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spookysteddie · 4 months

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That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it.

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees.

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted.

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous.

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!”

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?”

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.”

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers.

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.”

…

You should’ve changed your mind.

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you.

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time.

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face.

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands.

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long.

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it.

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-”

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.”

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!”

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels.

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?”

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus.

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus.

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually.

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts.

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that. The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs.

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.”

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you.

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.”

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?”

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was.

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.”

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?”

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen.

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke.

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again.

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet.

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening.

Photos are fine.

Everyone must be tagged.

Nothing negative.

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar.

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines.

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?”

You nod, “y-yeah of course.”

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over.

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer.

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.”

…

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more.

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason.

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.”

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something?

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes.

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there!

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.”

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured.

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.”

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not?

“‘Precious babies?’”

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.”

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne.

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him.

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan.

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.”

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.”

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close.

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.”

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?”

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.”

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?”

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.”

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent.

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…”

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?”

So, you do.

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name.

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times.

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos.

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music.

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.”

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care.

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back.

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him.

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him.

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.”

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.”

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you.

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes.

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.”

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?”

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.”

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top.

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you.

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right?

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center.

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone.

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid.

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.”

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.”

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans.

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No.

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.” He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers.

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?”

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous.

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.”

“V-very.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!”

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.”

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.”

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully.

“Fuck, Eddie.”

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.”

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft”

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it.

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.”

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?”

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.”

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.”

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?”

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it.

“Oh god! Please.”

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.”

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down.

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.”

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’

“And now… we wait.”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

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fillinforlater · 5 months

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Eleven to One: Scandalous Shooting

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin

Length: 3140 words

Tags: quickie sex, semi-public sex, might get caught, sex toys, toy use in public, a tiny bit of feet kink/admiration, standing sex, from behind, hard sex, very wet, very close to squirting, very close to losing your career, megalomaniac!you

TW: semi-public sex, I guess lol

Inspiration: the GIF below. Pure sex.

Credt: @sooyadelicacies, my wonderful co-writer in this series. You can find more parts here!

(A/N: After almost three weeks, I'm finally back! Eleven to One is far from being over, view this as sort of an interlude with a big plot point and some nice, good fun with our hot af Ahn Yujin. Enjoy!)

“Excited for my new shoot? Yujin has sent a video.”

"Fuck you dumb bitch, suck it just like that."

Your cock was currently slamming the throat of a gagging Kim Chaewon for what could be between one minute and one hour, anything in between really, but either way, her salvation has just arrived. You pull out of her huffing and puffing mouth and with no further thought wasted on the training session, you prepare to leave.

"What? Where are you going asshole?" Chaewon shouts, baffled, furious, most importantly baffled when you instantly have your hands around her neck and glare down at her, petite and small, kneeling on the floor, one could almost mistake her for a good girl. Chaewon is not yet there though.

"My desire and cock is needed elsewhere. You're not a priority, only a cheap convenience. Yujin is demanding my attention, rather, I demand her body right now."

Chaewon's face further contorts to a scowl, as you expected. There is the spirit to fight, fight back, fight you, fight whoever opposes her. This spirit is slowly but surely bending to your will and the best part about it: Chaewon has no clue.

"I'm better than she is..."

Left to right, you cross her messed up face with your cock and scoff at how pitifully desperate her expression is. A little fingering with Minju, a quick blowjob, a facefuck, and she is already demanding you to stay; over your beloved girlfriend, mind you.

"Don't kid yourself, Chaewon." You get your hand in her hair, comb it then mess it up again. "You are so far behind, it's not even funny to compare yourself to her. Like I said: not a priority.

"Minmin, I need you to tie her up. Chaewon's been bad again."

"Yes Daddy!" Minju says naked before you, she is always in the next room, ready to adhere to your commands with glee and joy, even as she puts ropes around her friends ankles and wrists.

"Oh and Minju,” you add, pants not yet around your waist. “How about you suck me off and I'll blast it all over Chaewon's face before I leave. If you are fast, I’ll allow you to lick it off of her too."

Minju’s eyes brighten and she nods furiously. Soon she’ll nod on your cock.

It always fascinates you how easy it is to get into certain areas as long as you look determined and wear the appropriate attire. You dart into the building where Yujin currently still had her shooting for the 1000th magazine her stunning face will be featured on.

Is this an issue for you? No. Yujin is yours, ready to go the extra mile for you every single day. She accepts your craziest desires, the family of lustful friends around the two of you, hell, she risks her entire hard earned career and reputation for you. No reason to mistrust her or be envious because people get to see her face or shoulder or feet—

Okay, this is where you draw the line. Yujin just looks too good; her curvy, willing body on the drawer, hair done to tempting perfection, gaze full of sex and then she sticks her bare feet out. You have to stop it, though it's already on camera, they can’t have more of that.

