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roosterforme · 8 months

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Always Ever Only You Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Asking your friends for help when you need it is starting to feel good instead of scary. Even listening to Cat open up doesn't sting like it once did. Bradley starts to have an ominous feeling about his upcoming mission, and when the details are revealed, he's left wondering what his career will be like in the future.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

There was truly something to be said for the way you felt after you talked to Dr. Genevieve. Even though your period was a few days late, and you had been holding out hope, you didn't go quite to pieces when it did end up starting. Sure, there were some tears as you opened up a new box of tampons, but you didn't dwell on it as much as you had the past several cycles in a row.

In fact, when you thought you couldn't take the physical pain of your cramps and the mental pain as well, you called Maria. You told her that you didn't want to be alone and asked if she could stop by. And she came over with a backpack and some donuts.

"What's in the bag?" you asked as you bit into a Boston cream.

"Clothes for tomorrow," she replied, petting Tramp while she ate a chocolate donut with sprinkles. "I figured I could sleep over."

"You don't have to," you whispered, now feeling a little embarrassed.

But she just shrugged. "I've been a little lonely, too. My new roommate has never been as fun as you were."

"Nobody is," you added, biting into a second donut. You figured you earned it, since you'd started to get back on track with what you were eating. "Thanks for joining me in the cafeteria at work."

"Thanks for actually coming to lunch. Cam is hella boring to eat with every day."

You groaned and headed for the couch with a bottle of wine. "Ugh, I left you hanging with Cam. I'm sorry." You were going to be better about taking care of everything. Yourself, your marriage, Bradley, and your friends.

Maria just laughed and followed behind you with two glasses and a corkscrew. "I love him, but he's still a dude. And just inherently dumb. He can't help it."

The girl talk ended up spiraling into a great weekend, and when you went to work on Monday morning, you still felt good. And Bickel had been a saint, not acting weird or giving you too much distance at all since you broke down hard in his office. Sure, maybe he was asking you how you were feeling with a little more frequency, but he kept your workload the same and never questioned anything you handed in to him.

And then there was Cat. Since you kind of blew the Jake thing up in her face, she'd been very quiet. Jake was still claiming nothing was going on now, but you'd never have been able to get an answer out of Cat one way or the other. And now you were thinking maybe you should have just minded your own business. Because Jake seemed melancholy, and he hadn't actually ended things himself even after he learned about Uncle Hondo.

"Good morning," you said to Cat later in the week when you walked into the lab. She seemed surprised you were greeting her.

'Hi," she responded, slipping back into her usual state of calm immediately. "If you're about to ask about the calculation set, I'm almost done. I just need another hour or two."

"No rush," you replied. "Um, actually, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch today?"

She eyed you skeptically. "In the cafeteria?"

You shrugged. "Or my office?"

When Cat didn't respond right away, you wanted to kick yourself. But then she said, "I feel like you and I just keep getting off to bad start after bad start with each other. I'd like to eat with you, but I don't want to go down to the cafeteria. At all. Just looking at Lieutenant Seresin makes me want to hide."

"Care to elaborate?" you asked cautiously.

She just smirked. "Sure. Over lunch. In your office."

---------------------------

Bradley had stripped down to his underwear and gym shorts, and he was currently trying his hardest to meditate on his bed. Bob had spent the last several weeks patiently trying to explain to him exactly what went into it, but Bradley would reach a state of calm and then inevitably get distracted.

He cracked his eyes open to see Bob in a state of complete relaxation on his own bed. Something about this just didn't work as well for him, and his brain was buzzing, so Bradley reached for his notebook instead. There were too many things he wanted to write down. It felt like he wasn't going to be able to stop emptying out all of his feelings now that he started, and after several weeks, the notebook was mostly full.

The desire to be at home was overwhelming. Thinking about eating homemade Marry Me Rooster with his wife perched on his lap was all that was getting him through this deployment. As soon as he was home, he'd make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him. There were no conditions on his love, and he was embarrassed and crushed that maybe he made you think there were.

He only had a few more weeks to go. But things with the mission were looking abysmal. Slayer and Charmer were getting worse to deal with by the day, and the way the admirals praised them was beyond ridiculous. Like the shiny, new aviators were somehow better than the ones with more experience. Like Bradley, Nat and Bob couldn't keep up now. It was hard to keep believing that the admirals would actually put the best team together to complete the mission.

"Wow," Bob suddenly said, stretching his arms over his head and removing his glasses. "That was a great session."

"Yep," Bradley agreed, nodding as he scribbled in the notebook. "Really good, Bob."

But the other man was already pulling the bedding up to his shoulders, and Bradley knew he'd be asleep soon. "Good for you," he muttered, returning to his notebook.

Nat and Bob were so good to him, this deployment should have been a breeze. And it had improved since he got to talk to you over facetime in the commanding officer's quarters, but he thought he'd go ahead and start a countdown in the notebook anyway. Just eighteen more days until he should be arriving back in San Diego. And he was hoping like hell he would get to call you again before then.

But a few days later, he still hadn't been selected for another facetime session. And Bob and Nat got called out onto the tarmac after dinner for a repairs inspection that was performed on their Super Hornet. So Bradley headed to the gym for a workout by himself, and the room was thankfully fairly empty. He put in his ear buds and got out his phone. He selected the playlist you made for him last year called This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley and he smiled.

Pretty soon he was sweating, working his way through some bicep curls, when he saw Slayer out of the corner of his eye. He would ignore him. No problem. Only two weeks left to go. Only a few more days until the mission. "Do not engage," Bradley muttered to himself.

But of course he couldn't control what Slayer decided to do, and the idiot wandered over toward him. And then he snatched his phone off of the bench, and Bradley was on his feet immediately, still clutching the fifty pound dumbbell in his left hand.

"What the hell do you want?" Bradley asked, plucking one ear bud out. "It's bad enough I have to see you in the classroom all day."

Slayer just laughed, and Bradley realized he was staring at his lock screen. "Just wanted another look at your wife. How much younger is she, old man? She got a grandpa fetish or something?"

Bradley's fingers tightened around the dumbbell, and he wished he'd given more of an effort to meditating with Bob.

He was seething. And then Slayer asked him, "You know what? Why don't you just give me her number so I can keep her warm next time you're out of town?"

Bradley had to fight the urge to throw the dumbbell at him. "You talk an awful lot for someone so stupid."

"And you strut around like you own the place for something who can barely fly."

Bradley's blood was boiling now. The admirals had pumped these kids so full of bullshit, there was going to be no arguing with him. Instead he snatched his phone out of Slayer's hand and pocketed it. "And you're slow as shit versus an old man. Now get back to your bunk, it's almost curfew for the children."

Slayer smirked at him as he backed away toward an empty weight bench. "Just wait. You'll see."

--------------------------

You had made it this far, you could make it two more weeks. But you got your period again, right on time. And you knew it was ridiculous to get choked up when you had to get the tampons and pads out again, because Bradley wasn't even home. You hadn't had intercourse since he left six weeks ago. You knew there was no way. But just the idea of knowing another cycle was ending had tears stinging behind your eyes.

When you heard the doorbell, you quickly washed your hands and rushed out to where Tramp was practically howling at the front door. "Chill out," you told him. "You'll be happy. You loved him last time."

"Hi," Cat said as soon as you opened the door, and you saw Hondo pull away in his green Chevy. Jeremiah was in her arms, and once again, he smiled when he saw you. Things at work were a lot better, including having several nice conversations with Cat.

"Sorry, little guy," you said softly as they came inside. "No Rooster this time."

Cat laughed. "I think your dog will suffice. He loves animals."

When you closed the door, you watched Tramp follow them over to the couch, and then he started licking Jeremiah's little hands nonstop while the baby laughed. "If he's annoying, I can put him out back for a bit."

"No," Cat said as she and her son both laughed. "This is great." And then Jeremiah broke free from her arms and stood with both hands on Tramp. And you swore your dog had never been happier either.

A little pang of sadness struck your heart as Tramp looked all too delighted at the attention he was being given. You were searching for a safe topic of conversation. Cat had been joining you for lunch on occasion, which was great. But now you found that you had so many friends, you needed to juggle your time with them. Cam and Cat were a little awkward around each other. And Cat wouldn't tell you exactly how she felt about Jake, but you knew Jake was sad and Cat was avoiding him.

So you asked her, "You still feel like hiding from Jake at work?" It seemed like a safe enough topic, and you almost laughed when she covered her face and collapsed dramatically against the arm of the couch.

"Please! You keep asking me about this!"

"I'm curious by nature," you claimed. "And you never really told me anything."

She glanced at you as Jeremiah went crawling across the floor after Tramp. "I'm still embarrassed that I even kissed him in the first place. Uncle Bernie and I had it out several times about all the push ups, but he was just trying to take care of me. And I know that sounds like an excuse, but... keeping someone like Jake away from me is probably his top priority while Jer and I are living with him."

You tried to keep your composure, because you and Cat seemed to finally be getting along, but you just couldn't understand why she wouldn't give Jake a chance for real. "He's a good guy, Cat. God... I can't even tell you how many times he's helped me out and made me feel safe."

She turned to face you where you sat at the other end of the couch. "He's exactly like my ex husband. A cocky, handsome aviator who is too smart for his own good."

You shrugged and kind of nodded, because that definitely sounded like Jake. "Well whatever your ex did to piss you off, I doubt Jake would be the same. Are you afraid he won't accept Jeremiah?"

She swallowed hard. "I'd rather not even find out where he stands on his opinions about my son. And listen, there's a reason why my ex husband never met Jeremiah. And it's the same reason I never let him know our son's social security number or where we ran off to. I'm sure he has a hunch that I was able to transfer to Top Gun, but Mike is definitely too scared to come sniffing around for more while I'm with Bernie."

You shook your head in confusion. "Come sniffing around for more of what?"

"Money," she said simply, but her jaw was set, and she looked ready for a fight. And you should have probably known all along that there was more than what she had told you over the past few months. You were pretty sure you were the only one who even knew about Jeremiah, besides Bradley and Cam. And if Cat was the type of person who took their time opening up to people, you were surprised that you were the one she was talking to about this.

"He wants your money?" you asked softly.

Since she borrowed your car, you knew she didn't have one, and she said that she was broke. But your jaw dropped open when she said, "Mike was dishonorably discharged from the navy for showing up to work drunk and drinking while on base. He tanked his own career, and nobody in Annapolis could even look at me the same after that."

"Why would he do that?"

She laughed, but she looked like she was going to cry. "Because I told him I was pregnant."

Jeremiah was laying on his back now while Tramp licked his neck, and he was giggling up a storm. "I'm so confused," you told her. "He didn't want you to get pregnant?"

"Well he told me he would be happy to have kids. But by the time I told him I was pregnant with Jer, he had already opened four credit cards in my name. He had already lost all of our savings. And he knew I was going to find out about all of it as soon as I mentioned us opening a bank account for our unborn child."

"Oh."

When she met your eyes, she shook her head. "He has a gambling addiction." You watched as she wiped at her cheek. "I used to own a beautiful house," she said, glancing around longingly. "I had a car. He and I had money saved. But he managed to lose all of it, plus the credit card advancements in my name. I owe more than half a million dollars in money that I didn't spend. Money that I never saw. And that doesn't include what I've paid to my lawyers. Mike did all of that while I thought we were building a life together."

"Holy shit," you whispered. You felt nauseous just thinking about it. And you were suddenly even more thankful for Bradley.

"So yeah... cocky, headstrong aviators might be my type on paper, but I can't get involved. And I'm sorry I was leading Jake on. But, it's not just him. I can't get serious with anyone when my life is a trainwreck that I will never be able to recover from. I'm going to be spending the rest of my life trying to make sure this doesn't all fall to him," she said, nodding toward where Jeremiah was now crawling back toward the couch with Tramp following right behind him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I don't know what else to say except that you didn't deserve any of that, and neither did Jeremiah."

She reached down to scoop him up into her arms as he yawned. "Yeah well, I hope you're smarter than me. I hope you had a prenup."

You sat quietly and watched as she kissed Jeremiah's forehead and reached into the diaper bag she brought with her so he could eat some cereal. Cat had been honest with you. She told you months ago that she was jealous of you, and now you knew why. You had all these things that you were taking for granted.

For some reason, you thought she ought to know that you'd been jealous all along, too. "You still have something so good though. Something I wish I had."

She looked at you like you'd completely lost it while Jeremiah ate some Cheerios. "What? A marriage that ended in shambles and a career that is hanging on by a thread? Or the inability to ever have someone take you seriously in a relationship ever again?"

"No. Jeremiah."

She looked at you, and her face dropped. "Oh." And maybe she realized that meant you and Bradley had been trying unsuccessfully, but you changed the subject before she could ask any questions.

