#ive been watching pretty little liars

[peteypiessuperfamily]

I woke up from a dream and was possessed to ask if anyone has read a fic where a teacher at Midtown is making passes/is in a "relationship" (im using that word lightly) with Peter or someone his age that he knows about and its eating him up inside so he breaks down and tells Tony and Tony is rightfully pissed and takes matters into his own hands (either through the school or through his gauntlets i dont care) because i want to read a fic like that so bad i just dont know how to look for it or if I have to write it myself

[cursivebloodlines]

I must apologise for the chaotic way my brain currently decides to reply to threads oh my goodness. Generally speaking, I tend to try and reply to the oldest thread first. But sometimes it's more likely to be a certain character I have muse for, or what. These days, it's literally anything everywhere all at once. This is why nothing gets done. Because I write a paragraph on one reply, jump to the next and write a sentence, jump to the next and write two paragraphs...and so it takes me forever. It's a bit chaotic at the moment which is why it takes me a while to update the count sdlkgjadg. I was hoping to get more done but nope lmao. also it's nearly 3am and my head is killing me rn, knowing me i'll probably try and write things in bed still because i'm a dimwit like my muses <3

[rreids]

ok ok ok i see this lingerie set all the time on instagram and ive always wondered how spencer would react you buying/wearing it if you are doing fic requests 👀

https://www.adoreme.com/gynger-white-1

ANGEL • S. REID X READER

fem reader; fingering; kissing; praise and compliments; description of the linked lingerie above; mentions of alcohol consumption; spencer loves you; ~1.5k words

“You look pretty today,” Spencer tells you, breaking the lull in conversation. You’re watching a movie — though neither of you are really paying attention by now, wrapped up in soft whispers and gentle loving caresses. 

You shy from the attention, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Really!” His voice pitches up a little. “You’re beautiful,”

You smile into his skin, curling into his chest fully. “Thank you, Spence,”

He hums when you press a kiss to the column of his throat, relaxing as you place more and more on him. “Do you always get so affectionate when complimented?”

You shake your head and meet his eyes, head a mess of affection and want for the man in front of you. “Just when I really like the person they're from…” you mumble, toying with the bottom of your shirt as you look down. “‘nd when I’m a little wine drunk.”

Spencer laughs softly, fondly, sits up enough to press his lips to yours. He’s been drinking some, too, but he always cuts himself off early and has a higher tolerance. You sigh, curl your fingers into his shoulders and move forward without breaking contact. You slide into his lap, head tilting as he deepens the kiss easily, fingers kneading and rolling the soft flesh of your thighs as he guides your rhythm.

Each time you push for it to move, he pulls back slightly with a smile, looks at you so sweet, and then he kisses you slowly. So slowly. You want nothing more than for him to speed up, but the syrupy and molasses-like slowness and sweetness has heat bubbling up in your core. Without even realizing it, you’re sighing into his kiss, letting out soft gasping sounds of need as you seek friction — hips grinding small circles against him, pressure increasing as you find just the right angle. 

He makes no moves to stop you, but he doesn’t help you either. Eventually, he can’t stop smiling against you and pulls back just enough to look down at the needy circles you’re making against him. Spencer swallows, words dying on his tongue when you shudder, a bolt of pleasure making you dig your nails into his shoulders more harshly. He winces but allows it, pressing forward with more urgency and a deeper kiss. He groans against you when your movements brush against his arousal and you quiver in his grip, muscles tense and skin hot like a live wire.

“Spencer,” you whisper, unable to stop your rocking even then.

“Honey,” his voice is gravely and low, eyes darker as he studies you. He’s watching every small change to your expression as you grind against him, and you whine when he restrains himself from guiding you — he clearly wants to, hands tightening on your hips to the point you know you’ll have bruises.

“More,” you rush out the plea in a sigh, pulling at his shirt. “Anything, just want you.”

“You have me.” Spencer reassures, voice thick. He clears his throat. “I’m all yours, angel girl.”

The pet name spurs you, lips quirking up in a smile. He catches it, brows raising as he licks his own lips.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you’re a terrible liar, even more so when you’re lying to a behavior analyst (you prefer to call him a mind reader), and your long-term boyfriend.

“Really?” He humors you, tempering his smile to look more neutral. “Nothing you want to tell me?”

“Nope!” You chirp, too eager. You guide his hands from your stilled hips to the zipper of hoodie. “Something to show you.”

“I thought there was nothing,” Spencer hums teasingly, slowly tugging the cool metal down your body. His remarks die on his tongue as you shrug the fabric back off your shoulders and down, revealing the lingerie you’d bought.

There’s a ribbon over your breasts, presenting a perfect present to him, a mesh window below it to peer into your cleavage. The ribbon guides his eyes down your waist, and he wonders what the panties look like beneath your shorts.

Spencer searches your face briefly, catching your smile as his eyes fall helplessly back to your chest. “So…– so pretty,” he manages, stumbling over the words. He raises his hands to trail the ribbon and press against the thin mesh window, feeling the weight and heat of your skin through the sheer fabric.

“You like it?” You ask, more so to force words out of him than for reassurance.

He snaps his gaze to your face and nods, kissing you quickly. “You’re perfect, angel. All dolled up like a present,” he slides one bra strap off your shoulder and kisses the skin as he lets it fall. “My perfect gift,”

He tells you often you’re all he ever wants, and as much as that frustrates you when you’re trying to buy him a birthday present, it serves now as a stoke to the flames of your desire. All he wants is you and your beauty, all he can think of is your body.

He unclasps the back of the bra, tugging the ribbon playfully in a pretend untying before tugging it from you. His head dips, pressing kisses and sucking on the sensitive skin. Not enough to leave marks, you always complained about the tenderness, but enough that you arch up into the heat of his mouth and tug him closer by his hair.

“Spencer,” you whisper. “Wanna see my panties?”

He exhales softly, like the amused snort he does through his nose. “Would I ever say no?”

You tilt your head at him. “Well, sorry I wanted explicit consent,”

Spencer shakes his head fondly, kissing your cheek. “Thank you, honey. But yes, I want to see. I want to see all of you,”

You stand and turn so he gets the best sight of your panties as you slide the shorts down — the ribbon over your butt, the smaller strip of fabric that cups the flesh in a way that accentuates every piece of you. You twirl and he presses a kiss to your stomach. It’s ticklish, makes you giggle, and his chin digs into your skin a little as he looks up at you, tracing shapes on your inner thighs so lightly it almost stings from the sensitivity.

You blink at him and he only huffs a laugh, trailing up to the wet patch on your panties. Your knees buckle a little, but he catches you like he always does, guides you back down to him and his mouth. You kiss him like he’s the air you need, whining softly in the back of your throat as he snaps the waistband of the white fabric against you before tugging them to the side. The simultaneous friction of the fabric and his fingers, finding purchase and a rhythm in your slickness, has you shuddering. 

His fingers are always calloused perfectly for this, giving a roughness that contrasts the gentle crook of his fingers and the methodical pace, a perfect mind-numbing mix of everything him. His gentleness betrays him even when you ask him to be rougher; in stolen and short kisses; the affectionate brush of his hand over your insecurities and most sensitive skin; in the way he adjusts perfectly to your non-verbal tells before you even know to voice something.

He’s perfectly attuned to you and your body.

“You’re dripping,” Spencer whispers, awed, and you realize then the sloppy sounds your cunt makes on his hand. You squirm but he shushes you, clicking his tongue. “Such a good girl. Always so ready and willing,”

You whine, grinding down into the palm of his hand as he crooks his fingers just right and eases just that bit further into you. You clench at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut when you can’t handle the sight of his pretty face and intentness on your pleasure in tandem with the feeling anymore.

“Come on,” he urges. “Let go for me,”

He keeps working you, thumb rolling your clit in a mind-numbing tempo that perfectly offsets and melds with his fingers.

“There you go,” he whispers, awed, as your body arches and tenses as the pleasure crescendos and crashes into you in waves, leaving you whimpering and chest heaving as you try to come back from the sea. Spencer’s got you, as he always does, kissing your sweat-slicked skin and whispering praises, a soothing thumb (the clean one) running over your cheek into your nuzzle into his hand. “You did so well, angel,”

You reach for his sweatpants, but he presses back just out of reach. “Give yourself a second.”

“But I want you,” you urge, and Spencer only smiles, unabashed and unreserved fondness.

“And you’ll have it. I’m not going anywhere.”

trying something new both in writing style and characterization bc i am frustrated with how i do both 🫡

[brittle-doughie]

ive said this like twice before but ill say it again ... THANK YOU ,,, im glad you think he's cool 🥺 have a little happi benign butter cookie as a thanks 🫶

also i think i might have a problem . i recently got diagnosed with SMCD (Shadow Milk Cookie Disorder) and apprently it makes you think about him . 😢 he got me cooking up a whole sketch (i might refine it but im not sure if i have the time and patience to ^_^;;;;;;;;;;)

silly evil jester has got me HEHEHEHHEHEHE and all, unfortunately 😞

Your art, even as a sketch is looking pretty nice too! Keep up the good work with your skills! I’m still flabbergasted whenever someone draws my writings, wowie.

“A tough decision indeed! And only one chance to use the Guardian’s power right. What will it be? Let’s wait and see!”

You yelled at him to let them all go! Shadow Milk’s business was with you, not them!

“What’s the matter, my dear Butter~? Do you hold these cookies dear? Are they speeeecial~?”

You told him to not call you that…Y/N Cookie was your nam-

“WRONG! That’s the name these PESTS gave you! All that time with them…it makes me want to free their heads off their shoulders already!”

“Don’t!”

“As for you! What makes YOU believe that what you have with my beloved Butter is even comparable to what I have for them! What my comrades have for them!”

“For as long as I can remember, I have been the one to make them smile and laugh! Not you….ME! We were practicing stuck together like GLUE!”

“Then those CURSED WITCHES decided to lock me and the others away, by BRAINWASHING my Benign Butter Cookie into doing their bidding!”

“I had to watch as that LIAR Pure Vanilla Cookie become the best of pals with them, getting chummy and close. It made me want to escape that tree faster and destroy him! But my rage wouldn’t be comparable to another comrade of mine…she was just DYING to get out.”

“But now that I’m here, I can FINALLY reunite with them. They won’t need YOU or those other half cookies anymore…they’ll only need us…”

You stepped up…you told him that he’s lost it, he’s insane if he thinks you’ll ever go back to him or the others….

“Fine, I’ll confess…I may be a little obsessed and insane, but it’s all for you, my Butter wutter~ Don’t worry about your friend, she’ll be making her exit now~”

If he thought he’ll get away with this, then think again!

“Y/N Cookie….”

“I’ll be right there with you…”

“HANDS OFF MY BENIGN BUTTER COOKIE, PEST!”

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.9

Chapter Summary: Joel nurses you back to health and you come to a startling realization about your future together.

Chapter Warnings: language, descriptions of some injuries, fluff, protective Joel, soft Joel, little bit of angst, lots of feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering

WC: 6K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

After arriving back in Jackson, you ended up spending nearly three weeks in the infirmary. Your injuries were worse than you thought. From what you could remember, Bill said you had some internal damage along with several fractures and sprains. The cut in your leg was infected, but fortunately Eugene's group did manage to successfully trade for the rest of the antibiotics before everything happened in Salt Lake City.

You ended up sleeping quite a bit in those weeks, but Ellie told you later that Joel hardly ever left your side. She had said she would get into arguments with him, trying to convince him to take turns at your bedside so he could go home and rest, but he refused.

"I don't know which one of you is more stubborn - you or him," Bill mumbled to you as he gently removed the IV from your arm. You chuckled, your eyes finding his broad form outside your bedroom talking quietly with Tommy, just out of earshot.

"Definitely him."

You were grateful Bill let you go home, but he insisted on doing house visits twice a day until you were on your feet. Most of your superficial wounds had healed but you were still very tired and weak. Bill could see improvement every day, and he said that's all that mattered.

On his way out, Bill stopped to check in with Joel, no doubt updating him on your condition and any medicine he would have to administer for you. You watched his face as he listened intently, his brow furrowed as he looked down at the bottles Bill handed him. You had to stifle a giggle when you saw him squint at the label and hold it further away from his face.

While Joel and Bill continued to talk, Tommy slipped past them and into your room, giving you a grin as he plopped down in the chair next to your bed.

"Lookin' good," he said, making you laugh and then wince, gingerly touching your ribs.

"Liar," you said, and he chuckled, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the scabs and yellow bruises with a sigh.

"Just wanna let you know, we cut off all trades with 'em," he said, his voice taking on a serious tone.

"I figured. I know they had a lot of things we could use - "

"We'll find those things somewhere else. Not worth it," he said, cutting you off.

You nodded and cast your gaze to the side.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he replied, tapping his foot on the floor. "Maria said she was gonna stop by later after work, you think you're up for it?"

"Yeah, of course," you said, although you honestly couldn't tell these days. It seemed like you fell asleep at the drop of a hat.

"How's Ellie?" you asked him. Whenever you asked Joel, he frustratingly just gave you the most basic information. She's fine. She's in school. Think I saw her with a couple girls the other day.

"She's adjusting real good. She's been stayin' with Julia, but I'm not sure it's a permanent solution for either of them." He eyed you carefully as your gaze drifted over his shoulder at Joel, who was walking Bill down the steps to the front door. "You got any ideas?"

"Me?" you asked, looking back to him now and raising your eyebrows in surprise. You knew what he was implying, and he just nodded.

"I would love it if she wanted to stay here, but I'm pretty sure Joel wouldn't like that, and I really don't want to push him right now. He's so stressed, Tommy. I can see it in his eyes. He's not sleeping well, and I'm worried about his blood pressure -"

"Have you talked to him about it? About the kid?" Tommy asked, and you shook your head.

"No, but he made his feelings pretty well known when she first got here."

"Lots happened since then. He might surprise you," Tommy said, standing up with a grunt. You frowned and opened your mouth to question him further when Joel walked through the door, his gaze falling on his brother.

"Just headin' out, don't worry, I know she needs her rest," Tommy said, sneaking you a wink as he headed towards the door. You thanked him for visiting and listened to them walk down the stairs, their voices fading the further they got until the door closed and all that was left was Joel's heavy footsteps slowly coming back up. He reached the door and leaned against the frame as he gave you a small smile, but you could see how exhausted he was. His eyes looked bloodshot and his shoulders sagged.

"Come here," you whispered, and he quickly pushed off the wall to come to your side.

"What'dya need, sweetheart?" he asked, glancing at the cup next to your bed, making sure it was still filled with water. "Hungry?"

"No," you said, shaking your head, but he looked at his watch and mentally did the math.

"You'll have to eat somethin' soon with your meds, what can I make you?" he asked, and you shook your head again.

"Can you please just lay with me for a while?"

He hesitated but you reached out to drag your fingertips against his wrist, urging him closer to the bed, and he gave in.

"Alright, only for a few minutes," he said, rounding the end of the bed and collapsing onto the covers with a groan, sliding his eyes closed in relief.

