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#everything its so slept on as a b side
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set me on fire, i'll keep you warm
alpha!joel miller x omega!f!reader
You get stuck in a cabin during a snowstorm for longer than you anticipated.
an: this is my first a/b/o fic so it is probably weird and awkward, but i'm trying to push myself out of my comfort zone and write different styles of relationships!
tw: a/b/o/ dynamics, afab reader, fem reader, alpha joel, omega reader, marijuana use, joel is mean, angst, comfort, SMUT, this is an a/b/o fic so everything associated with that is included (knotting, mating cycles, heat, claiming bites, scenting), p in v sex, vaginal fingering, creampies, unprotected sex, masturbation, dubcon
word count: 12.5k
masterlist
MDNI!
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The night outside the cabin was quiet, the snow drifting down in the dim light of the backlit clouds. It was too late to be sitting outside like this, letting the cool air wash over you in an attempt to rid yourself of your bad dreams. Dark circles were stamped under your eyes as you self medicated, the deep skunky scent of weed wafting from your lips and into the evening. 
Nightmares were a fairly common side effect of the apocalypse, so you didn’t bother with waking up Joel as you snuck past the couch he slept on. You’d be waking Joel up every night if you did that.
“What are you doing?” The groggy voice behind you makes you jump. Apparently tonight you had.
Joel’s voice startled you, nearly making you drop the joint as you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your face already felt warm from your embarrassment at getting caught, the incriminating joint still between your fingers. The smoke curled around the two of you, drifting into the open door of the cabin. 
“Couldn’t sleep,” you mumbled, looking up at the alpha as he stood in the doorway. You had the collar of his thick, canvas hunting jacket turned up high to cover your scent glands, his smell strong enough to cover yours. It wouldn’t be smart to broadcast to anyone nearby that you were an unbonded omega. 
Joel’s eyes darkened at the sight of you, illuminated by the crisp night. You knew the jacket swamped over you, the sleeves pushed up to expose your hands and the excess tucked beneath you as you sat. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, studying your exhausted expression with a touch of concern.
“Mhm, I can see that,” he drawled, his eyes flicking down to the joint in your hand. “You smokin' again?”
Your gaze subconsciously darted down to where his biceps bulged under his flannel. You swallowed thickly, looking back up at his shadowed eyes. “Just so I can fall asleep,” you mumbled, feeling like a teenager who’d just been caught by their dad. You took another greedy puff off the joint before he could say anything else, putting it out against the porch railing before tucking it into a rusty Altoids tin from which it came and into your pocket. 
You exhaled a thick cloud of smoke as you stood, crossing the porch in just your socks and ducking past Joel inside the house. “Made sure your jacket covered my scent and everything, didn’t want any passers by to smell me,” you murmured as you squeezed by him. You smelled like weed and like Joel, the sweet scent that lingered on your skin only detectable if you got close.
The sound of Joel inhaling as you walked past him was audible, as if he was testing your method and making sure he couldn’t pick up your scent. You glanced up at him to see his nostrils flare before he schooled his face into a neutral expression.
He followed you inside, closing and locking the door behind you. "You know that stuff ain't good for you," he said gruffly, his eyes following your every movement.
You were shrugging his jacket off, hanging it back up on the hook next to yours. Your sweater was threadbare, on its last leg before you’d have to look for a new one in an abandoned house or store. “I know, Joel,” you murmured softly, brushing a hand over your face. You crossed your arms over your chest, tucking your freezing hands into your armpits.
Your eyes were bloodshot and glassy, the buzz of being stoned making your movements more languid. “Only do it sometimes, just when I can’t sleep,” you said, trying to assure the alpha across from you.
Joel's expression softened at your words, but still, a hint of concern etched his features. The set of his jaw told you he knew what these sleepless nights did to you; the bags under your eyes and the fatigue in your movements didn't escape his notice. 
"Sometimes is too much," he rumbled, closing the distance between you. He reached out, his calloused fingers gently brushing an errant snowflake off your face, his touch tender despite the roughness of his hands. You closed your eyes at the contact, his skin rough against yours before he pulled away. 
"If you can't sleep, you should come to me. You know that, right?"
“Joel, s’okay, it doesn’t happen very often,” you murmured, stubborn as always. 
You knew Joel could help you sleep in an instant, all it would take is you crawling on the couch with him and pressing your nose against his scent gland. It was one of the easiest parts of being an omega with an alpha around. But, you were stubborn to a fault.
The corners of his mouth tightened, and he let out a low growl. "I don't care if it's once in a blue moon or every goddamn night," he snapped. "You need to start relying on me more. I don’t know why you gotta deny your nature and act like you’re so goddamn tough. Stop being so damn independent all the damn time."
You huffed, not letting Joel sway you. His frustration was obvious, you could smell it mixing with the musk of his scent. “You wouldn’t say that to me if I was an alpha or a beta,” you bite back, brow furrowing. It was rare that Joel got mad at you like this–especially over something as stupid as being hard-headed. You’d been that way the whole time he knew you: an omega fighting her designation.
The day you presented as an omega you cried yourself sick. It was like your life had ended, every opportunity seemingly disappearing in an already difficult world after the outbreak. You were hellbent on proving yourself to be worth more.
Joel's jaw tightened as his eyes flashed darkly at your words. He stepped closer, closing the distance between you until he was towering over you. "You don't get it, do you?" he asked softly, the sneer apparent in his voice. "It's different for you. You're an omega."
Your throat tightened, frustration cutting through the relaxed haze of your high. “If you don’t trust me to take care of myself, Joel, why did you take me on as your patrol partner?” you hissed, staring up into his gaze defiantly. You were starting to get emotional, tears stinging at the backs of your eyes as you tried to suppress them. Joel stood over a head taller than you, glaring down his aquiline nose at you as you argued.
His scent was strong in the small hallway, his chest puffing up as he cornered you near the wall. His arm shot out, palm pressing to the dilapidated wood paneling near your head.
"I brought you because I trust you to shoot straight," he retorted, his voice rough. "Not because I think you can handle yourself on your own!"
His words made you flinch, the hurt clear on your face. Your mind was reeling, struggling to process what he said as you balked at him. It dawned on you how stupid it was to think an alpha would trust you. To them, you’d never be more than just an omega even if you pushed yourself to the brink. 
You didn’t give him an answer, slipping under his arm and heading to the small bedroom you occupied at the back of the house. Everything in you was screaming to hide, to make yourself small. Distress scent was already pouring off of you in waves, leaving the air bitter as you tried to hold the tears threatening to spill until you got behind the bedroom door.
“Goodnight, Joel,” you hissed, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it.
You didn’t know what time it was when you woke up, just that there was light streaming in through the aged blinds covering the window. The fire in your room must have gone out when you slept, the air was frigid as you sat up in bed. Peeking out the frosted glass revealed there was more snow on the ground than when you fell asleep—meaning another day of holing up in the cabin until it passed.
You had half the mind to hide in your room all day, not wanting to face Joel after last night. You cried yourself to sleep, betrayal weighing heavy on your heart. You still felt the sting of it, part of you wondering if he even respected you as a teammate or just thought you were a pathetic, bumbling omega he got stuck with. 
If it wasn’t for your stomach growling, you probably would have stayed in hiding.
The door to the room creaked when you opened it, deciding to venture out to get water and something to settle your upset stomach. The light was dim out in the rest of the cabin, the dying embers of the fire casting an orange glow across everything. Joel was a lump on the couch, but you couldn’t tell if he was awake.
Joel hardly slept, guilt and worry gnawing at his gut. He had tossed and turned on the couch all night, listening to the sound of your sobs through the door until you finally fell asleep. If he could go back and take it all back, he would in a heartbeat.
It wasn't the creaking of the floorboards that woke Joel, but the faint scent of a distressed omega. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open to see you quietly entering the kitchen. He watched you in silence, guilt-stricken features as he studied your careful movements. As he slowly rose from the couch, moving towards the kitchen in a silent prowl, his eyes never left you.
“You're not gonna eat just jerky all day, are you?" he asked gruffly, leaning against the kitchen door frame. You were gnawing on a piece of it, staring out the bay window over the sink in the long-abandoned kitchen.
In your haze, Joel managed to surprise you. You yelped at the sound of his deep voice, spinning around and falling back against the kitchen counter. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you said, finding your footing again. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned to look out the front window at the snowy landscape surrounding the cabin. “Just about gave me a heart attack.”
A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of Joel's lips as he watched you jump, a low, raspy chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Sorry 'bout that," he drawled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His eyes followed your gaze out to the window, the snow falling silently outside.
You didn’t know what to say to him, your chapped lips pursed as the two of you stared at one another. He looked worse for wear, his dark hair was sticking up in every direction, his under eyes so dark they almost looked bruised.
He cleared his throat, the silence between you two deafening. "Can we talk?" he asked. He cringed at his own question, knowing that of course he wanted to talk, he knew he had to talk. He just didn't know how to start. He reached out towards you, but stopped himself halfway, his hand dropping limply to his side 
You sniffled, running a hand over your face as you took a deep breath. “What if I said no?” you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest. The smell of your distress was all too clear, the acrid scent of it covering your normal honeyed-earth smell. 
"Please."
The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. The pleading tone in his voice surprised him, and he knew it surprised you too. He was an alpha, a strong and powerful one at that, he didn't beg.
But as he looked at you, at your exhausted frame and red-rimmed eyes, he didn't care. He'd beg for your forgiveness a thousand times if he had to. Crawl to you on his knees. It pained him to see you like this. Especially when it was his fault.
The sound of Joel’s deep, twangy, Texas-accented voice begging made one of your eyebrows arch. He never begged, he never had to before. Not alphas like him. You sighed, hazel eyes darting to look out the window over the kitchen sink at the snow. “I’m listening,” you mumbled.
Joel let out a breath through his nose, his heart rate returning to normal. At least you were giving him the chance to explain.
The only sound in the room while Joel put his words together was the floor creaking beneath you as you turned to face him again, watching his coffee-colored eyes nervously flit up to yours. It was times like this that made it hard to believe Joel was the alpha and you were the omega, when he’d snap and then come running back to you with his tail between his legs like a kicked puppy.
You used your arms to boost yourself onto the counter, feet dangling off as you settled on the cool tile. You were nearly Joel’s height this way, leveling the playing field a bit by making him look straight at you. You pulled a knee up to your chest, the other leg still hanging down as you mashed your cheek against your kneecap.
He took a step closer, standing in front of your bent leg now as he looked at you. His rugged features softened as he spoke, his voice gruff. "Look...what I said last night," he began, "It was really shitty, and I didn’t mean it, and I'm sorry."
He reached out, calloused fingers gently wrapping around your ankle, giving it a squeeze. "I just... I worry about you, that's all." His thumb pressed the wonky stick and poke tattoo of the omega symbol on the inside of your ankle. You’d given it to yourself when you were seventeen, some rebellious act of reclaiming your identity. Now it was just a faded memory of growing up in a quarantine zone.
Joel always had a hard time with words, expressing himself more through actions than any alpha you’d ever seen. You rarely shied away from his touches, coming to expect them over the past year the two of you had been assigned together as patrol partners. 
You sighed, blowing air out through your nose as your head tilted. Joel stood close to you, your hanging calf pressed along his thigh as you met his gaze. “I know you worry, Joel,” you said softly, looking up at him through your lashes. “But you gotta treat me like a teammate, not like you’re my babysitter.”
He looked embarrassed, his eyes darting to the ground and then back up to you. "I never meant to make you feel like you were just some object, or incompetent. I just…” he sighs, struggling to find the right words. “You make me so damn frustrated sometimes."
You huffed, shaking your head. “You don’t get to try to justify it, Joel,” you said, an exasperated tone in your voice. Of course he’d qualify it, find it wasn’t entirely his fault. “You reduced me to an incompetent partner, useless. Just an object for breeding,” you whispered, your glare hard. “Felt like you had no respect for me unless I was bending over for you and letting you fuck me.”
Joel bristled at the words, the sting of them hurting almost as much as the pain on your face. He clenched his hands into fists, his whole body tensing with the effort to keep the need to comfort you under control.
He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on you. "I do respect you, dammit," he growled. "You don't think I don't admire how strong and independent you are? If I didn't respect you and trust you to have my back, I would have found a new partner a long time ago."
“You said all I was good for was shooting straight, Joel,” you said, your voice cracking as you spoke. You worried your lower lip with your teeth, fingers tapping nervously against your bent leg. It felt like you were going against your DNA, standing up to Joel like this.
Joel ran a hand over his face, the weight of his actions sinking in. He knew you were right. He knew he had crossed a line.
"You're right, it was unfair," he said, his eyes darting to the floor. "I was just frustrated, I was worried about you. This job, it's dangerous, and you've got such a damn stubborn, independent streak. You never ask for help, and I always worry I'm gonna wake up one day and find you not there, and it’ll be my fault for not being fast enough."
You huff, your expression softening slightly at Joel’s confession. You knew he was dealing with his own demons, his own reasons to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He was still standing between your legs, fingers looped around your ankle. “Joel,” you murmured, “I’m not running away or anything, I just was smoking a joint to help myself sleep.”
Joel looked up at you when you spoke, his gaze lifting from the faded tattoo. He hated how defeated he felt, and he hated how hurt you looked.
"Damnit, you don't need to do that. Why can't you just come to me when you can't sleep, and I can help you sleep the right way?" he sighed, moving in closer.
His frustration made you even more angry. “Fuck, Joel. Does the sleeping thing really bother you that much?” you huffed, moving further back from him on the counter and turning to look out the window. You felt queasy, chewing over the idea of telling him a bit of the truth. You decided to go for it. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve never scented an alpha before.”
The wind against the side of the cabin was the only thing filling the silence. Most omegas got scenting partners out of the way when they were teenagers, exploring their desires and learning what they liked in a mate. But you were in your late twenties and never tried any of it because you were too busy fighting your designation. You didn’t want any part of being an omega, even if that meant not experiencing things.
You didn’t even know what you were doing—didn’t even know where to start.
Joel's eyes widened when you confessed that you had never scented an alpha before. The revelation took him aback, making his breath hitch in his chest. His mind went through a whirlwind of thought, the realization that he would be your first alpha to scent you hitting him like a truck. He can hardly consider the fact that it was contingent on if you let him. 
His omega had never scented an alpha before. The possessive instincts within him roared to life, clawing at the edges of his mind. No, you’re not his. He needed to stop thinking that.
"You never-" he began, his voice rough and strained. "You never scented anyone?"
Your cheeks erupted with warmth, embarrassment rocking through you. You ended up covering your face with your palms, not wanting Joel to look at you. “I’ve scented other omegas… betas.” It felt too submissive, too docile. You didn’t want to be like other omegas you saw in the quarantine zone and Jackson—stuck bending to their alphas’ every whim, you wanted to be free.
“So don’t get so offended that I haven’t scented you, it’s not personal.”
Joel's jaw dropped at your confession, his mind spinning. He had known you were stubborn and independent, but this? He had never heard of an omega not scenting anyone by the time they were out of their teenage years.
The way you covered your face, the smell of your embarrassment and shyness filling the air, made something primal stir in his chest. The thought of no other alpha ever having the opportunity to even scent you was both thrilling and infuriating.
“I just wanted someone to treat me like their equal,” you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest. It was hard for you to let the silence exist between you, always filling it. You had to move from the weight of Joel’s surprised gaze, making you turn to the window and stare out of it. The snow was so heavy outside the cabin that you could hardly see the trees. “I would do it, I just don’t want to become someone’s property. Which I know scenting is really different and far from mating and being claimed but it feels like the first step.”
Joel's heart ached as you spoke. He knew you wanted equality and respect, something he always thought you deserved. But to know that you had never allowed yourself to feel comforts like being scented because of fear of being treated like property was something he hadn't realized.
He leaned towards you, trying to see your eyes. "You know I wouldn't treat you like that, right? I would never make you feel less than an equal just because you're an omega," he said, his voice low and gentle.
“You tried to last night,” you mumbled, still facing away from Joel. You leaned your forehead against the window, the glass cool against your skin. That was what made it so difficult, you couldn’t forget the tone Joel spoke to you with—it was the same tone that alphas used to force omegas to submit. It rattled you.
Joel clenched his jaw at your words, guilt bubbling up in his chest again. He knew you were right, that he had tried to reduce you to just your designation, that he had spoken to you in the way that made most omegas crumble.
He moved closer, close enough that he could smell the sour scent of your distress again. Everything at him was screaming to make it better, to fix it.
"You’re right,” he admitted. “I was a dick, and I hurt you. I won’t do it again. I swear on Ellie’s life."
You felt warmth radiating off him and onto your back. “You really scared me, Joel,” you whispered, your voice wavering as you spoke. That was the truth of it, he scared you last night. “I know you can overpower me in a second if you wanted to—I really have to trust you not to. My life is in your hands.”
As you spoke, Joel’s heart ached. He knew you were right. You were strong and fierce, but he was an alpha, and he could overpower you in a heartbeat if he wanted to. He gently squeezed your ankle, tugging on it. He could feel the heat radiating off you, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to press himself against you.
“I know, I know I did. I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, the nickname coming out before he could stop himself.
You sniffled, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. You didn’t know what to do, anxiety binding your chest in knots. Joel stood close to you, nearly touching your back as his hand flattened against the porcelain countertop. “Alphas don’t have to think about that kind of stuff, ya know? You don’t have to constantly worry about it. You could be alone for your whole life and it wouldn’t be a problem, it’s not the same for omegas.” 
Your forehead was still pressed against the window pane, your body curling up to make you small. “Don’t gotta worry about an alpha forcing a claim on you, or killing you if you refuse. I’ve got to think about it all the time, even in Jackson. And then you wonder why I hate being an omega.”
Pain and sadness wrenched in Joel's chest as you spoke, his heart breaking at the vulnerability in your voice. He knew you were right—alphas didn't have the same worries and fears that you did.
He closed the distance between you, his chest pressing against your back as he leaned over the counter. He could feel the tremors in your body, and he desperately wanted to fix it, to make it better, to take your pain away.
"I know, baby," he murmured again, hooking his chin on your shoulder. The wiry strands of his beard curled against the collar of your sweater. "I know."
There was something in his solemn tone that made you break, a pathetic whimper rocking out of you before you could stifle it. He sounded so small, you never heard him sound like that before. It cracked a hole in your defenses just enough for the whole structure to come crumbling down.
You let out a sob, turning against Joel until you could bury your face in his chest. You cried into his flannel, fingers twisting in the well-worn material. He was still your person, your best friend in the whole world. You always turned to him.
Joel's heart ached as you buried your face into his chest. He could feel your tears soaking into his shirt, and his arms wrapped around you, pulling you as close as physically possible.
He held you tightly, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He gently guided your head to rest against his chest, his chin resting on top of your head.
"Shhh, baby, it's okay," he whispered, his voice rough and thick with emotion. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Wanted to take it all back the second I said it, I was such an asshole."
You didn’t know how long you cried for, clinging to Joel like a life preserver in a storm. He held you close, his calloused fingers tangling in your hair and his chin resting on the crown of your head. You inhaled his scent from him, the deep, musky smell of an alpha, mixed with a spicy scent that was entirely Joel’s. 
Joel held you through your tears, his fingers running through your hair in a soothing motion. He inhaled deeply, his nose buried in your hair, the scent of your distress beginning to fade and be replaced by a more familiar honeyed earth scent.
It took you a while to calm down, making you hiccup as your tears eventually ran dry. His shirt was soaked with them, but he didn't care. He just wanted you to feel better, he wanted to fix whatever he had broken.
"You all cried out, darlin'?” he murmured, his voice soft and gentle.
You nodded against Joel, sniffling still. “I know you’re sorry, Joel,” you mumbled, your voice soft and thick from crying. You still held onto him, face pressed into his sternum.
Joel's heart clenched at your mumbled words, his hold on you tightening slightly. "I'll say it as many times as you want to hear it, baby," he said, his own voice rough with emotion. He rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back. Your body was pressed against him, warm and soft.
Joel’s voice sounded thick, his Texan drawl heavier. You just held on, trying to catch your breath. The wind sounded louder outside, buffeting against the roof and filling the silence between you two.
Your distress scent faded, only leaving your cloyingly sweet smell behind. Joel took another breath, inhaling. It was intoxicating, the way you smelled. Almost honeyed earth after a heavy rain, it was addictive. He always had a hard time focusing when he was close to you like this.
He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing on you and you only. He continued to hold you, his fingers still running through your hair. "Feeling better, darlin'?"
You nodded, pulling away slightly. You wiped your face off, your skin damp from your crying. “Yeah, I’m better,” you whispered. You looked up at Joel for a moment, your eyes bloodshot and watery. 
Joel's eyes roamed over your face, taking in your puffy eyes and running nose and swollen lips. You looked beautiful even when you had been crying, and it took all of his self-restraint not to pull you back against him again.
He nodded, his thumb coming up to lightly trace your wet cheeks, wiping away a few remaining tears. "I’m glad, darlin'," he murmured, his eyes not leaving yours.
Your lips were pursed thoughtfully, considering. “So you’ll start trusting me to handle myself?” you asked, trying to negotiate. “And I’ll rely on my instincts more,” you offered, still whispering. “Alright?”
Joel's heart was pounding in his chest as he held your ankle, his thumb rubbing over the faded tattoo there. He knew you were right, that he often let his protectiveness get the best of him when it came to you. He wanted to keep you safe at all costs, but sometimes in his efforts, he ended up stifling you.
He exhaled deeply, feeling the guilt and the weight of his actions settle heavily on his shoulders. He knew he would agree to anything you asked. "I will, but you have no idea how hard it is," he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.
You nodded, tears still burning in your eyes. You needed him to agree, or this wouldn’t work. “Joel, should we change patrol partners?” you asked, tilting your head. You didn’t want to, but it also wasn’t safe for him to constantly put himself in harm’s way for you. “Someone easier for you to be around might be better. And I need someone who trusts me.”
Joel's stomach lurched at your question, the thought of being paired with someone other than you making his blood run cold. "No," he growled, his hand tightening around your ankle reflexively. "No. We're not changing partners."
He stepped even closer to you, his eyes filled with determination. "I don't want anyone else. I don't want you paired with anyone else. It's you and me," he insisted, his voice firm.
Joel crowded in close, pulling you toward the edge of the counter. Your knee pressed against his waist, his belt warm through the hole in the knee of your sweatpants. You clicked your tongue softly, your small hand smoothing along the back of his larger one. “S’okay, I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, making sure he looked you in the eye. “You and me. Just gotta start trusting me.”
Joel's shoulders sagged with relief, the tension draining from his body as he heard your reassurance. The feel of your hand against his, the way your knee rested against his hip, it grounded him, reminded him of what was important.
“I trust ya.” He leaned in even closer, resting his forehead against yours. "You and me," he repeated, his voice a low rumble. "Always."
He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, honeyed scent of you. It filled his senses, calming his nerves.
You basked in the closeness for a moment, letting your eyes slip shut as you inhaled his deep, heady musk of him. It felt resolved for now. “Alright big guy, let’s make some food,” you said, lightly patting Joel’s stomach with a hand before you twisted around him off the counter in the kitchen.
Being outside of Jackson made you miss electricity. Thankfully you knew there was a chance that there would be a storm during the scouting run, packing the truck with extra food and firewood that had now come in handy. 
But, neither of you realized the storm would last for so long. It was three days that you two were stuck in the cabin, watching as the snow piled higher and higher. You weren’t waiting for it to melt, just to stop coming down so Joel could see your way out without crashing into a tree or a boulder.
You cracked two cans of Chef Boyardee that Joel found in one of the houses you picked through, setting them in the fireplace to warm as you sat cross-legged on the rug in front of it.
Joel was moving around behind you, the springs of the couch squealing as he sat on them. His gaze made the hair on the back of your neck prickle. But, he stayed silent—typical behavior for him. 
You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall, surprised to see that it was already nearing three in the afternoon. You must have slept in later than you expected, most of the day already having gone by. Honestly, it was better that way, you and Joel were starting to get a bit of cabin fever.
Silence permeated the room, brightly patterned oven mitts you found in a drawer covering your hands as you scarfed down the food. “So you used to buy this stuff at like, the store?” you asked, finally breaking the quiet as you turned to look at Joel.
You were little when the outbreak started, you didn’t remember much of what life was like before. It was normal for you to ask him things. Joel felt like a bridge to a different time.
It always caught him off guard when you asked about life before the outbreak—he couldn’t help but forget how young you were compared to him. He nodded as he chewed, glancing up to see you backlit by the fire. It made you look like you had a gold light surrounding you.
