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#how DO i name lofted?!?!
figminxr · 9 months
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July 29 2023*
*posted August 8 2023 because I put this in my drafts and forgot about it lol
OK - this is going to mark the occasion of my First Realistic Devlog. That being - one where I actually record some of the more tedious aspects of my job (graphic design) + deeper thoughts about it. (It's not ACTUALLY all playing with holograms!)
Luckily, I have a secret passion in that I really, really love graphic design. It's one of the most powerful forms of art, which is why so many billions are spent on advertisement each year. It's scary powerful, is proven to influence the way we THINK (propaganda is graphic design), and reminds me why it's so important to Touch Grass every once and awhile.
ANYWAYS. My task right now is to 1) Make new brush icons, 2) Make new brush names, and 3) To write actual, helpful descriptions of what each brush does.
This is to make the app more accessible for non-artists! I want the "art" section of Figmin to be as fun-to-use and nonthreatening as Kid Pix. Figmin already does wonders for bringing out people's inner, creative child, (it's REAL HOLOGRAMS YOU CAN TOUCH. LIKE?!?) -- there are still some genuinely confusing bits of the Tilt Brush section that daunt the average, less art-program savvy person. For example, take this brush called Lofted:
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What does this image, combined with the name "Lofted" even MEAN?!? What is a "Toon Tube"?! What is SUPERCOLOR???
Lots of icons are good and actually intuitive (Image from this article):
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Others are a little.... less so. (Why are "Wire" and "Light Wire" VASTLY different brushes?! What is "Toon" supposed to be??? It makes 3D tubes with black outlines and is UGLY. I literally never use it. There is "Toon" discourse among Tilt Brush artists.)
Doing hundreds of public demos really taught me about what people liked... and what they struggled with - so I'm working very hard to make it as amazing as I can! It's honestly an honor to work on a program that has as much reach as Figmin XR does - to be recognized and approached by strangers because of it!!!! - and I wanna say we're trying to set the best example we can of what this new technology could REALLY be used for.
... Because it's gonna be used for a lot - and not all of it is gonna be good. I'm constantly thinking about Keiichi Matsuda's film "Hyper-Reality", which is a "bad end" vision of what AR glasses will be like, and I think it should be more widely known among developers. And just like... people in general. Think about what tech you consume, kids! 🫡
BUT YES. Brush icons. Tooltip names. Making new ones is hard!! I'm trying to exactly match the existing Tilt Brush style, while also attempting to include visual & naming information that makes every single brush as organized and easy-to-understand as humanly possible.
It's fun! But agonizing. 🫠
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oflgtfol · 1 year
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watching art videos and recognizing michaels products counts as a mental illness i think
#someone whips out some ribbon with the Celebrate It™ brand logo on it#and im like haha. thats a michaels store brand. sold exclusively at michaels#brot posts#michaels posting#or craftsmart. artists loft. art minds. recollections#what else is there im sure we have other store brands#BELMONT. belmont frames.#CREATOLOGY. for kids crafts#oh and uhm. make market thats the newest one#ASHLAND for seasonal stuff too#if you shop at michaels and you see any of these brands just know theyre the equivalent of store brand#bc for some reason Michael loves to move away from name brands and produce everything in house#theyre trying to move away from name brands as much as possible which is crazy to me like we cant have ALL store brand thats stupid#especially for the fine arts and stuff like you cant have people looking for like posca or copic markers and. we just. dont sell them??#we are an art store how do we not sell name brand fine art stuff#idk. i digress#we’re definitely transitioning away from name brands but the rest is hearsay on reddit like surely we can never reach 100% its just insane#but yeah we’re definitely moving more towards in house production#like just recently we got rid of DIAMOND DOTS. FUCKING DIAMOND DOTS#and replaced it with the fucking make market store brand version#oh and the art minds vinyl rolls. instead of cricut or siser now we got store brand vinyl#etc etc all new shit from the past few months#but at least thats IN ADDITION to cricut and siser unlike make market which just replaced diamond dots entirely#head in my hands i am burdened with knowledge about the inner workings of michael#WAIT SORRY I REMEMBERED ANOTHER. BEAD LANDING FOR JEWELRY !!!
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usereddie · 9 days
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hello i humbly offer another installment of my "this was supposed to be a text post but it spiraled into a short coda oneshot" series.
hen and eddie talk about buck's coming out. also today's wordle is not lover i wouldn't spoil it and lover has already been used as a wordle. it was for the themes.
“Did you know? About Buck, I mean? Did you suspect at all?”
Hen looks up at him and puts her phone down, he gets a wordle spoiler when he looks at her screen. Lover. Got it. 
“Him being queer?”
“I think he identifies as bisexual.”
“Okay,” Hen says, and Eddie watches her face flit through a complicated series of emotions before landing on something fond and knowing that makes heat crawl up his spine. “You wanna sit down?”
“This doesn’t feel like a sit down conversation, it’s not a big deal, I’m just asking if you knew—”
“Eddie,” she cuts him off. Her smile is kind and gentle and Eddie gets the quick building feeling he should’ve stayed in the bunk room. “Sit down.”
He sits. 
Hen pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tilts her head a little as she smiles at him. The head tilt reminds him of Buck because he finds little pieces of Buck everywhere. He’s in the song on the radio in Eddie’s truck on the way to work and he’s in Christopher’s English homework because the stories Buck used to tell him when he was little enough to ask for them influenced his creative writing. He’s in Eddie’s kitchen even when he isn’t because Buck got him a set of rainbow silicon spatulas because they were a buy one get one free deal. 
A copy of Buck’s loft keys on Eddie’s keychain, his name in the calendar that he wrote himself take out w/ buck ! no skipping in his messy, nearly illegible scrawl. 
But Eddie can read it because he doesn’t think there’s a universe out there where he doesn’t understand Buck down to the chicken scratch. 
“I didn’t know, not for sure. It wasn’t ever something I thought about at length, either. I’ve mentioned it to Karen once or twice and there have been times where she’d shoot me a smirk from across Bobby and Athena’s backyard at something Buck said, but it’s not something I’ve ever discussed. That doesn’t feel right.” 
“But you knew?” 
“I wasn’t surprised.”
He fidgets with a rubber band someone left on the table. He wants to ask more. Needs to know what made her realize it in Buck. If she sees the same in him. 
Eddie’s never really thought about it. Or, that’s not quite true. He knows, in a way. That something’s never been quite right. That he’s never felt for women what he’s been told he’s supposed to feel. 
Dating isn’t supposed to feel like a performance, he doesn’t think. Nobody else seems to think it is. 
He likes the sex for the most part. Figured that was enough to carry it. Sex feels good but then again he’s pretty sure sex always feels good when both people want it. It’s not like it’s some sort of burden to eat his girlfriends out but there’s something missing. He likes making them feel good but he doesn’t like how high pitched their moans are of the soft sighs that spill out of their mouths. There are soft tits where hard chests should be and it doesn’t. 
It doesn’t feel right. The sex is good, it's fine, he'll take it, but—
Love shouldn’t be just about sex. Eddie doesn’t want it to be. 
“Did you ever assume something about—” he cuts himself off but Hen sees right through him anyway. Maybe lesbians have some sort of psychic third eye that lets them see beyond the performative exterior he puts on. He tries not to squirm as she looks at him. 
“About you?” she asks, and the world doesn’t stop spinning or start spinning backwards or tilt on its axis. Eddie thinks it should. It’s the least the earth could do, honestly. 
He swallows. 
“Yeah.”
Hen hums and Eddie can tell she’s trying to gather her thoughts and form them into sentences that won’t send him running for the hills. Being—this doesn’t feel like something to run from, though. Not so much anymore. Maybe a few years ago, maybe when he first got to LA and his parents' words and their bitterness were still stuck to his skin. When he still felt like he wasn’t good enough. Not for his son, not for Shannon, not for himself. 
He feels good enough now. And he thinks he’d like to fall for someone the way Buck seems to be falling for Tommy. Except he’s really fucking scared the person he’s falling for is—
Well. 
Buck. 
It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and it doesn’t, not really, it’s the kind of thought that sits quietly in the back of your mind and waits for you to uncover it. 
Buck came out and it uncovered itself. 
Buck is bi. Buck dates men. 
Buck could date him. And he isn’t.
That’s the crux of it all. Eddie was drunk and Buck’s arm was around his shoulder and he felt lightheaded, couldn't stop smiling so hard his cheeks hurt the next day. Bubblier than the champagne. Floaty. It wasn’t even a new feeling, not with Buck. 
He makes him so fucking happy. 
Even through hell, Buck makes him happy. That’s love, probably. Definitely. Eddie tries not to think about it too hard otherwise he might have to go see Dr. Salazar again, and he really doesn’t feel like explaining this to the woman who diagnosed him with repression. 
Getting an I told you so from his sisters would be one thing. 
“Do you want me to be honest?”
“Yes,” he says, far too quick and clipped and awkward. He smiles tightly. 
“Yeah. I thought you were, actually. When you got to the station, you wouldn’t talk about Christopher’s other parent. Even in the beginning, you barely talking about him. I figured an army guy from Texas probably wasn’t used to being out. And then you weren’t gay, so I assumed you were just being a scorpio and not letting anyone in. But you let Buck in.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t—there’s no bet about it. About the two of you. I don't think anyone would be surprised, but no one talks about it. That’s not the kind of thing you gossip about. But, yeah. People were surprised when the mysterious partner you wouldn’t talk about was your wife, and not a husband.”
“Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”
“That’s not my place to tell you.”
“Hen. You’re my friend, and the only other queer person I know and trust enough to ask this to. I can’t exactly go ask him that question, and I don’t know who else to talk to. Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”
“Yes.”
Eddie’s exhale is shaky. 
“Yeah. Me, too.” 
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whore-ibly-hot · 8 months
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Yan!Husbands Boss x Married! Reader
"Just Another Day at The Office."
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18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Dub-con, misogyny, name calling, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem genitalia for reader, mentions of divorce, general perversion, praise, clit play, cheating, readers husband is a scumbag.
(AN: Requested by an Anon early today, and it made me feral.)
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Tick... tick... tick... the sound of an office clock rings in your ears, the only sound louder is your heart, pounding in your ribcage. The clock was awfully loud, though you had never noticed it before, when you were coming to bring your husband a warm, home-cooked meal. Maybe then you didn't notice it because you weren't fearing for your future.
Morgan & Cole, the investment firm your husband had been working for for years had been doing better than ever, and in turn, so had your husband. Promotions, expensive raises, and more had been sent his way. The house was even being repainted. All that begs the question, how had you found yourself in this situation.
It was a few nights ago when your husband informed you of the deal he had made with his boss. Morgan, the co-owner of the company, had his sights set on you, apparently. At a holiday party, he approached your husband with an offer, an offer to get a night with you in exchange for another fat raise. You had always known your husband hadn't been the most loving, but you had never imagined his greed could get to this. The worst part was how casual the deal he described was. Approaching a man at an office party and asking to sleep with his life like you were discussing sports frightened you. You had only met Morgan once or twice, and while he seemed charming, him doing something like this made you very much doubt he was in actuality.
You are snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Morgan steps out of his office, fidgeting with his smart-watch when he looks up and sees your meek form in the office lobby. His brow furrows.
"Oh, Mrs. Peters, I hadn't expected you to met me here. I had intended to come pick you up. How long have you been here?" He asks. You gulp. "Not long, just ten or so minutes." You say, trying to hold eye contact. He sighs and shakes his head. "Well, I wish you would have knocked on my office door, I feel awful having left you out here alone. Come, we can head back into my office and chat." His voice is so soothing, and in any other situation it would have been nice. You enter his office, and he closes the door behind him, before sitting at his desk. You take the chair in front of it.
"So, I assume your husband-" His teeth grind as he says this. "Is assume he has gone over what this is about." You nod. "He did... and... and I don't know if I can do this. I don't know you at all, and I'm a married woman." You whimper. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, and Morgan sighs heavily. He comes around to lean back against the front of the desk, one hand supporting him while the other touches your cheek.
"I know this must be scary, I understand that. But I'm gonna solve both of those problems right now." He kneels down so your eyes meet his. "First, you worry you don't know me. Let me fix that. My name is Morgan Brant, I am thirty-two, and I live in a loft down on 37th. I like charcuterie and making my own organic lattes. I work out everyday, and enjoy walking through the city. I have both of my parents, Ruth and John, and they live in the city as well. Anything else you'd like to know?" You're too stunned and still panicked to respond, so you just shake your head. "Okay, okay. Good." He murmurs. A hand strokes your hair softly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. To your shock, for a man who basically paid for a co-workers wife to prostitute herself, he does seem genuinely upset at your fear. His eyes are filled with a sorrow, and he chews his bottom lip nervously. He looks down for a moment.
"Mrs. Peters, your second concern, about being a married woman, is very respectable. I appreciate that you respect the sanctity of marriage so much. I think your loyalty and love for your husband is beautiful." He pauses, and gently grips your chin so you look him in the eyes. "But... I worry that love and loyalty may not be returned. Mrs. Peters, I need you to promise me you will listen to what I am about to tell you." You gulp, his suddenly serious, yet still soft, tone worries you.
He stands, walking to the back of his desk and opening a drawer, grabbing a manila envelope before sitting down at his chair again. He pushes the envelope towards you, folding his hand together and sitting up. He looks as those this odd exchange is yet another business deal, as he sits like a man prepared to do whatever it takes to seal a deal. A real businessman. Your hand trembles as it opens the envelope. Your heart stops.
Inside, your husband can be seen in several photos, from many different angles. Some looked ripped from security footage, others appear to be taken at a distance. However, they all contain the same subject. Your husband, locking lips with various women, every photo a different one. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a choked sob. "N-no... I mean, he was never warm to me, b-but..." Everything comes crashing down at once. All those nights you waited up for him when he was 'working late', all those warm meals you brought him at work, only to be brushed off so he could talk to his secretary. It all made sense.
"I can't believe this..." You squeak. Morgan shakes his head. "You can believe it, I know you can. He's never loved you, I've seen how he treats you. Rejecting your meals, ignoring you at office parties and work functions. My dear, he is actively sitting at home and preparing to count the bonus he received for pimping you out to me." Morgan exclaims, his shoulders tightening. You put your head in your hands. "I'm... what am I going to do?! I'll divorce him, but I'll have nothing. I, oh god." You cry. Morgan once again moves to try and comfort you. His broad arms wrap around your shoulders.
"I know, I know this is scary. You've been through a lot tonight, your entire marriage even. But it's going to be okay." He cups your face. "I've been watching the two of you, you mostly." He hands you something. An empty tupperware container. "This is from his lunch yesterday. Every meal he rejected from you, I gladly took. I hadn't had the chance to eat something made so lovingly in a long time. They don't serve home-cooked meals like this at business conferences." He chuckles. "I saw how you would cling to him at those same parties he was ignoring you at, and wishing, praying you would cling to me like that." You look up, his confession is shocking. "Your husband... he is a greedy man, but he has pride. I knew I wouldn't even get a moment along with you unless there was something in it for him." He shakes his head. "Darling, I was just as disgusted as you were that he'd agree to that. As excited as I was, as I am for this moment with you, I was thanking whoever is out there that no other person at this office had tried something similar. I'm not some deviant, or criminal. I've had my fair share of sexual encounters, with prostitutes and escorts, but... I never felt anything. I need to feel something. I do with you." He says.
You shake your head. "You don't know me." You say. He shrugs. "You don't need to someone to love them, not at first. I hate to say this, but you didn't really know your husband, did you?" You sob again, and his sticks his hands out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry darling, that was out of line. I just needed to prove a point. What I'm saying is, I don't just want one night of pleasure with you. I want you to be mine. If you left him, you wouldn't be lost or desolate, you would have me. I could give your everything he has and more. Money, a penthouse, and my love. Real love. You deserve someone who wants to care for you the way you cared for that man-child. I can do that." You sniffle. "It's all so soon, and I don't... I'm scared." You say again. "I know. I hadn't wanted to do this here. I had wanted to show you the pictures and confess early on, I had plans to pick you up and take you somewhere nice to eat. I know the last thing you want right now is a fresh new relationship, I understand. But just maybe, the idea of revenge tempts you?" He suggests. You look up, and bite your lip. "What are you suggesting?" You ask.
"He thinks he's better than you, and that you could never leave him, because you have no one else, nothing else. Why else do you think he assumes their will be no repercussions for a night like this? He's so confident that you would never leave him, never even think about another man, that he truly believes you will return to him after he's pimped you out." Morgan moves closer. "I won't lie, I'll enjoy this, but don't just do it for me. Do it for yourself. Give in, leave him for a man who will worship you, who can give you more. Get back at him, and be with me." You shake your head. "You... you paid him to pimp me out to you like this though?" You exclaim. He nods "I had to show you how little he cared for you, same with the investigators I hired to get those photos." He nods in the direction of the envelope, now dabbled with your tears. "Besides, I've already signed his termination papers, I don't hire men like that here. He isn't getting shit for doing this to you." He assures.
In a moment of weakness, you break. The betrayal of the evening, the hurt and the fear, the anger, it's all too much. You sink to your knees, and nod. "Alright, let's do it. Just... be gentle, go slow." He nods. "Oh, my sweet. I'll do whatever you ask." He captures your lips, pressing your back against the front of his desk as he kneels beside you. His lips are soft, and taste of bourbon and mint. He smells like cologne, but a good kind, something smokey. Not like the tacky expensive stink of your husband, now ex-husbands favorite cologne. His tongue prods at your lips, and shyly you part them, allowing his tongue to slip in and suck against yours. He groans, and you both pull away breathlessly. While you take a breath, he immediately latches onto your neck, placing quick, feverish kisses along your collarbone. You gasp at the feeling, shrinking in on yourself. He grins.
"Does it really feel that good, that's quite a reaction." He chuckles. You blush and look to the side. "It's- It's been a while." He frowns and tilts his head. "How long is awhile, darling?" He whispers. "A few months, maybe eight or so." He shakes his head. "My poor girl, doing all that for him and he still wouldn't please you." He grips your waist, his lips on the shell of your ear. "To be fair though, even if he did, he couldn't make you finish. He would please himself, not you. But I won't, baby. Tonight, is all about you." You can feel a thick hardon pressing against your knee.