"I wish you'd rest more," you murmured after you gingerly rolled yourself onto your side so you could look at him. "I'm worried about you."

He chuckled and turned his head to the side to look at you in disbelief.

"You're worried about me? You're jokin', right?"

You reached out to lightly brush a stray curl away from his eyes, choosing not to reply. You knew it would be a losing battle anyway.

"Can't rest," he said, staring at you with his eyes all soft. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to rest again."

"Why?" you asked, your brow furrowing.

He shook his head, his eyes still pinned on yours and you watched them slowly fill with tears. You gave him a look of concern and inched a bit closer to cup his face, the pad of your thumb swiping over his rough beard as you waited for him to open up.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, his voice thick as he tried to hold back his tears. "It's all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault -"

"I keep lettin' you down. Over and over again," he continued, a tear slipping down his cheek. "And I just wanna tell you that I understand now. 'Bout all of it. Why you're so scared 'bout havin' a family or gettin' married. And it's fine, I won't bring it up again, alright?"

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" you asked, searching his face for answers.

"I can't - " he paused and took a deep breath before trying again. "I can't take care of us. I thought I could but it's clear I can't when all this bad shit keeps happenin'. But if you'll still have me, I'll be right here, okay? I'll take whatever you wanna give me, I don't care 'bout any of that other shit anymore. I just want you."

"Slow down," you said, trying to wrap your fatigued mind around what he was saying. Your grip on his jaw tightened before you continued. "You never let me down, do you understand me? You are the only fucking thing that kept me going the past few years. Without you, I would be dead. I would have died that very first day. I owe you my life, Joel. How do you not see that?"

He just shook his head, refusing to accept what you were saying, so you kept going.

"I should have just been honest with you, but it took me a while to figure out why I was so scared about - "

"You don't need to explain - "

"Let me finish," you said, and he clamped his mouth shut. "It's not you, Joel. Well, it is. But not for the reason you think."

He frowned, blinking back tears as he waited for you to continue.

"It's because I love you so much that it scares me." You could feel your own tears forming now, but you tried to push through. "If something were to happen to you out there and I was left all alone, I don't know how I could go on." You swiped away a few tears that fell as you spoke. "And I'm terrified of getting married because if you die, that day will haunt me, Joel. Every single year when the anniversary comes, I - "

You stopped for a moment, your breaths coming in short gasps. He tried to shush you and pull you closer, but you shook your head.

"I'm not strong enough," you finished with a small sob. This time, you let him pull you into his chest while his big hands cradled the back of your head, patting down your hair, soothing you.

"Does that make sense?" you blubbered, pulling back to look at him.

He nodded slowly, his eyes raking down your face.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Thought I wasn't gonna get you back after they took you. Thought I lost you forever."

The two of you sat in silence for a minute, lost in each other's eyes, the truth finally spoken and swirling around the quiet room as you both clung to the other, just grateful to be alive.

"But you did get me back," you finally said, breaking the silence. "You did that. You saved me. Again." You ran your finger gently over his bottom lip and he gave the tip of your finger a little kiss.

"You might think you can't keep me safe, but in reality, you are the only reason I'm still here." The puzzle was finally piecing together in your mind as you spoke.

"That's not true," he said immediately. "Every situation that's put you at risk could've been avoided if I had protected you more. I wouldn't have to save you if I didn't put you in harm's way in the first place."

"But this is the world we live in, Joel. None of us will ever truly be safe ever again. And it's not because of something you did. It's just a really shitty hand we were all dealt and now we have to figure out a way to make the most of it and survive." You paused for a moment, something in your brain finally clicking as the words came tumbling out.

"We can't let fear run our lives," you said softly.

He looked at you, your gaze fixed on the wall behind him as what Maria said so long ago finally made sense. It was like you were seeing through the fog. Like a weight was lifted off your shoulders and you could breathe deeply for the very first time.

It took you and Joel to finally have a raw and honest conversation, but you thought you understood what she meant now.

"You okay?" Joel asked, clearly confused. You let your gaze fall back to him and you grinned.

"Yeah," you said breathlessly, then tugged him forward so you could press your lips against his, your fingers curling around the back of his neck to hold him against you.

You weren't afraid anymore.

A few days later, you woke up to the sound of the front door downstairs swinging shut. Your eyes snapped open and you strained your ears, trying to listen to the muffled words through the closed bedroom door.

"Told ya to be quiet, she's tryin' to sleep," you heard Joel say.

"Sorry, the fucking wind took the door from me and this stupid backpack is so heavy. Why do I even need to go to school? Who cares about this stuff anymore?"

"I do, 'cause it keeps you out of trouble and outta my hair."

"Ha, yeah right. You know both those things are impossible, old man," you heard Ellie scoff.

"How the hell old do you think I am?"

"The way you can barely read the instructions on the back of that pasta box? You don't want me to answer that."

You grinned as you listened to the two of them bicker amongst themselves. You weren't sure when it happened, but at some point in the past several weeks, Joel and Ellie finally seemed to have a breakthrough in their relationship. You wanted to ask, but you didn't want to draw attention to it. The two of them were so alike in so many ways that you knew if you pointed it out, they would pull back and stop making progress. So in the meantime, you just enjoyed listening and watching them whenever you got the chance.

With a small grunt, you pushed yourself off the mattress and swung your legs over the side of the bed, taking a moment to catch your breath before reaching out and using the end table to support your weight so you could stand. Walking was getting easier; the worst part was still the healing gash in your thigh. Bill said the knife one of Amy's men used must have cut through some muscle, so you were slowly building your strength back up by taking very short walks around your bedroom every day.

With small, careful steps, you managed to get to your bedroom door and open it quietly, listening to Ellie helping Joel make spaghetti in the kitchen while she told him about her day. You stopped at the top of the stairs and peered down.

"Ellie?" you called out softly.

You heard a spoon clatter on the counter and Joel's heavy footsteps jog to the foot of the stairs. He looked up at you with a towel in his hand, worry etched across his face. Ellie quickly joined him and looked up at you with a grin.

"What's wrong? Why're you up?" Joel asked, taking the steps two at a time.

"Nothing!" you said with a smile as he reached the top and wrapped an arm around you gently to help steady you. "I just wanted to see Ellie."

"I thought you were asleep," she said, bounding up the stairs.

"C'mon, let's get back to bed," Joel urged. You sighed and allowed him to lead you back to the bedroom, but you chose to sit on the edge of the bed instead of getting back under the covers like he clearly wanted you to do.

"Come on, tell me what's going on out there. Joel's not much of a gossip," you told Ellie with a wink, and Joel huffed somewhere behind you, fixing the sheets.

"Well, Maria wants to get married the second you're back on your feet. Says she wants to do it before she starts showing," Ellie started, and you felt the mattress dip with Joel's weight next to you.

"Yeah, she told me that already. What else? How's school?"

"It's alright. I met a few girls, we hang out sometimes."

"That's great!" you told her, happy that she was acclimating well. "How's Julia?"

Ellie sighed and rolled her eyes at the mention of the older school teacher who graciously let her live with her.

"She's nice, but she's just got such strict rules. I've gotten into it with her a couple times when I was late for curfew," Ellie admitted, looking down at her fingers twisting in her lap.

"It's important that you listen to her, y'know. She's just lookin' out for you," Joel said softly, and you had to tuck your chin against your chest to hide your smile. He was so sweet with her now, like he had known her his whole life, and it took some time getting used to hearing it.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ellie said sullenly. "I just get so bored. She spends her evenings planning her lessons or knitting. Knitting! It's so quiet over there, I feel like I'm going to lose my mind."

"Well, why don't you move in with us?" Joel asked with a shrug. Both you and Ellie froze, your eyes widened in shock. You slowly turned your head to the side to look at him, unable to form words.

"What?" he asked, swiveling his head back and forth when neither of you said anything.

You were about to respond when Ellie jumped up excitedly, about to wrap her arms around Joel's shoulders, then stopped herself.

"Really? Can I?" Her eyes darted between you both, a huge grin plastered across her face.

"Yeah," you said breathlessly with a nod. "Yeah, of course you can." You tried your best to blink back the tears that were quickly forming.

The three of you heard some hissing coming from downstairs and Joel leapt up, muttering about the water for the pasta as he clattered quickly down the steps, leaving just you and Ellie.

"Holy shit," she said, still grinning.

"Uh, yeah, 'holy shit' is right," you said with a chuckle.

"You didn't have anything to do with that?"

"Me? Nope," you said, quickly shaking your head. "Although it was on my mind, I just never found the right time to talk to him about it."

"Wow," she muttered, sitting on the bed next to you. "Guess he doesn't hate me, after all."

"Told you," you said, nudging her shoulder with your own.

You sat in silence for a moment, deep in thought while you listened to Joel muttering to himself in the kitchen. A smile played across your lips at the sheer domesticity of it. A feeling that you never thought you would get to experience just fell into your lap when you least expected it.

"I never got a chance to ask," you began, and Ellie turned her attention back towards you. "Does anyone else know?"

She shook her head.

"When you were passed out in the truck on the way back, Joel told me he had to tell Tommy and Maria but then he got so distracted with you at the infirmary that I guess he never got around to it."

You hummed and nodded, wondering if Joel truly forgot or if he changed his mind. Either way, you knew it would have to come out some day, but you had hoped it would be on Ellie's terms.

"And what did he tell Tommy? About the Fireflies?"

"The truth. Well, mostly. Just left out a few things. He told him they were working on a vaccine and that they kidnapped you, obviously."

"But how did he explain why they took me without telling him they really wanted you?" you asked, your pain killers making it tough to keep up.

"I told them they took people to experiment on," she said. "I thought that's what they were doing, anyway, at first."

You chewed your lip for a moment, eager to learn more but careful about pushing her too far.

"How did you guys find me?" you finally asked. You had tried to get the story out of Joel multiple times already, but he kept dodging the question, and the curiosity was getting the best of you.

Ellie's body stiffened next to you. She straightened her back as she took a sharp inhale of breath.

"He didn't tell you?"

You just shook your head slowly.

"Well, we, uh, went back to my aunt and uncle's house," she said, dropping her eyes to her lap. "He figured out they were the ones who called the Fireflies to come take you. Or, I guess me, but whatever."

"Oh," you said softly. You hadn't expected Ellie to know about any of that.

"It's alright, Joel told me after you were taken. That you thought they might've sold me off," she said, as if reading your mind.

"Ellie, I'm so sorry," you said, but she just shook her head.

"It's fine," she said, but you could see in her face she was hurt. After a moment, she added "it worked out in the end, right? I found you guys."

You gave her a tight smile as you felt the swell of emotions rising up your chest, squeezing your throat. You cared for Ellie so deeply that you were almost inclined to agree with her. Even though you were just as happy to have her in your lives, it still made you sick to think about what she had to endure to get there.

Then, you realized Ellie never elaborated about their return visit. You glanced over at her and wanted to ask, but decided against it. She looked upset enough, and if it was anything like you saw at the hospital, you preferred not to bring it up.

Joel startled you both by appearing silently in the doorframe.

"You girls ready to eat?"

Girls. The way he said it warmed your heart.

"So long as you didn't burn it," Ellie said teasingly as she stood up from the bed. "I'll bring some up for you," she said to you over your shoulder as she headed down the stairs.

"C'mon, lemme help you get back in bed and I'll get your tray," Joel said, but instead you held out a hand to stop him, making him look at you.

"Thank you," you whispered, cupping his face with both hands.

"For what?"

You smiled at him and he lifted an eyebrow at you, amused but curious.

"For giving me a family."

It took a few weeks, but your bones eventually healed and you were able to get back to work. Maria would only schedule you for half days and you argued that you could do more, but by the time you got home after only four hours, you had to admit you were exhausted.

Bill told you it would take some time for you to feel like yourself again, that it was completely normal and that you would need to build your strength back up. You had to constantly remind Joel you needed to start doing things for yourself, but he would still do whatever he could to keep you from getting up too much.

Joel heard you sigh from the bathroom and within seconds he was in the doorway, buttoning up his dress shirt with a tie draped loosely around his neck.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," you said quickly as you continued to stare into the mirror and fidget with your hair. "I can't get my hair to look the way I want it."

"I think you look beautiful," he said, sauntering over with his shirt still untucked to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, gazing at you in the mirror while he planted a quick kiss to your neck.

You sighed and tilted your head to the side, encouraging him to explore your neck more. You arched your back just a bit, pushing yourself back into his hips, causing his arms to stiffen around you.

"No funny business," he murmured against your skin, and you grinned.

"Not even a little funny business?" you teased, and you felt him chuckle lightly against your back.

"Nope. We're gonna be late," he said, pulling back suddenly but giving you a small tap on your ass with his palm before he walked away.

You glanced at the time and gasped quietly. He was right. Tommy and Maria's rehearsal dinner was in ten minutes, and even though it was just a handful of you at their house, you still didn't want to be late. Maria spent too much time planning this wedding and the last thing you were interested in doing was setting off the short fuse she had developed over the past couple weeks.

Quickly, you put on some old lipstick and fixed your dress before turning off the bathroom light. Joel was just finishing up knotting his tie, leaning forward a bit with his lips parted as he watched himself carefully in the mirror above your dresser and you had to resist the urge to push him down on the bed right then and there.

Ever since your energy slowly began coming back, so did your desire for Joel, but he was adamant about waiting until you were feeling better, which just left you feeling crazier by the day. You weren't sure if it was because you were finally on the mend, or maybe it had something to do with your breakthrough with him, but you found yourself feeling a lot needier than usual.

"Ready?" he asked you before running his fingers casually through his curls once more and walking over to you. You nodded, your lips pressed together as you glanced down at the blue shirt and navy slacks he picked out.

"You look good," you told him, your tone suggestive. He smirked and took your hand, leading you out of the bedroom.

"Ellie, we're leavin'," Joel called out to her, ignoring your compliment. "There's leftovers in the fridge!"

"Okay!" she called out, the sound of her music softly flowing through the floorboards as you made your way downstairs.

"Should we bring any pain killers in case you start gettin' sore?" Joel asked.

"No, I'll be fine."

"You sure? 'Cause-"

"Alright fine, we can bring them," you relented, just eager to get out of the house at this point. You pocketed them in your small purse and the two of you headed out towards Tommy and Maria's house, luckily arriving with two minutes to spare.

"How are you feeling?" you asked Maria as she greeted you with a warm hug.

"Me? What about you?" she said with a laugh.

"Oh, I'm fine! I want to hear all about you and what the future hellraiser is putting you through."

"She ain't fine," Joel said behind you, turning his head away from his brother. "Bill said-"

"Bill said I need to work on building up my strength. To me, that's fine," you told him, and he rolled his eyes.

"You two are so alike, it's scary, you know that?" Maria asked, leading you into the kitchen for a drink. You smiled and waved when you saw Carrie and Jake, along with Eugene and another woman who you thought was named Tina, but you couldn't quite remember, rounding out the rest of their wedding party.

"So really, how have you been feeling?" you asked her, taking the glass of wine she offered you.