“Yeah, we used to buy everything at grocery stores,” he said, clearing his throat a bit as he talked. “There was more food than you could imagine, really, there was too much. A lot of it got thrown away.”
You listened with rapt attention, chewing the ravioli thoroughly. You really couldn’t imagine such abundance—even in Jackson everything was grown and made to satisfy the needs of a few seasons. Nothing ever went to waste, though. 
“That sounds like a dream,” you said softly, finishing your food. You stretched out on your back on the rug, the fire warming your side as you got comfortable. 
“These days it seems like one,” he mumbled, the sound of his spoon scraping the can filling the room. He couldn’t look at you directly, it felt like he was staring at the sun. It was hard not to go to you. His palms itched with the need to feel your fire-warmed skin beneath them. 
Joel got up sharply, running his fingers through his hair as he looked out the window. “M’gonna go hunting before it gets too dark out,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he walked away from you.
You hummed your acknowledgment, watching Joel pull on his gloves and his jacket and sling his rifle over his shoulder. He smelled the collar of the coat, your scent probably lingered from when you’d borrowed it last night.
“Be careful,” you murmured, watching Joel from where you lay. You wanted to get up, go adjust his jacket and the twisted strap of his rifle. But you stayed where you were.
“Always am,” he said, giving you a once-over before heading out the front door and into the snow. 
You busied yourself with melting snow to fill the big plastic bin Joel had dragged inside from the truck, cleaning the guns and mending some clothes with a needle and thread. Normally you’d go hunting with Joel, but you could tell he needed space for a bit. 
The cold woke him up, made him feel like he finally got his head out of water. Being stuck in that cabin with you—with your smell—was driving him crazy. The two of you spent a lot of time together, but it normally was outside. This was the first time you’d been smashed together in close quarters for more than a day. 
It was making him lose his mind.
He’d rather be shot than admit it, but he spent the first ten minutes of his hunting trip holding the collar of his jacket to his nose and fisting his cock. As soon as he realized he could smell you on the canvas, he’d been hard as a rock. 
Joel never met an omega whose scent got to him as much as yours.
He held the aging fabric in a fist to his face as he stroked up and down his shaft. His eyes were screwed shut, jaw clenched so hard it ached. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine that his spit-slicked hand was yours, the image of you stretched out on the rug stuck in his mind. The fire illuminated the contours of your body, highlighting the swell of your breasts and the indent of your waist.
It wasn’t the first time he fantasized about you. It started with a dream of you crawling into his sleeping bag while you were out on a scouting mission, pressing up close and nuzzling into him like you were his, whispering everything you wanted him to do to you in his ear. 
He woke up from that painfully hard, thankful that he was in the safety of his bedroom in Jackson rather than with you. But it spiraled viciously from there—even if he didn’t start off thinking of you, he would certainly get there eventually. Knotting you, biting you, fucking you. It all lived in his head. 
Joel groaned, biting down on his lower lip as his cum spilled onto the snow. The tree he was leaning against was rough on the back of his head as he slumped a bit, taking deep breaths. It took him a few moments for the ringing in his ears to stop, head finally clearing as he tucked himself back into his pants. 
With the edge taken off he readied himself, wiping the sweat off his forehead before grabbing his rifle off his shoulder. There was always some level of shame he felt after he jerked off to the thought of you, knowing he’d have to face you again and pretend nothing was amiss. 
The wind howled as he walked deeper into the forest, pushing his thoughts aside as he started to look for any semblance of tracks in the snow.
The rabbit Joel killed was a decent enough dinner with the dried soup you brought from Jackson, the meal rich enough to lull you both into silence as you thumbed through old paperback books you found in a closet. 
It was long dark when you told Joel you’d be going to bed, wishing him goodnight as you made your way to the bedroom. You were tired enough to fall asleep with little fuss, curling into the thick quilt and going unconscious almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.
But, of course, you didn’t stay that way. 
Screams filled the space around you. You were unseeing, choking on thick smoke. Opening your mouth to speak only resulted in a scream, the sound ragged and desperate. You could hear gunfire in the distance, but you didn’t know which way to look.
You were alone in this place, that much you could tell. The air was thick and warm—smelled like the omega shelter back in Vegas, you spent two years there. You reached out ahead of you into the darkness, hoping to find a wall or furniture or something. But it was empty, each step further into the black maw that seemed to have no ending. 
The sound of clicking made your hair stand on end. You were all-too familiar with that sound, the labored breathing of an infected following it. You didn’t know which way to move, the clicking was directionless. There were no weapons, no way to run. 
Clicking filled your ears, directly on top of you. Teeth tore into your flesh, ripping into your arm as—
You woke with a jolt, eyes wide in the darkness as you let out a choked gasp. Screaming still haunted the back of your mind as you sat up, trembling hands running over your face as you tried to enter the world of the living.
Your nightmares were relentless, memories of the fall of the Las Vegas QZ still fresh in your mind despite it happening a decade ago. The explosions that brought the walls down, the influx of raiders and infected alike. The smell of smoke and burning flesh and hair made you choke, forcing you out of bed as you fumbled for your Altoid’s tin on the nightstand.
Joel was asleep when you crept through the living room, good ear pressed into the cushion of the couch as you tiptoed past. The night was cold, Joel’s jacket back on your shoulders as you looked off the porch and pinched the joint between shivering fingers.
It stopped snowing, at least. The sky was cloudy, the moon peaking through sections of the clouds and making the snowy landscape glitter like diamonds. You and Joel would be able to leave in the morning.
A gust of wind made you shudder, the joint slipping from your fingers. It was a scramble to catch it, sending you to your knees. The wooden boards creaked as you tried to grab the remainder of your joint as it rolled. Your fingers just barely missed it, clutching the empty air as you watched it fall through a crack in the floorboards and disappear.
“Fuck!” you groaned, sitting back on your heels. You’d be awake the rest of the night, still feeling edgy and paranoid from your nightmare. You dragged your hands over your face, exasperated.
You headed inside, defeated. Joel’s jacket was returned to its hook as you looked at the way the fire lit up the room orange. The shadows flickered along the walls, sending shivers down your spine as you remembered waking up to the same glow in Las Vegas.
Then your gaze landed on Joel, still comfortably sleeping on the couch. One leg hung off, planted against the floor as his other foot was far over the edge—he was far too tall to be sleeping on the sofa.
You paused, chewing your lip as you stared at him. If you swallowed your pride, you’d be able to sleep tonight. 
It was a hard thing, letting go of your fears. You realized if there was ever an alpha you’d bend to, it would be Joel. Something about him made you trust him, even when he was harsh and rude and distant, you still knew him inside out. 
Part of you knew he was yours, even if you wouldn’t admit it. It was the talk of Jackson, Joel panting at the heels of some young omega like a lost puppy—you heard the whispers. 
You decided to give him a chance.
He didn’t stir as you approached, wondering if you should wake him up or just clamber onto him. The couch was already cramped enough with just him on it.
You tentatively reached out to shake his arm, Joel’s dark eyes opening almost as soon as you touched him. He sat up fast, looking ready to fight as his gaze took in every inch of the cabin. You yelped softly, moving back from him in surprise.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, voice thick and raspy from sleep as he started to get up. 
“I can’t sleep,” you admitted sheepishly, wringing your hands together in front of you. You felt silly asking him after everything that had happened between you two, but you promised him you’d follow your instincts more. His muscles tensed, you didn’t mean to cause such a commotion, your heart in your throat. “It’s stupid… I-I can figure it out.”
Joel relaxed, the tension in his shoulders leaving as he processed what you said. Your concern made him smile softly, a hand reaching out to curl around your shoulder. “Want me to help you sleep?” he asked, voice low. He treated you carefully, not wanting to scare you off. 
He was honored you were even willing to ask.
You huffed softly, brows furrowing as you nodded. His grin stretched, heart thumping with excitement as he obliged you. He was relieved you were asking, wanting to be a good alpha for you. Wanting to help you. “We can stay out here or go to the bed, up to you, baby,” he murmured, dark eyes focused on you as you considered. 
“The bed,” you mumbled, turning with little fanfare. Joel followed hot on your heels, warm at your back. You were anxious, breaths short and shallow as you tried to calm down. 
It was no big deal. It was just Joel. Your Joel.
You got in first, curling beneath the bedding as you turned to look up at Joel. He was toeing off his heavy boots and taking off his belt, shining orange and yellow in the dim firelight. He looked formidable from this angle, tall and broad like most alphas were.
“You alright?” Joel asked, noticing the trepidation in your gaze. He sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on the old quilt as he leaned a bit toward you. “I can go back to the couch. Don’t want you to feel pressured—I won’t do nothing you don’t want to do.”
You hummed, nodding. “It’s just sleeping, right?” you whispered softly. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at Joel, laying back on the pillow. 
He nodded. “As easy as closing your eyes,” he assured, his drawl thick. 
You couldn’t imagine the luxury of sleep coming so easy, but you nodded anyway. Joel clambered into bed with you, sliding beneath the covers with a sigh of relief. You were sure it felt better on his back than the couch, watching him stretch as he settled next to you.
“Just gotta come here,” he said, looking over at you. You looked so sweet in the dim light, eyes wide and lips parted. He wanted to reach out and pull you over himself, instead he dropped his hand, fingers tapping the top of the comforter in anticipation.
You acquiesced, scooting over to meld into his side. His arm curled around you, occupying the void between your neck and shoulder. Joel was so warm, it felt like you were cuddling with a space heater as you settled into him. His big hand pressed between your shoulder blades, rolling you toward him and tucking your face into his throat.
It was so easy to get comfortable, melting into him as you took in a deep breath. You always thought he smelled so comforting, warm and a little musky. You only ever caught his scent in passing, never concentrated like this.
Joel felt how you relaxed against him, a smile on his face as one of your arms stretched across his chest and your nose pressed into the hollow of his throat. It took you a few deep breaths to completely let go of your tension, the set of your shoulders sagging against him. “That’s it,” he murmured as he rubbed your back.
It only took a matter of minutes for you to feel your eyelids drooping, your breathing slowing as you meld into him. “M’tired,” you mumbled, sounding groggy. Your words were muffled against his neck, lips ghosting over the delicate skin of his throat. 
Joel chuckled softly, fingers lightly curling at the nape of your neck. “I know, baby,” he said. He glanced at you, dark eyes watching how your eyelids got heavier and heavier with every blink. He was surprised you were so willing to scent him, and how fast it worked.
He shifted slightly, bearded cheek pressing against the top of your head as he let his eyes shut. He felt so calm. The fitful sleep he normally experienced eluded him as you both finally drifted off.
Sleep became a sweltering, restless thing throughout the night. Dreams took on dark silhouettes, feverish shapes and flashes of light that seared and burned through your veins. You were weightless in the murky water surrounding you, fingers reaching for something. Someone to anchor yourself to.
Joel.
All your senses smashed into one, an explosion as life-altering as the Big Bang. You were a writhing mass of feeling that had you leaning into air heavy with tension and desire.
He was in it with you, just out of sight. You were so familiar with his presence, his smell, you always knew the weight of when he was nearby. Then, all at once he was with you in the dark place.
He was everywhere. The press and slide of heated skin where your bodies met and separated. You called for him, voice catching and dying in your throat before you had the chance.
You were burning from the inside, your spine an inferno as you reached for him in the dark. You knew he would fix it, knew he was what you needed. He would get you through the blaze and onto the other side.
He was a weighted shadow around you. Completely surrounding you, pulling you tight and grounding you to the anchor of his body. He kept you from drifting off into the fathoms of the abyss.
“Joel,” you whispered. You heard him respond to you in turn, the sound of your name like honey on his lips. The press of his mouth to your neck was like napalm and jolted you—
— and you woke with a rattling gasp, lurching where you lay in bed next to him. Sweat was beaded under your arms and around your temples, heat radiating from where Joel’s arms held you to his side.
You were panting into the cool air of the cabin, blinking until the unfamiliar shapes found themselves into focus once more. It was daylight, far past sunrise from the way sunlight was filtering through the blinds.
Your skin felt a size too small. Everything was uncomfortable and itchy as you stirred in Joel’s embrace, lifting your head out of his neck to take in deep breaths of clean air. It still carried his scent, permeating the room throughout the night. The area between your legs ached like a wound, your thighs squeezing together to relieve the throbbing. 
Something made him wake, the air shifted and thickened around him as he slowly blinked into the morning air. Part of him almost surged out of bed, ready to defend and protect. But he understood on first inhale.
The smell of you was everywhere. It was all-encompassing and alluring, filling his senses all at once. Saliva was rushing to his mouth, your scent was an intoxicating thing that had his nerves alight. Desire took hold of him, real and rooted in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.
You knew when he woke, you didn’t even have to look at his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you gasped, turning away from him as your hand snaked between your legs to feel the mess of your sex. The predicament you put the two of you into was less than ideal. “I thought we had more time—I didn’t mean to.”
He was relieved. You were still in there, in your own mind enough to talk. His mind was slow to the uptake, blood rushing elsewhere as his thoughts turned over themselves. He was trying to remember from before, trying to figure out what it meant.
A soft heat. A distant memory from a junior high health class sprung into his mind. Not a hard heat brought on by a cycle. A soft one could be brought on by stress or exposure to an alpha, but they are shorter than a hard heat. Temporary. Sometimes a single knotting is enough to pull an omega from a soft heat unlike hard heats that last a week.
Joel cursed. It was too loud in the quiet of the room. His head was swimming from the force of the blood rushing to his cock, painful and aching as you moved away from his side.
“Gotta tell me right now, do you want me to go?” Joel asked, already rolling toward you. He followed the way your arm disappeared beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, your face twisted with both pain and pleasure.
It was a sight he only thought he would see in his wildest fantasies.
You were rigid and panting, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment as you tried to order your thoughts. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of Joel helping you through a heat before. His rough and attentive hands guiding you through it.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice cutting into a whine. “You don’t have to—I just, I can do it on my own if I have to.”
The air between you was aflame before Joel kicked the quilt off and turned toward you. The need to give someone, you, what you needed was burning in him. It was a reminder that even after all this time he was still an alpha, he could still do this for you. 
A wet stamp of his lips on your throat made you keen, tilting your head back against the pillow to give him more space. His hand curled around your jaw and pulled you to him, lips smashing together in a fervent kiss. It all felt like it was building for far longer than the last evening, the urgency as you opened your mouth against his was the culmination of nearly a year of pining.    
The kiss deepened, his body tipping into yours and setting his skin on fire. Joel grabbed you with a wide hand, shifting you fully beneath him as his mouth dropped to your throat. He bit down hard enough to make you jolt, hands grabbing onto his biceps.
You were still mumbling into the air, shaking from holding back. Joel took your jaw in his hand and pressed his forehead to yours, his dark salt-and-pepper curls already damp from sweat. “Stop, baby,” he murmured softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “I know what you need, I’ve got ya.”
It was easy to give in then, nodding as you both moved together quickly. Joel stripped you of your clothes, tossing them into the room as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his flannel. You wanted to feel his skin under your hands, trace the contours of his muscles and the shapes of his scars. He was deliciously broad, all realistic working-man muscles–he had never been the flamboyant type.
He couldn’t help but press his cock into the crease of your hip as his nose traced to the curve of your throat, taking in the sweet scent there. His knot ached with the friction, a groan pulled from his throat as he devoured your mouth.
A big hand gripped at your belly and then your hip, positioning you so he could settle between your bent knees. He blindly found his rightful place between them, wide quads pressing against your own. The breath rushed out of him as he reached down and felt your soaked cunt against his fingertips.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Joel breathed against your jaw. You were in a haze, hardly processing what Joel was saying as you whined, lifting your hips to the press of his hand. 
The air was punched out of your lungs as he dipped his fingers lower to collect the slick pouring from you, smoothing the rough pads of his fingers over your clit in swirling motions. His other hand flattened over your belly, holding you down to the mattress as he strummed his fingers over you as carefully as he would a guitar.
“Ohh,” you gasped, letting your eyes fall shut at the feeling as your hips stuttered in his hand. “Joel.” 
It was all you could manage to say, all you could manage to think. His expression made your heart trip, your hands reaching for him without hesitation. Your fingers were still slick from when you’d touched yourself upon waking, petting them over his beard as your hips rolled against his hand.
Joel caught the smell of you on your fingers, his dark eyes flashing. His lips dropped open as he sought your hand, pulling your index and middle finger into the hot, wet confines of his mouth. You whined, brows drawing together as warmth covered your face and neck. Needy, wet licks of his tongue took the flavor right off your fingers. 
He couldn’t help but jolt his hips forward, pressing the hard line of his cock against the back of your thigh. A deep sound rumbled from his chest as he let your fingers drop from his mouth, rocking you with his hips again.
The hand between your legs dipped lower, two thick fingers pressing into you. An urge he couldn’t articulate spurred him on, a sympathetic moan escaping him as he watched your back break on a whine. His eyes nearly rolled back in his skull as he felt the tight press of you around every curve and bend of his fingers.
You were painfully sensitive, already feeling yourself tightening around his digits as your thighs clamped around his forearm. It felt wonderful, transcendental, but it wasn’t enough, not right now. “Joel,” you gasped, hips tilting fervently against his hand, “I need–”
He nodded before you could even finish your sentence. He knew, of course he knew.
There was an ache of emptiness as he pulled his fingers from you, taking his cock in his hand and smearing your arousal over it. His weight pressed down above you as he hitched your thighs over his, nudging his hips against yours. You keened at the blunt press of the head of his cock through the seam of your sex, the wet sound of your lips parting for him loud in your ears. 
He teased you for a few moments, pressing the tip of his cock against your clit to make you whine sweetly. The grin on his face was diabolical, he knew it was mean to keep you on edge like this right now–but he couldn’t resist.
“Joel, fuck,” you groaned, digging your nails into his arms. He got the message, rocking forward to find purchase against you and filling you with a hard slot of his hips. You were wet enough to take him in one go.
You both stilled against one another, panting and holding on as you adjusted to the new sensation. Joel never thought in a million years that he would be so lucky. To have you pressed into the mattress beneath him was a dream come true, making him let out a strangled noise as he dropped his weight to his forearms to press his nose back against your neck.
Your cunt pulsing wetly around him brought the dying man back to life, pulling him in as your pants grew more desperate. He let instinct take over, pupils expanding like ink dropped in water as he set his teeth against the soft skin of your shoulder.
It wasn’t gentle. You didn’t want it to be. Joel grabbed you hard and fucked you senseless, driving you deeper and deeper into the mattress. The repetition of him filling you over and over was merciless, reducing you to mush beneath him as you forgot everything aside from his name. He nipped at your collarbones and anywhere else he could reach, each sharp feeling of his teeth drawing a ragged sound from you as your head pressed back into the mattress.
Joel was completely running on instinct, focused on filling you. To pin you down and knot you deep where you were begging for it. 
The walls of your weeping cunt were starting to flutter around him, spine arching like a bow pulled too tight. He grabbed your hip with a wide hand, forcing you to take him deeper. You were whining, mumbling pleas Joel couldn’t quite understand as your hands spasmed on his arms. He pressed his lips against your neck, stamping wet kisses up and down your throat, licking at your heated skin.
He rutted his hips hard against yours, making shivers run up your spine as you tried to catch your breath. You felt frantic, euphoria clouding the edges of your vision as he worked you higher and higher. Everything in you became painfully tight, a strangled whine coming from your throat as your legs shook and squeezed around his hips.
The pleasure was overwhelming, white-hot and practically making you pass out as Joel hitched your leg up, pressing into you as he grunted like an animal. Your whole body spasmed, cunt clamping down around him like a vise as you desperately tried to stay conscious. 
Joel’s hips bunched against yours, his teeth setting into the junction of your neck. The tease of a claiming bite, just enough to make you whimper. He jerked back away from your neck at the last moment, lifting his weight off of you as his dark eyes squeezed shut. Pleasure was licking at the base of his spine, muscles of his abdomen knitting together.
He groaned, spilling inside you and grinding your hips together. Too caught up in his instincts, his head whipped to the side to bite the calf that rested on his shoulder, teeth digging into the meat of it. You keened, pleasure and pain mixing as he pressed in close as his knot began to swell inside you.
The soft sheets embraced his body as Joel collapsed, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you shared each other’s breaths. Your pussy was still pulsing around him, making him tremble as he panted into your throat. The ache of his knot inside you was satiating, drinking a cool glass of water after a long summer’s day.
You brought his mouth to yours, the two of you shifting so Joel was on his back and you sprawled over his chest. He was greedy, thick fingers snaking between your bodies to feel where you two were joined. A broken sound came from his mouth as he felt how you were stretched around his knot.
You traded breaths and open-mouthed kisses, breeching whatever semblance of a chance at a professional relationship after this. Joel’s big hand pressed against your spine, pulling your belly to his as he nuzzled at your cheek, the curve of the bridge of his nose mashing into your heated skin. His beard tickled your face, making you scrunch your nose on occasion as you stamped your lips to his.
He softened enough to slip out of you, making you whine as he dragged his fingers through the mess between your legs and pressed it back inside your cunt. 
It was his intention to pull away, to go to the living room and give you some space now that you no longer needed him. But you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your face into his chest. Your knees hooked around his thighs, moulding your bodies together as the sun casted stripes across you.
You fell asleep that way, hopelessly tangled as your heart rates slowed and breaths grew heavy.
You needed him twice more, waking him up at sunset and in the middle of the night as the moon rose high in the sky. Each time was feverish, you woke him desperately by teething at his throat and pressing your bare pussy against the hard muscle of his quad. It was too easy to press his knot inside you both times, the two of you whispering nonsense to one another as you bedded down, Joel sucking lazily at your breasts before you licked and nuzzled the scoop of his throat.
He felt something terrifying as the moonlight illuminated you after taking his knot for a third time, spend and slick leaking from your puffy, abused cunt as you drifted off. The need to keep you wrapped around his heart like a cage, delirium making him want to hide you away in this cabin with him and never go back to Jackson. 
He blearily reminded himself as sleep closed in that you just were in a difficult situation, he was the only alpha you could have turned to. It was nothing personal.
Waking up was a luxurious thing, rest seeped into the marrow of his bones as he stretched in the body-warmed sheets. He was lucky you were feverish enough to keep them both warm through the night, the fire in the hearth long burned out. Sun painted his eyelids orange, a hand scrubbing his salt and pepper beard as he finally opened them.
You were curled at his side, eyes open as you looked out the window. Upon his waking you turned to him, pensive and thoughtful as you took in his expression. You were returned to yourself again, calm without the storm threatening to swallow you whole.
“Thank you,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep as you used his arm as a pillow. The smell of sex and sweat was starting to fade, the evidence only in the marks Joel had sucked onto your throat… and your chest… and your stomach… and your inner thighs. He blushed at how carried away he’d gotten, over a year of hidden-away need manifesting as him greedily taking all you were willing to give yesterday.
“You didn’t have to take care of me,” you whispered, the silence from Joel making you panic. He was just looking at you, his curls sticking up every which way as the back of his skull remained pressed into the pillow. 
“‘Course I did, baby,” he murmured, his Texas drawl even thicker first thing in the morning. He reached out to you, gently squeezing your shoulder beneath the grasp of his fingers. “Wasn’t gonna let you suffer.”
You both stared at one another, neither of you daring to move first as though the dream would fall apart. Joel studied you just as you did him, taking in every twitch of your features as his brown eyes turned molten in the morning sun.
It was impossible to say who moved first. Your hand was on Joel’s jaw as his fingers pressed into your waist, lips smashing together in a fervent clash of teeth and tongues. 
You straddled him this time, giving his aching back a break as you leaned over him and kissed his jaw. For some reason you felt more desperate now than in your soft heat, cupping his cheeks with your hands as you curled your fingers into his beard.
There were no excuses this time, truth revealed in the morning light. No biological need driving either of you together aside from your lust.
Joel’s big palm smacked the curve of your ass, making you squeak against his throat before a giggle poured from you. He grinned, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands as he pressed his lips anywhere they could reach.
“Can I?” you whispered, eyes wide as you pulled back to meet his gaze. You looked vulnerable, as though you thought he would reject your advances despite the fact that his cock was already swelling with arousal. He couldn’t even imagine a world where he could reject you.
“Anything you want, baby,” he breathed, ready to burn the world for you if you asked.
You smiled, relief flooding through you. You didn’t think Joel would push you away, but you weren’t sure. Thank god you guessed right.