Behind a group of staff members you come to a halt. Get on your toes and look over their heads to find Yujin, in talks with the director. You hear whispers about some reshoots, Yujin handles the small, direct criticisms like a professional. Of course your eyes also drop from her face to her hips, then even lower to her feet, which are currently hidden in two ugly slippers.

Blending in with the crowd, you make a mental note to speed up plans for your next merger, which is right around the corner, only some stupid, posh guys in suits hesitating, because they don’t want to lose face to Hyewon’s non-nonsense negotiation tactics. After this final chess move, there is no more sneaking around after that. It's a checkmate for any and every doubt. Nothing can stop your fantasies from coming true.

You wait for Yujin to notice you, but then grow impatient. Tapping on your pants pocket, you push a button and notice from a distance a twitch of pleasure on her face as she quickly scans the room to find you.

Perfect, she still has it on her. Whenever Yujin goes out, she has the option to take a small bullet vibrator from her purse and use it to relieve some stress or make a boring schedule more fun. The vibrator is connected with both your and her phone, so you can always test if she knows that you are nearby—and also have your way with her, of course.

Yujin’s libido is great enough for such a bold move and of course she has found you immediately, but instead of going straight towards you, she continues her duty. After all, the reshoots have to continue.

"This scene right here, on top of the drawer," the director says. Yujin gets into position, and thank God she kicks off the slippers.

You lick your lips a little before turning into a scowl. You push the button again, only this time on a higher setting. If you arrived, you were the top priority, not some wannabe director having his eyes look at the most sex-oozing woman to ever walk on this earth. Watching Yujin squirm, you decide to pull out your phone and make a call. The call.

"Hyewon, plans have changed. I want the merger motion to go forward right now. I'm done waiting."

"Yes, Master!"

You only had to wait as you watched Yujin continue to try and control herself under the power of the toy inside her. As the minutes and poses went on, it became harder for her to withstand the buzzing pleasure, though the constant background noise has everyone except you blissfully unaware of the vibrators presence. You have to admit, waiting is the thing you hate the most in this world, but with Yujin on the edge, in public, right before your eyes, it’s more than bearable.

"Miss Ahn, is everything okay?" the cameraman asks, worried and puzzled by Yujin's expressions and the increasing redness on her cheek.

"Hm? Oh yeah, I'm gu-ud. Should I try a different pose?"

"How about you put your legs up on it, like you did earlier?" the director suggests.

When it comes to poses, magazine shoots, and being in front of the camera in general, Yujin is a goddess in every aspect. Cute, thrilling, hot, seductive, cool, she can do it all—and today she decided to give the people what they want.

This tease cannot go unpunished. You continue to let the vibrator do its thing on a low setting to not elicit any unwanted moans and just wet her crotch more and more. It might not be noticeable on the black dress, but she is about to soak it, let her juices run down her legs and pool at her marvelous feet. You are insatiable, not even stopping when she looks at you with begging puppy eyes—

Yujin is at your mercy; only you can get her out of this.

A message from Hyewon lights up your phone. It is done, Master. Well spoken, she must have really pushed those otherwise tenacious executives around hard to get it done this quickly. Smiling, you decide to make your presence known, startling the crew.

"Mr. Director, you should be getting a phone call any moment now, I'm here to supervise the rest of this shoot. You're all doing wonderful, but I want to make sure Yujin's health is prioritized. Could we go for a lunch break now?"

"Sir, who are you—" The shrill ring of his phone interrupts the bewildered director, though his bewilderment only increases with every second the phone call continues. He hastily runs from set to set, gathering staff members, phone still pressed to his cheek.

"What have you done now?" Yujin snarls, her body not on the drawer anymore, unstable next to you. She grabs your suit, but elect to You ignore her and watch the staff flock out, the directors face full with sweat, an apologetic gesture towards you.

"So-sorry, Sir, we of course take the health of the idols very seriously. I didn't know you were managing her."

"It's alright," you say reassuringly, hand in a pocket, and in the thrill of the moment, you push the vibrator to the strongest setting. "Are you~ alright, Miss Ahn?"

Yujin cries out, her shriek startling the director. He tries to react quickly, but you put on your sternest, most serious face, really, the feat of a great actor, though that is par for the course in your business.

"Lets not waste any time. Mr. Director .I'll need everybody off the set. I'd rather not have anyone see Miss Ahn like this. Thanks for your understanding."

"I-I, of course, I'll—"

The director throws his hands in the air. His face is pale, he is unsure where to run, left, right; he needs time to catch himself and find the exit as does everyone else. He closes the door with an apologetic bow and you can hear him shout in panic and frustration.

"How the hell did you do that?" Yujin mumbles, her hands on your side to keep herself upright. Look down to find her legs drenched in her own juices, the dress ruined, her hair in a wild mane.

You lick your lips.

"Oh baby girl, you're mine now. I had Hyewon seal the deal. I bought your company, which means, personally and professionally, every part of you belongs to me."