"But that doesn't matter, really. And you know, there are some things we do have control over here."

"Like what?" she asked, and when you smiled softly, she smiled back.

"Jake. I think you might be surprised by him, Cat. I think he'd be good with Jeremiah."

"No," she replied right away. "I'd rather not even find out. Besides, it's already too late with Jake. Even if he was going to stop sleeping around, it's done. He asked me out at least fifteen times. And I said no at least fifteen times."

"If he asked you out again, would you say yes?"

You jumped several inches when your doorbell rang again, and Tramp ran for the door like he was a professional guard dog. "We didn't even order a pizza yet," you said as you stood. But the closer you got to the door, you thought you knew who it must be, and you answered it anyway.

"Angel," Jake drawled, bending to pet Tramp who immediately turned into a puppy again at the prospect of pets from one of his favorite people. "Just thought maybe you'd want to get dinner and head to the Hard Deck later?"

When you didn't respond right away, Jake pushed the door open wider and let himself inside. Then you watched him freeze up as he saw Cat sitting on your couch with Jeremiah in her arms. "Cat."

She looked absolutely mortified as she stood up, but she had nowhere to go. She was reliant upon Hondo coming back to pick her up, and Jake was staring right at Jeremiah. "Jake," she said so softly, you could barely hear her across the room.

He huffed out a short breath and ran his fingers through his hair, past the scar on his forehead from the last time he was deployed with Bradley. You weren't sure what you should do, but then he simply said, "You have a kid."

Cat's chin was in the air again, and you knew she wouldn't let Jake or anyone else say one negative thing about that child without consequences. "His name is Jeremiah."

"Jeremiah," Jake repeated, and two sets of matching dark eyes were looking right at him before Jeremiah yawned and fell asleep on his mom's chest. "He's adorable."

Cat sank slowly down so she was sitting on the couch once again, and she looked like the fight was gone, almost like she was exhausted now. You nudged Jake in the ribs and then reached for Tramp's leash where it hung near the door. "I'll be right back. Just going to take him out." But nobody was listening to you. Once the leash was clipped on his collar, Tramp pulled you out onto the front porch. You caught one last glimpse of Jake taking up residence in the spot on the couch you'd vacated, and then you closed the door.

You puttered around the yard with Tramp before deciding to just walk him down to the beach and back. But the early spring air was chilly when the wind picked up across the sand, and you wished you'd taken a minute to grab Bradley's sweatshirt from the hook as well.

Playing a comparison game in your mind would get you nowhere, you knew that. Everything Cat told you was completely fucked up, but she had to know how that Jeremiah was worth it. And you knew that Bradley was enough, even if it was just the two of you. But now you were a little worried about Jake putting his foot in his mouth.

When you hustled back down your block, shivering as the breeze picked up some more, you saw that Jake's car was still in your driveway. And when you cautiously let yourself back inside with Tramp, you found Cat and Jake sitting very close together on the couch. And Jake was holding Jeremiah while he slept.

-------------------------

Bradley knew it would be a short call. The mission was scheduled for a few days from now, weather depending. But if he was allowed even five minutes with you, he'd take it any day of the week.

When you answered his facetime call, you were sitting in your office with your lunch in front of you. "Roo!" you gasped, dropping your fork into your burrito bowl. "I miss you!"

"I miss you, too, Sweetheart."

He watched as you turned to someone off screen and said, "Okay, thanks."

"Who are you eating lunch with?"

"Cat," you replied quickly, and he was a little surprised by that answer. "She just stepped out into the hallway so we could talk. Please tell me you'll be home on time, Bradley."

He smiled and said, "Haven't been notified of any changes, so I think so. Please tell me you got plenty of hot sauce in there."

You laughed and tipped your lunch so he could see all of the green hot sauce. "Absolutely. You know how I like it."

"I do," he replied softly as he examined your face. Beautiful. Just gorgeous. And you looked so much happier now. You looked like you'd been sleeping better.

"I wish I was sharing my lunch with you."

He nodded. "I've been thinking a lot about our dining room. And how it feels so good to hold you on my lap while we eat a meal off of one plate."

You gasped softly. "I've been thinking about that too." When your eyes drifted closed, you added, "And how you wrap your left arm around me and kiss my neck while he eat."

"Baby Girl." His voice was raspy, and he was aching to be with you right now. "We'll do everything."

But he only had one more minute with you, and he wanted to know how you were doing. When he asked, you said, "I can tell you when you get home. Tell me about the mission."

"I can't say much. Teams get selected tomorrow morning. Flight is weather dependent. You know the drill."

"I do. I just want you to be safe," you told him softly. "Need you to come home."

"I'll be there so soon. I love you."

And after that, he still felt so good as he got to the classroom a few minutes early the next morning. Admiral Dean smirked at him as he took his usual seat, and the room started filling up. Other than the fact that he had to stare at the back of Slayer's head, he was ready to get this mission in the air and get home.

"As you well know," Admiral Dean started, "the final details will not be set in stone until the day of the mission. So we are left with two options, and we need to be clear on both of them. Option A: the two teams will fly in formation and strike the communications tower first before proceeding to the enemy base. This is the preferred option as we would be removing multiple streams of communication first, but we may need to switch to an alternate flight path if they have too many aircrafts in the air. So that brings us to Option B, in which you will strike the base first and then loop around to the communications tower."

Bradley's brain was literally numb from listening to this information over and over again. He understood the importance of what needed to be done, but this was overkill now. When he glanced at Nat, she looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. Until Dean spoke again.

"If there are no questions, that brings us to team selections. Four aircrafts will be flying this mission. We've chosen the best, and I am already convinced of the success of this mission. The teams will be as follows: Slayer will be paired with Phoenix and Bob."

His heart sank. Shit. That was supposed to be Bradley's pairing. Fucking Slayer. But it probably didn't matter too much if he was flying alongside a different two-seater, just as long as he was in the air with his friends. Really, all four aircrafts were responsible for keeping each other safe, so he wouldn't be too far from them at all.

"And the second team will be Charmer paired with Terror and Mack."

It took a second to register. But slowly, it seemed like everyone in the room was turning to stare at Bradley. Admiral Dean looked smug. Nat and Bob looked distraught. And Slayer looked damn near delighted. Then Charmer turned to him and laughed.

And Bradley had the fleeting thought that his career was over. He was the oldest aviator in the room by a few years. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was falling short with proving himself in the air just as he had been messing things up on the ground with you. And that sick, embarrassed feeling in his stomach was there to stay as all those thoughts took up permanent residence in his mind.

-----------------------------

Oh. That stings. That really hurt my feelings. Bradley could fly circles around them. And how do we feel about Jake? Cat? Jeremiah? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

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bookyeom · 10 months

Note

hi leslie!!!!!!! there were so many good prompts it was hard to narrow it down, but i finally decided on:

vernon + “you’re important too”

hope you have a great week and a fun time writing!! 💜✨

Hi Savv!!! Thank you so much for this. (Fun fact: my birthday was this past Sunday and I may or may not have based this slightly in truth. Birthdays are hard.)

Thank u for submitting!!!! xx

A/N: If you read and enjoy this, please reblog and/or send a comment! I'd love to know what you think.

Pairing: Vernon x Reader Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: kissing, sad reader

Today is your birthday.

Today is your birthday, and there’s a room full of all the people you care about celebrating you, with the perfect decorations and a stunning cake and flowers and balloons and the perfectly curated playlist.

It’s your birthday, and everything has gone right, so nothing should logically be able to explain why you’re sitting on the floor of your room, your back against the bed, tears streaming silently down your cheeks.

The simplest explanation is this: you’re tired.

You’re tired of doing everything for everyone else and feeling like your energy is never matched. Why is it always you who remembers the little things? Why is it always you who plans the best parties and surprises, who knows what your closest friends like? Why is it always you who will go the extra mile without being asked?

You’d planned out your whole birthday on your own. You’d picked out the decorations, made the playlist, done it all because none of your friends had offered to do it for you. They love you, you know that, but why didn’t anyone take over? Would they have planned something for you if you’d left it alone? You don’t know, and you think the not knowing is what has you currently sitting on your bedroom floor. One minute you’d been in the kitchen, looking at how cute the cake was that you’d picked out; the next, you could feel yourself spiralling, and you couldn’t even say exactly why.

You’re tired, and you feel selfish for needing a minute to feel bad for yourself in the middle of your own party. You feel silly for crying, silly for not knowing what it was that set you off, silly for needing to hide away for a little bit.

You pride yourself on being a fairly level-headed individual. You can be dramatic at the best of times, of course, but you always try your best to keep your cool. You never want to cause a scene around the people you care about, or make anyone feel bad, especially about something as trivial as your emotions. The only thing that always throws a wrench in your plans to play it cool is that you will cry involuntarily at the most inopportune moments, no matter how much you try to avoid it.

That said, you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding your mini breakdowns lately – gotten better at sneaking away into bathrooms and side rooms to be alone before the tears start to fall, better at convincing everyone that nothing is amiss when you return. This time, even in the middle of your own party, you’d made it to your room without alerting anyone, and you’d thought no one was any the wiser.

You thought. You thought you’d gotten better at hiding your emotional spirals. You thought no one noticed when you were gone. You should have known that Vernon doesn’t count.

Vernon — your boyfriend of only a few months, and already one of the best things that's ever happened to you. Your wonderful and patient and funny and kind boyfriend. He’s a little clueless sometimes, but you don’t mind – you’ve always been a good communicator, and he’s always been a good listener. You promise to tell him when you’re upset, and he promises to ask if he’s unsure. That’s the rule.

Which you may or may not have definitely broken in the last month.

You hadn’t told him anything about how upset you were while planning your own birthday party. You had brushed off his offers to help, telling him you had it all under control, which was true – the party planning part, at least. What you don’t have any control over is feeling sad that none of your friends had offered to plan your day for you, but Vernon can’t fix that, so why should you have told him? He’s a chill guy, letting you take the reins because you had said you wanted to, oblivious to your inner turmoil. It isn’t his fault that he doesn’t know how you’re feeling – it’s your fault for not telling him — and you figure it doesn’t matter, anyway. You’re the one being silly about it all, and you didn’t feel the need for him to be dragged into it.

So you hadn’t told him anything.

Which is why saying you’re surprised to hear him knocking on your bedroom door only minutes after you disappeared from your own festivities would be an understatement.

“Hey.” His quiet voice, followed by the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut, has another fresh round of tears rolling down your cheeks. You squeeze your eyes shut, like that will somehow make the tears invisible to him, not opening them even as you feel him take a seat next to you. You really don’t want him to see you like this, but there’s no choice now. You’re grateful that he doesn’t comment, simply taking your hand and bringing it into his lap, thumb gently brushing against the back of it as he waits for you to calm down.

“Sorry,” you finally manage to whisper.

“Apology rejected.”

You feel the corners of your mouth tilt up at the phrase you both use when the other makes an unnecessary apology, even when they’ve done nothing wrong. It’s a joke between the two of you that serves as a reminder that you’re safe with each other. That you're safe with him.

It’s quiet for another few moments before he speaks again. “A birthday party doesn’t really work if the one being celebrated isn’t there, you know.”

You frown, wiping at your cheek with your free hand, finally meeting his eyes for the first time in a while. “Sorry,” you say again.

Your boyfriend gives you a stern look but doesn’t comment this time, a hand reaching across to brush off any remaining tears from your face. “You were so excited for today. Did something happen?”

You bite your lip with a shrug, looking down and away from him again. “Nothing really happened. I just got overwhelmed, I guess.”

“Sensory overload?”

“No,” you say softly. “Just… feelings.”

“I can see that,” he smiles gently, his tone soft with just the perfect amount of teasing, and you’re grateful for him yet again as he lets you process. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he just sits with you in silence, nothing but the sound of your breathing and the muted boom boom boom of Britney Spears in the background. Vernon squeezes your hand once, twice, before standing up and pulling you up and onto your bed. He lies down and brings you with him, moving onto his side to see you better, and you lie on your stomach, your arms folded so you can rest your head.

“I don’t want to sound selfish, or make you feel bad, or make anyone feel bad, or…” You trail off, feeling the tears start to well up again, and before you know it you’re crying once more. You feel absolutely ridiculous, not even sure how to explain how you’re feeling to yourself, let alone to someone else. “I don’t want to tell you because I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.”

“Hey,” Vernon says softly. “What’s our rule? You need to tell me these things or I won’t know.” He pauses, fingers tracing the softest of circles up and down your spine “And I want to know.”

You feel a rush of guilt. You know you should have told him, that he would have helped, that he would have understood, or at least tried to. So why didn’t you?