You spat in the palm of your hand, lifting yourself up just enough to reach between the two of you and take Joel into your hand. Without the haze of your heat blinding you, you were shocked by the size of him. It was hard to believe you were able to take his knot at all given the swell of him beneath your fingers.
Your eyes widened as you bent your head to look down at your hand. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you murmured, the awe in your voice making his chest puff with pride. You glanced back up at his face, lips parted as you experimentally stroked him along the entirety of his length.
Joel’s nostrils flared as his eyes closed, pride warming your belly as you repeated the motion. The skin of his cock was overheated and velvet-soft, a quiet moan falling from your lips as you watched his expression twist. Precome leaked down to mix with your spit, the head of his cock flushed–part of you was tempted to ignore the aching between your legs to get your mouth on him.
You weren’t that generous, though.
It took a bit of contortion to line Joel up with you before you were pressing down on him, the two of you gasping in unison at the stretch. There was a twinge of pain, but you were too impatient to let him open you up on his fingers. His hands were iron around your hips, the force of his hold almost bruising.
He could see all of you in the morning light, his eyes tracing up as though he was seeing God for the first time. Joel was mesmerized, watching the bounce of your breasts as you rode him, the slight jiggle of the soft flesh of your thighs and lower belly. Your eyes rolled back in a way that made his heart twist, the roll of your hips making him root deep. 
Your hands pressed against his chest, feeling the long-healed scars by knives as you moaned. Joel’s hands smoothed into the creases of your hips, gripping you tight as he brought you down on his cock, hips fucking up into you.
It took all your focus to stay on top of him, thighs trembling as you dug your knees into the soft mattress. Your breath hitched every time he hit the deepest parts of you, eyes rolling back and mouth lolling open. The pleasure was so overwhelming it was almost painful, making you want to sob above him.
Despite your desperate coupling over the past day, this felt entirely different. This was something new and unknown, your bodies moving together as hot flashes of euphoria drip through your veins. 
Joel was in awe, the feeling of your soaked cunt gripping at him was almost too much to handle as the bed creaked beneath his back. He didn’t even realize how loud the springs were last night, too delirious to care. Each rock of his hips made your body pitch up before he shoved you back down in a dizzying loop that had you both groaning. 
Everything in you tightened as he railed into you, nails digging into his chest as the feeling hooked into you and dragged you toward the undertow. You were at the edge of a cliff, balanced dangerously at the edge of it as you whimpered.
“God, can feel you squeezin’ around me,” he breathed, his voice strangled. He railed into you in a frantic rhythm, brows drawn together as he held you so tight you knew you would be sore.
It only took another one, two, three snaps of Joel’s hips against yours before you fell. You barely were able to catch yourself in time, your orgasm spreading through you like a lighting strike as your muscles convulsed and your cunt spasmed around his cock. He cursed, an arm curling around your back and making your spine arch as he held you against him.
Joel couldn’t get enough of you, the wet squeeze of your cunt felt like a heaven he shouldn’t have been allowed in. He was vaguely aware of his mouth running, your name spilling from his lips as he fucked into you, treating you like a toy for his pleasure as he manipulated your hips.
You took everything he gave you, leaning over him to press your mouth against his. You were moaning against one another, begging in whispers. It didn’t take him long to bring you down onto him and keep you there, teeth gritting and breath stuttering as he pumped you full of him. Joel let out a groan through clenched teeth, sounding like a wounded animal as he forced you into stillness for a few moments before letting go.
The rest was easy, you collapsed onto him as Joel kissed and nosed at your hairline. He scented you where he could, feeling possessive in the aftermath. 
You didn’t talk for some time, communicating through touch as you let bliss keep your bodies bound to bed for a little while longer. But the sun was shining in the sky, the truck bed full of supplies for Jackson occupied the back of your mind as you looked down at Joel, soft and sweet.
“Let’s get going?” you asked, sounding more like a demand than a question. You didn’t know what else to do, lifting your chest from his as the air began to cool your sweat. Your legs were shaking like a colt’s against the floorboards, spend dripping down your legs before you wiped it away with your sweatpants. You would change into jeans for the drive home anyways.
Joel watched you with curious eyes, seeing the way you distanced yourself as you dug through your pack for fresh clothes. He stood, groaning a bit with the effort after spending so long in bed. It was only a few strides to get to you, pressing his body along your back.
“I want to do this your way,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his lips against the crown of your head. “I’ll do whatever you want, just wanna be yours.”
You felt giddy, a smirk quirked the edges of your lips that you tamped down, hands still clutching the sweatshirt and jeans like life preservers. “You mean that?” you asked, leaning back against him. “What if I never let you bite me?”
“Then I won’t bite you,” he said, no hesitation in his voice. He squeezed you once, letting you go and allowing the cold air rush against you once more. “Just think about it, you don’t gotta know now.” 
Joel stamped a kiss along your hairline before leaving the bedroom.
Packing up went quickly, the two of you working in tandem to make sure everything was still bound down and tarped in the back of the truck before clambering in. You watched the cabin disappear in the rearview mirror, already feeling nostalgic as it vanished behind snow-covered pines.
It wasn’t a long drive, maybe five hours if Joel went slow. He was going to go slow, milking every moment he got you all to himself before returning to Jackson. It only took you ten minutes into the drive to slide across the bench seat, lifting his arm to curl beneath it.
“So my way, huh?” you asked, pressing your nose against the canvas jacket he wore. 
Joel chuckled, a victorious grin stretching on his face. “Yeah, your way, baby. You’re in charge.” It felt odd to say, a bit unnatural to give himself to you like that. An alpha bowing to an omega.
You grinned, an arm wrapping around his thick torso and pressing close as he followed the snow-covered road. The landscape sparkled like diamonds, the two of you silent as you didn’t want to break whatever that moment was. 
Unsure of what lay ahead, but excited to find out–knowing it just may be something special.
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hachyxd-blog · 5 months
Text
Ray´s B-day fanfic <3
"Today, years ago, my favorite yandere was born from all the visual novels I've had the fortune to see or play. I can separate fiction from reality, but I don't think I'm the only one who would like to be there to hug Ray and give him a little peace. As a small gift, I wanted to make a short fanfic of my coffee addict alongside a little drawing to complement it. I apologize in advance if it's not understood well, English is not my language and I'm using a translator."
@concreteparasite Gracias por crear tal maravilla.
Happy birthday.
Who would have thought it would be possible to keep a secret from the great Binary star. Mc laughed happily in the kitchen as she finished washing the dishes. It had been just over a year since she moved into Ray's home. At first, it wasn't easy; it seemed like the option to leave was given, or rather, it was never up for discussion. After much talking, they managed to make it work together: Mc wouldn't be confined to her new home, but she would always stay in touch with Ray when she went out.
Truth be told, it's not like she could keep a secret from him; after all, he possessed the incredible ability to read minds, but she trusted him not to read hers all the time. Mc really believed it was impossible to turn on her mind... until she discovered it. On her maternal side, she spoke Spanish, and unconsciously she had been thinking in that language, discovering a weakness to Ray's ability. He seemed annoyed that he couldn't fully understand, but there was nothing he could do.
Today, in particular, he seemed very upset. I concentrated as best I could so that the only language I thought in was Spanish and not to ruin the surprise.
"Tell me what you're thinking..." Ray's voice appeared behind me, his hands wrapped around my hips as he rested his chin on my shoulder. The height difference between us was cute.
"I'm not thinking anything important," I said playfully.
"Stop," he said seriously.
"What?"
"You've been thinking in Spanish all day," His voice sounded annoyed, while I tried to contain my laughter.
"Really? I didn't realize."
"It's annoying."
"Well, darling. It's not the end of the world if you don't know everything that's going on in my mind."
Without responding, Ray left me alone in the kitchen and headed to our room, then came out in his superhero suit. Before me was Binary Star in all his glory, the only difference being that he didn't show that fake smile but still looked upset.
Unknowingly, due to my practice, I had been thinking in Spanish again.
Normally, he would give me a kiss goodbye and go to his vigil shift. But today, he flew off the balcony without looking at me. I won't deny that it hurt me. But it meant I was on the right track to keep the surprise.
Ray came back around 5 in the morning. Half-asleep, I felt him walking around the room before lying down on the other side of our bed. It seems he's still upset because he didn't hug me as he always does.
The next morning, I let him sleep, it helped that we slept separately, so I got out of bed easily. After putting on my robe, I went downstairs and asked the neighbor for my package. I had gotten a chocolate cake with coffee to celebrate Ray's birthday. But if I kept it in our house, he would realize I was planning in Spanish. The neighbor agreed to keep the cake at his house along with my gift.
I went back home, made coffee, and took the cake out of its box, and my gift was already on the tray.
In our room, Ray was still asleep. I cleared my throat and started singing "Happy Birthday."
Ray looked for a moment and then covered his face with his pillow. I could see that lovely smile; he was embarrassed.
I left things on the bedside table and threw myself to hug and kiss Ray; I knew I should have let him sleep more, but I couldn't contain myself after all these days preparing the surprise.
In no time, I was caught in his arms.
"Everything... was for this," His voice sounded deeper from just waking up, but he seemed happy.
"Yes, did you forget your own birthday?" I joked, stroking his soft hair, and running my hand over his cheek. "Ignoring them doesn't mean you stop aging, old man."
"No, I just don't usually celebrate it." He ignored my joke and just passed his hand over his face, somewhat frustrated.
"Well, get used to it. This might be the only birthday I manage to keep a surprise. Next year, you'll know what to expect." I exclaimed proudly.
Ray smiled, keeping his eyes closed; maybe it was the fact that he now had someone to be with him for the following birthdays that made him take this even more joyfully.
"If you don't want cake now, we can save it for later." I gave a glance to the table with his cake and gift, along with his essential morning coffee.
"How about the gift?" He pointed to the purple box. "Can I have it now?"
It was at this moment that nerves increased from zero to a hundred. Everything would be decided at this moment.
"Of course," I handed over the gift, watching as he slowly unwrapped it.
Ray's eyes widened as he looked at the contents of the box and then at me, pulling out two handmade dolls of them and a pregnancy test. After a moment of silence, Mc cleared her throat.
"D-don't think I'll give you a gift like this every year." I laughed nervously.
"Since when—" maybe it was shock, but his voice sounded distant, as if he didn't completely believe what was happening.
"I-it's still early, I haven't been to the doctor yet." Ray looked at me as if I had committed a crime. "I-it would have ruined the surprise."
Ray went from surprise to anger to simply accepting the inevitable: the love of his life was forgetful.
"I swear I feel fine. But you're happy, I mean, we talked about this in the past, but maybe you were thinking of another time in the future... I..."
Ray's hands took me by my cheeks, cradling my face, to give me a tender kiss.
"I am, I mean, I'm so happy that I'd like to hold you so tight in my arms and show you how excited I am about this." He gave me a subdued smile.
"Ray, what's wrong?"
"What if I don't do it right, being a good father?"
"Well, no father is prepared for this. We'll learn together..."
I could see Ray's face relax at my touch and my words. His hands surrounded my back, pulling me into a tight hug.
"Happy birthday..."
"Thank you..." His whisper was weak, but I felt genuine gratitude.
"Next year, we won't be alone on your next birthday, Mr. Dad."
We stayed hugged for a while. I didn't know what was going through Ray's mind, but whatever it was, I would be with him.
When I set out to eat the cake, I was interrupted by Ray, who carried me to the shower to get ready to go to the hospital. It was funny how from one moment to the next, our small bathroom became a dangerous area in Ray's eyes: slippery floor, sharp-cornered furniture, and a bathtub where I could drown, among many other dangerous things. He took out his phone and started calling to have our entire home redesigned to make it safe for me and our upcoming baby. And may God have mercy on the people in charge if I ever got hurt, no matter how insignificant it was.
If this was going to be my life from now on, it would be a long nine months.
"Your father has gone crazy," I said as I stroked my still flat belly. "But that's how I love him."
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mademoisellegush · 1 year
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On the Emperor and *that* scene
so i went and looked at some of the branches of that conversation -he basically reacts by reflecting and amplifying whatever energy the player gives him. Whatever you say, he will not contradict you.
You reject him, violently? He'll show you how right you are, how much of a monster he is. You reject him, preferring to "stick to business"? so does he. You agree to see him as a potential partner? Not a one-night stand, you are "bonded and it is time to consummate love with war".
Something to keep in mind, however (pun intended) is that "to best protect yourself from illithid manipulation, pay attention to its actions, not words."
tldr: i think the emperor is a very neat character.
The first branch is the disgusted rejection - the one where the player calls him a freak. his reaction is to show you how right you are. a mind controlled Stelmane, how the partnership was puppeteering. "you are my puppet", he tells you. "You have no other choice, if I must, I will force you."
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he does not force you to do anything, after that. the threat is there, of course, but it's hollow. empty.
should this be taken at face value? can we trust him, even now, that he is telling the truth? it is certain that he mind controlled stelmane, yes. But was he the one who made her ill?
two items put that into question. a) stelmane's portrait, hung up at his desk along all his treasured possessions from before and after he became an illithid (balduran's butter fork, to go with the butter knife. his old sword, a recipe for fiddlehead soup, his dog Rascal's collar. the emperor's outfit, container for brains, chains for his "meals".)
If he's a liar about everything, why does he have a framed picture of Stelmane? He would not have been able to physically go back and set things up in a Knights of the Shield secret hideout while he was stuck inside the Astral Prism in our pocket from the hells, down to the Underdark, unless i'm getting the timeline of this story majorly wrong.
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and b) an account of stelmane's illness.
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Stelmane's condition got worse *after* Balduran/the Emperor disappeared, captured by Gortash and the cult of the Absolute.
Make of that what you will. Is this an actual testimony, or something he somehow planted there for you to find, despite the logistical difficulties in doing so? You decide.
2. The violent rejection is the only branch where he does not tell you how big the elder brain has grown. I think that is because there is an actual reaction on his end; something vicious that he's unused to feeling. Not the cold, calculating pragmatism he was praising in the player character three lines ago. Compare the first branch to the following two paths:
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What i think is: Balduran uses you. The sole thing he cares above all else is his continued survival, any power gained that way is a side benefit to his goal. If you even get the Orphic hammer, even "as leverage," even as you threaten him, he does not "force you" to do anything, as threatened above. Ansur died, yes, but is self defence murder? Neither Ansur nor Balduran deny that Ansur tried to mercy kill Balduran as he slept.
What I also think: you have to succeed at perception check, in the third guardian dream, to figure out that "the hurt runs deeper than they're willing to show you." then, an insight check (something that requires wisdom, what you use to resist, or lean into, the tadpole's hivemind) "beneath the resilient veneer, a touch of fragility. they need comfort." This allows you to hug them, if you desire - something they say "it has been a very long time since someone did that. for [me]".
Make of that what you will.
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aineryeo · 1 month
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The Legend of the Blue Sea Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time
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Chapter Synopsis: The second time Kenji Sato met you was during his junior year of high school. Newly transferred and still getting started on being varsity for the baseball team, he overhears his high school crush talk trash about him. Determined to get back at them, he convinces you, the girl who managed to smack him mid-run with a whiteboard, to be his fake girlfriend for 7 days.
In present time, Kenji and Mina discover how to wake the sleeping beauty up from the magic needle. But when this finally happens, Kenji now has to deal with the realisation that the princess... was a gremlin.
Themes & Warnings (Chapter):
Warnings from the General Masterlist | Flashbacks | Racist Remarks (from Ken's high school) | Bit cliche (forgive 🙏) | Imagine old movie school romance vibes!!! | Fluff | Sexual Innuendos | Kenji Sato is in Denial | 9k words
Author Notes:
I had to cut Episode 3 to two parts because I kept wondering why I'm taking so long to write but then I scanned the chapter and realised I was going 11k and there was still a hefty chunk left from the outline 😭 It took a while to flesh everything out since I spent the past week also adding more details to the other chapters to deepen the flavours 🫴🤌 This is still fluff but the next part is where things start going on the jealous and angst start, the fairytale era bout to transition out!!!
I also found a really cool song that pairs with the theme of the high school memory, it's linked on the title! It's super fitting the vocals are amazing aghhjjr!!
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The Legend of the Blue Sea: Masterlist
Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time ⇾ Episode 3.2: Fish on Land
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Westwood Academy, otherwise known as Westwood University, situated in Los Angeles, is one of the many renowned schools along the state. It hosts preschool to elementary to high school up ‘til college. It's one of the major league schools but is typically known for its.. extravagant prices. Often, along with a list of other universities, they allow for student exchange programs for exceptional scholars, selected around the world, to tour the litter of schools’ labs, attend special classes, or participate in small collaborative projects. Most of it was to allow these one in a million group of children to choose between potential university options.
Of course, even though this prestigious academy offered a massive field for different types of sports and had a pretty amazing reputation for its academic endeavours, for a guy like Kenji Sato, he knew that in the future, he’ll be transferring to the University of Los Angeles, where most athletes start to get drafted into the Major League Baseball drafts.
But that’s not the reason why he’s bursting his way through the halls right now, no. 
Kenji’s running down the hallways because he stayed up too late last night trying to perfect his swing so he can finally get off the bench and play as one of their schools’ main batters. However, it definitely did not help that he spent the days prior studying for his exams too. And now, he slept through majority of his classes, waking up only to find out that in T-minus ten minutes, his Biology class will start, and he’s not too keen on facing the wrath of his teacher chastising him for that Plant Growth Experiment they’ve been rambling on and on about for the past three weeks.
“Out of the way!” Kenji dashes, jumping to avoid the group of students in the hall sitting.
“Sorry, in a rush—”
“Woah, watch those burgers, man.”
So far, he’s been barreling through the hallways great. It’s almost like his athletic instincts are on the high, the adrenaline pumping through his veins being the apt proof needed. 
Jump, duck, dash, side, shwuck!
Kenji can see it, the greenhouse! It’s so close— But the sudden options in his head turn from swerving left, or jumping, to… (a) Crash right into this person rolling out a whiteboard all of a sudden in the middle of the hall without even looking at any passersby, or (b) CRASH but in capital.
The next few seconds, safe to say, were unpleasant.
“Shit, shit, shit!!!” Kenji yells, unable to stop his momentum, all but perfectly rams his face on to the rolling whiteboard.
Overcome with blaring pain on his forehead and nose, Kenji laid on the ground, chest uncomfortably resting on the similarly thrown down whiteboard who was unable to withstand his force. A myriad of groans and repeating ow’s overtook the once silent air. The sound of padding footsteps and a bleary voice soon adds on.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Kenji’s vision was blurry, still trying to adjust to his surroundings, eyes squinting and blinking as he realised that even his torso felt sore from the impact.
“Ugh…”
Suddenly, he feels gentle hands turning him over, pulling him away from the fallen board beneath him, albeit with some difficulty.
“God, you’re heavy.” He hears, moments before feeling his head plop down on pillowy skin.
Soon, his vision adjusts itself, enough so he can see the person holding him by the cheeks right now. And boy, when Kenji says he never felt like his anger dissipated so fast like a balloon deflating upon seeing your face, you best believe him. 
“I think you'll be forming a bruise right here,” You say, all furrowed brows as you turn his face side to side. 
“Oh no, your nose is bleeding now.”
Feeling your soft hold on him disappear, Kenji, all clad in his disarrayed highschool uniform, watches as you try to check your pockets for a handkerchief.
He watches you for a good minute or two trying to figure out where you placed your damned handkerchief, or so you say. Groaning as he picks himself back up, supporting his weight from the back, he distantly hears you say ah! Before he felt you practically shove the thing in his face.
“Here! To wipe your… blood.” You say awkwardly, the bell had rung a minute ago while Kenji thought it was just the ringing in his ears, the more desolate surroundings proved otherwise. He gracefully accepts your offer, lightly tapping the fabric on his nose that gladly did not crook from the impact. Still, it hurt.
You stood up to get the empty whiteboard back on its feet as Kenji stayed seated on the ground in the middle of the hallway that led to the greenhouse. There were no words spoken as both you and him got your bearings. 
At least I got a good excuse to miss Biology now. Kenji randomly thinks as he sighs.
But it isn’t until he hears distant footsteps and voices did his instincts rear in. In hindsight, there was probably no reason for him to have felt so nervous to get caught or anything, it’s not like his nose bleed was fake to not garner a visit to the infirmary. Even so, he felt nervous to get caught. Enough to haphazardly drag you inside the room you came in, bringing the whiteboard along before the door slammed closed. Getting into trouble was not in his to-do list today, not after almost getting into a fight with a basketball player last week.
Your handkerchief was lying on the floor, the surprisingly soft hands of the boy you just met were muffling your surprised yelps with his palm, the other hand shushing you, his pointer finger pressing to his own lips. When the voices come closer, Kenji finally realises that it wasn’t a teacher that was walking towards them. It was his first crush ever since he transferred in Los Angeles when he was 8.
“So, are you going to respond to Ken-Ken anytime soon, Ash?” A litter of giggles follow as Kenji felt the heat rising up to his ears from the embarrassing nickname.
“Stoppp, you know I have to be nice because I’m class rep.” Ashley whines, stomping her foot and stopping just in front of the door of the classroom where you and Kenji hid. The action made you and him duck to the floor, nervous to get caught.
“Have you seen his eyebags lately? He looks horrible! I can’t believe he even asked for my help with Chemistry earlier, seriously. Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?”
"I know, right? And what’s with his accent? It’s like, get over yourself. He tries too hard sometimes. That’s probably why he’s just benched in the baseball team." Her friend snickers.
"And don’t get me started on his lunches. So gross!" Another one pipes in. “He eats raw fish and even eggs sometimes. Eugh…” She lurches.
Kenji hears a sigh, before the familiar voice of Ashley cuts through her friends. “Anyway, let’s go finish fetching the plants,”
“Didn’t Ken-Ken forget his project?”
“Talk about going against his nature, haha.”
The whole conversation made his shoulders and hands drop once their footsteps disappear. His demeanour immediately went from running through the halls to lying on the floor, and this time, it’s not because of a rolling whiteboard. Kenji sighs as he sits back on the floor, hands behind him as he looked up, the classroom was relatively dark, it was one of the extras, after all. His eyes close as he breathes in heavily, contemplating; ignoring the continuous trickle of red down his chin.
You, on the other hand, were perplexed. But seeing the situation, you can guess at least that much. After all, you were entering college at the ripe age of fifteen. In a tongue that Kenji hadn’t heard in a long time aside from phrases from his mom, you spoke. Quietly. Afraid to topple the fragile pieces that was the boy you just met.
“Was that you they were talking about?” You get the forgotten handkerchief on the floor, dried blood on some parts as you try to pat the dust away.
Kenji’s eyes open. And they meet yours. Worried yet curious, shimmering orbs, and gentle delicate hands that dabbed on his nose.
“Yeah.” He replies meekly, forgoing the language his peers spoke in, now matching yours. He didn't miss a beat in his language class, and his mom would definitely chastise him if he didn't know how to speak his mother tongue at all.
You give him a lopsided smile. “It would have been really awkward if you didn’t speak Japanese.”
Kenji chuckles at this. “Had doubts? What, not Japanese enough for you?”
You hum. “Does it matter? Being enough of one or the other.”
“...Well, no..” 
Kenji huffs, laying on his back. “But it sure would make my life a hell of a lot easier.”
“Laying down isn’t good if you’re having a nose bleed.” You frown, about to reach down so you can pinch his nose. 
As Kenji rummages through his brain, talking about how love, even though it was only a minor crush, absolutely sucks; his mind runs over what you said. 
Nose bleed… 
Then like a lightbulb; a sudden, stupid idea pierces through his blinded teenage head as he grabs your wrist and sits upright.
“You gave me this nose bleed.” Kenji starts, pointing to said appendage. And you were about to apologise, but he continues far too fast. “So, you have to do something for me.”
“What? Isn’t my handkerchief and recommendation to go to the infirmary not enough?”
“Wasn’t the one hogging the middle of the hallway.”
“Well I wasn’t the one running in the hallway. Section 5.8 of your school’s student handbook said no running in the halls.”
“Your sch—” Kenji’s eyes drift down to see that you aren’t wearing the standard uniform for the academy. Instead, you were in civilians. “Ohhhh,”
“Hah, can’t believe an exchange scholar like me know more than a veteran.” 
“Never said I was a veteran.” Kenji shrugs. “And even if I was, what kind of normal person just rolls out a big whiteboard without looking outside?”
And just like that, it felt like there was some sort of.. mischievous jazz in the background, the words kept coming out, and out. Your arms and his start crossing, and you both inch closer and closer, with every retort.
