirming in his bonds as if that would change a thing. “Nohoho, plehehease! Schlahahatt!” “Please? Nah, I don’t think so. This is too good of an opportunity to give up, hm?” He drew a little face in his feathers, leaving them ruffled in his wake. Schlatt dragged his hands from the king’s wings down to his sides, tasering him. He watched the royal’s face contort into a forced-back smile, grinning evilly. “How does it feel to be on the receiving end, Philee? Coochie, coochie coo, my king~” 

Philza whimpered slightly at the baby talk, blush burning brightly on his face. “N-no, Schlatt...nohohoho bahahaby tahahalk!” He shook his head, his bucket hat shifting dangerously on his head. Schlatt saw this and, with a dramatic flourish only the ram could muster for such a foolish thing, he scooped it up, placing it on his head haphazardly. “Whoopie, I’m the king now! Bow to your ruler, Phil…. Oh wait, you can’t.” 

He dug his fingers back into his side, squeezing at the closest hip. The reaction was instantaneous. Phil bucked and arched his back, wings extending out like a black curtain to either side of him. “EhEEE! GihihiHIve mehIHI MiHIhi hahahat bahahack!” He snorted at that, balancing the hat precariously on one of his curling horns. Quickly taking advantage of the outspread wings, he dug his fingers into the inside of one, making sure that he dug deep enough into the feathers to poke at the muscle beneath. Once he had done so, he raked through the feathers, dragging his fingers over the sensitive muscles roughly. The bird hybrid tugged desperately at the chains, laughter making his whole body quiver like a worn-out violin. The wings themselves trembled, attempting to fold back in and away from the ram. He grabbed at the wing he was stroking, holding on to the crook of the wing firmly. “Oh no you don’t, you fucking pigeon.” He chortled at the feeling of the feathers fluffing up in annoyance underneath his hand. “IHIHI’M A EHEHEHAGLE, YOHOHOHOU FUHUHUCK!”

 Schlatt ignored him in favor of digging his fingers deeper into his feathers. The king squawked, flapping his trapped wing and dislodging the other hybrid’s hands. He retracted them fully, tightening them so much they shook slightly with the effort. Ram ears flicked in annoyance, and Schlatt huffed a bit, stomping his hoof slightly at the recalcitrant lee. “Why, you little-” His eyes drifted to the king’s exposed back, and he rubbed his hands together, chuckling darkly. From the corner of his eye, he saw Phil’s feathers stand on end in alarm, which made him even more certain of his next move. He strode over to the other side of him, hooves making loud clopping noises as they struck the floor. “Hey Phil? I always wondered why you had such an exposed back on all of your clothes. After all, weren’t you oh so very ticklish there?” He dragged one finger up his spine, delighting in the little shivers and nervous giggles he got in response. “But now that I’ve been in your shoes, worn your crown, I think I’ve found out why, oh great king of the Arctic.” 

He reached the small of his back, rubbing circles just around the melt spot teasingly. He leaned to the side, whispering into his ear. “I think this great king, the powerful warrior, yearns to be wrecked. Tickled until he can’t speak. He wants someone to rub and tease at his wings until he can’t breathe, can’t call for help. You love this, don’t you? You should give up on escaping, Philza. You’re mine.” He growled the last words, delighting in the way the warrior startled from his sudden tone change. 

Philza whimpered loudly under him, pulling one wing over his face in embarrassment. “Y-yohohohou…” His whole body shook with the effort of not bursting into hiccupy laughter from the circling. His eyes pricked with tears. If he wasn’t chained down the way he was, he would’ve wiped them off in annoyance. A good king should never cry in front of their subjects. Then again, was Schlatt a subject? I mean, he did essentially just wander in with Tubbo at his heel. They- 

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts by a hand ghosting over the muscles of his back, the anticipatory giggles escaping from his mouth before he could stop them. Schlatt growled playfully, mimicking the emperor’s favored form of informing his sons of his mood. He started counting down, fingers wiggling just barely over the king’s shivering back. “10, 9, 8, 7…” As the countdown got closer and closer to zero, Phil got more and more nervous and giggly. He pushed the wing covering his face more into his mouth, effectively muffling his giggles. Schlatt frowned at that. “5..nah, that’s enough.” He started roughly scribbling all over his back, pinching and scritching at the base of his wings. He marvelled at the texture of the downy seams there. It was perfectly soft, similar to the feeling of a downy, silky pillow’s innards. 

Philza’s wings flicked open fully, unable to resist the instinctual reaction. He shrieked, tears pricking at his eyes again. “EEEEAAAHAHAHA hic SCHLAHAHAHAHAT! NAHAHAHA- hic NOHOHOHOHO!” He bucked and squirmed, only to force Schlatt’s hands deeper into the sensitive plumage. The ram hybrid in question continued his onslaught, poking and prodding at every spot that made his laughter hitch up a notch. Soon enough, there were genuine tears rolling down Phil’s face. 

At this point, the bird hybrid’s blush had reached his ears and down to his collarbone, tinting the lighter flesh a tanned pink. His wings had all but gone limp, hanging gently over the edge of the table and flapping gently when he gained enough energy to. Schlatt ignored the signs of his subject’s stamina flagging, choosing instead to mess with more areas around and slightly below the back. Once he heard his hiccups cease, however, he finally slowed to a stop, letting the winged man rest. He watched Phil’s chest rise and fall in shallow, stuttering heaves, before deciding to flip the man over. He placed him back in the cuffs, about to lock the last one in, only for Phil to grab onto his hand tightly. 

He flicked his ears back, scared of the punishment he knew the emperor could bring upon him, but the only thing he felt was a small, unsteady circle on the meat of his thumb. He looked down to see a panting, smiling, tear-stained face, as regal and poised as he was undone by the rough tickling. “Schlahahatt, Ihihihi’m ahahalright.” He grinned widely at him, wings opening slightly from behind him. Schlatt looked at him, unsure. What if this was a trick? A ruse? If he manages to get me down here, he might execute me. I’ve never had to deal with a fucktard ruler like him before. He shook his head, moving to undo the restraints before he got into a deeper pile of shit. The king’s hand tightened, making him gasp from the sheer strength behind it. Didn’t this man just get wrecked?

 Philza’s voice echoed in the room. “Schlahahatt. Ihihi.. Ihihi wahahant thihihis.” He looked back just in time to see Phil avert his eyes, blushing again from his intense (and confused) gaze. He looked at his form, simply admiring how weak and vulnerable he looked in the bonds. He was so used to seeing this very same form sitting on his throne, helping people with their work, being kind and caring in every manner to the people of the Arctic Empire. He had seen him in many a fight in the castle, wings out and spread like a living cape, sword shining like a beacon of hope in the darkness of night. He had listened to his booming voice, powerful and noble, yet rustic and warm with the sweet undertones of honey. He had seen it all from afar, heard of his deeds far and wide, long before he ever set hoof in the area. And here he was, holding such power and control over such a noble warrior, the one whose wings could reach the sun. For once in his life, he could not find a single snarky word to say, not a single thing to do. He could not move and break this peace, yet this man, the king with many names, had beckoned him forward to finish the job. He felt as if he were the one vulnerable and at someone’s mercy, not as if he was the one holding the rope. 

He stepped forward robotically, closing and securing the last shackle. He stepped back, looking straight into the king’s confident, sky blue eyes. “A-are you sure I can do this to you, your majesty?” He managed to croak out, ears flicking nervously. He nibbled a tiny bit at the skin on his knuckles, shifting on his hooves. Phil nodded, hair bouncing up and down a little as he did so. “You may, Schlatt.” As he moved forward towards the bound man, Phil whispered under his breath, just barely loud enough for his sensitive ears to pick up. “Just remember, you’re going to pay for that stunt you pulled earlier, no matter what you do here.” He stepped back a bit at that, bleating in surprise. The winged man chuckled at his reaction, grinning sneakily at his captor. 

Schlatt narrowed his eyes at him, stepping close to his face. He whipped out his hands from behind him, making Phil close his eyes instinctually, before untying his (as in, Tubbo’s, but he still hasn’t noticed the loss of it yet) scarf, pulling it over the king’s eyes. He secured it, tickling gently under his chin as he pulled away. Phil was definitely not expecting that, yelping long and loud at the sensory deprivation. He tucked his head into his shoulders at the gentle tickles, already laughing. The inability to see where Schlatt was going next was already killing him. “Schlahahahatt! Nohoho, plehehease nohoho!” 

Schlatt raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh? Begging already? What happened to the ‘noble king’ act you were sporting a few minutes ago, hmm? Was that all bravado? Oh, please.” He started tracing shapes over the man’s torso, gently tickling there, and moving downwards to his belly. As he did so, he started getting more and more random, until he was scribbling and pinching all over his tummy haphazardly, reaching the same frenetic pace as before. Phil was already tearing up from this. Even though none of these spots were as bad as his back, the blindfold made it impossible to see where the ram would poke next. Every poke and scribble made him buck in the restraints. His mind screamed at him for deciding to let Schlatt do whatever he wanted. He could kill you anytime. Thankfully, he had already known that Schlatt wasn’t going to harm him. He had checked the ram’s pockets before they had started, stating that ‘he didn’t want him to attempt to steal anything and eat it as they went’. He had found no weapons or anything that could be used to kill him, so he waved that thought off with ease. He won’t touch me. He cares for me. He smiled in genuine happiness, trilling and cooing in the back of his throat in unadulterated joy. 

The ram hybrid smiled, continuing to tickle at his tummy and sides. “Having fun there, Philza? I think you are~” As if he wanted to prove his point, he dug in a little harder, causing the bird hybrid to buck up more into his hands. His laughter went squeaky from underneath him, making him chuckle darkly. “Ohh, coochie, coochie coo! Doesn’t it feel good to be the one getting wrecked for once? Revenge is so sweet.” 

Philza nodded his head wildly, making the ram chuckle even more at the intense looking movement. He moved to his hips, digging his nails into the strong bones there. He watched his king buck up and screech with laughter at the new movement, one hoof stomping happily in return. He squeezed and scribbled over the man’s hipbones, delighting in the honey-warmed laughter he got there. He wondered how the emperor could have such a smooth and comforting laugh, even when he was being tickled silly by one of his so-called ‘subjects’. He continued to rub and tease at his hips, enjoying the light pink trails that he left as he went. He moved back to his stomach, scratching with his thumbs over his abs. He gently rubbed at the scars, marvelling at the texture but wincing in empathy at the idea of how he had earned them. 

To Philza, this was the most torturous yet heavenly thing to have ever happened to him. Never in his lifetime on the throne had anyone ever dared to fight back, much less restrain him and blindfold him in this manner. Sure, he had many a tickle fight with his sons before- but they’ve never, ever decided to go this far with him, even in the most intense of moments. Yet here he was, at the mercy of a hybrid he had met not long ago who had absolutely no affiliation to the throne nor the country. If he was anyone else, he would have been worried, afraid even, of this person, this enigma of a creature. 

Fortunately (and unfortunately), he was not anyone else. He was not afraid of such a creature tumbling into his life, instead adopting him as one of his own and treating him similarly. He loved him dearly, and he was overjoyed to find that this rude, often grumpy ram hybrid called Schlatt truly loved him back. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to do this. He knew that his officials would have been concerned at his lack of safety, but he knew the truth. He knew that trust comes from powerful vulnerability. So, instead of snapping the restraints he knew exactly how to break, he sat there, wiggling in blissful agony as Schlatt dug into his most ticklish scars.

 He didn’t remember how long he was there, tears streaming from his eyes, wings unfolding and refolding. He didn’t remember when Schlatt finally finished, unshackling him and rubbing at his chafed wrists, mumbling apologies. And he certainly didn’t remember when he drifted off to blessed unconsciousness, cuddling with the ram on the now-warm interrogation table, no. What he did remember was awakening to see a now very trussed-up Schlatt, hanging from his wrists just barely on a stool, with two of his sons growling at him menacingly. “W-wait, boys! T-techno, Wilbur! We can t-talk about this, right?” He looked desperately at the king, ears flicking back in fear. He got up from the table, wings stretching out fully behind him. As he walked forward, wings dusting the ground as he went, he grinned at the terrified hybrid. “Remember what I said earlier about what I’d do to you for yesterday?” His eyes glimmered with mischief. “It’s payback time.” And so, the ram’s laughter echoed through the dungeon, bouncing off of the restraints that so tightly bound the king, sealing his fate for that morning (and the day after, for good measure).

Thank you for reading. Bird thanks you.

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 1] 

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; masturbation, daddy!kink. Hello! WELCOME TO CHERRY BOMB! Introductory chapter, so it might be a ‘lil slow to start. 🥰💕 Also just wanna say thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for Cherry Bomb! 💕 And also! The formatting of this might be a little different and seem longer, so excuse me for a bit as I figure out the best formatting for this as we go! 😅 If you haven’t already read the drabble this starts after, you can read it right here! You don’t necessarily have to, but it might not make complete sense if you don’t so if you have time, please start there~! 💕 yeehaw!

chapters; 1/?

“Hi dom.cheol!

I just wanted to thank you for your constant support for me~ I’d be nowhere without you~! I’ve been thinking it over and I know I don’t really do private shows or anything… but I would really be interested in doing one for you, free of charge for my biggest supporter! If you’re interested, I’d love to hear back from you! I’m free right now actually, maybe we can even cam and get to know each other better? ;) Hope to hear from you soon! xx cherry_clouds”

Seungcheol can hear his heart pounding in his ears and his fingers going numb when he looks over your message for what has to be the sixth or seventh time now.

He figures he needs to say something but he doesn’t know what; only the sounds of his own screams filling his head as he reads the message again to make sure he’s not dreaming.

“Fuck! Fuck! What do I even say to this?!” He panics, raking his fingers through his hair. Checking the clock, it’s already been ten minutes since you sent the message and he didn’t want to keep you waiting too long for a response but he really didn’t even know what to say.

Seungcheol groans, palms slamming onto the keyboard without a second thought.

dom.cheol: aedeflkijl

cherry_clouds: oh! you’re alive!

“Shit!” He did not mean to send that keysmash.

dom.cheol: fuck, sorry i didn’t mean to send that

dom.cheol: my cat ran across the keyboard

Seungcheol doesn’t own a cat either.

cherry_clouds: aww! It’s okay! I love cats~ you should send me pics sometime! 🥰

A blush coats Seungcheol’s cheek; trying to not let the giddiness take over as he tries to keep his cool when talking to you. He cracks his knuckles, willing the nerves away to the best of his ability before he slips back into his ‘calm and collected’ online presence.

cherry_clouds: How’s your night? Did you enjoy the show~ 💖

dom.cheol: of course, sweetheart. you know i always enjoy watching and supporting you.

He leans back, a genuine smile on his face. Seungcheol spent most of his paychecks on gifts for you, whether it was monetary or clothing or toys for you to use during your shows. There were times when he wondered if this was the right thing to do, or if he was spending his money on something that wasn’t worth his time or energy. But he also couldn’t deny the happiness that he felt when he saw you using the gifts he’d sent or the shoutouts that you’d always give him.

Tonight had gone a little differently than he ever expected, but he didn’t mind.

cherry_clouds: ><;; i wouldn’t be where i am if it weren’t for you always supporting me… I’m really thankful!

You bite your lip, giggling as you sit on your bed. dom.cheol seemed like a really nice person when he’d comment on your cam shows and you were hoping that he would be the exact same in private, which is why you finally gathered all the courage to ask him if he wanted a private show. 

There were a lot of risks you took with doing cam shows which you knew when you first started. You didn’t hide your face and even though you’d set up a different address for your mail and gifts, it didn’t stop people from sending you weird things as well. You also had your fair share of people who weren’t very kind and people who tried to get you to do things you weren’t comfortable with, but dom.cheol was always someone in the chat who always made you feel safe.

cherry_clouds: oh! About the private show… were you up for it tonight?

dom.cheol: can i ask for something different? I promise it won’t be something weird.

You quirk a brow, fingers hovering over your keyboard. In all honesty, there were only a few things you really knew about dom.cheol. You knew ‘cheol’ was part of his name because of his username and because he always sent gifts under ‘cheol’ and that he was somewhere in his 20’s. But other than that, you were completely in the dark about anything else about him. You were taking a really big risk by even offering him a private show; you just wished that it was the right decision.

cherry_clouds: um… what did you have in mind?

Seungcheol swallows the lump in his throat, nervousness eating him up again in an instant. He knew that there were boundaries he couldn’t cross and he knew that there was only so much the two of you knew about each other so he wasn’t sure if he was crossing any sort of boundary by asking for favors.

dom.cheol: i mean, you’re probably tired so i didn’t want to force you to do a show for me… i thought maybe we could do a voice call? And just talk for a little bit.

cherry_clouds: oh! Are you sure? I’m fine with that but only if you are!