“I just feel silly,” you admit, tears still flowing freely. “I just…” You sniffle, and Vernon watches you quietly, shifting so that his position mimics yours, his head moving to rest on his own arms. “I just wish that people did for me what I do for them. I wish that my friends knew what I wanted and did it without being told. I wish I didn’t feel like I had to plan my own party or I wouldn’t get one at all. I know that all sounds selfish, I know it does, but I just wish that I didn’t have to ask for someone to know exactly what I want!”

As soon as you finish talking, you’re immediately being pulled into a sturdy, warm chest. Your boyfriend wraps his arms entirely around you, pulling you in as tight as you can go. You have a fleeting thought amidst the tears that you’re so incredibly lucky to get this side of him – the warm, comforting, soft side. Everyone who meets him loves him – he’s shy, but witty, and he’s polite and thoughtful and a joy to be around, and though he doesn’t often approach people first, he has no trouble making friends — but not everyone gets to be wrapped up in his arms like this.

“First of all,” he murmurs as he pulls back just a little, enough to let your heads rest on the pillow as he looks at you. “You’re not selfish – you’re maybe the least selfish person I know.”

You sigh, but don’t offer a rebuttal, and a hand lifts to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You try to push down the guilt you feel for complaining at all, leaning into the feeling of Vernon’s fingers gently threading through your hair.

“You do so much for everyone around you all the time, it’s only fair for you to expect that in return,” he continues. “But the truth is that you’re not always going to get it back in the same way, even from the people who love you the most. That doesn’t mean we don’t love you in different ways. Think about when that girl at work gives you all of the red Skittles, or when you get a text with a song rec from Jihoon. Or When Seokmin buys you three bags of chips because he knows you like at least one of them but can’t remember which one.” Vernon beams when you crack a smile at that. “How many of your friends helped you decorate? How many of them did exactly what you asked them to do because they know you love to plan and wanted to help you make your vision come true? That’s love, too, isn’t it?”

You nod. You know he’s right. It’s quiet for a moment as you let his words sink in, your fingers idly playing with the chain around his neck.

“What about how you keep a list of my favourite snacks and our anniversary date in a note on your phone so you don't forget them?” You watch as his cheeks flush crimson as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you hold back a smile at his reaction.

“You know about that?” He sounds mortified, turning his face to bury it in the pillow. You can’t help but giggle now, your hand lifting to gently run through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Mhm. Saw it when you were pulling up your grocery list the other day.”

“Well then, yeah,” he admits begrudgingly, turning his face to look at you again. You teasingly pull at his earlobe before your fingers softly trace his jaw. “That counts.”

“As love?” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it, your hand freezing against his cheek, but Vernon barely bats an eyelash.

“Yeah.”

You stare at one another for a moment, the air around you suddenly tense. You can barely hear the music anymore as he looks at you. He doesn’t seem phased by your comment at all, and you vow to bring it up later – but you’ll leave it for now.

“Okay,” you whisper in affirmation, and he smiles.

“Okay.”

You kiss him first. It’s soft, a quick press of your mouth to his, but it has your toes curling regardless. And before you can pull away completely, his hand finds your waist and he pulls you back in, mouth moving slowly against yours as he kisses you senseless.

You’re startled when he pulls away suddenly, eyebrows raised almost to the sky, and you blink back at him in surprise. “What?”

“You distracted me!”

You let out a snort. “Sorry.”

“I’ll accept that rightful apology,” he says, and you roll your eyes as he continues. “What I was saying before you attacked me was,” he dives right back in as though there had been no ‘I-may-have-admitted-I-love-you’ or make-out interludes, “that you’re important, too.” He waits for it to settle, lets you sit for a minute in the discomfort, knowing how hard those words are for you to accept.

“Okay,” you say quietly, and he smiles.

“You can ask for help when you need it, or you can do it all by yourself, whatever you want. You just have to ask. So many of us would have planned a party for you if we knew that’s what you wanted,” he tells you. “What you want matters. It’s just that sometimes, you need to tell other people what that is. We’re not all A+ mind-readers like you.” He’s grinning now at his own jab, and you pout.

“I’m not a mind-reader,” you protest. “I’m an empath. It’s different!”

Vernon is beaming, and you know he’s pleased that he’s distracted you from being sad. “How about using some of that empathy to come back to the awesome party you planned so I don’t have to talk to your friends alone?”

Tagging some loves @wqnwoos @dejavernon @tae-bebe @savventeen

#vernon x reader #chs x reader #chs fic #chs fluff #vernon fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #vernon x you #seventeen fluff #my writing

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bluewhale52 · 10 months

Text

Little Black Book: The One You Return To

Summary: There are a seven names in your Little Black Book, and you have lost all of them… or have you?

Pairing: can’t really reveal who the pairing here bc spoilers! So I’ll just say member(s?) x female oc

Rating: Explicit 🔞

Genre: e2l, S2L, established relationship, fuck buddies

Warning: mention of masturbation, mention of sex toy, a bit of angst, 69, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, ass eating, unprotected sex, mmf threesome, multiple orgasm, multiple partners

A/N: This marks the end of the series, as well as the beginning of my hiatus. Real life hasn't been kind time wise, and writing- once a way to escape- has become more of a burden and it's been very hard to put my thoughts into words for the past few months. I will leave this account open, albeit inactive, and hopefully one day I can come back and share my horny smutty ideas with you again. Love you all. Be kind to everone. Borahae.

Series Masterlist: Little Black Book

You tossed your vibrator away in frustration.

This was maddening. You used to have seven- SEVEN!- men at your disposal, and now... you had been reduced to a battery operated toy.

And it sucked.

It felt nothing like the real thing. It carried none of the musky scents of your partners. It simply whirred and made mechanical noises that were so far from the desperate groans and lusty moans that used to fill your ears. It produced no sweats, it carried no weight that could pin you down, it was just.... pathetic.

Pathetic. This was what you were.

Seven men, and none was within your reach.

After the breakup, a chasm broke out, something Jungkook liked to compare to the Avengers Civil War, with Jungkook and Yoongi taking Namjoon's side. You did not blame them for it, you understood why they were there. Jungkook obviously were dating Namjoon's little sister, and although that did not last long, it was clear where his loyalty was. Yoongi was more guilt-ridden- having your ex-boyfriend as his song writing partner would make things very awkward if you and him went back to your old schedule. You got it, you really did, and in a way you felt grateful that Namjoon had such good friends by his side, even at your expense.

Because you figured, you had Seokjin and Hoseok, right? The two who had been with you from the beginning and who had been with you through your ups and downs. The two who were the least likely to ask for any kind of commitment from you, and the most likely to give you the kind of fun you wanted without any questions asked.

Only... you seemed to have ruined that too.

It was interesting that soon after Namjoon and you called it quit, the lust came back with a vengeance. The post-break up sex you had made up for the weeks and weeks you both had gone without. It was angry, it was rough, it was as if you were reminding each other what you would miss, a lustful taunt to be the first to grovel and beg- for what, none of you knew exactly, other than you both needed to fuck each other's brains out. One last time. Over and over.

Post sex however, you went into a spiral. Showing up at Hoseok or Seokjin's apartment, body sore and heart aching, many a night you spent on their sofa, either crying or staring into space, while Seokin gamed or Hoseok monitored his dance videos. You always woke up the next morning in their spare bedrooms with your eyes swollen, they patiently fed you breakfast, waiting until your grief stage moved to anger stage. Only you were never able to move on, being stuck with your ex-boyfriend in an unhealthy loop. Seokjin finally had had enough, and so it was one afternoon in the office, Seokjin sat you down, glared at you until you blocked Namjoon's number, then called Yoongi to check if your ex had done the same with yours. When your boss got the confirmation, he patted your head and invited you to dinner at his place.

"To make sure you're okay, and that you don't unblock him."

And somehow Hoseok got in on it too, taking turns with Seokjin to watch you like a hawk until you finally moved on. You were grateful to them, but regretful too because things changed then. You still found them attractive, very painfully so, but... that was it. Nothing more. Them caring for you had erased any desire once harboured for each other. How and why this happened... that was something you were not willing to psychoanalyse.

And thus, here you were in your predicament. Naked in bed, with your toy discarded and hopefully, soon forgotten.

You unplugged your phone from the charger and scrolled through your address book. From seven, reduced to five. The last two candidates... well, that was harder to deal with than then five you had just crossed off. Taehyung, you would guess, would never talk to you until you sorted your shit with Jimin. Jimin, you would guess, would slam the door in your face if you even dared to show up at his place. And that also if you could ever swallow your pride and unblock his number.

You bit your lip.

The two blocked numbers in your phone were the two who would most welcome you, regardless where you stood with them now. You just knew it, you had a gut feeling, either Namjoon or Jimin would not turn you down. But, to make the proposition, you had to first unblock them. Just one of them. Which one, though?

Going back to Namjoon scared you- you did not want to be reduced to that crying mess again, and you were worried of Seokjin and Hoseok's reactions. Would they be angry? Upset? Would they leave you the way Jungkook and Yoongi did?

But Jimin... there was so much pride and ego you had to swallow to reach out to him. And then you'd have to explain why you ghosted him all this while. Taehyung no doubt would have updated him after you and Namjoon had watched his band play all those months ago. You knew Jimin could be petty, and you probably- no, definitely- deserved whatever anger Jimin had towards you. But you did owe him a massive apology, and maybe this was time for you to put your big girls pants on and show him how you had grown?

Namjoon or Jimin... how would you choose? Flip a coin? Just walk out and see where your feet take you?

You screamed into your empty bedroom. This was too frustrating. You just wanted a dick for fuck's sake, why was it so difficult?

Huffing, you got out of bed and went to your wardrobe to get dressed. Something casual, easy to take off but not that easy because you were not that desperate. No, no. Not desperate. Not at all. Your everyday underwear, at home bra, an old tshirt, hoodie and pants. Yes, perfect. Casual. Understated sexy. Good.

You picked your phone from the bed. Back to the main question- who would you call. The ex or the who could've been. Pick one. But how? Don't think. Just pick one for fuck's sake.

And so you did. You unblocked the number. You shot him a quick message. Hey, can I come over?

The reply came as quickly. Sure. Still the same passcode.

Same address. Same passcode to his door. Your heart clenched. It was too late to back out. There would be a lot of explaining to do, but you were going to get that dick. Hopefully.

You grabbed your bag and walked out of your apartment.

TONIGHT

He moans shamelessly as you take his cock whole, the head pushing against your throat, your lips adjusting around his girth. Laying on top of him, you readjust so you can take him more, but he pulls you back so he can continue eating your pussy. Both your mouths and tongues working on each other's ex, drawing out muffled moans and groans that only add to the pleasure.

A finger enters your cunt, then two, the pace frantic and hurried, making you unable to focus on sucking his cock. Your hand takes over, stroking his full length, wet and slick from your saliva.

"Ah, fuck Princess, you're so wet," he hums against your sex.

You arch your back when he dives in again, his tongue and fingers pulling screams out of you now. His cock forgotten, you lie helplessly on top of him, surrendering your body to him, for him to take you to your climax. He pulls you higher, to finger fuck you faster and harder, while his tongue whirls over your clit. Your body writhe, your legs shake. He removes his fingers and focuses on your clit now.

Close, so so close.

Then you feel it. His hands on your ass cheeks, groping and squeezing them, parting them. Your holes clench tight. A cool liquid drips and slides down in between, sending you into a mad frenzy. Then another tongue touches your rim.

Wait- another tongue?

You jerk at the realisation and attempt to look back, only for a hand to press your head down against your lover's crotch. Mind hazy and mouth hanging open, you could only stick your tongue out to lick whatever part of his cock you could reach. The tongues behind you keep going, wet squelches and slobbery noises fill your ears until they are all blacked out as you cum, hard.

Your body spasms through your orgasm and still vibrates when you are flipped over to lie on your back. Your eyelids are heavy, but you force them open.

Jimin sits between your legs licking his lips, a satisfied smirk on his face. Next to him is Taehyung, all puppy dog eyes as he slithers up your body, kissing your stomach, breasts and then against your lips, he murmurs, "Sorry I'm late, darling."

Whatever response you have turns into a moan as Jimin slides into you. Taehyung swallows your moans, then peppers your jaws with more kisses as his best friend starts fucking you hard. He watches you sliding up and down on the bed, large hands grazing your pert nipples, his mouth never far from your neck.

"Feels good, Princess?"

"Yeah," you pant, "so good."

Taehyung chuckles and nips your neck. You yelp. "Sorry darling, I can't resist. I'll mark your tits later, okay?"

Before you can answer, Taehyung moves back so Jimin can bring your legs up to your chest, practically folding you in half. He fucks you even harder now, the sounds of his skin meeting yours and the bed banging against the wall are ringing loud, competing with your moans that are slowly turning into wails, with how deep he is hitting you inside now.