Yujin's puppy eyes have never been bigger—except for maybe the time you first penetrated her tight pussy—though this time you find it hard to make out any clear thought she might have; is it pure bewilderment at the boldness and timing of your move? Is it anger because you purposefully got her into trouble, took things too far, just because you could? Or is it—

"Now what?" Yujin grits her teeth and looks to the wet floor. "This was too risky! Reporters will ask questions, some are going to spy on you, rumors will spread—they will find it out! You can't hide this forever."

You gently rake your hand through Yujin's raven hair and watch her toes tense up. Her entire body radiates tension, stress, like she can see everything crumble. The future looks bleak, nothing but darkness. The ‘young you’ can relate strongly, the bottom is usually dark—but as long as you fight, you'll reach the light. Even in the poorest of areas, someone is able to reach for the stars and create a better place for himself, his family.

A better place, even better than what you believed was already perfect.

"Trust me, Yujin," you coo to her and gently pull her hair back to look down at that concerned face of a beautiful goddess. "This is going to lead to moments greater than you could've ever dreamed of."

She looks at you with a swirl of conflicted emotions, but you don't let her dwell on it for too long as you move in to kiss her, prodding your tongue into her mouth too. You subtly position your left hand's fingers near her wet snatch.

"We don't have—"

"—a lot of time," the two of you whisper simultaneously. It's teamwork, alright, how she finishes your sentence with her needy voice, how you hike up her dress while she fiddles with your zipper, how you both find a bit of cover in the far corner of the room. If someone were to come in, you'd at least not be seen, but by the way Yujin squirms when you pull at the cord of the oval vibrator, her voice will make the situation blatantly obvious, even for a blind person.

"You need to stay quiet," you growl in Yujin's neck while you still try to get the plug out of her tight cunt. "This is some serious business, don't disappoint me. Do it like you did last year, on the red carpet.

"Why the fuck—"

The vibrator is still stuck inside her, the walls of Yujin's pussy clamp around it, not ready to let go of the pleasure the constant vibration brings. If it wasn't for your arm around her waist, Yujin would've dropped to the floor already. She is unable to resist it, it's deep inside her, it's snuck and comfortable.

A conflict for you, for her: Can you really let her cum just like this again? It would not be the great, immediate release for your cock you were looking for, but the humiliation, Yujin's embarrassment would make you ascend to a new level of all-powerfulness. It's the same for her, just the other way around. It seems that she has made up her mind before you though:

"Daddy please, you-you need to leave… let me finish the shoot and—"

But you keep kissing her neck.

"Baby girl," you growl. "Either you cum on my cock after I pound your tight little pussy or I turn that toy in you on maximum for the rest of the day. You'll squirt like a fucking fountain, make a mess and then what? What will the headlines say then?"

"Daddy, please! At home… I'll do whatever you want, just not here."

"You know it already don't you, baby girl? I'm your salvation—my cock is your salvation—with it inside your walls, it will keep your cum from spilling out and save you from becoming breaking news."

This much convincing, with Yujin convulsing, is really confusing, but in the end, she is unable to conceal her desire for you to plug her. Her neediness is an issue and your neediness is the solution.

There is no need or time for a blowjob, you are ready to enter right away, so you grab as much of the black dress as you can and pull it up. Yujin's help would be appreciated, but the horny thing can barely stand on her own, both her hands on your back to find security.

"You're the prettiest when you are this needy, baby girl," you tell her as her large, watery eyes are unable to look anywhere but you. A couple of tears spill over, then down her cheeks when she finally presses out the vibrator from her pussy. "Get your leg up here, on this couch."

The angle is perfect, your throbbing cock aligned—you still need to dive in her delicious full lips with that strawberry flavor to deafen her moans. The dive was almost too late, the draw of her cunt is too strong for your manhood to resist, and of course you fill her fully.

"God, you're so tight, you're always tighter when you're so needy.” Your words come pouring out when you disconnect your lips from hers; it’s like disconnecting from the world and ascending to a place of unknown, unbound, unending power. “I get it now. These shoots, these long and stressful hours. You're so hard working baby girl, but now we can fuck anytime. Isn't that a good thing?"

You thrust harshly and stroke Yujin’s pretty hair. Anytime, anywhere, it all doesn’t matter anymore. What it matters is you in her, above her, all over her. This is what your love is "Tell Daddy how it feels."

"Y-you're so greedy," Yujin huffs out, even after years of almost daily pussy pounding she is unable to control her breathing during sex. "Where, fuck, where will this end?"

"Answer my question, baby. And keep your moans down. I might make you cum, erupt like a pent up volcano. I can already feel the tsunami building up. Admit that you want me this greedy, because nothing can satisfy—"

"Fuck, okay, okay." Yujin grabs the sleeve of your suit with one hand and your nape with the other. "Daddy, own me. My entire life, my career, my social circle—take it." Her eyes are daggers, then a concoction of bliss, devotion and insurmountable expectations. "Take re-responsibility, and I'll be the best baby girl ever."