He bites his knuckles, screaming quietly at how cute and caring you were towards him, even when you contacted him first.

dom.cheol: yeah, of course! I just… i don't want you to be tired. And I would enjoy talking to you if that’s okay.

cherry_clouds: I’d like that too! Okay, let me just get all set up and put some stuff away and i’ll call you, okay? Don’t leave! hehe~ 🥰

dom.cheol: take your time, sweetheart. :)

You nod, although he can’t see it. 

Gathering your things and tugging the sheets off your bed, you quickly get cleaned up, tossing your dirty sheets in a pile to be washed along with your toys. You didn’t want to keep him waiting too long and figured you’d deal with it later instead.

It takes you about fifteen minutes to get cleaned up, tossing on a big shirt and panties as you hop back onto your bed with your laptop and clean bed sheets.

cherry_clouds: okay~ i’m ready!

dom.cheol: ready when you are ;)

You locate the call button, nervously pressing it and watching as the call attempts to connect. He answers it on the third ring, a deep voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

It shocks you for a second, a shiver running up your spine with how deep his voice seemed to be. “H--hello? dom.cheol?” There’s a deep chuckle on the other end and you can almost visualize the smirk on his face.

“That’s me, sweetheart. But you can call me Seungcheol. I feel that’s easier on the mouth, hmm?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, unsure. You weren’t really comfortable with giving him your real name just yet and most often than not, your viewers just called you ‘cherry’ or cute pet names which you preferred.

“Sweetheart, don’t worry about giving me your name. I know that’s private, so don’t feel pressured.”

His gentle voice sends your heart fluttering, a shy smile on your lips at his words. “O-okay, sorry I just… you know how it is…” You trail off, twirling a piece of hair around your finger.

“I know and I’m really thankful you gave me this opportunity. It’s nice getting to talk to you like this.”

“Mm, y’know your voice is really deep, Seungcheol! It’s really hot~”

Giggling, you lean up against your pillows, placing your laptop next to you as you lie down. “Oh? What did you imagine when you thought of me, baby?” The drawl in his voice has thrums of arousal pooling in your lower abdomen; thighs rubbing together at the simple question. “Umm.. I dunno… I just… you mentioned being in your twenties before so… I’m just getting used to putting a voice to the name I guess~” His laugher pours through your speakers and you can’t help but fall deeper in love with his voice.

“You didn’t think I was some forty year old pervert, did you?”

This time it’s your turn to giggle, jokingly rolling your eyes at the ceiling. “No, never. And anyway, your taste in lingerie was too good. Which by the way, all of my favorite sets are the ones you’ve sent me!”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I like to think I’m a ‘lil fashionable.”

“Oh? Can you tell me more about you? I like hearing you talk~”

Seungcheol hums on the other end, pausing to think about what he should tell you.

On most days, he worked at his local roller-skating rink and as boring as it was, it paid extremely well. Then again, that was mostly because nobody really wanted to work there so his boss paid him overtime to keep him there; not that he minded.

The only problem was that it wasn’t exactly a cool or intriguing story to tell; to him at least.

“Hmm, what should I tell you… I don’t exactly work anywhere fancy. But I will say, it pays well. So well that I can spoil you with gifts and donations without a problem. Which, thank you, for always using my gifts.” He pauses.

“By the way, can I ask you a question?” Seungcheol clenches his jaw; it was now or never.

“Mm? Sure~”

“Those things you said about me… That sometimes you pretend it’s my cock when you play with the toys I get you and you wanting me to cum inside your tight ‘lil pussy… Do you really think those things?” Seungcheol’s voice drops an octave and you feel yourself clench around nothingness at the sudden desire to get fucked by this man you’d only just started speaking to. 

“I---Y-yes… I have… I m-mean, I don’t know what you look like but--but I just… S-sometimes it’s hard to get off so I have to mentally visualize something…” You trail off, your hand already running down your torso before you start rubbing yourself over your panties. “Sometimes I imagine that you have really big hands when you’re guiding me down onto your cock... Or when they’re wrapped around my throat...” 

“Oh? So now that you’ve heard my voice, will you think about it when you’re thinking of my cock fucking your cunt? Hmm? Or when I’m telling you to cum and get my cock nice and wet?” You can hear the cockiness in his voice just as you slide your panties to the side, fingertips sliding through your wet folds.

“I--mmh, uh, y-yeah…”

“Sweetheart, are you touching yourself?”

You moan loudly, body already sensitive from the night’s previous activities but you can’t stop your fingers from rubbing circles around your clit. “Y-yeah, ngh, ‘m sorry, it’s just--you sound so good, ‘Cheol~ I like… listening to you talk dirty to me… It’s different seeing you type it out but god, it sounds so good when it’s your actual voice... I can’t imagine how handsome you are to match...”

If Seungcheol could do backflips right now, he would, but he keeps his calm, taking a deep breath before he continues. “Yeah? Do you like it when daddy tells you what to do? Hmm? Do you like when daddy spoils you rotten? Buys you toys that keep your pussy nice and filled?”

“F--fuck, yes, daddy! Please!” You mewl, toes curling against the sheets as you slip in a single digit into your throbbing pussy. “Do you already have your fingers inside that tight cunt of yours?” You moan in response, nodding at the air as your eyes flutter shut.

“I want you to add another finger, sweetheart. I know you can take it. You must be so sensitive from earlier, huh? And yet here you are, fingering yourself to the sound of my voice.” There’s an airy chuckle at the end that you commit to memory; the sound fueling your wet dreams of Seungcheol being ruthless in his punishments and the deep and dark chuckles that would flood your ears.

But you listen, adding another finger as you scissor them inside of you. The stretch feels good, but you can’t help but imagine how big Seungcheol’s cock really was.

The call is quiet for a few minutes; the sound of your moans and wetness being the only thing Seungcheol can hear. The adrenaline rushes through his veins and he doesn’t even care about the fact he’s already hard; just wanting you to get off on his voice before he deals with himself later.

“Bet you’re thinking about my cock now, huh? I bet I could get you to cum just from sitting on it, just like you said. Fuck, I bet you’d look so good riding me. Or maybe you’d like to sit on my face? Cum on my tongue first and then cum on my cock. And I’d let you have it all.”

You whine at his words, feeling the pleasure building up in your body insanely fast at Seungcheol’s filthy promises. “Yes, god, I want all of it, daddy, please let me cum!”

“Okay, princess, why don’t you touch your ‘lil clit for me. I know it’s not the same but pretend it’s my tongue on your clit and my fingers deep inside your pussy. I want you to cum on my tongue, let me taste how sweet you are.”

You thrust your fingers into you faster, thumb on your clit as garbled moans and broken cries of Seungcheol’s name spill from your lips.

“I’m cumming, f--fuck, daddy, I’m cumming!” You cry, back bowing off the sheets as Seungcheol praises you over the call; his voice music to your ears in the midst of your orgasm.

Seungcheol’s toes curl against his carpeted floor, heart pounding in his ears when he hears his own name rolling off of your tongue. I could get used to that, he thinks. But he quickly brushes the thoughts away, grounding himself again. Okay, but I shouldn’t ‘cause this was a one time thing.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“Mmhmm… y-yeah…”

Your airy breaths pour out of his speakers as he waits for you to come down from your high.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry Seungcheol I--I didn’t… um, I wasn’t expecting that… I mean I was but--but not like that?” You finish with a breathy laugh, sliding your sticky fingers from between your legs as you wipe them on your shirt.

“S’okay, me neither, I feel like I didn’t tell you much about me.” He laughs, running his fingers through his hair.

“Mmm… I mean… I--I wouldn’t mind… talking again? I liked hearing your voice. And maybe next time we can actually talk and not… y’know…” You trail off, staring at the ceiling. 

If you weren’t tired from your show, you were definitely tired now; eyes threatening to slide shut from the sleepiness. 

“Oh... a next time? I don’t want you to feel pressured into talking to me, sweetheart.” Seungcheol offers. His mind is going a mile a minute at the prospect of a next time but he knows he can’t make you do anything, nor did he want to. 

“Hmm... well, how about this! Why don’t you... send me a message with your real phone number and---and a picture of yourself! And then I’ll contact you so you don’t feel like you��re botherin’ me or something.” You feel the adrenaline rushing through your body, ears and face hot now that you’d asked for his personal info. 

“I--I can do that.” 

The two of you end the call before you can fall asleep on it; wishing each other a good night before you hang up. Seungcheol felt weird about not tipping you or paying you for the call, but you had insisted he didn't need to, since you were the one who offered at first. 

You lay in bed, catching your breath and thinking about Seungcheol and how that call went nothing like you ever expected. 

Not that you hated it, in fact, you only wanted to know more about him.

Seungcheol sends you a message minutes later, your inbox pinging on the screen as you lean over to open the message. 

The first thing you see is his phone number; a simple ‘sweet dreams. ;)’ attached. But the next thing you see is the photo attachment, which you click as quickly as you can.

You drool. You can’t help it, but you do. 

His hard cock the first thing you notice about the photo. The next thing are the veins on his hands and the way his hand looks small wrapped around his thick cock. You feel like your throat is as dry as a desert but your eyes travel up; heart beating even quicker when you see his toned torso that leads up to his extremely handsome face and silvery-blue hair.

“Holy shit.” 

Seungcheol was definitely not a forty year old pervert. 

[the-seas-song]

Richard Armitage and Astrology

Hi! I find astrology fascinating, and am an armchair expert on it myself, so I found Richard's comments in his recent Total Film Magazine interview very interesting. This is what he said:

I’ve been incredibly lucky. I’ve dabbled with having my celestial chart looked at every couple of years, just for a little tune-up. Every time, the guy sighs, and goes, “What can I say? You’ve just got a sprinkle of luck.” And I say, “That’s good, because I don’t have the talent, so I really need the luck!”

[cut]

There is a naughty, dark side to me. I am quite strongly affected by the moon. So if there’s a full moon I’ll go a bit crazy. (source)

This isn't the first time Richard's mentioned astrology – he's mentioned being a Leo, reading his daily horoscope, and finding out he was born in the Chinese Year of the Pig; but these were all informal twitter comments. He has also mentioned the effect the moon has on him before, in February 2020:

“Everyone has cycles of positive mental and emotional feelings and negative mental and emotional feelings and I know that I am profoundly affected on a monthly cycle. I always look at the calendar when I'm feeling particularly low and check the lunar cycle to see if it's a full or new moon.” (source)

However, what prompted me to write this is that Richard's personal put-downs were even more direct here than usual; and the connection that has to his natal, or birth, chart.

A little disclaimer: Personally, I think general horoscopes (like the ones you find in magazines) do far more harm than good. They are based solely on the twelve sun signs, and your sun sign is just one puzzle piece out of 25+ pieces that make up your natal chart. This is why many people don't relate to their horoscope or it's personality description.

Your natal chart, however, is a whole different animal. It's an intricate puzzle created by the exact date, time, and location you were born; which is why most people find their natal charts to be scarily accurate.

Back during the Hobbit days, a fan blog reported that Richard told a NZ fan that his birth time was just after 4 a.m. I used 4:05 for this post, and being off by a few minutes doesn't really make a difference.

Richard and self-esteem

I really feel for and relate to Richard's self-esteem struggles, because our charts mirror each other. We are both Leo suns; but I have my moon in Aries with my MC and Chiron conjunct each other in Virgo and sextile my North Node; while Richard has his moon in Virgo with his MC and Chiron conjunct each other in Aries and sextile his North Node.

What on earth does that mean?

Each planet represents a different part of you. The sun represents your ego/conscious self; the moon your emotions, mercury your mind/intellect, venus love and beauty/aesthetics, mars passion and drive, etc.

On top of the twelve planets, there are specific points and asteroids that are also important. Your MC, or Midheaven, represents your career and public persona. Your North Node describes your inner journey and life purpose. The asteroid Chiron describes your major soul wound, that you will be forced to deal with throughout your life.

A conjunction and a sextile are two of several different kinds of aspects. The different kinds of aspects are the different ways your respective puzzle pieces can interact with each other. Some are 'easy/positive' and some 'difficult/negative'. A sextile is considered easy/positive. A conjunction means two things are next to each other and overlap with one another, and is usually considered positive.

Leo and Aries are both fire signs. Fire signs are generally playful, warm, passionate, confident, and optimistic. Virgo is an earth sign. Earth signs are generally practical, grounded, sensual, and logical.

Richard's personality is dominated by an almost equal amount of Leo and Virgo influence, with both his sun (core self) and venus (love and beauty) in Leo and his moon (emotions) and mercury (mind) in Virgo.

Aries and Virgo are said to be the most difficult Chiron signs, because they are the wounds tied directly to your self-worth (Aries is the wound of Self and Virgo is the wound of Perfection). With Aries Chiron you feel a core sense of worthlessness, like you're missing a fundamental piece of your core self. This deeply felt lack of self-worth leads people to be people pleasers and have issues with confrontation and conflict.

Aries rules the planet mars. It is the warrior planet of passion, drive, and combat. A conventional Aries is confident, outgoing, impulsive, and strong willed. Aries and mars are definitely the rowdiest sign and planet in the zodiac. However, with Chiron here the traits are inverted, and so someone like Richard is much more likely to be scared of his inner passion, confidence, and willpower – depending, of course, on what the rest of his chart is like.

That leads us to Virgo. Chiron Virgo feels impure, like there is something fundamentally wrong with them. This kind of low self-esteem makes you feel like you have to constantly try to 'fix' yourself so people will love and accept you. It's an OCD type of perfectionism that only ends in failure and heartbreak.

A good example of how this works is when I talked to my therapist recently. I hadn't quite succeeded in meeting my goals, and so my automatic response was to condemn myself for failing. My therapists immediate response was to congratulate me on how much progress I had made.

Ironically, unlike with Aries, this isn't an inversion of the conventional Virgo. Conventional Virgo is meticulous, detail-oriented, focused, patient, efficient, practical, perfectionistic, systematic, and pessimistic with high expectations. If Aries is the official warrior of the zodiac, Virgo is the official nit-picker.

This means that Richard's subconscious intellectually (mercury) and emotionally (moon) expects and demands perfection, whilst simultaneously feeling fundamentally worthless. In short: ouch.

Interestingly, a significant number of celebrities have their Chiron conjunct their MC. Personally, I think Richard hit the nail on the head as to why in his essay on the Human Condition for Cybersmile:

The answer in my humble opinion, (and believe me it is humble, to a point of taking 43 years to be shared) is actually something which applies to my work as an actor. It’s why sometimes actors are called in to work with therapists, in large corporations, in schools. It’s why drama therapy is fantastic to understand what we do, how we do it and what the outcome might be, and in an improvisation where we aren’t playing ourselves sometimes we explore avenues that are too frightening or unacceptable in our own lives.

[cut]

So going back to my very first point, the “social media society” in which we’d all like to feel safe, supported, excited, creative, spontaneous, innovative, courageous, is really in our own hands. And back to acting, it’s taken me a long time to shake off the effects of bullying in school. That people were always laughing behind my back. I was always looking out of the corner of my eye. I now have incredible peripheral vision which is so useful, (as is Kinesthetic sense…Google it) but try being a brave, experimental, uninhibited actor with all of those hang ups. Wasn’t happening.

So here is the thing, and it’s key to my work and I think ours as a community. When we speak or write, we ultimately desire to ‘affect’. If we aren’t watching the destination of that affect, then how do we know our words have landed and the ‘effect’ they have caused?

[cut]

If I have a strong opinion about something which I want to express I really task myself with backing it up with the ‘why do I feel that?’

Again it’s part of my work building a believable character, and actually part of building a believable ‘me’ outside of my work. Just.. “because that’s what I feel” is a bit of a cop out.

[cut]

As for Bullying, it’s like the moment the pot boils over, or it’s the poisoned stream that can’t be cleansed, so why bother. Well I think that’s what art is for. It’s can support the best and the worst of ourselves. We can ‘attack’ a canvas with black angry paint, we can ‘savage’ a piano keyboard, we can dance until we drop, we can read about a Puritan society who executed elders, we can explore the psychology of a serial killer, and when we can’t do this ourselves we can experience it, and witness it through others.

It’s more than being nice. Edward Munch’s “The Scream” is far from nice. Francisco Goya’s “Saturn” is horrific, Metallica, Die Antwoort etc etc. But then there is Monet, Faure, Renée Fleming, Peter Jackson, Ariana Grande (ok it’s getting a bit eclectic I admit) but when we look, listen and empathize, we tune in to the Human Condition.

We are all part of The Human Condition, whether we like it or not. Social Media. Expression. The Human Condition.

Us human beings are wired for emotion and connection. For actors, their career gives them a way to safely process and explore their personal wounds through the characters they play. For Richard in particular, his mars is conjunct his North Node. So, his mars and North Node are sextile his Chiron and MC.