“Have you ever heard of speed limits? You should stop dreaming about getting a driver’s licence at this point, Sir.”
“Getting this show on the road, huh? Well… ever heard of mid-lane hogging, Ma’am?”
“Oh? Did you just use an idiom literally? Cheesy.” You roll your eyes.
“Actually, that was a double entendre. I used it literally, and as intended. Too bad my ingenuity went over your head. Aren’t you supposed to be one of those exchange scholars? Did they get you mixed up with someone else?”
“I wish ingenuity was an antonym for genius right now.” You shake your head with a faux frown.
“Running out of fuel? ‘Cause that was pretty lame.” Kenji harrumphs, not noticing his nose bleed had stopped minutes ago. “Admit it. Your car crashed.”
“Is it my fault if your car crashed into mine?” 
“Flat tire.” 
Huh? 
What was he— your eyes follow his, and it stares from your chest, back to your eyes. Still confused, something Kenji is quickly able to notice, he repeats what he said with a smirk.
“I said… you’re a.. Flat. Tire.”
Realising where he was going, you felt blood boil up to your head as your hand begins to raise. “Ohoh! You monster! I’ll give you more than a nose bleed when I’m done with you—!”
“I’d be… flat-tered.” Kenji pipes up one more time. 
You were not flat! You were just… a late bloomer! That’s it! 
Unbeknownst to you, Kenji had no qualms with your chest at all, no. And you were definitely not lacking in that department. He just thought that it was a metaphor for someone being so damn… disagreeable. It wasn’t his fault that your shirt was pulling down and he spared but a minute glance.
In all honesty, both of you, stuck in that moment, forgot what you were arguing about in the first place. When your hand was about to land smack on his cheek, he grabs it and pulls you closer to him, a wide grin on his face.
“Come on, help a victim out. We’ll just be giving them… something else to talk about.”
~
You did not know why you’d agreed to this. 
But you did. 
“No, no. Absolutely not! Plus, I’m not even popular or something, what statement are you really making there?”
“Well… you’re really pretty.”
He was incredibly insistent, and you felt like you owed him even though you gave him your handkerchief because it had his blood on it. Definitely not because your brain fried when he casually called you pretty with such an earnest face, like arguing would not even make sense to him. You would’ve called him dumb, stupid, or… or something! If he wasn’t speaking so smoothly earlier. Clearly, he does his homework and then some.
At the time, while he decided to skip Biology to head to the clinic with you in tow, you got to know each other just a little bit. Your new.. friend, knew that you’ll be going back to Japan in a few days, so he had to be bold to really make his statement. The stakes were low, and the rewards, at least for Kenji, could be high; enough to save face and show everyone that he does not care about the squeaky class representative.
Kenji preferred to speak to you in Japanese so that only few, if not anyone, could really overhear what you two were talking about.
Eventually, you really had to go and promised to meet in front of the empty classroom where you two hid the morning next day, when your group would have to do some collaborative projects. 
And when you separate and return back… Imagine your group, mixed with different ethnicities, academic nukes as you would like to call them, sees you with no whiteboard in hand after being gone for almost an hour or two… embarrassing.
Even more so, when he comes to school the next day, not even waiting to go to your designated meeting location so he can hug you in the middle of their field, catching your group off guard. He’d talk to you and call you a slew of nicknames, most notably…
“Sweetheart! Got you some sandwiches that my mom made. Wanna go eat lunch together at the cafeteria?” Emphasis on the cafeteria, his thick brows wiggling at the word.
He’d hold your hand, and if there was free time for his practices and your little assigned activities, he’d be sitting next to you by the bleachers as you read through the material your temporary mentors recommended. He was sweaty, and he’d be gasping for air, but a wide grin was on his face as he told you he’d stolen so many bases this time. And that he’d hit a few good home runs, how he’ll definitely get a spot on the main team today, all before his coach would call him back with a loud, stern voice. 
“Sato!”
He’d leave, yes. But not before he gives you a kiss on the cheek before waving you off as he jogs backwards with a stupid grin.
“What’re you reading?” Kenji would ask. 
You’d look up from the cafeteria table, and he’s leaning closer to you to try and get a read in.
“Advanced Robotics: Pioneering Techniques and Applications by Robert Callaghan.” You reply, not missing a beat in your reply.
Kenji would whistle and then proceed to sit beside you as he takes out his lunch. A bento box. 
“Want to do a lunch switch? I always wanted to do that.” He asks with puppy eyes matched with a big smile, hands clasped together as he pleaded. 
“And I loveee curry!” He adds on.
You notice that he was easy to change demeanours when it came to you. Whether it was because you were from Japan too, or because he knew you'd be leaving, allowing for him to continue acting how he wants to without any true repercussions— you.. would never know.
You smile before sighing out a sure after popping out a deal that he had to buy you ice cream after though, to which he hollers and fist bumps the air as you exchange boxes with an eager face. 
You’ll both be in sync when you pick the food with your chopsticks, sighing out a satisfied puff of air while both your cheeks were lathered with the comforting flavour of home.
He never asked for your number. But he’ll wait out of the lecture rooms you’d be in that day, saying he’s just asking the teachers around where the scholars were so he can rush over; offering to carry your bag and walk in step with you. 
All in the name of getting back at his ex-crush, of course. 
And every time he catches a glimpse of the angered look on his ex-crush, he attunes it to the blooming joy in his chest when he glances back at you, going on a rant about how no, they should have planned the encoding before building the robot. So now, we lost!
You’ll feel a ruffle on your head and a laugh from the taller boy beside you.
Then, you’ll arrive to the front gates. Kenji standing still as you say: “You don’t have to act here anymore, you know? I doubt anyone’s watching anymore.”
Kenji clears his throat, coughing a little, avoiding your gaze. “Well… You might get kidnapped for all I know. I won’t have a sweetheart by then, wouldn’t I?”
“Pfft.” You fail to conceal the bubbling laughter from your throat. 
“You’re cheesy as hell,” You tease back, taking your clasped hands away from his so you can lean sideways as you grin. “...sweetheart.” 
Kenji could barely get a stuttered reply out before the familiar black car that was from the exchange program drives you to your shared hotel with the other scholars and professors. That day, and the following would go by the same. With him simply giving a lame wave off before the escort drives you away.
All until you finally had to return to Japan; your last day. Like clockwork, however, even on your last day, Kenji would walk with you to the front gates. His steps slow every second, and you would mirror him, you’d go slower, and slower, and even more so; still, you arrive at the front doors.
When Kenji placed a heavy hand to open them, it revealed a slew of raindrops falling from the stormy sky.
“Ah, it wasn’t raining earlier.” Kenji notes. “Got to practise and everything…” He rubs the back of his neck.
“Really? Seems like it’s been going on a while.” You appraise quietly, Kenji only hums in reply.
Like the rain falling in the sky, there was a heavy downpour that neither of you could ever place in the meagre age of highschool, even if you were advancing to college much faster.
“So, you’re going back to Japan today?”
“Yup.” You awkwardly reply as you sway on your feet. Back and forth. “Still have to actually graduate high school before picking my college, you know?”
And it’s quiet again as you both try to think of what to say. It was only a week, and yet… Kenji had never had such a true friend since he moved to Los Angeles when he was a young kid.
“Well, if you wanna see me again, since I know you’ll miss me— oof.” You punch his chest lightly, making him puff out air, as you both eventually chuckle.
“Who says I’ll miss you? You just coerced me into getting chummy with you. Never again.” You huff, crossing your arms and raising your chin indignantly.
“All I’m saying is… if you pick a university close by, I’ll be at ULA soon. I’ll get into the Dodgers for sure.” He’s told you this in one of your many little conversations. The University of Los Angeles, home of the LA Dodgers and the Dodger Stadium.
You look at him and you share a genuine smile as the breeze from the rain sends a peculiar sparking chill down both your spines. 
“Sure. I’ll come visit when I’m nearby… hopefully.” You trail off.
Even with the laughter and the once more inevitable silence, there was always something on the tips of yours and Kenji’s tongue. Something to say, some things to ask. And yet, you ball on your feet and he thinks of letting go of your hand that he realises he was clasping too tightly in an embrace with his own fingers.
However, when the recurring black car arrives, you let go before he does, as you dashed through the rain. You turn back, and Kenji’s watching from the safety of the school entrance as you get drenched even though you try to put your bag over your head. 
You want to say something, anything. Yet all you could do is give a solemn wave and a smile.
He waves back and you turn away to jog closer to your ride back home, a few steps away from the gate, form stilling as you contemplate getting into the car.
You glance back, and he’s turned away, walking deeper into the school, probably so he won’t get wet. And your mouth opens, but it says nothing; calls out no one.
Your eyes flit to the black car; one last chance. 
You can’t help it. You want to tell him more. 
You want to tell him how you wish him luck on his career, maybe wish he could find better friends, find a better girl to crush on— and you turn back, one last time, words burning on the tip of your tongue. 
But it dies down when your vision meets a familiar uniform. 
Kenji’s chest, heaving, as you both get wet in the onslaught of the rain; his hand on your wrist, willing you to stop, as he opens and closes his mouth. The words were on the tip of his tongue; unknowingly mirroring each other in ways you barely had the time to think about after spending only seven days within each other’s presence.
But before you could even squeak out a word, you feel his bigger hands wrap around your now cold cheeks, and in no time… 
His warm, soft lips on yours. 
Your eyes close, following his tilted head as your hands reach up to hold the hands caressing and holding your face in place. It felt like a sun in the rain, unlike anything you’ve ever felt; and it distantly reminds you of an old childish memory back in the old playground in Odaiba before you and your brothers had to move away to your Aunt’s cafe.
It felt like an eternity of your inexperienced lips melding into each other, and suddenly all too fleeting when you finally pull apart. The honking of the horn from your driver finally takes you both out of your trance. The sudden shattering of the scenario made you glance back to the school entrance, where Kenji’s crush, the reason why you started all of this with him, was standing and watching; and suddenly, you feel your heart pull back the same way that you pulled your body away from him, lightly pushing his chest away.
“I’ll see you.” You whisper, a hint of sadness that Kenji picked up on too late; eyes trained on your similarly drenched figure rushing to the front seat of your escort. 
He was too dazed, trying to sculpt the image of his first kiss into his brain. That is, if he forgoes the girl who kissed him when he was seven.
“Good luck, Jiji! I’ll see you.” You wave with a forcibly mischievous tone, as if you didn’t feel anything from that kiss, you close the door to the black car whose engine was finally preparing to take off from the high school.
Kenji stands there, wordless, ears red not just from the kiss, but now from that… cute nickname.
“I’ll… see you.” He replies, raising his hand weakly, not caring if the rain still poured heavily on him.
It took a minute after the car left did he realise.. Wait, what was her name again?
“Wait. She knows my name. She knows my name—?” He must be the stupidest guy alive for not even asking anything about you… your number, or… or, or your damn name. 
Kenji grasps his hair, berating himself inside for his stupid decisions. Of course, you know! He never asked yours because he resorted to calling you those cheesy pet names. He didn't think it would matter. 
But then he kissed you and now, suddenly, he knows it matters so much.
 Fuck. 
Fuck! 
The car was already driving away, and— and Ashley, who seemingly came out of nowhere for Kenji Sato whose mind was only running with thoughts of you and his stupidity, was talking about something, something getting her jealous and she knows, and—
Kenji doesn’t get to hear the rest of her statement as he begins running into the rain, trying to not lose sight of the car where you sat. Neither you whose face was currently buried in your hands, willing yourself to forget of the meaningless kiss, nor the driver who was focusing on the road ahead, was able to see the boy trying to catch up as the engine simply revs faster along the empty road.
He borrowed a bicycle just laying on the sidewalk, the owner, who looked away for a second, yelling at him. 
“I’ll give it back, I promise!” Kenji yells as he tries to pedal through the storm like his life depended on it.
As he rides through the rain, he tries to yell after the car. “Wait, sweetheart, come back!”
“I didn’t do it because of her, I—” He heaves, losing his breath and feeling cold as the car goes faster, the rain falling heavier in turn; rumbles of thunder following suit. 
I didn’t kiss you because she was there. Was what he wanted to say.
Could we keep in touch? Was what he wanted to ask.
Please pick a university close by. Was what he wanted. Really, really wanted. From you.
Kenji pedals harder, his muscles burning as he pushes against the heavy downpour. He can see the car’s taillights glowing dimly in the distance. He’s gaining on it. Just a little more…
“Sweetheart!” He yells out, his voice barely audible over the roaring storm. For a moment, he thinks he sees the car slow down, as if you heard him. His heart leaps with hope. He pushes harder, the distance between him and the car shrinking.
But just as he gets within a few yards of the car, it speeds up again, the taillights growing fainter. Kenji’s legs are screaming in protest, his lungs burning from the effort. He’s so close, yet so far.
He reaches out a hand, as if he could touch the car, as if he could make you hear him. But the rain obscures his vision, and the car speeds away, disappearing into the distance.
Kenji finally stops running, the bicycle falling to the ground as he bends over, trying to catch his breath. He’s soaked to the bone, every part of him aching, but the worst pain is in his chest.
In the distance, the car disappeared from view, taking you along with it.
“Sweetheart…” he whispers to himself, feeling the sting of regret seeping into his being.
Even with all his developing athletic might, Kenji Sato, who was still barely entering the cusps of his future stardom, could not catch up to his first crush. Thoughts forever unvoiced  to the person that mattered enough for him when he was still a junior in high school.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It was hard.
Kenji’s day would start at around 5 AM, and end… its end was dependent, really. He would feed the baby, research more about kaiju, study whatever form or strategy Coach Shimura would give, clean the baby's poop, entertain her, and generally stop her from lashing out. Then train and look stupid in this season's games because he wasn't getting some apt sleep. Sometimes it was paranoia that the baby would cry or need something, most of the time it's because the baby did cry and needed something.
Aside from his baseball, baby, and Ultraman responsibilities, there still was the unknown variable that was… well, you.
The half-kaiju human. 
The giant mermaid. 
You were silent a lot of the time, and often it would pass in Kenji's mind that you were either a ghost or a living fairytale. Maybe a witch cursed you and took away your voice, or maybe a witch cursed you and forced you to sleep for long periods of time. Because after you.. took that ice bath with him, you laid still in bed for the next two days.
Kenji would thank the damn heavens when you were awake, even for just a day before you slumbered for abnormal periods of time again. Whenever you were awake, the baby would be easier to tend to. Less hungry, more happy; she'll make grabby for you when you go down, and you’ll lay there, your head on the glass container as that familiar tune keeps the baby in a state of calm for the rest of the day. Often, you would forget to go back to the bedroom and Kenji would come home, sweaty from ball practice to see you asleep in the basement, the giant kaiju baby curled up where you were. Those were the days when you’d wake up when he wasn't home.
When you did wake up and he was home? Well, let's just say that Kenji… could never complain. He’ll get shit from his team and his Coach, but then he's home early that day and you just happen to be awake? You're bounding to him like a magnet on a metal pole. A warmth blanketing his chest, enough to let him sigh out his grievances for the day as he opens the front door and sees your happy face.
He may not understand what he's doing to make you feel overjoyed, but he'll take it. He’ll take it, like how he takes your simple pleas for a hug, like how he takes your face burying into his neck. And he’ll take your open arms, willing him to lay down in bed with you when all things are done, your hands combing through his hair as you coo the familiar sounds of the ocean in his ear. Maybe that's the reason why he’d always carry you back to his room when you fell asleep with Baby even though the guest room had been available for a while now.
“I have now gathered 3 weeks worth of data on the woman, Ken. Would you like the analysis?”
Ah.
Kenji grogs his way up from his bed, your arms back to laying limply, sliding down his naked torso; he preferred sleeping with no shirt on, and he would have been more embarrassed sleeping with a girl he didn't know if he wasn't sure that you were just.. an affectionate creature, person— still figuring that part out.
“Sure, go ahead, Mina.” He yawns, rubbing his eyes as he slouches on his mattress.
“Her last steady transformation into her kaiju form was the time when you took an ice bath with her. A significant difference in her injuries were found compared to her injuries the day before. However, it seemed to have slowed majorly since. Her body seems to prioritise external and surface-level injuries, however as is, she is having trouble truly healing her leg fractures in kaiju form. What I have gathered from my scans is that her severe tail fracture presents differently, or rather, not at all when she inevitably transforms back into her half-human self. She has attempted transformation a couple of times when in proximity of the baby, all of which only lasted less than 3 minutes.”
Kenji nods, taking it all in. However, he can't help but snort when the thought pops in his head. “So, what? I should take a bath with her again and see if that makes it better?”
The robot remains silent, and Kenji basks in the awkward bliss of forgetting that Mina is not exactly programmed to be the best buddy in terms of jokes landing.
“If you wish so, Ken.”
Kenji sputters at this, but he realises he might have been too loud as he looks back. Though futile, considering the information he just heard, you would probably be asleep for days even if he screamed all he wanted, considering your everlasting affection for him last night; the pattern was undeniable. The reminder of your comforting caresses sends an involuntary.. pleasurable shiver down his spine.
So Kenji, in turn, whisper-yells to Mina. “It was a joke!”
“Ha-ha.”
“I should tell dad to install a comedian chip in you.” He crosses his arms. “So? What should we do? We can't have her sleep forever. If we can get her up and going, raising the baby would be ten, no, a hundred times easier! Have you seen how much the baby likes her mama?”
“While she is not her biological mother, yes, I have observed the phenomenon. My theory is that she has connections with Gigantron prior.”
This makes Kenji perk up. “Really? How’d you know?”
“She has lingering scales and residue from the passed kaiju.”
“Wait..”
“No,” Mina immediately interjects. “I’ve discretely gotten samples from her tail when she transforms; quite easy to gather due to their wide difference in colour. I believe their relations are similar to the idea of companionship. They must have been friends. Especially considering Gigantron is oviparous and that they are both Female.”
Kenji lets out a sigh of relief that he didn't know he was holding. It was just.. an unpleasant thought. He didn't even see it as possible, considering your kaiju was a mermaid. But what did he know? That's why he was flipping textbook over textbook in hopes of understanding both you and the baby some more.
“On the course of that line of thinking, I am sure she's not taken, Ken. Rest assured. She, like Gigantron, seems to be the sole of her kind. And since she looks to be predominantly human, I doubt animals were attracted to her.”
“Okay, getting a little graphic here. I did not need to know any of that.” He shakes his head, putting his hand up towards the floating ball.
Today was a weekend, he just flunked his game again yesterday, and everything was going awful as it usually did. Until he went home and realised it was one of his lucky days. Slept like a baby last night, and today, he can sleep in because when you tuck the baby in, normal wake up time is moved. Plus, she won't fuss if Mina is to serve the school of fish for breakfast that day.
So now, as Kenji stretched his bare arms back, he looks to you and then back at Mina.
“So, how do we get her better?”
[...]
“I have deduced that water may be the primary factor in her physical healing process. Since she is waterborne, it could only be natural.” Mina explains, floating next to Kenji's shoulder as the man, dressed in only his sweats, carried you in his arms all the way to the tub in the bathroom this time.
“Alright, water makes her better.”
You, right now, kept to your iridescent appearance. However, your litter of scales and the webs between your fingers were disappearing. The only semblance left that Kenji would ever deem inhumane is how silky your skin was, much like your unusual hair, and eyes, if you opened them. His mind briefly flashes to when you got in the ice bath with him, when your features sheened a bit more natural than it usually was. A lot of questions lingered on Kenji's tongue.
“Remember when she healed me that night, Mina?”
The bot whirrs and affirms. “Yes. I remember your recount of it. Since I did not witness the act, I do not have much information. Perhaps her innate regenerative capabilities can be conducted. Did you notice anything strange at the time?”
Kenji thought hard. But who was he kidding? He went stupid the moment you dipped into the bath with him. He could've left but he didn't, not when you had him in this sort of.. chokehold. Finding himself wanting your affection, your acts of spoiling him, while he’ll have this forming desire to please you.
“...No.” He meekly replies, not really wanting to spare Mina any more details of the day; even though Kenji was sure that the AI knew he just melted into you that night the same way he would whenever you waked to coddle him and the baby… It just always seemed to work so well.
Kenji places you into the tub gently.
“Mina, one last thing before you handle the bath. Research more about my symptoms, tell me if you find anything, alright?”
“Yes, Ken.” Mina replies, allowing Kenji to walk out of the large bathroom as Mina undresses you from Kenji’s clothes, changed daily by the bot as well.
[...]
“I believe it is your body's natural response to avoid the physical pain you feel in your kaiju form.” Mina’s voice was slightly muffled by the closed door that led to the bathroom.
Kenji came barreling back in while preparing his special shake when he felt this inexplicable wrapping of panic in his chest. It's familiar, and he knows it's not his.
“Mina? What's going on?” His stern voice cuts through the whimpers and the soft cries in the bathroom.
“Ken.” Mina acknowledges his presence as his eyes dart to the tub.
You were about to transform to your kaiju. Slowly getting bigger. Kenji notices this, taking you away from the tub, as you slowly but surely developed your kaiju features with each whine from your lips.
“We gotta get her to the basement stat.” Kenji almost barks the order out, wide strides as he ran to the elevator.
“And the baby?”
“Baby will have to wait for a bit.” Kenji replies, tapping his foot as the elevator took him and Mina down. The pink kaiju still wrapped in her own self, dozing.
“Uhhh, water, right?” The elevator dings, and by now you were getting a little too big even for Kenji’s better strength. He doesn’t waste time transforming into his counterpart, allowing you to lay on his palms as you grew, and with your size, came your more prominent wounds.
“Open the water gates, Mina. And extend a platform around the window.”
By now, your tail was in full display and you size was enough for him to carry you in his arms while in Ultra. Your eyes still closed in pain as you let out soft, vulnerable cries. It grasps at Kenji’s heartstrings more than you’d ever know. Finally, Ken managed to get settled on the extended platform just on the other side of his wide underwater window, where the baby was slowly but surely rubbing her eyes awake.
“Mina, are you sure she’s okay?”
“She will become better when she is in water. It stimulates her natural DNA, she will heal faster there.” Mina assures.
Kenji nods slowly, eyes never leaving your forcefully closed ones. Your hands were clutching yours and his chest simultaneously. Looking closer across your scale-addled body, conveniently covering the swells of your breasts before lightly avoiding the area of your tummy, only to connect to your magnificent tail— that he notices only now, was bent in a slightly awkward shape. When he reaches out a hand to assess the damage, even the smallest touch made you jolt and open your eyes with downturned brows.
“Hi…” Kenji whispers. “Sorry… Uhm,” He never did call you much of anything, did he? So he blurts out the first thing that came to mind. “— Sweetheart. Did it hurt? Hm? It’s okay, you feel better here, right?”
Surprisingly, you nod, as if you understood him. The whimpers die down as you suck in a breath. Seems like you liked your little nickname.
“Good girl.” Kenji praises, and he feels that familiar blanket around his chest; joy. Oh, you liked that too? Could you actually understand? “Keep taking deep breaths, okay?”
Amidst the seawater where the island rocks and the school of fish would provide the blue atmosphere its renowned ambiance, you did something that actually did blow Kenji and quite possibly Mina’s, minds. 
“Thank you.” You’d said.
Kenji would look at you, his Ultra’s glowing eyesight mixing with the bioluminescent glow of the water, aquamarine and sky blue against the monochromatic shades of blue from the once undisturbed waters.
“Kenji.” You’ll add, not breaking eyesight against the Ultra who held you close to his chest.
The man in question was speechless. Your voice catching him off guard, he’d heard it in small hums and coos, and cries— but now, you’ve actually said something. He was still unable to speak, but the yawn of the baby and the familiar shrieks as her tubby hands banged on the glass container to face you and Kenji, begging to be part of the circle.
“It seems the baby has awoken. What would you like to do, Ken?”
You notice this, and peer off his shoulder to look the baby in the eye. She pouts and cries, and your hand moves to beckon her over.
“Baby, come.” You said simply.
“Open the container, Mina, and let her out.” Kenji instructs, finally broken out of his self-induced trance.
When the AI does as it was told, the tiny pink kaiju, tiny in comparison to her step-in parents that is— had begun its steps out into the water, Kenji almost yelps as he forgot that the added extension didn’t reach the gates. Baby who didn’t know how to swim yet, made Kenji inwardly panic when she sank for even a quarter of a second. All before she seemed to be wrapped in a bubble of water that made her float all the way to both you and him, with it popping so she landed in between the closed space of yours and Kenji’s torsos.
She squeaked happily.