"You'll be that either way."

Slam her against one of these many thin, unstable decorative background walls, watch it sway dangerously backwards, but fuck her with the same recklessness as before. Yujin's teeth dig into her lower lip, her body losing all it's grip, except for the grip of her cunt, which you have fucked from every angle, sure, but standing has her the tightest. At least, you believe it right now—maybe it's the setting, the chance to get caught, the career ending thrill.

"I'm your good girl, good girl, Daddy, I—"

"Go on and cum. My cock will save you."

A fleeting moment, a moment of silence, no movement, as if time itself freezes. A moment where Yujin truly is powerless, where she can't just walk out and break up with you or throw everything away and live a different life. She is about to scream her orgasm out, and with her arms uselessly hanging on the sides of her convulsing, climaxing, prime body, nothing but you can stop her from getting caught.

And she submits herself to it, the scream never making it to anyone as you silence her with a strong palm on her luscious lips. Yujin shakes and shakes, only hints of juices making their way past your shaft, your base. She is plugged and both her legs and dress are saved—at least from being ruined entirely.

The orgasm continues in waves. Yujin's eyes water, her moans echo back, her knees melt like ice cream in the summer—she has to admit, she is waiting for your cream inside her, though it never comes.

"Good girl," you coo to her and start fixing her hair while still balls deep in her cunt. "I have some spare panties for you. Don't worry, I soaked them in some perfume, they won't smell anything. Remember, Daddy is right here. Just follow my lead."

"Y-yes." Out of breath is an understatement. You suffocated the poor girl to the point of exhaustion. Maybe that is the point, to make her look exhausted, weak, hell, she can barely walk. You support her, watch her put on the panties, swipe away some messed up makeup that would look too wild, too suspicious.

"Hook your arm underneath mine," you tell her. "I'll tell them your ankle is hurt, that we'll go to a doctor, something like that."

"Daddy, why do you go through such lengths for, for this?"

You grin and look down at your girlfriend, mere moments before the photography director comes rushing back onto the set.

"Why are you so tight whenever we might get caught doing this?"

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #izone smut #ive smut #male reader smut #yujin smut #ahn yujin smut

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thoughtsforsoob · 2 months

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Hiii!Can I ask for "arguments with txt" with comfort at the end?

arguments with txt

a/n: I just made like a texts version of this so please check out my last post! I will fulfill this request by making a more long form version about what arguments with them are like/about. (I hate conflict. If people are arguing or fighting in front of me, I will run off or just straight up have a panic attack, it's happened before. trust me. witnessing school fights in hs was not kind to me). I hope this is okay too :) hehe you almost got 2 parts in a way. Please enjoy! I’m currently cleaning out my inbox so idk how fast it’ll get done but I promise im doing my best. Thank you!!!

Yeonjun

Argument’s with him are very uncommon. He often time doesn’t take them very seriously that frustrates you to no end. You and him tend to argue about little things which is surprise because you seem to talk out all of the big things you guys go through. It’s very confusing to say the least. He’ll get upset with you for little things like for example: leaving your dish in the sink for later. It drives him up the wall and it really shouldn’t. His tactics for when he’s upset is to just get away from you and ignore you for an hour or two. you already know his habits so you just leave him be. He’s not really good at admitting he’s wrong or that his behavior was pointless but he knows it in his head. Over time, he’ll stop doing things like this but just give him some time. He’s adjusting to being the both of you in the apartment and not just him.

Soobin

it's so hard to argue with him because he will never want to face your issues head on. he's shy in nature so any conflict makes him nervous and he retreats, avoiding talking about it. he would much rather forgive and forget without say much at all. sometimes, though, it's impossible to forgive and forget without saying anything. when those situations so arise, you have to sit him down and talk to him very calmly. he responds better to this type of conversations. anyways, he is very silent when it comes to arguments as well. you can tell he's upset because his responses are so short and cold. the best way to ask him to talk is just asking him straight but with a very calm voice so as to not make him upset even more.

Beomgyu

I would hare to argue with him. He's so unresponsive when it comes to arguments. The only things he does is sit there and listen to you talk to him about what he's done wrong, roll his eyes with a huff and then just spew out all kinds of meant things. He knows what he's saying but he doesn't;t think it'll affect you in the long wrong. During one argument, you were getting on him about picking up his game remote from the couch and putting them into the little box you bought him for all the cables and remotes to are stored in. you also threw in a little comment about picking his dirty clothes off the bathroom floor and he lost it. he said you were lazy and did the same thing too (leaving your clothes behind). he only realizes what he's done when you start to cry right in front of him. he goes nuts apologizing and will def come to his senses when he sees you this way.