Remember, Aries (the sign of Richard's Chiron and MC) is ruled by mars. Mars is the warrior planet, like Aries is the warrior sign. This means that Richard's spiritual journey/life's purpose (North Node) deals directly with healing his soul wound so he can accept and embrace his inner confidence and willpower. This explains why he ends up playing a lot of ultra-masculine characters – mars/Aries are the most macho of them all.

This isn't to say I think Richard should change who he is! I wouldn't be interested in him if he was ultra-masculine or macho. However, for his own sake, I would be overjoyed to see him gain more self-esteem and inner confidence.

Extrapolating from my own personal experiences, the constant criticism and judgement I received during my adolescence from my peers and various authority figures (like family members and teachers) for being unconventional and 'over the top' caused me to turn on myself and repress my passion and will-power for several years. I think it's highly likely that Richard experienced this too.

Here are some quotes from Richard that illustrate everything I've been talking about (emphasis is mine):

Armitage is still notably handsome, but, within minutes of meeting him, it’s apparent how incongruous it is that this bookish, sensitive, self-described ‘melancholic, philosophically-minded softie’ and ardent fan of The Great British Bake Off was cast as beefcake killer totty for a considerable part of his career. ‘It’s ridiculous. It’s the complete opposite to who I am. I’m such a pacifist,’ he laughs. ‘But then, part of me always felt: “Well, isn’t that why we’re actors?”

[cut]

'I think the turning point was losing my mum,” he says. “Up until that point, I felt like I mustn’t put a foot wrong, that if I said the wrong thing or revealed too much about my personal life, it could all come crashing down, and it would come down on my parents, and they wouldn’t be proud of me anymore.” He shrugs. “Now that I’m past that I’m actually much more carefree about the choices I make.” (source)

Richard Armitage puts his head in his hands and emits a noise that's somewhere between a sigh, a laugh and a groan. “Oh no! Why would you want to pin this up?” he says with a horrified whisper.

[cut]

Never has a man seemed more ill at ease with the heartthrob label. He squirms with embarrassment in his chair every time the subject comes up. He is grateful for the loyalty of his fans, he says, but worries that “there is this thing of, 'Is he just totty?' Because the industry will sometimes write you off as a serious actor if they think that. I have always been conscious of that and fought against it, because I don't really see myself like that at all.”

[cut]

This brings us back to Astrov, who looks so relentless towards the future that he can't see the truth in front of his eyes. “It's interesting that he's an outsider in the play. I've often felt like that myself in life. I'm quite a solitary person. I enjoy my time with me, and sometimes it's not necessarily healthy, because I can talk myself into quite a dark place.

I'm an optimist, but at the same time, there's a discipline in me that will attack me for not working hard enough, not achieving enough, not being good enough. You always think, 'I'll grow out of that. With success, those voices will disappear.' But they don't, they get louder. I suppose I'm learning a bit about myself through Astrov.” (source)

The answer in my humble opinion, (and believe me it is humble, to a point of taking 43 years to be shared) is actually something which applies to my work as an actor. … And back to acting, it’s taken me a long time to shake off the effects of bullying in school. That people were always laughing behind my back. I was always looking out of the corner of my eye. I now have incredible peripheral vision which is so useful, (as is Kinesthetic sense…Google it) but try being a brave, experimental, uninhibited actor with all of those hang ups. Wasn’t happening. (Human Condition essay)

So I kind of travelled on that line for a while, and I was bullied for it as well. The problem with me is that as soon as you try to push me down or say “you can’t do this” and “I don’t think you should do that”, I immediately push back. So I did – I’d decided really young that I was going to try to make a career out of it.

[cut]

Actually, there was something I wanted to add to what Shaun said, about inclusivity, is that um, no matter how – how much confidence you have or how, in my case, lack. Y’know, I always felt like a misfit, or an oddball, or that I didn’t belong. But I always – I always told myself that ‘you exist in the world, so therefore there’s a place for you in this industry’. I think anybody who feels like, “I can’t become an actor because…” – you exist. And, y’know, the job of filmmakers is to write about our life and society, and if you are a part of that, then there’s a place for you in the industry. (source)

I'm a bit of a brooder. I don't like confrontation, so I think I suppress things. When my temper does come out, it goes all the way – the kind of temper you can't apologize for. Yep, the chair getting thrown out of the window. Those emotions are scary, but hey, they come in useful when you're acting. (source)

Armitage is a noticeably calm presence but he talks with passion.

[cut]

In the past, he has described himself as a shy person. “Not any more,” he says forcefully. “I mean… if I’m very, very honest, I’m a big guy, I think I’m at times quite a frightening person.”

In what way?

“I think I’m quite uncompromising. I can’t bear bulls---. And in a way the shyness is me protecting other people from that. I can feel that there’s an intimidation that can happen if I own my full height, and speak at my full volume. So I’ve learned over the years to just tone it all down a bit.” (source)

I've become one of those actors who find it difficult to say no when things are offered. I think if I had come out of drama school and been an instant Hollywood superstar I would be taking long, leisurely holidays. But I always feel somehow it's going to be taken away from me so I work when I can. When you struggled with work as I did when I left drama school you make hay when the sun shines. There was a time when I thought, and my agent thought, it wasn't going to happen for me. We both sat down and I actually said I don't know if I can stay in this state. The interesting roles have only come since I got into my 30s. But I didn't know that was going to happen. I'm a bit of an all or nothing kind of guy. To be honest, I had no blind faith in myself. I don't think I could have stayed around as a jobbing actor. I would probably have quit. Who knows? I think I would have found that too frustrating. But at the moment when I thought I was going to quit, something happened and it all changed again. (source)

[talking about being cast in the Hobbit]

There was a little bit of guidance as to what they were looking for. I felt that I was too young for the character, too tall for that character, so I thought, you know, ‘I’ll just look at the scene they’ve written’. And then I realised the essence of the character that they were aiming for. So I went to meet Peter and Phillipa and we read some of the scenes. I think we spent an hour-and-a-half talking about the character and what their vision was, and I sort of explained who I thought he was, and that was it.

[cut]

Yeah, my first instinct, whenever that kind of thing happens, is to say, 'Well what's wrong with the part? Why did nobody else want it'? Which is kind of the story of my life really. When I get offered something, I'm like, 'Well there must be something wrong with it if they're offering it to me!'

[cut]

But you know, the thing is, you talk about all of this: ‘How did you get the role? And how did it feel when you got the role?’ And once all that’s died down you start to think, ‘I’ve actually got to go and play this now’. They’ve trusted me. Everyone’s happy, everyone’s celebrated, the phones have gone down and the deal’s been done. Now it’s over to me to make the role work. And that’s the scariest moment, because you do have that elation and then the work begins and you think, ‘How the hell am I going to do this?’ (source)

How was it for you taking on this beloved role, this character that has such a huge responsibilty on his back? Could you relate in some ways?

Richard Armitage: Yeah. There is always building within him this paranoia that he’s not a good enough leader, and that weighs him down. I have experienced that same feeling as an actor in this role. And I was aware of taking on the responsibility of that character, so there was something I could latch onto there, as one of the people who loved ‘The Hobbit’ book and had envisioned that character. It took me a while to be convinced that I could do it, it wasn’t until I saw some sketches, this one particular pencil sketch….there was something about this characters eyes and the way that his hands are crossed, I thought, “I think I can do this, I can pull this off.” (source)

Q: I wanted to ask you about what your Arkenstone is. For you personally.

A: Me personally?

Q: And I meant for this to be materialistic. What's the thing that you covet so much that it makes you mad that you don't have it?

A: Well, it's actually not material. It's not material, and it's – (laughs) You want a comedy answer, don't you? But it's respect. It's the thing that always eludes you, you know. You have to fight for it and when you get it, your arkenstone, the thing that crowns you, is respect.

Q: And also a sweater.

A: And a sweater. I do have this little natty number.

Q: It's a good one man.

A: Tom Ford made this personally. But hey, he can have it back. I don't covet wealth and material. (source)

Q6: You’ve done a variety of different roles, I wonder what influences you to pursue those roles?

R: More often than not, you go where you’re wanted. So getting hired is still kind of a revelation to me, a shock and a surprise. Sometimes you have very flat periods, where I don’t really care what comes next, I just want to work on something. I feel like I’ve got a little cloud of luck over my head so the right thing always seems to come along. But again, I’m easily excited about literature and stories, so I’ve always said I don’t really pursue glory, I’d happily do acting for two people in my living room if it was a role that I really enjoyed with a story I’d really like to tell. So it’s chance, I would say.

[cut]

Q8: Once in an interview about Thorin, you were asked what your arkenstone was and your answer was respect. I like this answer a lot. So I was wondering what’s your red dragon? As you said yesterday he’s a character who sheds his skin, improves, and becomes something. I was wondering if there was something you’d like to improve, become?

R: I guess the antithesis of that is disrespect. Do you mean in myself?

Q8: Yes.

R: Yeah I try not to be too disrespectful. I guess I value the truth. I think we’re living at a time at the moment where the truth is warped and there’s a word that’s been in my head for a long time, and particularly recently it’s come to the surface. When I was studying Macbeth, at the RSC, I read a long thesis about the gunpowder plot, which was one of the things they thought that Shakespeare (or whoever Shakespeare was) was stimulated by to write Macbeth. And the word equivocation was used in this thesis, it was actually about equivocation and what equivocation is. And if you look it up in the dictionary, at the moment most politicians are equivocating. When you don’t answer a question, or you bend the truth to make it seem like you are answering the question, and in fact you’re telling a lie. So I would say my red dragon would be equivocation.

[cut]

Then there was the physical form that I was studying and observing, but also, I do sometimes enjoy locking myself away in a room and reading a book or just doing something alone, and you sometimes can go a couple of days without speaking to anybody. I don’t know whether anyone else experiences this or whether I’m just a weirdo. But I find that when that happens my voice changes, and I always forget how to make a noise, I have to do a warm-up before I go into the world and start speaking again.

[cut]

Q15: I was wondering if you ever had to pull out of a project because it felt wrong or something, and what is the point where you say “nope I can’t do this”?

R: Um, no. But that’s partly to do with the fact that I have a lot of loyalty, probably too much loyalty for my own good, really, and there’ve been moment when I’ve been on board a project, and actually it happened this year with The Lodge, I was already on board that project and something else came along which was bigger and better and brighter and more money, and your agent says “look we can pull you out of The Lodge, they can probably recast it,” and here I think “I’ve already started this process, I don’t want to let people down,” and I don’t have a problem with that at all, I never have any regrets over the things that you miss or the things that you decide not to do, I think there’s a strong enough reason why you’ve decided not to do it, but in general no I haven’t ever pulled out of something. There was one television show I remember, I’m not going to say what it is, but after the first readthrough, I did call my agent and asked, “can I get out of this?” And then he quickly got back to me and said, “don’t do it. Don’t build a reputation built on disloyalty.” So I try not to.

[cut]

Q18: I think you are very handsome, but your character Francis hated the way he looked, how did that make you feel?

R: Francis hated the way he looked? Yeah. I guess there is something we relate to in that. Without getting too personal, I don’t always enjoy looking at myself in the mirror. I don’t do it very often, to be honest. I do it just to be sure I don’t have food on my face. I do it in character, actually. I do spend a bit of time studying my own face when I’m playing a character, which is interesting because your face does change. (source)

He cannot see the handsomeness: “I think I am odd-looking. I have big lines on my forehead.” I squint, looking for them, but he is talking over me, sounding slightly panicked. “I shouldn’t draw attention to it, because then everyone else will see the oddness.”

[cut]

Laziness is what makes him angry: “Laziness in myself. Laziness in other people. And dishonesty. All things I feel capable of myself. I have a propensity to be lazy and lie about it. Fear makes me rageful. There are words in The Crucible I actually find it quite hard to say.” I beg for an example — The Crucible is in the public domain. “No,” he says, “you’ll see it in the play.” I tell him it will make no sense in print if he will not tell me. But he won’t. So I change the subject. It works. “OK, I will give you a line.” He inflates a little and says: “Is there no good penitence but it be public?” And then: “Were I stone I would have cracked for shame this seven month.” (source)

Q: How would you describe your evolution as an actor since you started?

A: I think everything has to do with the fact that today I’m not afraid anymore. At first, I was embarrassed to do something wrong or do things badly or make myself ridiculous. Today, I am almost looking for opportunities to be ridiculous or vulnerable or to make as much of a mistake as possible. In a sense, it’s now the opposite of being undercover.

Q: Are you the actor you dreamed of being when you started?

A: Not yet. I am not yet fearless enough. It’s in waves, actually. But I have already approached this dream. There were moments, especially during Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, which I performed on stage, where I felt I had no control over things. That’s what I’m looking for: to lose control.

Q: You often play bad guys. What do you like in these characters?

A: I like disobedience. I like the fact that you can be disobedient thanks to your creativity. As a person, I must always be polite in life, be careful and correct so as not to hurt anyone. In a fantasy world, I can be as offensive as I want. It’s an outlet. (Laughter)

[cut]

Q: Many actors are moving to directing. Is this also your goal?

A: I would like to, but I do not think I’m smart enough. I am good when it comes to working with another’s vision. I do not think I have that creative spontaneity that creates a vision from scratch. But the future will tell. (source)

I applaud Richard for being so open and direct about his fears and insecurities. It takes a lot of bravery to do so. And while I've seen some fans get annoyed with his continual self-deprecation, I think his honesty and openness is much more significant, and shows his inner strength. He doesn't try to pretend to be someone he's not.

He recently described himself as “patient, obsessive, and silly” (source). The patient part is classic Virgo, and the obsessive part comes from an element of his natal chart that I have not mentioned.

The silly part, however, is classic Leo. Like I said above, he has an almost equal amount of Leo and Virgo in his personality. Personally, I'm proud to be a Leo, but I also know we get misunderstood a lot of the time. I wrote the following for an essay of mine on Leos in Disney:

Your sun sign represents your core identity. Just like the physical sun is the center of the solar system and its energy creates life, the astrological sun is our consciousness and life force. Each of the twelve sun signs are ruled by a different planet and element.

Since Leo is the fixed fire sign, we don't inherit the reckless and impulsive nature of fire, but instead are a steady flame. No sign is more reckless and impulsive than Aries, because they have the double combination of being a cardinal sign and a fire sign. Meanwhile, all four of the fixed signs struggle with stubbornness and admitting when their wrong.

Leo's are well known to be natural leaders and the rulers of the zodiac. We are ruled by the sun and our animal is the lion. We dream big and are born with big personalities, and we can't help but be theatrical and dramatic. This means we are always self-centered in the sense of being strong-willed and having a strong sense of self. It does not mean all Leos are egotistical.

Unhealthy Leo traits all revolve around the ego: attention-seeking, egotistical, selfish, bossy, controlling, pushy, jealous, possessive, lazy, vain, arrogant, aggressive, and obstinate.

Healthy Leos, however, are known for our fire-based traits – being animated, theatrical, happy, outgoing, independent, competitive, charismatic, creative, open-minded, open-hearted, confident, assertive, playful, warm, social, courageous, idealistic, affectionate, romantic, optimistic, and adventurous.

What isn't often talked about is our steadiness, our fixed-based traits. Leos are authentic, steadfast, fiercely loyal and protective, consistent, persistent, full-hearted, dedicated, need to do their best, generous and selfless, honorable and moral, genuine and direct, extremely supportive, hard-working and responsible, dignified, strong-willed, and ambitious and determined.

Something that is often mentioned but highly misunderstood is our trait of courage. Having courage doesn't mean you're fearless or reckless. The definition of courage is “the power or quality of dealing with or facing danger, fear, pain, etc.” It means that instead of running away from our problems or denying our emotions; healthy Leos face them and be genuine and direct with ourselves, embracing our vulnerability.

Having a big personality doesn't necessarily mean someone has a big ego. C.S. Lewis once said, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less.” Leos have huge hearts and are incredibly generous. The sun never goes retrograde, always shines, and gives life and energy to all living beings – it isn't selective or discriminatory. Healthy Leos are like mini suns; which is why we are also irrepressibly upbeat, optimistic, and fun-loving.

We're not pushovers. We are like roses – we have both flower petals and thorns. If you mess with someone we love you're going down. We're too loyal and protective to let major things slide; and even if we forgive, we never forget. Little things? We'll try to work them out with you.

Being naturally strong-willed and assertive is healthy – it just means we usually make horrible subordinates and yes people. There's nothing wrong with having high standards and being open about them. In fact, in relationships it's far better in the long run to open and frank about what you need and what you consider a dealbreaker from the beginning.

And oh yes are we ambitious and competitive – but most often with ourselves. We're natural leaders who always dream and think big. For a healthy Leo it's not about being the best, but doing your best. We have to be grand and intense, we're ruled by the sun. It's all or nothing for us. Settling is not something a Leo does. We need to be the best leader, the best friend, the best partner, etc. that we possibly can.