"Oh fuck... fuck..."

"Gonna cum, Princess? Gonna cream my cock?" He goads you.

You whimper.

"Gonna make you all nice and wet for Tae, hmm?"

Your eyes start to roll back.

"Fuck, Princess, that's it, cum with me. Cum!"

You let out a soundless scream as your cunt clamps down hard, and with a few more thrusts, Jimin empties himself in you. He gives you a deep kiss, whispering what a good girl you are, before removing himself from you completely, moving aside to let his best friend take you now.

Taehyung pulls you up to sit you on top of him, guiding his cock into your messy hole. You squirm and tense, sore from Jimin's fucking but still greedy for Taehyung's monster dick. Slowly, slowly you sink onto him, until he is fully seathed inside you.

"That's it, darling," he praises you, "I knew you can take it."

You weakly kiss his neck. His large hands are holding your hips. "Now relax and let me fuck you, hmm?"

"Fuck me good, Tae," you sweetly beg.

And fuck you good he does. Slow long thrusts that turn into manic pumping, bouncing you like a rag doll on top of him. Jimin sits himself behind you, kissing your back and shoulders, then wrapping his fingers around your neck.

"Fuck, who knew you like being choked so much," Taehyung pants, "she got so tight, Min-ah."

"Good," Jimin nips your ear. "Let's see if we can make you squirt again, hmm Princess?"

His free hand snakes down and starts rubbing your clit, as Taehyung continues pounding into you. Your stomach tightens, your legs shake, and a heat explodes within you, you lose control of your body but your two lovers are there to hold you, to paint your inside further, to claim you.

When you gain some sort of coherence, you find yourself cleaned and tucked in bed, sandwiched between the two men. Taehyung has a koala hold on you, as he always does when he sleeps, but Jimin is gently rubbing your head, watching you. You blink, cheeks slowly heating up in embarrassment at the tender way he is looking at you.

"I'm glad you came back to me," he whispers, "to us."

You ignore the sudden tight grip in your heart. "Me too."

And you mean it. You are glad out of seven, you are able to save these two.

#bts smut #seokjin smut #Yoongi smut #hoseok smut #Namjoon smut #Jimin smut #taehyung smut #Jungkook smut #little black book

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yes-asil · 2 months

Note

(sorry if this ask goes through multiple times my internet is WACK)

i have!! a ghost boys question!! (absolutely adore these past few pages btw, as a comicfury reader pages 470-473 have been SO cute and im literally crying with joy that theyre reunited ive missed them sm its unbelievable i care them so much ANYWAY)

so i read your fic on ao3 a while back and for no reason in particular, definitely not writing a fic, can i ask for details abt matt and sickness? not like the chronic passing out/near death biz he deals with when hes suffering from ghosts, i know thatll get explained later in the story, but like if he were to get a normal illness. like. say. theres this thing of stress fevers popping up for people who work themselves too hard and you mentioned matt having fever in your ao3 fic which i was rereading earlier because its SO good and i love it but like that fic was focused on the coughing and his lungs giving out lol and i am just wondering if perhaps you would be willing to share how hed deal with being like... aware of being out of commission. being able to feel the fever and physically not being able to be unconscious bc of like the insomnia aspect because i feel like he can be so nonchalant because hes never conscious when hes miserable so just curious on how hed handle having no choice but to acknowledge it. how hed deal with having normal person illness that isnt him about to die. in my head hes ofc going to keep working anyway and make things worse bc thats how he is but i would love to hear your thoughts if you dont mind giving them!!

for no reason in particular. there is definitely not already 1k words of this which will not spiral into something more ahaha wink thank you for all you do this comic makes me so feral(/positive) my friends have learned of the boys through osmosis of me not shutting up every time a new page posts

I'll start this with an: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

So happy you like the comic so much!!! And that you rope other people into it is so fun, I'm glad you like my boys!

As for the question; Matt ignores feeling bad no matter for what reason. In his head he just goes "what doesn't kill me, makes me stronger" before he proceeds to knock himself out. When he wakes up, he continues the cycle until his body is back to normal by sheer force of will. It doesn't matter if it is a week long sniffly nose, a dry cough spell that lasts a month or his funny little ghost powers pulling him under. He WILL work and he WILL make himself useful.

The only times he accepts defeat and goes to bed to rest while actually awake are when Lukas' worries so hard it makes both of them want to cry and when Cathrine starts using her soft "I'm really worried right now I can't even act harsh" voice.

He acts pretty much the same then, just a bit huffy and restless

#ask #but yeah Matthew is not an ungrateful patient #he just doesn't see the point when he will be fine anyway #and if not then whoopsie daisy guess I died from a fever #put that on the gravestone #Lukas and Cathrine don't think that's funny at all

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romanarose · 1 year

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Fucker Notices Everything: Holiday edition

Marc Spector X Fem!Reader

That’s right kids, observant Marc is back, simple bc I found myself doing this weird thing and I wish I had people in my life who cared enough to notice when I was spiraling. I’ll be okay. This too, shall pass.

Warnings: Eating disorder recovery, bulimia recovery, bulimia mentions, food restriction, negative self talk, feeling like you have to deserve food, weird digestive stuff, alcohol mentions,binge and purge cycles, references to forced throwing up,talk about getting drunk during holidays but it’s fun, brief mentions of sibling tensions but it’s all good, using alcohol to cope with family, a couple gross out jokes.

***************

January 1st.

You were hung over. Great. New Years Eve with your family had been a lot of fun, surprisingly, and a lot of drinking, Marc graciously driving you home and taking care of you all night and all morning. You had eaten sporadically throughout the day, little bits to not overwhelm your tummy, but after an afternoon nap with Marc, who was still asleep in bed, you wanted a snack.

Staring at the fridge, you propped your hand on a hip as you viewed your options. Lot of deserts, high salt and fat foods, and some left over roasted vegetables, which normally you loved, but god, just you want to eat pie. The holidays had gone significantly better than they usually did. Marc Spector, surprisingly, was a good barrier between you and family, directing conversation away from topics that would rile everyone up, helping you not engage when your siblings tried to pick a fight, and pulling you back when you tried to pick one in turn.

Without the high nerves that family events usually caused, you have eaten and drank happily, enjoying your mom and grandmas food and the drinks your uncle made, all of which had lead to you feeling fucking gross. The nasty side effects of your drinking a few nights ago hadn’t helped, triggering your mind back to the place it hadn’t gone in a while, a desire to eject everything inside you. You hadn’t throw up from alcohol today, as Marc had paced you last night, but you couldn’t help wonder if you ate the pie, you could throw it up and blame it on the hangover. It was hard to get anything past the fucker, but you could try…

You feel the fat on your hips. Fuck. You had definitely gained wait this week. You thought about the jeans you tried to put on for new years that wouldn’t button, and how Marc had stared at your ass in the leggings you wore, but it didn’t help calm your mind.

You give your sides a squeeze. No pie, no ham, no potatoes. No eating at all if you could help it. Another squeeze, this time on your stomach. You close the fridge. You don't need that.

“What was that?” Marc’s groggy morning voice called from the bed.

God fucking dammit.

"What was what, baby?" You feign innocence as your turn from the fidge.

Marc sat up, brow furrowed as he wipes the sleep out of his eyes. "You squeezed your stomach, then closed the fridge."

You try to hide the sigh, knowing that would only spur him on. "It's nothing honey, just a weird habit I have"

"No." He shook his head, standing up and coming towards you, looking concerned. "I know all your weird habits. Popping zits in the mirror and leaving the puss for me to clean up is a wierd habbit" He smiled, softly. "Sniffing your right armpit and making a disgusted face as though you didn't know it would smell like that is a weird habit"

"Ew, baby" You giggle.

He took your shoulders, looking at you intently. "That, that was deliberate. What were you doing" He looked like he knew the answer.

You groan, conceding. "Don't make me say it"

He looked sad. "You were convincing yourself not to eat, weren't you?"

Pausing, you close your eyes and nod, a few tears starting to sting at your eyes. "I'm sorry" Your voice cracks at the confession.

"Oh, baby" Marc takes you in his strong arms. "Why are you apologizing."

There was no stopping the crying now. "You didn't sign up for this, I was doing better."

"Didn't sign up for what?" His tone was soft, but confused.

"A girlfriend with an eating disorder" You broke down in sobs.

Marc let you cry for a moment, rubbing your back. When you calmed down a bit, he spoke. "Baby, you told me about you're eating disorder on our third date when you still refused to eat in front of me, and I made my decision then and there that I would stick with you no matter what. I signed up for all of it on day three, okay? I love you, and I'm very sorry you're hurting right now. Can you tell me if you know what triggered it? Did your dad say something?"

Your dad was known for making comments about your weight ever since you were going through puberty and no longer looked like a stick. Although you knew it wasn't realistic to blame an entire life-threatening eating disorder on your daddy issues, you hadn't even considered your body like that until his first comment was made.

"No... it's started when I was getting dressed and wanted to wear my favorite jeans... they didn't fit..."

Marc pulled back to looked at you. "The ones with all the holes and bell bottoms? They fit you just fine two weeks ago when we went to the movie?" You had taken Steven to see the new Avatar movie. He was the only person you knew who was actually excited about it, so you had surprised him with tickets. Marc looked you up and down with a cocked eyebrow. "They fit you real well"

You smile finally, giving his arm a little push. "Yeah, until I gained weight over the holidays” Between multiple days of Hanukkah with Marc's dad, and Christmas and new year's with your family, there had been a lot of calories.

"Baby..." He chastised softly. "You did not go up an entire pant size in two weeks"

"But they didn't fit!"

His strong hands moved to cup your face. "Honey, you are bloated. I am too" He patted his lil tum tum you loved so much. How could you love it on him but not yourself?

Your frown still. "I seem to be a whole lot moreso"

He laughed your name out ever so slightly. "You are lactose intolerant, and you've been drinking a fuck ton of spiked eggnog. It's a wonder you haven't shit your pants yet."

"Marc!" You slap his arm and laugh, feeling better.

Gifting you with a gentle but passionate kiss, he gestured to the fridge. "Now, I won't make you eat anything you don't want to, but we have lots of good food, or I can cook you up something, if that's better?"

You consider for a moment, your hand inadvertantly going to squeeze your side again, but Marc grabbed it, stopping you. You decide. "Maybe we can have some of the left over veggies first, then pie?"

"Ah!" He grinned. "Genius." Marc pulled you in for another huge, kissing your head. A pause of hesitation "And... sweetheart?" Marc sounded nervous; a bit more uncertain than the self-assured mask he tended to wear.

"Yes, my love?" You encouraged him, never wanting him to feel like he had to hide anything this you.

He sounded borderline scared as he finished his request, concerning you. “Can we… maybe keep the bathroom door… can we not shut it all the way… for a few days?”

You realized that he was, in fact, scared. Scared for you. Of you relapsing. If was your turn to reassure him. "Yes, baby, of course. Thank you for always protecting me."

*********************

Thanks for reading <3 I've been a bit out of my schedule. When I was in school and worked, I know what I'd eat and where. Right now, however, I'm all over the place with scheduling and it's throwing off my eating. I'll forget to eat all day and then binge, or eat several large meals... Idk, it's throwing me off. I'm serious when I said my eating disorder was life threatening, and an essential part of recovery for me was a regular eating schedule.

I have also been struggling with sleep. IDK what it is, but I am usually an incredibly sound sleeper. Like I am fall asleep anywhere and stay asleep (I've fallen asleep some strange places). My mom says she noticed I'll just fall asleep in one position and just. Stay exactly like that. Lately I wake up shivering bc my blankets are gone. I must be tossing and turning at night. I havn't had the nightmares in a while and I really really hope they dont come back bc they just retraumatize me all over again. I think the bad sleep is fucking things up for me...

anyway, I hope everyone had a good holiday season. It's easy for me to say don't worry about your weight, but it's hard in reality to practice. Just remember that the weight you feel is probably just bloating or a temporary bit of gain. Once you are back in your schedule, you'll probably go back to your normal. I love you.

tagging some homies I love.

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @kittyofalltrades @welcometostayingawake @in-between-the-cafes @juneknight @jake-g-lockley

#marc spector #marc spector reader #marc spector fluff #Marc Spector Angst #Marc spector hurt comfort #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight fluff #marc spector needs a hug #marc spector x reader #marc spector you #marc spector moon knight #oscar isaac #tw eating disorder #eating disoder trigger warning #bulimia trigger warning #bulimia

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johannestevans · 11 months

Text

Bunch of new pieces this week!

Good evening!

Apologies for the lack of email last week, and the lack of bonus erotica episode too - I'm traveling back and forth at the moment as I try to sort out flat stuff, and unfortunately my asthma is kicking my ass at the moment and making it really hard to sit and record audio even when I have the time. I'm hoping after some rest my chest will chill out a bit and I'll be able to record by next week, but unfortunately it's not predictable.