Taehyun

he will sit there at argue with you for hours, upon hours, upon hours. he is not going to back down because he hates being wrong. even if he knows he's wrong, he hates admitting it. he always eventually admits his faults but it takes a while. he is so stubborn and it causes quite a few issues in your relationship. something this causes the both of you to fight over the most silly things ever. one of the silliest ones for example was when you were talking about how much you loved in actor in a movie you had watched he'd recently. he insists that it was someone else and eventually he realizes hes wrong but he hates to say he made a mistake. he gives you silent treatment for a few hours and when that time is up, he goes to look for you and tells you to get ready because you're going to get food with him. he is such a mom when it comes to apologizing (my mom loves to mend our issues with a trip for boba or a trip to target where she buys me snacks or a new shirt or something).

Huening Kai

he is just like soobin in the aspect of a relationship. non-confrontational to the bone. arguments trigger his fight or flight and it frustrates him when arguments run too long. arguments with him are always about him putting himself down or not letting himself rest enough when he is clearly exhausted. thats all. you too can usually talk things out due to your extremely close bond but sometimes things get out of hand and you have to get on his case. it usually starts with him coming home in tears and beyond frustrated. this is almost always because he sat in the practice room and read comments left by mean people. or because ehe was struggling with a new choreography. you try to help him by telling him to wash up and get rest but he completely just blows up on you and tells you to butt out. you leave him alone but he realizes his mistake when he see you on the couch, covered with a blanket, watching tv without him. he sits next to you and apologizes. he is not someone who hates being wrong. if he's wrong, he'll apologize with no hesitation.

#txt fluff #txt imagines #txt headcanons #txt x reader #txt reactions #soobin x reader #yeonjun #soobin fluff #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #taehyun fluff #taehyun x reader #huening kai fluff #huening kai imagines #huening kai x reader

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alizalayne · 2 months

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Whats the ventilation and heat like in the suit head? I can't tell if it would be warmer or more cool to wear in compaison to a faux fur fursuit head. The only thing I worry abt is how durable needlefelting is and if it can be cleaned like a traditional fursuit head. That being said I really hope you continue making these, they're cool as hell 👍🔥👍

Okay first of all I'm super jazzed to be able to talk about this with people, and I kind of went overboard answering this, but thanks for asking! Putting this up in case anyone else is curious.

The main answers to your questions are 1: wool is cooler than acrylic fur and less stinky

2: A fursuit head is a swamp and i am snorkling in it.

I mentioned this in my behind the scenes post and there are pictures there but I literally just made a snorkel out of a snorkel mouthpiece and two collapsible automotive funnels, the kind that you can bend into a shape so that you can get goo into a weird part of your car.

that snorkel piece goes straight out of a vent hole in the inside of the ear and I felted a pink skin flap in front of it and then felted white fiber into that so it just looked like a tuft. it worked perfectly, it's just that I couldn't talk in it that well. But I'm definitely going to keep using it if I can't think of a better mouthpiece for it because as SOON as I breathed inside the head instead of through the snorkel I was like oh my god everyone is living in hell.

You can see it in this picture a little bit. nobody noticed it at all!

My friend had made a much more traditional head with a bigass electric fan in it and he was having more heat issues than I was, because I cannot stress enough that acrylic fur is like, one of the most horrifically hot fabrics you can wear. I don't know how everybody is even alive!! and there's a layer of ACRYLIC BACKING on it! Also check out how "short-pile" my fur is, most of the head is only an inch thick, it's a half-inch bucket head made out of foam covered in maybe 1/3 of an inch of wool? the less space you have between the fibers the less heat gets trapped. I was shocked by how comfortable I was, and I was having migraine symptoms that day and was extra sensitive to heat. The con where we were had the air turned down and it was chilly outside, but I was shocked when I took the head off and shook my hair out and I wasn't even sweating. I had long hair in a wig cap under that thing and I wasn't sweating. It was crazy.

As for cleaning the wool, I cannot find anyone else who has done this who has cleaning tips for me, but the foam is what I'm worried about. After a few hours of wear there's nothing wrong with the wool at all, but i can TELL the foam is ever so slightly nasty, because the foam is polyurethane and wool is what you make hiking socks out of. I have some wool cleaner coming in the mail that's made for delicate needlefelted items like scarves and deposits lanolin, which is what keeps wool "alive" kind of like how you have to care for leather. It's definitely an experiment! Nothing ventured nothing gained!

I don't have an idea in mind for a second head right now and the next thing I want to make is a cowl so I can wear lower-cut tops with this head, but I might try something else if I think of an idea! I'm probably never gonna sell these because I'm weird about selling sculptures for whatever reason. They're like my living beasts.

But I definitely hope this encourages other people who might be interested in bringing needlefelt or other fiber art sensibilities to this space, that would be a massive complement and a high honor to give people a new way to enjoy a hobby that I know means a ton to a lot of people.