Also, in astrology each sign rules a different body part, and Leo rules the heart and upper back.

Adding to this, Leos are known as the Kings/Queens of the zodiac not because we're egotistical, but because our sun sign is the sun. It's like a double amount sun. I could go into significantly more detail about this, but it involves a lot of technical astrological details; so if anyone wants to know more just message me!

Going back to Richard, having his core self (sun) and love/beauty (venus) in Leo explains why he is an actor and artist; and why he is often warm, silly, and dramatic when he feels comfortable – his long interview with The Anglophile Channel (and it's deleted scenes) does a great job of showing the synergy between his Leo and Virgo sides.

We see Richard express the heartfelt, generous, sincere, and honorable side of Leo all the time. This is why I'm sure he has the inner-confidence and strength hidden within him to overcome the deep pain his Chiron causes him (like it does to us all). I hope he continues to find projects and people that help him on his journey to heal.

Thank you for reading this, I'm wishing him and you all the best. Take care!

[avengerscompound]

Until the End of the World - 16

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1645

Rating:  E

Warnings: Angst and PTSD

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together.  Things are calm and you feel like a family unit.  When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem.  When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 16

Bucky was beginning to feel hopeless.  Steve’s orders to Sam and Tony about looking for a cloaked van, had come to nothing.  Every van, small truck, and bus that Sam and Tony had scanned had shown nothing suspicious.  All the roadblocks they had set up came to nothing.  No cars coming in or out of the city were carrying either you or Geo.  You, Geo, and whoever it was that had snatched you had just vanished.

It was clear from the people that had been arrested at the scene that HYDRA was back.  Not that Bucky had been surprised.  He’d been in that organization for decades, it would take more than a raid on some drug factories to flush them out.  Unfortunately, the HYDRA agents that had been taken captive had mostly activated their cyanide pills, and those that hadn’t weren’t talking because they were much more concerned by what Viper would do to them than about any of the Avengers.  Steve and Bucky had both been banned from questioning any of them because of how close they were to the issue and Bucky wished Steve would do something to force them to be allowed.  Bucky understood HYDRA and he knew HYDRA understood him.  He’d only need twenty minutes and he knew he’d be able to get one of them singing like a bird.

Bucky had no idea what could have happened to you though.  Three options seemed most likely but he had no way of checking without breaking his orders and if he did that, it could mean the government would step in and have him arrested too, because if the Avengers can’t keep the Winter Soldier in line, then he was still a threat.  Yet, every minute that ticked by where you and Geo were still missing, he felt closer to just breaking orders anyway.   He knew HYDRA - and the way he figured you had either been moved off the island by helicopter or boat, you were being kept somewhere in the city with a private garage, or you’d been taken underground.

The worst part was Steve was ignoring him.  The pain Bucky felt from that was almost physical.  Like something had been torn out from his chest.  He wanted something - anything - to help him deal with this loss.  Comfort from his best friend and lover.  Orders to go follow through on.  Permission to question the prisoners or to look into his own leads.  Anything to make him feel less alone and useless.

He spent the night and most of the morning in the apartment waiting for Steve to come home or send for him.  He’d ask FRIDAY to make sure Steve knew he was waiting for orders and that he wanted to help.  He even called up Hill and asked her if there was anything he could do - and nothing.  All he was getting was dead air.  By lunch, he went to speak to his therapist.  He’d been listened to and in the end told that if he wanted to do something, he should go and confront Steve.  So he went straight up to the command room and stalked inside.

Tony was moving from one computer screen to another moving things around and tapping away on the keyboards.  Steve looked up when Bucky came in but his attention went straight back to the file he was looking at.

“Tony,” Steve said, without acknowledging Bucky.  “Can you do a scan on the city, see if there are any suspicious underground structures?   Maybe if we compare it to a public works map…?”

“You’ve got it, Cap,” Tony said and typed something into the computer.   “Will need to do a couple of adjustments on the Legion, but it shouldn’t take me too long.”

When Steve continued to ignore him, Bucky stalked over and leaned against the desk beside Steve, folding his arms over his chest.  The lights flickered in the building and Tony looked up.  “FRIDAY, what was that?”

“Brief power surge from outside,” the AI replied.  “I apologize, sir.”

“Just… don’t let it happen again,” Tony said.

“You just gonna ignore me?”  Bucky asked.

Steve sighed and looked up.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “It’s not you…”

“Yeah?”  Bucky said.  “Kinda feels like it’s me.”

Steve stood up.  “Let me know if anything pops up,” he said to Tony.

Tony looked up for a second.  “About time you took a break,” he said.  “Go on, I’ll keep watch.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve said and nodded to the elevator.  “Let’s talk.”

Bucky followed Steve to the elevator and leaned against the back wall.  “I lost them too, you know?”  He growled.

“I know,” Steve said, his eyes dropping to the floor.

“So what?  I gotta lose you too?”

The electricity flicked again and the elevator stuttered.  Bucky instantly went on edge, his mind immediately going to an attack.  Steve looked up and furrowed his brow.

“Sorry, Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY said, quickly. “We don’t use the city’s power supply, but we’re linked into it and feed excess power to the grid.  There seem to be intermittent surges from an outside source that are affecting our supply.  I’m working on a fix.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” Steve said and turned his attention back to Bucky.  “This is my fault.  We’ve lost her because I became complacent.”

The doors slid open onto their floor and Bucky followed Steve down the hall to their apartment.  Steve hadn’t been back since you were taken and Bucky noticed his eyes lingered on the coffee table where Geo’s Lego was still laying out.  Bucky could picture what was going on in Steve’s head because he’d been thinking the same thing all day.  ‘What were the chances that you and Geo were still alive if all they needed from you was your DNA?’

“So what?  I don’t even get to help?”  Bucky asked.  It snapped Steve’s attention back to him and he shook his head like he was trying to clear it.

“I just feel so guilty,” Steve said, making his way to the coffee machine and starting to fix a pot of coffee.  “You should hate me.”

Bucky frowned and stepped up behind Steve.  He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, gripping his hip with his flesh hand making sure his forearm pressed along Steve’s stomach.  The metal hand he pushed against Steve’s chest, holding him tightly.  “This isn’t your fault.  It’s Viper’s fault.  We both thought she was safe.  Even she thought she was safe.  Stop punishing yourself,” Bucky whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s ear as he spoke.  “But more importantly, stop punishing me.”

Steve turned and looked at Bucky.  “I’m sorry… I’m not…”

“You think you’re blaming yourself?”  Bucky interrupted.  “I’ve been willing something like this to happen since we first got together and every new good thing that happened I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I never thought I’d get to have this and I was waiting for the rest of you to be punished since I got here.  And now they’ve been taken - by the very people who had me and used me as their own personal soldier toy.  I know… logically that what’s going on has nothing to do with what happened to me - but Steve - I also know that it’s everything to do with what happened to me.”

Steve frowned and took Bucky’s hand.  “Buck…”

Bucky pulled his hand away and shook his head.  “And since we got back, you’ve been avoiding me so now I have absolutely no doubt it has to do with me.  Because if it wasn’t my fault you’d have asked me to help.  So I’ve been sitting here, hoping that you’ll at least give me something to do because you’re sure as hell not going to tell me it’s not my fault or lean on me for support when I’m to blame.  And then when you wouldn’t even use me as a weapon - when I know HYDRA better than anyone else - I went to therapy.  The therapist told me to come to you and tell you how I felt.  So here I am, Steve.  I know this is my fault even if it isn’t and I need you to use me.”

“I’m sorry, Buck,” Steve said and pulled Bucky close, wrapping him in his arms and holding him.  “I’m sorry.  I should have at least kept you in the loop.  I am so afraid right now, and I never feel like that.  I am always so sure about every choice I make and I’m terrified and I feel useless.”

Bucky nuzzled into Steve’s neck and held him too.  “I wanna help,” Bucky said.  “Let me go interrogate someone.  I know how they work.”

Steve nodded.  “I think it’s about time we both go make that happen.  I warned Viper of what would happen if she threatened my family.”

Bucky let out a soft puff of air against Steve’s neck.  Almost a laugh but not quite and coming from a place of relief more than humor.  “Well... we better make good on our word.”

Bucky very slowly pulled back, as he did, Steve leaned in and kissed him.  Bucky flinched at first, not quite expecting it, but soon melted into the kiss, first matching the tender caress of Steve’s lips and then tilting his head and deepening it.  There was something to the kiss that wasn’t usually there.  A need that had nothing to do with sex or passion, and everything to do with a need for affection and support.

The lights flickered again and then seemed to flash, first three long times on and off, then three short, and three long again.

Steve and Bucky both pulled apart quickly and looked up.  “FRIDAY?  Was that…?”  Steve asked.

“Sir,” FRIDAY replied, sounding very uncertain for the AI that usually knew everything.  “I think… I think Geo is sending us a message.”

// NEXT

[cherriesradio]

Class 1-A relationship headcanons

Part 1 -> https://cherry-cake-pies.tumblr.com/post/640877154337538048/mha-relationship-headcanons-class-1-a

Fluff

Mashirao Ojiro

Remember when you where a little kid and would collect flowers at recess and give them to your teacher? Yeah that’s him

Makes little flower crowns

Idk this boy just really likes flowers okay

Their a secret for a while and because he’s not friends with everyone no one really “finds out” and the just tell the class

Aizawa kinda knew they were together the whole time it was obvious it’s just no one paid attention

Y/n is willing to get in fight for people they care for and Ojiro will just pull them away with his tail from beating some kid who made fun of Deku

They call him “Lovely little Monkey” cause he’s only 5’4 or around there and they find it cute

When it gets more serious he makes a vow to them that he will never hit them or hurt them in anyway and it’s the sweetest thing ever

When y/n is having a bad day he’ll just come at them with a million bad puns and pick up lines to make them laugh

Y/n likes wearing his Martial Arts clothes and he’s like “would you actually wanna learn?” And after a second of thinking they nod their head at rapid speed

Denki and y/n are the only people who can touch his tail (him and Denki are great friends try to change my mind)

When he’s a pro hero y/n and him are partners and they don’t tell the public their together

Every fan ships them

So one day they think no one is watching them after a fight and they kiss and congratulate each other on how good they did

Turns out there were a ton of cameras around them and it was on the news

Y/n almost killed the network ngl

Denki Kaminari

He may seem like a perv but he’s only a perv at home don’t worry ❤️

Anyways (cause writing THAT made me uncomfortable)

Y/n makes him study and sometimes he doesn’t and they’ll check to see if he’s studying and at some point their just like

“I’m gonna study with you to make sure you study”

He did study when they were with him :)

Drop kicks Mineta when he hits on y/n even tho he knows y/n and him are dating

When y/n doesn’t know he’s there he’ll go up to them and give them a small zap and they’ll giggle

(Okay druggie Denki coming through) y/n helps him get out of addiction 😌

Puts him in rehab if it’s bad bad

Once Bakugo made fun of their relationship and behind Denki’s back y/n beat him to the ground and the next day he had a black eye and some bruises and Denki was like “bro what happened” “nothin”

They mess with Ojiro’s tail together

Y/n will rant and he just sits staring at them and nodding occasionally

👏watching 👏crappy 👏 tv shows / movies 👏 together 👏👏👏👏👏

When he’s in dumbass mode y/n will throw him over their shoulder and bring him to the dorms and the whole class finds it so funny

On Twitter and other social media they will post a pic of the other and the text is just a keyboard smash

Before they got together he would do that but in the Bakusquad group chat and Bakugo just left the chat at some point cause he was tired of random clearly not asked for pics of y/n and just “akaoqiwbbejwhbwoqj I thinking I’m simping”

Relationship is not a secret whatsoever

He just went up to them in the middle of lunch, got down on one knee, took one of their hands and asked them to go out with him and after bursting into laughter y/n said yes

The embodiment of “COUPLES ARE A COMPETETION AND I AM WINNING HAVE YOU SEEN MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER!?!??”

He’s protective but also if no ones eyeing y/n or hitting on them he’ll low key be offended for y/n like “how dare they not find you to be the hottest/ cutest/ most wonderful being in the universe?”

Kirishima

If y/n is tired after training then he’ll pick them up bridle style and the Bakusquad calls him a simp

It’s literally the most healthy relationship you could ever imagine

Neither will hesitate to call the other out if their being unfair/ not putting effort into the relationship or “unmanly” as Kirishima says

Makes sure each of them get a good amount of self care as well as taking care of the other

Rarely fight, get in arguments but settle it out peacefully and with respect for one another

He would break up with y/n if they make him feel less or like he has to “be good enough for them” because he heavily values self worth because of this insecurity’s in middle school

Y/n makes him feel like he can do anything tho so don’t worry

Sometimes y/n just sits down and stares at Kirishima whiles he’s ranting about something he’s passionate about and smiling

Then he’s like “why are you staring?”

Y/n: *absolutely star struck* “u pretty”

Has hot coco in the summer

Making pillow/ blanket forts and when their done using them jumping on top and destroying them

Y/n will run at him from behind and he hears their footsteps and then shifts to pick them up for a piggy back ride

Swinging their arms around when they hold hands 😫

Y/n snorts when they laugh and their insecure about it and then Kirishima is like “okay then I’ll not try to make them laugh to much so they don’t snort and feeling bad!” And then y/n thinks he’s less interested in them

And then he makes up for it in making them laugh a ton (like to where they start coughing) and cudddle up to them and tell them how he loves their snort

Get each other gifts and ONLY gives them in front of the rest of the class to flaught how much they adore each other

Fist bumps are a form of intimate affection and you can’t change his mind

So are high fives

Even if they break up they will still be really good friends

Kirishima metions how he really likes how Bakugo makes a random food and y/n will force him to teach them how to make it

Forehead kisses Forehead kisses Forehead kisses Forehead kis-

Has a new pet name for each other every day

Fat gum has to approve (he does, he adores y/n)

Kirishima and y/n definitely call him dad

Tamaki meets them and after he tells Kirishima “their really nice you have good taste” and then feels bad because he made it sound like food

All four are just best friends and after the raid y/n totally takes them all out for boba or something like that because they are proud

Kouji Kouda (Koda)

Very, very slow relationship

It was like 6 months in before they kissed

Every time he leaves a room he’ll be like “bye I love you!”

Doesn’t get jealous at all

Like a guy could literally slap their butt and he’ll just sit their like “well that’s not very friendly” and then y/n tells him how it made them uncomfortable and he’s like “OH NO I SHOULD OF HELPED”

Dates at the park

Y/n will see like a squirrel or bird or something and be like “Koda Koda go say hi tell it hi for me please”

The type to look up how to be romantic and he just sits at his computer like “why would I kiss them in the rain????? We would be wet and uncomfortable?????”

First date is at a petting zoo

They (Koda would not propose) proposed at that same petting zoo but made arrangements to where no one else would be there so he wouldn’t be embarrassed

Legit learning Morse code or silent language so he doesn’t have to talk

Little notes left on their desk before their together and y/n’s friends are all like “you have a secret admirer~~~” and he glances over to blushing y/n and stiffens, blushing

Y/n always getting the spiders

At first wanted to do the “cover with a glass slip a piece of paper let it free” method but then he got paranoid they got back in the dorm

At the start of the relationship whenever y/n even breaths he’s staring at the ground blushing

Once they were cuddling and he had his head in their chest (uncomfortable for y/n but they deal) and they started singing and he melt on the spot

When they feel down in the morning and Koda can’t walk with them back to the dorms for whatever reason a trail of little rabbits and other cute animals will follow them trying to cheer them up

Rikidou Satou

Constantly baking for y/n, after something runs out he will have something even better ready to give to them

Teaches has them to bake

Self doubts when y/n is around good looking people and tries to show off his muscles to show that he’s worth them

Y/n knows he deserves them ❤️

Some times he’ll make something super sugary and shares with the class and their all like “????? This is so sugary I can’t eat this???????”

And y/n is munching on it and everyone knows that he makes them stuff like this all the time

“How in the world are you still fit?” “Lots and lots of working out and only eat healthy outside of it. No chips or anything , and it’s fine”

Randomly declares that he loves random thing about them

“I love how their hair smells after they shower!” “Okay Satou anyways when are we gonna-“

Y/n said he was a good kisser once and now every time he sees them walk in the room he makes a kissy face

Taking random walks around campus

And they talk to people they pass by

Like so many people around the school know about them and they become known as “that one really cute walking couple”

[change-the-world-someday]

Don’t You Go

@ogmilkis asks:

hey i love your writing b (your last one(all of them really) was *chefs kiss*)💕 would you be willing to do 10 from the John Mulaney promt list?? no specifics i just wanna see what you do with it 😂

A/N: You're very kind about my work, thank you :). Keep sending these requests in, guys, they really help my imagination run.