"Tell you what, darling. Let me make you feel good, real quick. Something nice and easy for my sensitive girl. Then, I'l take you out. I'm not just going to have sex with you without wineing and dineing you. Then, I'll take you back to my place, I-I'll send for your stuff tomorrow, and if you want, we can go for round two." He coos, looking up at you with admiration and hope. "Won't my husband try to resist my stuff being taken?" You ask. He shakes his head. "He's not your husband. If he calls, I'll hang up. He sold you out, and if he gets pissy, I've go the best lawyers in the country at my disposal. I'm not letting you spend one more night under a roof with that man. You aren't Mrs. Peters anymore, you're Mrs. Brant. Now... let Mr. Brant make you feel good." Hands cradle your thighs, slipping the skirt of your sensible slip dress up over your knees. A hand paws at your panties, cupping your cunt as he sighs. "So warm, poor little thing hasn't been touched in months. I've only kissed your neck a little, and your soaked. Is it because I said I love you? Does your little cunt respond well to just being admired and appreciated? Oh, my darling." He slips your panties aside just a little, not wanting to ruin your outfit for dinner later. Fingers part your lips as a long digit strokes up, from your entrance to your clit. A finger prods the entrance, and you gulp at the throbbing heat you feel.
"Gentle, slow please." You murmur. He nods, placing a gentle kiss on your neck before slipping in his digit. His long, calloused fingers rub your neglected walls in all the right ways. "A-ah, Morgan..." You pant. "Good?" He asks. You nod, breathless already. He thrusts it in and out gently, before asking to add another digit. When you nod, he adds another, while his free hand circles your clit with his middle finger. Perhaps its from typing everyday, day in and day out, but he is skilled. Even when your husband has slept with you, you had never felt like this. A coil forms in your stomach as you pant and whimper.
"M-morgan." You moan. "Please, I need to-" You're cut off by him sharply curling his fingers, as they hit a spongy spot deep inside you. "Oh, god. Yes." You moan again. "Cum for me, darling, please. I want to hear you." Morgan's tone is suddenly more desperate ethan you had heard it all night. He's needy, begging to know that he is pleasing you in the way he so desires. "Say my name, would you? I just want to please you, I need to know it feels good." He begs. "Morgan, I'm gonna cum, shit-" Your walls begin to pulse, juices coating his fingers. As you moan, finishing your high, he kisses you feverishly, desperate for closeness.
When you pull away, panting as you come down from your orgasm, he licks your juices off his hands with a squelching noise, putting your panties back into place. He helps you to your feet, and hands your your purse. "Ready for dinner?" He asks. Tired and very hungry, you nod. "Just one more thing, and you don't have to do anything, I've dealt with this myself plenty but-" He looks down, the tent in his pants is still very prominent.
"May I handle that before we go out?"
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natalievoncatte · 29 days
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Few moments in Alex’s life would stick out like this one. There was a rising panic in her throat, pulsing against her airway. Panic and grief gripped her like icy hands, working to strangle, and she wasn’t sure if what she choked down was a sob or vomit. Her hands trembled as they held the paper. She hadn’t thought of this.
The letterhead read simply, PAST DUE- FINAL NOTICE.
With everything going on, she’d simply forgotten about the matter until she swung by the loft. She should have sent Kelly, should have set up something earlier to deal with this. Kara was six months behind on her rent and she was going to be evicted if she didn’t pay.
Which she never would.
Alex had quietly accepted, about a month ago, that Kara wasn’t coming home, that all their methods had been exhausted, that her sister was lost in an infinite, shattered Phantom Zone, never to be found. She’s finally gotten the martyrdom that she’d been unknowingly seeking since she arrived on Earth.
She was keeping it bottled up, because the others still believed, even Brainy, who had to know the odds.
Alex seethed with a towering rage. There were some nights when, lying awake in Kelly’s arms, she’d fantasize about how she’d punish Clark for failing Kara, or what she’d do to Lex Luthor if she got her hands on him. Sometimes it would even be J’onn she raged at, or Lena.
She saved them all so many times, threw her life and body and soul in front of all them as a shield and took on their misery and suffering on top of her own, and though it was like drops cast in the ocean of Kara Zor-El’s grief, she felt every blow, every loss. Alex’s falling tears stained the letter as she thought of every time Kara paced this apartment, excoriating herself for her failures whenever she couldn’t be in five disasters at once.
Alex didn’t want her to be a superhero. She didn’t want that need to throw herself between others and their own suffering to consume Kara’s life, but it had.
Not for the first time, Alex wished that Kara had just stayed on the ground and let her plane crash. It was a selfish, hateful impulse. Kara would never have let it happen and even if she had, something would have prompted her to put on that red and blue costume and fly. It was what she was for.
Alex raged anyway. Fuck that little shit Wynn for making her a costume. The little pervert probably just wanted to make her try shit on to see her half naked. Fuck J’onn for recruiting her, fuck Clark for abandoning her… and… and…
The paper crumpled and so did Alex, sobbing. This was all her fault. If only…
“Alex?”
She hadn’t heard Lena come in. She’d long ago given up heels. Hell, shed given up. She was a wearing a hoodie that Alex knew was Kara’s and her hair was in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, and if asked when she last ate or sleep, she’d have lied. Alex already knew the answer: she ate when someone remembered to feed her and she slept on a cot in her lab as she tortured herself.
Lena was the only one that Alex couldn’t rage at because Lena was already punishing herself. Kara would be furious if she knew how they were letting Lena treat her health.
Without a word, Lena gently grasped the letter and Alex released it.
Lena read it, frowning.
Then she pulled out her phone.
“Jess, I have a task for you. I’m going to send you a pic of an eviction letter. I want you to pay off the back rent.”
“Lena,” Alex began.
Lena waved her off.
“I want the building. Set up some shell companies. No one can know it’s me. Try to negotiate so it looks legit, but they can name their price. I want it done by tonight.”
Lena hung up.
“This is her place,” Lena said, softly.
“You didn’t have to do that,” said Alex.
“Yes, I did. This is her place. She deserves to come back to it,” Lena dropped onto the sofa beside her. “I will never give up. I don’t care if I’m still trying to bring her home when I’m old and gray, it’ll be worth it to see her one more time.”
Alex felt a wave of grief overwhelming her.
“Besides,” Lena forced cheer into her voice. “I spent a billion dollars so I could hang out with her at work. What’s an apartment building?”
Alex jolted. It was as if she watched a wine glass, which had toppled and shattered and cast its contents across the floor, leap back into position. As if the shards of crystal returned to their proper places and the cracks sealed, and the wine splashed back to its proper place, not a single shimmering golden drop lost. When the understanding snapped into place, it was like a lightning bolt. She felt too large for her skin, and the fine hairs at the back of her neck stood, as though bearing a charge.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Lena was in love with Kara.
She could see it now. The love radiated from every pore of Lena’s skin, undulled by the grief that draped her like a nighted cloak, as gold shimmered untarnished beneath dust. Alex’s heart was about to break again.
“I have to get back to the lab.”
“Why are you here?” Alex said, softly.
“I was… I’ve been spending the night. I should have asked. I’m sorry.”
“Kara would want you to.”
Kara would want you to move on, Alex thought. She would want you to find someone and be happy and think only of her in fond memories. She would gladly martyr herself for you, too. You above all. She never stopped defending you even when…
Now there were two wine glasses, side by side, almost touching but not quite, promising a toast unsaid.
Oh.
Oh God.
Alex launched off the couch and threw her arms around Lena, holding her tight. Lena recoiled a little; she seemed to dislike hugs, almost like she didn’t understand them, even as she’d melted in Kara’s embrace dozens of times.
How had she been so blind?
“We’ll get her back,” Alex said.
“We will,” said Lena.
Later, Alex stood off to the side, her veins singing with unbridled joy after Kara released her from a full on, no-powers bear hug. She watched as the others embraced her and slapped her back and welcomed her home while Lena stared at here like she couldn’t believe she was real.
Limping, haggard, Kara suffered their joys with quiet reserve, pushing a little closer to her ultimate destination with each one until she stood in front of Lena.
The hug was awkward, tentative, but Kara thrust herself into it after a hesitant moment and Lena molded against her, the pair standing cheek to cheek a beat too long. Lena pulled back and Kara pulled after her, leaning in, only to dance back and do that awkward little shift.
“Kara,” Alex blurted. “For fuck’s sake, just do it.”
Kara looked at her, wide-eyed and a little betrayed. Kara was beyond honest to a fault: Alex knew that after Kara nervously told her about the infamous “I flew here on a bus “ incident. Kara was honest to the core of her very being, sickened by the act of lying.
To Alex’s surprise, it was Lena’s hands on Kara’s shoulders that turned her away. Kara looked back and her and Lena brought her hands to Kara’s cheeks, resting her palms against the abnormally pale skin of her face. Kara froze for two heartbeats and then gently put her hands on Lena’s sides and pulled her in, there bodies slotting together as their lips found one another, Kara leaning over Lena a little more with the added height of her boots as Lena collapsed into her, tears glittering on her cheeks. The kiss carried on until Alex cleared her throat.
Everyone in the room was stunned save Alex.
“Guys,” she said, “let’s give them a little privacy, huh? We can celebrate later.”
As the others filed out of the room, Lena raised her head from where it had lain on Kara’s shoulder and mouthed a silent thank you.
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Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Naked part 2
! READ PART 1. Link down at the very end of this post <3 !
Summary: After Peter sees you naked, he cant stop thinking about it, it’s the only thing he can think about.
Warnings: Peter is a charming loser Mentions of reader being curvy (Srry I’m giving my curvy girls love), kinda smutty but not? Kissing, groping, alcohol consumption. Based on New Girl <3
Peter lays on his bed, his head wondering to the night before.
Your naked body remains imprinted in his head like a picture, he can remember every detail about.
Your curves, your breasts that he would’ve respectfully grabbed if you let him—if Lauren wasn’t there watching in horror, and your cute ass.
If you told him to get on his knees, kiss your ankles and go down on you, he would do it in an instant—if Lauren wasn’t there.
Peter came to the conclusion at that very moment that he wanted—needed you in his arms at all times.
He didn’t want to just have sex, he wanted to be your boyfriend and treat you like how you should be treated.
Anytime you crossed his mind, his face would heat up and he’d start smiling and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl—it was pissing him off.
You guys always made it clear that you enjoyed being friends and taunting each other for fun.
You both argue too much and are constantly at each other’s throats, something romantic could never happen…right?
You hadn’t spoken to him since you…flashed him with Lauren being there. You were too embarrassed to leave your room after that, refusing to leave your room until Lauren had left and broke contact with Peter.
Deciding to swallow down your worry and embarrassment, you hesitantly knocked on Peter’s door,
“Come in!” Opening the door, you slapped your hand on your closed eyes,
“You don’t have to cover your eyes, y/n. I told you to come in” Peter stated, pretending to be annoyed at your presence even though he was actually waiting for you to come talk to him since the incident,
“Sorry! Just thought we’ve both seen enough nudity these past couple of days” Peter let out a chuckle and nodded, sitting at the edge of his bed with his arms crossed and his legs man spreading, looking up at you,
“I came in here to um—talk?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,
“Talk?” You nodded and whistled, looking around his room awkwardly,
“Yep!” He sat there, waiting for you to say something, his head cockily tilting to the side,
“Your probably wondering why I was laying naked on the floor in your bedroom last night” You said.
He nodded and pursed his lips, hiding a smile,
“You cock blocked me and scared away a poor, innocent girl” He said, laughing. Rolling your eyes, you slapped his chest,
“I know! I feel so bad. She’ll forever know me as the scary naked girl who was hiding in her sneaky link’s bedroom” He shook his head and laughed again,
“I was trying to make it even between us, y’know? I saw your naked body, and I’ll show you my naked body!” You explained. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed,
“Yeah, I get why you did that. Why’d you have to do it when Lauren was coming over, though?” He teased, smirking up at you. You scoffed and shoved him by the forehead,
“I didn’t know she was coming over! You could’ve given the group chat a heads up!” He nodded and stared at the ground,
“So, did you like…see my, y’know…kitty cooter?” You asked awkwardly, poking at his shoulder with a grin.
He cringed and groaned at the word you used,
“I did! I saw everything. Also—kitty cooter? Just call it a vagina at that point” It was your turn to cringe and groan,
“Ew! The word ‘vagina’ sounds absolutely terrible coming out of your mouth, Parker. Never use that word around me again” He scoffed and threw his hands up in defence,
“Geez! Sorry for calling it the scientifically correct name. Never use ‘kitty cooter’ around me again, alright?”
-
“Since when did you have friends that weren’t me?” Peter asked Ned, as he glanced around the loft that was filled with at least thirteen people,
“I can have friends that aren’t just you. Surprise!” Ned said, scoffing,
“You could’ve asked y/n, Mj and I that you were going to throw a fucking party, dude” He shrugged and grabbed a beer from the fridge, handing it to Peter,
“Didn’t know I had to ask for permission, Daddy” Peter scrunched up his face and took a swig of the beer,
“Whatever” He leaned against the fridge and continued sipping it, starting to wonder where you and Mj were,
“What the hell?!” There you were.
You and Mj had shopping bags in your hands, struggling to hold them all as you scanned the loft full of people in annoyance,
“Who let humans in our loft!” Mj yelled over the music, catching your shoulder with her free hand when you began to lose balance in your steps,
“Let me help” Peter jogged over to you both and grabbed some of the bags,
“Did you invite these people, here? I thought we were your only friends, Parker” You said. He rolled his eyes and slung your purse over his shoulder with sass,
“I didn’t know about this party, either. Ned invited them without telling us” Mj groaned and dropped the bags on the floor,
“I hate it here. I’m going to my room and not coming out until these people leave” She walked away down the hall to her bedroom. You began following along behind her,
“I’m doing the same” Peter trailed behind you like a lost puppy, now holding every single bag you brought home. Getting into your room, you shut the door and pointed to your bed,
“Put the bags there, Bug-boy” He tossed the bags,
“Gently!” You shoved him out the way and double checked that nothing in them broke,
“You’re welcome, Princess” Peter scoffed, sitting down in your fluffy pink chair, leaning back and stretching his arms above his head.
You turned around to face him and almost gasped as his happy trail was showing from where his shirt lifted up. Your attention then focused to how his big muscles flexed through his white shirt.
Jesus Christ.
“So…big” You mumbled as you stared at him. He raised an eyebrow,
“What was that?” Your eyes widened,
“Nothing! I didn’t say anything! Shut up the fuck up” He snorted and ran a hand through his hair,
“Where’d you and Mj go today?” He asked, now manspreading.
Can he stop sitting like a bitch, for fuck sake?
“Uh—we went to Sephora, Walmart, the food court and Victoria Secret. When we were at Victoria Secret this old lady called me a whore for looking at this lingerie set that looked like two tiny triangles and a string of floss” You rolled your eyes at the memory.
He laughed and stood up, walking over to you,
“Aw, that sucks. Old people, am I right?” He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a hug. You froze before nuzzling into his arms, sighing contently with your eyes closed, sniffing his armpit,
“Did you just sniff my armpit?” He asked. You could hear a smile in his voice,
“Pffttt—no, I’m not weird” He smirked and hugged tighter, his bicep now completely covering your face.
Is he doing this on purpose?
“You are pretty weird” You hummed to what he said, not recalling paying attention to anything but him.
“Never let go” The words left your mouth before you could really stop them,
“What?”
“What?”
-
“Chug, chug, chug, chug!” Everyone chanted as you and Peter were seeing who could chug down a beer faster. You managed to finish first which had everybody cheering and a couple of people ruffling your hair,
“Lick me, Parker!” You yelled, shoving his shoulder. Peter groaned and tossed the can away,
“I wish” He whispered to himself, but smiling as he watched you awkwardly dance in victory to the Pitbull song playing,
“Let’s play a game!” Ned yelled, drunkenly slinging an arm around your shoulder.
-
“We close our eyes and hold up a number on our fingers, and then on the count of three we open our eyes. Whoever is holding up the same number has to kiss!”
You and Ned sat next to each other while Peter sat across from you, next to a girl named Emily while she sat across from Ned.
Everyone was slowly starting to form little groups, playing different games together since it was still early in the night. You and Peter somehow got roped into playing this stupid game together,
“What are we, twelve?! This game is so stupid” You complained. Peter nodded along to what you were saying,
“Exactly! Also, Ned, I’m not kissing you if we hold up the same number” Ned scoffed,
“Why are you acting like we’ve never made out, before, Peter?” You looked at the both of them confused,
“Wait—
“We never kissed! Anyways, I’m only gonna play if y/n plays” He said, shrugging and staring you down nonchalantly. You squinted your eyes at him and looked over at Emily and asked,
“You playing?” She shrugged and then nodded,
“Okay, cool. I’m playing, then” Peter smiled and leaned forward so that his face was only inches from your’s,
“Damn. I guess I’m playing as well” Your breath hitched at his low tone,
“Yep! I’m playing, too” You repeated, mentally slapping yourself at your weird behaviour,
“Right. I’m gonna play, yep” He said back, now both of you becoming awkward once you guys realized how close your faces were,
“Ahem!” Emily cleared her throat in annoyance, breaking you guys out of your odd, repetitive conversation,
“Everybody shut your eyes, please!” You all did so before Ned began to count,
“Alright, open your eyes” Emily and Ned both had two fingers held up,
“Sweet!” He whispered under his breath before leaning in to kiss Emily.
Peter couldn’t hide his discouraged self when he opened his eyes to see that you both were holding up different.
After two more rounds of just Ned and Emily holding up the same number every time, Peter was getting fed up,
“I’m getting tired of watching you guys kiss, y’know” He said, still staring at you. In fact, he hadn’t stopped staring at you this whole game, this whole night,
“Honestly, me too. At this point, I’ll kiss anyone!” You stated, staring at everybody who was in the room, except for Peter himself. He couldn’t help but frown at that, now feeling like his feelings were one-sided,
“Fine! One more round, okay?” Ned said, closing his eyes and starting to count down to three,
“Open your eyes!” Coincidentally, you and Peter were both holding up four fingers. His heart sped up as he began to blush, but his face fell when he heard your groan and throw your head back,
“No way! I’m not kissing him!” He began to become defensive now, his way of hiding his hurt feelings,
“Well, I don’t want to kiss you either, y/l/n! And by the way, you said you’d kiss anyone!” You rolled your eyes and stood up,
“Whatever! Goodnight” Peter stood up as well in a hurry,
“Goodnight, as well!” He began to trail behind you as you made your way to the hallways to your bedroom,
“Why are you following me?!” You yelled, turning around and flailing your arms,
“I don’t know!?” He yelled back as you guys made your way to your room, the door being slammed shut by Peter,
“Why are you in my room!?”
“I don’t know!?”
You both stood there, simply staring at each other with squinted eyes,
“I didn’t even want to join the party. I just wanted to watch a movie and go to bed ” you mumbled, sighing heavily and sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, leaning your back against it.