#fursuit

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gffa · 23 days

Text

So, I fucking loved The Living Force, I found it to be one of the most Jedi-positive books out there, and look I can't guarantee you that you'll feel the same way, this book only gets the Lumi stamp of approval, not the "you'll definitely love this as a fan of the Jedi" stamp of approval, so take that as you will. But this book took such care to give the Jedi Council members different fun personalities, that even when Saesee was a total grump, he was a funny grump and one who clearly dove right into helping people, that even when it was Qui-Gon who issued the challenge, the book showed it as an excuse for the Jedi Council members to take some time off to go do what they were choosing to do, that their good acts were their own, not Qui-Gon's. This book took such care to give moments to the Jedi discussing why they put their efforts where they did and showed that they all loved helping people, none of them felt this was beneath them for a moment, only that they felt they could help more people by doing their regular Council duties most of the time. The discussions they had weren't about castigating themselves, but about discussing where their balance should be, that their work as a Council was always seen as necessary, that they very much did need to look towards the future, but that they as individual Jedi sometimes needed a reason to do something more individual. Because of that good-faith feeling in the narrative, other things also came off really good-naturedly, like Ki-Adi-Mundi often was stilted or just did not understand the point of some of this ridiculousness, but he was never painted as uncaring, but instead very much came off to me like he was on the spectrum and that that was fine, it was part of the feeling of how each of these characters is allowed a different personality and allowed to see duty and the Force and their lives differently, that there was emphasis put on how the Council prized those differences because it helped make them stronger.

And the author clearly had an absolute blast writing Yarael and Even Piell especially, they were hilariously fun and there is SO MUCH FUNNY BANTER, like there's so much friendly teasing between characters, there's so many little moments that show these people care about each other and have fun with each other, that there's no doubt that this Council is full of life and light. I also really enjoyed Mace and Depa's dynamic, that it's clear he cared about her and still worried about her, but he trusted her to take care of herself, that Depa's part of the storyline was a bit more subdued in a lot of ways, but she was thoroughly competent and trusted to understand what she was getting into. Mace does fuss over her a bit in the end, but she's strong enough to stand up for herself and he takes it in stride because she's a Jedi Master now and knows what she's doing, that she's trusted to be right about what's going on and how this should be handled, as well as her deep care for the people she gets involved with around her.

The only real heads up I would give (other than to caution that the opening chapters might make you side-eye a bit, but I ask a little patience with the book) is that it's in a specific worldbuilding genre, that it's not really about the spiritual aspect of the Jedi Order worldbuilding, but instead more about administrative worldbuilding and the action plot. But if you're into that (and I was so into that because I love worldbuilding detail!) and into the Jedi Council being hilarious and getting time to basically take a vacation, then I hope you'll enjoy this book with me, too. I know what the interview from the author said, but honestly I felt none of that with the book, it felt like a story that really understood the increasing complexity of the galaxy around them and that there weren't any easy answers, that the future does matter, even if so too does the present, that what the Council does as a Council is vital to the good work the Jedi Order does, but that this provides them with the breathing space to balance it with their own individual ways of being a Jedi, which is simply giving them some breathing room and letting them flourish on their own!

#lumi.txt #star wars #the living force #the living force spoilers #novels: the living force

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adyophene · 2 months

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lucifer x husk is something i never knew i needed and as a multishipper im screaming

literally. king of hell x some alcoholic furry guy

i love them i need to know how they wouldve met, fallen for each other and started dating. and how much thatd piss alastor off

Ooh I am so happy other people are enjoying this pair as much as I am! I've gotten a few asks about my headcanons for them, and I am happy to blab on and on. Fair warning. This is gunna be a long and rambling essay.

I'm gunna put it all under a readmore, just cause I want to insert the art I've done of them so far, since I've been half-heartedly trying to tell a visual story through the doodles.

Okay. On we go!

How they met;

We did see them technically meet in the show, where they shared their singular canon piece of dialogue, which was just Husk saying 'hey'. And then in the finale where we see a literal split second moment of Lucifer holding Husk's arm.

(also seeing the sweet looks huskerdust is giving each other here just makes me feel so delulu for writing this all, but crackships are silly by definition, so lets get back to the lucihusk) For me, what I imagined, is after the Hotel is finished its rebuilding, that is when Husk and Lucifer finally actually meet in a proper manner. I think Lucifer would be trying to make a good impression on all Charlie's friends at this point, endeared to all of them from their actions during the finale. Unfortunately, I think he is also the King of Bad First Impressions.

[Note. I think at this point Lucifer wouldn't even remember Husk's name quite yet. I think he would call him 'Keekee' ( by accident) or 'Dusk' (confidently incorrect) or just be like "Hey!.... Uh... You?" until Charlie or Vaggie finally corrected him. ]

Husk, on the other hand, I feel like maybe wouldn't gel with Lucifer right away. Wouldn't hate him, but also maybe not be enamored with him right away. Same as Lucifer, maybe he would have sweetened on him a bit through the hotel's rebuilding, but I think they'd start out at very neutral feelings. Maybe a vague sense of 'He's okay, but I don't know if we will really get along.'