Prompt: 10. “I am very small and I have no money, so you can imagine the kind of stress that I am under.” 

BAU x GN!Teen!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Your parents are linked with four murders around town. However, things aren’t as rosey as they seem in your house...

⚠️TW⚠️ Child abuse mentioned, General Criminal Minds things, Murder mentioned

Masterlist

—•—

You shift in the uncomfortable seat, your wrists aching from the handcuffs. You play with your hands, fiddling with the ring on your right hand, twirling it and shifting it up and down your middle finger.

You weren't planning on being caught. Hell, you weren't planning on stealing in the first place, but life has a way of twisting things and somehow pulling the worst from every situation. You just needed something to eat and drink.

The door opens and your head snaps up and two people walk in. There's a younger, pale woman with blonde hair and an older man who's more tan with grey, swept-back hair. They take a seat opposite you and the man opens a file.

"So, Y/N L/N, the only child of Sandy and Darren L/N. Do you mind telling us why you were stealing from the store?"

You sit back and sigh. You don't say a word. The woman who asked the question huffs, making the older man place a hand on her shoulder.

"Okay, let's try something else," he starts. "JJ, do you mind leaving us for a few minutes?"

The blonde, JJ, nods and stands, leaving to presumably stand behind the one-way glass you’ve been staring at intently since you were forced into the interrogation room.

"My name's Dave Rossi. Now, why did your parents hide you from us? I mean, surely you know your parents are under investigation..."

Your attention is grabbed by this, and though you try not to show it, Rossi picks up on the subtle shift in body language. "Wait, you don't know?"

You speak up. "N-No. I b-barely see them."

Rossi raises an eyebrow. "Is that why you were in the store, trying to steal some food from the top shelf?" He bites back a smirk as he remembers how you were caught—you were trying to reach the top shelf and fell into it, crashing to the ground and your backpack opening, spilling out stolen food.

"Look, I'm very small and I have no money, so you can imagine the kind of stress that I am under," you scoff out, still playing with your jewellery. Rossi leans forward a little, trying to close the gap between you.

"Don't your parents give you money for food?" Rossi asks. You shrug.

"They spend it...elsewhere," you reply and try to stop fidgeting. "I don't see them, and they don't tell me anything."

Rossi nods and pulls something out of his pocket; a key. "They must hurt." You nod and lean forward, letting Rossi unlock the cuffs. You smile a little, muttering a quiet 'thank you' before you rub your wrists, soothing them. That feels better.

"Are they ever around?" Dave asks. His tone of voice has shifted from slightly harsh to softer, almost fatherly. You shake your head and Rossi sighs. He leans back.

"Is there anywhere you can stay while we investigate your parents?" You shake your head again. "Okay. We can keep you here until the shopkeeper decides if she wants to press charges. We can make sure you're fed, too."

Rossi gets up and walks out, leaving you behind. He bumps into his team in the other room, who was watching through the one-way mirror.

"What are we going to do?" He asks Hotch. The unit chief sighs.

"The shopkeeper doesn't want to press charges. Y/N’s known for stealing small amounts of food from shops around town. They tend to just ignore it since they know what their parents are like. I say we keep them here, make sure they’re comfortable at least, and then we can see what Garcia's pulled up on the parents." Hotch gives the rundown and the team nod.

Suddenly, his phone rings. He picks up. "Garcia? What have you got?"

He puts her on speaker. "Sir, it turns out Y/N’s parents are related to the distribution of heroin around the country and guess what? Three of our four victims were involved in it too," she explains quickly, keyboard clacking in the background.

"And what about the fourth, baby girl?" Morgan asks.

"She knew the mother."

"It did seem that the fourth victim was a more personal attack. She was stabbed fifteen times more than the rest," Spencer pipes up. Hotch nods.

"Okay, thanks, Garcia," Hotch thanks and hangs up, turning back to his team.

"Morgan and Prentiss, I want you to go to the house with a warrant and search top to bottom. Check Y/N’s room, too. JJ, release a statement to the press that we want to find these two. Dave, you're with me. We'll search the town and go over the crime scenes, see if there's anything the police missed. Reid, I want you to stay with Y/N. You're the youngest and they'll probably be less standoffish with you. Try and ask them some questions about their parents and the fourth victim. JJ, join him after."

Everyone goes their separate ways and Reid goes back into the interrogation room. You look up and relax a little, seeing it isn't the local PD.

"Hi Y/N, I'm Spencer," the young man introduces himself. You nod.

"Hi," you mumble.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink? We can get you pretty much anything," Spencer asks. You think for a minute and nod.

"C-Can I have some...ramen, please?" You ask shyly. Spencer gives a bright smile and nods, quickly texting JJ to pick something up.

"Can I ask you some questions please?" The doctor asks. "You don't have to answer any if you don't want to, but it could help us."

You think before nodding, messing with your ring again. "C-Can you..." You trail off.

"Can I?" Spencer asks.

"Do you have...something I can mess with, p-please? The ring's hurting my finger." Spencer nods and digs into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys and handing them over.

"They okay?" You nod. "Okay. Do you know Caitlyn?"

Silence. You’ve stopped messing with the keys. You nod. "How?"

"She...She's my friend. She told me..." You pause. "She told me she'd help me get away."

Spencer nods. "Get away from where?"

"My...my parents," you finish, messing with Spencer's keys again.

"Did your parents ever...come home with blood on them?"

You look down and nod. "When did that start?"

"Erm..." you think, "a-about a month ago. I wasn't allowed t-to ask." Your hands start to shake. "They...they..."

"Hey, Y/N? You're okay. Everything's okay," Spencer starts to reassure you. "They can't get you. You're okay."

You let out a shuddering breath and nod. Suddenly, the door opens and you jump out of his skin. It's the blonde woman from before, and she's holding a cup of ramen, steaming, with a plastic fork sticking up in it.

"Spencer? Hotch wants to talk to you," she says. The young agent nods and leaves, letting JJ take his seat. She hands you the ramen and you give a grateful nod, slurping it.

"S-Sorry," you mutter. JJ gives a soft smile and shakes her head.

"It's alright. I don't mind," she replies. You nod and continue eating, only stopping to take a breath now and then. In five minutes, the food's gone.

"W-Where is everyone?" You ask after a little while. JJ looks up from her phone, pausing the video you’re watching together.

"Well, Spencer's with Hotch, and the other one you've met, Rossi, is talking with the police to see if we can get you a bed set up in here. It would mean you don't have to go to the cells and you don't have to sleep in that chair," she explains.

"Hotch?"

"He's our boss. His name's Aaron, but Hotch is his nickname. Do you have a nickname?"

You shake your head. "N-Not really. My parents call me names, but n-not a nickname."

"How about N/N?" JJ asks. You think about it for a moment, before a small smile breaks out on your face.

"I-I like that," you mutter. "Yeah."

"N/N suits you, kid," a voice says from the door. You look up to see Rossi. He's holding a folding camp bed in his arms. Behind him is a sterner-looking man with a blanket and pillow. "We've got you a bed. None of us want you to go to your parents' house, and CPS can't come until morning."

You nod and lean back, playing with something in your hands.

"What you got there?" The other man asks.

"K-Keys," you reply. His eyes narrow.

"They're mine," someone says; Spencer. "I gave them to them to play with."

"S-Sorry. You c-can have them b-back. I'm s-sorry," you stammer out. Spencer shakes his head and walks over.

"It's okay. I don't need them at the moment," he reassures you. You nod.

Suddenly, radios flare up and almost everyone bolts out the room, leaving behind you and Rossi. Your eyes widen.

"W-What g-going on? D-Did I-"

"No kiddo, you haven't done anything wrong," Dave cuts in as he makes up the bed. "We've just had a hit on your parents..."

—•—

Part two anyone? Let me know if you’d like to see it :). Also, let me know if you want to be on my taglist. Just drop an ask :)

TAGLIST:

@ogmilkis @spideygirl2003 @ssebstann@herecomesthewriterwitch @garcias-batcave

[wordynerdygurl]

A Wonderful Christmastime

Author’s Note:  Well Hello All!  I hope that you’re all taking care of yourselves and staying well!  My tag-list is open and you know I love the validation of reblogs, shares, tags and adds!! I have been working on a larger OC story which has kept my from my Loki writings, but I entered a challenge posted by @toomanystoriessolittletime​ for the Christmas holiday.  If you aren’t following, please do as she’s got a great little Advent Calendar of seasonal stories for you!  One a day through the month of December!  

I chose a prompt based off of my least favorite Christmas song.  Ever.  Like in the history of humanity.  Like, my family torture me with it because of how much I dislike it.  This story is a chance to take a little lighthearted revenge on Sir Paul McCartney and also, hopefully, help you all enjoy a Wonderful Christmastime!   Also, isn’t this gif the cutest thing in the world?  My thanks to the OP and creator for it... it’s amazing and I love Christmas Loki!! Pairing:  Female Reader x Loki

Summary:  Everyone has a favorite holiday song... when Loki learns which one you dislike, he uses it to his advantage. Warnings:  Christmas holiday mentions, SMUT, Oral (F receiving) and MF Sex, also, the over use of a certain song that makes me, personally, crazy!

This was it.  That perfect moment when all of the holiday hustle was behind you.  Nothing to buy, nothing to ship, nothing to wrap, nothing to bake.  It was all over.  You had made it through another Christmas Eve.

Your well decorated tree sat in the corner, presents tucked below for you and Loki in the morning.  The frittata was resting in the fridge along with the two bottles of Prosecco you planned to have with brunch.  Hell, it was the holidays, after all.

But that was for tomorrow.

Tonight you were relaxing after an afternoon of family Christmas fun.  Nieces and nephews, piles of shredded paper, stacks of snacks and so much laughter your belly muscles were sore.  And through it all Loki had been a champ! Holding your hand, rubbing the small of your back, pulling out your chair; Loki had put the other partners to shame.  Whether he was telling bawdy but tasteful jokes to the men who drank cheap beer around the TV, sharing hair care tips with your sister’s oldest girl or whispering with your mom in the kitchen, he was always where he needed to be.  For the first time in ages, you had been able to enjoy the day fully, and you knew Loki was the reason why. After getting home, trading your dress and boots for comfy shorts and a sweatshirt, you padded into the living room.  Loki was there, sitting cross legged, digging through your bag of swag.  He had put seasonal music on in the background while munching through a plate of Auntie’s sugar cookies, two well poured goblets of red wine waiting to be had at his side.  God, he was good. “Is one of those for me?”  You couldn’t help smiling.  Loki, looking like a little kid, over excited and surrounded by all the trapping of Christmas just felt so precious. It took him a moment to reply as he was solely focused on the handmade puzzle box your mother had crafted for all the guys this year, “Hmm?  Yes… one’s for you…” Kissing the top of his head, careful not to dislodge his Rudolf blinking antler headband, a gift to Loki from your youngest nephew, you moved towards the couch.  Sipping from your glass of wine, snuggled under the softest chenille blanket your sister-in-law could find, you sighed contentedly.  Victory over the holiday season felt amazing.  Now all that was left on your to-do list was eating, drinking, and enjoying alone time with Loki until New Year’s.  Suddenly exhausted, you felt the lovely warm drag of drowsiness and snuggled deeper into the sofa.  Shuttering your tired eyes, you listened as Loki stood up, off to hunt up some more food, no doubt.  Visions of sugarplums danced in your head as you started to succumb to a sweet slumber. That’s when you heard it.  

“The moon is right, The spirit’s up, We’re here tonight and that’s enough…” Groaning, wide awake now, you sat up with a shout, “Loki?!”  Like magic his raven head popped around the doorframe, his reindeer antlers askew, a candy cane hanging out of his mouth, “Yes?”

“Um… question:  What are we listening to?” Stepping back into the living room, his new holiday flannel shirt open at the neck, Loki leaned over you, husking playfully,  “Music.  At least, that’s what I believe you Midgardians call it.” “Ha ha.  Yes, I know it’s music, but this particular song?”  You couldn’t keep the tartness from your tone as you pressed your nose into the handsome one on Loki’s face. Pausing, listening intently, Loki cocked his head to the side.  Singing along, his bells jingling, “Simply having a Wonderful Christmastime!” “Ugh.  That’s what I was afraid of!”  Flinging a hand over your eyes, you grumbled, burrowing back into the cozy couch as a means of blocking out the obnoxious noise of the worst holiday song in the history of humanity. Making himself comfortable at your feet, pouring himself another glass of vino, “I like it.  It’s simple.  Direct.  What are you doing?  Me?  I’m simply having a wonderful Christmastime!” From deep in the cushions, muffled but forceful, you pleaded, “Make it stop!  Please!” “What for?  It is still Christmastime, is it not?  And we are enjoying a wonderful time, aren’t we?” Turning back to face him, a Scrooge-like scowl on your suddenly serious face, “I’ll do anything to get you to turn that off.” That got his attention, “Anything?”  Sitting up quickly, you reached for your blanket only to feel Loki snatching it out of your grasp, “You said anything, darling.” Tugging on the plush fabric, practically pouting, “You’re not going to take my new fluffy blankie, are you?” “Oh no.  That’s not nearly enough to stop me from playing my favorite Christmas carol.”

“It’s your favorite, now?  Loki, you just heard it.” Waving your gripes away, pinning you under his arms and under your blanket, “I love it.  It’s my favorite.  You can’t mess with perfection.”

You wiggled, trying to free an arm or a hand, anything to help defend yourself from Loki’s soft, but effective attack, "Perfection?  Loki, it's awful."

"I disagree.  But…”  Brushing a gentle kiss to your captive lips, making you melt into his warm touch, Loki made sure to keep you immobile.  Unraveling under his ardent attention, you gave up fighting, focusing on Loki’s roving hands through the protective layer of your new throw.  

Lost in his lips, you ignored the wretched recording still spinning, until sitting back with a sly smile Loki continued, “Regardless of my newly acquired antlers, I am a reasonable man.  I'm willing to hear your side of things.  Convince me, dove."

Looking up at him through your lashes, licking over your bottom lip that tasted of Loki's peppermint, it took you a moment to refocus on your argument.  Sighing doggedly, “It’s just garbage.  Too sweet, too synth-pop.  It’s plastic.  There’s no substance to it.”

At least Loki did you the service of considering your answer.  He paused, listening to the offending tune, starting to hum along once more.  “I don’t know.  It sounds like church bells ringing.  And I like when the kids start singing!”

“You couldn't.  Those are two of the worst things about it!  There’s not a single redeemable factor in it’s trite,  super saccharine, four minute run time.”  Agitated now and edging into anger, your voice kept rising, spurned on by the inability to get away from Loki’s plush prison, “Also, get off me!” “Can’t do it.  But-” nuzzling into your neck, tasting along the tendon there, “-I can replay this song.”  “That’s it!”  Fury tinted your words as you tried harder than ever to break free of your fleece prison but Loki was brick heavy, unmovable, and impossibly giddy at your predicament.  All things which only added fuel to your fire.  Wriggling like mad, struggling to kick a foot free, you squirmed desperately for leverage.  His response?  A deep chuckle, “Is that all you’ve got, darling?”  Laying those long, lanky bones on top of you, holding down the throw’s corners in a way that made fighting futile, Loki smirked at your distress, “I still don’t see why you hate it so much.  It is a simple song because we’re simply having a wonderful Christmastime!  It’s in the title after all.” With cheeks hot from exertion, fully frustrated and forced to listen to Paul McCartney’s bland holiday ballad start a second time, you nearly shrieked, "I hate it, Loki!  Loathe it, really!  The lyrics are basic, the keyboard is tinny, and Sir Paul is better than that!” “Is that all?” “No!  It's even worse when someone else sings it, like those kids from Glee or an up and coming Country artist making their first holiday record!"

Beneath the blanket your chest rose and fell with bothered breaths.  From rubbing against the couch your hair stuck up in odd angles and you could feel heat rising off your neck.  How had you gone from almost asleep to a blanket related battle royale?  Loki, taking advantage of your confinement, kissed your forehead sweetly, and the change in tactic caught you off guard.  His lips grazed the tip of your nose as you huffed out a pout, eager to see where his mischief making would lead.  Pressing his forehead to yours, that deep sonorous voice whispering lowly for your ears alone, "Not a compelling enough argument for me to turn it off, I'm afraid." And to your holiday horror the song in question started again.  Grousing, "Don’t play it again!  Please!  I’m begging you!” “Already begging darling?”  Thick with mocking, Loki slotted himself between your thighs, keeping you from fighting back with any power. Whining full out now, poking out your bottom lip, “Come on!  Please, let me up and turn this off!” “Why, of course, my pearl.”  With no effort on his part, Loki scooped you up, blankie and all, pulling you tightly to his chest.  Gripping your bottom, his fingers firm through the cotton of your pj pants, he squeezed hard enough for you to yelp. “Hey!”  But that’s all you managed before his talented tongue invaded your mouth.  Now the only thing you could hear was the shaky exhale of your shared sighs and your own needy mewls when Loki started to withdraw.