Peter did the same, sitting next to you, his head falling back against the frame,
“Damn. I wanted to invite Lauren over” You whipped your head around to look at him with a scowl, to end up seeing that he was grinning and looking at you already.
He was teasing you.
You rolled your eyes and bumped his shoulder,
“Not funny, Peter” He doesn’t know why, but the way his name rolled off your tongue had his spidey-senses tingling, his ‘Peter-tingle’ is what May would call it.
An awkward silence fell between you both. There had been many awkward silences since the ‘incident’ a couple of days ago. You guys saw each other naked for god’s sake! That would make any roommates and friends feel awkward for a bit, but it was coming up on a week that you and Peter had that unresolved tension.
Almost like you were reading his mind, you started to speak,
“There’s this weird feeling between us” He glanced over at you and pursed his lips,
“I kinda miss the old us, y’know? The us before we saw each other naked and vulnerable” You let out a small giggle at the end of your sentence. He smiled and scratched his eyebrow while nodding,
“No—yeah, I get what you’re saying” You leaned your head on his shoulder, catching him by surprise,
“I just thought that if I showed you my naked-self back it’d make things less awkward and have everything go back to being—normal?” He let go of a long breath he didn’t know he was holding in, and leaned his cheek on top of your head,
“It did kind of take away my embarrassment…but—
He cut himself and bit his lip,
“But, what?” He puffed out his cheeks and and rubbed his chin.
Just say how you feel, Peter.
“It took away my embarrassment but—it also made me feel things?” You grew confused and raised your head from his shoulder to look at him,
“Feel things?” He looked down in shyness,
“Like—I couldn’t get you off my mind after I saw you in my room…naked” Your face became hot to the touch at his words,
“Not just your naked body, by the way! You’re so much more than your body! What I mean is that—
“Everybody is leaving!” Ned swung the door open, cutting Peter off,
“Oh! Finally” you quickly stood up and sprinted out the room, leaving Peter there to sulk on your bedroom floor,
“You gonna come and say goodbye?” Ned questioned, giving the Spider-boy a weird look,
“Just leave me alone to die”
“Um—okay. What an odd thing to say”
-
After saying goodbye and doing your nighttime routine in the bathroom, you made your way to your bedroom to find that Peter was no longer in there,
“What a weird night” You whispered to yourself, flopping down on your bed.
You started to think about what Peter had said before, about not being able to stop thinking about your naked body.
The way he said it, in such a nervous but charming way, had you clenching your legs together while replaying it in your head. Did you really have that much of an effect on his mind? Did he like you?
I mean, he did say it wasn’t just your body that he was thinking about. What would he have said if Ned didn’t open the door?
Meanwhile, Peter was in his room at his desk with his head in his hands, his head running wild with thoughts as well,
“You’re so stupid, Peter. You should’ve never said anything to her in the first place” His foot tapped on the ground anxiously, trying to decide if he should never talk to you again (which he knew was not possible and too dramatic), or if he should walk across the hall to your room and tell you everything he has been feeling.
-
Needing a distraction, you felt around for your phone on your bed, to your end table, and then groaned in annoyance when you remembered you forgot it in the bathroom,
“My god!” You lazily got out of bed and went to the bathroom, grabbed your phone, and started the seemingly endless walk back to your room,
“Holy shit!” You screamed in fear, placing a hand on your chest.
There stood Peter in the hallway,
“Sorry! It’s just me! It’s Peter!” You rolled your eyes and rubbed your forehead,
“Yeah, I know it’s you. Just—why are you standing like slenderman in the middle of the hallway?” He glared at you and ran a hand through his hair,
“I wanted to talk to you but, you look tired and annoyed so, I’ll just let you go to sleep, or whatever” You straightened your back and blinked, your heartbeat beginning to beat rapidly at his words,
“Yeah?”
“Yeah”
Peter could sense your heartbeat deep in his ears and a smell that he couldn’t really put a name on, but he liked it, and he knew it meant you were excited. It’s times like these where he’s happy that he is spider-Man. The hairs on his neck stood up as he stepped a little closer to you,
“Your heart is beating really fast” He started to feel cocky as he watched you look down to avoid looking into his face, and how the smell of your arousal was becoming more intense. He placed his hand on your chest,
“Peter” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,
“Yeah?” You cleared your throat and awkwardly looked to the side,
“Your hand is on my boob. That is not my heart” His eyes widened as his cocky demeanour disappeared. He went to snatch his hand away, but to both of your guy’s embarrassment, his hand remained stuck to you,
“Um—
He tried taking it off again,
“I’m starting to think this is not your spider-ness, or whatever. I think you just wanted an excuse to keep your hand on my boob forever” His eyes bulged out of his head and continued to try and take his hand off,
“I did not do it on purpose! I’m sticky! It’s apart of me!” You slapped a hand on your forehead, and grabbed his wrist to make him stop pulling,
“Stop! Rip my shirt off” His face flushed at your words,
“I’m—what?”
“You heard me. You’ve already seen me naked, so just rip it off and we can—talk?” He nervously chuckled at your words,
“Are you sure? Cause—
“Peter”
“Okay, sorry! I’ll just—
A loud tearing sound could be heard,
“Wow”
He stared at your chest, suddenly getting déjà vu, but this time you were wearing a pretty white bra that had a small bow in the front instead of being completely naked.
You crossed your arms over your chest,
“Are we gonna talk, or?” You trailed off, whispering and looking up into his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath and looked into your eyes as well,
“I, uh—we still haven’t kissed. We held up the same number, remember?” He said, walking so close to you that your back was almost against the wall.
Your ripped shirt that was still hanging from his hand finally detached, plopping onto the floor at your feet,
“Peter?” You whispered, biting your lip,
“Fuck” Peter grabbed your bare waist and pressed his lips onto your’s, a surprised gasp coming from you. You placed your arms on his shoulders and practically melted into him.
He felt relief when you didn’t pull away, instead tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging, grinding into him desperately. Remembering that you were still a human who has to breathe, you pulled away and took a deep, shaky breath, Peter as well. You glanced into each other’s eyes, chest moving rapidly,
“I like you” He whispered, gulping. You grinned and pull him back in by his face to your lips. His hands were now experimenting, rubbing your lower back, the straps of your bra, and then your breasts. He let out a high pitch pathetic moan when he squeezed them,
“I cant believe I’m squeezing your boobs right now” you snorted against his lips at his loser-like way of saying it.
You let out a gasp when he unexpectedly picked you up bridal style like you weighed nothing, his super-human strength causing your mind to lead to very sinful thoughts,
“I think it’s so hot your spider-man—and so, strong” You blurted out, staring up at his brown eyes as he kicked your bedroom door open. He smirked at that and gently laid you down on your bed. He stood at the foot of the bed and shrugged, flexing his biceps (on purpose),
“Thanks. I can lift cars and buildings, too. S’like, no big deal or whatever” He looked down at his feet and scratched the back of his neck,
“Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you gonna like—come here and have sex with me— or?”
“Right! Shit, yeah! Um—
He took his shirt off, hurriedly pulled down his pants and let out an embarrassing girl-ish scream when he tripped over his pants and fell on the ground with a loud thud,
“Oh my god! Peter, are okay?!” His head popped up,
“Yep! Totally good! Don’t even worry about!”
He dove on the bed and made himself comfortable between your legs, making you giggle at his enthusiasm. You guys went back to making out, his kisses beginning to trail to your neck, shoulder, breasts, and stomach. He slowly slid your pyjama shorts down your legs and tossed them behind him. He placed a hand on your boob and the other in your underwear,
“Oh! Peter!” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,
“Wow, barely touched you and your already screaming my name” You screamed his name again and pointed to the window,
“No, Peter! You threw my new expensive shorts out the window!”
-
END
-
Author: I cut my bangs too short so now I’m going to class everyday with these short fuck-ass bangs
Here’s part 1 down below
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lyjen · 3 months
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Clipboards and utility knives
Summary: When Hen and Eddie are running late for shift, Evan has to jump in to help his girlfriend on a call. But that doesn’t go quite as planned.
Warning: Mentions of blood, guns & bullets and cutting into skin
9-1-1 masterlist :)
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With a clipboard in her hand, (Y/n) wrote down the inventory numbers. Hen and Eddie were nowhere to be found and Chimney had a day off. Meanwhile Bobby, Evan and (Y/n) were already at the station, ready for their shift to begin.
Evan walked through the door of the locker room into the open space of the station. When his eyes fell on his girlfriend, who was standing with her back towards the locker room Evan had just left. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and she held the pen of the clipboard against her jaw as she was focussing on inventory. He walked towards her and let his arms fall around her neck as he gave her a hug from behind. She flinched, he could tell. He felt how her heartbeat fastened when his arms fell against her skin.
“How is my favorite paramedic doing?” He asked as he kissed her cheek. She smiled, as she turns her head to the side, so she could look at him while he still had his arms around her neck.
“I thought Eddie was your favorite paramedic” she answered and she let her eyes fall back on the clipboard in her hands. “Yeah, don’t tell him. But you’re actually my favorite. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.” He laughs, and planted another kiss on her cheek. “Hmmm” she reacted, her answer sounded like a “Yeah sure.” And she wrote another set of numbers down on her inventory list.
She tried to ignore Evan, she wanted to finish inventory as soon as possible. But it was hard when he was hanging around her shoulders, trying to get her attention in every possible way.
“(Y/n)” A familiar voiced called from above. Evan quickly let go of his grip he had on her, and both their bodies turned around. Bobby was standing at the railing from the loft. “Hen called, she is running late. So you’re the PIC until she gets here, okay?” Bobby asked for her agreement. She nodded, “yes cap.” And Bobby left the loft railing, heading towards his office she assumed.
“Ah so you’re the paramedic in charge now huh?” Evan teased her when he turned towards his girlfriend. She smiled as he poked her in both of her sides. “Shut up Buckley, don’t you have anything else to do?” She says as she tries to slap him away with her clipboard, while he poked her one more time. “Well..-“
“Ambulance one-eighteen, injury from a fall. Six, seven, one South Wooster street.” The bell sounded through the firehouse while red alarm light shined through the space of the firehouse. “Guess I’m going with you” he reformed his answer.
“That’s right around the corner.” (Y/n) said as she listened at the street name they just mentioned through the speakers. (Y/n) threw her clipboard on a bench in front of the gym, as Evan closed both back doors on the ambulance. (Y/n) took place at the drivers seat, and drove out of the station in the ambulance with Evan in the passenger seat next to her.
Normally (Y/n) would be driving with Hen, but she was running late, and Eddie was nowhere to be found. Evan couldn’t let her go alone on a call, as paramedics they were always with a minimum of two. Yes, Evan wasn’t really a paramedic, but he had some basic skills he could use to assist (Y/n) with.
When they arrived on location, they needed to enter an alleyway with the ambulance to reach the victim. The man wasn’t hard to find, he was lying on the ground in the abandoned alley, screaming out from the pain he received. Evan and (Y/n) jumped out of the ambulance and hurried towards the injured man.
“Sir where did you fall from?” Evan asked the homeless man, who was still screaming out his lungs. The call at the station said the man fell. “Did you fall sir?” (y/n) tried to connect with the man. “My legs! My legs!” He panics, as he tries to grab his legs.
“Okay, deep breaths. What’s your name sir?” She asked the man, trying to gather more information about the man who was down on the ground. Evan crouched down to meet the man’s height. And pulled the blanket off the homeless man his legs, to try and take a look at his injuries.
His legs were crushed. Snapped in multiple pieces. Evan’s eyes shot at (Y/n) when he saw the wounds. Bones were sticking out of the man’s lower leg.
“Buck get the medic bag and give me a needle with a flask with morphine, would you.” She ordered him. He nodded, and stood up straight when Evan’s eyes fell on a truck which’s engine was still running at the end of the street. The truck was standing completely still. “He didn’t fell, he was run over.” He concluded. And he ran towards the ambulance to get the medic bag and give the man the help he needed.
Evan took out an IV tube from the medic bag and passed a needle with a flacon of morphine to (Y/n). Evan searched for a vein in the man’s hand, while (Y/n) filled the needle with the right amount of fluids. “Get the splint out of the ambulance.” She ordered Evan.
When (Y/n) was pushing fluids through the man’s IV, Evan took out a piece of cardboard they carried with them to make a splint out to put the man’s leg in it to keep it straight. Carefully Buck tried to put the man’s legs in the splint and secured them so they could transport him to the hospital. (Y/n) got the gurney out of the ambulance and put the backboard next to the man so they could get the man easier on the gurney.
When the man was laid back on the gurney they secured the straps of the gurney around the man’s body. “He has passed out from blood loss. Let’s get him to Mercy Hospital” (Y/n) said to Evan. He nodded. (Y/n) secured the last strap around the man. When she noticed a car engine come closer, she looked up and saw a car enter the alleyway. “Who’s that?” She asked Evan. Evan looked at her confused. He was standing with his back towards the entrance of the alleyway. He turned his body ninety degrees to take a look to see what she was talking about.
It was a black vehicle that drove into the alley and stopped. Two men stepped out of the car and started walking towards Evan and (Y/n), who were still taking care of the wounded man on the gurney.
“Hey! We have got an medical emergency here, we need you to move the vehicle.” Evan told the two men. “Buck..” (Y/n) silently spoke as she noticed the two men were pointing a gun towards them. “Hands in the air, and keep your mouth shut.” One of their voices spoke. (Y/n) looked to her right, facing Evan’s blue eyes. As they both raised their hands. “It’s gonna be okay.” He said without a sound.
One of the men roughly grabbed (Y/n)’s shoulder and turned her around. “Hey! hey! don’t touch her!” Evan yelled, as he tried to reach out for (Y/n)’s arm. But Evan got pushed against a concrete wall next to him. Her hands were being bonded together with a cable tie, and so were Evan’s. “Wh- this guy needs to get to a hospital!” She said, unsure what was happening. She groaned as the cable tie started to cut into her wrist because of the tightness. “Just do what we say and nobody gets hurt” is the only thing the guy said. And they pushed Evan and (Y/n) towards the car they used to block the alley with.
“Just let her go man!” Evan said to both of the men, but they just ignored him and continued to push him. “(Y/L/N) Don’t get in that car!” Evan tried to warn her, as she tries to struggle against the man’s strength. She was too weak for the man, and she got pushed into the car.
The man who had a hold on Evan didn’t appreciate the message he told (Y/n). The guy slammed his gun against his eyebrow before he got forced into the car.
………………………….……………………………………
“Anyone heard from Buck and (Y/n)?” Eddie asked when he walked up the stairs after he got dressed into his uniform. Hen shook her head. “Nope, all I know is that they went out with the ambulance about two hours ago. And that was before I got here.” Hen answered to Eddie’s question while she took a sip out of her coffee cup. Hen leaned back against the kitchen counter as Eddie walked into the kitchen now.
Eddie was already hopping around the firehouse for an hour. This morning had been hectic. He was late to bring Chris to school, and ended up stuck in traffic when he tried to make his way to the firehouse. Eddie’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that. Normally they would’ve been back here already. The average call for paramedics is about an hour. And their call was already taking two. Eddie lets his hands rest on his hips. “That’s weird.”
“What’s weird?” Bobby’s voice joined the conversation they were having as he was walking into the kitchen.
“Eddie thinks it’s weird that the ambulance hasn’t returned yet from their call.” Hen answered Bobby’s question. Bobby was thinking. “They’ve been out for two hours now, could they be rerouted to another scene?” Eddie asked. “It could be… let me make a call and see if Buck picks up.” Bobby said as he reached for his phone.
Bobby unlocked his phone and tapped on Buck’s contact in his list. He held his phone to his ear. “That’s weird..” Bobby begins as he removes the phone from his ear, after a few seconds. “It goes straight to voicemail.” He continues his conclusion. Hen and Eddie both gave Bobby a confused look.
“Let me try to reach (Y/n).” Hen said as she picked her phone out of her pocket, while still leaning on the kitchen counter. Phone in the right hand, and her coffee cup in her left hand. She tries to reach (Y/n)’s phone. “Hi this is (Y/n), leave a message after the tone!” Hen clicks on the red button to hang up the phone. “Straight to voice mail.”
“This can’t be right…” Eddie says. “Let’s not freak out yet, I’m gonna call dispatch to see if they have any updates on our ambulance.” Bobby tries to remain calm. But he has a gut feeling that this wasn’t good. Buck always answered Bobby’s phone calls. Buck looked up at Bobby, he saw Bobby as his role model.
“This is Captain Nash, station 118. Do you have a location on our ambulance 118?” He asked dispatch. He waited a few seconds. “We haven’t received a status update from firefighter Buckley and (Y/L/N). However the location of the tracker says that they’re on 671 South Wooster street.” The dispatcher answered Bobby’s question. Every rig had a transmitter on them, so dispatch could see where every team was at every moment. Bobby thanked the person on the phone and hung up. Bobby’s hands clasped together.
“Put on your gear let’s go, we’re gonna take a ride.”
……………………………………………………………….
While they were driving, their radio’s along with their cellphones were thrown out of the car window.
They came to a stop, the men roughly pulled Evan and (Y/n) out of the car. Evan was grabbed by the collar of his button up shirt and (Y/n) at her arms. But as soon as (Y/n) struggled against the touch of the man, he grabbed a hand full of her hair. When Evan heard his girlfriend let out a squeal, his eyes locked on her. “Hey! Don’t you touch her!” He yelled.
“Do you want me to blow out your brain?!” The guy who was holding Evan at his shirt threatened him. He had his gun pointed on his sleep. Evan squeezed his eyes closed, realising that was not his best move. He froze. “Nah, didn’t think so” he said.
(Y/n) knew she had to leave some evidence outside, for her team to know where to look. She always wore her plain ring, it was the ring she got from Evan. A plain ring was one of the few things she could wear during the job. She didn’t have anything else to use as a sign for their team to find them. So she tried to shuffle the ring off her finger and let it drop silently.
Evan felt the metal of the gun leaning against the back of his head, when he got pushed forward inside of an abandoned building. (Y/n) followed after him, the man still had his hand full of her hair. Tears were forming in the corner of her eyes as the man pulled her hair and pushed her forward into Evan’s chest. He couldn’t catch her with his hands, which were still tied together. “Are you okay?” Evan whispered silently, barely audible. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She whispered back.
“Come on man, what do you want?” Evan asked, trying to find out these guys their motive. “You two, are gonna save him.” One of the men pointed his gun at both of them, switching the gun every second between Evan and (Y/n). He pointed behind the two of them. They both turned around, and (Y/n)’s eyes fell on a man lying unconscious on the ground, with a puddle of blood underneath him. The other guy cut their cable ties loose, so they could do their jobs. Save lives.