Despite this, Lucifer is persistent, and he's going to be everyone's (except maybe Al, unless they start getting along by s2) buddy. He'd start hanging around the bar and participate in the redemption exercises.

Now, we know Lucifer struggles with depression, and I think he would be trying real hard to mask anything going on during this time. They defeated Adam! They rebuilt the Hotel! He believes in Charlie's dream, and he's more involved with her life and other people than he has been for years.

His only issue being Husk sees right through it, both because Husk is perceptive, but also because even the King of Hell can't help but have a lonely night or two at the bar where he ends up venting about his divorce and subsequent lingering loneliness.

[snapcube ref aside, )I really do think Husk would start to feel more positively toward Lucifer after Luci would drop the act somewhat. That they could bond over feeling both at their lowest of lows, while also being to admit that things seem to be getting better!

This would be about the point that I imagine Lucifer developing more romantic feelings! Husk would be a bit less prickly, and Luci would just absolutely eat up any and all positive interactions they'd have. I like to picture a lot of little shows of care at the this point, like Husk memorizing what Lucifer likes and even making up 'fun' drinks just to try and cheer the guy up. And Lucifer would fun a fun game in trying to get the grumpy cat to smile, and just, lighting up himself any time he was successful.

And that culminating into the two of them making each other laugh, with Alastor being an easy butt of the jokes, and a good way for Husk, himself, to finally get a chance to vent. I think Lucifer would be one of the only 'safe' options for Husk to do that with, in just so far as Al can't really threaten Lucifer, and Lucifer already sees Al as a bit of a manipulative bastard.

Falling for each other; At this point, Lucifer would start being a bit more caring toward Husk, though with that wonderful, oblivious flair of his. I don't think Lucifer himself would realize he'd have a crush up until he'd start feeling protective or jealous over Husk, and it would really throw him for a loop at first.

Because fake dating is one of my all-time favorite tropes, I have always had a idea for a fanfic (or comic) that I haven't gotten around to yet, based around Lilith coming back, and Lucifer panickily asking Husk to pretend to be his boyfriend, so he can appear well adjusted/completely over her. Of course the whole thing would backfire, as Lilith would see through it (as Lucifer wouldn't be as good of an actor as he'd think), and that Husk would end up kind of feeling hurt by the whole thing.

Husk, who'd go along with the plot with an eyeroll, would find himself seizing up through the whole fake date/encounter. Would find weird, sudden emotions bubbling up and absolutely hating it.

I don't think that man would think about the class difference between him and Lucifer up until someone would say something about it, maybe Lucifer himself trying to rationalize the (at this time still fake) relationship to Lilith. Now, Husk feels uneasy about the whole thing and ends up drinking heavily the whole night so he doesn't have to think about feelings. (Blitz and Stolas who? Ahaha. fuck.) Meanwhile, while the date would be fake, I think Lucifer would really rather like having Husk on his arm and feeling like he'd have a love-life again, while also not really getting why Husk's mood would be getting worse throughout the night. I think they'd still end up on good terms, but both of them would have their feelings in a jumble, and Husk would not like it. (he thinks he's lost the ability to love, after all)

I think somewhere at this point, as they are starting to develop feelings for one another, is when Lucifer finally starts really realizing how tied to Alastor Husk is, and he starts to make it everyone's problem. I do think Al and Lucifer would stay snarky at each other this whole time, but that it'd only get worse, as Al would poke back since he'd find Lu's over reactions funny.

I also think Al would be maybe the last person to realize anything romantic would be brewing between Lucifer and Husk, and he'd just think it'd be a purely platonic thing.

Beyond just bitching about Alastor, Lucifer would really be ramping up his attention towards Husk too. Fully in that 'puppylove/crush' stage, and trying his darndest to make Husk feel good and special. Husk would be resistant to it all, thinking it would just be Lucifer rebounding hard, and not wanting to get wrapped up in Morningstar family drama when he could happily (miserably) keep his head down and just keep drinking the days away.

But then Lucifer would find out about Husk's love of stage magic, and his history as a performer, and it'd be all over for the catman. It would become Luci's new pet project to rope Husk into some joyful self-expression, and after a song and dance number's worth of convincing, Husk would start to come around. I have to post all these images now cause- I drew them with the intention of mimicking a musical number! Husk starting off as a bit resistant before jumping in whole heartedly, and Lucifer overexcitedly dragging him along throughout the music number, hyping him up and just all around being smitten.

And this is where Husk would start really falling. Getting swept up in indulging his favorite, least destructive hobby, and having someone who absolutely loves it to bond with. Especially when it would be over. When they would just settle down and talk, and laugh, and bond over what they love about performing. The spectacle, the audience, the love of the craft. Its about the comradery!!!

@belladonazeppole wrote a wonderful series of fanfics based off these pictures, as well as the songs from 'The Greatest Showman' that really fit the ship! I would be remiss to not mention them here, because Bella and their fics are just wonderful!