"Nauseous, but it's getting a little better. And tired. Oh my god, I'm so tired all the damn time, it's crazy!"

"Oh, wow," you said, taking a sip before adding "you aren't even showing yet. How far along did Bill say you were?"

"I'm close to the end of the first trimester, thank god. He says that's when the nausea usually goes away and I should get some energy back," she said, checking the oven briefly before straightening back up. "But enough about me. How are you two?" she asked, nodding subtly towards Joel in the living room with Tommy and now Eugene.

"Better. Much better. We had a good talk after we got back, and I think we're on the same page," you said, glancing around the room at the others, making sure they were out of earshot.

"What page is that, exactly?" she pushed with a smirk.

"He's okay with not getting married or having kids," you replied with a noncommittal shrug. She narrowed her eyes at you and you frowned. "What?"

"Is that what you really want, though?"

"Well," you said, glancing around once again before lowering your voice. "I've come around to the whole marriage thing, but I don't really know how to tell him. I feel like I keep jerking him around and I don't know what to do."

"You need to be honest with him," she said immediately, and you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I just made this huge fuss -"

"It doesn't matter. This is your life, you have to do what's right. He might be confused at first but you know he will be so fucking ecstatic he will forget all about it, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," you said, glancing over your shoulder to watch him laugh with Tommy, a glass of whiskey in his hand. "I just need to figure out how to tell him."

"And kids?" she asked, causing you to whip your head back around.

"I'm not there yet. But maybe one day," you finally admitted, making her squeal out with excitement and causing the rest of the guests to look your way.

"Sorry! The chicken just came out perfectly!" Maria said with a giggle. You laughed with her as you locked eyes with Joel and he raised a curious eyebrow at you. You shrugged and gave him a quick smile before turning back to Maria.

"Alright, enough of that. What can I do to help?"

"You sure you ain't in any pain? Maybe you should take somethin' before bed," Joel said as he watched you wince when you leaned over to take your heels off.

"I'm okay, I promise. It's the damn shoes," you explained, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing your calf. "Was I this annoying when you were hurt?"

"Worse," he said with a grin before sitting down next to you and taking your legs over his lap, his own fingers taking over, rubbing the sore muscles and doing a far better job.

"Thank you," you said breathily as you closed your eyes and leaned forward so your head was resting on his shoulder. You sat in silence for a moment, his strong hands digging into your calves, content to be in your shared home with Ellie safe and sound, right down the hall.

"Joel?"

"Hm?"

"Something's different," you said softly, your eyes still closed.

"What'dya mean?" he murmured, his lips pressed against the top of your head.

"I feel... safe," you said, opening your eyes a bit and staring at the wall across from your bed, his fingers still working your legs.

"That's good, baby," he whispered.

"No, I mean..." you paused, searching for the words, not sure how to say it. "I mean I'm not scared anymore."

His fingers paused as he absorbed your words, trying to figure out what you were saying.

"That's... good," he repeated, not quite understanding. You sighed and tilted your face up to look at him, your arm stretching up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a soft kiss. Another time, you thought. You'll figure out how to explain it another time.

You slipped your tongue past his lips, your fingers raking through his hair as the hand that was once on your calf slowly migrated up past your knee and to your thigh. Greedily, you nipped at his bottom lip and leaned backwards so you were flat on the bed, Joel partially on top of you while your lips moved faster, leaving quick, desperate kisses against his mouth.

"Hang on," he whispered, but you kept going, your heart slamming in your chest. Now that you felt him on top of you again, it was sparking a fire between your legs.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked jokingly, pulling back a bit and pinning your wrists into the mattress, your chest heaving.

"Please, Joel," you begged, not caring how pathetic you sounded.

"C'mon, you know you ain't ready yet. You're still healing," he mumbled sweetly, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

"I am ready," you promised, but he just shook his head.

"We got a big day tomorrow," he whispered in your ear before sitting up, his weight no longer pressing against your upper half. "Let's just go to bed."

You pouted as you sat up next to him and he grinned.

"Ain't gonna work on me, sweetheart."

Then, an idea occurred to you. You shrugged and stood up, walking towards the bathroom as you slowly unzipped your dress, letting it pool at your feet only when you were in the safety of the small room. You turned around, hand on the door, only wearing your underwear as you took in Joel's slack jawed expression, his eyes slowly raking up and down your nearly naked frame.

"I'm gonna shower," you said quietly, his eyes still glued to your body. "You wanna join me?"

You could see the conflict in his face, trying so desperately to hold back and keep a clear head.

Finally, he forced himself to shake his head. You pouted again then shut the door, but not before sliding your underwear down your legs first, giving him a little show.

The water had barely gotten warm enough to step under the stream when he ripped open the shower curtain and stepped into the tub. You looked at him and smirked.

"I thought you said -"

He silenced you with his mouth covering yours, pushing you up against the cool tile while his knee slotted between your legs and his hand slowly drifted down your stomach. You gasped and smiled against his mouth when his fingers pressed exactly where you needed him.

"You need me that bad, huh?" he murmured against your mouth, and you nodded.

"Yes," you whined, arching your back off the wall, your wet body pressing up against his as his fingers dipped inside you and dragged them back out, smearing a mix of your arousal and water expertly over your clit.

"Can't be too loud, now," he reminded you, swallowing your breathless moans as his fingers circled faster. Your nails dug into his shoulders, holding on tightly as he brought you to the edge way too quickly, months of not being touched by him finally coming to a head.

"Joel," you whispered, burying your face into his neck as you felt the muscles in your stomach tense. He wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you up just in time. Your legs went lax, your arms and Joel the only thing keeping you upright as you felt the coil in your belly snap, your sounds muffled against his skin and the water beating down around you.

"Better?" he asked when you finally found the strength to hold yourself back up. You nodded, your eyelids drooping, but you still slid your hand down his stomach. Right as you were about to wrap your fingers around him, he stopped you.

"Not tonight," he said, and you frowned. "It's late. We gotta get to bed."

If you weren't so exhausted, you would have put up a bigger fight. You leaned into him as he gently massaged shampoo into your hair, your eyes closed, blindly letting him direct you under the water to rinse before he got started on your body, his strong hands spreading the soap over your skin in circles.

He helped you get out of the tub and wrapped you in a towel as he dried your hair, his own body dripping water all over the floor. You lazily watched him work, a slow smile creeping across your face. He noticed and raised an eyebrow at you.

"I like it when you take care of me," you explained, and you swore you saw a little bit of pink dust his cheeks. He led you to bed, tucking the cool sheets around you as he brushed your damp hair away from your eyes. "Want you to take care of me forever," you mumbled as your eyes slid shut. He smiled, then his hand froze as his lips pursed in thought.

I feel safe.

I'm not scared anymore.

He finally understood what you were trying to tell him, and his heart began to flutter excitedly in his chest.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark @merz-8 @sarahhxx03 @oscarissac2099 @motherjoel @silas-222 @b3l1nd5 @rocket-raccoon-silvie @missladym1981 @angie2274 @maried01 @ashleyfilm @alltheotps @mybworlds

[fir3ylolol]

i had an idea…i’ve been thinking A Lot about that one johnny cage skin with the red shirt where he has the forearm tattoos…. maybe they’re those long lasting temporary ones and he has them on for a movie? and reader is realllllly into them

place beyond the pines

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: your boyfriend comes home, with a couple of new additions 0.0

tw: vaginal penetration, fingering, afab reader, gn reader, slightly dirty talk, groping, established relationship, sloppy makeout, smut, shameless smut

a/n: im alive! ive beaten a cold, finally. glad to write again! it's almost break for me, so i'm gna try to stay consistent. and if not…don't be mad at me pls. ALSO check out my works in progress post linked in my pinned to see what's to come ;P

word count: 1.15 k

Ao3

The front door shuts firmly, and you perk up at the sound. That sound means only one thing: your boyfriend is home. He’s not usually home at this hour, so you’re really excited to see him more after a long, lazy day in sweatpants and baggy t-shirts. But as you rush out to see him, you’re stopped by the sight in front of you. There, standing by the doorway, is Johnny, in a tight red compression shirt with the sleeves pushed up. On his exposed forearms, you see black and white American Traditional tattoos, interlaced with a snake twisting its way up his arm. You’re caught off-guard, frozen across the room from him as he puts his keys down on the entry table.

He turns to face you, with a wide but tired smile. But he notices your still state and his face drops slightly in confusion. He walks over, shaking your shoulders lightly. “Love? You ok there?” You snap out of it, shaking your head as you do. “Yeah, sorry, I just…what are those?” You shakily reach your arms out to trace down the patterns. He lifts them to meet your hands, smile returning, “Don’t you think they’re cool? They’re just temporary, but it’s for that movie I was just cast in. You know, ex-cons tend to have tattoos so,” he gestures with his head. You start to fluster further, feeling the warmth of his skin under the intricate patterns and artwork. Finally, the gears start turning in his head and he laughs lightly. “You like them, don’t you?” Your head bolts up, embarrassed that you were so blatantly called out. You shake your head rapidly, stepping back slightly. “No, I just think the art is cool!” He steps forward, smirking at how flustered you are, lightly grabbing your wrist.

“Really? Because it feels like you think it's hot, and it’s flustering you,” his other hand coming up to cup your face tenderly. You try to turn it into a joke, pushing past his touch to walk towards the kitchen. “Come on, stop playing. You must be hungry, ri-” You’re abruptly cut off as that familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist and hold you in place. You’re about to protest until you hear a gravely quiet voice in your ear, “You’re a shit liar, you know.” Suddenly, your feet no longer touch the ground, being carried towards the couch with little to no say. You would fight it but…you don’t really want to. Your eyes are locked on the sight of them, art straining against the veins that pop out of his skin as he constricts around you. You feel him slowly sit down, grip on you still tight as you end up on his lap. You expect him to ease up, but when has Johnny ever gone easy? You notice his hold on you loosening, but his hands start to travel. One traces its way up your chest, reaching your head and gently holding your jaw. The other slips towards your waistband, fingers moving teasingly slow. He leans his head forward, warm breath against your ear as he whispers, “I had a pretty long day…wanna help me relax, baby?” Overwhelmed slightly by him, you nod against his hold on your face.

You watch as his inked hand slides lower, not as teasing anymore. But he loves to put on a show, and he shuffles your sweatpants off slightly. His voice, slightly louder this time, rasps out, “Gotta make sure you can see the whole show.” Helping direct your head down, you watch as his fingers circle against your clit. You jolt at the feeling, but his grip on you tightens slightly, keeping your back pressed into his strong chest. You’re slightly dizzy, watching as he sinks one finger inside you, hand tensing at the feeling. You can feel a heavy sigh from him, as he continues to curl in and out of you. His thumb reaches up, returning to sit comfortably against your clit again. As he moves, speed increasing bit by bit, you can’t help to whine out. The sight of his detailed art disappearing inside you, the feeling of his rough thumb moving so softly. As he slides another finger in, a gentle moan slipping out, he lifts your head again. He tilts it back, resting it against his shoulder. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he brushes your face off, his face barely visible from your angle. But he never stops, steady pace as you squirm at the sensation. But his free hand shows up again, clinging to your chest. It’s as if he’s holding himself back from moving at a ruthless pace, but he can only hold so much back. You can hear murmurs echoing through his throat against your right ear, incoherent, but very much through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, he’s speeding up more, his hand on your chest loosening slightly. At the angle of your head, you can’t muffle yourself, louder and louder moans as his hand starts to grab and massage your chest. You can hear him clearer now, voice carrying better, “God, look at you. You look so good like this, spread out just for me. You feel so good, baby, shit.” You can feel him growing sloppier, and more impatient than before. But you’re not far from cumming, your hands desperately searching for purchase. One latches to his thigh under you, and the other on his wrist, moving as he pumps his fingers inside you. You help guide him slightly, shuddering as he touches the exact right spot. You’re nearly seeing stars, but you lift your head, letting it flop forward. His entire arm is moving at this point, both flexing at the effort he’s exerting. As you manage to gasp out that you’re close, the hand on your chest lets go and shoots back to your jaw. He turns your head, angling in back and to the side, as his lips collide with yours. His kisses are as sloppy as his moves, desperate for more of you than there is. Your grip tightens and you feel him groan into your mouth at the feeling. That does it, a harsh flinch as you cum around his fingers. Both of you are moaning at this point, unable to break the kiss. You’re not sure which voice is yours anymore as it echoes through your head. But as he removes his fingers, you break the kiss, taking a deep breath as you rest your head against his shoulder again. You hear as he brings the drenched fingers to his mouth, wanting to get every last bit of you as possible. But it only lasts so long, as he removes them with a quiet, “Ew, these things taste bad.” After a pause, he scrambles to clarify himself, “Not you! The tattoos! They taste bad, not you.”

[lemoncakz]

LIST OF ALL SANSA OUTFITS MENTIONED IN ASOIAF BOOKS

THIS WILL ONLY INCLUDE OUTFITS SHE ACTUALLY WORN (not ones she had dreams of or ones she saw but never worn).