It was almost what one could consider a picture-perfect family moment. And Mina was sure to capture the moment in question; if not but to send it to Professor Sato. Taking a vial of a sample from the now luminescent water was also one of Mina’s agendas, which she does discreetly.
“You can talk?” Kenji asks once you three got settled, with papa being the carrier of the brunt. He's deeply fascinated. 
“How?”
[...]
 Two weeks had passed since Kenji and Mina found out that you were able to understand and communicate because you were listening in to both him and the AI in your sleep or the few times you’ve been awake. Since then, the routine changed up once again, now that you were more frequently awake.
You still couldn’t do complicated schedules, but there were a mix of positive and negative setbacks, as all things are. The most positive side is that you’re there now for the baby, you’re eager to learn from Mina who’d play you educational videos or give you books to read after you relearnt your basic language, of course. And life seems to be doing slightly better for Kenji now that you were truly taking on the mom role.
“Well done, Sato.” His coach grunts, arms crossed. “Your plays suddenly got better this week. Whatever you're doing, don't mess up like last times.” 
Now, you might be wondering: Okay, so what's the downside?
Dishes cluttered as sounds of footsteps throttling wake Kenji up in the middle of the night. And if he hones his listening, sounds of a left-open TV show and some uncontrolled laughter was coming from the living room. He’d move his arm to pat the— you guessed it— empty space beside him. 
Of course you were still up.
When your hunger bout started the same day that you began taking regular rests in the seawater platform by the basement, Kenji taught you that there was food more delicious than Baby's diet. Which was raw, slimy, uncooked, alive fish.
So, he started you with the next best thing: Sushi.
“See? Better than raw— better than live fish, right? Mmmm~” Kenji watches as you take hold of a roll cautiously, looking at him with an unsure face.
You were so enamoured by the taste. So much so, it was endearing at first. He says at first because he didn't know he just unlocked a major foodie within you. You're morbidly curious, and you have an insane appetite. Mina had to work double-time to answer all your questions once you got started on your Language lessons.
Do these little… creatures— 
“Ants.” Kenji inserts for you.
“Do they have feelings? If I take away this grain of sugar, will they get angry? Sad?” Your way of speech was still… developing, clearly. You tended to speak more formally because of the educational material.
He wishes he can read your thoughts to that extent, but he’s stuck with… whatever you did right now. 
Sometimes, he’d feel when you were happy, most of the time it would be when he opens the front door; your bare feet pit-a-patting on the solid ground of his private home before you jump in his arms. He’d feel when you’re sad, whenever a favourite character from whatever TV show seems to get sick, or worse, die. 
Oh, he’d feel you sad, alright. 
He’d have to deal with it in bed when you’re wetting the pillowcases with your tears and small sobs. Rarely does he feel you getting mad. The only other time he can remember is when he brought the baby home with him the first time.
And all those little things. The distance doesn’t seem to matter, he’ll feel a distinct mirror of what you did permeate through his chest. He won’t know from what, but he’d be left to speculate whenever Coach Shimura scolding him, or his teammates were talking behind his back for his recently shitty performance. It was a nice distraction, and since, he notices, that your most common emotion seems to be happy, it lightens him up. Wait, what was he saying again?
Aside from that, scratch a good half of what he said— if you considered your massive amounts of food intake, there was the issue of you actually eating. It was a hefty job teaching you table manners and Kenji was running out of shirts.
“Minaaaa,” Kenji calls out with an exasperated tone, bounding into the living room, hair messy and body heavy with you clinging on to his form like a backpack while giggling.
“I am running out of clothes to wear. We need to get her,” He points to you and bite his finger lightly. “—her own things.”
“Of course, Ken.”
“And you,” He jumps, and your hold around his neck tightens, much like your legs around his torso. “Get off!”
It’s a minute of Kenji trying to get you to let go of him, with you eluding his touches to the side of your stomach that he recently found out you’ve grown ticklish to.
“Ohoh, you want to make this difficult, princess?”
“But I do not want to!!! Stop!! Stop— HAHAH— Noooooo!!!”
He managed to tackle you to the couch as your laughs and heaving wheezes filled the air; not noticing that he started laughing along, hands unyielding from trying to rub over the sides of your sensitive stomach. 
“Ken, I apologise for interrupting such a precious moment, but what in particular do you wish for me to order for her?”
Snapping out of his daze, he’s suddenly made aware of how he was leaning down on you; shirtless. You wore one of his dark blue long-sleeved shirts along with his boxers, shirt slightly riding up, the other slowly riding down in contrast. Your legs were loosely resting around his waist with you still looking up the ceiling while you tried to catch your breath. And when your eyes meet his, it feels like his heart jumped to his throat, his nerves getting the best of him made him immediately jump off the couch.
Kenji clears his throat, hand on his hip while turning away from you to respond to Mina who he dearly hopes does not make another comment about—
“Your temperature is rising. Shall we continue this discussion another time? You might develop a fever.”
“Aha, no, Mina.” He saves face. “I’m fine, I’m not sick. It’s just— it’s hot in here, isn’t it?”
“Sick? Fever?” You pipe up as you begin walking slowly towards Kenji who flinches as he senses your oncoming presence. “You are sick, Kenji? I have seen characters become sick on TV. Are you going to die? Kenji!?”
Your hands were gripping his shoulders so tightly with every word, your face scrunched in so much worry as if he had Stage 4 Cancer. You started shaking him haphazardly in your bouts.
“Answer me!”
“You are not allowed to die!”
“Come to the water with me. I must heal you. Immediately.”
Kenji, a little dazed from the back and forth of your earlier shaking, finally finds a reply when you determined that you can most likely heal him, moving to drag him to the bathroom; presumably back in the bath tub.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, sweetheart. Calm down.” Your tight grip on his hand reminds him of another fact that he and Mina has learned.
Somehow, you’re able to retain a semblance of your kaiju strength in half-human form. He finds this out in an instant when he tried to deny you ramyeon once when you were still prone to tantrums. Kenji hisses when you let go of his right wrist, his other quickly rubbing against the area on instinct.
“Oh no, did I… hurt you?” You say, timidly. A wild contrast from your earlier and regular demeanour. Another thing he noticed is that apart from you being extremely clingy with him, you.. oddly care for him; what he thinks, how he’s feeling.
Kenji sighs and pats your head right after. “No, princess, I’m all good. No bruises, see? It’s okay.” He reassures you, remembering that last time when you found out you injured him, you bawled and apologised for the whole night.
“I’m okay.” He pinches your cheek to get you to look at him, knowing that you’re beating yourself up in your head. If your sudden silence wasn’t enough of an indicator, he didn’t know what is. 
“Ah, Mina, so about her stuff…” Ken starts, looking back after sensing the presence of the AI bot silently hovering behind him. “Just get her whatever essentials you think she needs and might need.”
“Got it, Ken. As for her clothes, will we have a set budget? Preferred brands?”
“You kidding? Just buy anything. Whatever’s popular these days.” Kenji shrugs as he looks down at you who was trying to dissect their conversation. He’ll look down from his shirt to your bare feet.
“Shoes, sleepwear,” Kenji tries to list.
“How about her underwear, Ken?” Okay, at this point, the robot was probably teasing him.
Kenji sputters, feeling heat crawl up to his face again. Of course, why didn’t he think of that?
“I was just about to say it, Mina.” He sassily remarks.
“Any preferred design?” Okay, at this point, the robot was definitely teasing him.
“Shut up.” He spares you a glance and you simply looked clueless. Thank God.
When screeches started to emanate from the basement, all three of you perked up. But you suddenly cut them off. “Oh! Baby!” 
“I will go down.” You offered, not really giving them respite as you cheerfully jogged to the elevator.
This brings up another topic for both Kenji and Mina.
“Soon, we will be able to ask her about Kaiju Island.”
“Uhuh,”
“What are your thoughts about it, Ken?”
“I mean… it would be convenient to know the place. But even if we do, we can’t just leave the baby and her there alone. Without a mom, the baby would die.” And…
“Of course.” The bot responds with a tone that suggests she knew that Kenji wanted to say more.
“And we can’t just leave her in Kaiju Island now. It’s just— we haven’t found a case yet, and I’m still practising for baseball… you know?” 
We can deal with it off season, a hidden voice within a deep compartment in his brain says.
“I perfectly understand, Ken.” Still with that cheeky tone. For a robot, Mina can get quite expressive, much to Kenji’s dismay.
Kenji groans, ignoring the bot’s teasing while running a hand through his morning hair. 
“Have all her things delivered by tomorrow or as early as possible to the drop-off point so I can pick it up in my car after practice. And help her understand how some things work, I know she’ll be confused with… some stuff.”
The robot hums. “I have a suggestion as well, Ken. I believe if our goal is to help identify her and get her acclimated to human society, it would be best if she knew places outside of the house. And perhaps other people outside of—”
“Outside of me?” Kenji squints, crossing his arms. “What are you suggesting?”
“If you want to expand the possibility of her regaining her old memories by chance, if our theory is correct that she was a past human — based on the articles that dated first sighting of her three years ago— then it would be helpful if she is reminded of the society she grew up in. And she might develop her original traits more if she interacts with other people in a controlled , yet natural environment.”
Kenji remained silent. He knew Mina was right, but… “I don’t know… It’s still a little risky.”
However, it is true that Kenji feels a little bad now that he thinks about it. How you were also feeling indebted enough to take care of a baby that wasn’t your own, while he and Mina occasionally wrote notes and shared minute observations about you like you were a lab rat… 
“Okay, fine. I’ll take her to Roppongi once I’m free, she’ll probably love the food there. Lots of people.” He shrugs, walking backwards to his room as he faces the hovering bot.
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Taglist: @moonjellyfishie @mochminnie @lovingyeet @vrxouei @secretyna @misdollface @emosakumas @bol0-de-morang0 @n4muqr @blooscool
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cerberus-new-owner · 28 days
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anyone else see headcannons for the om! characters and think of their own for a completely different topic like seriously i was reading headcannons about how the brothers would react to MLP (by @byte-your-tongue for those curious i would recomend looking at the post it made me laugh) and i started thinking up headcannons on how they would sleep like what??
Anywayssss here some headcannons about how i think the characters would sleep (with and without mc cause i feel like some of the would change how they sleep with someone next to them)
Part 1 - The Brothers Part 2 - The Angels + Solomon Part 3 - Diavolo + Barbatos
content thingy btw: the brothers are kind of implied to be dating mc but it can really be taken how you wish, also gn!mc, ooooo ooo oooo and a few pet names (dove, treasure, player 2, love) and a bit of fluff to
Lucifer
w/out mc- on back stiff as a board, mans becomes a plank of wood dare i say even a brick unmoving and silent no snores no sleep talk and somehow takes up his entire bed (he's probably in his demon form) also a very light sleeper he's gotta be ready for anything and everything disaterous that could happen in the middle of the night
w/ mc- buuuuuuut when mc shows up and starts sharing his bed he starts to sleep talk like when mc first showed up in the devildom he started doing it every now and then cause of stress (i sleep talk when stressed lol) but when they started sharing a bed he started sleep talking alot more the stress probably coming from him not wanting one of his brothers (mammon, levi, asmo) to A to walk into his room and fall asleep ontop of him and mc cause they want mc cuddles to or B straight up steal mc from his grasp (he protec) oooooor lucky number C take photos of the two and use them as blackmail (mams, satan and belphie), still no snoring, 20% chance he's in his demon form especially if its winter (wings can be blanket), i also think he may switch from a brick to side sleeper everynow and then for cuddles (touch starvedddddddddd), light sleeper still but like way worse now, will wake up at the sound of a pin drop (force him to wear noise cancelling headphones everynow and then so he gets sleep 'do i have to wear these silly things dove, i'd preffer to keep you safe and the house of lamantation standing than sleep')
Mammon
w/out mc- hes sprawled out (starfish), loud snoring (can be heard across the house), also loud sleep talking (he will get flustered in his sleep and talk for everyone example 'mammon that was such a dumb idea' 'no it aint it was a genius idea' 'mammooooooon, wheres my record') sleeps with his glasses on, also kicks like alot, very deep sleeper would've slept through one of beels late night rampages when the fridge was empty many times
w/ mc- still starfish no room for mc, snoring is still loud (hope mc's got ear buds or smth) sleep talks but now flirts with himself too 'oh mammon did it hurt when you fell' 'of course it did i fell for you after all', has gotten into a better habit of taking his glasses off before sleep (feel like mc got up him for wearing them to sleep) no kicking anymore or atleast not as much mc has gotten kicked off multiple times, still a very deep sleeper but he'll somewhat wake up if mc moves to check on them (its probably just tred mumbles of something like 'ya okay treasure?' or 'you're not going anywhere treasure')
Levi
w/out mc- idk what to put here like he obviously takes up like the entirety of the bathtub he sleeps in, he probably talks to ruri-chan or his online friends in his sleep and does the poses and stuff ruri-chan does also body pillows no blankets just body pillows/hj he's a pretty normal sleeper (when he does sleep) only really waking up to any loud noises
w/ mc- still dunno but he probably wraps his tail around mc when sleeping (once again he protec) probably like the exact same as w/ out mc but without the poses, still a pretty average sleeper and still talks in his sleep ('nonononononono player two you take on the minions and i'll take on super elite demon dragon fish boss')
Satan
w/out mc- lets be real when hes does sleep its either almost exactly like lucifer (when he goes to sleep willingly) or he's sprawled out with a book on his face, snores but not as loudly as mammon or beel, probably kicks if he falls asleep angry at someone (most likely lucifer) sleeps pretty deeply normally but when pissed off he's a light sleeper almost like he's preparing to explode at the slightest sound, also if he's snuck a cat into his room he's cuddling with the cat
w/ mc- cuddles in the middle of reading a book, mc was sitting in his lap and he was reading to them when they fell asleep and a few hours later still reading the book out loud for the sleeping mc he falls asleep himself, doesn't go to sleep angry as often as before but his sleeping does lighten a little to make sure unwelcome intruders dont enter his space whilst he's with mc, will not move if he's cuddling mc (if he does move and wake them up he's apologising tellng them to go back to sleep ' 'm sorry love go back to sleep')
Asmodeus
w/out mc- kitten snores tiny little baby snores, doesn't kick unles he's having a nightmare, has a night time face mask on deep sleeper and sleeps on his back just not as stiffly as luci and satan, sleep talks on occasion but its usually just him complementing himself 'oh asmodeus you look extra fabulous today' stuff like that
w/ mc- pretty much the exact same mans wants his beauty sleep
Beelzebub
w/out mc - snores louder than mams, sleeps like a brick, human heater, midnight snacks, deeeeeeeep sleeper like an a new level not as bad as belphie but still he won't wake up unless its one of his alarms or he's hungry, if he were to sleep talk it'd probably be the recipe to his faverite food 'beat two eggs, mix the eggs in with the rest of the batter bake for 15 minutes'
w/ mc- me personally i would get him a sleep apnea machine (stops the loud snores) and install several fans for summer months, he would be very clingy too, perfect for winter not so much for summer
Belphegor
w/out mc- dead he might aswell be dead does not move or make a sound pretty boring overall and cold, no sleep talking like i said he might as well be dead
w/ mc- snuggles snuggles snuggles only time he will move is to get closer to mc for snuggles still pertty cold though like if he wakes up before mc, mc better be prepared to be woken up by a pair of cold hands / feet on their back and a very bratty smile to accompany their awakening
i feel like its way to obvious who my favorite brothers are looking at this and which brothers i struggled with lol but oh well....
i may do the dateables next, i also may expand on a few of these (the ones i didn't struggle hardcore with lol)
have a good day, night, evening, breakfast, lunch, morning
having too muvh fun with the masterlist things lol
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freak-accident419 · 2 months
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deprivation
Derek Danforth x AFAB!NB!Reader
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Summary: After scrolling through social media and seeing several beautiful women that you couldn’t be, your insecurities rose into you once more. Believing that Derek deserved someone better, he makes it his mission to prove you wrong.
Word Count: 2.3k
Content: 18+ MDNI, smut, AFAB reader, non-binary/transmasc reader, non-woman reader, reader has had top surgery (reader has no breasts), oral sex (v-receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v penetration, trans guilt, slight internalized transphobia, self-deprecation, angst, fluff, comfort
(A/n: finally a self-indulgent fic by me??? i know, right?! thank you to everyone who supported the creation of this fic, ily guys so much. while the reader in this is an afab enby, anyone is able to read it. no gatekeeping here :3 just a reminder, these are my own experiences and thoughts whenever i’m in a dark place—everyone has different experiences. if you are reading this and are trans in any way, you are beautiful, seen, and loved. thank you to everyone for your support!)
-
Derek began to press soft kisses to your neck, one hand cupping your face and the other caressing your sides. His palm rubs over your stomach, then made its way to your arm, dragging the soft pads of his fingertips against your skin. His kisses felt like heaven to you, each one sending a desperate chill down your spine.
“B—”
“I don’t wanna hear it,” Derek mutters hoarsely as he began to nibble the sensitive skin on your neck, softly biting it between his teeth and sucking, sure to leave red and purple marks much sooner.
Recently, you had a random wave of depression: your insecurities rose back up, much more severe than before, crushing your self-image entirely. Expressing your concerns to your lover, relentlessly insisting that he deserved someone better, someone prettier, someone normal, a bona fide woman, something in him just snapped. He was going to do whatever it took to prove you wrong and convince you that all he wanted and needed was you.
Your previous words had repeated abysmally in his head, like shitty earworm songs. He was brought back to the past moment with your phone in your hand, opened to several pictures of beautiful, confident women and models, something that you could never be. And he could hear your miserable voice reverberating over and over again:
“I deprive you, don’t I?”
So there you were, laid out on the cold mattress where you’ve always slept together. Both of your clothing were sprawled out across the room, tossed carelessly by Derek as he’d previously removed everything himself. You were under him, unsure that he truly wanted this and truly wanted you. Surely he deserved someone much prettier and more normal than you.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” he mumbles, looking up at you slightly before trailing kisses downwards to your collarbone, reaching your chest. “I love you.” Derek began to pepper kisses against the faint line on your chest from your top surgery operation many years ago, the scarring already completely healed. “I don’t want anyone else,” he pressed his lips against the other side, following along the scar, “but you. Do you hear me?”
You nod quietly, but with that, falsely. You were uncertain why you couldn’t just accept his words. It seemed too untrue. You had faith in Derek, you couldn’t doubt him, but you knew that nobody, especially him, should ever be reduced to a partner like yourself. Shouldn’t he be with someone who was much more beautiful than you? Why was he with you? He deserved much more than you. Your body was unnatural, your identity was unnatural, you weren’t normal, your—
“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispers affectionately, wiping their tear at the corner of your eye that left as you had been drowned in those thoughts. “You’re beautiful.” It was like he could read your mind. “You’re so, so beautiful.” You hated it. “You’re perfect.”
Derek pressed his lips to the center of your chest, inhaling deeply as he trailed down towards your stomach, covering it in kisses. Then he reached the top of your thigh, beginning to leave more hickeys, marking you up incessantly. Soft whimpers escaped your pretty mouth, making Derek smirk to himself as he continued, letting his gentle palms caress at your sides.
“I wouldn’t trade you for anyone or anything else, my love,” he declares, rubbing your inner thighs with his thumbs before opening your legs, spreading them out. While you admit that you were still very insecure about your relationship with Derek, you couldn’t help but become aroused from his affectionate touches and words, thus revealing an astonishing wetness between your thighs. Your boyfriend moans softly at the sight, looking up at you while he kissed at your skin right above your clit. “You look so fucking gorgeous, my love, so gorgeous…”
He hooks his arms under your thighs to grip them with his hands before licking up a stripe at your pussy. The sound that escaped your mouth was complete perfection, Derek observing the way your lips parted and eyelids grow heavy, his own lustful eyes boring into yours. He then began to lap his tongue at your center much faster, teasing between your folds, tasting you, kissing you, making your legs squirm under him. “Fuck, you taste so good, baby, what a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he praised breathlessly, “Fuckin’ love your perfect, pretty pussy…” And once you finally feel his lips close around your clit, his warm tongue lingering against it, you moan out in pure pleasure, hands immediately reaching for his hair.
“Ah-ahhhh,” you cry softly as your fingers tangle in his curls, tugging lightly. The pulling sensation prompted Derek to remove one hand from your a thigh, lining up his finger with your entrance as he continued licking at your clit. His finger methodically ran along your wet folds before slowly easing in, slipping so easily inside of you. “M—Mmmm…”
You hummed softly in contentment, feeling his finger explore your insides until he instantly slips another one in, stretching your walls and making you cry out a choked moan. His other hand spreads your other thigh out wider, pumping his two fingers in and out of your wetness at a steady, loving pace.
You felt your own hands fail yourself, falling back down on the mattress as your fingers gripped the sheets below you instead. You could feel the tip of Derek’s tongue flick at your sensitive bud skillfully, then kissing and lapping his tongue against it. Your nails dug further into the mattress as your moans became louder, face red and flushed in ultimate ecstasy.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you moan. “Mm—Derek—”
“Mmmm,” he hummed with his lips still at your clit, sending small vibrations to you, causing you to squirm and whine further.
“Fuck,” you pant as you felt closer to the edge and then…
Shit. You let out a soft, desperate whine as Derek slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving a chaste kiss on your skin before pulling away. His lips pressed against several areas of your thighs, then to your folded knee. “You taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, “You turn me on so fucking much, your body turns me on so much, you know that?”
Your bright, satisfied eyes looked up at him in pure submission, nearly begging him to touch you more. And yet, you couldn’t help but think: was he just saying this because you brought it up in the first place? And would he keep touching and tasting you longer if you were prettier? Would he touch you even more and thoughtfully if you had the body of a goddess? A siren? A woman? Ultimately, it all came down to this:
would he love you more than he did if you weren’t trans?
Derek witnessed you spacing out again in your thoughts, cupping your face gently and shushing you. “Hey,” he whispers, kissing at your neck and your face. “You’re all I ever want. Nothing’s gonna change that.” He reached down to kiss at the healed scarring on your chest again, making you shiver.
“God, look how fucking hard I am,” he cooed, urging you to see his throbbing length, “just by looking at how damn sexy you are…” His cock was completely hard, precum leaking slightly at the tip as you admired him intensely. His body had always been so beautiful and attractive to you, that you felt your own core heat up.
Derek kissed your lips briefly, deepening it while he grabbed under your thighs, lifting you up so he could sit against the bed frame with you straddling him. “That’s it, baby, I’ve got you,” he reassures gruffly, gripping tightly onto your hips. “I’ve got you.” As you hover over his lap, holding yourself up by your knees, Derek removes one hand from your hip, gripping onto his thick cock, stroking your wet folds with its head, teasing your entrance.
“Ah-Ahh,” you sigh softly in pleasure, mind beginning to become fuzzy as you succumb to the feeling of his dick slowly rubbing your pussy. Your head hung low as your hands held onto his shoulders, nails slightly digging into his skin.
He lined up his cock with your slick entrance, pushing you down onto him, stretching your walls with his thick girth. And suddenly, you could feel all your worries and insecurities dissipate into something so much more meaningless, as microscopic as a particle of glitter—except they weren't as pretty. But this allowed you to completely enjoy every feeling, every sensation guiltlessly.
“Ahhh, fuuuuck,” you whine, “fuck, Derek… sh-shit—”
Derek’s grasp on your hips remained as he lasciviously slammed them up and down his cock, grunting and moaning softly.
“Oh, fuck…” Derek’s lips parted gorgeously as he let out pleasured groans. His eyes were half-lidded, looking at you as if you were prey, yet simultaneously overwhelmed by a haze of arousal. He not only got off by the tightness of your pussy around him, but also from your beautifully rhythmic moans. You panted and whimpered loudly in such a gratifyingly repetitive manner that it was practically a dirty symphony to Derek’s ears. Paired with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin, it was as if it were the only orchestral piece that he could stand.
Derek slightly jerked his hips up into yours each time he slammed yours down on his, making your cries louder and more desperate. He then moved his hands to your ass, squeezing the flesh selfishly as he controls your movements against him, sneaking a small smack against a cheek.
“So sexy, you’re so fucking sexy, baby,” he pants heavily, grabbing the side of your face with one hand to kiss your lips deeply, shoving his tongue past your lips to taste you. “I’m so… fucking lucky to have you…” he mutters in between kisses until he finally pulls away with a short string of saliva connecting one another’s lips, breaking it with a quick peck from Derek.