Godly hands drew your thick and comfy sweatshirt over your head, leaving you bare against the cuddly softness of your new blanket, a perfect dichotomy to the heated hardness of Loki’s chest.  With your arms finally free you tangled your hands in the long tresses of your lover, distracted from the awful music by his groan, “Easy darling.” But now that the tables were tipped in your favor, you had no intention of going easy on Loki.  Not after his antics tonight, not a chance.  Tugging hard enough for him to wince, you ground against his lap with a nip to his neck, “Turn it off then.”

“Now, why would I do that?  Aren’t we still enjoying a Wonderful Christmastime?” Bouncing in his lap, purposefully teasing your mischief maker with a smirk, “We were until you let this terrible song play!” Laughing heartily, Loki stroked over your bare shoulder, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek.  “If I wanted to, my darling, I could change your mind.  I could make you adore this song.” “Is that so, Odinson?  I doubt it.”

“Doubt me?  On this, Christmas Eve!  When you know the feelin’s here that only comes once a year?” A confident nod was all he got for an answer.  In a flash you were laying on the soft rug, your legs wrapped over Loki’s and your new blanket tossed to the side.  Fiery kisses to your chest and neck led him to the shell of your ear where he hummed hungrily, “The moon is right, the spirits up…” Enjoying his mouth but not his music, you shoved against his shoulders, panting, “Don’t sing, just kiss me.” Licking into your mouth, Loki’s tongue obliged your need as his hands skated over the curve of your hip, breaking your kiss to croon, “We’re here tonight, dove… and that’s enough.”

“Loki… please stop…”  You fisted his shirt, pulling at the buttons until his muscular torso was under your fingers, strong and solid.  Pushing the plaid cotton off his shoulders, you let your nails drag over Loki’s naked back as you shifted your hips, subtlety be damned. He took the hint.  Nipping a trail over your tummy, Loki kept his eyes on yours as he shucked your shorts, snorting, “No panties?  Naughty!” “If that’s naughty, Loki, then what you’re doing to me is positively evil.” That made your lover grin, his eyebrows lifting in a wickedly Grinchy smile before caressing the inner skin of your thigh with his clever mouth.  Slithering closer to your center, sweeping his tongue in swirls, you couldn’t help the excited shiver he created.  It was enough to block out the terrible song now that you had something more arousing to hold your attention. Using those long, deft fingers, Loki parted your folds with a murmured moan, “You’re so wet, darling.  Maybe you like this song more than you let on?” A curse for him and his rotten taste in Christmas music died in your throat as Loki connected to your sacred skin through a carnal kiss.  Those strong forearms ensured that your knees stayed open wide as his tongue tasted, teasing your clenching cleft, humming with appreciation at your body’s response.  Circling your clit, sucking gently before changing direction and licking your lower lips once more, Loki had you teetering on the cliff of climax in minutes.

Your stomach tensed, ready for release.  Delicious waves of orgasmic bliss were pulsing through you, needing just a touch more friction, a little more pressure in order to crash over you.  Gasping out incoherent whimpers, fingers ruffling Loki’s dark hair, you can’t fight the neediness that he’s created in you. It just feels so incredible, something Loki knows you’re enjoying, “Like that, darling?” Passion clouds your vision as your desire crests, unfulfilled, “You know I do, Loki…” Fingers slide sensually through your slit, his bright eyes on you, “How much?  How much do you like it?” Shaking your head, still foggy with needs unmet, “So much, baby.  I love making love to you so much.” Bumping against your swollen bud, pressing down firmly, Loki begins using his hands to entice you towards ecstasy.  Two fingers enter you easily, delightful, sure, but not as filling as Loki’s hard member.  Reaching for him, you want to lose yourself in loving and being loved by your space god, “Sing for me, dove.” Beseeching you breathlessly, Loki’s hand stills, keeping you at the fringe of falling apart.  Waiting for your reply impatiently he asks again, “Sing, please.” “A song?” His reply is a shake of his dark head.  Slowly, smoothly, Loki withdraws his fingers, only to press them into your yielding flesh once more, “Yes, my darling.  Sing my favorite song!”

Sucking a bruise onto your inner thigh, those fingers of his spreading your walls, the exquisite pressure on your straining clitoris.  Any one of these distractions would have been hard to concentrate through.  Experiencing them all together?  Overwhelming.

And that’s the excuse you would use to explain what happened next.  “The party’s on… The feeling’s here…” As soon as the words left your lips, Loki’s attention resumed in earnest, “That’s it, dove!  Keep going!” “That only comes, this time of year… Ah!  Loki!” Loki watched you lustily.  Your eyes half closed, legs splayed lewdly, a nervous grin on your face.  He never wanted you more.  Slipping out of his jeans, wasting no time, Loki guided his hardened cock into you with a satisfying sigh. Your response to his abundance?  “Oh shit, Loki!  Yes!”  Snapping his hips against your pelvis, iron banded arms clinging to you, Loki stuttered, “I don’t hear you singing!” “We’re simply having a Wonderful Christmastime!”  How many times did you repeat the chorus?  Hard to say.  It became a mantra.  A thing to chant in time with everyone of Loki’s deliberate and deep thrusts. This time, when you felt the familiar stirring of your satisfaction, Loki didn’t stop you.  Encouraging you with a soulful kiss, his stroke surging in time with Paul McCartney’s crooning, you came apart in each other’s arms with a smile.  The song started again and you couldn’t stop the giggles from bursting out of you, “What’s so funny, dove?” “You said you could make me like this terrible, horrible, awful song.” Sitting up and taking you with him, Loki chuckled as he kissed your hand, “Hey, don’t make fun of the best holiday song I have ever heard.”  Pulling your new blanket around the both of you, “I still hate it, but-”

“But?”, his eyebrow arched in surprise, waiting for you to continue.

“But I don’t hate it as much.” Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, playfully ribbing you, “Do I have to force you into having another Wonderful Christmastime?” Biting your bottom lip, you returned the favor by sweeping a stray lock of Loki’s black hair over his shoulder, “Babe, you could make crazy, insane love to me each day and every night… and-” “And?”  Kissing Loki lightly on the nose, you stood up on shaky legs and started towards the hallway.  At the entry way you turned back letting the blanket fall to the floor, “-And Wonderful Christmastime would still suck.”  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To My Many Minxes:  @toomanystoriessolittletime @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity @mizfit2 @sammy-jo1977 @wolfsmom1 @jessiejunebug @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person @roguewraith

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

College AU Week 1 Day 1 - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

A/N: Day One of the January AU Writing Challenge is with my man Santiago. This is my first AU story ever and I hope I did okay. Thank you to everyone who reblogs, comments, likes and supports my writing! 

Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Reader 

Warning: 18 + for language 

My Masterlist 

You keep reserving the good study room in the corner of the library with the windows. 

This was going to be your year. The long-awaited final semester of college had finally arrived. While your friends had spent their weekends partying, drinking, and procrastinating, you’d been spending extra hours on your assignments, rising the ranks. The only thing that could make this even better was the coveted study room 3C. It was the stuff of legends. 

The room sat upon the third floor of the Benjamin Franklin Library overlooking a gorgeous landscape with large base to ceiling windows always pristine and streak-free. The large mahogany table contains two enormous padded chairs, the fabric soft and lacking the usual itch associated with communal areas. Only one student was allowed to book the study carol each semester, and GPA was a factor. It was your time. 

You stand shivering in anticipation outside the library doors for them to open. Mrs. Henry, a thin alabaster woman with wiry golden frames perched on the edge of her hooked nose, unlocks the door. You rush inside the gates. Sprinting to the front desk and eagerly waiting for her to sit herself down in front of the computer and give you an unamused look. “Can I help you?” she drones in a dull tone. 

“Yes, I am here to reserve study room 3C,” you smile at her, and she clicks a few keys on her keyboard, sighing loudly before turning back to you, “that room has already been reserved for the semester.” 

Your smile drops, and you feel your lungs collapse, “But...but it’s the first day of the semester, how could someone already have claimed it?!” you don’t mean to shout, but you’re pissed. She puts a finger to her lips and hisses at you, and you grimace. 

“Priority to that room is always given to veterans first, this semester we have a former Delta Force service member studying here on G.I Bill, he got first dibs, and it would appear he has taken it,” she closes out of the computer and sneers at you. “Maybe he will be willing to share. It says that he will be using it today at 1:00 pm. Until then, I suggest you find someone else to annoy with your frivolity.” 

“Fine then, I will be back.” You snap back at her and storm out of the library, running right into a guy coming into the library knocking his hat off his head. He apologizes, and you give a half reply back, bending down to pick up his hat and hand it back to him. When you look up, you freeze, it’s an older guy than your used to seeing around campus from the way his curly locks have begun to fade to grey, but his brown eyes are bright and full of life. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” you stutter out slack-jawed as you both straighten up and you see the way his dark tan arms bulge in his t-shirt. 

“That’s okay; you seemed pretty upset. I don’t mean to pry but, are you ok?” His voice is like honey, and you watch the way his lips form the words, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “You still with me?” the playful tone has you snapping your head up and meeting his amused gaze. 

“I...I...Uhm, I’m sorry, what did you say?” you are so embarrassed, but he doesn’t mention it. 

“I asked, are you okay? You seemed pretty upset.” 

“Oh,” you had almost completely forgotten your encounter with the monster librarian, and it all comes swirling back, “no, to be honest.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

“No, this is something I have to handle on my own. But, I will say running into you has made the whole experience somewhat more pleasant.” He smiles at you then, and you’re temporarily blinded by the white teeth and the way he almost seems to beam.

“Well then, I guess I’ve done my good deed for the day; my name’s Santiago,” he reaches out a hand, and when you connect, you feel a jolt of electricity spark up your arm. He must feel it, too, because he grasps your hand a little tighter before letting go. You tell him your name, and he repeats it back, your almost melting at the way your name rolls off his tongue. “I hope this isn’t too forward of me but, would you maybe wanna get a coffee? The coffee bar just opened, and I would like to keep talking to you.” 

You grin and tuck your backpack over your shoulder, nodding. He places his hand over the small of your back, and you feel that same tingle as he leads you inside. It’s the typical college coffee shop filled with large overstuffed chairs, a chess set over in the corner, and little tables for grabbing a quick bite. You both go to the counter, and you try to protest as he reaches for his wallet to pay, but he won’t have any of it. He orders himself an Americano, and you stick to a vanilla latte before sliding onto the worn leather loveseat in the corner. 

His denim-clad leg gently brushing against yours sends a tremble over you. He watches you, smiling over the rim of the paper cup, and you smile back. You don’t know how long you both sit there talking about everything. You learn all about his life in the army; his friends turned brothers, his goddaughter, his best friend, and his decision to return to school to study art.

“My buddies never knew, but it’s always been a passion of mine. I own my own security business, and it pays the bills, but I wanted to do something I loved. Probably sounds stupid right?” 

“No,” you grasp his hand, holding tight, “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.” He smiles at you and continues to hold your hand rubbing circles onto the back. His phone chimes, and he lets out a soft curse. 

“Shit, I promised Frankie I would watch his daughter. I forgot,” he looks up into your eyes, “I would like to see you again. Do you think I could get your number?” You hold a hand out, grinning, and he places his phone in your hands. You type out your name and put a coffee emoji next to it, and hand it back. 

“Text me, okay?” he looks at you once before shaking his head and surging forward, placing a kiss on your cheek before nodding. He grabs his bag and rushes towards the door. You bite your lip to suppress the groan at the way his ass hugs in those jeans. He stops about halfway to the door, turning to catch you looking, and winks. 

“Are you checking me out?” he teases, and you nod widely, causing him to laugh and quickly leave. A few minutes later, you get a text from an unknown number with only a peach emoji, causing you to burst out laughing. You check the time and grin. It’s nearing one, and you can go check out the thief who stole your coveted spot. You put the cups in the bin and straighten up the pillows before making your way to the third floor. 

The sunlight streams through the clean glass and casts an eternal light into the hallway. No one is there yet, so you take the seat across from the room and wait. And wait. And wait. But no one ever comes, and you feel your frustration returning. You’re just about to go downstairs and give the librarian a piece of your mind when Santiago texts you asking you out for dinner. You grin, replying with a yes, and temporarily letting go of your plight. 

That’s how it continues for the next month. Between dates with Santiago, texting him, your course work, and stalking out the continuously empty study room. It’s been a busy month. Your phone chimes from your bag, and you smile, making your way up to the third floor for the last time. You’d decided if someone wasn’t using it today, you would be making a formal complaint with the school about them wasting the space on someone that’s never there. 

Santi: I miss you. I’m almost done studying. Are you still coming over tonight? ;) 

Things had been going very well with Santi, and at this point, you spent more time at his apartment than your own. The sex was mind-blowing, his cooking sublime, and he made you laugh like no one ever had. It might have been a short amount of time, but you were sure you were falling in love with him. 

You: I miss you too. However, I did just see you this morning. I will be there tonight. 

Santi: I can’t wait. ;) 

You grin and tuck your phone away. Turning onto the third floor and pausing as a shadow moves inside the room. Yes! You had finally caught the bastard. But you feel the world slow as you look inside the glass and see your boyfriend smiling into his phone and turning it over, returning to his book. You reach out a trembling hand and knock on the glass. 

He looks up, confused for a minute before his beaming smile is back, and he’s getting up to open the door. “Baby? What are you doing here?” 

“You...it’s been you this whole time,” his smile droops as he looks confused, “you stole my study room!” He quiets you and pulls you into the room, shutting the door. 

“What’s going on?” 

“What’s going on?! This was supposed to be my study room this semester! On that day we met, I was angry because someone had reserved it; I’d waited four years for this room, and they had given it away to someone else. And it’s been you this whole time!” You know your overreacting, but the shock is flowing through your veins like ice. 

“This is the room you’ve been trying to reserve this whole time? Baby, if I’d known, I would have given it up in a heartbeat.” He moves to collect his things, and you put a hand over his cooling down. 

“No, just no stop,” you take a shuddering breath. 

“What if we share it?” you look at him, tears pooling in your eyes, “I don’t use it nearly as much as I should, and when we both need it, we can be together.” You let the tears fall, and he smiles, pulling you into his chest, inhaling his spicy cologne. 

“You would do that for me?” you murmur through the tears. He mumbles something against your neck, and you pull away with a questioning gaze. “What?” 

He looks nervous now and holds you close, looking into your eyes, “I said, I love you. I would do anything for you, baby.” 

You lean up and kiss him gently, letting the tears soak your cheeks, before resting your forehead on his own. “I...I love you too.” He smiles down at you. 

“Then I think we're both ready for the next big step in our relationship.” you hold in your breath as he reaches for a key on the table and holds it between you. “Will you...will you share this study room with me?” 

You burst out with a watery chuckle, and he laughs, smiling. You take the key from his outstretched hand. “I think I’m ready for that.” He holds onto the other end and pulls you in for a kiss. The study room quickly becoming good for more than just studying. 

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @heythere-mel​ @justanotherblonde23​ @artsymaddie​ @a-seeker-of-imagination​ @aellynera​ @lucifer-​ @houseofthirst​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @josepedropascal​ @letoartreiides​ @itspdameronthings​

[prettywordsyouleft]

MonX Hospital | Wonho

Pairing: Lee Hoseok x reader

Genre: paramedic – hospital au / co-workers to lovers

Warnings: naturally given the au of an EMT/paramedic there are more than one reference to accidents, a death and medical terms. Also there is a small fight, kind of a one-night stand but not and I wrote Y/N as on the shorter side, sorry if this offends taller readers.

Word count: 3525

Index: Shownu | Wonho | Minhyuk | Kihyun | Hyungwon | Jooheon | Changkyun

“Hey short stuff!” Hoseok greeted fondly and you rolled your eyes, looking over your shoulder briefly before turning back to cabinets you were stocking.

“You know, if you keep using that term, all the others are never going to stop teasing me for being the shortest here on the force.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it! Great things come in small packages.”

Your gaze fell directly to his loins and smirked. “Do they just?”

“Y/N!” Hoseok warned with a hearty chuckle, helping you with your final gear check in the back of the ambulance.

Truth be told, he liked that he got a rise out of you most days. Hoseok had been in the paramedic industry for four years now and out of all his co-workers he had been paired up with, you were definitely the most compatible. You made the long hours worth it, with the endless banter and the equally deep and thoughtful moments too. Working in such a high-stress, life or death environment was never easy to navigate but you had become a well-oiled machine together. Some of his greatest accomplishments had been at your side.

“Ready to go?” you questioned and Hoseok nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat of the vehicle and moving out of the parking lot. Every day was different on the job. Sometimes he spent more time in the office than behind the wheel, not being on the active dispatch team. Today, however, you were on the road, waiting to be called towards jobs that needed their assistance.