AGOT—

outfit one:

“She had brushed out her long auburn hair until it shone, and picked her nicest blue silks.” - sansa i

“His eldest daughter stepped forward hesitantly. She was dressed in blue velvets trimmed with white, a silver chain around her neck. Her thick auburn hair had been brushed until it shone. She” - ned iii

outfit two:

“Sansa was dressed beautifully that day, in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair, and she knew they were looking at her and smiling.” - sansa ii

outfit three:

“Sansa had put on a lovely pale green damask gown and a look of remorse—“ - sansa iii

outfit four:

“It was running down her nose and stinging her eyes. Sansa wiped it away with a napkin. When she saw what the fruit in her lap had done to her beautiful ivory silk dress, she shrieked again—“ - sansa iii

“She called me a liar and threw an orange at me and spoiled my dress, the ivory silk, the one Queen Cersei gave me when I was betrothed to Prince Joffrey.” - sansa iii

outfit five:

“She was dressed in mourning, as a sign of respect for the dead king, but she had taken special care to make herself beautiful. Her gown was the ivory silk that the queen had given her, the one Arya had ruined, but she'd had them dye it black and you couldn't see the stain at all. She had fretted over her jewelry for hours and finally decided upon the elegant simplicity of a plain silver chain.” - sansa v

outfit six:

“She chose a simple dress of dark grey wool, plainly cut but richly embroidered around the collar and sleeves. Her fingers felt thick and clumsy as she struggled with the silver fastenings without the benefit of servants.” - sansa iv

outfit seven:

“And there in their midst was Sansa, dressed in sky-blue silk, with her long auburn hair washed and curled and silver bracelets on her wrists. Arya scowled, wondering what her sister was doing here, why she looked so happy.” - arya v

ACOK—

outfit eight:

“She wore a gown of pale purple silk and a moonstone hair net that had been a gift from Joffrey. The gown had long sleeves to hide the bruises on her arms. Those were Joffrey's gifts as well.” - sansa i

outfit nine:

“One of the women went away and came back with a green wool shift that was almost her size. "It's not as pretty as your own things, but it will serve," she announced when she'd pulled it down over Sansa's head. "Your shoes weren't burned, so at least you won't need to go barefoot to the queen." - sansa iv

ASOS—

outfit ten:

“Cersei herself arrived with the seamstress, and watched as they dressed Sansa in her new clothes. The smallclothes were all silk, but the gown itself was ivory samite and cloth-of-silver, and lined with silvery satin. The points of the long dagged sleeves almost touched the ground when she lowered her arms. And it was a woman's gown, not a little girl's, there was no doubt of that. The bodice was slashed in front almost to her belly, the deep vee covered over with a panel of ornate Myrish lace in dove-grey. The skirts were long and full, the waist so tight that Sansa had to hold her breath as they laced her into it. They brought her new shoes as well, slippers of soft grey doeskin that hugged her feet like lovers. "You are very beautiful, my lady," the seamstress said when she was dressed. am, aren't I?" Sansa giggled, and spun, her skirts swirling around her. "Oh, I am." She could not wait for Willas to see her like this. He will love me, he will, he must . . . he will forget Winterfell when he sees me, I'll see that he does. Queen Cersei studied her critically. "A few gems, I think. The moonstones Joffrey gave her." - sansa iii

outfit eleven:

“She had no blacks, so she chose a dress of thick brown wool. The bodice was decorated with freshwater pearls, though. The cloak will cover them. The cloak was a deep green, with a large hood. She slipped the dress over her head, and donned the cloak, though she left the hood down for the moment. There were shoes as well, simple and sturdy, with flat heels and square toes.” - sansa v

outfit twelve:

“You said I must wear the hair net. The silver net with . . . what sort of stones are those?" — "Amethysts. Black amethysts from Asshai, my lady." - sansa v

Shae was helping Sansa with her hair when they entered the bedchamber. Joy and grief, he thought when he beheld them there together. Laughter and tears. Sansa wore a gown of silvery satin trimmed in vair, with dagged sleeves that almost touched the floor, lined in soft purple felt. Shae had arranged her hair artfully in a delicate silver net winking with dark purple gemstones. Tyrion had never seen her look more lovely, yet she wore sorrow on those long satin sleeves. "Lady Sansa," he told her, "you shall be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight." - tyrion viii

AFOC—

outfit thirteen:

“This morning her eye was caught by a parti-colored gown of Tully red and blue, lined with vair. Gretchel helped her slide her arms into the belled sleeves and laced her back, then brushed and pinned her hair. Alayne had darkened it again last night before she went to bed.” - alayne

“Alayne looked down at her dress, the deep blue and rich dark red of Riverrun. "Is it too—“ - alayne i

outfit fourteen:

“The dress she picked was lambswool, dark brown and simply cut, with leaves and vines embroidered around the bodice, sleeves, and hem in golden thread. It was modest and becoming, though scarce richer than something a serving girl might wear. Petyr had given her all of Lady Lysa's jewels as well, and she tried on several necklaces, but they all seemed ostentatious. In the end she chose a simple velvet ribbon in autumn gold.” - alayne i

outfit fifteen:

“Alayne was already wearing woolen hose beneath her skirts, over a double layer of smallclothes. Now she donned a lambswool overtunic and a hooded fur cloak, fastening it with an enameled mockingbird that had been a gift from Petyr. There was a scarf as well, and a pair of leather gloves lined with fur to match her riding boots.” - alayne ii

outfit sixteen:

“It would be cold, she knew, though the Eyrie's towers encircled the garden and protected it from the worst of the mountain winds. She donned silken smallclothes and a linen shift, and over that a warm dress of blue lambswool. Two pairs of hose for her legs, boots that laced up to her knees, heavy leather gloves, and finally a hooded cloak of soft white fox fur.” - alayne vii

divider by @iwonbin

[helplesslyblue77]

You Can't Deny(That Beast Inside)

Genre: Smut, minors dni

Pairing: Hybrid!Felix x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Hybrid!Felix is a golden retriever, Friends to Lovers, heat - Freeform, Breeding Kink, Mentions of pups and all the usual stuff that comes(haha get it lol) with a hybrid au, Dirty Talk, hints of Sub!Felix but its mostly Dom!Felix. He gets a little posessive and crazy but we love it

Notes:

bro i love hybrid au's. they weren't something id ever seen out of the kpop fandom, and ive been in a LOT of fandoms. i wonder why thier so specific to kpop

Felix, your best friend of ten years, your lovable Golden Retriever Hybrid who always smiles and makes time for you no matter what, your crush of so many years is avoiding you. It hurts your heart to admit it but it has to be true.

It started three days ago, when you texted him, asking him to come over for your weekly movie night. You received this in response:

“I'm sorry, I can't make it this week.”

He had never, ever skipped out on your weekly movie night.

You had asked if he was ok, and he had told you he was fine, just a little sick. 

“Can I come over to help?”

You'd texted and promptly been shut down, rather harshly in your opinion. Fine, whatever. 

Ok, so maybe Felix was sick and just didn't want to get you sick as well. You believed that until you saw him at the grocery store, perfectly fine. You marched over to him, intent on giving him a piece of your mind, but to your surprise, he had practically run away from you. Without so much as a greeting. 

So you called Chan. 

“Is Felix avoiding me?”

He coughed and stuttered out. “N-no of course not, why would you think that?”

Chan was a horrible liar. 

“He ran away from me at the grocery store, and he won't answer my texts or calls.”

“He's just sick. It's not too bad, he just doesn't want to get you sick.”

You frowned, “If it's that bad, I should go over there—”

Chan interrupted you.

“No wait, he told us not to let you—”

“WHAT?”

“Wait name don't—”

That infuriated you beyond belief, so he was avoiding you huh?

You hung up, intent on giving him a piece of your mind. 

Too bad for him, you knew his address. So you collected yourself and stormed over there, opening the door with the spare key hidden under the rocks by the porch. The house was silent when you entered, storming down the dark hallway you slammed on the lights, shouting at the top of your lungs. 

“LEE FELIX.”

⊛⊛⊛

Felix felt bad about ignoring you, every minute apart from you tore at his heart, and your sad face as he had all but run away from you at the grocery store haunted him every moment.

But it was for the best. He couldn't be around you when his heat was approaching, it wasn't safe for you. He felt tense as if any minute he could jump on you and take you, with or without your permission and he would rather die than ever mess up your friendship, even if he wanted you, had wanted you for years now. 

Felix had resigned himself to being permanently stuck in the friend zone years ago, and yet he still hoped that one day, you would reciprocate his deep feelings for you, but he knew it was just wishful thinking. 

It had started years ago, these urges, and every heat since then Felix had barred alone, accompanied by only thoughts of you. It was dangerous to be near you when he was so close to his heat, your scent tempted him constantly, the pretty sundresses you wore exposed the crotch of your panties when you bent down, and Felix had to do his best not to take you over the kitchen table, in front of all of his friends.

Even if he knew they would enjoy it(Probably a little too much for their own good.)his sense of possessiveness couldn't let the other see you like that.

But it had been worse lately. You had been babysitting your younger cousin, a baby of only two and Felix had watched in agony as you practically glowed with the baby. He couldn’t help imagining the child was yours and the hybrid side of him longed to put his pups into you.

He knew you would look so good all swollen with his pups, and that was when Felix realized his heat was approaching and he needed to get away from you before he did something potentially disastrous. So he had locked himself in his room, in constant agony and accompanied only by his vivid fantasies of you.

So when he heard your pretty voice, shouting his name at first he thought it was just his fantasies. 

But the longer he listened, the more wrong it sounded. First of all, the tone was all wrong, you sounded furious and it was acconpanied by a loud slamming sound.

And then he smelled you, you're scent too fresh to belong to the small heap of your clothes he had been desperately sniffing. And then his kitchen door slammed and Felix realized you were here. In his house. Less than a wall was separating the two of you. Felix almost came right then and there, your scent overwhelming him as he humped desperately into the mattress, still fully clothed. 

You were stomping around his house, shouting his name and Felix hurriedly pulled himself out of his fantasies and bit his hand so hard it started to bleed.

The sharp burst of pain cleared his hand for a moment and he hurriedly stood up, trying and failing to hide the bulge in his pants, before giving up and taking a deep breath, exiting his bedroom.

You were furious, he could tell as you laid eyes on him, marching right up and planting a finger in his chest. Felix held his breath desperately trying not to lose it as you yelled at him. 

“Lee Felix, how dare you ignore me, your not sick—”

You were still yelling but all Felix could focus on was your pretty face, you looked so radiant when you were mad, and Felix would gladly get on his knees and worship you, let you step on his hard cock with your pretty feet or maybe you would slap him, and call him a pervert. He could be your good boy, he could do that. Or if you wanted he could beg you to sit on his face, he would gladly suffocate in your pussy.

That would feel like heaven.

Or maybe if he begged for it enough you would let him fill your pussy with cum, pumping his pups into you until you were nice and round and full, and—

“Felix! Are you even listening to me?”

Felix could help it, he let out a whimper. You frowned, finally taking in his flushed cheeks, his sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, his wrinkled clothes and most telling of all, the large bulge tenting the front of his gray sweatpants. Your eyes widened, and you stepped back hurriedly. Felix followed you, trying to be as close as possible to you, even if he knew he couldn't have you. You frowned, your back hitting the wall, and parted your pretty lips, asking him a question. 

“Felix? Are you in Heat?”

Felix pressed against you, and buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent in large gulps, trying his best to memorize it before you ran out of the house in disgust.

You shivered a little and Felix groaned as he smelt the sweet smell of arousal emanating from between your thighs. The strings holding his sanity were thin, too close to snapping as you thrashed against him, rubbing your thighs together. You shuddered and ground out a question. 

“Felix? Do you need help? I can get someone—”

“No…”

He moaned out, his voice rough and deep and you whimpered. “Only want you, please…”

His tale swished back and forth, the soft yellow fur catching on your leg and you moaned as his pretty hands gripped your thighs desperately. “You…want me?”

The question came out haltingly, your brain muddled and overcome with arousal. 

Felix nodded against your neck. “Only wanted you, always. I love you.”

You gasped at the admission, your heart full, even as your empty pussy pulsed.

Felix whined against you, the scent of arousal driving him nearly insane. He was about to tell you to leave, you needed to leave before he lost it and fucked you against the wall, but then you grabbed him by the collar, dragging him into his room and shoving him onto the bed. 

“I love you too, Felix.”

He whimpered as you pulled off your shirt and skirt, your panties and bra hitting the floor. He made quick work of his clothes, and you stared greedily at his cock, gulping. 

You realized that Hybrids had, um, bigger dicks than humans, but you had never realized how truly big he was. Just the sight of it made your mouth water desperately, and another time you would have loved to have your mouth on it but right now, you just wanted it inside you, spearing your insides and rendering you nearly dumb.

You could tell Felix wanted the same, even as he waited patiently for you, you could see his impatience in how his hands gripped the sheets, ripping holes and he desperately held himself back, trying to not look too desperate. His tail was wagging back and forth, at an embarrassing rate and all he could see was you. He couldn't believe this was even happening.

After years and years of deserted hopes and dreams of you, he tried to hold on to as he woke to a cold empty bed, you were finally his, not Chans, not Jisung's, his mate.

Felix could smell your arousal scenting the air, and the sight of your naked body was just too much for him. He was about two seconds from just jumping on you and taking you against the floor but thankfully, you ceased his torture and moved on top of him gracefully, lining your entrance up with his tip. 

You were tempted to tease him, he looked too cute with that desperate look in his eyes, his cheeks flushed and his chest heaving up and down with the effort of restraining himself, but you didn't know if you would last, your arousal driving you nearly insane with want. So you spared him, easing down slowly on his cock, taking him one inch at a time. 

He was big, and the stretch was slightly painful but the pain only served to turn you on more, and when you looked down, and saw that only half of him was inside of you, you felt yourself tighten around him. Felix knotted his hands tighter in the blankets, letting you take your time. You felt so good, so tight, the hot walls of your pussy fluttering around him and your pretty moans filling the air.

Felix still half believed this was a dream. 

It took a lot of time, but finally, he was fully inside of you. You felt stuffed, unbelievably full as he pulsed inside of you, and you nearly came there and then as you looked down, noticing the bulge denting your stomach.

Felix was almost gone by now, his hybrid side so close to taking over and all he could think about was fucking you full of his pups, filling his precious mate up completely, and fucking you until you were moaning and screaming dumbly on his cock. 

Before he was completely gone, he made sure to grip your face, turning your eyes to his own. 

“Can I let go?” 

You shuddered, and leaned in, kissing him gently. “Yes, Felix. I'm yours.”

And with those words he was gone.

He lunged forward, gripping you close to him and he pounded your pussy desperately, moans and whimpers filling the air and mixing with your own. He set a ruthless pace, his thick cock felt like it was rearranging your internal organs with each thrust and you didn't think you would ever be able to go back. He had quite literally ruined you for another man. 

“Your mine, m-my mate. The others cant have you.”

At the mention of the others, you almost stopped him, but his words were slurred and desperate, and his possessive nature turned you on. You could almost feel your thoughts slipping away like he was fucking them out of you. 

“Oh Felix, y-yes I'm y-yours…” you interrupted yourself with a loud moan as Felix picked up his thrusts, humping into you with wild abandon. 

This desperate, possessive side of your Felix, who was always sunshine and smiles was new to you. It turned you on beyond belief. You could feel your high coming, feel the tense knot in your groin as Felix fucked you closer and closer to completion. You could feel his thrusts stutter as well.

You tried to warn him. “Felix, ‘m c-coming!”

He mumbled out more nonsense, interspersed with desperate moans as he sucked possessive hickeys into your neck. 

“Make sure the o-others know your mine…fill you up with my c-cum, breed my pretty mate full of my pups…”

His hand makes its way to your clit and you scream, fingernails leaving large scratches on his back. 

His thrusts turn sloppy and he ruts into you desperately, his moans mixing with yours. 

“So pretty, always been so p-pretty, and n-now you're mine.”

You whimper, gripping his shoulders tightly. Your high crashes over you, and you clench around Felix's cock, he stutters, shoving inside you one more time, and moans as he cums. You feel his knot swell inside you, locking his cock inside you as he cums and the extra stretch makes you orgasm a second time, clenching around Felix as he lets out an especially raspy grunt. 

He seems to cum and cum, his hand making its way down to your clit, and he rubs circles into it, prolonging your orgasm. You pull him down, sealing your lips as his cum pumps into your stomach. The kiss is all teeth and tongue and as your orgasm finally dies down, Felix’s still hard cock lodged in your stomach you feel beyond exhausted. Felix collapses on top of you, kissing your neck.

He hugs you fondly, his voice almost shy as he asks you, “Be my girlfriend?”

You giggle a little, how is this the same man who fucked you ruthlessly into the bed and still has his cock lodged inside you. You can tell he's pouting against your neck so you put him out of his misery, wrapping your arms around his naked back. “Oh course Felix.”

His cock is still hard inside of you, and you can feel yourself clench around him. He sounds almost cocky as he teases you. “Are you ready for more, Baby?” 