Evan took a glance at his girlfriend next to him. “You don’t have to do this.” He tried to talk (Y/n) out of it. She was just, staring at the man. But it wasn’t like she had a choice. They were held at gunpoint. “I’ll need equipment if you want me to safe his life.”
One of them grabbed a utility knife, alcohol and some glue. And put that on the table. That was what they were working with. This was gonna be a challenge. “Buck, help me get this man on this table” (Y/n) ordered as she got the unconscious man’s legs, while Evan put out his forearms and hooked them both underneath the man’s armpits.
(Y/n) grabbed the utility knife and poured alcohol on it to disinfect the blade she was about to cut into the man’s neck. She stood at the side of the unconscious man. The man had a bullet stuck in his neck, and they wanted the paramedics help to get it out. Of course they wouldn’t want to go to a hospital with a gunshot wound in your neck.
Trying to get the courage to actually perform surgery in the field. What was she thinking? She wasn’t a trauma surgeon. She wasn’t a doctor. She was only a paramedic. Evan stood next to (Y/n), waiting for her to shout orders. Her breathing became faster, (Y/n) could hear her own heartbeat ringing in her ears. The feeling of panic and anxiety rushed through her veins. She couldn’t do it. Both men were nervously walking behind (Y/n) and Evan.
Buck could sense that (Y/n) was starting to reach her breaking point. He’d do anything he could to prevent that from happening. She would go into a full blown panic attack right now and that’s not what they wanted.
“Let me do it.” Evan offered as he put his hand on her trembling hand which was curled around the knife. And he slightly pushed her away. An impatient voice took over the silence of the room. “Come on! What’s the damn’ hold up!” He said as he violently pointed the gun towards Evan and the other guy pointed the gun towards his girlfriend.
They both held up their hands. “It’s okay, we’re going to help your friend.” Evan managed to say. “Just put the guns away.” He continued. They both lowered their guns, as one of them put his one on an other table.
The men were facing the back of both Evan and (Y/n). Evan took a moment to breathe, as he made a cut into the unconscious man’s neck, trying to reveal the bullet. He couldn’t make the incision too big, but he had to put his fingers through the incision so he could get out the bullet. That’s what they wanted, right? Evan looked into (Y/n)’s eyes and gave her unnoticed the blade of the utility knife, which she shove into her sleeve so it was resting on her wrist.
Evan held out his hand towards (Y/n) who was holding the alcohol in her hand. And she poured the fluid over his hand. She knew what he was going to do. Without hesitation he pushed two fingers inside the wound, and yanked out the bullet. He panted, he actually did it. “Alright. The bullet is out.” Evan announced. “Good.”
One of the guys walked towards (Y/n) as he yanked her arms together. “Hey! We did what you asked, now let us go.” Evan told them. And (Y/n) got tied up again. “Will you shut up!” The other guy sounded when he grabbed Evan at his arm. (Y/n) shuffled the blade of the knife she got in her sleeve, up and down the cable tie when the man left her side.
And it snapped loose.
She was within hand reach of the gun they had placed on a table nearby (Y/n). She didn’t think for a moment and pointed the gun towards the two men. “Drop the gun.” She told the one who was holding Evan’s arms together and holding his gun. Both of the guys stood there with a confused look projected over her face. “I said drop it!” The man took a moment to take in what was happening, and tries to straighten his arm so the gun would be pointed towards (Y/n). But before the man could do that, he received an arm who was yanking him backwards from her boyfriend. The guy tried to pull the trigger as he hit the floor with a bullet.
(Y/n) flinched by the sound of a shot being fired. The other man tried to come closer towards (Y/n). “Don’t come closer” she warned him, as she keeps the gun pointed at the man. “We both know you wouldn’t pull that trigger.” He said calmly, as he took another step forward. “Want to make a bet?” She said challenging the man, as she fired the gun at the concrete wall on her left. But when the man took another step forward. That’s when she pulled the trigger and shot the man in his leg. He was screaming out in pain, and fell to the floor.
While the other guy was still fighting Evan, he tried again to shoot in the direction of (Y/n). But she dodged the bullet. Evan punched the guy in his stomach and onto his sleep so he went unconscious.
(Y/n) felt her knees buckling, like the energy was getting pulled out of her body. She didn’t have the energy to stand anymore. Evan rushed towards his girlfriend as he catches her just in time and pulls her in a hug. Her arms were hanging around his neck, and one of his arms was resting on her waist trying to hold her weight. And the other one was holding her back, trying to comfort her but also to give her support.
Evan lowered them together to their knees, so they were on an even height. Her face was buried into his neck, crying out loud. His shirt was already cresting wet spots because of her tears. “Ssssh, you did great baby. You were so brave.” He tried to comfort his girlfriend. He could see the whole time that she was struggling. Every time he took a glance at her face, he wanted to squeeze her hand. Tell her she was going to be okay. Tell her, she didn’t need to worry because he would protect her. His arm travels from her shoulder blades down to her lower back, again and again as he tries to reassure her she was okay. He pulled back from the hug, and let his hands fell on both her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a tear rolled over her cheek again. Evan’s thumb brushed the tear away, pushed a kiss to her temple and pulled her into his arms again.
“LAPD, put your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers!” A familiar voice rang through the abandoned building they were still in. “Get that guy!” She ordered the other cop behind her as Athena cuffed one other guy.
“Buck! (Y/n)!” Bobby’s voice sounded through the space as they noticed them both on the ground. Blood on their hands and on their faces. Eddie, Hen and Bobby crouched down aside of the hugging couple. Bobby put his hands both on Evan’s and (Y/n)’s shoulder and basically created a group hug when Eddie and Hen also joined in. For this story they were gonna need a lot of therapy sessions.
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tf-lover · 5 months
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Christmas Switch-Up
My gift for @bodyswapmischief based off his prompt for me. Hope you all enjoy, and Merry late Christmas!
~~~
“Jack, get off your fucking ass and help me damn it!” Darren called in through the kitchen door. 
His useless son was finally home for Christmas, and Darren had been long hoping the athletic young man would be able to help out around the place with all the long overdue jobs that needed doing. The loft needed emptying of the random junk that’d built up over the years, snow needed clearing from the driveway and the roof, and there was a long list of things that needed repairing among other things. But of course, Jack had been sitting on his ass in his room for days just playing video games and working out in the home gym Darren had put together for him years ago.
“Dad, I told you I’m busy! Do that shit yourself, it’s boring!” Jack shouted back from where Darren already knew he was working out. “Or hire someone to do it for fuck sake, you’re loaded!”
Darren pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He wasn’t going to get mad, he wasn’t. It would help anything, yet all he wanted to do still was scream at his ungrateful son. “If you’re going to be a lazy little shit Jack then I’m going out! I’ll be back in a few hours.” He shouted back at his son as he made his way back inside and through the house. Cooling off was needed, and Darren had other ideas of how he could get what he wanted this Christmas…
~~~
A few hours later…
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“You want us to do what, Dad?” Jack asked from his position on the sofa, barely able to believe what his father was suggesting.
Darren shrugged. He’d been out shopping at a particular occult shop he knew of hidden away in the centre of the city for just the thing to get what he needed. Now he had it, swapping with his son was actually possible.
“You heard me. I want to swap bodies with you for the Christmas break.” He said simply.
It was a simple enough suggestion, and it wasn’t like he’d spoken in riddles or anything either. His son was home for Christmas break and with his usual manically busy social calendar wanted nothing more than to spend the two weeks relaxing and doing absolutely nothing. His father had other ideas though, namely the jobs around the house that needed doing. Repairs that needed to be made; furniture that needed to be moved; all things that became infinitely easier with his jock of a son around to help. Darren was past his prime, having gained more weight than he would have liked thanks to an injury that stopped him working out as much as he used to, and his advancing age.
“But that’s not even possible Dad?! And even if it was, why would I want to do that?” Jack continued to protest. “I don’t want to be you, no offence but I’ve worked too hard to suddenly get older and fatter!”
“Well it’s that or you get up off your ass and help me with the jobs that need doing, I’ve told you that already. You know I can’t do them on my own, so if you’re staying here for Christmas instead of with your friends then I expect you to at least help a little.” Darren folded his arms and frowned at his son. “Or, you can laze around in my body as much as you want to, and I’ll use yours to do everything that needs doing around here. Won’t make a difference to you if all you’re doing is sitting around watching TV and jerking off, maybe you can even do me a favour and get me in better shape.” 
“DAD!!” Jack blushed furiously at being called out by his father of all people. They were both men at the end of the day, but that just made it more embarrassing at his father’s willingness to call him out. “You really… Eugh.” 
Darren reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pair of identical rings, then tossed one at his son. “Put that on and we’ll swap for the holiday or get off your ass, it’s that simple.”
Jack caught the ring with one hand then frowned at it. He barely understood what his Dad was going on about with all this talk of being in his body. His Dad came out with some strange things at the best of times, but this was the strangest of all of them. Still, if it was a choice between proving his dad was talking shit again and not doing that, Jack knew what he’d pick. His old man was just trying to scare him into not being lazy, that was all. 
The second Jack slipped the ring on, his head felt fuzzy. There was nothing else though, no sudden swap or anything like that. Because of course there wasn’t, Jack knew it was all bullshit. 
“Ha, how about that? Lying after all Dad, what h-”
The world lurched around Jack as his father put the other ring on. One minute he was sitting on the sofa, the next he was across the room looking back at his own smirking face. Everything felt wrong, felt heavy and hairy in all the wrong places. Worn out when he’d always felt full of energy usually. 
“Got something to say now Jack?” He heard his own body saying. “Or, maybe I should be calling you Dad now for the holidays, since we wouldn’t want anyone to know anything is amiss.”
Jack’s mouth hung open in shock. He’d really done it, his asshole of a father had actually stolen his body! “What?? What the actual fuck??” Jack looked down at the slightly chubby body of his father he now resided in. “No. No way you can do this to me Dad, I can’t be you!”
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Darren stood up in his son’s younger body, feeling better than he had in 20 years. “I can and I did. I told you what would happen if you put the ring on, and it happened. Now they won’t come off until the holiday is up, so have fun being a lazy shit in my body Dad, I’m going to finally sort the house out.”
All Jack could do was stand and watch his own body saunter off past him into the kitchen. A few sounds echoed out from there as he tried to process all of this and how tired he felt all of a sudden, the clink of metal making him think his dad was probably grabbing the tool he kept under the sink. He even tried to pull the ring off, but sure as his father had said it wasn’t going to budge. He was really stuck as some fat, hairy old guy!
Meanwhile, as Jack tried to come to terms with what had happened, his father in his body was off already starting work. Already he had the motivation from his now young, fit body to get on with things, which was quite the change to his usual feelings. Many years ago a serious sporting injury had knocked him out for a while and taken him off the competitive athlete path; whilst that had led him into a very lucrative career otherwise he still regretted how he’d fallen off the sporting wagon. Now he was both young and fit again he felt wonderful, reminded of what he’d lost. 
~~~
The next few days consisted of a lot of hard work from Darren. Amed with his son’s body, he surprised himself with how fast he got everything done. He had originally expected it to take days and days, hence setting the duration to the whole holiday. Yet, after only a few days he had pretty much everything on his very long list done. Snow was cleared, the living room had been completely rearranged, as had the attic. Repairs had been made that’d been needing done for longer than he liked, and he’d even cleaned a few things he hadn’t realised needed it. 
All that left him with far more time on his hands than he’d originally planned. Days and days left when he thought he wouldn’t have any time free. So, much to his son’s annoyance Darren decided to go out. 
“See you later Dad! I’m going out for a bit, I won’t be late back!” He called before he ran out the door and left his son alone. 
Jack wanted to punch his Dad as he heard him leave, and he would’ve if it wasn’t for it being his own body. All these past few days his father had been flaunting his body as he did all the work around the house. Dressed in almost nothing so he didn’t get his son’s clothes dirty or so he claimed, reminding Jack every second the swap he’d accidentally gone through. And now he had the nerve to go out and flaunt Jack’s body as if it were his own, even still insisting on calling him Dad.
Jack hadn’t been slacking though. Far from it. He was determined to prove his old man wrong and make the best of all this, so he’d taken to working out like crazy. Pushing himself as hard as he could to prove it wasn’t the body that kept his father back, but his attitude. He’d made good progress too, surprising even himself. He’d lifted heavier and for longer than he could in his own body, and all it’d taken was pushing through the struggle and pain at the beginning.
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The once nice thing about the swap was Jack could finally eat whatever he wanted without caring. It wasn't his body and his Dad had long let himself go, so besides working out hard to prove anyone could do it, Jack let himself indulge in some of the things he didn't usually eat. A strict diet kept his body in perfect shape, but since his dad’s shape was already rounder with fat than it was muscle, what was the harm? And, he had to admit that the maturity was nice. The few occasions he did have to go out to deal with something at his Dad’s job or go grocery shopping, no one treated him like some annoying delinquent kid. He wasn’t seen as a youth around to cause trouble, he was a respected member of the community.
He did get curious as the week went on though. He’d given up removing the ring, it was clear enough that was never going to happen, but he did wonder where his father had got them from. He knew his Dad had connections in his fancy business world, he’d dealt with a few of them on his Dad’s behalf these last few days, but he didn’t know where he’d actually found magical rings capable of forcing them into each other’s bodies. 
So, instead of spending every waking moment shouting at his father running around partying in his body, Jack did some digging. His son was out of the house enough sleeping his way through the city in the run up to Christmas, so he had plenty of time to search online for any sign of where something like this could be acquired.
At first, nothing. 
No amount of searching high or low online turned up any results about magical body swapping rings you could buy; a few erotic stories but nothing real. 
So he changed tactics. 
He remembered the day his father had come back home with the rings after an argument, so he tried to retrace his dad’s steps. Checked his phone, asked people his dad was friends with, anything. And there he had it. Tucked away in his dad’s apps, the last saved location his dad must have used for directions to wherever he got them from. And it was local. Within the city, right in the centre tucked away between two massive office buildings. It would have been easy for his father to slip out to the place and be back within a few hours, all under the pretence of getting coffee with this friend of his and talking business like he’d claimed before he left.
All Jack had to do now was go back there for answers.
~~~
The next day…
Darren was once again on his way out. He’d loved the past week in this younger body, and with all the free time had already got a few regular hookups from his first few days clubbing. Now he was off again to find another one; this younger body was deliciously insatiable and far better than his older one. 
“Son, can I borrow you for a minute before you go? Just something I want to check with you.” His old body’s voice came from behind him just as he’d been about to leave. 
He sighed. He was glad at least Jack had taken this so well in the last few days instead of being angry. Even joined in on Darren’s plan to refer to each other as father and son on the off chance they had guests over or went out anywhere together so they didn’t slip. As much as he was eager to get going and find someone else to fuck, he could at least have a five minute chat. Besides, if it was yet another question about his job he’d need to answer it.
He turned and smiled at his son in his old body, one he wasn’t finding himself missing in the slightest. “What is it Dad?”
Jack returned the smile, but it wasn’t a kind one. “You see, I went back to that little shop you bought these rings from.”
Darren’s eyes widened in panic knowing his son had found the place, which just made Jack smirk. 
“Left the location in your google maps, didn’t think I’d look and see? Anyway, I went back there. Had a lovely chat with the old woman behind the counter, who told me all about these rings. And you know what she said? Swapping bodies is just a side effect of their main purpose. They can do far, far more than that.”
Darren went white as a sheet. He’d been galavanting off flaunting his new body and living it up, all without a care for how he’d stolen his son’s body and was rubbing it in. Now that brashness was coming back to bite him in the ass. Only, he had no idea how badly. He hadn’t bothered to ask about them or even pay the shopkeeper much attention, just dropped a large sum of money for two rings that would do the job he wanted. Now, as he’d been on the way to yet another random hookup, he’d been cornered.
“What… What can they do?” He gulped.
Jack smirked. “Why don’t I show you instead of explaining it? I’ll warn you though, you’ll have to cancel your hookup…”“W-Wait, you don’t have t-” Darren started, but it was too late. Jack had already done something to his ring that made the matching one on his finger burn hot.
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Darren looked up from his finger, only to watch in horror as his own fat body seemed to shed the weight it’s carried in seconds. The body he’d rid himself off by swapping with his son, the one he’d been secretly hoping he’d never have to be back in, starting to change before his very eyes. Gone was the round belly, gone were the flabby arms and sagging chest. Gone even were some of the greying hairs in his beard and the more worn lines of age that’d developed. 
Instead, a beast of a man was emerging. 
Ripped all over, the kind of muscle you only got from a lifetime of dedication. It was the type of body his son Jack would have grown into when he reached Darren’s age if he kept up the same gym routine and they hadn’t been all swapped around. It was no less old either, instead looked like an older man that actually knew how to take care of himself. Ate right, took care of his skin, kept his hair and beard well groomed. What made him look even bigger though Darren realised was just how close they’d got and-
“Wait, when did I get over here??” Darren said when he found himself standing in front of his old body, their ringed hands clasped together.
Jack pulled a cheeky looking innocent expression. He knew exactly what was going on, but he wasn’t going to say. The pair were merging together, the younger body that had once belonged to Jack being consumed to mould the older one into its perfect potential state. Soon enough there would only be one person living in this house, one perfectly handsome older man instead of a fat old guy and his son.
Instead of letting any of that on though, Jack watched as his father’s panic only grew. He tried to pull away, but that only brought the pair closer and closer together. Jack’s older body was becoming a far more muscular and ruggedly handsome version of what it had once been; its potential finally unlocked. Jack wouldn’t miss his old body, not in the long run, it’d be gone and his father with it to make all these improvements, but it was so worth it.
Darren found himself getting closer and closer as his son’s body towered over him more and more, all until he felt himself slip away completely. He hadn’t noticed his body fading and shrinking in his panic watching his old body change, and now he had it was far too late. Because he didn’t have a body anymore he realised. Somehow in the shuffle his body had vanished, yet he could still hear and see and feel the sight of Jack’s older body as if he’d been kneeling in front of it.
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“Alright in there Dad?” Jack’s voice came from somewhere above before Darren felt an entire hand wrapping around his being. “You can’t talk, I know, so you’ll have to sit in my balls and listen to me, alright?”
“You see Dad, I’ve learned a thing or two since being forced into your body.” Jack said from his new mature, ripped body as he ran his hands over it. “I’ve learned that being a slightly older man isn’t so bad, especially when it’s one that comes with so much money. I’ve learned that you were an asshole for stealing my body from me and trying to pass it off as your own, so I’m doing one better.” He gave his large balls a squeeze, knowing what remained of his father’s consciousness was stored away in there. “So I’m taking your life with a few upgrades. You never had a kid you got stuck with, not as far as this new you is concerned. I’m a single bachelor, a Daddy that’s going to have boys and girls alike falling at his feet.”