You wound down the window and placed your arm on the doorframe. “It’s too nice of a day to be cooped up in here.”

“You say that every day it’s sunny.”

“The sun will be gone soon and replaced with a busy Friday night, I bet you.”

“How much?”

“You’re willing to give me your money so freely?” you teased and Hoseok shrugged. “Twenty bucks that we only deal with drunk people.”

“Alright, the same if we have at least one sober patient.”

It wasn’t the most ideal thing to be waging on what type of work you would have for the night, but it kept it interesting.

And it made you delighted knowing he had to pay up at the end of the shift. “Oooh, we’ve been around so many intoxicated people tonight I think we’re starting to smell like a brewery!”

“You’re not funny,” Hoseok replied as he pulled out his wallet and handed you the money. You grinned and waved it around, doing a little dance alongside it. “What’s fair is fair.”

“You really do like giving your money away,” you stated, giving him a wink before going into the female changing rooms.

Hoseok waited for you to return out of uniform and jangled his keys. “Want a lift home?”

“You just like driving me around, don’t you?”

“I’m used to it, it’s not often you’re behind the wheel because-”

“Finish that sentence, I dare you,” you implored and Hoseok shrugged playfully, leaping away from your frustrated swipe in his direction. Chasing him out to his car, you just missed your chance to catch him when he slipped inside the driver’s side. Sighing and stalking around the vehicle, you slumped into your seat.

“Buckle up for safety!” he reminded as he turned the car on and you shot him an exasperated look. “Hey, everyone of any height needs to keep safe in a moving vehicle.”

“One day I’m going to get you so good and you’re going to regret every quip you’ve said to me.”

You managed to have him whining two days later before your shift, winning an arm wrestle against him twice. “It’s impossible!”

“Why, because your muscles are huge and mine aren’t? It’s called having a good strategy, you should look it up.”

Ducking his head as the other teammates in the break room laughed at his second defeat, Hoseok dived on the dispatch radio that went off on the table. “Let’s go, Y/N. I’ll show you just how good I am at my job instead.”

After attending a three-car pile up, thankfully all with minor injuries and only transferring one patient to the hospital for follow-up treatment, Hoseok glanced at you instead of pulling out of the ambulance bay.

You gave him a quizzical look. “What?”

“You did really well on that elderly woman’s treatment.”

“What are you talking about?” you muttered, picking up the tablet from its stand to log in more details of the event and close the report. “I just did my job, like you.”

“It seemed as if you got that leg injury stabilised before I was finished dressing the second car’s passenger though.”

“Did I?” You stopped tapping on the device’s keyboard and thought for a moment. “I guess I was efficient.”

“You’re a good partner to have in an emergency, Y/N.”

“What’s with all the praises, still upset about me winning earlier and trying to win me over now?”

“No,” he replied genuinely, and then frowned, trying to search for a reason for his compliment. When he started speaking, he hadn’t felt he needed one. But now, as he continued to look for an answer, he felt hot under his collar. Why were you affecting him today?

You looked at him and then smiled gently. “Thank you. I’ve learned from the best.”

“Me?”

“Chief Jung,” you corrected with a laugh and Hoseok groaned, leaping on another dispatched call and answering that they would take it.

The unease Hoseok was feeling towards you was fleeting and within a week it was back to the same constant bickering and comfortable nature you shared. The rapport you had together only strengthened after being faced with a fatal incident as well. It was never easy to be carrying someone in the back on a gurney headed for the mortuary, and the sombre silence in the cab only amplified this after driving back to the base. Hoseok gripped at the steering wheel at a set of lights, knowing somewhere tonight, a family would be grieving over the person they couldn’t get to fast enough to save.

“It’s the worst feeling,” you murmured as he began to drive off. Hoseok glanced at you briefly, your eyes stuck on the road ahead. “Even if it’s part of the job and not my first time, I don’t like it.”

“I don’t think we’re meant to like it.”

“I know it’s selfish, but I never want to be on the other side of the situation. I’ve had to treat friends before and I know it’s my job to remain calm and collected in a stressful environment like that was. However, say it was you; I don’t think I would be able to.”

Hoseok reached over to pat your hand lightly. “Hey, don’t go thinking like that.”

“It could happen.”

“It could,” he agreed softly, images procuring in his mind with coming up on a scene and finding you within it. He shuddered and blinked it away rapidly. “But I know you’ll do your best for me. And likewise, I’d give my all to save you.”

“Ah, we’re so emotional,” you stated shakily, clapping your hands together. “Does everyone crack like this after losing someone?”

“I don’t know, but you’re not alone in this tonight.”

You grew silent again until you climbed out of the cab and grabbed your things. Turning to look at Hoseok, you smiled sadly. “Want to go get a drink?”

“I was going to suggest the same thing.”

Once showered, changed and now seated in a bar with a drink in hand, you seemed a bit more alert. Hoseok smiled as he pushed the bowl of hot chips he had purchased towards you. You eyed the move cautiously. “What?”

“You need more colour in your cheeks.”

“I’m not feeling faint,” you replied sternly, though took a chip and blew on it lightly before chewing it.

“I know, but eating is a vital step in recovery for us.”

“I’d rather drink.”

“It won’t go away with the alcohol,” he reminded and you nodded distractedly. He could tell you were definitely more subdued than usual tonight. Looking around the bar, he pointed across the room. “Want to play a round of pool?”

“You only suggested that since I suck at it.”

“There’s always room for improvement,” he offered and you picked up the bowl of chips and your drink, standing up and gesturing to a free pool table.

It wasn’t until your second game where you had loosened up enough, laughing loudly at sinking the wrong ball than the one you were originally aiming for.

“At least you got one in!”

“I’m so ridiculously useless at this game!” you replied with another laugh, picking up your drink and taking a gulp.

Hoseok sunk the final three balls and you clapped at his triumph. He picked up his jacket and nudged you playfully. “Let’s call it a night, huh?”

“Good idea before you get drunk and start singing out of tune like you did last time,” you quipped and Hoseok reached out for you as you scooted out of his way. Accidentally, he knocked the man at the neighbouring table in the process.

And then, you turned around and let out a string of explicit words. Hoseok was conflicted. On one hand, his heart was thumping erratically at your instant defence for him, but with the way they acted towards him, he wasn’t exactly able to put in his best bid to protect you with the shock still keeping him to his spot.

“Sorry mate, I didn’t-”

A sickening punch came right for him in response and Hoseok was disorientated. He wasn’t expecting it at all and wobbled as he regained his balance. You came into his view immediately, examining his cheek.

He was in a daze, wondering if it was all a dream as he watched you twist the man’s arm who had just punched him now behind his back and made him drop to his knees. Details seemed to remain hazy even when you were helping him into the back of a cab and giving over your address. It wasn’t until you made him sit down on the edge of your couch inside your home and placed a bag of ice over his cheek that he seemed to snap out of his reverie.

“Did you just do all that?” he wondered out loud and you grinned at him.

“What, save your ass from doing something stupid?”

“I think you were a little too reckless compared, don’t you?”

“There was no need to punch you, and he had to apologise for it.”

Hoseok mirrored your grin as you rearranged the bag you were holding against his cheek. And then it faded, sliding forward to kiss your lips.

It had to be the alcohol, he concluded as he passionately continued to kiss you. There would be no other explanation for the hunger that you were showering him in otherwise. You had never expressed a desire for him like this. Although he had confused moments, you were impartial to dating and even frowned upon it in the workplace. So the events of the night and the alcohol consumed could be the only explanation for this.

Not that he needed one right now. He was all too immersed in running his hands along your curves, gasping when you hastily undid the buttons of his shirt. He enjoyed your instant appreciation of his exposed torso, the licking of your bottom lip urging him forward to capture them again, to continue making you his.

And then the fever cast over you caused you to press into his injury, a sudden hiss leaving him and ruining the mood. He panicked. “No, I’m fine!”

“More than fine,” you breathed, tenderly running your hand over his chest. “But you’re injured, let’s stop here.”

“Really?” he asked with disappointment as you puckered up your swollen lips and nodded sadly. You patted him on the chest before getting up, although Hoseok reached for your hand to halt your departure. “Where are you going?”

“To get you some blankets to sleep with, unless you want to uh… share my bed?”

He nodded then, following you down the hallway to your room.

The alcohol couldn’t hide either of your awkwardness now that the heated moment was left back in the living room. You looked at the space and then cringed. “We can’t, you know.”

“I know. Let’s just sleep,” he assured and you nodded, climbing into the bed first before Hoseok followed you in. Tense for a moment, you then rolled towards him, Hoseok slipping his arm after your neck.

Exhaustion washed over you both, pulling you into your dreams before you could question it any further.

When he woke in the morning, you were already up and making breakfast. Hoseok leaned against the doorframe and watched you move around the small kitchen, smiling to himself. He realised he could get used to this type of relationship with you. Those flustered moments and the unease he had felt thus far made more sense now that he had kissed you.

He was certain you could become better partners to each other on and off the clock.

His growing romantic notions were clipped short by your response over breakfast, however.

You smiled at him politely as you spread jam on your toast. “Your face looks a mess.”

“You did a good job of making me feel better.”

“It was a slip-up, it won’t happen again. Alcohol does strange things to people,” you replied and Hoseok’s expression faltered. You continued to eat your breakfast as if the heated embrace you had experienced wasn’t that special. Were you really that unaffected by it? Hoseok was sure you had felt what he had too.

Maybe you were only acting on impulse from the alcohol after all.

So he swallowed back the remnants of his feelings and chuckled. “Right, we had too much to drink.”

“Don’t go getting punched in any more bars,” you added on with a smirk.

And that was that. He had been lucid when it all happened, and he knew you weren’t even tipsy. Yet you both chalked it up as a drunken experience, working together as if you hadn’t had your hands all over his torso as his tongue wasn’t battling with yours all those weeks ago.

He had to admit, he was rather relieved when his planned time off rolled around. For two weeks, he wouldn’t have to endure through the unexpected moments where he’d catch himself thinking back to that night. Little things, such as you tying your hair back, were enough to give him a seconds’ flash of memory from that night.

Yet, you were unaffected, impartial even.

Or so he thought.

It was ironic how life worked in mysterious ways and if this was how he was going to get your attention, he wasn’t so sure he’d be willing to go through with it more than once. The impact of the other car hitting his was deafening, the screech of the wheels across the asphalt causing Hoseok to clamp his eyes shut momentarily.

He had attended far too many accidents but this was his first being involved in one.

When the noise all came to a halt, he opened his eyes again, assessing himself for injury. He had a few cuts on his arm from the glass shards on impact but nothing was substantially painful. Opening the door to his side of the car that thankfully hadn’t been the one to receive the impact, he went over to the driver in the other car, checking them for injuries as he called for emergency services.

Hoseok didn’t even notice it was you called onto the scene at first, too busy applying pressure to the thigh injury sustained on the other driver. However, he knew it was you who called his name out desperately, ignoring the other paramedic who was calling for you to calm down.

You dropped to your knees beside him, shaking visibly as you reached out for his face, looking him over as tears fell from your eyes. Hoseok smiled softly. “I’m okay, Y/N. We need to help Mr Laing here. He’s got three deep lacerations to his thigh and a suspected concussion.”

You merely stared back at him, still holding onto his face. “I told you not to do this to me.”

“Y/N,” he called, shaking you firmly. “Snap out of it, you need to help this man first.”

“I’ll do it,” Curtis announced and pushed you aside, stepping in to stabilise the patient. You seemed to snap out of your initial shock and assisted Curtis with getting the patient into the back of the ambulance. And then you came back to where Hoseok was now standing and took his arm with a tremble. “Come on, you’re getting checked out too.”

“I’m fine,” he told you but you ignored the response, guiding him into the extra seat in the ambulance. You seemed to have regained enough control over yourself to administer the correct care to the patient on the short trip to the hospital, and once you had handed him over to the awaiting medical team at the Emergency Department, you turned back to Hoseok, your knees starting to give way.

Lurching forward, he grabbed you before you fell. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“No, I’m in shock,” you told him simply, staring up at him intently. “How dare you get hurt and be there when I arrive on the scene.”

“I didn’t quite expect the guy to hit me in the intersection when he did.”

You shook your head and thumped him on the chest. “What are you doing getting involved in accidents anyway?!”

Hoseok shot Curtis a helpless expression, who gestured for you to stay with him as he closed the back door to the ambulance. Sighing, Hoseok walked slowly inside to the bed a nurse called him to and sat you down beside him. You didn’t let go of his injured arm, staring at the cuts over his forearm forlornly.

“Y/N,” he murmured and you hummed in response, tearing up. “Why are you being like this?”

“Am I meant to be fine about you getting injured?!”

“No, it’s just…” He paused to take in a breath. “I’m okay, it’s just a bit of soreness settling in from the impact and some cuts. I’m not dying yet you’re acting like I’m critical right now.”

“You mean too much to me to end up here like this,” you confessed shakily, blinking as a tear slid down your cheek. “You’re meant to help those who get hurt, not be the one hurt.”

“I know. You really are in shock, huh?”

“I like you too much for you to be hurt,” you continued and Hoseok nodded and then stopped, widening his gaze upon your face.

“Wait, like me too much?”

“Of course, I do!”

“As your partner?”

“As a man,” you corrected, wincing a little when you brushed your fingers too close to one of his wounds. “I know you didn’t think much of that night but I did.”

“Woah, hang on a minute!” Blinking rapidly, Hoseok then grabbed your chin with his uninjured arm to pull your focus up to his eyes. “You were the one who brushed it off for being intoxicated.”

“I didn’t want to put you in a bind by my feelings,” you mumbled and Hoseok laughed. You gaped at him. “Why are you laughing?!”

“Because we’re idiots! I’ve liked you a whole lot too, I just thought it was one-sided.”

“Definitely not.”

“So it really scared you to find me there, then.”

“If you ever get injured without me being there again,” you started, heaving in a deep breath as you shook your head with contempt. “Actually, you better not ever get hurt in front of me again.”

“You’re really protective, you know? You saved me in the bar and now you’re asserting yourself again for my safety. It’s really adorable.”

“I would hardly call this situation adorable, Hoseok.”

He grinned despite your lamenting statement, leaning over to peck your lips. You froze and Hoseok kissed you again before pulling you in closer to his side. He sucked in a breath when it hurt a little to do and you snapped out of it enough to look at him with worry.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course I am, I have paramedic Y/N at my side to help me.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“I might need extra treatment after we’re done here getting this sorted out,” he admitted and you tilted your head to the side in confusion. Hoseok smirked. “With how much you like me, I might end up becoming lovesick.”

“God, you’re hopeless,” you told him despite a smile tugging at your lips. Nestling into his side, you buried your head into his neck and pressed your lips into him.

“Maybe you’ll need treatment too. But that’s okay, we’re medically trained professionals. I’ll save you and you can save me, deal?”

Looking up at him with another smile, you let out a breathy laugh. “Deal.”

_________________

Next: Minhyuk

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

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[cozy-neko]

The Cherry On Top • Character Introductions • 01 | And so it begins • 02

With each cup of coffee Y/N placed in the cupholder, a low grumble accompanied the action. Each thunk of coffee that slid into each holder was a little more aggressive and heavy-handed than the task need be, but the air of irritation that emitted from the girl was undeniably strong, and the unfortunate barista that was tasked to make this foul-mood customer’s drinks handed her the last of her order before quickly slinking away.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Y/N continued to grumble under her breath the entire frigid three blocks back to the campus of where her office was located.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” A scowl was evident on the girl’s face the entire elevator ride up the tall skyscraper until it dinged and stopped at the 70th floor. It wasn’t until the doors slid open that Y/N sucked in a shaky breath and plastered a Crest-worthy, Splenda-sweet smile on her face as she exited the lift and entered the bustling office.

“Coffee’s here!” Y/N sang out and placed the two cup holders down on top of the front office’s counter tabletop.

“Y/N’s back!”

A scurry of workers crowded around the 21-year-old girl as she animatedly read off orders off the top of her head and handed them out, one-by-one to its rightful owner.

“You’re the best, Y/N-chan!” A senpai from the tech editorial department ruffled her head, earning a small whimper of protest as she tried to sooth her hair. It wasn’t like she spent twenty-minutes this morning trying to tame her unruly mane for nothing.

“Isn’t Y/N the best? She’s always so good at remembering who gets what.” Another senpai from the lifestyle editorial department chimed in and took a sip from her latte.

“Oh no, no! I’m just doing my job.” Y/N let out a forced chuckle, but it went unnoticed as her coworkers slowly disappeared back to their corner of the office to get back to work.

"Alright, you can drop the act, you fake."

The instant Y/N heard a snort coming from behind, the fake smile that was plastered to her face immediately dropped as she whipped around to face a chestnut-haired male.