You slap his back. “How long do heats usually last?”

He smirks, pulling away as his hands and planting a chaste kiss on your lips. 

You wiggle, clenching around him. 

“About a week.”

You moan as he flips you around, entering you again from the back even as his cum drips down your thighs, wetting the bed below you. You're in for a long week. 

originally posted on ao3 on 2023-06-04

reposted on ao3 on 2023-06-08

[prettyboykatsuki]

solanum dulcamara | r. itoshi

★ tags ; aged-up characters (rin and reader are in their 20's), age-gap (reader is older but there's no specifics), sub!itoshi rin, fem + afab!dom!reader, dacryphilia, established relationships and dom/sub dynamics, edging, overstimulation, subspace (rin falls head first), mommy kink, praise, teasing (reader is a bit mean), petnames for rin (spoiled little boy, sweet boy, good boy, sweetie etc.), riding, unprotected sex, face-sitting, cum-eating aftercare, 18+

★ wc ; 5.7k (frowns)

★ a/n ; ive done something bad to my brain </3 he is so baby boy.... i've gone and made myself sick just thinking about it.

i just want to clarify that this version of rin is only really accessible thru a lot of established trust and persistence. reader is incredibly attentive to him and they have a very establish bond both romantically and in a d/s dynamic. im not super confident abt his characterization but i tried to still make it feel like Him.

★ synopsis ; rin is so pretty when he cries.

The T.V. is on in the background. It's the interview you filmed a month ago, per the request of your boyfriends P.R.

"Another question from our viewers, what's your usual type in men?"

"Ah, is that okay to ask?" You reply sheepish. The interviewer waves his hand in dismissal of your concern.

"Asking when I'm already taken, so cruel. Mm, I like men who cry easily."

"Ehh? You're going to make your boyfriend sad!"

"It's fine, it's fine. He's special so it's okay."

Before Rin can watch anymore, you pick the remote up and click it off. You've just come out of a shower, towel hanging off the back of your neck. Water drips down your skin despite having dried off. The vague scent of fruit hits him as he blinks back at you. You bend forward in front of him.

"Hi." You greet, smiling. Your eyes have a particular shine to them that sends a signal of warning through RIn's body. It's been there since before you started dating. It's persisted all throughout your relationship. He never gets used to it.

He stares back at you "Hi."

You cock your head then laugh. 

"Why'd you turn the T.V. off?" He asks. You shrug, sitting next to him with your feet up on the coffee table, stretching slightly.

"Hearing my own voice feels weird."

You scrunch your nose in displeasure. When Rin sees you like this - cozy and comfortable, he can't help but be extra conscious of the air you seem to hold. Innocent isn't the right word. Simplistic might be better. There's nothing malicious about you, usually.

Even knowing that, heat curls into his body. The hairs stand on his neck. He knows almost intuitively what's coming.

"Aw, did you wanna watch my interview, Rinnie? How sweet."

He scowls at the name of endearment, then lies through his teeth.

"No." He says simply. You coo under your breath like you would a misbehaving cat. Before he can move away, your hand reaches the opposite side of his face, fingers trailing his jaw until he faces towards you.

"Liar." You say, and it's there again and Rin can feel it. It takes effort not to turn away. Not to stand to his feet and go run laps.

Rin knows, objectively, he's so much faster than you. But, some part of him is convinced he could never outrun you. You'd pin him down somehow, he's sure of it. Swift and easy. You'd wait till he was tired out and strike after—smile down at him in satisfaction towards the end.

That's just how you are. Rin doesn't dislike it.

Your fingers splay to cup his face, your thumb rubbing against his lower lip. Familiar gestures and touches don't ease his nerves. You admire him openly. Rin feels like the Earth is going to swallow him whole. He's not unused to being fawned at. He got confessed to all the time in high school but it never caught his interest.

Dating seemed pointless. Lukewarm. The first time Rin told this to you, instead of a hurt reaction like he'd gotten from other girls interested in him, you laughed. Quietly to yourself, remaining impassive.

Amused. A mirth to your eyes. Like you've stumbled upon a puzzle yet to solve. A predator with interesting prey.

("Being lukewarm is better than freezing." )

Itoshi Rin thinks you are a strange, strange person. He thinks you have strange tastes. He thinks you are strange company and that your smile is too disarming. He thinks it's strange that everyone is convinced you're nice and well-meaning when he knows you are. You are but you're not.

You are nice. Kind is a better word. Warm and forgiving and tender. You're like that even like this, when being around you feels like being thrown into the snakes den. If Rin doesn't pay attention, he's sure he'll get eaten completely.

But he lowers his guard anyway. Being devoured and being desired are the same sensation, he finds.

"Rin," You offer, an inch away from kissing him. He swallows a thick sensation in the back of his throat. He feels jumpy. "Did I make you sad, hm?"

'No." He insists.

"Really?" You grin at him. You smell sweet "But it's true, you know? I like when men cry in front of me."

A shiver wracks through him.

"Don't talk about other men in front of me." He says lamely. It's all he can say. You laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry. Then what should I say instead?" You look thoughtful as you kiss him. Rin lets you. He trusts you enough to let you kiss his face all over in this overly doting way "Rin, when was the last time you cried?"

"I don't remember." He says. It's a lie. Probably after Sae came back, he should answer.

"Liar. Bad boy, you shouldn't lie to your girlfriend. Are you embarrassed about crying?"

"No."

"Lie again, and I'll punish you." You tsk, then kiss him slow. On the lips this time. In that deep mesmerizing way that makes the insides of Rin's stomach feel like honey over flame. He gets jealous thinking about where you learned it all from. He knows your older and more experienced and that you love him despite all that, but he's jealous anyways.

If you could hear it, you'd call Rin spoiled with that same amusement you always regard him with.

"Rin," There's a little more urgency in your voice this time. It satisifes a part of Rin he doesn't know intimately. He didn't think it was there before he met you "I want to make you cry."

"Why?"

"I like seeing you like that." You tell him honestly  "I like it so much when you look like that. Of course I feel bad too, but."

"Why the hell would you like that?" He asks, voice raspy with less anger than he would hope for. You invite yourself into his lap. Rin doesn't stop you. Your arms around his neck feel like a choker but there's something so comforting about the feeling of being suffocated.

You let your hands cup the nape of his neck, the other hand brushing his skin. Knuckles along his cheek with nothing but affection. You smile.

"When you look helpless and needy like that, I want you to depend on me." You say sweetly, so saccharine it makes Rin nauseous. "When you look sad and lonely, I want to comfort you so I can keep you all to myself."

"...Were you like this with your other boyfriends?"

"Mm, would you be sad if I said yes? But I didn't like any of them, y'know? They just came onto me because they liked being bullied."

He gives you a look of displeasure that makes you laugh.

"I only like you," You assure, your tone shifting again. Still familiar. The kind, gentle version of you seeping in through the cracks "I love you most of all. Only you."

"Stop that." He tucks his chin because he can't look up at you. You grin widely "You're weird."

You pull him towards you, hugging him tight.

"My Rin is the best in the world, hm?"

He thinks you're bad for him, in some ways. Good in more ways too. This kind of feeling, he isn't sure where it falls on the scale. It feels good, at least. Makes his head feel heavy with something even though all of his hairs stand on end. There's resistance before there's desire to succumb.

"Weird." He mutters, unable to stop himself from slipping into you.

"I wanna make you cry so I can wipe your tears off your face. I'll bet you're so pretty."

"You say stuff  like that so easily it scares me."

"Don't be scared. It's all because I love you, okay? I love you sooo much."

He clicks his teeth "You're pushing it."

"Because I know you'll forgive me. Now, take off your clothes and tell me your colors."

"Red for stop, green for go, yellow for slow down." Rin says on automatic before blushing.

"There you go." You reply, pleased with yourself.

Ultimately, Rin listens. You're right in your assessment. He'll always forgive you no matter the circumstance. Despite himself and all the warnings - he'll listen to you obediently. You help Rin take off his clothes. Manicured fingers drag up the sides of his body, along the anterior muscles of his abdomen. 

His shirt comes first. When it's off , you stare at him long and hard. Tilting his head back, you press a kiss to his Adam's apple before your fingers tug on his nipples. He lets out a sharp noise that makes you hum against his skin, throaty and pleased. He can feel your teeth on his neck and the warmth of your cunt against his jeans even through all the thick layers of fabric.

"They're always so sensitive," You say, running your thumb over them "Such a pretty color."

"Stop talking." He hisses, throwing his head back. You giggle at him.

His cock twitches at the sharp sensation. You latch yourself to the column of his throat - a familiar bruising throb making his whole body ache. Kissing and licking and biting every visible inch of his body while your free hand plays with his chest.

The roles should be reversed here, he's sure, but he can't remember a time they ever were. At least properly, with Rin initiating of his own volition. Not just being permitted by you to do so, but actually doing it all on his own.

He stifles a groan, hand cupped over his mouth as you pleasure his body. You play him like a well-tuned machine. A practiced handler for all of his more delicate parts and functions.

The blood rushing to his cock makes him light headed. The motions are  well-practiced ones. You know just the right way to tease the hardened buds under the pads of your fingers, how to pinch with the tips of your nails until it's unbearable . The soft drags of your fingers, nails scratching the skin until it's red and raised. He's always been pale. White, milky skin that blooms into different shades of bruise. Colors you like, anyway.

You make a show of undoing his belt buckle. The noise is so audible, the soft clack of metal echoes as it gets undone. Unzipping his jeans, you cup your palm around his semi-hard cock and squeeze tight like you're holding his hand. He shudders, only saved by the thin material of his boxers.

You let your thumb trace under the head, still through the black cotton. You press it into the sticky tip, rubbing small circles with a gleeful giggle. He huffs. Making the mistake of looking at you directly sends him into a frenzy. Your expression is vulgar when you peer at him - lips tucked between your teeth and eyes full of hot white desire. Rin can feel how much you want this. How much you want him. You express it openly.

(He wants it just as bad. Maybe worse.)

You hook your finger into the edge of his boxers, peeking inside.

"Your cock is so pretty," Your sincerity sends electricity through his spine. He chokes "So cute."

"Don't talk about it like that."

"It's cute to me though?" You say, a horrifyingly genuine assessment as you push the fabric down enough to sit under his balls - leaving him exposed and stood up to attention. You wrap a hand around the shaft, leaning in to bite his earlobe "It's cute when it gets red like that. Your ears get red like that too."

Rin watches you with his eyes blown wide as you lift your fingers to your mouth, dragging your tongue along the middle and ring. You fuck them into your mouth slowly, until saliva drips down on them and the act is so salacious he thinks his heart is going to give. When they're nice and wet, you wrap them around the base. 

The  sensation makes his body clench. A suddenly warm and slick feeling surrounds him. You're good with your hands. Too good, actually. The exact pressure and speed without having to try - this isn't the first time you've touched Rin like this so he knows it all too well.

But there's something about this time that makes it different. You're slower as you work your palm against his cock, pushing the curve up against his tip and circling it without touching it long enough. He stares down at you as you do it. Your other hand fondles his balls, thumb teasing the seam as you squeeze them.

"Did you touch yourself without me, Rin?"

"No," He admits. This time it's not a lie. You smile.

"What a good boy."

Fuck. He shivers.

"My good boy. My Rin, all mine forever right?" You say, not expecting him to respond. But it's not babble, not pointless chatter. It's what he wants to hear.

Possession. Yes, he thinks. All yours forever.

Of course he doesn't say it. Not there yet, and unsure if he ever will be but it feels good to hear anyway. Rin has always been humiliated by his own desire. Before you, he thinks he did a good job of keeping it a secret. He didn't explore his sexuality in a way that was meaningful for good reason, avoiding it all together.

You changed that. He wanted you. And you wanted him, always, with such intensity that Rin found it hard to stop thinking about. Rin has always been weak to you.

And you're like this. Straightforward and open and so attractive it makes him feel like he's going to sink. To be wanted in this way that wraps him up in reassurance, to be taken care of. You want all of him. Even his tears. Even though he resists because it’s not something he knows how to cope with even now. 

Would anyone dislike that if they got it as easily as he does?

You keep doing the same hand motions, stroking his cock at this slow pace that drives him up a wall. His chest heaves as you switch the pace. Fast, fast, slow. Over and over until he's at the edge. His whole body tenses, though his hands remained tucked at his sides.

Then you stop. Completely. Leaving your hands up, you peek at him through your lashes as he lets out a ragged breath. A look of irritation on his expression, quickly washed out by fear at the amusement on your face.

"Cry for me, baby." You say satisfied with yourself, thumb pressing into his slit "I'll let you cum after."

"You're," He swears under his breath as you start again, cock sensitive now "You're..."

"I'm what, baby? I'm mean? Weird?"

He shivers as you lean forward, hugging your arm around his shoulders, hand reaching down to drag your nails lightly up his spine. The sensations all feel mixed together and with your body all pressed to him, he can feel every outline of you. Every curve. The scent of you tickles the back of his throat again. You wrap around him like a vine, curled around his wrists and ankles and throat. Trapped, suspended by the presence of you.

He wants to cum, but the first time you deny it like this isn't so bad.

"Look at you holding it in so well," You start, though Rin can feel how much more is at the end of your sentence "Can you keep touching yourself for me, then? Slow like this."

Rin nods, though he isn't sure there's much of a choice. You kiss him in reward, standing back up on your feet. He watches you as you turn around. You pull your pants down the curve of your ass, leaving a pair of panties plainly in view and Rin feels his dick twitch in his hands. Fuck. You're so wet it's dripping down your leg. Knowing he did that to you is enough to make him groan.

Plus your bare skin, soft and smooth from being showered and lotioned is too much for him to try and endure.

You repeat the action with your shirt, but there's nothing underneath. When you're almost naked, you make a show of bending over to take your panties off. There's a noise as the thin cotton unsticks from your soaked cunt, material roll down your legs. It's just enough to get an eyeful of your pussy.

Soft and hot and so fucking wet. He feels restless. His hand isn't doing the job. He wants to be inside. Closer to you. You're all naked when you turn around and Rin is still mostly clothed. You crawl in his lap and move his hands away when you're straddling him again.

Cruel and unrelenting, you grab his cock again but this time you pull it against you. Grind yourself against his shaft, rubbing his tip against your clit deliberately. The sensation is making him bite down on his cheek hard enough that he might bleed. Soaking pussy, sticky and welcoming.

"You're trying so hard today," You say, half-way between sincere and condescending. His head is starting to get mushy, like his tongue doesn't fit in his mouth. "You don't have too, yknow?"

"What a-are you…?"

It's too fucking much. Too many senses stimulated. Too many feelings pouring out of him as he listens to you talk.

You're throbbing. He can feel you as you slide his cock between your folds with your hands, a slow and controlled pace that sends him teetering over the edge with each pass. It's so slick that it's noisy, and you have to be careful not to slip. Your fingers are covered in arousal just like his cock—so fucking messy, and it's dripping down his shaft in beads. It's wearing down his will. The one he's currently using to maintain his pride.