I had a great time at Bristol Pride and met some of you guys, so if that was you, thanks so much for saying hello!

I will be at Leeds Pride in August, too, so looking forward to that.

Before I get to media recommendations and my new works published in the past two weeks, just your reminder that I am now running a trans erotica publication on Medium!

I'm reccing a favourite in my Media Recs section below, but since starting off, there's 20 new erotic pieces there to peruse, and I'm so, so excited to see a broad swathe of authors and works as time goes on and the publication reaches more people.

Trans Erotica on Medium

Please don't feel that you have to be transmasc or MLM to submit just because I am, by the way, I'd love to see more transfem and trans woman authors, as well as lesbians and WLW, submitting too!

Here are the Submission Guidelines, and here's a basic guide to Medium to get you started if you're new to the platform. Want a prompt to get you started? Here's the July 2023 prompt set.

Media Recs

Fashioning a Fop by Damien Locke- Short fiction. An 18th century tale of a trans man discovering himself through dressing in men’s clothing for the first time. This piece is fucking spectacular, so gorgeously written and with such wonderful 1700s-style prose, very hot, very fun!

What's in the Tea? by Achilles King - Short fiction. 18+ Erotica. Cis M/M and Cis M/Trans M. This is a gorgeous little piece playing with massage and the drugging effects of a particular tea, and I love the power play in this one.

The Music Man (1962, dir. Morton DaCosta) - A musical! I've been in the mood for musicals the past few days, and I enjoyed this one a lot more than I expected - a lot of the music has really stuck with me, I love the brass band stuff and the rapid patter pace of the show, especially because I love a conman. With that said, Marian Paroo is a ridiculous name for a woman - the librarian love interest should be a man. I also watched and enjoyed Sweet Charity (1969, dir. Bob Fosse), and I never realised Big Spender was from this show! So that was fun.

I had a gay movie marathon with my boyfriend, Lewis, so first we watched A League Of Their Own (1992, dir. Penny Marshall) and Thelma and Louise (1991, dir. Ridley Scott). These are both great films, obviously - A League of Their Own is a semi-biographical story about the first female baseball league in the USA during the war, and the second is a crime drama with two besties/lovers stuck in an escalating spiral after one of them shoots an attempted rapist. Lewis was surprised that Thelma and Louise is actually gay, so just FYI, it really is actually gay! It's not a happy ending and it's not uncomplicated, but Thelma and Louise are such great characters, and I love them a lot.

We also watched a favourite of mine, which is Gods and Monsters (1998, dir. Bill Condon), starring Ian McKellen and Brendan Fraser. If you love sexy manipulative old gay men fucking with the heads of younger mostly straight men who don't know how to deal with being the object of a man's desire, who are terrified of queerness on so many levels, but are also drawn to the novel and new? Yeah, baby. This is the flick for you.

Goetia (2016) - This is a point-and-click videogame that I played on PS4, although I also have it on PC, and I just finished it today. If you're interested in demonology and you love a 20th century haunted house, this is a short game with some great character writing and a really engaging mystery - a lot of it is pretty fucking creepy, and while the ending didn't entirely land for me, I enjoyed the game enough that I do want to recommend it. This is fucking difficult as a puzzle game, though, so definitely keep a notepad and pen handy.

We also caught the Super Mario Bros. (2023, dir. Michael Jelenic and Aaron Horvath) movie, and it was grand - it was honestly very well-paced, funny, and they did a lot of creative stuff with the source material, plus I'm obviously disgustingly horny for Bowser at all times, so it was good food for my libido.

With that said, it was a bit too aggressive with the heterosexuality, and the racial politics of the whole thing are... Fucking bad. Like, there's a lot to unpack there that I'd need a whole essay to pick apart, and as a white dude I really don't know that it's my place - there's always been some racism in the franchise, like the British studio's addition of a lot of anti-Black coding in making Donkey Kong 64, but just the whole vibe of the Mushroom Kingdom's worship of Princess Peach is like... Weird.

And lastly, I watched and loved The Wicker Man (1973, dir. Robin Hardy), and I have an extensive review below.

New Works Published

June's Top Short Story: Agony and Ecstasy

June's most popular short story of mine was Agony and Ecstasy!

Erotic short. An abbot takes a stranded sailor on for… personal duties.

6k, M/M, rated E! Age difference, virginity kink, some naivety, some oral and anal, first time enthusiasm.

On Medium / / On Patreon

TweetFic: Notes of Lavender

A secretary bonding and connecting with the only male secretary at work. 1960s. Featuring lavender marriages and LESBIANS.

On Twitter

New Podcast: A Stranger's Visit: The Story, Episode 4

Fantasy short. A priest of Freyr receives a strange visitation.

3.6k, rated T. MB. Originally published May 29th, 2021. A little bit of Norse godliness versus Norse priestliness. Featuring Esben. Adapted from a TweetFic.

RSS Feed / / On Spotify / / On Google Podcasts / / On YouTube

New Podcast: Temple Service: The Story, Episode 5

Romance short. A servant at the temple to Hephaestus lusts after an olive-tender.

Rated M, 2.2k, cis M/M, some ancient Greeks! Originally publiushed June 3rd, 2022. A temple servant and a grove-worker, lots of teasing and banter and flirting.

RSS Feed / / On Spotify / / On Google Podcasts / / On YouTube

Romance Short: Sickbed Trade

One sailor tends to another in his sickbed.

Just a little M/M piece with some love and intimacy. 500w.

On Medium / / On Patreon

Film Review: The Wicker Man (1973, dir. Robin Hardy)’s Spit in the Face of Cops and Colonialism

Exploring The Wicker Man’s themes of authority and control on its 50th anniversary.

On Medium / / On Patreon / / On Tumblr

Erotic Short: Intensive Care

A paediatric nurse takes some time after work with the Head of Psychiatry.

3.4k, cis M/M. Some fucky power play between coworkers, both of them very aware of each other’s character flaws, featuring age difference, size difference, riding, oral, anal, lots of physical intimacy and affection, with a hint of overstim at the end.

CW for mentions of past trauma, implied rape and sexual abuse, and incest. None of these things are explicit or present-day, and they’re discussed in the context of unpacking a trigger and some invasive thoughts.

On Medium / / On Patreon

Essay: The Relief of a Queer Audience as a Fruity Stand-Up Comic

Explaining one's existence takes time.

I’m a stand-up comedian.

Last week, I did some comedy at a queer-run, queer-centred open mic — suddenly, a twelve-minute set fit into six, because I was in a room full of queer people who knew exactly what I was talking about...

On Medium / / On Patreon

Erotic Short: Public Performance

A vampire shows off his toy for a club.

1k, cis M/trans M. A vampire fucks his trans boyfriend in a crowded nightclub as people dance below them.

Featuring some chem sex with the drugging effects of a vampire belt, public sex, fingering and vaginal sex, overstimulation, and implications of a fevered gangbang in the aftermath.

On Medium / / On Patreon

#musings #original fiction

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 2 years

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Killjoys Never Die 8/15 - Venom

Chapter Summary: Party remembers a BLI outpost and a dangerous plan is made. (eventual) Pairing: Fun Ghoul x fem!Reader Chapter Word Count: 2 108 Series Warnings: mentions of drugs; poor mental health; suicidal tendencies; insecurities; throwing up; jealousy; slavery (?); experiments on living humans; mentions of eating disorder; graphic descriptions of: violence, injuries, torture, death

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist

Recap: Fun and Jet found Party and brought him back to the Diner. But since then Fun refuses to talk to you and is constantly mad at Party, who slowly but surely seems to spiral into at the knowledge that BLI is keeping Kobra to torture him.

Party had been back with you for almost three weeks, when one morning you left your room, again without having slept next to Fun, and found Party sitting at a table, mulling over a map.

“Morning,” you greeted carefully, fully expecting Party to immediately launch into one of his rants which you had gotten all too familiar with over the past two weeks, since Jet had had that nightmare.

Instead Party lifted his head, and waved you over.

“Look at that,” he asked, pointing to the map of the reconstructed routes. “Notice something?”

He had pointed to an area outside Battery City, Zone 2. It was pretty close to the city already, the DRAC presence there a lot higher than out here in Zone 6. You scanned over the familiar map, tracing along the edges that marked hills and lines that were roads.

“Focus on the routes you drew,” Party encouraged.

It took you a few seconds, and blinking at the map a few times, but then you knew what he was pointing out. Almost all of the routes crossed in one point, or rather a very close area.

“What are you thinking,” you asked, sitting down in the booth opposite him.

“I remembered something,” he explained. “There is a BLI outpost here. They have a small petrol station, and tons of documents. I don’t know why they keep it out there, but there is data, about the city, about the Zones, about DRACs and Zombies and lots of other stuff.”

“Information about the city,” you asked, making Party nod.

“Canal and sewer systems, entries into the city, blueprints of buildings even.”

“Why would they keep it out there?”

Party had already said he did not know, but the question raised a red flag. It seemed too simple. It might be a trap.

“I don’t know. Maybe they’re scared this stuff’ll get stolen if they keep it within the city walls. And don’t think the Killjoys will advance as far as Zone 2?”

You bit your cheek. “You think they have information that might help us break out Kobra?”

Party nodded.

“And you want to steal it.”

Again he nodded.

Thinking hard, you pulled the map closer to take a look. It was risky, not only because of the proximity to Battery City, but also because of the density of patrols. This close to the city there were not only DRACs, but also SCARECROWS, and those were even less fun to be around.

Then again, the knowledge that Kobra was still in Battery City, probably getting tortured as you were calmly studying this map… it killed you inside. How did it have to feel for Party? And it was the first proper plan he had come up with so far, definitely better than his suggestion to find Destroya, and let a gigantic robot break Kobra out of BLI.

So you would need to organise a mission to this outpost, steal whatever information they had that could be useful to your cause, and then, using this information you could make a detailed plan on how to get Kobra out of Battery City. One with actual routes, and not just ‘then we run down corridors, and hope to find him behind one of the doors’.

“Let’s do it.”

Your agreement sparked a light in Party’s eyes you had not seen in years, and he seemed more like himself afterwards.

Once Jet and Fun were awake you shared the news with them, and together you began making a plan how to get to the outpost. The route to get there was determined by avoiding DRAC routes and mountains. Getting to Zone 2 and back would take almost a whole day, considering you had to be careful to stay unnoticed, so it would be best to leave in the early morning.

Quickly it was agreed that it would be an unnecessary risk to go all together. Four bikes threw up more dust than two or even just one. This meant you had to decide who should go.

Party volunteered, but was shot down immediately by the rest of you. He was the one who remembered the most about BLI. If the mission to the outpost should fail, he was the one who had to do the planning by himself. Then Fun volunteered, but only under the condition to go alone. Jet and Party seemed okay with it, even though Jet offered his help, but you disagreed. Fun needed backup, you insisted, so either Jet or you would come along.

The discussion whether Fun should be accompanied by a second person poured more gas into the fire of his slumbering rage, and in the end he was shouting at you, making you the active target of his aggression for the first time since Party was back.

“I don’t need you to pretend to look after me,” he shouted, making your heart beat faster, anxiously. “I need your protection as little as you claim to need mine!”

Well, you kinda brought that one upon yourself, you had to admit.

“It’s got nothing to do with protection,” you disagreed.

By now you were standing in the middle of the Diner, facing each other, while Jet and Party sat at the side, anxiously watching your screaming match.

“No, it doesn’t! You just want to belittle me!”

“That’s-”

“It’s okay, come on! Just admit you think I’m completely useless! I know you want to! It wouldn’t be a loss if I fail on this mission, but you just feel too guilty to admit that to yourself, so you pretend like you care!”

“What the hell, Ghoul?” His words sent daggers to your heart. Pretend like you cared? What by Destroya was wrong with him? How could he believe you did not care about him?

“Oh, so I’m Ghoul now? Okay, I see how this is. Why don’t you just send me of to what we all know is more or less a suicide mission-”

“You volunteered, and I wanted to come along-”

“-so you and Party-” he stabbed his finger into the other man’s direction, making him flinch, “-can cuddle around and be lovey-dovey all day long without me getting in your way!”

In disbelief you stared at him.

“What are you even talking-”

“The decision was made, alright? I’m going, on my own. I can’t stand being in this fucking Diner a day longer. Every minute away from you is a minute I can actually breathe for once.”

Words like daggers? No, more like a mincer with acid and molotov cocktail, all in one.