Jack glanced down at the interlinked rings on his finger. Two halves of a whole, he didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before. He grabbed it, took a breath, then pulled them both off and dropped it on the coffee table with a soft clatter of metal against glass. 
“Maybe I’ll have a kid one day when I feel like settling down Dad, but until then you can watch me show you what your life could have been.” Jack, now officially his father Darren, grinned. He was going to make the absolute most of his new life as Darren.
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seresinhangmanjake · 6 months
Text
The One I Want
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader
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Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.
Notes: This is part one of a new series.
Warnings: Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.
Words: 1622
Masterlist
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You’re going to be new again. You’re so terribly tired of being new. But that's how it’s always been. Never in one place long enough to be considered a usual in town. Never a constant in anyone’s life. No. You’re the new girl, because people don’t give you a choice to be anything else. 
You learned it quite young. People’s lingering glances have nothing to do with curiosity or intrigue. They don’t stare because you’re particularly beautiful or unique-looking. Rather, they watch you so they may judge and criticize and tease. You learned it doesn’t fade as you age. People are people, and not all of them grow. Unfortunately for you, those people are scattered about the world as much as the good-hearted ones. But the good-hearted never approach you. They never look your way. 
Eventually, as it goes, the life you’re living, surrounded by those people, becomes too much. You get tired again. You leave that disappointing town. You find somewhere new. You repeat. The many places you’ve been have become tainted, and now you’re left with few. So few that two nights ago, instead of four different cities scribbled on notecards to choose from, there were three. The options are slimming. You put the cards in a bowl, closed your eyes, and now you’re a California resident, for however long that may be.
It’s extreme, you sometimes think—writing off a whole city or town when they’re full of other neighborhoods with different people who have fresh pairs of eyes—but it makes you feel better. You can say to yourself that you no longer live in that city or town. That city or town was an old life. 
In your new life—born from the moment you crossed the state line all of four hours ago—you’ve yet to feel out of place. Things have kept from souring. No wrong turns. No bad weather. A new apartment awaiting you from an ad you’d answered the day prior. The ad included a roommate you don’t want, but it’s cheap and all you can afford until you get a job. 
It’s also a risk. This “Jake” guy could be as bad as the rest, but there’s only one way to find out. And if he is bad—well, you’ve got two more notecards in your bag.
It’s nicer than you expected, and that brings forth a hearty handful of questions. Why would this guy need a roommate if he lived here? Why is the rent so cheap? And when you finally knock on the door, Jake is actually…a woman?
You do a quick scan of her face and form. She’s beautiful in nearly every conventional way. Her features fit in all the right places on her face. Her body is proportional, filling out clothes the way they are meant to be filled out. She’s intimidating. Not the roommate you expected, and certainly not a roommate you can handle having. She might very well be lovely, but you don’t need a daily reminder of what you are not. 
“Are you…Jake?” you ask.
“Natasha. You’re in the right place,” she replies, moving aside to make room for you to pass the threshold. 
Looking around, you almost gasp. The interior matches the grandness of its exterior wrapping. Lofted ceilings; natural light; walls painted in thick, throughout coats so as not to allow the slightest hint of their previous shade to peek through. It officially confirms what you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge before—you’ve grown too accustomed to living in dumps. From the shine of the floor alone, you know you’ve never held yourself to this guy’s standards. 
Will I have to meet those standards? 
“Jake couldn’t be here so he asked me to let you in,” Natasha says. “The key is on the counter.”
“Right, um–” You swallow, unsure how to ask what could easily be interpreted as rude. “And this Jake guy, is he…”
“Not a creep,” she promises with a light smile, “Just irritating.”
“That’s a relief.”
“If you like arrogant pilots.”
You almost tell her that a know-it-all plane man is probably one of the last people you intend to worry about—falling in place next to old ladies, babies, and tiny dogs—but you keep your mouth shut. She doesn’t need your story. And if Jake is a pilot, then it seems safe to say he won’t be around enough to bother figuring you out, either. 
“I can handle a pilot.” As long as he keeps to himself—Another thing you don’t say. 
The brunette nods. “Then this might work out after all,” she says before giving you a once-over. “He’ll definitely be surprised by you, though."
That stops you, nudging you back into a past you’re trying to forget. It makes your breath catch in your throat. Your ears begin to thump from a quickening pulse. “What do you mean by that?”
Chocolate brown eyes widen briefly before relaxing back into an indifferent mask. “Nothing. I’m sure you’ll get along fine,” she says. Another smile. Same as before. Then, “If you’re okay, I actually have somewhere to be.”
Releasing a tense exhale, you plaster on a smile of your own. “I’m good. Thank you.”
She nods and makes her way toward the door, wrapping slender fingers around the brushed nickel knob. “Jake said to let you know he’ll be back late. So you have some time to get acquainted with the place.” 
She twists the knob and steps through the open frame. When the door has nearly eclipsed the remainder of her body, she pauses and her eyes meet yours. “I hope you'll like it here. It’ll be nice to have another woman around to dilute the testosterone,” she says. Then she’s gone. 
Standing in the apartment alone, you feel like an intruder. Though Natasha told you to get acquainted, you can't imagine going on the hunt for your bedroom, or unpacking your clothes, or reclining on the couch with a snack from the refrigerator. Something in you says it's better to stand in the same spot until your roommate returns to lead you about the place himself. If only you knew when that would be.
The only thing clueing you in that, at some point, you’d fallen asleep in the armchair by the bookshelf is the key-in-lock sound now stirring you awake. You jolt up out of the chair to find the sun had set so long ago that not a sliver of orange on the horizon remains. How many hours had been wasted making up for lost sleep when you should’ve been rehearsing how to respond to all possible reactions your roommate might have upon seeing you?
It doesn’t matter. You’re out of time now. 
You’ve barely readjusted your shirt to hide the exposed line of your bra by the time the door opens. But the man who walks through is far from what you imagined, and you had imagined plenty. 
You wait for a second, breath trapped in lungs. But then you realize he has yet to notice you, so with curious eyes, you use his unaware moment to truly notice him. 
He’s tall, broad, with short sandy blond hair and a jawline you’ve not seen on any man outside of a TV screen or glossy magazine page. Sharp like etched marble. His stubble is a day's worth, and while you suspect it’s not a representation of his usual appearance, you can’t say it doesn’t suit him well. 
Through pink parted lips you hear the exhale of his sigh, and suddenly see from the slump of his shoulders as he removes his jacket to hang on a nearby hook that he’s as tired as you are. Likely for very different reasons, but tired all the same. An affliction of sorts you understand too well.
When he runs a hand down his face, as if to wipe off the exhaustion like a wet rag removing dirt from skin, you get your first full image of him. Before it was just his profile. That was enough to tell you plenty, but straight on he’s…more. From the hallway light, you catch a glimpse of the green hue of his eyes. You notice the tanness of his arms–not natural, but from spending too much time in the sun–and the veins that trail along them like rivers in the earth. 
You’re suddenly not so sure what you’ve gotten yourself into. Men like him you’ve dealt with before, and it doesn’t often do you well. However, you promised yourself that with each town, you’ll pretend your past pain doesn’t exist so you may approach the new people and places without preconceived opinions. It’s a struggle of a promise to keep, but you do your best. And having just arrived, it would be silly not to try to do your best here as well. 
Those green eyes finally find yours and he stops short, almost stumbling as if he forgot to expect you. But he recovers quickly, standing straight and sturdy to confirm his height. His slightly slackened jaw coupled with the stare he gives you, however, doesn’t quite manage the same impressive recovery rate. His face can’t hide his surprise. 
A throat-clearing is followed by, “You’re my new roommate?”
You can’t tell if there’s judgment in his tone. Disappointment, maybe? He’s still staring. 
“Yes,” you say calmly, giving him a chance to not be the prick you suspect he might be. Don’t break your promise, you internally scold.
His gaze lingers on each feature of your face. Eyes pause at your lips before traveling lower; much lower until he reaches your toes then makes his way back up to where he started. 
A beat passes. He swallows hard. Then that deep voice, having turned a bit husky, mutters a soft, “Fuck.”
---
A/N: again, this is a new series. So part 2 soon. I hope you liked it :)
tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @tgmavericklover @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @penguin876
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orphicdreamers-wp · 4 months
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It’s Not Christmas Without You— Quinn Hughes
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Summary: Your seasonal depression gets the best of your relationship leading to an awkward Christmas
Content Warnings: Seasonal depression, panic & anxiety attacks, use of antidepressants, ocd, chemical imbalance, angsty hughes brothers
Pairing; Ex Gf! Reader x Quinn Hughes
September
You had never quite understood why your brain felt so hardwired to the point you couldn’t comprehend anything happening around you. It affected everything you did, but no one could put their finger on why sometimes things got to be much for you it brought you to tears. For the most part, your boyfriend Quinn tried to help you but when the weather in Vancouver shifted just as he’d been named captain. He just couldn’t do it anymore, he tried but it was draining him.
You sat cross legged in the center of Quinn’s living room, reorganizing his CD collection for the third time this week. Quinn sighed as he entered his apartment, coming home from a rough roadie, all he wanted was to take a scorching shower and talk to you while you guys laid in his bed watching a cheesy movie. He didn’t utter a word as he walked past to his room and dropped his stuff off before returning to his living room and letting out a sigh, “The CDS haven’t magically moved since Tuesday dollface.”
You ignored your boyfriend, again. Quinn blew out a breath he’d been holding in for god knows how long, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He expected you to protest against him trying to break up with him, but you didn’t. Which somehow made Quinn more upset at the entire ordeal, “So your fine with just throwing away the last 6 years?” You kept quiet, knowing that if you dared to speak you would say something that you and Quinn couldn’t come back from. So you stayed silent as you stood up and slipped on your shoes and grabbed your coat and walked out of Quinn’s apartment and his life.
You returned to your shared loft with your friend Tess and finally let your composure fall. A wretched sob ripped through your chest as you leaned against the door and slid to sit against the wall. Tess hurried out of her bedroom and was at your side in seconds, “Oh honey. It’s okay.” You felt like someone was wrapping barbed wire around your throat, “I can’t, I just don’t know what’s wrong with me. Something isn’t right Tess.” Your breathing began to quicken as your chest tightened. Tess rubbed your back reassuringly, “I got you.” You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. Once you were calm you turned to Tess, “Quinn and I broke up. I think I need to go home and get help.” And that was exactly what you did.
You went back to Toronto and moved back into your childhood bedroom, went to a neurologist and found out that your brain had an insufficient amount of neurotransmitters which could play part in your moods. The doctor told you that you needed to boost your serotonin and dopamine levels and prescribed you antidepressants and referred you to a women’s mental health clinic. You noticed slowly that your mood became less negative and you were able to focus better. But you also noticed that you began to get thinner and no matter what you did it never seemed like you gained weight.
December
You were reluctant to go to the Hughes Christmas dinner, although Ellen had reassured you that you were more than welcome. You still had your bad days and didn’t know if being around Quinn would make you snap and you didn’t want to snap at him. So you told your mother you’d think about it but that she should go. Which she did. You mother and Ellen were in grossed in a conversation over linens when Luke finally mentioned you, “So I guess she really doesn’t have anything to say to you Quinn. She would never miss out on Dad’s meatballs.” Quinn shot his brother a glare as your mother spoke softly, “She’s just having a hard time right now, her meds are messing with her.” Ellen smiled solemnly, “How is she adjusting to her antidepressants?”
Quinn looked taken aback learning your on antidepressants now, “Is she okay?” Your mom smiled as she lifted her wine glass to her lips, “Her doctor told her she doesn’t have sufficient neurotransmitters and it’s a chemical imbalance in her brain that’s made her feel like this all these years. The doctor said there’s a good chance coupled with the harsh weather and seasonal depression that’s what made her feel so poorly. Nothing you could have done would have helped Quinn.” Jack rolled his eyes subtly, “So because she’s mentally not okay, we’re supposed to be fine with her destroying Quinn?” Ellen glared at her middle child, “Jack! If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say sit.”
You stared at the stack of wrapped gifts you had gotten for each member of the Hughes family. You sighed as you slid off the couch and pulled on a dark red sweater and some jeans and took the gifts to your car and made your way to the Hughes family home. You were unsure of what would happen when you walked in but you were facing your fears today. You rang the doorbell, not expecting Quinn to be on the other side of the door.
His eyes held an unreadable expression that you had grown to miss. You were almost positive that you had lost your voice when he spoke, “Hey.” You smiled, “Hi, you look uh great.” Quinn rubbed his neck as a deep blush rolled over his cheeks, “Thanks. You do too.” He took some of the gifts as you I walked inside the house and placed your gifts with the rest of the gifts under the tree. You slipped your coat off and hung it in the closet with the others. Quinn frowned ever so slightly when he took note of how the jeans that had once hugged your body in all the right places were loose on you and how you looked at him like you might break if you looked at him long enough.
Ellen’s voice rang out from the dining room, “Who was it honey?” You smiled warmly as you entered the dining room behind Quinn, “Hi.” Ellen’s eyes glimmered with excitement as she hopped up and pulled you into a bone crushing hug, “We’re so glad you could make it after all. Right guys?” The Hughes men muttered out agreements. You sat down at the only empty seat which, as the universe was punishing you, was directly across from Jack with Quinn sitting beside you. Conversation flowed between you and everyone besides Jack and Quinn.
Jack spoke up in condescending tone, “So Y/N what have you been up to since you and Quinn broke up?” Jack let out a groan as Quinn swiftly kicked him underneath the table. You felt your smile drop, “I moved back home like 3 days after. I’ve been getting a lot of help. Working on understanding my feelings.” Jack hummed, “Seeing anyone? You sure are slimming down.” You tensed as you drew in a deep breath, “Nope. Wouldn’t be fair to a poor guy. I’m still in love with someone and I’m not sure relationships are for me. But can we just talk about your game against the Red Wings? I mean I was on my seat the entire time.”
Jack’s smirk fell, “You still watch my games?” You shrugged, “I watched Trev kick your ass. I also watched Quinn hand the Sharks the biggest loss. I didn’t stop watching hockey because I got broken up with.” You melted into Quinn’s touch as he placed a hand on your thigh. He mouthed inaudibly, ‘Thank you’ Dinner ended and Ellen insisted on going straight to presents. You smiled warmly as Jack and Luke opened their gifts from you. You You played more into a joke with Jack. It was a shirt that read ‘Straight Outta The Penalty Box.’ Jack’s gift sent his brother’s into laughter while Jack sent you a playful eye roll, “Now I know she actually watches my games still.” Luke’s gift seemed to be more fitting for him, he opened the box and ran his fingers over the soft tie that was adorned with red hockey sticks, “Thank you.” You smiled as Quinn picked up his gift from you, “I didn’t know what to get you so with my luck you’ll probably hate it.”
Quinn opened the box and his eyes softened as he looked at the gift, “You remembered. Why would I hate this?” He pulled out the large cooling weighted blanket. You barely remembered him mentioning wanting one. Apparently your subconscious remembered. Quinn’s eyes softened as you began to tidy up the wrapping paper as everyone continued to open gifts.
Without being noticed Quinn slipped into his childhood bedroom and opened his bag and pulled out a small gift wrapped box. He slipped it into his pocket and returned to the living room. His eyes immediately were on you as you clasped a necklace around his mother’s neck. Soon enough all the gifts were opened and Quinn spoke warmly, “I actually have a gift for you Y/N.” Your eyes widened, “O-okay.” Quinn slipped the small box from his pocket and placed it in your hand. By the size alone you knew it was jewelry of some sort.
You opened the box and your eyes widened and swelled with tears, “You can’t. Not with how horrible I was to you.” Quinn shook his head, “No I can. I have loved you since I have known you. I don’t care if your going through the worst thing possible. I love you and I just wanna be there for you no matter what. For the rest of my life. I want to be your husband. Marry me.” Your eyes welled, “I don’t know if I can give you the life you want Quinn.” Quinn shook his head as he pulled you closer to him, which you didn’t think was humanly possible, “The life I want is waking up to you pressing your ice cold feet to my legs to warm them up, the life I want is holding your purse so you can stop and pet every stray cat you see. The life I want is anytime and everything as long as you are there. You are the one good thing in my life.” You sniffled, “Fine I’ll marry you.”
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rafescurtainbangz · 3 months
Text
Distractions - Rafe Cameron One Shot +18
Minor DNI
Frat!Rafe x Female Reader
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Ask:
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Eek!!! Thanks for your ask! Frat!Rafe has a special place in my cewchie heart. I hope you're having a great weekend!
1.5k
Masterlist
Tag list
Tags: @imyourdaninow @humanvampire13 @akashababy @dckweed @ashamedtobeawhitemanswhore27
@marahgubler @joannamuns9n @h34rtsformilli @romaescapes @jayla @randymeeksistheloml @waywardsoul113 @gri959 @redhead1180
Warnings: SMUT, language, name-calling, drinking
Tiddie fucking, pet names (baby girl, rafey, baby), choking, spitting, tit slapping, cum play, degradation, Rafe is distracted, reader teases Rafe
✨Lightly edited✨
Rafe’s POV:
Four years and not a single loss, and here I stand, three cups away from defeat because I can’t stop staring at her fuckin’ tits.
“For fuck sake, Cameron. Can you-”
“Focus, Top? I am.” I snip in frustration as her friend hugs her from the side, pushing her breasts together. I swallow hard, trying my best to concentrate in the same breath as my defense. It's useless. Her body was made for sex. Made for me. Look at those fucking tits. She's mine. Sex... All the fucking time. Whenever I want. Just gotta get her alone.
“You're a mess,” Topper chuckles as he pulls yet another SOLO cup off the rack, lifting it to his lips
She lofts the ball, landing it in the front cup. Kill me now. Her tits move with her, bouncing as she celebrates with her sorority sister, blissfully unaware of the anguish she’s putting me through as well as the pressure of the hard-on in my jeans.
One of my frat brothers walks by, resting a hand on the small of her back. She looks over her shoulder; his gaze drifting from her cleavage to her eyes. She smiles brightly as he feeds her some bullshit line. “Time out!” I boom from across the table, pulling her attention back to me.
Top turns to face me, but I swerve around him, working my way to the other end as her doe eyes match mine, widening as they stare up at me. “You okay, Rafe?” She asks sweetly; her lashes flutter innocently, back slightly arched. The muscles in my body tighten as I hold back my primal urges to gawk. I scrunch my nose and suck my teeth in annoyance. “Rafe?”