For Rin, loss always has to come at ultimate defeat. He hates things that are half-assed. Neck in neck, close to winning but not quite. That kind of thing is too frustrating. It has to be all encompassing. Rin wants to give in only when he can longer bear the weight of losing. Loss so utterly undeniable he can do nothing but be pinned underneath. 

When you tell Rin he's trying too hard, the condescension is not for nothing. Because you know just as well as he does that you can take him apart easily. Crushing defeat through actions and patience. That's been your M.O. from the start. This is you giving him lee way. It's not like you'll make fun of him if he gives in. 

Because you are sweet and you are kind and if Rin had even an ounce less of shame - you'd spoil him without thinking twice. He's only managed to do it once before and it was probably the best he's ever felt. But he can't default to it. Despite how much he wants too, he can’t just let go. Doing this much is complicated. Listening is complicated and his brain is so full of self-doubt he’s starting to shake. 

But then, there’s you. The sound of your voice that makes it all stop. 

"Can't just let go, can you sweetie?" And Rin trembles at the slight edge, just barely there "I think it's cute, though. You're so cute, aren't you, Rin?"

"I'm not—"

"I mean, look at how you're tensing your muscles trying not to fuck up into me, huh? Guess you're not any different from other guys.  When you see somethin' soft and wet for you to fuck you lose all your common sense."

He chokes on a moan so loud he can't believe it's coming from him.

"Shouldn't resist it so hard. You can be my spoiled little boy. That's what Rin likes best, right?"

Normally, Rin admires your smooth talk. He doesn't have it in him to mimic it, sentences too awkward and too clumsy to sound good. You talk to him like this like it's so easy. Conversational. Rin doesn't hate it about you, but right now it's the worst thing he could hear.

He's slipping into it slowly. Like he's hanging onto the edge of a cliff and you're pulling his fingers off one-by-one. Your pussy is so wet and he's so fucking hard. Nothing makes any sense anymore. He can’t tell left from right and he wants to run away. But he can’t. He doesn’t want to stop but he wants to run away. 

"You're drooling," You coo, free hand wiping the corner of his mouth. He burns with embarrassment "How sweet."

He can feel himself, the edge again - this time so close he can practically taste it. And the second the knot gets close to being untied, you stop all over again. Rin curses so loud he practically yells, his whole body lurching forward to hump into something before you push him all the way back down.

Officially overstimulated, he looks up at you desperately. You look so absolutely delighted he almost wants to shove you away.

"There it is. Look at you, baby, Just a little more."

He doesn't know how long he can keep up. This part of this is a trust fall. Rin could probably cry right now. Being pushed to this extent, till his head and his body are all out of sorts. Till there's too many thoughts jumbled up and tangled to fight. It makes Rin want to cry. It makes him want to seethe. To curl into himself and abandon everything. 

He’s scared, admittedly. But there’s you, again. And so he breathes and watches you and doesn’t want to stop. 

You keep your pace, rubbing his cock relentlessly against your pussy. So much of the same thing, but you're focused on nothing but him. Even when it feels good for you, when you moan or sigh, your eyes are glued to watching. Watching his cock twitch erratically, little dribbles of precum spilling out but never being able to come through completely. That you swipe up with your fingers and add to the mess you're making.

It'd feel so good right now. You're so wet, fuck — you might even push him out if he puts it in. Rin wants and wants and wants. The magnitude of it is truly, truly terrifying.

But you take him through it slowly. Then the words fall out of your lips slowly - gently, almost a secret.

"Mommy's pretty boy," You rasp, so low that it's barely there but it makes the entire world stop at once. He shudders, his whole body trembles. He can feel himself falling completely and the sudden desperation has him clutching your hips. The emotion is so overwhelming. Only you could ever do this to him. You're the only person allowed. A bittersweetness to all of it that makes Rin yield despite his efforts.  "My sweet boy."

The praise makes him feel like he's melting. Mommy makes it okay. He doesn't know who he is currently. It's not his job too. He just looks up at you and hopes that everything carries over. 

You cup your hands on his face, sticky and messy and look up at him. He stares at you as you smile, eyes blown wide and floaty. 

"There you are," You say, so sweet Rin wants to sink "Mommy's here. 's okay."

He's lost himself in it completely. He's not drowning, but he's submerged in water with no room to look for light. Just you, only you.

"Hi," He says, staring at you. Relief fills him "I love you."

You smile, kissing his forehead "I love you more, Rinnie. It's oka—oh. Oh, there it is."

He blinks and suddenly his visions blurred. Then there's tears, though it's not a sob. They're hot and wet and make his eyes sting. You wipe them with the driest part of your hand.

"You're so pretty when you cry." You tell him. He's needy. He leans against your shoulder, mumbling.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, baby. Lemme see. C'mere?"

He listens, lets you stare at him as hot wet tears roll down his face. He's sure when he's more cognizant he'll be ashamed. Right now he doesn't care.

"Fuck, that's it," You lean forward, licking a stripe up the side of his cheek that sends shivers up his spine, swallowing his tears "So, so pretty. You did well. What should I give you, hm?"

"Inside," He rasps, voice shot completely as he holds your hips "Please."

"Be more specific, my love."

"Please let me cum inside." He can hear his own voice echo in the back of his head, the words coming out so slurred.

"Good boy," You purr. He shakes. Like you read his mind, you pet the back of his hair soothing him "You can hug me, sweetheart. I don't mind."

So he does. Picks his arms up and wraps them around your bare middle and holds you close. He buries his face into your neck, cheek pressed against your shoulder. You pat his head, scratching your nails against his scalp. He sits still like that for a minute, nudging his nose across your skin, leaning you back so he can get a mouth around your tits.

He sucks gently, drunk off of it. You laugh airily, repositioning slightly (carefully) so he doesn't have to pull away. He can feel the head of his cock against your entrance and he moans. 

He can't help but moan as soon as you even get close. The sensation is so unreal. So dripping wet that it's hard for you to get it in completely, slippery silken walls that make it hard for him to push in. When he feels the tip enter, he groans. His whole body gives like a rope on it’s last thread, teeth gritted as he ruts his hips to fuck into you. It doesn't even take any effort to push. You sink down on it slowly, soothing him and telling him to hold it until he bottoms out.

He does, impatiently. He waits until he's all the way at the bottom before looking up at you again. 

"Good boy. Easy does it. It'll feel better to cum since you're all the way inside, right? I can do whatever you want, but if you cum before me - you'll have to make up for it. Okay? Still with me?"

He nods.

"And your color?"

"'s green."

"Good job. That's it, baby. How do you want it?"

"Can I..?"

"You wanna fuck me?"

He nods, hazed. You smile at him.

"To your heart's content. Go ahead. Hold me here, 'kay?"

Rin listens, no longer trying to fight off the urge to listen. He holds you by your hips, latching his mouth to your chest again before fucking into you slow. Your pussy is a vice grip on his cock, and he's so overstimulated as is - he knows he doesn't have much of a will to hold it in. He tries though, quivering with each thrust as he holds you up in his arms.

You mumble to him, the praise is short but sweet and each word makes his brain feels like it's gonna melt out of his ears. He feels good, a pleasant buzzing numbness all over his body that has him reeling. You work as an anchor for him, stroking and petting and kissing him as he works himself into a frenzy.

He can barely get the words out of his mouth as he feels the pressure inside of him start to build. The knot coiled so tightly is unraveling quicker than he can piece it back together. He can't hold it, he can't, he can't, he can't. His thrusts are erratic, too sloppy. Chasing his own high as he fucks into you hard and fast.

"Gonna cum for me? Mommy's sweet boy, gonna fill me up all nice?"

He croaks out the words "Y-yeah. Yeah, fuck."

"There you go. That's it."

Rin cums so hard he sees white, specks like stars in his vision. The sensation borders unbearable. It's such an intense wave of emotion he can't do anything but groan, gripping you hard and bottoming out completely before painting your insides stark white. Thick, hot spurts of cum that he keeps fucking into, overstimulating himself. It just feels so good. So good and so perfect and his mouth is agape - gasping for air as his body goes limp. You kiss him as it happens, swallowing the moans out of his mouth with a delighted smile.

He's ragged by the time it's all out, more coming in a second wave with less intensity. The wave of euphoria that washes over him doesn't bring him back down like he thought it would. He still looks at you, head blank as you smile down at him. You kiss his hairline.

"You with me? Think I should call it quits tonight."

"No. Want you to—you can sit, 'm fine."

It's like you can read his mind.

"You want me to sit on your face even though you just came in me? Think you're up for that?"

"'s fine."  He says one more time, too embarrassed to do anything more. Maybe you're feeling merciful because you don't make him say please. Just laugh, sliding his soft cock out of you slowly.

"Think you're gonna be okay? Wanna lay down?"

"I can sit on the floor. If it's okay."

He can feel how small his voice sounds, a feeling of shame overwhelming him. You rub his cheek affectionately.

"If you say so. Don't need to do anything but stick your tongue out and listen, but my sweet boy is good at listening, isn't he?"

He flushes. "Hn."

You give him a delighted smile, a proud one that makes him reel. Before he can pull away, you tell him to get down on the floor. He listens, back against it with his head laid back on the cushions. He can see his cum starting to drip out of you as you stand, his heart hammering in your ears.

The couch creak under the weight of your knees as you hover yourself over Rin's face. You thread your fingers through his hair and he sticks his tongue out without thinking twice. He can feel all the mess, your cum and his in his mouth - bitter and tangy as he lets his hand grip on your hips. Your clit is hard to attention as you grind against his tongue. He feels good as you groan with pleasure over him.

"I'm so worked up ‘cause of you. My pretty boy," You praise, before rocking your hips against his face. The feeling of you is suffocating, your thighs locked around his head. He can only breathe in the warm air surrounding you. You taste so fucking good. His nose is bumped against your pelvis as you tug harder and start an easy rhythm.

You rut back and forth and Rin suctions to give you a little more friction. You praise him for it.

"Fuck, Rin. I'm gonna—gonna c-cum."

Rin moans against you in approval and that seems to be enough to set you on edge. You hold hard onto the roots of his hair, your thighs clenching as you cum hard on his face after fucking it. He can feel your walls spasm, pushing the mess into his mouth. He swallows it obediently anyways, content to let you ride out your high until you're no longer able too.

When you sit up, you swipe Rin's lower lip with your thumb with a warm smile, putting your thumb in his mouth.

"Let's go clean up, baby."

__ 

For Rin, the process of aftercare usually tends to be a lot of grounding. A bath, usually, with the two of you talking about nothing in the process. You wash Rin’s hair for him and wash-up together and then eat something. Rin’s spoiled, really, so you usually cook for him when he asks. 

Afterwards, the emotional exhaustion sets in. You retire yourself both to bed with snacks. Rin gets to pick (a thriller movie, you’ve let him have today) and he lays there in a hoodie with his face tucked into your side as you play with his hair. It’s vulnerable. A thing he can only access with you, after all this coaxing and trust. He tries not to think too hard about what this all means. That you have sex like this, and Rin submits to you willingly. He doesn’t want to know what it says about himself. 

It’s hard for him to wrap his head around it entirely. Why it feels so good to leave it all to you. Why being doted on like that is so soothing. Despite all the time it takes to unravel him enough to give in, you always execute flawlessly and Rin is… happy at the end of it. Even though he can only admit that begrudgingly. 

Rin leans into the warmth of your body as you gently stroke his hair. He looks up at you as you scroll on your phone, a silent plea for attention. You glance down and give him a laugh. 

“Hi, my love” 

“What are you looking at?” He asks, masking the petulance in his voice just barely. You giggle. 

“Twitter. People are asking if you cry a lot because of my interview.” 

“You’re such an idiot. Did you even mean that?” He says, leaning up to be closer to you. He headbutts you lightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek right after. 

“Sorta. It was mostly a plot to bully you about it. I am an idiot, and you love me so much about it.” 

“Unfortunately.” He says, rolling his eyes. He can feel the barest smile on his face and goes to look away as he hugs you close to him. You give a stare full of warmth that he wants to shy away from but can’t bring himself too. You press a tender kiss to his head. 

“Mommy loves you so much, yeah? More than anything in the whole wide world.” 

“I told you I was fine earlier. I don’t feel bad or anything.” He says when you use the title. He thinks you’re reassuring him because you’re concerned, but you just shrug. 

“I just wanted to tell you that.” 

He frowns “...I love you too. I guess.” 

You snort. Rin smiles as you turn to face him and hug him close. 

“Thanks for telling me, baby.”

[hannahssimblr]

I get suspended, but it’s not that bad. 

The last time, when I set the toilet paper dispenser on fire, it was a lot more of a traumatising experience than this. Everyone was so concerned about me becoming an arsonist that I needed to spend several hours speaking to a child psychologist about my motivations, which I explained was boredom and a fascination with watching little pieces of one ply toilet paper burn. It was likely the most worrying thing possible that I could have said. Still, through long, tedious conversation and a thousand boring questions and hypothetical scenarios we determined by the end of the week that I am merely troublesome rather than a deliberate menace and threat to the safety of teachers and students.

This is the same personality trait that got me kicked out of the boy scouts at ten. I am a disruptive influence, and the therapist simply recommended more supervision, which I did not receive from my casually neglectful parents. At least I never set a toilet stall on fire again.

This week is more about watching TV and playing my PlayStation. I do not have to go to a psychologist to go to, just the hospital to get a trio of stitches in my head and checked for a concussion, which I don't have, and then I am back, melding to the couch, playing Grand Theft Auto IV until I am jittery and my eyes are so manic I feel like I have to manually blink them. 

My mother is extremely kind to me, which is interesting. She panicked after I arrived at Trisha Bailey’s house to collect Ivy earlier than expected last Tuesday with blood pouring from a wound in my head and promptly fainted on the parquet floor in front of two eight year old girls. She had to leave work early to come and get me, and she barely even complained about it. She’s been treating me like I’m made of glass ever since, while I, in tandem, have been making an effort to play up my injuries and fake headaches as much as possible so that she is forced to make snacks for me when she’s home from work. This is a pretty good reason to develop something like Munchausen’s Syndrome, I think. I’m actually being mothered, though it's most likely that she's worried that my dying or having brain damage would mean she'll have to hire a full time nanny or bring in another au pair from France who'll lift individual diamonds from her tennis bracelet over a period of months like the last one did.

She even brushes my hair back and kisses my forehead at one point, which feels like it is crossing a line, and is so weird that I feel urged to make a joke about it. It pisses her off and she doesn’t come near me again for the rest of the day, but that’s fine. I wanted to be alone with the TV anyway. 

One evening I go to Jen and Michelle’s, who both coo over me until I part my hair to show them my stitches, which they act disgusted by, but still, they make me snacks and coffee and tell me I am brave for standing up to Fitzy. I don’t deny it even if it’s not what I truly believe. 

Evan joins us later and acts less disgusted by the gash in my head. He wants to know about Fitzy, who he thinks is a massive dickhead, and how badly I hurt him back. I exaggerate, but figure it’s okay because he is suspended too. It’s not like anybody will see him and call me a liar. I’ll tell them that the thumbnail scratch on his cheek was intentional and they will all believe me. 