“You don’t mean that,” you breathed, hoping to be able to keep the tears back for now. “You don’t really mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

“Okay, you know what?” His last words had deflated your anger, left you as lonely and weak as you had not been in years. Your legs were shaking, your hands, your voice... “Go. Go on that mission, but be careful. That’s all I’m asking, alright?”

“As if you cared,” Fun rolled his eyes.

“I do care,” you answered quietly. You were sick of shouting, sick of being mad at him for not talking to you, sick of missing the way things had been for a few blissful weeks, when you had fallen asleep curled into his side. “I do care. About you.”

For a long moment he looked at you, his chest heaving with heavy breaths from having shouted at you before.

“No. No, you don’t,” he eventually pressed out, before he turned and stormed off to his room, leaving you frozen in place.

Venom. His words were like venom, spreading slowly from your heart through your veins, freezing you from the inside out. Cold. Painful. Numbing you to any other sensation.

At some point Party and Jet seemed to have gotten up, because the next time you finally managed to look around, they were standing behind the counter of the Diner, searching for things Fun might need on his mission. He was due to leave in the early hours of the coming morning, you overheard as you sat down on a booth, dully watching your friends work. Jet packed a first aid kit, water and food, Party several folders for papers, and many little electronic devices for data transfer.

By the time they were done, the sun already sunk behind the hills. Fun had not come out of his room since he had disappeared in it, and you heard Party mentioning to Jet that he wanted to go to bed early to be ready for what the next day might bring.

Eventually, after having convinced you to eat at least a few bites of PowerPup, the other two also went to bed, leaving you alone. It was not like they had not tried convincing you to go to sleep, but you had resisted their efforts. You needed to stay awake, needed to tell Fun good bye. Somehow him leaving for this mission felt like you were sitting in a car that headed straight towards an abys.

Doom lingered over the Diner, so heavy in the air that you could almost taste it. You had lost Fun before, and then thought you had lost him a second time, when he and Jet had headed out to search for Party. And maybe you had really lost him that day. After all, he had refused to share one friendly word with you since.

But you needed to talk to him, before you maybe lost him for a third – for a final – time. What did you want to say? You were not sure. That you had loved him all these years, still did? Perhaps. That you had barely slept without him by your side? Most likely. That you missed him, his warmth, his jokes, the soft look in his eyes, the infinite safety you found in his arms? Absolutely.

You mulled the thoughts over in your head, again and again, until you were dizzy, until the Diner with its few orange lights was nothing but twisting shapes and dots of light before your tired eyes.

And eventually your head sunk to the top of the table.

You did not wake up when the door to Fun’s room opened, and he slipped out, or when he grabbed the bag Party and Jet had prepared for him, or when he walked up to you, watching you sleep. For almost five minutes he stood beside you.

You had tried waiting up for him. Why? Had you wanted to talk to him? He doubted you had done it in order to continue screaming at him. But now you were asleep. A part of him wanted to wake you up, wanted to wrap you in his arms, and apologize for all the weeks in which he had treated you worse than he ever could have imagined himself treating someone, but if he woke you up now, he knew he would never find the strength to leave.

So he just reached his hand out, intending to brush his fingers over your hair, but then he stopped himself. Not out of fear of waking you. No, he denied himself the sensation of feeling you. He would explain everything when he came back. He would explain why he had insisted on leaving you behind when they had headed out to look for Party, and how jealous he had gotten when he had seen you clinging to his best friend that same evening. He had always known your heart secretly belonged to Party, but there had been this irrational hope that the weeks you had spent together, sleeping side by side to keep each other’s nightmares at bay, confessing to weaknesses and fears, had brought you closer together.

But maybe he should have said something, about how he really felt for you. Maybe it would have made a difference.

Or maybe you would have cast him aside for Party either way, the way you had done now. Maybe nothing would ever have made a difference.

He pulled his hand back, without having brushed over your hair, and quietly left the Diner. You did not wake up when the door closed behind him, nor did you wake up when he pushed his bike out of the shed, and all the way up the hill before starting the motor. You did not even wake up when the sun rose, or when Party came out of his room, stretching and yawning.

You only woke up when the sun was high in the sky, Fun already several Zones away from you, and the feeling of dread in your stomach had turned heavy as lead.

Next Chapter - Face All the Pain

Taglist:

@alexstyx @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty @butterflycore @omgsuperstarg @fivelegance @deadlovers @casmustdiee @moisheee @layla2-49 @thewordworrier @prty-poisxn @cmtryghoul @ren-ni @heartsfromdoll

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krenenbaker · 1 year

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Stop the World - 1: Take a Picture

Pairing: Malleus/Cater

Warnings/Features: Angst (eventually with a happy ending)

Summary: Cater and Malleus have found a comfortable rhythm to their lives in their last year at Night Raven College. But as the threat of change creeps closer, their fears about the future do too.

Cater: Thinking through the past

Notes: This is my first time posting something like this on Tumblr, so I have no idea if the formatting here makes sense. If you wish, you can instead read this on AO3 (where the second part is already posted as well). Also, the title(s) are derived from "Stop the World" from the musical Come From Away - a great song, and similar in energy to this little story.

Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3 Version (ft. all chapters)

Cater wasn't sure when things had changed. When his fear had become affection. When his smiles had softened and become genuine, not plastered on. When he stopped wanting to photograph all of their time together, and began to leave his phone in his pocket when they met.

When "Diamond" became "Cater". And when "Cater" became "my Treasure".

When he and Mal fell in love.

Cater had planned for his relationships to be like his friendships - casual. A bit superficial, maybe, but fun. Nice and easy, just how Cay-Cay liked!

He didn't plan to get attached.

But he had fallen, and fallen hard. What had started as a little casual teasing and flirting had somehow spiralled into something much deeper.

And Cater was absolutely terrified.

They were rapidly progressing through their third year - the last one at NRC before their internships that could send them anywhere. He'd probably end up somewhere in the Shaftlands, or maybe the Sunshine Lands. Mal would probably go back home to Briar Valley. Anyway, he was sure their time together was short, and then it would just be... over. The thought made his blood feel cold in his body and his limbs grow tense.

And it made Cater feel like he was back at one of his childhood houses. His family would be gathered in the living room as his father told him and his sisters, "Kids, I've been relocated again. We'll be moving in a few weeks. But don't worry, you'll like it there, I promise." Always the same speech. His heart would drop into his stomach at first, but then he'd box up his things, he'd say goodbye to his "friends" of the past few months or years, and he'd move on to somewhere - and someone - new. And after a while, that initial feeling stopped.

He made sure of it.

"Don't get too close. That'll only make it harder when you leave"

It became his mantra. His own personal rule.

Cater wasn't sure when things had changed. But as he and Mal sat in the courtyard as the sun set, Malleus's warm hand moving to gently grasp his, Cater kept circling back to one question in his mind: when did he choose to break his one rule?

#twst #Cater Diamond #Malleus Draconia #MalleKei #malleus x cater #twisted wonderland #krenenbaker's :)#I have no idea how to format this... but I tried

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lacependragon · 1 year

Text

Under the Cut: approximately 1,200 words of the opening to a modified version of the RWBY AU I posted about earlier this week: a fantasy (with magic) slice of life story about Ruby as an alchemist and shop owner, Yang as a ranger (protector of the city), and a several hundred years after the apocalypse and trying to rebuild world.

Or, My Time at Portia meets Management of a Novice Alchemist (w/ Vox Machina, Flying Witch, and a few others around for good measure) but make it RWBY.

Feedback welcome.

Zwei huffs a snort through his muzzle as he pulls up short on the path. Ruby looks over her horse’s long neck to peer down the path. There, past the spiralling dirt path, near the gleaming blue waters and behind the stone and wooden walls is Patch, the town that will soon be her home.

Yang sits astride her mare, Celica, on Ruby’s right. Both horses are laden down with bags and boxes and all sorts of supplies. They brought everything they could with them, leaving the rest with their parents on the wagon, a few days behind.

“What do you think?” asks Yang. “Is it everything you wanted?” She leans forward on Celica, her eyes on Ruby.

Ruby stares at the town. It’s so much smaller than Vale, the city they’ve spent most of their lives in. It seems quieter, slower, and Ruby can’t help but take a moment to revel in it. From this height, she can peer behind the walls and catch sight of the world they protect. The brightly painted houses that rise and fall with the hills. The rooftop gardens and balcony patios. Spiralling staircases of stone connect the higher and lower parts of the town.

And people, perhaps a dozen or so in sight, bustle as well. They move from one building to another, talk to each other in the streets, and a child is even dancing. Or Ruby presumes they’re a child. It’s hard to tell from this distance.

“Looks amazing,” says Ruby, honestly. “What about you? Kind of important you like it. It is your posting.”

Neither one of them expected for Yang to get a posting so soon out of Ranger training. She’d only gotten her license a week ago before she received a high priority posting, a permanent posting, in Patch, a little town to the northwest of Vale. Apparently, they were having a rough time and needed assistance.

The sort of assistance they figured they’d need forever. Must have cracked open a dungeon, or maybe a tomb. Those sorts of things could be decades long problems.

“It looks boring,” says Yang. She pulls on the reins to Celica and guides her in front of Ruby and Zwei. “Come on, let’s go see where the fun around here is.”

Ruby rolls her eyes and follows as Yang and Celica take off down the hill at a fast trot toward the city. Zwei chuffs at the idea of going faster with so many bags and bobbles attached to him. Ruby doesn’t blame him. He’s already being incredibly patient for an animal that’s supposed to be a dog and not a horse. Especially not a pack horse.

“Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll get there when we get there,” says Ruby, patting Zwei’s neck. He trots forward with his dog-like gait, bouncing Ruby a bit in her saddle. She’s glad she packed her glassware so well, or else it all would be shattered by now.

From the open gate of the town rides a person on a sleek, dappled grey horse. It’s a smaller breed than Celica, and sits a bit smaller than Zwei, too, but it looks sturdy and it eats up the space between the two groups with powerful, lengthy strides.

“Ahoy!” calls the woman astride the horse. She has dark brown skin and a mohawk dyed multiple colours, with bright eyes that gleam in the morning sun. “Name’s Harriet. What can I do for you folk?”

“I’m Yang, this is my sister Ruby. I’m here about the Ranger posting,” says Yang.

Harriet grins and gives Yang an appraising look. “You’re the new Ranger?” Yang nods. “Oh hell yes, you look way more capable than the last guy they sent.”

Yang and Ruby exchange a nervous look. Is it that dangerous out here?

“What happened to the last guy?” asks Ruby, voice wobbling slightly.

Harriet scoffs. “Nothing. Marrow’s just fucking annoying. Like the kid brother I never wanted.”

Yang gives Ruby a long, amused look. “Tell me about it.”

“Hey!” protests Ruby.

Harriet chuckles. “C’mon, I’ll show you around. Help you get settled.” She turns her horse around and throws an arm forward, toward Patch. “You’re gonna love it here. We’ve got more dungeons, tombs, and sealed up bullshit than half the fucking province put together. This place is awesome.”

That’d explain why they need so many rangers.

Yang grins. “Hell yeah!” She punches a fist into the air.

Ruby rolls her eyes. Fighting is cool, sure, but Ruby’s curious about the forage, and the local animal populations, the gardening possibilities, and, most of all, her new shop.

Town alchemist. It has a nice ring to it.

As their mounts guided them down the path, toward the town, Harriet spoke over her shoulder.

“Patch is one of the older towns in Anima, but we’ve never managed to expand all that far because we got founded on the edge of the Wilds. We’ve been pushing lately, because we need the farmland, and that’s how we cracked open the system that we called in Marrow for.” Harriet rolls her head with her eyes and grins at them. “But he’s not much of a spelunker and we need someone who doesn’t mind the caves.”

What sort of ranger didn’t like caves?

“Hope you aren’t scared of tight spaces,” says Harriet.

“No way,” scoffs Yang. “I’m fearless.”

Ruby rolls her eyes. Fearless. Sure. And she’s seven feet tall and buff. But Yang’s fears aren’t the sort you find in a cave or a dungeon.

They reach the bottom of the hill and follow the wide dirt and gravel path toward the front gate. It transitions into tightly interlocking stones that stretch beyond her eye within the town, proper. The stones look like the massive ones sprawled across the wild expanse of land that stretches between Vale and Patch. The off-white, sometimes pale grey stone gleams in the light and makes everything brighter.

“How many people live here?” asks Ruby.

“Couple hundred, or thereabouts,” says Harriet, over her shoulder. “Once you learn the place, you get to know everyone in it, too. It’s not hard to keep track.” She shrugs. “There’s more out in the farmland, especially back the way you came, but those are the ones who live in town. We wanna expand, but…” She trails off.

The dungeons. For all they’re ‘cool’, especially to people like Yang and Harriet and other rangers, they’re not exactly a perk for ordinary people. Mostly, to regular people, they’re just scary, dangerous, and a reason to stay the hell away from some place.