Suddenly, he changes the position by pushing you down, your back now flat against the mattress as he hovered over you. His legs were spread apart, his hips still lined up with yours as your ankles were above the back of his thighs. Placing his palms on the mattress while your knees were raised, his arms, against the back of your knees, trapped each leg in that open and spread out position. Penetrating you again, the two of you let out a loud, soft moan in unison.
“Fuck!” Derek hisses from immense pleasure as he began to move again, at a much faster pace than before. You choke out high-pitched sounds as you feel his cock constantly thrusting in and out of your fleshy walls with every wet slap. The bed creaked and rocked violently with every movement that came from Derek. He relentlessly stretched you open and buried himself even deeper inside of you, ensuring that he strokes his pelvis against your clit with every thrust, the closeness between your bodies creating an even more intimate atmosphere.
“Oh, fuck!” You cried softly, lips parted as you felt so much throbbing pleasure against your heat.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty… Tell me that you’re pretty, baby, can you do that for me?” He inquired in a hot, low mutter.
Your thoughts froze at the request. “I—But I’m—”
He thrusts even deeper inside of you, making you moan louder. “C’mon, baby. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon. C’mon, tell me you’re pretty. Say it.”
“I—” You looked up into his eyes with desperation. “I’m pretty.”
“That’s my good baby… Now tell me that you’re beautiful…”
“I—” you stammer, “I’m… beautiful.”
“Again.”
“I’m beautiful.”
“Again.”
His cock pounded deeply and harder into your walls, making you cry in complete pleasure. “I-I’m beautiful.”
Your hands reached up towards the back of his neck, bringing his face down to press his forehead against yours, staring deeply into each other’s eyes while gasps and moans escaped the two of your lips.
“Tell me you belong to me. That you’re mine only,” he commands vigorously.
“I-I’m yours,” you whimper loudly.
“Damn right, you’re mine,” he huffs breathlessly, almost in a lustful slur, “all fuckin’ mine…” Derek smashes his lips against yours in a fiery and passionate kiss, burying his face in your neck to add more dark hickeys than you’d already had. Your hands go to his hair, holding his head as you tangle your fingers in his curls, lightly tugging as you feel your body begin to clench around his dick.
Your moans become more desperate as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, whining to yourself from how ecstatic this all felt. The raunchy silhouette of Derek’s body rocking lustfully against yours was truthfully a beautiful sight.
“I—I’m close!” You whimper out, your panting speeding up. “I’m so close, I—I’m gonna cum—!”
“Fuuck,” Derek grunts, “Cum for me baby, fuck, c’mon.” He sped up his pace, making your vision blur as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pure ecstasy. And finally, with one more deep, fast thrust, your body tensed up completely, a loud whine escaping your mouth as you came, your pussy clenching deliciously around him.
Your orgasm instantly drove Derek to the edge, groaning as he came deep inside of you, shoots of his warm white cum decorating your walls and filling you up. He stays like this for a while, collapsing on your body as his face is buried in your neck. The two of you were panting heavily, struggling to catch your breaths from the intense climax. Derek began peppering kisses on your neck once more, going over the old hickeys that formed several moments ago.
“I love you so fucking much, okay, baby? I wouldn’t—I’d never leave you,” he mutters, making your heart full. “You could never, ever deprive me, baby, you’re everything I could ever want. Your body is so damn beautiful, you’re so fucking perfect…”
Derek kissed your lips deeply once again, spilling all his authentic admiration and love for you. He would rather perish by suffocation from kissing your lips as much as he could, if it meant that even a sliver of you would be convinced that he loved you for who you were. And who you were in his eyes was utter perfection.
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axelsagewrites · 1 year
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Robb Stark*NSFW Alphabet
Warnings: talks of sex, kinks etc
Word count: 1441
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Masterlist Here
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He really wants to hold you after sex. He’s always a bit scared he went to far so he just wants to wrap you in his arms and make sure you’re alright. This results in many head kisses and if you ask a massage or foot rub. Pretty much whatever you want you can get if it will help your body feel better after some of the…interesting positions you were in.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He loves your hips. He wants to grab them, dig his fingers into them, turn you around by them. He’s obsessed with the way you move them. He also loves your mouth. Not just because how it feels when its wrapped around his cock but also he loves to trace it with his fingers.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Robb prefers to cum inside of you but also loves to mix it up sometimes when he sees it covering your face.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Robb is a freak in the sheets. In public he is a very affectionate man, hugs, kisses, hand holding. Everything. Everyone praises how he treats you like a queen. However in the bedroom he is one of the kinkiest people you have met.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s defiantly not a virgin but he hasn’t slept with so many people. He knows what he’s doing though because once he found someone he trusts, aka you, he wanted to explore all his fantasies and you were happy to oblige. He’s also a communication king so after its all done and you feel good he will ask you about what you liked and keep it noted for next time.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Robb leans towards doggy style but will also fuck you in any position he can. However he also adores being in between your legs and getting you off with his tongue. Robb also likes when youre kneeling in front of him. It just turns him on to see you submissive.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Majority of the time he is more serious in bed but he is still up for some casual giggly sex especially in the morning or after a long day. Sometimes he likes the casual vibes of it all
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Robb prefers to keep himself pretty well trimmed. He doesn’t care how his partner keeps themselves as long as everything is clean but prefers how his cock looks when its trimmed back.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Robb admits he can sometimes forget about the romantic side of sex. He does try and it does still happen. Your wedding night was a very passionate romantic one for example. Its just when robb thinks of sex he doesn’t think so much about flowers than fucking you with his tongue.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He will use his hand if his partner isn’t in the mood but he much prefers the real thing. He will however be thinking of you the whole time (modern Robb would love if you let him keep a couple of your nudes for such occasions). He also finds the idea of you masturbating weirdly hot and if he catches you doing it he’ll get himself off to the sight.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
You cannot tell me he does not have a breeding kink. He also defiantly loves to be called ‘my king’ (or ‘Sir’ in a modern au). He likes to be dominant with a more submissive sub. The control aspect gets him off. If youre okay with it he also likes to praise and degrade. Phrases like ‘pretty little slut’ and’ such a good little whore for me’ are used a lot. He also just loves to praise you in general though as he tells you how good you are and how good you feel.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Robb will rush you off to your chambers or tent to fuck you but rarely if ever will he do it outside of the bedroom. He’s adventurious in many ways but he defeintly does not want to get caught
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Teasing gets him. If you tease him outside of the bedroom or wear a particularly low cut outfit he will not be long away from dragging you away to fuck you. Robb can get a bit jealous, even possessive, at times which will result in him practically dragging you away. he also gets turned on by your mouth. Robb will find himself staring at your lips as the perfectly wrap around your food or graze your cup. The sight of your lips is sometimes all it takes to get him going.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Robb wouldn’t do it somewhere where he could get caught or want to have anyone watching. He’s open to try majority of kinks but he wants that to remain private.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves to receive it but he is desperate to give it. robb loves to watch you cum from his tongue, its like a internal brag to himself. He loves the way your body tesnes when your close and it’s a good way to be able to feel your legs clamping.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Its normally fast and rough with Robb but sometimes he’ll surprise you by going painfully slow if you’ve teased him too far
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Not his favourite thing in the world but if he’s horny and on a time limit he wont say no
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.)
He’s willing to take risks but will spend a solid week researching before actually doing anything out of fear of hurting you
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
The young wolf can go until the sun sets then rises the next day. Sex seems to give robb even more energy. Even the times he doesn’t last as long he wont be soon off getting hard again or using his mouth on you instead.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Modern Robb would have things like handcuffs and maybe blindfolds but not any vibrators or that. However if you brought one over he would soon come to love it when he relaised he could tease you with it.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He loves a bit of teasing but rarely has the patients to do it for very long
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Robb will grunt and groan during sex but isn’t that loud. However he takes it as a personal challenge to make sure his partner is
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Robb didn’t notice it at first but when you would be making out you would either be grinding into his thigh or crotch however once he did notice he began to have you sit on his thigh and ride it as you made out. He used it as a perfect opportunity for his hands to explore your body and to leave dark hickeys on your collarbones.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He’s defeintly well sized. He’s pretty long but kinda thick as well. It can be a bit intimidating at time so Robb makes sure to at least start gentle and always prepare you first with his fingers or mouth.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Its pretty high. If he could you would be fucking every morning and night but he’s not obsessed with sex to the point this is a must.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
For a moment after he cums robb will feel tired but a switch suddenly snaps and he’s energized again. It wakes him up more than it puts him to sleep
Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy
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kiss-theggoat · 1 year
Note
Can we have the after math of finding out it’s Billy? I’m fricken hooked on your writing.
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A/N: You’re so sweet I’m flustered🥹 I’m in love with Billy Loomis so ask and you shall receive! This one’s a little short but I wasn’t too sure what direction to take it. Please leave more requests, I love them!
Familiar Pt. 2
Billy Loomis x F!Reader
Word Count: 800
Summary: Billy knows he has to kill you. He just can’t bring himself to do it.
TW: Thoughts of violence, suggestive, Billy is a murderer, Knives and Blood
Billy watched your face go from ecstasy to pure shock, horror, disbelief. You lay on your bed, vulnerable and spread for him, willingly giving your body to a serial killer, eyes wide and lips trembling as you whisper his name.
“…B-Billy?” You stuttered out, pretty cheeks turning a deeper shade of red, if that was even possible. A slap echoed throughout the room because of how hard you slapped your legs together, sitting up and covering your body completely, shaky hands searching for clothes or a blanket to cover yourself with. Billy was amused by this.
“You’re okay with fucking a faceless stranger but not a friend?” He teased, lips still flush and slick from your past activity. Your heart was beating a million miles an hour, stomach doing backflips. Billy was who you’d been sleeping with all this time? You felt betrayed, but at the same time you thought it was the hottest thing ever that he had been keeping it a secret. On the other hand…this meant that your best friend, your Billy, was a killer.
“I…I don’t…” words wouldn’t form. Your brain was moving way too fast for your mouth.
With a sneaky hand he reached down to his black boot, yanking the Bowie knife from its side. “Thought I told you to keep your eyes shut, pretty girl.”
Hearing his voice instead of the modulator made your heart flutter. You’d yearned for years for Billy to call you his, be able to kiss him, hang on his arm during lunch like Sydney did. You found it hard to be scared of the knife in a moment like this, your feelings for Billy blocking your fear.
“I’m sorry Billy, I…you sounded so familiar I-I…I just needed to see you.”
Billy froze. Usually, killing people was no big deal for him. Slice and dice, go home, maybe get a snack and watch a movie, go to bed. He stood still, knife pointed towards you threateningly, but as he stared into your puppy dog eyes and heard you say his name so sweetly, he was reminded of why he kept coming to see you.
You were his escape from everything. The plan. Pretending to be in love with Sydney was exhausting, he hated her. She looked just like her mother, and he couldn’t wait to kill her, but you. He liked spending time with you, and the fact that you willingly slept with Ghostface, not knowing it was him, could make him cum on the spot.
You were just as fucked up as he was.
He stepped forward, pressing the knife gently against your cheek and pushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear with it. “Such a shame.” He said softly, trying to hype himself up somehow. Convince himself to get rid of you, like he knew he had to.
You didn’t know where to look. You stayed still, frozen, scared that any move would cost you your life. Finally, you stared up at him. “Please. I’m not going to tell anyone.” You whispered, hand creeping up towards Billy’s.
He didn’t move. He let you touch his hand, gently grasping his wrist. You didn’t push the knife away from his face like he expected, instead, you held it still and pushed your cheek into it slightly. A bead of blood welled at the surface of your skin, trailing warmth down your face. Before the blood could reach your jawline, Billy lowered the knife in shock.
He could trust you. He knew he could. Stu would be pissed off. Should he tell you that Stu’s in on it too? Maybe not yet.
He dropped the knife onto the bed, watching it bounce off your plush comforter, making him think about everyone who’s died at its blade. “I believe you. But I’m gonna need some collateral.” He said, a mischievous smirk on his face.
You were confused, eyebrows furrowed and head shaking slightly. “What do you mean?” Your voice was still timid. Billy’s large hand moved past you, grabbing the knife again and with the other hand, he grabbed yours. The handle of his knife was cold, haunting in your innocent hand.
“Stu’s party on Friday.” He said, stroking the dull side of the blade as it sat heavy in your palm. “You…help me.”
Your stomach dropped in horror. He wanted you to kill someone. “Who?” You asked, wide eyes staring at the shining steel. He grinned his perfect grin at you, enticing you with his good looks that you’d admired for years.
“Tatum.”
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5, 14, 15, 17
More outsiders asks? Heck yeah!
5. What are your favourite ships?
a) Curly Shepard x Ponyboy Curtis- idk why other than the fact that fanon Curly seems to balance out Ponyboy perfectly, and that I read a Curly fit on ffn when I was like fifteen that fundamentally changed my brain chemistry
b) Steve Randle x Sodapop Curtis- I don’t like any other within gang ship but Soda and Steve make sense to me and ngl my closeted ass clocked them as gay when I was reading the book because of the ‘pillow fight’ scene. I genuinely answered a comprehension question in class like ‘Ponyboy’s naïveté is shown through the fact he believes soda never drinks and that Soda and Steve were having a pillow fight when they slept together’ and my teacher had to be like oh sweetie no….
c) Marcia x Two-bit Matthews- Not a HUGE fan but they had such chemistry and I wish that could’ve been explored. I’m actually working on a fit about them rn, just because I wanna explore Marcia’s psyche. She was fun :)
14. Five headcanons I basically see as canon
a) Steve is secretly SUPER protective of Ponyboy, partially because he knows Sodapop would never be ok if something ever happened to Pony and he couldn’t stand it if Soda’s spark ever went out, but also because he wants Ponyboy to have the happy childhood he never had.
b) Darry absolutely dotes on Ponyboy, even though he’s strict, he’s lenient about letting Pony go places and works overtime to make sure he can afford to get Ponyboy everything he needs (and some stuff he simply wants), especially after Windrixville.
c) Johnny Cade is scary looking. Full stop. The gang just doesn’t see him that way so it doesn’t show in Ponyboy’s narration
d) Dallas Winston had a good mom and a happy childhood and her death was the catalyst that made him into the hoodlum he was.
e) Sodapop Curtis absolutely drinks, Ponyboy just doesn’t believe he does and Soda is not anxious to correct him because he doesn’t want Ponyboy to see him differently
15. Five headcanons that are entirely self-indulgent
a) Angela Shepard and Curly Shepard have to share a room because Tim refuses to share with anyone. Neither of them actually hates it half as much as they pretend they do.
b) Part of why Curly and Ponyboy became close was because Ponyboy was struggling with getting over his concussion, and the side effects were really stressful for him (dizzy spells, blurry vision, absentmindedness) and Curly kinda helped him with it because Curly spent 90% of his childhood concussed so he knew what Pony was going through
c) Tim Shepard and Sylvia are best friends and would kill for each other but not die for each other. However, they would avenge each other’s deaths.
d) Steve Randle wishes more than anything in the world that Darry Curtis was actually his irl older brother 
e) Two-bit’s little sister HATES Ponyboy Curtis because her older brother spends more time playing older brother to him than he spends actually being an older brother to her.
17. Are there any criticisms or salt you have with the book?
My criticisms with the book lie with the author. SE Hinton has proven to be homophobic and racist, and its written into the book, which is my biggest issue. I love the story of The Outsiders but do not want to support Hinton or her harmful, bigoted ideology under any circumstances. (For anyone out there who wants a copy of the book but doesn’t want to support Hinton, you can find a free pdf online, all you gotta do is google it)
On a slightly lighter note, I would have loved to have seen more of the female characters in the book. Marcia in particular had so much potential, and I wish we’d seen one actual scene with Sandy or Sylvia.
Thanks for the ask!!!!!
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nvuy · 5 days
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how do u feel ab yandere necromancer jiaoqiu .......... like idk how to explain it since hes a healer in canon it just makes sense to me even though necromancy is basically the opposite of healing or whatever LIKE ITS NOT A CONCRETE IDEA BUT ITS THERE also since necromancy is like the highest form of love ehehheehheheheeh can u see my vision idk ...........
ok so u sent this a while ago & i did NOT know what to say because this idea is so so so so so based but i just genuinely did not know how to hop on the jiaoqiu necromancer train but i have two cents
2.5 spoilers under cut , necromancy, death. because. necromancy, jiaoqiu kills you Because necromancy, animal death but again, necromancy, yandere themes if you squint, and another instance of What zero pussy does to a mf
so it basically goes:
a ) you’re one of jiaoqiu’s valued patients, and you’ve had an illness that has been steadily getting worse. it’s grown to the point where doctor jiaoqiu can’t figure out how to cure it, and though he tries his best, all he’s doing is delaying the inevitable.
b ) in his fit of rage and panic, jiaoqiu accidentally kills a small invading animal in his home, or the clinic he works. maybe a rat, and he freaks out because doctors are supposed to give lives, not take them. so, he drinks to exhaustion, and guilt, and in the process, he loses his taste.
c ) he freaks out over his tongue not working, and amidst his panic, the rat has come back to life. by some miracle. he realises after a while, as long as his taste doesn’t return, the rat will live.
d ) i think you know where this is going .
e ) jiaoqiu comes to your side when you’re on the brink of death and tells you he can kill you and bring you back. “it’ll work,” he insists. it looks like he hasn’t slept in years. “it has to.”
you tell him it sounds like insanity.
“it is,” he says. he holds your hands tight. “but it will work.”
f ) so, he poisons you, and ends the first part of your miserable life. then, he poisons himself and almost dies on top of you. but, you return minutes later, alive and healthy, at the expense of him losing his vision.
but what does it matter? at the end of the day, you now owe him everything, and you’d never leave this poor, blind and old foxian all on his lonesome, would you?
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syddsatyrn · 8 months
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Chapter 1⛤Chapter 2 ⛤ Chapter 3 ⛤Chapter 4 ⛤ Chapter 5 Masterlist
⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x FemReader
⛤Warnings: Swearing, drinking / smoking, drugs, fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, a little angst if you squint.
⛤Words: 2.7k
⛤Song: "Photograph" By Def Leppard
⛤Summary: Moving away from Hawkins was the biggest mistake of your life. You left your best friends and forgot to stay in touch. Years later, you decide to hit up your good friend Steve. Its time to make a plan and make amends. The one thing you didn't expect was feelings to resurface when you saw your old high school crush.
⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. I've got a super extra long chapter for you guys today! @hellfiremunsonn is my faithful beta reader and assists me so much. Thank you guys for making my come-back series a fun one. My next chapter will be the end of this series.
⛤Chapter: 4 "Subtle" Chemistry Star court mall is always at least a little crowded. The lively hum of conversations, laughter, and distant music formed a vibrant backdrop. Storefronts beckoned with their displays of trendy fashion, electronics, and enticing sales. Shoppers meandered through the wide walkways, their bags filled with many treasures. Neon signs buzzing, the occasional sounds of a cash register, and the scent of cinnamon drifting through the air. It was just like you remembered it. You had a blast hanging out with Robin. She picked out a brand new pair of ankle length combat boots. You both decided to get ice cream and take a break from walking around. The food court wasn’t super crowded, it was the perfect place to chat. “Can I tell you something? It’s a secret so dont go telling Steve.” “Ohhhh is it secret time?” I won't tell Stevie boy, I promise.” Robin raises her right hand, “Scouts honor.” “Okay. Uhhh…well…I slept in Eddie’s bed last night. He came home from tour in the middle of the night.” Your face turns redder with every word. “Oh shit. Wow Y/N, I didn't think you had it in yah.” She chuckles and puts another spoonful of strawberry ice cream in her mouth. “We didn't do anything!” You affirm your tone a little on the defensive side. “What!? I’m just saying you guys have been madly in love with each other since sophomore year and neither of you have had the audacity to tell each other for some unspoken reason…until now.” She's not wrong, Robin has always been one to spell it out for you loud and clear. She never holds back, it's something you’ve always appreciated about her. Robin has been telling you to come clean for ages now.
“Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I don't want to screw up my friendship with Eddie. Also, he's like a big rockstar now, I doubt he has any time for stuff like that.” You explain as you sink into your chair. "He probably has some cool metalhead girlfriend I don't know about.” You take a bite of your vanilla ice cream. It's so fitting for this conversation, vanilla ice cream for a vanilla person.
“God it's been years and I still can’t wrap my head around your stupid self doubt.” Robin says, shaking her head. “Eddie doesn't have a girlfriend. When you left he moped around his trailer for weeks. No one could get him to come out, not even Dustin. One time I went over to his place to check on him and he was sloshed out of his mind. He told me, "The songs he sings don't mean a thing if you’re not there to hear it.”
“He didn't say that.” You scoff.
“Oh but he did, and he keeps a photo of you in his wallet.” Robin says teasingly.
“You know about that too?!” It's becoming apparent that everyone knows this except you.
“Of course I do. It's me, I know everything.” Robin says with a cocky tone.