He and I go out onto the seafront and smoke together, far away from Jen, who is supposed to be off them but will beg for one if she smells them, and Michelle, the daughter of a medical doctor who shuns them and judges anyone who doesn’t. 

“I kind of wish I’d seen the fight,” Evan is saying as we stroll along in the drizzle, and the end of his cigarette crackles and glows in the haze of the night, “Just to see Willy’s stupid face when you smacked it.”

“Yeah, I mean… he looked pissed off I guess. I don’t really remember, I was all adrenaline.”

“I’ve never been in a fight.”

“You don’t want to be. It’s horrible. I only did it because-” I break off and shrug, “Well, you know why, I suppose.”

I see him peering at me from the corner of my eye as I look over the bay, “Is she worth it?”

I sigh, “Yeah, sure. I don’t know. I think it’s complicated. I don’t regret it but I don’t know if she’d appreciate it either, like she might say that defending her like that is too intense.”

“Is that because you’re not properly together?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. She should be grateful,” Evan says around a mouthful of smoke, and I don't respond. 

“What’s she like?”

I don’t really know how to answer, “Um, she’s nice, she’s, like, sweet under this cool-girl exterior, and really smart.”

Evan laughs, “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m just asking, you know, since she’s supposedly pretty experienced and all that…I just was curious…”

“Oh,” I scratch my head, careful to avoid my stitches which itch almost constantly, “Are you, like, asking me what sex is like? I dunno, man, stick your finger in your mouth. It’s like that times a million.”

“Oh, c’mon, I’ve done it. Christ sake. I was just wondering if it ever gets better.”

I pause as I try to determine whether he’s really trying to have a heart to heart with me or if I'm just picking him up wrong. Either way it's a bit awkward, and I don’t know what to say other than, “Yeah, man, I mean, I don’t know what your situation is or anything but it gets a lot better,” I flick my cigarette onto the path and immediately start pulling another out of the packet. Not that I usually smoke more than one at a time, it’s just I am hoping my fumbling around will interrupt this conversation. 

It doesn’t. 

“Michelle is pretty shy, you know, during,” He admits, and my face burns. I really do not want to think about them that way. 

“Most girls are shy. We’re still pretty young.”

“Yeah but, I dunno, it bothers me a bit, and then I see guys like you and girls like Alison and I think that you must have it all figured out. Do you know what I mean?”

“We don’t really, we’re all just kind of muddling our way through.”

“Yeah, but you must have- I mean, you always have a girlfriend.”

I’m surprised he even paid that much attention to me, “Yeah, most of the girls I’ve gone out with never wanted to do anything more than kiss.”

His eyebrows vanish under his fringe, “Really?”

“Yeah, they’re mostly not ready for anything else. It’s fine, I’m okay with it because it’s just part of how it goes. I just focus on how lucky I feel when someone does want to… let me.”

“Like Alison.”

“Yeah.”

“I think everything kind of makes sense now,” he smirks, eyes flicking to my head wound, and I’m certain that whatever he is thinking about me now, my motives and my reasoning for fighting my friend in the changing rooms, he is most likely wrong. 

“Look,” I stop walking and wave my cigarette around vaguely, “you guys will figure it out, huh? I don’t know what to tell you about it. She really seems to like you, so,”

“Yeah,” he says glumly, “I like her too, it’s just that I wish some things were better. Like, she’s barely allowed to come out at night and hang out.”

“Yeah, I suppose that's because her parents are strict.”

“Right! Her mam always gets so annoyed about her being out too late, and then it’s a big drama, and Shell wants to talk about how annoyed she is, and I’m like, why does your mam even care about what you do? You know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, I get it. It’d be nice if it were different, but,” I shrug, “You know it’s not for nothing, right? Like, I hate to be the guy that defends someone’s strict parents or whatever, but if they’re not strict on Michelle then they can’t be strict on Jen, and if they’re not strict on Jen, well,” I exhale a lungful of smoke, “You know how it is.”

“It’s annoying though.”

“You’ll have to learn to enjoy Michelle in the light of day, and if you stay together until college then you can do whatever you like.”

“College?” He echoes, pulling a face as though the suggestion of waiting that long is ludicrous and unfathomable, but college doesn’t seem so far away for me. I’m counting down. Fifteen months until we are finished school, I will have one last long, empty summer and then I will leave, I’ll vanish into thin air leaving behind nothing but the shadow of a boy, an imprint on a couch cushion, an unmade bed and a cereal bowl in the sink.

I already have September 2010 circled in bold red marker on a calendar with arrows and asterixis all around it because that's it, freedom. That’s when I will get on a plane and go somewhere far from here and never speak to anybody from this town again. Jen and Ivy and a select few others are the only ones who will know my whereabouts. College, to me, has been aspirational before I was even a teenager.

Evan hasn’t even thought that far ahead. 

“You can probably stick it out until then,” I say flatly, “If you’re in love or whatever.”

“Uh, yeah totally, I think we are. I think we’re good together, so I can probably just learn to deal with it.”

“It's worth it,” I don’t know why it would be hard anyway. Evan is so lucky. If I was in his position and had a girl who loved me like Michelle apparently loves him I don’t think any sacrifice would be too much. I'd be on top of the world. I only get to see her during the day? Wow, how lucky I’d feel just to be able to do just that. Eighteen months until we have the freedom to do whatever we like with our time together? What’s eighteen months? If it was real love with someone then I’d happily wait years. Maybe Evan is just a bit stupid or something. 

I drop a hand onto his shoulder, forgetting that sudden movements shock him, and he leaps about a meter in the air. I clear my throat as he gathers himself again. “You’ll figure it out.” I say.

He wants to go back to Michelle’s house where it’s warm and dry, but I’d rather take a walk by the sea for a while. Several days of being cooped up inside have made me feel all soft and cosy, which Doherty would probably say isn’t a good way to feel. He’d want me to take a bracing dip in the sea or run fifteen kilometres in the driving rain just to feel life pumping through my veins on a day like this. Thinking of his big bald head and angry face prompts me to flick my half smoked cigarette away and leave it smouldering in the cycle path. 

I should stop doing unhealthy things. 

I take out my phone and text Alison. 

Are you around?

I’m at home

Want company?

ok come over

Beginning // Prev // Next

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Im 7 minutes into Volpina but Ive alredy watched the first three seasons so I know about Lila and I know about all the bullshit drama theyre gonna use her for so I just need to get this off my chest as quickly as possible:

The Writers Of Miraculous Ladybug Have No Idea How To Write The Social Dynamics Of Young Teen Girls

Let me tell you a little story of my time in elementary school as a preteen girl. There was this girl, Im calling her C, who was a lot like Lila in the sense that she lied a lot but people still hung out with her and seemed to really like her despite that. Now, unlike how it is with Lila, literally everyone immediately saw through her lies because children arent as stupid as some might believe. Me and my other friends would regularly get together, without C ofc, to shit-talk about her, specifically for being a liar and make fun of her and just generally hate on her behind her back. And yet, whenever she was around they were always going up to her willingly because despite that, they genuinely liked hanging out with her. Why is that? Honestly, I couldnt tell you since I didnt like her that much and had a hard time pretending I liked people when I didnt, so unless my friends or classmates inadvertantly pressured me into being around her, I just kinda avoided her, so I never got to see what she was like under four eyes or even in groups consisting of less than 5 people either.

So yeah, young girls tend to see through another young girls' outrageous lies but are unlikely to call them out as such for a variety of complex reasons, Im sure its different for every girl. Marinette's conflict with Lila shouldnt have been "she has the ability to magically drastically decease everyones intelligence so they believe her obvious lies and Im the only one immune to it but now everyone thinks Im just a jealous bitch even though Im the only one in the right T-T", it shouldve been more like, everyone knew that she was a liar and didnt care too much because shes charismatic and fun to be around and her lies are pretty inconsequential anyway, even by middleschool standards, but Marinette (as Ladybug) starts to figure out how genuinely awful and potentially dangerous she is and is struggling to get her friends away from her because Marinette (as Marinette) cant present them with any reason to stop hanging out with her beyond "she lies a lot", which her classmates dont care enough about to do anything more than just like, avoid her

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Friday

It's a little follow-up to Mistaken Identity au, as per the poll results!

The first week "home" had been...stifling. The man purporting to be Jak's father wouldn't leave him alone, always checking in on him, making sure he wasn't pulling at the IV, asking him questions he just didn't have the answers to. The one upside was that Damas had finally brought Daxter to see him. Of course, it had been right in the middle of Jak's fourth escape attempt, which may have been calculated. But considering Jak was pretty sure he was going to lose his mind without Daxter, he'd decided to let it go for now.

For the first hour, neither of them had even spoken. They'd just clung to each other in silence, taking solace in the knowledge that they were both alive, and here. Damas had stood to the side, watching, like he always did. He really hadn't given up on this "I think you're my kid" business. And without blurting out everything he knew about time-travel, Jak couldn't exactly prove him wrong. Frankly, even if he did tell Damas exactly why he was wrong -- namely, that Jak had technically only been born five-ish years ago -- Jak didn't think even that would convince him. He'd probably think it was some near-death hallucination Jak had in the desert.

Daxter wanted Jak to play along; let this new city think they were long lost children returning home. Anything was better than rejection and exile! But Jak just...couldn't. First of all, he was a terrible liar. Tess often told him he couldn't bluff his way out of a paper bag. But even more pressing, it just didn't feel right, repaying an act of kindness with one of deception. Besides, what would they do when they found out it was all a mistake? Better not to get comfortable at the outset.

It was, all in all, a difficult position to be in.

"So tell me why your friend there looks like a river-cat, but has human blood," Damas finally interrupted after close to two hours of watching them sign to each other.

"He has wha-"

"I HAVE WHAT?!"

Daxter bristled and leaped down onto the cot. "Whaddya mean my blood is still human?! How did you even figure that out?!"

Damas was entirely too cheerful when he answered, "Oh, nobody knew what you were when we found you, so we did a blood test. Using the wrong medicine could've killed you, after all. The vet called it a day and went home with a migraine once she figured out all your internal organs are identical to a human's. That's probably why you can talk, I suppose."

Sputtered explanations of Daxter's plight -- talking over each other and around each other, one blaming himself and the other refusing to accept it -- took up the next seven minutes while Damas just listened with a stupid grin. Maybe because it was the most Jak had willingly spoken to him since regaining consciousness.

On the bright side, after learning that Daxter was medically still human, Phobos had brought a pair of pants for him. Maybe they were an infant's button-snap trousers, but the buttons made room for his tail and both boys were grateful for it.

After four days of tortuous boredom and the hated IV, they finally let Jak out. No one had returned his clothes -- it figured, couldn't let him have gear that would help him escape -- so he'd had to shuffle out after Phobos in slightly undersized sandals that pinched his toes. Even with Daxter's enthusiastic and highly colorful commentary on the world outside the clinic, Jak hadn't been prepared for the size of the city around them.

He'd expected something like the Slums of Haven. Ramshackle buildings of sheet metal and broken roads surrounding a few locations of importance. The market district outside of the clinic alone could have fit all of Dead Town quite comfortably, and according to Daxter that was only a quarter of Spargus's true size! Asymmetrical sandstone houses and apartments lined city walls and a network of well-kept walking paths in a variety of levels, many with baskets of colorful fruits, or racks of laundry drying on landings high above the street.

Jak had immediately wandered away from Damas and Phobos, just trying to take it all in. The air was clear -- hot, but clean and free of smog -- and tasted of salt. A child collided with him, bounced off, and continued running as other children gave chase with shrieks of laughter. Jak had never seen kids playing in the street before. Where were the guards? The soldiers? Everyone outside walked with heads held high, calling out greetings, haggling over prices. The marketplace thrummed with life and color and sound, almost overwhelming in its intensity. Haven seemed like a ghost town by comparison!

Jak strayed between vendors' stalls, trailing his fingers along split-rail counters and sturdy awning poles. Daxter leaned eagerly over his shoulder, pointing out all the ammunition and daggers and armor being made. There were piles of metal gems being weighed on scales, traded back and forth, even being set into weapons! City of the hunter indeed. It looked like everyone had gems of their own to pay with. Daxter even swore up and down he'd seen an eight year old with a handful of metalbug gems buying a satchel of seeds!

"Oye! Don't wander off like that, kid!"

Phobos caught him two streets over, peering at a rack of creepy gas masks. She sounded more amused the annoyed, at least.

"See something you like?"

"This place is so crowded." Jak shaded his eyes and tried to guess how many of the people around him were warriors.

Phobos snorted and jostled his arm with a friendly elbow. "This is nothing. You should see the Arena!"

Arena? Like a stadium? The possibility of racing piqued Jak's interest, and he and Daxter exchanged eager glances.

"What's the Arena?" Daxter asked.

It was fairly hard to miss, as it turned out. Phobos pointed them towards a structure built into what looked like a caldera, just north of the market.

"There, that's the Arena: gathering place, courtroom, race track, stage and morgue, all in one!"

Daxter blanched. "What was that about a morgue?!"

Phobos shrugged. "It's built over lava, kid. Citizen candidates have to prove they can survive volcanic activity -- and Marauders, and- well, most desert life, really -- before we let them leave the city. If they don't take it seriously enough: whoosh! Crematorium."

"....ah." Daxter cringed and slid down Jak's back until only his ears were visible over Jak's shoulder. "Hence the age restrictions."

"Hence the age restrictions," Phobos agreed. She gave Jak a little shove. "Hey, if you want to get a look at it, one of our veteran hunters managed to trap a couple metaljackets recently. The Warriors' Guild is giving a demonstration for civ candidates and younger rookies this afternoon. Kind of a "here's what you can be if you don't slack off" thing."

"Ugh. Metaljackets." Jak rolled his eyes. "Not as annoying as Stingerheads, but they're up there."

He paused.

"Do you even have Stingerheads out here? Those stupid things drive me crazy."

"Well..." with a slightly chagrined look, Phobos tiptoed to wave down a slightly dismayed looking Damas, who was apparently questioning some baffled shopkeepers as to their whereabouts.

"I mean. We used to. But then we found out that Leapers really will eat anything they can fit in their mouth. We don't have a Stingerhead problem anymore."

Phobos shooed Jak over to the now relieved Damas. "Go on, I've got work to do. You guys, I dunno, bond or something. Take Jak to see the metaljacket exhibition."

Of course, in the clarity of hindsight, she would regret the suggestion.

There were still a few hours before the event was scheduled to take place, but there were already some people camped out to get front row seats. Damas didn't seem to think that this was a particularly wise strategy, commenting as he led the boys past the stands that the campers would likely run through most of the water they had on-hand while waiting. He paused when he noticed that one of the "campers" was an old man, stretched out on the benches and snoring softly.

"Well. Peat excluded. That guy just kind of does what he wants and manages to survive anyway." Damas tugged at his lip. "Honestly, nobody's really sure how. I mean, the man ate a cobra once because he said if it bites you, biting it back cancels out the venom."

"Does it?" asked Jak.