She’d seen the farms on the way here. Big, sweeping things maintained by worn machines and worn people. They seemed happy, at a distance, but Ruby wondered. She’d worked on farms during her time at alchemist college. Not for long, but long enough to know it was hard, long work that the whole world relied on. Work that deserved better recognition. Maybe she could help, with her shop.

More land. More safety. More people. More supplies. The constant cycle of survival and growth and expansion in this strange and ancient world.

“Your shop is gonna be off River Road,” says Harriet. She passes under the open arch of the gate and Ruby lets out a quiet gasp at how different this place is compared to Vale.

#lace writes #lace speaks #rwby #management of your time at patch #snippets

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splishsplashyouropinionistrash · 1 year

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hi guys i’m a little drunk and a little sad so pls ignore my rambling, here’s a writing update

yall i’m sorry i haven’t posted any fanfic-y things lately and i’m sorry TMHYHM hasn’t updated in a while (literally 6 months) i swear i have things written

TMHYHM 8 is almost all the way written i promise, i’m struggling so much with the last little bit of the chapter

the “minyard triplets” AU is also almost finished, i have literally a scene and a half left but the WORDS don’t want to WORD RIGHT and i regret learning how to write

i’m being dramatic both of those projects are going to be great once they’re finished, i’m so obsessed with them and i know y’all will be too, but oh my god. writing is??? so hard???

in other writing news, i have eleven (11) other WIPs that have taken a backseat for the moment but i feel you should still be aware of. in no particular order:

a neil dies (but fr this time) AU because i can’t control myself

soulmate AU (obsessed with this one)

kevin in the nest (pre/canon timeline)

tangled AU (so fun. neil is flynn, i’ll let y’all figure out the rest)

break up/make up fic (because i love to cause us all pain)

a 5 + 1 (five times neil can tell the twinyards apart and one time he can’t)

fantasy AU (in the universe of the fantasy book i’m actually writing)

perfect court AU (it came to me in a dream, literally)

high school AU (cause i love those SO. MUCH.)

a guardian angel (sort of) fic

an alternate universe collection fic (bunch of oneshots that could become longer stories if people like them)

the last five are all multi-part fics so those aren’t coming any time soon, but i’m excited about them anyway.

okay the writing news is over so you can tune out now if that’s all you’re here for, but i have more to say.

guys, writing is fucking hard. i’m not joking. i love writing with all my heart, and i love writing for this fandom, but ya boi is STRUGGLING

i’m not exactly… well? right now? my mental health has been on a serious downward spiral, and the words have just not been coming to me easily these past few weeks.

to blame for this, please see:

my (now ex) best friend for ditching me after six years

my OCD behaviors keeping me up all night

my mother

my chronic stomach pain

and much more!

listen, guys. i’m really sorry. i wanted to have something out for y’all last week, but it just didn’t happen. i wish i could tell you when i’ll be posting my work again, but i don’t know. i’m trying really hard to get shit done, but it’s not always that easy.

thank you all so much for your patience and kindness, i truly don’t deserve you guys. i feel genuinely so awful.

like i said, a little drunk and a little sad. thanks for reading anyway <3

#aftg #tfc #all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg fanfic #aftg fic #splishsplash writes

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archduke-enver-gortash · 1 year

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how about 5, 6, 33, and 34 for Regongar and Ven on the useful/fun otp questions?

5. How do they consciously realize that they like the other character? Does it take them a while?

oh yeah it takes a while for ven to realize that she loves him. like, they're basically joined at the hip, always together, fucking every day and everywhere (and if they can't they'll whine about it lmao) and she's STILL like "regongar? nah i don't love him what are you talking about?? he's just fun to be around!" while actively trying to break up with him multiple times but not being able to do it for some wild reason, telling him bits and pieces of her past, being comforted by his sheer presence (like in my fic stranger in the mirror or thunder, though in that last one she's too afraid to admit needing him so she just sits for hours in a thunderstorm instead because it reminded her of him. oh and she's comfortable and relaxed enough to really moan while getting railed n shit. a first for her lmao) and missing him when he's not around!! ven never missed a single person in her life before him!!

i think she conciously realizes it because of something totally mundane though. they're just doing chilling in a tavern or something, his arm around her, drinking and eating together while joking around, ven is super happy, and then boom. she notices that she doesn't need to do something crazy with him to have fun. "this is enough. i love him. oh gods, i am in stupid fucking love." she then runs away immediately and spends the next week spiraling in her room lmao

i've said this multiple times but i think reg, while it only happens twice in his life, falls in love at first sight. he just knows that she's supposed to be his after the first few minutes. thanks calistria for her.

6. How do they react to the realization that they like the other character? Is it an “oh my god I’m never going to think about this again” thing, or are they pretty comfortable with it?

like i've mentioned above, ven took it pretty uhm. hard. she was so terribly afraid, because she's just scared of feeling. feeling something this strongly. and she knows that he loves her back, he tells her every day, so she can't even just ignore her emotions. she literally locks herself away in her quarters and goes completely mental. stops eating for five days. gets a new wrinkle and a bit of hair falls out out of stress lmao.

reg is pretty comfortable, he literally tells her that he loves her after their first night together after all. i also think that he'd just be really happy. like i've said in my previous answered ask, reg's only reason for fighting and living is love.

33. Under what circumstances would they feel jealous?

neither of them are the type to get jealous lmao.

34. Under what circumstances would they feel protective?

hoo boy. regongar is ALWAYS alert. insanely overprotective, clingy and never wants ven to spend time without him ever. this gets worse the longer they are together. insanely quick to resort to violence if he thinks ven or their relationship are in danger or just if he feels like it'd make their life easier, without any remorse. he even says in the game that he happily does things like this. literally just looking at her wrong will get your throat ripped out by the warden of the kingdom. ven is a total enabler and always thanks him profusely for his atrocities too lmao.

#thanks for the ask!#regongar x ven #oc: ven #turbulentpumpkin43 #sorry i feel like my answers are not that good today. i hope you still liked them <3

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fanficsandfluff · 2 years

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Tickletober 2022 - Day 8: Death Spot

A/N: Thank you for requesting this fic, @hotshot624! I don't know how well I characterized the guys, but I tried! And I know it's late, I'm gonna be uploading a few more fics I think a couple days late, I just got too busy. Hope this fic is good! <3

Fandom: Jackass (Film & TV)

Characters: Johnny Knoxville, Bam Margera

Bam's always been ticklish. Since he was a kid, it was just a known thing to everyone around him that 'hey! bam is ticklish! let's get him!' and that's just how it was.

Even into the sets of Jackass, pestering Bam with pokes, jabs, flutters among the other tortures the guys administered to each other as pranks, it all just became normal practice. And it was hilarious because no matter how often they did it, Bam would always jump or scream or run away from his attacker. He always had a reaction, thereby making the bit funny.

But Johnny Knoxville had been on a mission for these past few weeks on set. He'd been trying to come up with a bit where Bam was absolutely wrecked with tickles, but no one thought it was funny enough or worth filming. So back to the drawing board it was.

And then the idea just spiraled into Johnny wanting to wreck Bam's shit, regardless of cameras or plans. Bam had been especially dickish with his pranks on set recently anyway, so this was all well-justified.

During the lunch break, some people left the set to eat out, most everyone stayed in the outdoor cafeteria to eat, and some ate in their cars or another safe place in fear of typical Jackass shenanigans. So Knoxville waited until after lunch, when everyone would be called back and they'd usually have a good period of down time while crew set up the next shoot. Knoxville watched as Bam pulled back into the parking lot and got out of his car, immediately walking into the air conditioned offices.

Knoxville stalked Bam and followed him inside, making sure he didn't notice him. He watched Bam go into the men's room and that's when Knoxville knew he would strike. He positioned himself just outside the bathroom door and waited for Bam to come back out. He shushed anyone who walked by and tried talking to him to keep up the sneaky attack. And boom, when Bam emerged and started walking the other way, Knoxville jumped out and tackled him to the ground, the two men rolling around on the carpeted floor for a few seconds.

"What the fuck!" Bam cursed immediately, trying to fight off Knoxville. But the guy had the element of surprise on his side and Bam wasn't prepared to be fighting this hard. Knoxville maneuvered himself so he was straddling Bam and had both his hands pinned under his knees on either side of him.

"Bam, I've been trying to put this together for far too long," Johnny sighed, "It's about time I've caught ya."

And then that signature Knoxville grin spread across Johnny's face and he wiggled his hands in the air up by his head, "Coochie coo, Bam!" and he dove his hands down, scribbling all over Bam's belly and sides.

Bam screamed and he kicked his legs violently, "AHA fuhuhuck you! Fuck you fuck-- stohohop!" he was trying to not laugh to maybe not give Knoxville some of the satisfaction he was getting from this. But it was damn hard, man! Especially when you were as sensitive as Bam was.

Some crew had come by at all the noise to watch the scene, all wearing smiles.

"You see, I wanted to make this a bit," Knoxville was talking as if he wasn't currently tickling the shit out of Bam, "But no one let me. Isn't this fun?" he asked Bam and then looked at the crew around him, "Isn't this fun?" he repeated with more energy and got a few cheers and claps.

Johnny's fingers worked their way up to Bam's ribs and stayed there for a while as that seemed to get deeper laughs to come out of Bam's mouth.

"And the point of the bit was that we'd be finding your Death Spot," Knoxville continued, "Which I don't think any one of us knows. You wanna tell me now and just get it over with?" he smirked.

"NAHAHO! Fuhuck YOU!" Bam slammed his heels against the carpet, "Thahahat's never gonna fucking happen, you prick!"

"I expected that," Johnny let himself giggle gleefully, "Welp, then I guess I'm just gonna have to figure it out on my own!"

Johnny slid his fingers up Bam's ribs and tried to get into his armpits, but Bam was making it hard. Even with his pinned wrists, his arms weren't like pulled way out to the side or anything, so Bam was still able to squeeze his upper arms to his sides.

"Let me in there, Bam, c'mon," Johnny voiced, "Come onn, you little shitbird," he laughed and Bam groaned, "What do I gotta say? Open sesame! Please! Tickle tickle tickle tickle!"

The last few teases got Bam to blush and Johnny fluttered his fingers by Bam's neck and ears, which got the young man giggling and tossing and turning his head. It got him to scrunch his shoulders up to fend off Johnny's fingers, which was part of the plan.

"Bingo!" Johnny dove his hands in with some extra force and Bam was cackling once more, "Is this your death spot? That's why you wouldn't let me in?" he asked and didn't really expect an answer. But the longer Knoxville tickled under Bam's arms, the more he was realizing that no, this couldn't be his worst spot. He felt like he could get Bam laughing louder, harder, and longer.

"Alright, back down we go," Johnny wrenched his hands free and wiggled them back down Bam's torso.

Bam was in hell during this ordeal. No one was helping him because everyone was a dick. And here was Knoxville having the time of his life, airing out all his secrets and sensitive spots for the whole set to know. And damn, the guy knew how to tickle. Bam kept trying to get his arms free but he wasn't able to, and Johnny was using the exact perfect tickling speed and pressure to get him laughing anywhere he touched him. And now Johnny was back by his belly and even snuck his hands up under his shirt to tickle him. God, he sucked. Bam snorted at the lighter belly tickles on his bare skin and Knoxville burst out laughing at hearing that.

"Youhuhu snorted! I didn't know you could snort, Bam!" Knoxville was giddy.

And then he moved his hands even further down, sliding around to Bam's boney hips that were showing clearly above his low-rise jeans and hiked down boxers. Bam took a sharp intake of breath and he shook his head, "No! Knoxville, stop, I mean it! Stop it right now. I swear, Knoxville, I swear to god!" Bam was gritting his teeth and pulling to free his arms even harder.

A grin spread across Johnny Knoxville's face like the Grinch. Christmas had indeed come early.

"What's that? Stop before I get to... here?" he poked his two pointer fingers into both Bam's hips at the same time. He felt Bam's entire lower body jerk roughly to one side at just the poke.

Knoxville let out an evil and excited, "Ohohoho..." before he cracked his knuckles and situated his hands so they gripped both of Bam's hips, his thumbs poised and ready for the attack. Aaannnddd...

Yeah, let's just say Knoxville ended up with a bloody nose and a whole target for revenge slapped onto his back. Hips. Definitely Bam's Death Spot. And wouldn't you know it, someone had a camera out and recorded the whole thing.

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benefits1986 · 5 months

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Esteriffic

January 10 is never gonna be the same again.

I've staged a good number of birthday celebrations for my inang Ester over the years, especially when this black sheep returned to her sleepy town. Actually, I don't like surprises and birthdays, but our big family looks forward to it. It's not about being grand. It's about making ina feel appreciated since we're not big on affirmation, let alone, touchy-feel vibes.