“Uh yeah,” I breathe as I lean in a little closer. “You gotta stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Sure,” I sneer. “You have any clue how distracting you are? It's driving me insane.” She nibbles at her plump bottom lip, biting back a smile. “Wait… You do? Don't you?”
“M’sorry,” she sighs in a pouty voice, not a single ounce of actually “sorry” in her sorry.
“After we win, you're comin’ with me.”
“To do what?” She giggles as she steps a little closer.
“Like you don't know,” I chuckle breathily. “Someone needs to teach you a lesson. Nobody teases me. And, I don't fuckin’ lose.” She cocks an eyebrow at me, challenging me with her gaze.
“Looks like you're about to lose, Rafey,” she taunts as she nods to the table.
“Easy, princess-”
“Hey, uhh, we good?” Topper cuts in.
“Yeah, Top. We're great,” I smile, never losing eye contact with her. My frat brother walks by again, surveying the scene, giving me the perfect opportunity to stake my claim. I clear the void, pulling her lips to mine. Fuck, she’s sweet. She grabs my shirt, twisting it in her fingers, pulling me even closer. Her boobs press against my chest; the feeling alone making me want to end it all. “You're mine when we're done. Clear?” I mumble against her lips, making her smile again.
“You're cocky,” she breathes.
“M’cocky now. Huh?”
“I love it,” she sighs.
“Mmm… mine. You're mine. A’ight?”
I guide her back to her side before walking away. Rubbing a shit-eating grin off my lips, I do my best to get my head back in the game. I'm having her regardless… This is just foreplay for me.
She smiles at me from across the table, gloss-lipped and stunning, her hair freshly tossed to the side. Her cheeks blush as I give her a little wink. And, just like that, the tables have turned. She wets her ball, flicking off the water, aiming as her tongue pokes out in concentration. She hurls it too far, hitting me in the thigh, making me wince in fake pain. She rolls her eyes and scoffs, her already pink cheeks reddening further.
I lift my finger, tapping on my temple. “I'm in your head,” I mouth through a smile. She shakes her head ‘no’, crossing her arms across her chest. Fuck me. Her tits practically spill out of the top of her little party dress, an obscene amount of cleavage, derailing my focus yet again. Her eyes fall, trailing my fixation, landing on her breasts as well, making me swallow hard. Her lashes flick to mine, fully aware of just what part of her was truly that distracting that I had to pause the game.
“Am I’m in yours, Rafey?” She mouths in retort as she drops her hands, resting her palms against the table, leaning in as her eyes stay zeroed in on mine.
“Holy shit,” Topper mumbles, falling victim to her tactics as well.
“For fuck sake, Top-”
“Can you focus,” he finishes my sentence; roles reversed. “Yeah… Yeah. Have fun with her, buddy.”
++++++++
“Goddamn, baby,” I groan as I cup as much of her tits as I can get in my hands, squeezing them tight. She reaches down, looping her tiny fingers around the string of her thong. “Stop,” I smile. This round’s about me. It ain't about you. You lost. I won… I get my prize, and I'm fuckin’ your tits.”
“Rafe-”
“Shut up,” I chuckle teasingly. “Shut. Up. This is a lesson. A’ight. M’teaching you a lesson. And, later, when I got you cryin’ and whinin’ for my dick,” I groan as I draw my boxer off my body. “I might let you bounce on it.”
“Rafey, please…”
“Nobody teases me, y/n,” I smile as I tuck some hair behind her ear.
My lips lock with hers as I lift her off her feet and into my arms, gripping her round ass in my hands, feeling as she grinds her needy pussy into me. The soaked material wets my warm skin, teasing me further.
Tits now… Pussy later.
🩷 Y/N’s POV:
Rafe tosses you down onto the bed, boobs bouncing on impact as he licks his lips hungrily. “M’so wet, Rafe. Please,” you whimper as your fingers wrap around his rock-hard cock, tracing all nine inches to his fat head. His ab muscles flex tightly as you run your finger across his tip, collecting his precum before bringing it between your lips.
“Trust me,” Rafe smiles as he reaches over to his nightstand, snagging out some lube, “I felt that pussy, princess. You're a mess. Shame you were such a cock-tease. Hmm? Teasin’ me with these-” Rafe’s massive hands palm your tits, pushing them together before gliding his ruddy cock in between. His eyes roll back in his skull, practically growling at the sensation. Rafe sits down on top of you, crushing you with his weight. He lets out a sigh of relief, like that's all he wanted.
His parted lips curl into a smile as he watches you crank your neck, tongue snaking around his swollen cock head. “Fuck. You’re a little slut, f’me. Aren't you?”
“I am, Rafe. Holy shit,” you whimper as you cup your tits, pressing them together for him.
"You look so good... Oh my god," he moans as he draws out, quickly pushing himself back in. "Perfect tits. Fuck, baby girl," Rafe hails as he starts to roll his body; his aching tip popping through your cleavage each time, glistening with lube.
"You're so big," you whisper, making a smirk play on his parted lips. "I could make you feel so good.”
“Got no doubt about that,” he rasps, thrusting into you at the perfect pace, making you envious of your own boobs.
"Fuck, Rafe!" You whine as he gives you a show, his long cock gliding in and out again and again, making your cunt throb.
"You're gonna bounce on me later. Yeah? Grind you pretty little pussy while I suck on your tits." He slaps your breast, making you squeal.
"Y-Yes, daddy," you stammer. He smacks your other tit making your pussy clench around nothing as he continues to stroke.
Your thighs squeeze together, the visual stimulation enough to get you there as you watch Rafe use your body like a toy. You feel heat growing in your stomach as your thighs begin to shake.
He snatches your wrist, forcing it lower. “Play with your pussy, baby. I know you wanna.” You drop your legs to the mattress, splaying your thighs as you push your panties to the side; fingers rolling on your clit, making you moan. You grip your tit with one hand, Rafe clutching the other as he picks up speed, your body embarrassingly close to cumming already.
Rafe’s other hand comes around your throat squeezing tightly, making your eyes widen, sending you over the edge. "Oh fuck, Rafe!" You cry out, pussy fluttering wildly.
"Jesus.” He lets out a wicked laugh. “All from watching me. Huh? That’s some whore shit right there. Fuck. You look even prettier when you cum," he moans as his thrusts get messy. “Open your mouth, slut. Swallow it all. Yeah?”
You flatten your tongue as Rafe rises up on his knees, towering over you as he fists his cock fast. His eyes strain to stay open as he cums on your breasts and neck, your chin, up to your open mouth. You swallow what you're given, running your middle finger along your chin as Rafe tries to steady his breathing, sucking your digit clean, making him smile.
He grips your boobs in his large hands again, swirling his tongue on your soft skin, circling your nipples, licking a line through your cleavage, cleaning his mess before spitting it in your mouth. You swallow again as his beautiful blue eyes stare into yours. Rafe kisses you deeply, tongue reeling; the sweetness of his lips paired with his salty cum.
Rafe rolls you on top of him, rough fingers trailing down your spine as a smile stretches on his lips. “Lesson learned, princess?” He mumbles between kisses.
“No…” You sigh before sucking off his bottom lip nice and slow.
“No?” He chuckles.
“Guess you're just gonna have to try again.”
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Petrichor. | joel miller x f!reader, 4.1k
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Summary: You underestimate yourself but Joel doesn't like what's his to be degrated. Unless, he's the one doing it. He makes sure you know your place.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, allusion to suicidal thoughts BUT it's a misunderstanding, low self esteem!reader, established relationship, unspecified age gap (make it you own😏), dom!Joel, sub!reader, dd/lg vibes, pet names(darlin', baby, sweetheart, little girl, good girl), degradation kink, praise kink, size kink, daddy kink, oral m!receiving, masturbation f!receiving, dacryphilia, pussy slapping (quite a few), cum eating, aftercare, as always let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: First of all, thank you for your love on my little drabble Take me, I didn't expect it at all and I'm so glad you liked it, it really means the world! 🙈 Now, for this fella here, I swear to god it was supposed to be a drabble, I even named its draft as such, because I'm so decisive and steady.😂 I don’t know what happened, it started as a pwp but of course I had to go and pepper it with some feelings.🙄 And then @iamasaddie had a smut fic prompt including “Baby, you know, Daddy only hurts you because you look so pretty when you cry.” line and it fitted so damn well, like Joel's cock fits in reader's pussy, so there's that. 🥵🥵
P.S.: I hate summaries, I hate them, I wish someone else would write them for me. Ok, I love you all, let me know what you think!
Song on repeat: The kooks - Sway
Divider by @saradika-graphics
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Maybe this is your favorite sound in the world, you think as you hear the rain drops hit the -floor to ceiling- windows of your loft.
Your mind wanders to your childhood memories searching for confirmation. And you think that, yes, this is it. So, it makes perfect sense that your favorite scent is that of the soaked soil after raining. Petrichor. You smile softly to yourself.
He seems to notice that. But then, he always does.
He’s on his side facing you, all 5’11” of his magnificent naked body laying on your bed, his head resting on the pillow. One hand under your neck, as you lay flat on your back, the other reaching for your jawline, turning you to face him instead of the window.
You turn to him, gladly, because this, this is your favorite sight in the world. Him. The soft glow from the lights outside is the only source of illumination and he couldn’t be more beautiful than right now. He makes your heart ache instantly. His calm and safe presence in your life is such a juxtaposition to the shadows of your past, it brings a lump in your throat. You swallow it down.
“Why the smile, baby?” he speaks carefully, like he feels the antithesis of the emotions inside you right now. And there it is, at last. This is the answer you’re looking for. This, this is your favorite sound in the world. His voice.
Your palm lands on the hand petting your cheek. “No reason,” you smile to him, “just feeling content.”
“Are you, though?” he insists after a minute, “feeling content?”
“I-, yeah, of course I do, you know that.”
“Do I?”
“I hope you do. You know what you mean to me, what your presence in my life means to me, right?” your voice is lightly wavering, the lump in your throat lurking still. “And- and I’m so happy with my job and my new place and everyth-”
“Why did you choose this place?”
“You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that. From all the places we’ve seen, why this? I saw in your eyes it did something to you.” And if you ever entertained the idea that maybe some things get past him, you do not anymore. You can’t hide from him. And you find that, oddly, liberating.
“Because it’s everything I'm not; I wanted to challenge myself.”
He’s curious now. After all these bits and pieces over these past few months you’re giving him something more. He knows there’s more. “How so?”
“It’s just-”, you roll your eyes in frustration, trying to compare a space to a person, “so open, so bare, no hiding spaces, you know, open floor and everything, I remember when I first walked in it made me feel uneasy, insecure, intimidated. So I rented it.”, you shrug like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Why would you feel all that?”
He raises his head supporting it on his palm as he studies your profile from his side, seeing your struggle, the waterline of your eyes glassing over, the vein on your forehead bulging. There’s so much you want to tell him, confide in him, confess to him, but you don’t know where to begin. How to sum all this shit up.
“I just- I have lived my life without actually living. I just- existed. I compromised, backed down, let myself be led by people who were supposed to be my family and now-” your lips are trembling and you bite your bottom lip to stop it, your throat is closing, you feel this ache, this burning sensation inside of it, like acid through your veins, making you unable to breathe, let alone speak. Your face turns pinkish, the tears threatening to spill now, the sob ready to explode deep from your chest.
“-I just hate myself-” you mouth through an inaudible cry, still deprived of air in your lungs that they feel like they’re gonna collapse.
His legs straddle yours in a moment of panic, his eyes wide, his pupils blown, his body stiff, ready to engage in some kind of fight. He’s leaning above you, his long torso shadows over you, his huge hand cupping the back of your neck and pulls you in a sitting position underneath him. Your hands grab his forearms in confusion. It -he- makes you feel so tiny, which you are compare to him, but even more so, now that his knees are pressing down on the sides of your hips, holding his weight above your lap so he won’t completely crush you, making your body sink deeper into the mattress and suddenly you’re so small, so insignificant, so unnoticed to the rest of the room, of the apartment, of the world. Except from him. His eyes, raging fires, burning yours as they search for meaning, answers, reassurance. His fist is closing and tugging harshly at the hairs on the back of your neck, demanding all of your attention. The tears run freely down your cheeks now on their own volition, years of restrain and pain unleashed in a blink of an eye.
“Tell me I don’t need to fuckin’ worry about you.” he demands in a harsh tone, his expression painted with anger, desperation, agony.
You open your mouth to respond, but you are at loss for words, your thoughts hazy and confused.
“Tell me!” his voice high and urgent, now mirroring his expression, almost breaking.
And you get it now, you really do. The smell of fear, the fear of loss, the loss of existence.
Your eyes widen, your lips trembling again, “No, no!”, you shake your head violently, his grip on your scalp tightening more, in warning. His expression is torn, like the two faces of Janus, his jaw clenched in disbelief, but his eyes pained, begging, pleading for trust.
Your hands fly around his middle, squeezing him, your fingernails nearly tearing his flesh, “I swear Joel, no, that was not what I meant!” you’re desperate now, how could he think that, doesn’t he know what he means to you?
He doesn’t budge, he doesn’t move a muscle, his eyes keep scanning, keep searching. You try to rest your forehead to his stomach now, how massive he is above you and he allows it. His fist unclench from your hair, cupping your neck again tenderly, his mouth kissing the top of your head. Your arms hug him tighter now, pressing your face to his sweaty skin, inhaling his scent, grounding you, your fingers caressing his broad back up and down. “I swear, I swear.” you keep muttering on his skin, your nose deeply pressed against his firm chest now, barely breathing.
He moves both his hands to the sides of your neck, simply holding you and tilting your head up to look at him. He bends forward to touch your lips with his in a soft kiss, just flesh touching flesh. His forehead resting on yours, he sighs deeply, letting all the weight of the world go through his nostrils. “Don’t you ever-”
“I’m sorry Joel, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant, I promise.” you apologize, pressing your chin to his skin, looking up at him. But his eyes are still searching, not letting this one go.
“I’m just pissed it took me so long to wake up. I’m scared I fucked my life up. I’m scared I missed my chance. I’m scared-” you shake your head slowly in disappointment as you try to explain and Joel keeps his eyes on you, waiting. He nods, he’s listening, he’s here. He’s got you. “I’m scared I’m so broken; there’s nothing left of me to be loved.” you hide your face back to his chest again.
He holds you tight, whispering at the crown of your head, “There’s so much left my darlin’, so much left. And I’m here to pick each and every piece of you up and mend it back together.” And you know he is. You just don’t know if you’re worth the trouble.
Suddently your senses are so overloaded, you just need something to ground you. Hard. His natural musk mixed with sweat and sex from earlier that night hits your nostrils, his soft now cock practically under your nose, on your lap. And there is another answer for you. This, this is your favorite scent in the world. His scent.
You inhale deeply, your forehead pressing on his skin, feeling the sparse hair of his chest and the steady beating of his heart. “I need you Joel.”
He tugs your hair gently to raise your head and looks at you. Really looks at you.
“What do you need, sweetheart?”, he moves his hands cupping your cheeks softly.
“I need you to punish me.” you plead with your eyes closed, embarrassment creeping in.
His breath is hitching in his throat, his eyes darken immediately, “Yeah?”
“Yeah..”
“Use your manners then and ask for it, properly.”
“Please sir, I need you to take control, put me in my place.” you feel your skin shiver, your core warming up again.
He just stares at you, making your heart flutter.
You can feel him hardening, his heavy cock brushing against your stomach. You go to palm him, stroke him to his full potential but he grabs your hand and swats it away.
“You're asking for two different things sweetheart and that tells me you're in a delicate headspace. So, I am taking control from you and I am not going to punish you.” he settles.
“But I wa-”
He raises his brows “Are you sure you want to finish that sentence, little girl?” and that effectively shuts you up and turns you on. He doesn’t speak again, he doesn’t say anything else, he just puts his hand on your throat, resting it there for a second, observing you and then he’s guiding you down on your back.
He straddles you higher, on your chest, now hard in all his glory. He’s a sight to behold. Naturally imposing, no pretenses, it’s just who he is. From his gaze to the sound of his voice and from the broadness of his shoulders to the thickness of his thighs, he’s all man.
You must look awestruck because he smirks softly. You open your mouth to -actually you don’t know what you want to ask, he just caught you off guard, but he beats you to it, explaining the situation clearly.
“When you disrespect yourself, you disrespect me and I will not have that. I will not, under any circumstances tolerate that kind of behavior. Do you understand that?”
You just lay there, mouth agape, eyes confused.
He slaps your cheek not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to sting a bit, to snap you out of your trance.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. So..” he brushes his thumb over your lips, pushing it in slowly, pressing down your tongue, “I’m gonna fuck some manners into that mouth, baby.” Oh, shit. “From now on, when you’re chocking on your tears, it’s gonna be because of me ramming my cock down your throat like it deserves.”
Your breath hitches at his vulgarity, your pupils are blown wide and your slick is running down your ass cheeks now. You suck around his thumb, your thighs pressing together in need of some friction.
“You like that, you little whore?”, he removes his thumb allowing you to respond.
You don't know where you find the nerve but, “I thought you said no disrespect.” you blurt out, you can’t help it, you want to rile him up.
“Oh, she speaks now!”, he raises his eyebrows in amusement. Or in a challenge, you’re not totally sure if you want to find out.
He breaths a laugh, shaking his head in a mockingly condencending way, “I don’t think you understand your place here little girl, so let me break it to you.”
His eyes are glazed over, some sort of wickedness mirroring in them. “Only I get to call you names. No one else. No one. Do you know why that is?” He leans in and looks above your head, a sign that he’s expecting an answer.
“Nnn- no.”
“Manners.”, he shakes your head, your jaw grabbed between his fingers.
“No, sir.”
He’s nodding his head slowly. “That’s because only daddy knows what you need.” You know there's more coming, so you stay silent.
“So, when I say you’re a whore, what do you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And when I say you’re my good girl, what do you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And when I say you’re gonna take whatever the fuck I give you, what do you say?”
“Thank you, daddy.”
“Damn right.”, his cock twitches in front of you.
“Please, daddy.” You start whining and squirming underneath him, all needy and wet.
Yes, this is right. He is right. This is how you need it. This is how it should be. If your throat’s gonna hurt and burn and swell it’s gonna be from the invasion of Joel’s cock and not from the insecurities caused from your past.
“Please..” you keep whining.
“Manners, ‘mnot gonna ask again.”, he demands sternly. “And quit your whining, it won't get you anywhere good; got it?”
“Please, sir, let me touch you, pretty please.” you try with a steadier voice.
“Now, now, that’s a good girl right there, hm?” that seems to satisfy him. “Ok, baby, go on.”