You and Robin decide to float around the mall a little longer. A small department store was calling your name. The story had low lighting and they were playing some classic rock on the radio. Robin's goal was a pair of shoes, your goal however, was a hot outfit for tonight's party at the hideout. It honestly didn't take you long to find the cutest black skirt with chain embellishments, you picked out some new stockings too. —-------------- After the girls left Eddie felt like he could finally breathe. He finishes his coffee and breakfast, then falls backwards onto his bed. He stares at his ceiling as he finds himself lost in the intricate dance of thoughts that revolve around you. Images of you smiling genuine and heartwarming, flashed like snapshots in his imagination. Casual conversations, stolen glances, and the subtle chemistry that lingered in the air when you were near. The anticipation of his next encounter with you and the sweet nervousness that comes with it. The soft glow of the afternoon sun is casting a warm hue across his room. Steve and Dustin went grocery shopping, the apartment was silent. Eddie pulls himself out of his thoughts and shakes them off. He grabs a pre-rolled joint and lights it, Eddie is nervous and he knows it. All these years and he still can't tell you the truth. His life has changed so drastically for the better ever since he signed that record deal. But there was always something missing, something he was holding out for. Of course many girls are interested in him, but he's not interested in many girls. He promised himself after you left that next time he sees you, he is gonna tell you. If he misses this opportunity, he might lose you entirely. He almost completely gave up on you after a year of no contact. But every time he opened his wallet, he saw a glimpse of your face, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of you or the photo. Eddie puffs on his joint, each inhale making him a little less anxious. He tries to think about something else. It will be nice to hang out at the hideout again. That was where he played his very first gigs when the band was just starting out. They barely had any attendees and the band definitely sounded rough. Then Eddie recalls you being there for every single show. Your smiling face in the crowd, cheering him on after every song.  “Uhgg, get it together, man.” He says under his breath. He finishes his joint and decides to get dressed. —--------------- When you returned with Robin, Steve was putting away the last of the groceries. “We’re back!” Robin announces. Dustin is reading on the couch, when you look down the hall, Eddie’s bedroom door is open. “Welcome back, we will head to the bar when I finish this. I also need to get dressed. Eddie is out, said something about dropping off some equipment with Gareth. He’s gonna meet us there.” Steve says. Honestly, you were a little bummed. You were hoping he’d be around when you got back. But you shrug it off and take your stuff to his room. Robin follows you and shuts the door behind her. You both change into something a bit more stylish. You had a cropped Def Leppard shirt that you paired with the new skirt. This outfit would go well with boots and stockings. Robin didn't change anything really, just her shirt and shoes. You put on a couple of layered chain necklaces, a few rings, and a pair of small silver hoop earrings. “I am astonished really.” Robin says with a smile as she looks you up and down. You tilt your head in response and she laughs. “Eddie is gonna have a full on heart attack when he sees you.” Your face feels a little hot and you laugh nervously. “Do you think so?” “Oh yeah. No doubt.” She smirks. “Someones lookin’ to get lucky.” “Shut up!” You place your hand over her mouth. She does the unthinkable licks the palm of your hand. You give her this horrified face followed by both of you hysterically laughing like a couple of hyenas.  ---------------
The sun was setting and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. There is a chill in the air, which makes you shiver when you open the door. Steve drove to the hideout, it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. When Steve pulled into the parking lot, you looked out the window and saw Eddie’s van. He’s already here, and you start to feel a bit anxious. The Hideout had not changed a bit. The neon signs in the window buzzed as you walked inside. Posters, fliers, and rustic decor filled the walls. You hear the low hum of chatter and the clinking of glasses, the place has a warm glow to it. You used to watch Eddie play here all the time. It felt like your heart was swelling, it's that bittersweet feeling again. You turn the corner and see Eddie and Gareth sitting in a booth. Eddie waves and one by one you all walk over and pile into the same booth. You sit across from Eddie, you can see his face getting a little red. “You uh…look really good, Y/N.” Eddie says with a half smile. He reaches over and adjusts one of your chain necklaces. Robin sees this and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh at how embarrassed you are. But you had to pull all that on hold for now. Nancy and Johnathan walk up and greet the group. You practically climb over Robin and wrap Nancy in a tight hug. “Oh! Y/N? You’re here?! When did you get into town?!” She hugs you back just as hard. “The other day! It's so good to see you, Nance.” Nancy smiles and fights back tears, she didn't expect any kind of reunion. The thing is, You both grew up together. Your mom was friends with Mrs. Wheeler. You spent a lot of your childhood with Nancy and her brother Mike. When you left, Nancy thought she lost you to the city for good.  “Don’t cry! I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” “They are happy tears, it’s fine. I’m just so happy to see you.” Everyone in the group is touched to see two best friends reunite. Robin looks like she might start crying too. You give Jonathan a hug as well, It's nice to see him doing well. He wasn't always full of smiles and you’ve wondered how he's been over the years. You remember Jonathan used to take photos of the gang, half of the polaroids you have were probably taken by him. A bartender comes by and takes our order. Eddie ordered whiskey and so did you. Vodka soda for Nancy and Robin, Steve and Jonathan order beers. The clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, and the subtle hum of the other patrons deep in conversation created a soundtrack to this shared experience. You updated your friends on your new life, and once again apologized for being an awful friend. Everyone was so happy to see you that it didn't matter anymore.  “You better not leave and go back to ignoring us.” Robin says. --------------------
The sun was setting and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. There is a chill in the air, which makes you shiver when you open the door. Steve drove to the hideout, it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. When Steve pulled into the parking lot, you looked out the window and saw Eddie’s van. He’s already here, and you start to feel a bit anxious. The Hideout had not changed a bit. The neon signs in the window buzzed as you walked inside. Posters, fliers, and rustic decor filled the walls. You hear the low hum of chatter and the clinking of glasses, the place has a warm glow to it. You used to watch Eddie play here all the time. It felt like your heart was swelling, it's that bittersweet feeling again. You turn the corner and see Eddie and Gareth sitting in a booth. Eddie waves and one by one you all walk over and pile into the same booth. You sit across from Eddie, you can see his face getting a little red. “You uh…look really good, Y/N.” Eddie says with a half smile. He reaches over and adjusts one of your chain necklaces. Robin sees this and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh at how embarrassed you are. But you had to pull all that on hold for now. Nancy and Johnathan walk up and greet the group. You practically climb over Robin and wrap Nancy in a tight hug. “Oh! Y/N? You’re here?! When did you get into town?!” She asks and hugs you back just as hard. “The other day! It's so good to see you, Nance.” Nancy smiles and fights back tears, she didn't expect any kind of reunion. The thing is, You both grew up together. Your mom was friends with Mrs. Wheeler. You spent a lot of your childhood with Nancy and her brother Mike. When you left, Nancy thought she lost you to the city for good.  “Don’t cry! I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” “They are happy tears, it’s fine. I’m just so happy to see you.” Nancy says between sobs. Everyone in the group is touched to see two best friends reunite. Robin looks like she might start crying too. You give Jonathan a hug as well, It's nice to see him doing well. He wasn't always full of smiles and you’ve wondered how he's been over the years. You remember Jonathan used to take photos of the gang, half of the polaroids you have were probably taken by him. A bartender comes by and takes our order. Eddie ordered whiskey and so did you. Vodka soda for Nancy and Robin, Steve and Jonathan order beers. The clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, and the subtle hum of the other patrons deep in conversation created a soundtrack to this shared experience. You updated your friends on your new life, and once again apologized for being an awful friend. Everyone was so happy to see you that it didn't matter anymore.  “You better not leave and go back to ignoring us.” Robin says.
“I wouldn’t even dream of it.” You reply.Hours slipped away unnoticed as the night unfolded, a mosaic of laughter, camaraderie, and the shared appreciation of the moment. Eddie could help but sneak glances at you, it was hard not to. He’s been trying to keep his cool all night, he had several shots of whiskey to build up some liquid courage. The world outside the café window dimmed as everyone delved into stories and life updates.
Eddie hands you his pack of cigarettes, silently asking if you’d like to go outside with him. You take one and place it between your lips. You and Eddie excuse yourselves from the group and head outside, the cold air sent a shiver up your spine.
“Brr! I forgot how cold it is when the sun goes down. I should have brought a coat.” You offhandedly say as Eddie lights your cigarette for you. Eddie removes his leather jacket, leaving him with a thick black hoodie. He drapes it around your shoulders and you are immediately much more comfortable. Your face gets a little red, he’s always been such a gentleman. You both lean up against Eddie's van. His thoughts are a symphony of emotions, dancing between hope and uncertainty. The evening was filled with a serene ambiance, and even in the quiet moments, you still felt comfort in his presence. “Y/N…” Eddie finally pipes up. “Yeah?” “I think we should talk. Y’know…about where we stand with each other.” Eddie admits. Your eyes widen, this is finally happening. The anxiety sets in and you try to swallow your nerves. Eddie stands in front of you, looking at his feet. “Do you remember, right before you left, that time we got high in my van next to lovers lake?” “Yeah. I do.” You answer quietly. “Do you remember me telling you that no one could ever replace you in my life?” He asks and you nod. You remember it like it was yesterday. It was a sunny day, the light glistening along the top of the water. You and Eddie passed a joint back and forth. You gave him a small wallet sized photo from picture day. “I still have that photo, I keep it in my wallet. You told me to keep it as a reminder, so I don't forget you. The thing is, meeting you was like finding my favorite song in a world full of noise, and I can't stop hitting replay no matter how many times I hear it.” Eddie takes a deep breath. It's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. You were stunned, absolutely speechless. In that moment, the unspoken became words, there was no going back now. Eddie moves a few inches closer, pinning you between himself and van. Under the glow from a nearby streetlamp, the air was charged with tension. You met his gaze with a gentle smile. Without another word, Eddie cupped your face in his hands. Time seemed to slow down as Eddie leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. You kiss him back, It spoke volumes with no words at all. Eddie presses his body against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer. You can't stop shaking, your nerves combined with the cold air made it impossible to be completely still. Eddie finally breaks away from you and opens the back doors to his van. “Hop in, you’re freezing to death.” Eddie says, you take his hand as he helps you into the van then he climbs in after you and shuts the door. You take a seat on an upside down milk crate while Eddie starts the car and cranks the heat. You still can't believe what just happened, you’ve only ever dreamed of this moment. Eddie grabs his acoustic guitar and sits on top of a large amp. He took a deep breath, fingers gently caressing the strings of the guitar, and he started to strum. “I feel so stupid for leaving you alone out here.” You say while looking down at your hands. “If anyone deserves an apology it’s you. I just assumed you moved on and didn’t need any reminders.” “Don’t worry your pretty little head, I forgive you.” He chuckles. “Besides, they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?” You recognize the tune he's playing, you’ve heard it before. “What song is this?” You ask, it's so familiar. “Photograph by Def Leppard.” He answers with a half smile and you smile back at him, your eyes widen as you recall the lyrics. He played this song for you before, but you ant remember how long ago. 
“Y’know, I still haven't figured out how to sit across from you and not be madly in love with everything you do.” You reply, hearing him play was actually really calming, you’ve missed this side of him. The guitar became an extension of his feelings, his voice carrying a sweetness to it, like warm honey. ♫“I see your face every time I dream
On every page, every magazine
So wild and free,
So far from me
You're all I want, my fantasy
Oh, look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown
Oh-oh, look what you've done
Photograph~
I don't want your photograph
I don't need your photograph
All I've got is a photograph
But it's not enough”♫ As the last chord resonated. Eddie sets the guitar against the wall of the van. You spring into his arms, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You bury your face in his shoulder, you didn't expect to get so emotional. You’re so happy but you still feel so guilty, you question why anyone would leave this feeling behind.
Eddie pulls you into his lap. “Are you crying?! Oh shit, no don’t cry…”Eddie squeezes you a little tighter. “Shhh…it's okay, sweetheart.”
You took a deep breath, “I love you, Eddie.” The words spilled out.  “I love you too. I’ve always loved you.” Eddie says, when you look back at him he smiles and brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “Do you want to go back to mine?” He asks, it's like he read your mind. You nod in response and Eddie chuckles. “Let's get out of here.”
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i know you've already done a couple period fics. but would you be open to doing a period fic, while reader has a cold or stomach bug?
currently i have both- while also being on my period-
so we love the passing out while standing, fever showers, throwing up AND bloody sheets. great combo-
Periods plus puking
Pairings: Wandanat x R
Word count: 1.9K
Summary: your period and the stomach flu. Could life get any worse?
TW: fever, Flu, non-sexual nudity, period, blood, slight angst, vomit, fainting
A/n I think I covered everything you wanted plus I threw in a few more. :) hope you like it.
When you woke up with a wetness between your legs and the sheets felt damp you almost cried. You had been awake half the night with your head in the toilet. A mix of a stomach bug and your period the cramps were unending. Your girlfriends were out on a mission and were suppose to be home early this morning but they must have slept elsewhere so they didn’t wake you. Jokes on them you had barely slept.
It was two am when you finally shut your eyes and your body seemed to take over and sleep.
It took all the strength you had to pull back the sheet and get up. Feeling the uncomfortable ache or nausea return you knew you had mere seconds before you were sick again. On shaky legs you pulled yourself along by the wall. Falling to your knees as you gagged and retched. More stringy puke came up and the sour smell assaulted your senses. Tears welled in your eyes before slipping down your cheeks. You choked back a sob and ducked your head again to be sick. After you felt the urge pass you didn’t have the energy to flush so you simply starfishes on the cool tiled floor. The room seemed both too hot and too cold somehow. Your blood soaked Pj shorts would have to wait until the rooms stopped spinning to be dealt with.
So here you were, laid on the bathroom floor, life couldn’t seem to get any worse. You closed your eyes and sighed. Hoping they would be back soon.
Wanda had made breakfast, they wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed when they returned, as a sorry for being pulled away last minute for a mission. Wanda had just kicked open your bedroom door with Nat following close behind when she almost dropped the plates. A huge bloodstain marked the crisp blue sheets and she stifled a gasp. She immediately felt bad she hadn’t been there to help you out on your period. Looking around she saw the light on in the bathroom and set down the food on the bedside table.
“I’ll get started on the sheets.” Nat frowned.
“Don’t worry about it.” Wanda waved her hands and the sheets were fresh and clean again.
“Neat trick.” Nat grinned
“Comes in handy from time to time.” She smiled
“Let’s go find our girl.” Nat shot back
“Y/n/n?” Wanda called, knocking on the closed door. When all she heard was a groan in response she tried the handle, frowning it was open. Carefully she stepped into the bathroom.
A hand came to her mouth at the sight of you soaked from the waist down in blood and laid on the floor. Your cheeks were flushed and she saw puke in the toilet. Carefully she came and sat by your side.
“Oh love. Why didn’t you call us baby.” She cooed, running a hand through your hair.
Nat walked in and frowned. Walking over to the toilet she grimaced and flushed the evidence of your earlier activities.
“Baby you feel a bit warm, can I check your temperature love?” Wanda asked placing the back of her hand to your sweaty forehead.
“I’ll get it” nat said and began rummaging in the cupboard.
“Poor baby, you’ve really been through it huh my love. And without natty and i here to help you. Its ok my sweet we’re here now and we’re not going anywhere.” She continued to brush the sweaty hair from your face.
“Got it.” Nat said, coming over to hand Wanda the thermometer.
“Open up my sweetness.” Wanda said tapping your chin with her thumb.
You opened your mouth and Wanda chuckled, slipping the metal under your tongue. Quickly you sat up as the feeling in your mouth brought on another bout of gagging. Wanda quickly removed the thermometer and nat guided your shaking form over the toilet as you were sick again. Wanda drew slow circles on your back with her hand and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Nat held your hair back and neither girl shied away when they heard the sick splash into the bowl.
“Aww baby. Its ok. We’re here. Get it all up.” Wanda cooed, when the feeling passed you flopped against Wanda eyes half closed.
Nat slipped into the room, you hadn’t even noticed her leave, too busy being sick.
“I got this from Bruce. This way we wont have to stick anything in her mouth.” Nat explained handing Wanda the fancy thermometer.
Wanda ran the tip over your forehead and it beeped straight away.
She showed the number to Nat who let out a low whistle. Your hands quickly came to your ears as the noise made the headache worse.
“Sorry love.” Nat said pulling your hands from your ears. “You have a high fever my sweet. I was just worried is all.”
“How high?” You croaked throat raw from being sick. It was the first words you had said to them in days and you sounded like you were half frog.
“Oh love, try not to speak.” Wanda cooed, when the couple words had brought on a harsh fit of coughing which descended into gagging and Wanda held you in her arms over the toilet. Nat pulled your hair into a bun and tied it up with the wristband she always had on her.
You gagged fruitlessly, your body having ejected everything already. Tears burned your eyes and you finally stopped.
“Nothing left.” You coughed pitifully.
“Shh.” Wanda pressed a cold finger to your lips.
“Your fever is 102.9 my love, and you know what that means.” Nat sighed running a hand through her own fiery red locks.
“No shower.” You whined like a toddler.
“Aww bubs it’ll be over soon, plus we need to clean you up down there.” Wanda cooed motioning to your lower half. You had honestly forgotten about your period. Which made itself known once more with another harsh cramp. You whined and curled into a ball in Wanda’s arms which wrapped around you protectively. Her fingers glowing a soft red over your back as she used her magic to force your muscles to relax. You make a choked noise somewhere between a sob and a sigh at the feeling and you relaxed in her arms.
“Do you think your done, can we get you in the shower my sweet.” Nat cooed, crouching down beside Wanda. You nodded weakly and tried to stand. Too fast as your vision swam and dipped and everything went black.
“Y/N!” Nat cried as she grabbed your unconscious form before you could hit your head on the bathtub behind you. She carefully laid you in the recovery position like Bruce had shown her in case you threw up again. Wanda stroked the hair from your flushed cheeks and softly tapped your cheek.
“Y/n/n, sweetness, my love. Come back to us baby girl.” Wanda said softly.
Your eyes fluttered open and Wanda heaved a sigh of relief.
“Aww bubs, stood up too fast. Come let us help you.” Wanda turned on the bath and nat took her position beside you.
“Slowly now.” Nat said as you tried to sit up as you felt a hand on your lower back guide you into a sitting position.
“You body only reacted like that because its been under too much stress lately but it you pass out again I’m taking you to see Bruce. No ifs or buts.” She said firmly but sweetly. Nat put her armed a under you, scooping you up and putting you on the counter. Wanda carefully with the help of her magic to hold you up, took off your shirt, putting your shorts and undies in the sink to be washed later and scooped you up and stepped into the tub. Passing you to Nat she sat down in the cool water. Nat passed you to her. You shivered when your body came into contact with the water, squirming and whining until Wanda’s arms wrapped around you.
“Im gonna go deal with this.” Nat said holding up your bloodied clothes.
“Ok love I’ve got her for now.” Wanda agreed. Your eyes were glazed over as you slipped them shut. Dozing in Wanda’s lap as she used her magic to clean you off and keep your blood from staining the bath water red.
When your temp was lower and she heard soft snores coming from you she relaxed. Slightly. There was still a long way for you to go to get better but it was looking up slightly. She held you still in her arms when your eyes shot open and you sat up quickly. Panicking Wanda summoned a sick bag and thrust it under your chin as you brought up stringy bile. She rubbed your back and whispered in your ear.
“Its ok. Its ok my sweet. Your ok. Im here” she said over and over again until you had stopped.
You simply deflated, exhausted in her arms. Wanda threw away the sickbag and carefully stood with you in her arms shushing you as you whined. Using her magic she dressed you after drying you off and avoiding getting blood on the towel. She made sure there was a pad in your undies for you as she slipped them onto your hips. All your weight was lent against her as you stood with the help of her magic. After you were both dressed Wanda scooped you up again and carried you into the bedroom. Depositing you carefully on the bed she pulled up the sheets and slipped in beside you. Running a hand through your hair she took your temperature again the lower number giving her hope. She summoned a sickbag and put it on the bedside incase you were sick again and she wasn’t awake.
You were snoring softly as the door cracked open and nat came back.
“How’s she doing?” Nat asked concerned.
“Better but not good, she was sick again in the bath.”
“With you in it?” Nat asked wrinkling her nose slightly.
“No i summoned sickbag before she threw up on us both and in the water.” Wanda said. “Her temp has lowered slightly which is a good sign and I’ve put a sickbag by the bed if she needs it. But right now she needs sleep, i asked Jarvis and apparently she barely got three hours last night. Poor thing was up all night with her head in the toilet.” Wanda sighed looking down at you while you slept, and running her hands through your hair.
“Well we’re here now and thats what counts the most i guess.” Nat sighed and slipped in on your other side sandwiching you between both girls.
And thats how you slept for the next few days, under the watchful eyes of your girlfriends and there were careful to always have one of them with you to hold your hand as you were sick and change the sheets when you bled on them. You couldn’t have asked for better girlfriends and frankly the rings in your bedside draw was on your mind the whole time only solidifying your plans with their love.
MASTERLIST
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7grandmel · 4 months
Text
Todays rip: 17/05/2024
Athletic Doctor
Season 1 Featured on: GilvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips: Volume 1 Also on: SiIvaGunner: Starter Kit & Essentials
Ripped by Psynwav
youtube
ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL!!
I haven't slept in so long...I forgot what dreams were like.
Honestly - what better way could there be for me to celebrate the 365th main post on the blog, than to be fashionably late by a whole weekend? It's unfortunate, but...oddly befitting, really. Back when I was first starting out with the blog, I actually forgot about posting daily for a solid two weeks - and so, some old-ass posts like Chillin’ Like A Villain and (YTPMV) Bob​-​Omb Battlesources were made in quite a hurry retroactively. Nevertheless, it was on May 17th 2023, over on my main blog @melblur, that I suddenly decided that I wanted to write about one SiIvaGunner rip a day just for fun. After File Select Fusion Collab, I realized that it made more sense just to put these on their own blog, and with Snowball Park - Super Mario 3D World I moved everything onto here. It's all been a bit of a bumpy ride, is my point. But today, I've reached the big milestone that I was originally aiming for all the way back with Running Through Cookie Country - a year's worth of almost-always-daily posts on the weird and wonderful world of SiIvaGunner. And what better rip to discuss alongside this milestone than the channel's biggest hit, the milestone rip to stand above all others: Season 1's Athletic Doctor.
Now, I've been following SiIvaGunner since some of the earliest moments of Season 1, following along with the initial GiIvaSunner termination, the entire Reboot saga discussed in I Saw a Brainwasher Today, the Mashup Crusaders arc of Mr. Rental [B Side] ~ Out of Options, the channel ending of Epic Flintstones... Basically, I was there for just about the entire initial 9-month run, and have with but one Season's worth of an exception (Season 5) been following the channel damn near obsessively since. The point is that, through this, I have been able to follow the channel's most popular videos chart up and down with each passing month: I recall, for instance, how Nintendo GameCube Startup - Console/BIOS Music soared past all other rips back in the day and stayed on top for five month's time. That was, of course, before finally being surpassed by we are number one but with outdated memes over it and subsequently helping kickstart the entire We Are Number One meme trend (funny enough - you can actually find a youtube comment left by me on the rip in late December 2016/early 2017 expressing mild annoyance over the rip's popularity...). Athletic Doctor in comparison was of course always popular, but it took a while to truly climb its way up there - it was in the top ten, then top five, always rising, bubbling in the background. Eventually, starting with Season 3's premiere, the team decided to just make the rip the trailer for the channel for new viewers - where it still sits today, now as the far-and-away most popular rip on the channel.
I feel like the reason the rip became used as the defacto channel trailer, the reason it keeps being referenced in videos demonstrating what SiIvaGunner is all about, is pretty obvious. I've talked a lot in posts like Live and Ooooooooooooooh about how outright *effective* many of Season 1's rips were, and Athletic Doctor is the most prime example of that imaginable - it is a damn near pitch perfect joke executed shockingly well for the time of its upload in the channel's history. EVERYONE knows the music to Super Mario World, either through its usage in the game itself in the 90s, its appearances in games like Super Smash Bros. Melee in the 2000s and Super Mario Galaxy 2 in the 2010s - or just through sheer overexposure to it in just about any era of gaming YouTube. The game's soundtrack is the perfect blend of being immediately recognizable and incredibly easy to hum along to given the entire game basically only has three or so melodies, relying on its central leitmotif to a degree bordering on parody. Likewise as well, EVERYBODY knows Witch Doctor, either through excessive radio play, being a big hit with Alvin & the Chipmunks...or the 2007 Live Action Alvin & the Chipmunks movie that I myself grew up with, it's the kind of vaguely obnoxious (also arguably quite racist) nonsense novelty music that's incredibly appealing to young kids, the same way something like Crazy Frog or its ilk was in the 2000s as well.
Put simply, Athletic Doctor was a match made in heaven - and the joke is pulled off so expertly that it feels redundant to put into words. The Athletic Theme intro is iconic enough to where you're led into a false sense of security right off the bat, the melody swap is subtle enough as to not immediately be noticeable, making the moment you notice it even more noteworthy - only for the track's second loop to become a full-on mashup with the Witch Doctor track. Absolutely perfect escalation, just the right amount of buildup - but most importantly, it ends up actually sounding really good! The joke's great to be sure, very much like Live and Ooooooooooooooh - but I feel like the core reason why Athletic Doctor has continued to endure for so long on the channel, why it keeps getting remixed and referenced and paid tribute to on so many instances, is because it's just a genuinely good listen once the joke sets in. In other words, it is the purest distillation of SiIvaGunner's appeal - a joke so simple, yet pulled off with a magical appeal that remains even all these years later.
Through running this blog, it's that very specific appeal that I've wanted to try and encapsulate with the rips I cover, with what I write about them, to uncover that elusive magic of this dumb shitpost channel. Joel's big Grand Dad reaction that kicked the channel off is a good bit, to be sure, but its not a bit that could've lasted eight years and counting: In its earliest days, its easy to see how the channel could've just become naught but a novelty and fallen off the face off the earth once interest in it died. Yet through each year of the channel's life, with every Season that passes, it's evolved and adapted. Be it the spontaneous chaos of Season 1, the building storyline of Season 2, the mystery and nostalgia of Season 3, the sheer talent on display in the King for Another Day Tournament in Season 4 Episode 1 and the sheer joy of celebration found in Season 4 Episode 2, the whimsical experimentation of Season 5, the sudden introspection and moodiness of Season 6, the pure adoration and love for everything the channel stands for in Season 7, and the ongoing pure silliness of Season 8 - each period of this channel feels as if it's growing in a new direction, never content sitting in one place for too long - and yet the appeal of a rip like Athletic Doctor remains oh so core to the entire SiIvaGunner experience. The experience of which I've made my best effort to cover across all 365 posts on this blog. To show everyone the layers in which this channel goes in.
That's what I've been wanting to show you... but now, before I end this post, I want to briefly talk about what you've shown *me*. I know its a cliché thing to say, but really - it warms my heart EVERY time I receive messages about the blog. This all began as just a way for me to practice my writing ability, but suddenly I was having the actual rippers - the names that I'd admire from my MP3 player but hardly ever considered able to actually interact with - messaging me in private to express how happy my posts made them...not to mention the people in SiIvaCord discussing rips with me, digging into my writing, sharing anecdotes I'd never heard of, and everyone who requested rips genuinely eager to see what I had to write about them...like, again, its the biggest cliché on the planet, and I know this blog really isn't all *that* big in the grand scheme of things - but I never expected to even get more than five people actually engaging with what I post? To everyone, and ESPECIALLY to the silent majority reading my posts without a Tumblr account, the ones engaging from a distance - thank you SO much for validating all that I've done on here.