"I hate it here," Y/N groaned and leaned her upper body onto the countertop. She let out a huff of air and blew a stray piece of hair away from her eyes. "I can't wait to graduate from coffee intern to staff writer."

"You're meeting with the Chief later today, right?" Oikawa Tooru removed his hands from the pockets of his slacks and eyed the remaining drink leftover.

"Mmm, yeah." Y/N let out a distracted sigh as her thumbs flew across the keyboard of her smartphone for a quick text. With the click of a button, she locked her phone and shoved it into her pants pocket and gave her full attention to the older male. "Chief told me that she had good news for me, and judging by all the overtime work and random projects I picked up over the past few months --"

"You mean bitch work?" Oikawa interrupted, earning a glare from the girl.

"For your information, my 'bitch work' got published last week! And that's besides the point. All that matters is that Chief has noticed that I'm a responsible worker who is willing to go above and beyond my day-to-day tasks and now I'm definitely getting the promotion that's been long due!"

There was a smug grin on Y/N's face while Oikawa rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you are a hard worker, Y/N-chan, but that doesn't mean you should be doing other people's tasks when it should be their job to do them in the first place."

"Can't you just be happy for me?" Y/N whined. "I didn't graduate from UTokyo with over $100k in student debt just to go on coffee runs. And I don't even get to have my own drink!"

Oikawa sighed and placed a hand on top of the shorter girl's head. "I am happy for you. And proud of you. I hope you get the staff writer position you wanted, and when you do get assigned to my department, I'll make sure to run you dead with ten articles simultaneously." 

There was an evil, teasing glint in Oikawa's eyes which Y/N responded to by sticking out her tongue.

A ding! interrupted the teasing banter and Y/N checked her phone. She let out a quick squeal and a small hop.

"Gotta go! Ayame-san from tech has an article she wants me to write!"

Y/N waved goodbye and scurried away.

"Hey! I asked for a dirty Chai, not a mocha! What the fuck, Y/N?" Oikawa yelled after the retreating girl.

"Serves you right for making me do your coffee run too, Oinkawa!" Y/N's bubbly laughter echoed through the hallway as she skipped towards the tech editorial department.

Oikawa sighed and tugged at the front pieces of his hair. It was already nearing the end of the day, but he was still at least half an hour away from completing his remaining task for the day. He was currently in the middle of copy-editing an article one of his staff writers submitted earlier today when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Oikawa removed his glasses and pulled out his phone, rubbing his tired eyes while unlocking his phone. It was a text from Y/N.

She must've finally talked to Chief, Oikawa thought. He swiped his thumb to unlock his phone and read the text.

Oikawa grimaced at Y/N’s text. It was obvious the meeting did not go the way Y/N had wanted it to. Sighing, Oikawa stood up and packed his things. Looks like the article was going to have to be pushed back a week; there was a more important meeting he had to attend to first.

Y/N glared at her phone and bounced her leg, a nervous tick that Oikawa absolutely hated whenever she did. Maybe if he was here right now, he would've had the opportunity to scold her. Except his train was running five minutes late. Y/N groaned as she watched another minute go by.

Where's Tooru?

How much longer was he going to make her sit in agony at their favorite bakery and tea shop? 

Right when Y/N was about to hit send on her phone, the shop door jingled, and in waltzed Oikawa.

"Alright, alright, I'm here. What happened?" Oikawa was slightly breathless, having sped-walked from the station and down the block to meet up with Y/N. He rolled up his button-down sleeves and removed his work badge from around his neck.

"So I got the promotion," Y/N began to which Oikawa cut her off.

"Okay, congrats, but that's hardly an existential crisis."

"No! Let me finish!" Y/N stomped her foot once, irritation beginning to seep in. Oikawa rolled his eyes, completely immune to Y/N's temper flare ups. Instead of retorting, he opted to take a sip of her fruit tea. "I got the promotion, but it wasn't the promotion I wanted."

"Did you get placed in lifestyle with Iwa-chan? I heard that department's kind of a mess right now. Iwa-chan told me their lifestyle editor's too busy hooking up with Hanamaki's layout intern to even run the department --"

"Tooru, for kami's sake, I'm begging you to shut up." Y/N groaned and covered her face with her hands. "I'm TK Mag's new gossip blogger. Chief wants me to freaking exploit influencers under the alias of 'Cherry' for the new Cherry on Top blog."

“The new what now?”

end notes: 

→ the timestamps at the top of each photo are irrelevant. the timestamps that you want to pay attention to (or not. it really doesn’t matter) are the ones within the text chats.

→ if you see the word shanchou in oikawa’s and y/n’s texts, i accidentally misspelled the word shachou which means “president of the company.” i was debating whether i wanted to use the japanese spelling or just keep it as Chief. i changed my mind multiple times and decided to just go with the english version but got too lazy to correct the photo. 🤡

→ props to authors who only explicitly write smaus. creating each social post is so time consuming and slightly frustrating that i almost threw my phone across the room.

→ don’t come at me for my nonexistent and try-hard humor. 😔✋this is why i only write angst.

→ no kenma and akaashi this chapter, but they will be introduced in the next!

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[cutegirlmayra]

Hi I’m a big fan of your SonAmy fanfics and I was wondering if you would make a fluff Sonic X fanfic of Sonic trying to confess his feelings for Amy or he feels bad for telling her that she looks cute back when they were on the cruise ship (The episode Sonic was trying to get off). It would mean a lot if you did it because my birthday is on Monday and it would be an amazing gift, but I’ll understand if you can’t do it because of personal issues or if you’re writing other prompts.

Only for precious, birthday Anons~<3 <3 <3

AND NEVER AGAIN! (smashes pencil to the keyboard) once more, prompts are on lockdown, please wait your turn and don’t submit anymore~<3

I miss me some Sonic X lol 

Prompt:

Sonic X - Episode Cruise Blues - English/Japanese mentions of the script have been slightly combined.

“Ugh... why did I say all of that?” Sonic sat upon the top of the ship’s antenna, “I know I’m desperate, but stooping so far as to to risk Amy’s wrath?” he had his legs and hands under him, gripping the small post that was, what he hoped, was the highest point on the ship.

-Flashback-

Growing anxious, Sonic had already concocted the first step of his plan without a hitch, seeing Amy looking forlorn on the other side of the ship, his lips curled to a deadly smirk, and he casually made his way over to her.

“Nice day, huh?” He kept his head down before raising it up and giving her a relaxed, half-opened eye look.

“Oh? It’s you.” Amy pushed herself off the wall she was leaning on and smiled with her hands behind her back. “So? Did you finally realize what you need to do? Honestly, for a hero, your awfully childish sometimes. This is a retreat, Sonic, not a wild ‘do or die’ ride- ah!”

Sonic immediately went into play, “I have realized something... Something I need to do.” Sonic placed his hand with a swift amount of force to lock Amy into place, a prey all to willing. (in japan, this is called a Kabe-Don.)

His hand flexed a little against the press, but firmly kept it and her against the wall, looming over her with a look of attraction.

“H-hey, what’s the big i-!” she was cut-off immediately then by Sonic’s outrageous confession.

“I gotta see the woman I’m gonna marry in action one more time, I need to. I can’t stand not being able to! It’s too hard to bear... Amy...”

“Am I... dreaming while awake?” Amy blinked her eyes, mesmerized by Sonic’s bold exterior. “Do you really mean that... Sonic?”

“What are you saying, Amy?” Laying the charm on thick, Sonic leaned even closer, realizing he didn’t need to do anything more and already sucking her into the fantasy. “And well, sure I mean it, Amy. I’ve always been noticing you. You’re just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen when you swing that little hammer of yours around the way you do so splendidly. My heart beats a million times a minute!” What he meant was, he was absolutely terrified of how much strength she can put into something that looks so innocent and tiny. But alas, the rouse must continue, “Hahhh... but in this mere boat, I can’t see your gallant appearance...” Shaking his head to play on the role, he continued to look heartbroken and slightly shaken up, as though suffering from not being able to see it. “I know... you could never really care for someone like me. I guess that’s just the way it has to be... still...”

Amy was feeding and hanging off of every little thing he said, and in his mind, he couldn’t help but think this was like fishing froggy in, but sped-up to x20. “Perhaps I could go on!” Playing the lovestruck himbo, he turned dramatically, “If I could see--once more--that gallant, speed-filled Amy swinging her hammer... one last time.” he defeatedly covered his face with his hand, trying to stay in-character while he snickered within himself. ‘Is she really into this mumbo-jumbo?’ But truth be told... he wasn’t exactly lying through his teeth... just twisting... truths?

“You want it,” Amy summoned her hammer, getting energized, “You got it! Watch me, Sonic!” She immediately went on a frenzy which is exactly what he wanted, and he smirked from in front of her.

“Ah! I’m too taken aback by the sheer cuteness of your noble pursuit! I couldn’t bear to see it just once!” he acted as though his heart was breaking and he was about to faint, turning around to hold out a hand to her, “Please, I know I’m not right for you, Amy...”

“I won’t stop! I’ve got plenty of juice left in me, I’ll swing this hammer all over the ship for you, Sonic! That’ll prove to you we can be together! Hyah! Hoo-fph! Rahh!” She continued to pace around as Sonic sped off, quickly alerting Chris and his grandfather. “Amy’s gone berserk! Mad from the endless ocean sucking away all her sanity! Quick, she needs help!” Sonic hollered to the two of them, pointing back to where he had left Amy to swing her hammer.

Then she just had to walk in... And everything was going so well up to that point...

-End of Flashback-

After that, Amy turned on him in a flash of a second, and her speed and ‘gallantness’ wasn’t going to hold back now...

She had chased him up this steel radio tower and he wasn’t going to come back down... no matter how hard she persists...

“Sonic!”

He groaned, peeking out from over the side of the antenna like a child, curling his fingers up and then placing them on the edge as his nose finally flopped into view as well, just the upper-half of his head showing through as he tried to play the ‘sorry’ card but she wasn’t having it with his puppy-hedgehog-eyes.

“Are you gonna stay up there all day?” she goated, “Don’t you wanna see how ‘splendid’ my hammer really is with all the ‘gallant’ and ‘wonderful’ things I can do with it?”

He gulped.

“It’s pretty ‘amazing’, Sonic. But you gotta see it up real close. You think you can just stay up there forever?”

He had never seen her so confidently hostile. He truly thought his life might be ending soon if he didn’t try and reach or--at least--appeal to her better nature.

“There’s love in there for me, and I’ve jabbed it pretty good.” Sonic muttered to himself, “I knew there was risk, but I was gonna treat her to something after we were off this blasted ship..!” he looked away with an animated sweat-drop, realizing there was only way out of this.

Not only was he now confined to an even ‘tinier’ amount of space, but now he couldn’t even run along the ship with Amy posted for the kill right below.

“Well, I got into this mess,” He sighed, accepting that he’d have to sugar her up, and be more genuine about his apology... otherwise, that ‘wonderful’ hammer will be the last thing he sees!

“Oh, to die young.” He joked, groaning, “And from a broken heart, no less.” he sucked in some air to give him strength and tried to plead out to her. But really... he knew he had broken her heart. “Sorry, Amy, but no thanks.” He then noticed her smile of having toyed with him turn to a deep glare and frown.

He winced, “I think I’ll just stay up here.” He pulled back, “Soak in some rays, but if you stop using the hammer, I’ll apologize!” he felt his balance dwindling as he saw her jump up to the platform, and gripped the beam for dear-life.

“That’s it!” she leaped, readying the hammer. “Then come down off that pole THIS INSTANT and show me how you’re going to apologize or I’ll-!”

The rest turned into a blur after that.

Sonic was holding strong, willed as anything to not coming down, he struggled to keep his balance as Cream and the others had already begged on his behalf for her to let him apologize and explain himself, but she wouldn’t yield either.

“If he wants to prove how sincere he is about being forgiven, then he’ll do so and come down to take his beating like a real man and hero of this show!” Amy was unrelenting, but over time, she began to exhaust, giving pants here and there and swinging with much less force now.

‘Just a... little... longer...’ Sonic squinted his eyes shut, clinging before the traction on his feet gave way and he was dangling off the side.

Amy swung and missed, twirling herself before falling on her butt and looking exhausted, “Haa... haa... Oh, I give up. Huh?” she lifted her head back, looking tired and saddened, before seeing Sonic about to get knocked down. “Ah! Could it be!? Now you’re mine!!!” She immediately zipped back up, “Take this, and this, and the last of my furry!!!” she hammer the pole so much that it started to dent, and finally shook and tilted slightly that Sonic’s gloves slid right off.

He was sweating from the heat of the sun too, and falling through the smoke of the ship, began to tumble back through the air. “Woooaahhhh!!”

“Ah! Sonic!” Amy, realizing what she had done, raced forward and grabbed the back of where his neck should be and landed.

“Offph! T-thanks, Amy. I appreciate the quick save-Ah!” he was yanked slightly up but unable to get his bearing back on the ship’s wooden floor, but instead, Amy pulled him half-laying to yell in his ear, looking like a scolding wife.

“Get your head out of the clouds and start spouting out your apologies! And let me make something really clear, Sonic The Hedgehog, I’m not feeling merciful today! No ‘love interest on this program going to forgive the charming hero’s foolish blunder’ this time!” (In the Japanese script, the characters are well aware they are in an anime, and in this episode, Amy mentions Sonic’s behavior is bad for the audience’s perception of their ‘hero’ multiple times.)

Sonic flailed a moment, caught in her powerful hold, but looked back at her with eyes shining, “You saved me, doesn’t that make you the hero of the episode?”

“Quit the flattery! That’s what got you into this mess in the first place!” she let him go with a swift whack on the head, pumping him down and then using her hammer to roll him over, sitting on him. “Hmph! You’re not leaving till I get a thousand and one apologies that meet my standards!” she huffed, “You can start talking NOW.”

Sonic felt the squishing weight but sighed and decided not to use such tactics anymore.

“Alright,... you got me.” He admitted, and then looked off and away from her, “Truth is... I really don’t understand why you’d believe me.”

She was about to hammer him again, growling and wheeling her swing up as fire raged around her but Sonic quickly struggled and held his hands up, “That’s not what I meant! I meant about you being with someone like me! I don’t understand how you would!”

She lowered the hammer, her eyes still a raged confusion. “Huh..?” she blinked, “Go on...” she narrowed her eyes and pouted her lips, turning away a bit but keeping her eyes locked on him, making sure to listen carefully.

“...I regret that I didn’t completely lie to you... then this apology would be a lot easier.” He let out a bit of air with a ‘phoo’ and continued while deflating under her weight. “Truth is, I do think you’re pretty gallant. I do notice you, I just don’t really know how to respond. Yeah, I did a bad thing, and I regret it a lot, Amy. So... could you please let me go in peace?” he turned his head slightly with another animated teardrop, but Amy’s hammer greeted his face and he shivered in fright, turning back to the ground. “Guess not.”

She removed the hammer then, and watching it slowly retreat, he continued his apology, “You are... kinda cute...” He pouted, his eyes half-opened and blinking as though comically trying to not say it.

“What was that?” Amy tilted her head, now having her hammer over her shoulder.

“Kinda... don’t regret the way you looked up to me, though. Your eyes so believing in me... your willingness to do whatever it takes to help me out... That’s pretty admirable of you, Amy. A true hero.” he grinned as he continued to compliment, which... she wasn’t minded.

“What did I say about flattery? Hmph.” she turned away, blushing a bit. “How can I ever trust your words, Sonic, if you run around doing stunts like this?”

That actually did make him break out of apologizing and look earnestly towards her with doubt and sorrow.

“...You can always trust me, Amy... when I’m not stuck and needing some assistance...” He definitely wasn’t helping his cause.

She sighed, “You’re so good at being charming... sometimes I wonder if you even stop to think about it or if you just wing it all.” she looked back at him and he could tell she was softening a bit.

“I’ll make up for it, Amy. I promise.” he nodded, showing with his eyes and smile that he would make things right.

“Hmm... you can start now.” she teased, making sure he was flattened against the ship’s deck. “By staying completely under my beck and call this entire cruise! Hahaha!” she laughed like a villain as he sweated in a loss of hope.

‘Traded one misery for another.’ he thought to himself, not wanting to become Amy’s waiter or butler.

But that’s when Eggman was readying to attack, and Sonic was all but completely unembarrassed, just excited to have something thrilling finally happen.

His mind was turned to mush by boredom and the heat upon hiding from Amy, but his spirit would never be completely fried out!

Later, once on land, Sonic did promise he would never fool Amy the same way ever again... and Amy made him ‘kiss up to her hammer’ as a final touch of her ‘sincere’ forgiveness of the whole dilemma.

(He kinda confessed? Ish? lol, he’s only 15 and a ridiculous boy, come on XD)