Your trembling hands roam slowly all over his chest, then his stomach and the swell of his belly, moving all the way down to his thighs and finally up to the v of where they meet with his pelvis, massaging, caressing and squeezing him softly, circling your fingers around the base of his thick cock.
You're threading them through his pubic hair, your thumbs caressing lightly under him, on his scrotum. He inhales sharply, shivers raising the hairs on his forearms. You press his waist down on you more, resting his weight on you, his warm balls touching your sternum, his hands flat on his thighs.
Joel's eyes are trained on your face, studying you, recognizing the same want, the same desire and thirst that he feels, as you worship him. You raise your head trapping his cockhead under your chin, giving hot, open mouthed kisses to his base and his veiny shaft like you would make out with his mouth. You let him slide to the side of your face, his precum painting your cheek as you bring his cock above you, kissing and licking his underside, lightly sucking his protruding vein.
His eyes darken, enough of your teasin’. He fists his cock, stroking it slowly once, twice, his thumb pressing it down to guide it into your salivating mouth. He swipes his tip across your lips, smearing his precum all over them.
“What do you do if you want me to stop?”, he checks with you.
“Joel..” you drag the vowels of his name on your tongue.
“Show. Me.”, he demands, so you move your hand to his thigh and you tap three times.
“Good. Now, open.”
You just want to consume him, suck his soul out of his perfect slit. So, you obey, sticking your tongue out. He taps his wide head on your wet muscle one, two, three times and then he invades you, moving his hips forward.
There’s something so undeniably erotic about the movement of his pelvis, like a statement, I choose to give and you accept to take, a balancing of the dynamic between you; you could watch him thrust into you forever.
You take him in as far as you can manage without chocking. The feel of every vein and ridge filling your mouth, dragging on your tongue, is driving you crazy.
You hollow your cheeks and start bobbing your head back and forth in rhythm with his thrusts, while your tongue swirls over his delicious pink head, so soft and velvet, your cunt clenches at the memory of it stretching your tight cunt.
You exhale loudly through your nose, and you’re in a frenzy now, you can’t keep a pace or build him slowly up as you’d normally do. You need him now, all of him, as fast and hard as you can, or you’re gonna die, you think. Your eyes roll back and you’re moaning so loud, Joel feels the vibrations from tip to base.
“F-fuck”, he’s taken aback from your fervor, his jaw slack and his brows pinched together from the intensity of your pace.
“Mnot gonnghhhh-”, he groans deeply, every thought of dominance long gone when you’re giving him head like this. Normally, he’d punish you for attempting to take more than he offers, but your neediness is overwhelming. His breathing is faster, louder, in an effort to level himself. His hands fly to your head, like he would hold to your hips if he was fucking you from behind. He’s taking control now for both of your sake.
His fists tighten on your head, keeping you steady and compliant, his little rug-doll, like you’d go anywhere anyway. He’s all the way in now, your nose brushing his pubic hair, his scent driving you wild. He’s fucking himself into your tight throat harder and harder, the noises from your choking on his massive length and the drooling around your mouth might embarrassed you in another life, but not in this one, not now, not with him.
You take everything because he’s everything. Nothing else exists beyond him. He blinks; you see, he moves; you shift, he laughs; you bloom, he breathes; you live.
You don’t even think of your pleasure until he palms your cunt with one hand and your juices cover his fingers. He slows his pace, thrusting into your mouth almost sensually.
“Sucking daddy’s cock made you this wet, sweetheart?”
He starts to rub your swollen clit up and down, knowing how much more intense the sensation is for you this way. You’re already so close, you can feel your lower belly tense with a familiar warmth. You moan around his cock while you begin to grind your hips against his deftly fingers. You should know better.
He slaps your pussy, the wet sound of his palm on your soaked folds making you feral. “Mmmmm” you groan, arching your back unsuccessfully under that mountain of a man above you, rolling your eyes back, your hips never stoping their movement. You're so far gone, it should be embarrassing.
He slaps you again, harder this time and then a third time in quick succession. The impact with your clit sends waves of arousal all over your body, your cunt gushing your slick all over the sheets now.
Your body tenses, your hands squeeze his ass so hard, little moon-shaped indentations mark his skin and your legs are trembling. Tears start running from your eyes to your temples from the intensity of the act.
“You’re a wild little thing, aren't you?”, still slow-fucking your face, his middle and ring finger tapping quickly on your swollen bundle of nerves. “Playing coy and innocent until my cock’s in your mouth, only to come on my palm, hm?” And then he slaps your mound again.
“Mmmmm” you moan desperately, your face contorted in pleasure, tears pooling in your ears, your whole body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You feel him twitching in your mouth while you swallow around him. He’s hard and hot inside you and that makes you drool even more as you suck him off with everything you got. Your neck hurts, your jaw hurts, your lips are stretched to their limit, but you’re not stopping for a second.
You start to whimper and his hand leaves your hair to thumb your tears, bringing it to his mouth. You watch him trapping his digit between his plush lips and sucking on it, tasting your saltiness and everything feels so intimate, sobs start shaking your chest, making it almost impossible to breathe.
You try to push him away to breathe but Joel keeps fucking your mouth. “You know what to do if you want me to stop.”
You keep struggling to breathe but you are not going to tap his thigh.
Joel doesn’t stop, either. “You either tap, or you fuckin’ take it.”, he warns, but you shake your head in denial. “Then I guess you can take it, little girl.”, he concludes while he watches you still struggling and sobbing.
“Baby, you know, Daddy only hurts you because you look so pretty when you cry.” he says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut in an effort to calm yourself, more tears spilling out, nodding at the best of your ability.
“That’s how you gonna come for me”. You didn’t expect that.
You’re not sure you can do it and your body stiffens. It hurts good, what he's doing, leaving you panting and wanting, but you fear it's not enough to make you come. He can read that on you and he feels your hesitation.
He moves his thumb to your cheekbone, caressing it gently. Then he moves it lower, to the corner of your outstretched mouth, feeling himself sliding in and out of you. “Fuck, baby, you take me so good. You’re doin’ so good for me,” he’s panting and you know he’s holding himself back, “your mouth was made for daddy’s cock. Just let go baby, don't fight it, ok? I got you, you’re gonna be ok.”
He starts fucking your mouth roughly now, his heavy balls slapping on your wet chin, the sounds echoing in the room nearly pornographic. His hand resumes rubbing your clit in tight circles now, building you up, then tapping it a few times to bring you close and then slapping it once to bring you back from the edge, before he starts all over again.
Circling. Tapping. Slapping.
Circling. Tapping. Slapping.
Circling. Tapping. Slapping.
The bastard is fucking edging you.
He did exactly what you asked of him. He took control, left no room for thoughts, for decisions, for questioning. You just lay there and you take it.
“Daddy needs you to come, right fuckin’ now darlin’; be my good girl and give me what’s mine.” he commands and you obey, because there is no other way.
Your orgasm is explosive, your cunt spasming violently, your eyes rolling into your head, Joel’s pulling back his cock from your open mouth to let you breathe properly but you’re holding your breath in. “Theeere she is, there she fuckin' is..”he smirks in satisfaction, his fingers keep circling your overstimulated clit to prolong your high while he jerks himself fast above your lips.
You exhale loudly when you remember you need to breathe, the air is coming out of your lungs forcefully, hitting Joel’s tip and he comes instantly, thick ropes of milky cum painting your cheeks, nose and lips, running down to your jaw and neck. There’s so much of it, its warmth on your sweaty skin making your pussy keep clenching.
All because of that gorgeous man above you. Because it’s a part of him and he’s gifting it to you.
Joel brings his hand from between your legs to the side of your head, steadying himself, leaning above you, his head resting low between his shoulders, his breathing erratic and loud. His eyes are closed shut, his face wrecked, his muscles still convulsing from his intense orgasm.
Please, open them, let me look at you and he does open them, making you realize you said it out loud. His gaze is one of adoration and something else you don’t dare acknowledge. The edges of his mouth are curled up in a soft smirk.
His fingers caress your face, gathering his seed from your skin and feeding it to your starved mouth. You suck around his thick fingers, your tongue swiping everything clean. He places a soft kiss on your lips tasting himself on you, before he stands to fetch a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up.
You close your eyes and just lay there, still, utterly content and satisfied, lighter than ever. In peace. You feel the mattress dip under his weight again and him gently cleaning your face and neck, then between your legs, discarding the cloth on the hardwood floor when he’s done and laying on top of you, peppering soft kisses all over your face.
“Good?” he whispers against your lips.
“Yes, thank you daddy”. You bring your hands on the sides of his head, kissing the space between his earlobe and jaw, then his jawline, his bottom lip, the edge of his mouth, the apple of his cheek as he smiles, the tip of his nose.
It’s how you know to say thank you, I care about you, too; I love you.
For now.
383 notes · View notes
st4rbwrry · 1 year
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SMITTEN ☆ eren yeager.
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★ 𖥻 synopsis. being cuffed to the bed was the last thing eren expected on your date night home.
‍     ‍ ☆. warnings — 3.5k nsfw, pwp, lowercase intended, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, black coded, girly girl reader, mechanic!eren, bondage, established relationship, riding, switch!reader, switch!eren, eren’s sensitive, chubby!reader, readers needy, male oral, finger sucking, eren is fussy, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, kissing, mutual praise, voice kink, vulgar language, edging, pet names ex. mamas. baby. princess. daddy. minors aren’t welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated! <3
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“baby. . . you're in so much fuckin’ trouble when i get outta these.”
eren knows how much you love him. how much you appreciate him, care for him, wanna be with him for the rest of your life. the matching ‘till death’ tattoos imprinted on the inner corner of your ring fingers proving so. he makes sure you're always taken care of financially, mentally, and even physically. works from sunrise to sunset, praises you with kisses all over your precious face for making him a meal every day. buys you whatever your heart desires. runs you bubble baths when you aren't feeling well. gives you full body massages which usually leads to him burying his face between your plush thighs. eren loves you. eren needs you. without you he isn't sane. you complete him. so because he treats you like a queen, it's only right that he receives king treatment.
while eren made his way home to you, the only person he wanted to see after a tiring, stressful day with customers who complained about their cars to him and loud-mouthed, gossipy employees at his auto shop . . . he was surprised to see that you set up a romantic atmosphere. eren is greeted with a soft, neat kiss to his pouty lips. his biceps tensing as he wraps both arms around your body in a tight bear-hug, giggling as he lifts you off the ground.
you've got scented candles lit around the loft with ceiling high windows, a bottle of stella rose black and a classic meal of creamy mafaldine tuscan chicken pasta prepared. strawberry cheesecake in the fridge for desert. eren’s eyes soften, picking you up and carrying you to the dining table to eat your meal, not before showering you with more kisses and a hundred thank you's.
you enjoy your meal under the moonlight, sipping wine and having deep conversations which you envied because there's always something the two of you can talk about without getting fussy. debates, political topics, wellness, issues with each other. remaining mature since you have the best communication. you wanted to let him know that he's been so understanding, so attentive to your needs and you felt like you needed to do more to show him you want him to feel secure. that this is a forever love and you don't take him for-granted, not for a second.
“baby, never think that you don't do enough for me. i make the decision to cater to you and i have no issue in doing so. you deserve this lifestyle. being in my presence is all i could ever ask of you. i pray everyday that i don't fuck up what we have. you're my girl.”
and immediately, you're taking the air from his lungs when you pull him close with your arms lazily thrown over his shoulders while you kiss him deeply. madly in love. it's a scary thing sometimes. and it's crazy how such a sweet moment turned into a salacious act like this. after finishing a film in the living room cuddled up with your pets, a cat for you and a dog for him, you tell eren you have one more surprise. standing to your feet with a cheeky smile, holding both hands out for him to grab. eren is curious, raising his brows before standing to his full height, towering over your figure and it never fails to make your skin heat up.
“don't pull no scary shit,” eren runs a tatted hand through his long hair before holding yours.
“shush, i promise it's not that.”
eren can't see you biting your sanrio themed acrylics with excitement, too busy staring at your bare ass underneath that slutty slip you have on. he recognizes it, in fact. an old piece by victoria's secret you've been searching on depop for like a madwoman. it's a mesh coquette cherry colored slip dress with a ruffled trim tulle skirt and damn did you wear it so good, the slip hugging your curves just right. his mouth waters, instinctively smacking your ass as you step into your shared bedroom.
before you could speak, as you turn to him he's already pulling you in by your waist, using his foot to kick the door closed so the kids wouldn't interrupt. they liked to jump on the bed mid-fuck a lot. you try not to melt in his hold, his lips gliding with yours, molding your ass in his hand, moaning from your taste.
“er—”
“who said you could look this fuckin’ good, unh?” swatting your ass again, the force knocks you closer into his chest, face burning when you feel his dick thickening in his jeans against your tummy. print evident.
“it's all for you, ‘ren,” chewing your lips with a smile, you give him a quick peck before releasing his hands from your ass. “but first, i need you to take your clothes off.”
“ooo,” he sings. “you feed me some good ass food, get all touchy and cuddly, and now you tryna fuck me?” eren tongues his inner cheek with a smirk. “nasty.”
“shut up and strip.”
“yes ma'am,” eren hums, still giving you those flirty green eyes as he stretches his arms behind himself to tug at his stained white tshirt, usually getting his clothes dirty when working. he still manages to smell so good though. a mix of musk with his daily cologne and body wash. you'll never forget the time when he came home one day, car grease on his hands nearly turning them black. hair messy and a dangerous look in his eye when he caught you in the kitchen with an apron baking a pie. bending you over the sink, hiking your pink sundress up on your waist and holding you still as he fucked you hard. rough hands groping every inch of your aching body. keeping you balanced by your forearms he held back while he ground his cock deep into you, expletives spewing, sweat coating his forehead, and nutting copious amounts of cum. point is, you love when he's fresh off of work. makes the thrill all the more inviting.
jeans come next. and that's when he takes his time, eyeing you as he torturously drags the zipper down before dragging the black fabric down his muscular thighs, dick bulging in his tommy hilfiger briefs. commentary ensues. “gonna kiss it for me?”
you shake your finger at him, a tiny tsk following. “don't ruin the surprise, keep going. wanna see you.”
“i feel like i'm being filmed, there better not be a camera,” he rolls his eyes, finally discarding every clothing piece on his body, your legs clenching tighter together where you stood as he moans when his dick hits his tummy. the tip is drenching precum it's almost inhumane. you needed to lick that up real soon.
“you wanna be?” you question, serious.
eren deadpans. “be for real.”
“you can wear a mask!” you protest, actually enjoying the idea. “mhm, you'd look so good with a balaclava on.”
“no.”
sucking your teeth, you continue with your plan, walking towards the closet to find a little box with his gift inside. holding the black and red compartment, you face him with a cheshire cat grin. “get on the bed and lay on your back.”
eren’s too horny to argue right now, still anxious about what you're planning, but does what you say nonetheless. naked, heavy, tall figure dipping the bed with black satin sheets and pillows as he sits up against the headboard, tucking some strands of hair behind his ear, wrinkling his pierced nose. “i don't like you.”
“you will in a minute. close your eyes. no peaking or i'm going to bed and your gonna have to fuck your hand instead.”
flaring his nostrils, he closes his eyes. you try your best to be silent with your present, removing the lid to take out the baby pink fuzzy handcuffs you ordered a few days ago. thinking this would be the perfect time to put them to use. he's quiet, leaning his head back when he feels you climb on top of him, stifling a breath when the mesh from your slip grazes the head of his dick. beyond sensitive. taking one of his wrists, you unclasp one cuff and chain him to it, eren’s eyes shooting open before you restrain him to the headboard completely.
“no fuckin’ way,” eren licks his lips as he shakes his head, a menacing glare in his eyes as you sit on his abdomen and keen in achievement. “baby. . . you're in so much fuckin’ trouble when i get outta these.”
“why? scared i'll slut you the fuck out, baby?” a sadistic smile casts your face, eren nearly trembling from your words. what exactly did you have in mind? he had no idea. but he's kind of . . . amused? aroused mostly. it's rare when you tap into your dominant side. loving to be his pretty little submissive.
“if you wanted to bounce on my dick so bad you could've been straightforward.”
“mhm, this is more fun. i get you all to myself. i can do whatever i want. promise it's all for you. just wanna make you feel good, daddy,” you suck on your lip and press your weight down on him, trailing your hands up his chest to his tatted neck, eyes drifting low and moaning from how good the view was. he's truly an ethereal man.
“g’na fuck me empty, princess?” his voice drops an octave, knowing what that does to you. the way his voice summons you to do things will never make sense.
“till your shooting blanks,” you grin.
“well, if that's the case,” eren ponders, inching his face closer to yours, accepting his fate and playing your fantasy. "then put that pussy where it belongs, princess.”
it's not in his position to make orders, so ignoring him, you scoot backwards so his angry dick is in your face and your ass is arched into the air for presentation. “wanna suck it first,” you mumble, delicately wrapping both of your soft hands around the vein protruding, throbbing weapon. just the right thickness to make it impossible to fully engulf it in your throat.
eren spreads his legs, and the act is so sexy yet desperate. hissing as you watched you intently through his long lashes, your lips hovering over the leaking tip before taking it gently into the warmth of your mouth. suckling it like your favorite flavored lollipop.
“goddamn, baby,” he stretches out his arms as a force of habit, ready to hold either side of your face so he can work his pretty cock in nice and easy. but he's irked the minute the chains clink on his wrist, remembering he's bound. he sighs out, fixing to say something until you remove one hand off his cock and massage his balls while taking him further down your mouth. working both hands simultaneously. saliva building, bubbles forming the quicker you bob your head and stroke his dick.
“yea, stroke it while you suck it. mm,” eren's eyes are scrolling back, thighs twitching as he lightly moves his hips as you gag and suck. releasing him with a wet pop, maintaining eye contact as you slick your puffy lips along the sides of his cock, darting your tongue out and moaning deeply. your ass moves in the air as if you're getting fucked from the back, rolling and rocking back. pussy sluice in your thin thong, needing him now more than ever. one more thing though, and it's his damn favorite.
“wait, baby. don't . . .” a gasp flees from his agape mouth as you nudge his balls with your tongue before sucking one of them into your mouth, keeping your rhythm stroking mostly the tip, spreading your fingers languidly, sticky with his precum and your spit. you know that's his sensitive area, the breaths leaving him frantic. you can feel the blood rushing in his cock, rotating your hand and sucking the heavy sack as the whimpers that vibrate in your throat travel to him.