Damas’s head whipped around to fix wide eyes on Jak. "No! No, absolutely not! He was in the healing ward for days! But he managed not to need the foot amputated and ate the rest of the snake anyway."

Daxter gagged and Jak laughed. "I wanna meet that guy."

Rightly, Damas had a bad feeling about that.

When the exhibition did begin, Jak was a little disappointed. Sure, the long gunstaffs used to keep the metalheads back were cool, but he couldn't see the weapons' details well from the box where Damas usually sat. He leaned over the rail, squinting as one woman used her staff to vault into the air and slash a metaljacket back down to the ground. Daxter, long since grown bored, was scanning the rest of the stadium. Abruptly, he sat up and smacked Jak's arm.

"Hey lookit! It's a Precursor orb!" He pointed to a familiar shape lying on an awning halfway down the Arena walls. "Somebody must've dropped it! I bet we could get that later, huh Jak?"

Daxter looked around.

"...Jak?"

All Jak had heard was "Precursor orb" and the old childhood habits came flooding back. Without a second thought, he slipped over the railing the moment Damas’s back was turned. The metal was almost blisteringly hot, but he ignored it as he climbed down footholds that should have been too small for a human. Getting the orb without falling into the Arena would be tricky, but not impossible. He just had to watch his balance.

Up in the observation balcony, Damas was a little more focused on catching up on some paperwork than on the exhibition below. He tuned out the ottsel-boy muttering in alarm about...something...in order to review a new infrastructure proposal. The faster he got this done, the more time he would have to get to know Jak.

He heard some cries of alarm down below, but ignored them. The rookies would realize soon enough that the Guild had everything under control.

"Hey boss?"

"What, Kleiver?" Damas didn't even spare a glance at his talk-box.

"Er...ain't that your brat, climbing into the Arena?"

"What are you talking about? Jak's right-"

Damas finally looked up.

"...here?"

He dropped the datapad and leapt to his feet. "Oh don't tell me-"

A quick scan of the ring confirmed his suspicions and before he could stop himself he burst out, "JAK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Jak paused and looked up at him from where he was leaning over the awning, orb in hand. He looked down at the orb, frowned, and looked back up at Damas.

"Is...that a trick question?"

"Get back up here before you fall and break your neck!" Damas yelled, gripping the balcony edge with white knuckles.

Behind him, Daxter sighed and shook his head. "Welcome to my world, Spikes," he said sympathetically, "welcome to my world."

[girlsgenerati0n]

HIIIII RIN 💕💕💕 hehe happy new year 🥳🥳🥳

sorry ive been pretty MIA😓 i hope you’re doing well and thriving!! and continue to do so into the new year~

now, what are YOUR fav 2023 releases, kpop or not??? 🎤👀

hiiiii taylor!! 💖

omg i have LOTS. i know you don't mind if i talk a lot KAJKJEBF so i'm gonna list all the ones i can remember 😉

ABSOLUTE FAVORITES this year are: stamp on it mini by girls on top, beautiful liar mini by monsta x, roar by the boyz, thrill by e'last, moonlight sunrise by twice, rover mini by kai, golden hour by mark, hard album by shinee, hweek mini by teen top, exist album by exo, festival mini by dara, do not touch mini by misamo, new emotions by infinite, killin me good & closer by jihyo, picture by hyo, good & great mini by key, good enough by chanyeol, beep beep mini by jessica, chill kill album by red velvet, to. x mini by taeyeon, mysterious by nicole, the barbie album, ringo by itzy, on my youth album by wayv, on my mama by victoria monet, you wish by flyana boss, fact check by nct 127, istj by nct dream, aloha mini by soyou, l.o.v.e mini by youngji, bikini bottom by ice spice & the rockstar album by dolly parton KABKJBEF

lots of different genres but i like a lot of different things....

honorable mentions: movie star by mijoo, watch it & honey by the boyz, set me free by twice, fighting by bss, super god of music & monster by seventeen, flower by jisoo, perfume by nct dojaejung, unforgiven by le sserafim, spicy mini by aespa, drama & don't blink by aespa, ra ta ta by ailee, lalalala by stray kids, back for more by txt (the txt version sawry miss anitta....) guilty & the rizzness by taemin, #menow album by fromis 9, love me a little mini by shownu & hyungwon, violet by tan, in bloom by zerobaseone & new classic mini & damelo by dolla

[sinomin]

Thanks for the tag @ieatpoisonousspaghetti how fun its been forever since ive done one of these (also im keeping the animals misread because i love animals and anime can go in the show list fite me ❤️)

1. fave food/drink?

I love fries and chicken nuggets, also salt and vinegar popcorn AHHHH. For drink, a five alive with ice in it👌. America also has powerade as a soft drink option and i love it so much i wish it was here, bottled doesnt taste the same

2. fave fandom?

Currently in the buffy fandom, but my favourite one that i was ever in was definitely the carmilla fandom. Never felt more at home than the prime of carmilla era <3

3. currently watching?

Ive been watching moxie2d's pokemon artlockes tbh lol

4. your strength?

Creativity, and idk i know a lot about pets

5. your weakness?

People confuse me; im too naive and overthinking for them

6. pet peeves

When people don't listen to me, also bad smells lol

7. ideal type

You can put up with my obnoxious goofball self and you smell nice! Also make it clear you like me otherwise i overthink and will assume you hate me.

8. last food you ate?

A piece of bread

9. favorite animals?

Fox, bat, wolf/dog! I adore animals tho would die for them

10. hobbies

Videogames, art, writing/reading

11. favorite characters?

Willow Rosenberg rn, but I'll always have a soft spot for Carmilla

12. favorite show?

Carmilla, btvs, pretty little liars, mlp:fim, wynonna earp

13. wyd rn?

Working rip. Literally typing answers inbetween freshness checking cat food lol

14. how are you?

Gay and tired.

15. favorite rest-time activities:

Videogames, youtube, sleep, reading

tagging (w no pressure!):

@bauerfanstraten @smokeyeyesbrokenlife @lemonharmonica

[new-hyperfixation-every-month]

fellas. i have an idea. a truly unhinged one. it involves podcasts. i need feedback.

so Jenny Nicholson posted a youtube video called "THE Vampire Diaries Video" which was basically a deep dive into the plot and characters of the series Vampire Diaries (let it be known ive never actually seen the Vampire Diaries, i just needed a long video to listen to lmao)

other creators on youtube such as Mike's Mic were inspired by this and did similar videos on other series, such as Pretty Little Liars (which i havent watches either-)

HOWEVER. what if. i did an unhinged recap of a ✨podcast✨

im aware it would be A LOT of work, especially if i decide to do a long and complicated story like tma, but i feel like it could also be a lot of fun for me personally

idk, its smth thats been on my mind recently, and since its summer i should have plenty of time to work on it (if i can avoid my procrastination issues <3)

tell me what you think, bc knowing if others actually want to see a video like this might motivate to actually do it lmao

[amaradangeli]

Chenford + it wasn't pretend for me...

"Ah, but see... it wasn't pretend for me, baby."

Lucy tries to control the warring feelings of panic and revulsion having Flint's putrid breath hot on her face as he trails the blunt side of a blade down her cheek.

On paper, this isn't the worst fix she's been in on an undercover op, but this is the first time she's been here while also restrained and injured enough that even if she did have a sudden surge of adrenaline, she wouldn't be able to do much to save herself.

No, at this point, her best bet is to stay alive until the cavalry can arrive.

She's still not sure how her cover had been blown. She'd been careful. For weeks she'd been so careful. She'd pretended to be interested in Flint to gain access to him. She'd pretended to be everything he'd want in a woman: a little dumb, a little submissive, and a lot sexy. He'd fallen for her hook, line, and sinker.

Then the jig was up and now she's here, pretty sure she's got more than a couple cracked ribs, definitely some fractures in her hand, and her wrist tied behind her back and hobbled to her feet.

Before everything had gone to hell in a handbasket, she'd gotten a single text off to Harper. But she didn't know if the message was received, understood, or if she could even be located. There were too many unknowns for her to just give up.

As Flint pants in her face, she remembers that she's survived far worse than this idiot. Still, she bites her tongue, swallowing her retort. Because if she tells him what she really thought about getting closer to him, to allowing him to kiss her with breath she could taste, he'd surely kill her in a fit of rage. But she can't appeal to him as a turned cop and try to convince him she'd actually been interested either. Because in some ways, Tim was right. She's not that good a liar. She's unwilling to commit to the bit.

Turns out that no answer is just as bad as the wrong one, though. He jams a knee into the ribs she's now fully convinced are broken. She can't swallow the scream. She hears the shuffling of fast-moving shoes on concrete and then the distinctive double-tap of two rapid-fire shots then she passes out.

She comes to and Tim's face is the only thing in her field of vision. There's a roaring in her ears and while she can't really hear anything she can see his mouth moving. He's definitely looking at her, his hands are moving over her swiftly, checking for damage, yanking at the ropes that bind her wrists, but she's pretty sure he's not actually talking to her. He jostles her broken hand wrong and the pain flares through her hot and wild. She passes out again.

Next time she wakes up she's in an ambulance. She's got an IV in the back of her not-broken hand. Tim's sitting next to her, boring a hole into her skull with the intensity of his gaze. "Hey, you found me." They must have given her something really good for the pain.

"Of course I found you." His words are typical, but his tone is not. It would be so easy to go back to sleep, to not overthink what she's hearing in his voice, to not be so damned grateful to see his handsome face after such a long break. So that's what she does.

She comes back around when they off-load her at the emergency room. She's with it long enough to use her non-dominant hand to sign paperwork for the surgery she'll need, give Tim a shortlist of things she wants from her house, and to ask Angela to please go with him - and not because she doesn't want him in her underwear drawer. Angela seems to understand her true function.

Next, she's in a hospital room, feeling groggy and cotton-filled, her hand heavy with the frame of external traction. Tim's once again sitting next to her, but it's dark outside and he's sprawled out in a more-comfortable looking chair watching football. They're different people this time. Different together this time. And yet so much is still exactly the same.

"I can't believe you've left Kojo home alone to fend for himself."

His eyes jerk her way, and she wonders if he could understand anything she'd just said. Her throat feels like they've reconstructed it out of sandpaper and she's not entirely sure she's just spoken English.

"I didn't leave your dog alone. Tamara's with him. It was either that or she'd still be sitting here waiting for you to wake up."

"She's got exams next week. She needs to be studying."

"I told her you'd say that and sent her home. God only knows what she's doing to my kitchen right now." He leans over, so long and stretched out - if she didn't know him she wouldn't see the exhaustion and tension in his frame - and passes her a pink cup of ice chips. "That'll feel good on your throat."

She eats some of the ice chips and feels the fire in her throat recede just a little. "She shouldn't have come up here at all."

He scoffs. "There was no keeping her away."

"Why did you call her?"

"I didn't. She called me. And as it turns out, when I'm worried about you, I don't hide it well."

"You were worried about me?" She's glad he'd swooped in for her rescue, but she hadn't intended to leave him worried.

"Every damn one of the past 38 days." He sounds tired. Worn out. Depleted.

She's barely twitched her hand to reach out for him when he's uncharacteristically reaching for her. The grip he takes on her good left hand is strong but gentle like maybe she's got sympathy pain mirrored across her body.

Suddenly his phone is playing the tone for an incoming video call. He reaches across his body with his free hand instead of releasing his hold on her. The smile on his face is involuntary and deep and when he picks it up and turns the phone to face her, she sees Tamara's face fill the screen. "Look who's up." Tamara can't see the relief around his eyes, now that his face is nowhere in the frame of the camera, but Lucy can.

"Are you okay?" Tamara's voice isn't as strong or sharp as it usually is. If anything, she sounds scared, like maybe she's on shaky ground.

"I'm so much better now," Lucy reassures her, she hasn't seen or spoken to the doctor yet, and she's got some pain — hell, she's got some painkillers — but can tell that the injuries aren't a long-term threat. "You're not missing any study sessions for being here, are you?"

"Just history and I've got like the highest grade in the section."

"Okay."

"You're not going to make me go back?"

"Not tonight."

Tim turns the phone back so he can see Tamara, and more accurately so Tamara can see him switch to his serious face. "Tomorrow."

Tamara huffs, but there's no power behind it. "Move so I can see you both at the same time."

It's been a while since Lucy has heard that injured-teen pitch in Tamara's voice.

Tim doesn't attempt to slide the big recliner, but he does get up and move to sit on the edge of the bed. She tries not to be put out that he'd had to drop her hand to do it. Right now, her needs are secondary to Tamara's. She's sure Tim feels the same.

Tamara calls out to Kojo and he situates himself squarely in her lap, his square head and smiling mug filling half the screen, obscuring the right side of her face.

"He's not supposed to be on the couch," Tim grouses, but there's no real censure behind it. Tamara's been able to get away with a lot for a little while now, ever since she'd started reaching out to him without going through Lucy.

"These are stressful times," she says, "none of us can be held responsible for our actions."

Tim presses backwards into Lucy, his lower back making warm contact with her hip. "It's been a long day."

"It's been a long month. When are you coming home?"

Lucy tries not to react to how it feels for Tamara to be sitting in Tim's house asking when she's coming home. It's too clear a glimpse at something she wants more than she can articulate. "I don't know. I haven't seen a doctor yet."

"It'll be another few days at least," Tim offers. "You're going to have to have the external traction removed before you get re-casted for home."

"How do you know that? What ever happened to HIPAA laws?"

He blushes a deep crimson, almost immediately. "I think they think we're related."

"Mhmm," Tamara says, a knowing smirk on her face. "I'm sure they do."

"Go walk the dog, huh? A nice, long walk."

"Fine," she grouses, but the look on her face is warmth and fullness and Lucy's not sure she's ever seen Tamara look that way before.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Lucy says, not quite sure where the endearment came from, but she's also never felt so much like someone's family as she does right now.

"I'll be home late," Tim offers.

"Okay. Dinner's in the microwave. Love you guys," she says, and then disconnects the call.

Lucy thinks they must be doing okay with Tamara, whatever it is they're actually doing. She's thriving now, and she's come so far, using all that glorious potential she'd shown up with. "You're going to stay for a while?" she says when she's afraid she's going to say something she shouldn't to Tim.

"Until they kick me out," he affirms. He doesn't move from the bed, but he does shift to face her. "You scared the hell out of me today, you know that?"

"You're pretty old," she teases. "I'll try not to do that."

He narrows his gaze, but there's no heat in it, or at least not the kind there might have been when she met him. Now the heat is warmth and hearth and kindling, something stoking for her own fire. She wants to keep battling his gaze, but instead she yawns, and feels an injury on her face pulling.

"Are you tired?"

"Very tired."

He pushes some hair off her forehead. "I can go, and let you get some sleep."

"Or you can stay, and I can still sleep."

"Yeah. I can do that too."

As she closes her eyes and feels herself start to drift, pulled under by the remnants of her anesthesia and the painkillers coursing through her system, she hears him move to the recliner and he drops the sound even further on the television. She falls asleep feeling safe and content.