I remember how we'd have legit fun in the small kubo with potluck ulam and panghimagas. I remember how I let her indulge in kanin, sisig, kare-kare, crispy pata and the works when she was 80+. I remember how we almost lost her to fever turned pneumonia, but she managed to wear her gown and walk in a room filled with over a hundred people during her 85th. I can never forget those.

And today is her birthday, her 89th, supposedly. I have very few photos and videos with her because I don't want to compete for attention since we're an extended family of 80+ and counting. Today, I am allowing myself to feel every bit of emotion in motion, while trying my best to let it be and let it go. I am trying my best not to shut down the sharp stabs, the tummy ache, the spinning head sensation, and the works. It's not about being emotional, but learning how to manage emotions slanted on grieving in a decent, in a humane way. 'Di ako makina. 'Di ako autopilot. As I am keying in the past two statements, naluluha na naman ako. HUY. Ang aga. PAUSE. Teka. Bwelo lang ako. HUY.

The same time this year, I joked about how I was having a tough time just because I can't deliver as much as my usual at work. I resorted to hard jokes laced with so much sarcasm and suppression that I built and rolled out. Looking back, it was such a huge and crazy mess. I tried downplaying this vulnerable side of me because I didn't want to be seen, felt, and heard. That's me fighting and fighting and fighting even when I'm spiraling. I could no longer take that back, nor would I like to take that back.

I guess that back then, I just needed a really hard suppression because it's too overwhelming and that I'm managing yet another terminally ill mother even when I'm a very bad girl. I guess it's pivotal because that was when I realized that this really bad girl still has a soft and hypersensitive spot for the family I thought I'd never go back to. I guess this is my grandest apology, the rawest and realest one, not because of utang na loob which I don't believe in, ever; but paying it forward and doing it because I have the experience and folio to back it up. I guess it's just me trying to make better and tougher choices for the greater good, but, what I failed to do is to provide context and be more intentional about how I pan things out. Ansakit isulat nito, but, I have to. I want to and I need to.

As my fourth anak-anakan told me: Ate, magpaalaga ka naman. Magpasabi ka naman.

This Caterie is inching and slugging on January Week 1 and 2. Hindi siya madali at all pero I hope that I'd be able to emerge na mas mabuting tao kahit onti lang. Kahit 1% improvement lang na consistent. May I focus this grief into something worthwhile for me and my audience of one. May I channel this emotional deluge in a calm and real surrender. Again, I'm not a machine. I'm not automated. I'm very human; very flawed. As the cursor blinks at me this kinda early morning, may I be reminded that blinks are glimmers. Sabi nga, when you're overwhelmed, blink and breathe more intentionally. It's super subtle since I don't blink a lot except when I get eye twitches from time to time.

Ganun na lang muna for today. OK.

Thank you, ina for always cooking for me, washing the dishes I don't want to wash (LOL) and for reminding me that: Simple lang ang buhay, apo. Simple lang ang buhay. Thank you for allowing me to help you pass on in the most decent way that I can with the full support of 50+1 family members. I wasn't easy as I know there's so much drama that are cutting and too deep I had to manage and neutralize. Thank you for holding on and letting go. Thank you for allowing me to face my mom issues even when I was but doing it kasi wala namang gagawang iba and that I've just been curious kung anong gagawin ng nanay ko sa situation na 'yun if she was still alive. Bobo ko rin talaga as a perpetually curious critter, noh? LOL. Seriously though, thank you for your silent and consistent faith, hope and love. May I carry your life lessons with me, unti-unti.

Enjoy your heavenly birthday! :)

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walkingstackofbooks · 1 year

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Just shouting into the void ~

So my job application writing is going great /s ...

Lol I can't even focus on writing down these thoughts I'm already thinking on here what hope do I even have of writing a coherent personal statement?

Gah

I'm on #6 since April and they've got progressively harder. Like, I guess that makes sense in terms of motivation and whatnot, and also I am pretty burnt out after spending half-term with family instead of resting (it was nice but god, I should not have gone back into work straight away after) but also I'd started on meds for #1 and they worked GREAT but now it seems that initial burst has worn off and even after increasing they're not as good?

#1 - 12 weeks ago - Solidly worked on it for 2 days and did not procrastinate overly much - barely at all on day 1! It was wild! Magic!

#2 - 7 weeks ago - My expectations were high - and not quite met. More work than expected, there was less that I could copy-and-paste from the last than I thought there'd be. Got really tired in the afternoon and napped, had a sudden revival about 10 at night 😅

#3 - 4 weeks ago - Lots of productivity just... housework-wise. It was great for getting stuff I needed done though! Did bits and starts, didn't really get a good go at anything till Sun eve and even that was hard.

#4 and #5 - 3 weeks ago - Really productive evening at a friend's who offered to body double. Was fairly good the next day after a nap, too; bit of procrastination that weekend, but generally okay.

#6 - now - Did a fairly solid bit for a few hours yesterday, but then solidly procrastinated and lost belief I could do it. Have solidly procrastinated this morning, including some housework productivity, haven't been able to bring myself to even open the word doc.

I just haven't felt like this at all during this round of applications I don't think - back to what I felt during essay-writing and all that other shit that uses this sort of brain power. Most of the others was working to a tighter deadline, but not all of them were next-day affairs, and I was able to hold myself to my own deadline for once - I didn't pull any all-nighters, which is out-of-the-norm for me. This one isn't due until the end of next week (and gosh there's actually a #7 also due in next week which I've just put to one side bc I cannot) but I've got something on next weekend that I want to go to and haven't been able to go to in years but I'm just so aware I could miss it and wouldn't that be easier, Andi?, then you wouldn't have to do this damn application now!

Dammit I just hate my brain and the way it just slides over the paper when trying to get a grip on what I've done so far and doesn't take anything in and just can't be assed with the consequences of not doing it now, even as I get more and more anxious, and the whole spiral that is doing-things-now-but-not-enjoying-them knowing that if I just do the damn thing I can enjoy future things more!

(I think this all comes in the context of I cannot enjoy anything until I get a job bc my life is currently on hold and I just have to go through endless application processes but there's only this short window in May-June for most jobs and fricking hell I don't even WANT any of these jobs I'm just legally required to get it so I can resume my current, enjoyable job in two years time... Which is fun.)

Anywayyy

This is just more procrastination.

(I'm also not sure if I'm procrastinating going to the shops or putting it off in the hope I'll do some work but it's a Sunday so they'll close in two hours which is a good thing tbf otherwise I might procrastinate it longer than tea but also AGH I don't have TIME to go to the shops but I can't afford NOT to and I seemingly have time to procrastinate so just go out to the shops already you damned fool.)

#personal #just venting #can my brain just not please #WSB

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lazysimp · 3 years

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may we get some more moments of bull bakugo and cow y/n plz? 🤲

A/N: Sure anon, I hate to say it but I like this AU more than should. These are the features I imagined Bakugou/reader has.

Warnings/tags: cow girl, animal hybrid fic, oral sex, vaginal sex, Fem reader, 18+ MDNI

wc: 1.3k

How Bull Bakugou reacts to you being taken away

In the weeks following Bakugou first claiming the two of you had never been separated longer than a few minutes. He was obsessed, always keeping you within arms reach until today.

After a long night of fun, the two of you curled up under his favorite tree enjoying the breeze on a hot day. This is how most of your days were spent. In the distance, you could hear the sound of the metal machines coming closer but you had nothing to worry about, the humans only ever dropped off food or new friends. But today their plan seemed to change.

The black metal machine stopped a little distance away and two humans stepped out, one was holding some strange stick and the other a large cloth bag.

You looked down to your sleeping boyfriend and wondered if you should wake him, maybe he would know what to do, but before you could try to do anything a sharp prick jabbed into your thigh.

You look down to see a small shiny tube sticking out of your thigh with a bright feather on its top. Before you could warn Bakugou, one of the tubes stuck his thigh, shocking him awake, but it was too late. Whatever they did to you already had you falling into darkness, listening to the bellow of rage as Bakugou realized too late what was happening.

Your groggy eyes opened a few hours later, you take a quick survey of your surroundings and realize they must have taken you back to the main barn. Being a hybrid you don’t get many interactions with humans, both species usually choosing to leave the other in peace.

The door to your pin opened and a farmer with green hair opened the door, you smile with relief. He had been one of the humans you used to see when you lived in the barn.

“Sorry to disturb your rest little one,” he mumbled, opening up a small case. “You are due for a couple of shots and a quick checkup just to make sure you are healthy.”

You nod, relieved. Checkups, when you lived near the main barn, were common. You hoped they told Bakugou what was going on.

The kind farmer’s hands expertly delivered your shots and took a few vitals before leading you back to the metal machine. You waved bye as the farmhand drove back to the pasture, back to Bakugou.

But the scene you return to was nothing you were expecting. The fence surrounding the grass field was all but in ruins. The strong wood posts having been ripped from the ground. The metal feeding pin that held hay was lying in pieces around the field. You look around trying to see if a storm had come through only to see the cause of all the damage.

Bakugou was rushing towards the truck, fury etched on his face as he prepared to ram it. The farmhand quickly opened the door keeping you inside and gently pushes you out before rushing away.

You don’t even have time to look up before he is on top of you, rubbing his hands over your skin. You try to get out a few words, to reassure him you were fine, but he was not listening. His frantic eyes inspected every inch of your skin, making sure the humans had not done something to you.

Once his eyes slowed to meet you you give him a soft smile, trying to show him that you were ok, but he needed more. His heart was racing, since he had woken up with you, not by his side he had been on a rampage. Anything that had been in his path was now rubble. Despite now having you safe in his arms, adrenaline was still pumping through him.

Not waiting another minute his hand clamps around your neck, gently pushing your back to the ground.

You spread open your knees, already knowing what he had planned. His tongue was on you in seconds, delving into your cunt. You let out a small whine, already overwhelmed. Bakugou had made it his life's mission to find exactly what made you tick. He spent hours teasing your sweet body, watching silently as you wither around, taking mental notes at what moves made you crazy.

If you thought he was good before, he was a god now. Sucking your clit into his mouth with the exact pressure he knew would drive you higher. He did not bother to open your with his fingers, he knew your cunt would still be stretched from the night before.

It only took a few more lashes of his tongue before your legs clamped together around his head. He moaned into your cunt, enjoying the feel of your soft thighs around his head.

When your body stops trembling he pries open your knees, keeping them open as his cock lined up with your entrance. You are too dazed from your orgasm to do anything but lie there as he slowly sinks into your heat.

You both groan at the sensation of him entering you, the burn of the stretch only making the pleasure feel more intense.

He does not give you time to adjust before he is running into you, his heavy balls hitting your skin with each deep thrust. His deep grunts filled your ears, telling you how much he loved being inside you, filling you up with his cum.

A tightness starts to grow in your lower abdomen, like a rope slowing twisting, building tension with each thrust. Your legs started to tremble around him, the muscles quivering with anticipation.

You were already so close, you just needed a little bit more. But Bakugou was not going to let you off that easy. Changing the angle of his thrusts until the tightness loosened. You let out a cry of protest, wanting that feeling to return.

"Beg," he growled into your ear, "Beg if you want to cum on my cock."

You wanted to have outraged, to yell at him and demand more. Instead, your pretty lips opened to say, "Please Bakugou, please let me cum on your cock."

His hips shifted again, his thrusts now hitting the pleasure spot inside your cunt. "More," he groaned, "Beg me for more."

"Bakugou," you cry, losing the ability to think, "Please, I really need to cum, please let me cum. I'll be a good girl I promise, please just let me cum."

"A good girl hm? What does my good girl want me to do?" he panted, his thrusts growing sloppier.

"My clit," you babble, barely coherent, "Please play with my clit."

His lips press themselves on your forehead, wordlessly rewarding your words as his fingers slip through your drenched folds, looking for your little nub. Your body jolts as his fingertips brush past it.

His strong finger surrounded your clit, stroking the tender bud in time with his thrusts. It was enough. With a silent scream, the rope inside you released, sending you spiraling.

You could not control your body as convulsions traveled through you, making every muscle tense. Bakugou watched his hard work pay off before your clenching pussy finally pushed him over the edge. A low groan left his lips as he spilled inside you, his balls twitching as he filled you to the brim with his cum.

He does not bother to pull his cock out as he lifts you into his arms, holding your chest to chest as he carries you back to his tree. Having you filled with his cum finally allowed him to calm down enough to realize why you had been taken but he did not regret destroying everything around him. Humans needed to know who you belonged to the next time they try to take you away.

#bakugou thirst #bakugou smut #mha smut #bnha smut #mha thirsts #bakuogu thirsts

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