“f-fuck, { name }. g’na cum. keep goin’.” the chains clank along the headboard as he struggles, spreading his legs even wider, his tummy sinking in as he buried his head into the pillow behind him. the ball in his neck protruding and you watch him, so in love, so intrigued . . . you stop. and he whines, which is the last thing you expected to hear from him. it's so needy that it makes your clit throb even harder.
“fuck!” he curses angrily, groaning with pain and pleasure stirring inside. his dick jumping for attention. “don't fuckin’ tease me baby, or i swear to god i'll fuck you sore.”
“yea, whatever,” you giggle, purposely pissing him off further. “you mad, daddy?” you pout, tone teasing. reclaiming your position previously as you hover above him, his jaw clenching, black painted nails balling into fists.
“you know i'm fuckin’ mad. stop playing, { name }.”
he's got a lot to say but he shuts up the instant you tug your lace thong to the side and reach behind yourself to sink slowly onto the tip. both hands lay flat on his stomach as you ease down, eren mumbling ‘slow, slow’ as you sink halfway down before riding back up. your nails dig into his skin briefly, the relief you receive maddening. it's such an easy fix when he's available. eyelids squeezed shut as you accommodate his size, the fire in your chest blazing.
“oh my god,” you suck on your lips, face screwed once you pick your pace, rising and dropping your ass effortlessly, like a mystical creature. your hips move like waves, grinding slow to feel him reach that spot within you, moaning and tossing your head to the side.
“so fuckin’ wet, baby. listen to you. listen,” eren’s eyebrows are knitted, jaw unlocked, completely entranced by the way you move, the two of you panting heavily, listening to your slick coat his dick lewdly. ass clapping onto his thighs you lean back to grab onto with one hand to balance yourself. cupping a handful of your tits and whimpering as you fuck him quicker.
“unh, if you could see what i see, baby,” eren chokes, rocking his waist with yours to heighten your pleasure. it felt so good to take control. “you look s’ good when you fuck me.”
“love how you feel inside me,” your juices drip down his balls and onto the sheets, squealing as you lean forward to angle your faces together, his hands reaching far enough to graze your hair and cheekbone. focusing on the look in your eyes as you steady yourself on the tips of your toes before slamming your ass down harder, the two of you gasping in sync. “fill me so fuckin’ good, baby.”
eren thinks it's so ironic how your lettered necklace dangles over his face, making a noise he's never made before, focusing on the silver swaying. now he gets how you feel when his chain swings over your face when he fucks a dent into the mattress shaping your silhouette. he's succumbing to you willingly, breath hitching from the euphoric roll and dip of your thick hips, wishing so badly he had access to grip and grind you down on his dick harder.
this position weakens you both, your knees buckling and his waist twitching. your voice quakes and you cum without warning him, flopping onto his chest as your hips stirred lazily. eren’s close yet again, can feel it but can't get to where he needs to be without you. he needed you to move.
“c’mon, princess. fuck me, lemme cum,” he sounds incredibly submissive, that whiny tone partaking his usual asshole demeanor. it was such a turn on seeing his face switching from grumpy to ‘please baby fuck me’. eyes low and seductive. begging sounded good on him.
you sit up, cupping either side of his face before kissing him. eren rushing the kiss meaning he's extra greedy for it. gliding his lips over your chin, groaning in your mouth and sliding his fat tongue over yours, a sloppy french kiss. your mind goes blank when you feel his tongue on your neck next, wishing it was between your legs right now. that thing is a demon. the way he fucks you with it makes your soul leave your body every time. he's a gift from the gods, truly.
“not yet.”
“not playing fair, baby,” eren clicks his teeth, bushy brows entwined to showcase his frustration. he's so cute when he's upset. “all i wanna do is touch you. why's that such an issue? if you're gonna fuck me, do it right.
you huff, knowing he's saying anything just so you'll unlock the cuffs. “talking too much, ‘ren.”
a dark glint is in his eyes, those jade irises no longer it's stunning bright shade. his voice becomes gravely as he says, “am i? that's cause i wanna lick your fuckin’ clit. n i can't do that properly without touching you. she's soakin’ all on me.”
“mmm, wanna put your mouth on my pussy?” your voice softens tauntingly, trailing your hand down your stomach to slowly roll your fingers over your engorged clit. eren’s mouth waters.
“yes,” he clenched his jaw. you're so goddamn infuriating.
“she needs more. i wanna stay full while you eat it.”
“i’ll put my fingers in it. you like those, baby, right?” his eyes go all big like a puppy. “taste you while i fuck you open. jus’ like you like it?”
as tempting as that sounded, again, he’s in no position to make demands. ignoring the way your tummy flutters from the delicious thought, you're back to fucking him nice and slow. overstimulating yourself and edging him. it's so painful he just wants to cum. he wouldn't necessarily consider this a gift. you've just gotten in your head and took advantage of the situation. but that's okay, ‘cause he's gonna fuck you sore like he said. your necklace hits his forehead, chest in his face as you clap back on his pulsating dick. sucking his fingers and squeaking unexpectedly, eyes widening as eren plants his feet into the bed and pistons his cock up into you, knocking the wind from your lungs.
“eren, wait. . .”
“shut the fuck up,” eren growls into your neck, fucking you as best he could with his restraint. your screams fill the air, unable to hold him still. there was no point. he was pissed off now and wanted nothing more than to fill you deep with his cum as punishment.
and for some reason you underestimate eren's strength, because in a matter of seconds he's yanking his right arm forward and breaking the cuff with just a blink of your eye. you can't even comprehend what the hell he just did because he's grabbing your neck and pining you beneath him to fuck you deeper. nothings processing in your brain but the sound of his thighs clapping with yours, the grunts from eren and your second orgasm shooting through you. arching your back into him, his hand constricting some air in your esophagus which only intensifies your pleasure.
“i hear you, mamas,” eren releases his grip on your neck just a little, pressing his nose to yours with a clenched jaw, his one arm hanging above you since it's still chained up. eren shifts his body slightly down yours to put your legs over his broad shoulders, slipping his dick back in and folding you in a mating press.
“this is what you get for fuckin’ with me,” the way he's fucking you has your toes cramping and your voice disappearing. you can't scream anymore, sounds of pleasure dying down to cries and whimpers, tiny figure compared to his jolting beneath him. eren’s whines are muffled by the pillow he buried his face into as he shoots his cum into you, filling you up warmly. his orgasm so overpowering he can't help but still fuck through it. wheezes and ragged breathing is all you could hear since you had zero energy to open your eyes.
throwing your arms around him to claw at his backside. eren’s still moving inside of you, your legs shaking the further he pins them down with his one hand after sitting up on his knees, looking down at you, long hair sticking to his fucked out face. he takes two of his slender fingers to tug down your bralette to retrieve the key you stored in there. freeing himself and tossing the cuffs somewhere in the room.
“cheap ass cuffs,” eren says, spanking the outside of your thigh. “gotta give it to you, i enjoyed that.”
you perch up on your elbows, happiness shadowing you. “really?!”
“just don't try that shit again. now lay on your stomach and lemme eat your pussy.”
☆. tags ; @poutsiez @angelktski @monirei @sailewhoremoon @taureanstargirl @moreclass @aichaaa @yoshimurah @slayy697 @xblackreadersupremacy @st4rslvtt @shamelesshoefairy
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© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life <3
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Text
Working Away
Summary: Your boyfriend is away murdering people and calls in the middle of the night to get some help coming down.
Jason Todd x Reader
1.2k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, masturbating, phone sex,dirty talk, pet names, implied choking, praise.
AN: two things, 1 Im bored, so take this. 2. I can't keep up with the tag lists and soz.
"Come on babygirl, pick up," Jason paces through the loft of his new safe house. This is the longest he's been away from you since you started dating. He wanted to call you when he landed days ago, but things thinged and he just didn't have time between all the killing and patching himself up. Today was mania, he finally found the head of the group he was looking for and it ended in a slaughter.
Its been a few hours now and he can't seem to come down from this high. His blood is pumping, his cock throbbing in his jeans, fuck he just needs to hear your voice. If that's all he can have for the moment he will take it until he can get back to you.
"Good mornin," you whisper into your phone, your voice still full of sleep, "you ok?"
"I'm alive if that's what you mean."
"Kay, goin back to sleep."
"No, wait. Sugar, can you," he hears the rustle of your blankets as you adjust yourself in bed, "can we just talk for a while?"
"Okay, just let me put ya on speaker."
"Are you comfy?"
"Yeah I am now."
"Got all your pillows?"
"Ah, hmm."
"Are you cold without me?" He asks as he slips his pants off and lounges back on the bed, "or are you wearing my shirt?"
"Yeah, but it's losing your smell," you roll over resting your head on his pillow, the scent of his shampoo still lingering, "what did you want to talk about?"
"You. How pretty you are, how much I wanna kiss you, how I wanna lick every inch of your perfect body and how fucking badly I wanna be inside you."
"Blood-lust, daddy?"
"Yes, Sugar. I need you."
The sleep rushes from your body as your pussy starts to ache, slipping your panties to the side you slide your fingers through yourself. "I miss you, it's not the same when I do it. I can't-'' you shiver when your fingertips graze over your clit, "-can't reach all the places your big hands do."
"Tell me what you want me to do." He spits into his hand once, twice, before sliding it down the inches of his hard cock, "I promise to do it when I get home."
"First I want you to kiss me," your hands grasp at your akin, "like that night in the alleyway."
"Mm.. I remember that night, the way you melted under my hands," he closes his eyes, recalling how your eyes watered when his hand slipped around your neck and he thrust you against that wall, "how pretty you looked under that light. Then I picked you up and had you against the wall."
"Yes, Jay. I want you to pick me up," your hand slips further down your body, "then throw me on the bed."
"I'll rip that shirt off you, " His hand pumps faster on his cock, “and anything else that gets in the way of my lips on your skin.”
"Your marks are fading," your hand holds your throat, "I need new ones, daddy."
"I can't wait to give you more. To mark up that soft skin of yours while my fingers are deep inside that pussy."
"So deep, my nails stabbing into your back." You moan as the picture starts to form in your head, your fingers thrusting inside of you, trying so hard to reach that spot that he always finds straight away.
"You sound so wet, Sugar. Fuck, I need to taste you.” he growls as he cock starts to drip on his hand, “What you to taste all this pre that's dripping down my hand right now."
"I love the taste of you.” your tongue darts out, the phantom taste of him in your lips,” Love feeling it drip down my chin and my throat.”
“Fuck, it stretches that pretty mouth so wide, doesn’t it.”
“Makes me feel so full.”
“My favourite is feeling your teeth graze over me.”
“You love that tiny bit of pain.”
"I do, Sugar. We're perfect together. Fuck, I love you." He groans, "I need to cum, you think you can-"
"Me too. I want you so bad. Need to feel you stretch me out," you pant, your back arching off the bed as your fingers attempt to get deeper, "I can't do it on my own, daddy."
"Yes, you can. I need you too." His hand tightens on his cock, the way your pretty pussy always does when he fucks up into you, "you know I can’t until you do. Now be a good girl," he smiles to himself when he hears your breathing pick up, "press your palm into your clit for me and let all those pretty noises out."
"Jay, fuck. Keep going." you imagine him, sitting in his room right on the edge, his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes shut as he imagines you touching yourself. Sweat falling down his hardened brow as he tries to focus while also trying not to cum.
"You're such a good girl, wishing for me. Yes, let them out, fucking h'll. Like music to my ears, sugar."
"I'm getting close, fuck. I ah- I- Jason."
"You wanna cum for me? You wanna come for daddy?"
"Yes, please, pelase, pelase."
"Then do it, I wanna hear all of it."
Your orgasm cascades over you, days of pent up pleasure exploding all over you at once. Your limbs shake and your mind spins and you can hear Jason's pleas all around you.
“Sugar, I need you. Fuck, can you beg-” he moans, his words choppy as he tries to form a coherent sentence, “beg for it.”
“I need it, please,” your voice still hoarse, “I want it.”
“Do you? Not- Ah, fuck me. -more”
“Please cum for me, daddy. I can’t- please please.”
“Yes, Sugar. You want it, you want it in your mouth?”
“Yes, please, cover me in it.”
“I- Fuck, I’m gunna- I am- fuck, yes, Sug-ahhh.” he screams and you wish you were really there to drink it all down for him. You lick your lips, listening to Jason's incoherent praise as he comes down.
When he lets out a little sigh and you hear the thud of his back hitting the mattress you ask,. "Jay, when are you coming home?"
"I still got a few more days, Sugar."
"Okay," you roll over, snuggling into his pillow. The smell should be comfortable but at the moment it just makes you feel even more alone.
"You still there?"
"Yeah, I just. I need a bundle."
"I will give you all the cuddles when I get home. I promise."
"You better and that's not all I want."
"Tell me and it's yours."
"Everything you promised. Plus 3 days of uninterrupted Sugar time."
"You know I'd do anything for you."
"I know." You pause, shifting the blankets up and shoving a pillow behind your back, "Jay."
"Yes, baby."
"Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?"
"Want a lullaby?"
"Yes please."
You start to drift off to the soft hums of a slow song, Jason's low baritone seeping into your dreams and keeping you safe until he returns.
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madlori · 1 month
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Ship dysphoria
Ok so a bit of time has gone by, and the 9-1-1 fandom is settling into a bit of an...existential crisis?
Because 90% of this fandom is built on Buddie. Buddie has always been the strongest driving force. We love our other blorbos, but it's Buddie that usually drives us feral.
Except...Buck/Tommy. OMG. It is WORKING for a lot of fans. (and JFC we cannot settle on a ship name. Tevan? Kinley? I'm gonna stick with Buck/Tommy)
A LOT of fans are having a "I'm a devoted Buddie shipper, why do I like this so much??" moment and it can almost feel like a betrayal, or that you're deserting the ship (the ship that, remember, Oliver told us to stay aboard).
And I think I can probably speak for everybody when I say that the last thing we want or need is a ship war in this fandom, something we haven't ever really had but which has torn other fandoms apart.
So I'm gonna put on my veteran-of-many-fandoms hat for a second and tell you a thing:
It's okay to ship Buck and Tommy. It's ok to do that and still ship Buddie. It's also okay to leave Buddie behind if it's not working for you anymore. It's okay to just tolerate Buck and Tommy and not really care about it, and stay focused on Buddie. You are allowed to ship however it works for you, and you are not limited to one and only one ship. If you decide you don't think Buddie will happen and you're going to cut your losses, that's okay, too. It is not a reflection on your character or something. You don't swear an oath of fealty to a ship.
We don't know how long Tommy will stick around, but Buck will still be bisexual. He may date another man. He may date a woman again. You can ship those things too.
But why is this ship hitting me so hard? I never thought I'd like Buck with another man! I'm so confused!
I get that. There are some reasons why that might be.
There is something very appealing about a ship that's canon. Some of you might never have had a canon queer ship, but the pull is strong. There's no guessing, no interpreting, no subtext-examining. It's there, it's real, you don't have to wonder if you're just overinterpreting things. Yes. Buck and Tommy kissed and are going on a date. Even if that's all it ever is, you'll never be accused of "seeing things that aren't there." Don't discount that.
Tommy, even in just 1.5 episodes, is a LOT more integrated into the firefam than any of Buck's previous girlfriends. Tim talked about not wanting him to be "siloed off" away from the main cast and that was exactly the problem with his prior girlfriends. Tommy is friends with Eddie. He knows Christopher and has hung out with him. He spent most of that loft conversation reassuring Buck that his place in Eddie's life was secure. He feels more like part of the gang than any other ones. That makes it easier to see him in Buck's life.
The mere fact of Buck's queer awakening is so monumental for so many of us that the character who helped him get there is going to naturally earn our affection immediately, and it's going to make you want that relationship to succeed, even if it's ulitmately not endgame for Buck. You want to see Buck have a good experience the first time out with a man. Of course you do.
And we just want to see Buck make out with a hot beefy firefighter. That is so valid of us.
Anyway. There is no need for a crisis. You can love Buddie with your whole heart and still be excited about this pairing, and want to see how it goes, and read fic about it. I may be writing a lil something myself.
You're good, fam.
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buckybarnesss · 8 months
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the fact that nobody called Derek out on his sudden "no, no, we shouldn't immediately murder" attitude in season 3B is so funny
Derek killed Peter, Jackson, and wanted to kill Lydia, but when it's Stiles? Nope, suddenly non-violence is the only answer.
it's one of the things i love about 3B so, so, so much.
i think the only people who could reasonably call derek on it would be scott and peter. scott may have noticed but he wouldn't have on this. not when he was desperate. peter sort of did when derek became focused on the chessboard but instead he was kind of helpful about it. perhaps taking a little pity on his nephew.
riddled is such a great episode for various reasons. scott is terrified of what's happening to stiles. the look on his face when isaac suggests after seeing stiles room that it's insanity all but screams scott is thinking about claudia just like the sheriff is. scott may not have known the name of the disease claudia had but he knew enough. it's the first time scott sees the bite as a gift when he all but offers it to stiles. a last resort because they both know stiles really doesn't want it but it's an option and one claudia never had.
but what gets me is scott immediately calls derek. he's scared about stiles's wellbeing. scott hates involving derek in things and usually only contacts him as a last resort but not here.
scott may willfully put his fingers in his ears and close his eyes to the stiles and derek dynamic but we spent time on him realizing that stiles and derek made friends without him in 3A.
so he calls derek knowing derek will help.
derek is the most transparent we ever see him in 3B. derek enjoys having a certain amount of mystery about him with scott and company. he likes his local cryptid status with them. keeps them on their toes.
like yeah derek mellowed somewhat in season 3 but when stiles is in danger all his known methods and strategies go out the window.
he's teaching chemosignals to scott. he's revealing he knows stiles by scent well enough to be able to tell that stiles was having a fight with himself. he's purposefully seeking out argent to gauge how much of a threat he is to stiles.
he investigates what happened on the night with barrow and even takes kira along for the investigation. same guy who saw lydia was immune to a werewolf bite and went "yep absolutely the kanima gotta kill her" instead of looking for other reasons.
this man doesn't even investigate himself when he's losing his powers the next season. derek baby what you doing?
the nogitsune so called him out this by using his loft as essentially a safe place to hide from the oni. it purposefully used derek as protection right beside the sheriff because neither of them could kill stiles and it knew that.
stiles spent 2.5 seasons gaining derek's trust. stiles is the one who learns about derek's past and checks on his wellbeing. stiles is the one who makes an effort to understand him. the only two people we ever see offer derek comfort are stiles and cora.
stiles earned derek's trust so much by this point not only would derek do just about anything to protect stiles but stiles became his anchor.
the derek hale committee for the protection and safety of stiles stilinski founded 2011.
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