Now, there's still plenty of posts I have left in me, plenty of ones already in the drafts and unfulfilled requests well in the dozens. But like...tons has happened since when this all started 12 months ago. I got a summer job! I'm wrapping up what's hopefully my final three school courses! I've started listening to so much new music, expanding my music tastes, in huge part thanks to all the digging this blog has made me do! And, of course, getting to be this open about what's likely my absolute weirdest special interest has honestly made me feel more confident in myself as a person, made me a more outgoing individual in general. And so, to get all of my ducks in a row, to help straighten things out for a bit...I'm going to take a break from regular posting on here. I'm aiming for it to be no longer than a month's time - again, I have much I still wish to write about!! - but you'll of course still see me reblogging fanart and other such things on here just from using Tumblr casually. And hey - if you haven't already, I recommend you take the time to go scavenging through The Archive for daily posts that you might have missed! Having a blog with so much writing on it, so many posts, so much to discover for readers old and new...In a way, I've basically made it so that navigating the blog feels just like navigating the vast seas of the SiIvaGunner channel itself. And isn't that just the most fitting way to leave it all on - an ocean of posts, waiting for you to uncover them?
THAT SIIVAGUNNER TUMBLR BLOG WILL RETURN IN SEASON 2
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Note
okay so ive really really enjoyed your nsfw-alphabets for lords of chaos, and i was wondering if you could write one for hellhammer (the one who was played by Anthony De La Torre)? its completely okay if you wouldnt like to, considering he didnt have much screen time but it would be super cool if you did!
have a good day/night! ☆
Hello my dear @bvg-w1res first of all I'm glad you liked my nsfw-alphabets for the other characters it was fun and a little challenge to write for all of them. Also Hellhammer because like you said he has not really much screen time but I did my best. Also thank you very much for this request and I hope you like it ans everybody else too. Have fun reading :)
ps : have a good day/night too
NSFW - Alphabet - Hellhammer
Tumblr media
warning : +18, minors don't interact, it's getting steamy under the cut
masterlist
Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actors who play a role, not the real events.
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A = Aftercare (how they are after sex).
°Hellhammer or Jan as he is usually only called by you when you are together is an angel when it comes to aftercare. No matter how long you slept together he will at least always tell you how good you were.
°He loves to pamper you afterwards, it's important to him not only to make it clear that you are his pretty girl but also to show you his softer side. He loves to praise you, to clean you and him and to fetch little snacks if you are hungry. He will love to take care of you.
°,,My beautiful girl".
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B = Bodypart (his favourite part of you and them)
°He loves his hands because as Mayhem's drummer he is one of the best and most dexterous. And not only he knows that. No matter if it's just foreplay or directly during sex his hands are always on your body. Whether it's massaging your breasts and watching with relish what happens when he lightly pinches your nipples. Or on your buttocks to press them lightly. But also to run through your hair, not least when you give him a blow job and he can direct you that way. Instead of the silver tongue he has the silver hands.
°He loves everything about you, you are his pretty girl. But most of all he loves two things about you. Your breasts are just the perfect shape and size for him, they fit perfectly in his hands and he loves to watch them almost fascinated during sex. It doesn't matter if you wear a bra or not, they were just perfect. He also loves your thighs, especially when you are wearing knee socks, pantyhose, tight pants or a short skirt. Whatever it is, he just loves to touch the soft skin, kiss it, bite it lightly and just touch it, especially when he palms himself between yours.
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C= Cum (anything to do with cum)
°He loves to cum on your breasts especially when you suck him and he can watch his cum moving over your breasts and dripping on your belly and thighs. It's one of the most erotic things he's ever seen.
°He also likes to come inside you and watch his cum run out of you. Only to either stuff it back inside you to watch it come out again. Or when you come to take it in with his fingers and lick it off and taste it.
°,,Sweetie you are addictive".
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D = Dirty Secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
°Something he wants to try during a concert or a fuller band rehearsal. That you should ride his thigh, follow the rhythm of his drums and give in to the excitement. He wants to see you fall apart on his lap. How you come when you hold on to him.
°Like some of the others, he would love to make a porno with you. Similar to the footage from the party video, but he's serious. As soon as he finds the right moment he'll suggest it to you and you'll go through with it, you'll have a whole collection of different genres (Hellhammer comes up with the great idea to rent out these videos in the record shop - a surprisingly good deal).
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E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)
°He definitely has some experience, but it's more from his school days with some girl in the bathroom or behind the school. He was the good-looking outsider and has enough experience as far as that goes.
°But just because you've had a little experience here and there doesn't mean you're a sex god like Hellhammer. So the sex with him is good, more than that, but as far as teasing and all that is concerned, he still has a bit to learn. He was more just in and out and coming. Until the two of you got together and discovered the world of lust and eroticism. A more than just good journey.
°,,I am already learning new things, my love.
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F = Favourite position (without saying you know what it's about)
°69 position = A position he not only always wanted to try out and had watched in numerous porn movies. After you have reached the level of the relationship, it quickly becomes clear why he likes this position. Not only do you both orally pleasure each other, which is not only exciting for him, but being able to taste you like this is simply everything for him. Every time he is incredibly excited and can hardly wait until you finally end up in bed. He loves it too much, his hands on your hips and thighs, the warm soft skin and his tongue that he loves to use.
°,,Come on baby I want you".
°Ruler = An idea you had suggested and he was only too happy to comply, secretly wanting to try it out. Not only do you touch each other similarly to the 69 position, the fact that you are in control, set the pace and move your hips. When he can relinquish control and praise how good you are and just give himself to you instead of you to him. Something he can't get enough of when you take control.
°,,My ruler...I want you to take over".
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G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment? are they funny? etc.)
°Even though sex isn't really serious for him, it's actually a stress reliever and just something to get off his chest, so to speak. Is it more serious with you after you've been together which is also because he has learned through you that it can be more than just the reasons mentioned.
°But just because he has learned to take sex more seriously, there will always be jokes or comments or touching. He is actually always giggling and laughing and he just can't help it. For him it is almost impossible
°,,Just one more joke promised".
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H = Hair (how shaved is it? Does the trunk match the apple? ect.)
°He doesn't shave his happy trail he likes it especially in the summer when he wears a crop top and you almost crack him up with your look as he calls it. But even otherwise he doesn't always shave, sometimes when he feels like it or sometimes not. If it bothers you, he would shave it, but he doesn't have to.
°His hair on his head is already quite dark, which is why his hair down there is almost black, so the trunk doesn't quite match the apple or the other way round, depending...
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I = Intimacy (how are they at the moment the romantic aspect)
°He is surprisingly romantic during foreplay as well as during sex and afterwards. In that respect he is definitely the sanest in the whole black circle.
°Whether he's telling you how good you are, cuddling you, massaging you, adoring you, kissing you or anything else. Hellhammer adores you, you are simply his special girl, his beautiful girl. And he will tell you that over and over again.
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J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
°Often, especially when he comes back from band rehearsals and just needs to come down and you're not there, he passes the time himself. Mostly on his sofa or his bed. With several pictures of you, a piece of clothing or recorded videos it's just perfect.
°A thing you did once for his birthday. A strip tease for Jan where you made him touch yourself in a lovely way while you made him hard with your body and movements alone. A thing that will not only take place on his birthday.
══════════════════════
Kink = (one or more of the kinks)
°Mommy Kink = Maybe unexpected for both of you and for himself. In the middle of sex, his mind had been clouded with lust for too long, and it just came out of his mouth and he didn't really notice it. But when you teased him for it, it only excited him even more. Sometimes he called you ,,Mam" or ,,Mommy" as a nickname but it was always just a cute extra...at least that's what you both thought. Now it has become more of a little game of praise and dominance. Because he desperately wants your approval and you have to tell your handsome boy how good he is. While he admires and adores you at the same time.
°,,I'm going to do it good...Mommy-I-I promise really good".
°Power play = In connection with his mommy kink the thought and implementation of who will give in first. How far he can go with his teasing in the hope that you will be the first one on the bed. Or maybe it's you with words of praise, playing with one of his pretty locks of hair and saying "My good boy" that will get him on the bed faster than necessary, right? Every time it's finding out who's giving in, who's taking the lead, it excites him more than it should.
°,,You want to play, sweetie? Oh, believe me, we're just getting started."
°Hair pulling = No real kink but if you dominate him and touch him roughly whether on the arm, hand, leg, neck or even the hair he will become the submissive faster than his head realises. If you drag him by the hair onto the bed or wink at his knees, you will hear more than just whimpering and pleading from his lips.
°,,Please...harder...I'll be good".
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L = Location (favourite place to do it)
°His beloved couch in his flat. Not only was it incredibly expensive but also beautiful (in his opinion). So why not use it properly and not just to sit on it. From sitting, to cuddling and then to sex. That was the advantage as he had no flatmates he could make anything he wanted his sex place including his couch which became almost like a second bed.
°Everywhere. Really everywhere, it doesn't even have to be his flat. It didn't matter if it was the record shop, much to Euronymous' delight, or a back alley, someone's bathroom party. He didn't care, everywhere was perfect.
══════════════════════
M = Motivation (what turns them on)
°Clothing = Depending on what you were wearing, his range of emotions and feelings ranged from barely seen to a compliment to a drooling horny something that immediately gets on you. Especially when you're wearing something with cleavage and it's short. Then he presses himself almost demanding and yet submissive against you and wants to tear everything off your body immediately.
°,,You look...just so arousing beautiful"
°You at the drums = When he saw you sitting at his drums unnoticed, slightly lost in thought, running your fingers over the drumsticks and hitting the various drums with them. Not following any real melody but just playing in front of you. Did this trigger something in him that he thought was not possible. He wanted to stand behind you, lead you, take your hands in his and make a game out of it. A play. The teacher and his willing pupil. How he turned the swivel chair around and opened his belt. Knowing in your eyes what he wanted from you. Yep, that'll get him more than aroused.
°,,Fuck that's good"
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N = No (something they wouldn't do, dismissing)
°Boredom = What seems a little complicated at first is not. Hellhammer simply wants a certain challenge every time. A new position, a little more begging, a little more rebellion or simply a new approach. He is always on the lookout for something new and exciting. The main thing is that he doesn't get bored, because that would be death.
°Daddy kink = The opposite of his mommy kink. Whether it's you calling him that or him talking about himself that way. He doesn't quite know what it is but he either just thinks it's stupid and laughs about it or it's immediately something that turns him off and leaves him cold. It's just the way he is, he can't help it.
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O = Oral (preference whether giving or receiving, skill, ect.)
°He loves it when you give him oral he likes it even more than sex sometimes. Not only do you take him so well and are a god in his eyes when it comes to that. You also know exactly what to do. He loves to bury his hand in your hair, to set the pace, to move his hips slightly. Hearing your suppressed moans and pleas. Only to end up pulling you to your feet and kissing you not least to taste himself.
°,,Someone-ah should record how good you are at this. Like you were made for it.
°As far as your satisfaction is concerned, he is almost more hungry than Pelle and really wants to ask you for the best possible. He will go down on his knees as soon as you ask him to, his dark hair falling slightly into his face, a pleading submissive look reflected in his eyes. Drunk with anticipation and love, he kisses his way up your legs and ends up using more than just his tongue, that's for sure. He makes sure you have at least two orgasms. No matter how many you want, he'll give them to you. He wants to give them to you.
°,,You are so incredibly handsome-so beautiful, ma'am."
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P = Pace (are they fast and hard? slow and sensitive? etc.)
°He is in the middle between fast and slow. But it also depends a lot on his own arousal. How needy is he or you?
°But it doesn't matter if he is hard and fast or slow and sensitive. He's as good as ever at caring for you and finding the right balance in all four areas. After all, he wants to be rewarded with words.
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Q = Quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often etc)
°Quickies are my third first name according to Hellhammer. He loves quickies in the form of oral satisfaction especially when you get on your knees in front of him. It's easy and fast for him, brings him satisfaction. But even when you do it, of course he does it in return. He wants to ask himself every time how fast he can bring you to orgasm. How fast or how long it takes you to be caught by one of the coven. He wants to break his records
°If there's not enough time the solution is a quickie and as luck would have it you almost always don't have much time.
°Oh no, we still have fifteen minutes...sounds like a quickie to the other room. Don't you think?"
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R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
°Before you got together he didn't really experiment. It was often just thoughts he had but never acted on. But with you, oh man, you have a lot to go through because, to be more precise, he has made a whole list of things he wants to try out with you.
°Trying something with new things also means taking a risk. Which is why he always loves to take risks, whether it's for him or for you. The main thing is that you have tried it out, because the proof of the pudding is in the eating.
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S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long can they last?)
°He is not the man for the big one, which is not least due to his smoking, which he strictly denies. However, with him there are at least two rounds inside and the third if you are lucky but then you usually have to take over for which he is more than grateful.
°,,If two are not enough for my pretty girl...come here my tongue is always happy to satisfy you".
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T = Toys (do they have toys? do they use them? on their partner or themselves?)
°Drumsticks = Not necessarily a toy but just for foreplay and teasing he loves to use his drumsticks. You lying naked on the bed or relaxing? No problem, he simply lets the finely crafted spitezn wander over your body and lets your nipples become hard. Depending on what material the drumsticks are made of, you also let your tongue wander over them and he definitely has a camera with him. There was just created a new wixxvorlage that has burned into his brain.
°,,If you lick them like that again...fuck"
°Bandana = His bandana which he always carries with him is simply used for sex as a temporary restraint or gag. Also great as a blindfold when he wants to tease you with the drumsticks. Believe me, it works wonders. It's practical, soft and more than enough for the moment. And he always has it with him, which makes for a good quickie.
°,,I should have let you wear my clothes much earlier. Damn, you look hot, sweetie".
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U = Unfair (how they love to tease)
°Teasing is his middle name if you ask him. Egall where, when or how? He will as soon as he realises he needs you or just because. He'll start teasing you. A little touch with his hands on the straps of your bra down to your breasts. Knowing full well that the entire black coven is sitting at the table with you in the pinch. But he doesn't care, he's more interested in how you will react.
°,,A little challenge is fun, isn't it?"
°But if you tease him back or start it, it will either throw him off course because he is not quite prepared for it. Or he gets into it right away and gets aroused faster than he notices. At the latest, when you play with his hair and pull on it lightly, it's over and he's all yours.
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V = Volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make, etc.)
°Hellhammer is not necessarily loud. It depends a little on the environment. If it's in your flat, it will reverberate off the walls. But if you are somewhere outside then he is quieter but still audible to the others. Well audible.
°When he does make noise, it is often praising words and jokes. But when you have him completely wrapped around your finger he is a begging something. He loves to beg you to satisfy him on his knees if he has to. He just wants to be good for you.
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W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
°He wants to do a professional sex photoshoot with you. Not just the pictures from a disposable camera from Euronymous or a more than decent camera from his friends. No, he wants to go with you to a professional photographer and take the most erotic and dirty photos for his special album. And present them to Euronymous as album cover. Sex sells.
°He smokes no big deal himself but when you smoke a cigarette he is completely fascinated like a little boy. His gaze never leaves you and he watches you with perfect love. It's just so fascinating to watch you. You seem almost divine.
°,,Ma'm, you know how you have me".
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X = X-ray (let's look under the clothes)
°As already mentioned, he sometimes rasps his happy trail, but he also likes to let it get to him. The size 16cm/6,29921 is a triumph for him because he is a little bigger than Varg but otherwise normal. The width is not as wide as Faust's but it is still so wide that your fingers barely touch.
°But the wide grin on his lips increases when he catches you staring. You watch him as his fingers steal a little cream from Faust's birthday cake and disappear into his mud. This has to be commented on with a perverted comment. In summer he wears only pants and you don't seem to leave him. He feels like the king. Not least when he's in the shower and you just come to him.
°,,All this sexy stuff is just for you my love.
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Y = Yearning (how high is the sex drive?)
°On the high end for sure. He's not as needy as Varg in his weddings who felt fucked everything and everyone don't get me wrong.
°But at a party with maybe one or two beers he will look for his need faster than normal. Which is not surprising that you both disappear for a little while. Not that he could make it any more conspicuous with his broad grin.
°,,Sweetheart you look good...shall we just you know".
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Z = Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)
°Very quickly as far as that is concerned after the aftercare which is of course sufficient and more than just good. Both of you should feel good in his eyes, even if you are more important to him than he is to himself.
°Which is why he usually falls asleep immediately after the aftercare and has given his last strength to you. With a murmured "love you sleep well" he then turns over or snuggles up to you before you hear his quiet breathing. A cute sight.
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@mayhem-things , @beldamama
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ricky-tiki-tah · 8 months
Text
Glamrock Freddy Through The Ball Pit Part 1
(These aren’t particularly chapters, but each post is numbered and tagged ‘#gfttbp au fic’ so it’s easier to get to them)
“Disassemble Freddy!” Vanny screeched, her wide crazed red eyes zeroing in on the bear.
“Gregory, run!” Freddy called out, giving the boy a soft push in the direction he needed to go before taking off towards the many employee hallways to lose the staff bots. “I’ll distract them!”
Gregory gave a determined nod and continued on his way.
Freddy ran as fast as he was able, finding a nearly empty storage room to barricade himself in, tumbling staff bots as he went.
That was a mistake.
It appeared that the staff bots weren’t working alone. The spare endoskeletons had joined in the hunt and started to bang on the door Freddy had hurriedly closed. He looked around in case there was anything helpful in the room.
There, a crowbar! After a moment’s contemplation, Freddy jumped away from the door, racing towards the opposite side of the room, past the abandoned ball pit that seemed to be the only other thing in the room.
He didn’t make it. The staff bots swarmed him and the much stronger endos started tearing into his outer shell.
The bots ripped him apart, pieces flying everywhere. Freddy had barely enough time to hope Gregory would make it out of the pizzaplex safely before one of the bots tore out something he needed to function, and everything went black.
It was the housing for Freddy’s AI coding. The ending that had ripped it out, tossing the bits of metal and wires aside to continue wreaking havoc on the animatronic bear.
No one noticed that the small bit of Freddy that made him who he was landed in the ball pit.
(>*v*<)
Michael was playing hide and seek. Or more accurately, he was hiding in the Fazbear Diner’s ball pit, laying in wait for his little brother, planning to jump out and scare the nearly seven year old.
“Ouch!” Something poked his leg, and Michael put a hand down to feel around for whatever the thing was. It wasn’t safe to leave pokey things where little kids played.
After waving through the colorful plastic balls for a long moment, Mike’s hand closed around something small and slightly rubbery. Confused he surfaced and pulled the thing up to look at it.
The small object appeared to be some sort of charm, missing its chain. It was a light blue, rubbery plastic, lightning bolt. It looked cool.
Michael completely forgot his previous mission of scaring Evan and instead went searching for something to string through the small circle at the top of the pendant. He planned to wear it, declaring in his mind that it was something a cool rockstar would wear.
It wasn’t long before he found a bit of balloon ribbon and had strung the pendant around his neck. He planned to switch the ribbon out for a bit of twine when he went home later that evening.
Speaking of going home…
“Mikey, let’s go! Daddy says we’re leaving!” Elizabeth called out, running past him to join their father and little brother at the entrance.
“Comin’!”
(>*v*<)
Freddy didn’t think he would wake up. Not that the animatronics really slept, but they did rest occasionally. This felt different. Like he was under water or behind a curtain. He couldn’t quite see anything clearly yet, but he heared one voice very clearly.
“Now I look like a superstar!”
He wondered where the voice came from. It sounded excited, and Freddy realized he was excited for the voice as well, despite not knowing who it belonged to. Everyone deserved to be a superstar.
Freddy blinked and everything got a tiny bit clearer. Just enough that he could make out vague shapes around him, but not enough to understand where he was.
“Wait until I show my friends!” The voice squealed and Freddy smiled softly before everything fell dark again.
(>*v*<)
Over time, though Freddy was unsure how much time, he was able to see much clearer, and what he saw greatly shocked and confused the poor bear.
He wasn’t in any sort of machine, be it endoskeleton or computer. He actually appeared to be riding along in a young boy’s head.
He couldn’t do much about this fact, unable to actually move on his own or even speak aloud. He did learn however, over the course of a day or so after the world finally cleared up, that the boy seemed to be able to hear him, at least a small amount. Pausing as if considering Freddy’s commentary at some points.
Freddy learned that the boy’s name was Michael and that he was thirteen years old. He has shaggy brown hair, grey-blue eyes, and a bright smile that lights up his brown, freckle covered face. Michael also has two younger siblings, Elizabeth and Evan. They live with their father, and visit a diner that he owns nearly every day.
Freddy also learns that Michael has three friends. The strange part, he thinks, is that each of them have a mask depicting much older versions of his friends, and even himself.
It’s with these three friends that Freddy finds himself most vocal, quietly scolding when the four boys pick on younger children at school or even Michael’s own brother. He doesn’t know why they do so, but he intends to make Michael aware that it is unkind.
(>*v*<)
Mike is fairly certain he’s going insane.
He keeps hearing a voice at the back of his mind, asking random questions, noting something he might have missed in schoolwork, and even scolding him for his actions. He wonders if his conscience woke up and gained a voice.
It’s very strange, he thinks, to have a proud voice say ‘well done, Superstar!’ after he’s completed a task, but he smiles at the praise nonetheless.
Lizzie keeps looking at him strangely when he suddenly starts grinning like a loon after washing the dishes. He’s not sure how to explain that the voice in his head is proud of him for doing something so simple as his chores without looking like a nutcase so he stays quiet. It’s not like she needs to know anyway.
Instead, Mike plots his surprise for Evan’s birthday at the end of the week.
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prince-toffee · 5 months
Text
Green Copper Flame
"Hey what's up Marines, it's ya girl Marine The Raccoon back at it again with another video! Last time we tried Magnesium, in this video we're gonna try out Copper, and see what colour the flame is."
---
The video sharply cut to the footage of Blaze asleep and snoring in her royal bed, her hair a mess, one strand even making its way into the cat's wide open mouth. Marine approached quietly, a finger against her lips, gesturing to the phone camera to be quiet as if speaking to the audience. The young racoon knew that her mentor's super-senses were unparalleled, she could hear a heart beat miles away and tell you who it belonged to. The fact that she hadn't slept for the two previous days due to mountains of paperwork helped the sly gremlin to move undetected. The fact that she managed to get this far was a miracle, opening the door to Blaze's room, sneaking in, unheard of. Mari stepped lightly on her toes. One hand holding the phone trying to hold everything in frame, the other holding a cylindrical container already unscrewed. And poured the contents of the container onto Blaze's head; a dark bronze powder, copper powder to be exact.
Just then Marine froze, a noise emanated from the cat, she was stiring up. Groggy, Blaze half opened one eye to investigate and found her easily-excitable apprentice's big ol' eyes glaring at her. "Wha-" Before the Princess could fully regain consciousness Marine enacted her contingency plan.
"Wake up sleepy head! It's-- uh-- your Birthday! Happy Birthday!!"
"...Today's not my b--"
Just then something else stirred around and up, hidden under the bed covers Marine hadn't noticed when she snuck in - The covers were pushed back and Silver's head popped out, also only half-conscious, with dark eyes bags and a bonette holding his quills. "Who's Birthday is it?" He asked still asleep.
Marine covered her mouth with her hand instinctively trying to hid her huge Chris Pratt Parks'n'Rec Pikachu face. But no such luck, she burst out cackling. Blaze suddenly became aware of the camera and the fact that she was being recorded. Her pupils dilated, oh no. If the puplic saw this. "MAH-REEN!!!" The young racoon sprinted away.
---
Footage cut to later, Marine sat at dinner table with view of Blaze annoyed, rummaging through her royal handbag. "I spilled lipstick in your Valentino bag."
"YOU SPILLED--UWA!?GHWAH!?AGAW?!!HA-- LISPSTICK IN MY VALENTINO WHITE BAG!?!?!!!??!!" Blaze roared in fury, in pure rage. Right on queue, as a physical manifestation of her emotions flames burst up from Blaze's head, ponytail, and shoulders. Marine burst out laughing again, so hard that she actually fell off her chair, and began to roll on the floor. It took Blaze a second to release, she turned to look at the closest mirror and there it was; her head, burning a green copper flame.
---
The shower head was on, the ponytail hairband was discarded off somewhere, Silver had emptied an entire lavender scented shampoo bottle onto Blaze's head, and was in the midst of massaging slash rubbing it into the Princess' hair. Blaze had stuck her head into the shower stream once more scrubbing it again and again.
"I think that's it." He said.
"Are you sure?"
"Pretty sure. I think you burned most of it off... And we're out of shampoo."
"Which one was it?"
"The ugh--" Squint, "Lavender. Ouff, I need glasses." He moved his pointing finger and a towel journeyed across the bathroom into Blaze's hands coated in green aura. Blaze dried her head best she could and hanged the towel on her shoulders. "At least you smell nice now." He remarked trying to find a 'silver' lining.
She sighed, "You always take her side." She sounded unamused.
"That's why I'm her favourite." He kissed her on the forehead.
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