How they started dating;

Now. Don't think just cause they both caught feelings for each other, that they'd immediately admit to it. No. I think both of them would drag their heels. I don't think Husk would admit to them at all, without some outside force effecting it. I think he'd stubbornly try to ignore the crush or drink it away, rather than let his heart become vulnerable to anymore damage.

Meanwhile, Lucifer would be struggling between his feelings for Husk and Lilith. (In the actual canon, I do think they might try to rekindle things, depending on what kind of person Lilith turns out to be, but I digress.) Part of him would be so swept up in a giddy kind of excitement, while the other would be set firmly in the camp of 'this is a bad idea, this won't work out, just look at what happened to your last relationship'. It wouldn't stop him from being outwardly more and more affectionate, but it would be weighing on him.

I do think Lucifer would end up being the one who would be thinking; "What am I doing. He'd never like me back." While Husk would be just sitting there (echoing what was said in the ask- sorry I went all wild and wrote this much about the ship dear god)- "I'm just some fucking furry alcoholic, what the fuck would the king of hell see in me??? Am I delusional? What the fuck is going on??" And I feel like this stage would go on for MONTHS and drive everyone else nuts. It would be clear to everyone (except Alastor, who again, would be just this meme

Though that wouldn't stop him from getting a little pissy about it) And then it would all come to a head during something benign, like a board game night. There would be flirting, there would be jealousy, there would be arguing, and then finally, loudly and with a lot of feeling, Lucifer would shout his way through asking Husk out on a date. A real Date. A capital 'D' date out on the town, dressed to the nines and a real good time. The board would be knocked over in the fray, game pieces raining down upon them while Husk would just stare blank faced, trying to process what just happened. An awkward half-minute would pass before he'd finally, trying to play it cool, shrug out a 'sure'.

How much it'd piss Alastor off;

In the aftermath, a radio static would just lowly grate everyone's ears as Alastor would be slowly coming to terms on how just annoying it would be to have his friend (/Unhealthy co-dependent pet friend possession??) romantically involved (ew) with the King of Hell (double ew)??? Then, either it would be something light hearted like 'he keeps trying to break them up but failing cause he hates interacting with romance' or a darker route where 'he keeps trying to manipulate them into breaking up by preying on all their worst insecurities in the relationship'.

And that, my friend, is all I have in mind so far for this delusional crackship au! There is more I could flesh out, of course, like Angel's role as a friend or potential third in the relationship, or what I imagine as Husk becoming like a stepdad to Charlie, but I've typed enough for the whole month. Hope any of that was coherent! I did not bother to edit or proof read it. Just pure stream of consciousness.

#not art #this is long #like really long #like don't open it unless you want 25 paragraphs about a crackship that like 12 people ship #royalflush #lucihusk

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withlovelunette · 1 year

Text

How to construct character psychology!

– Introduction

Hello hello! :D I’ve been very slow with my writing lately due to uni work (and some unforeseen health issues), but I’d like to still be able to make content and be interactive in the writing community, so I’m here again to share some advice based on my own experiences! One of my favourite things about writing is writing characters, specifically constructing a character’s psychology. I’d like to preface this post by saying that while I’ve had formal classes in psychology, I’m by no means any sort of expert within the field, and I also don’t believe that every aspect of how a character is written needs to be rooted in realism. However, I do want to share some insights that I got from it, and also because I feel like “character psychology” has this very mystified weight to it that makes it seem a lot bigger and intimidating than it needs to be.

So! My goal is just to share some advice on how to break down a character’s psychology and work from there! If you like what you read and would like to read more, I’ve also written a post about creating “complex” characters, which you can find the link to here! Aaand yes I think that’s about all I have to say beforehand, I hope you enjoy :,)

What do I mean when I say psychology?

Before getting into the nitty-gritty, I’d like to start with the basics, just to make sure people are on the same page when reading this post. When I’m talking about psychology here, I’m specifically referring to a character’s cognition, as in how they process information and act on it/make judgments. I’m not necessarily referring to personality in this case (although personality is an aspect of psychology, but I’m more so referring to personality as a consequence of cognition here, rather than as a collage of traits and behaviour).

Another thing I want to clarify is that exactly how much of human behaviour is nurture vs nature is a hotly debated topic that I’m completely under-qualified to take a stance on, but for the sake of this post; I believe both are equally essential aspects of human behaviour, so just keep that in mind! (I’m looking at any behaviourists in the chat rn). That being said; I’m not really comfortable treating psychology as “nature” (as such rhetorics are often used in gender-essentialist and other bigoted ways of thinking), so my main focus will be nurture, since that’s what is most readily observable!

Determining character motivation

If you’re working with very little or bare minimum characterization, my recommendation is to consider; what motivates a person to act? And by this, I’m not referring to the external quest or goal behind the character, but rather, what’s the core of what motivates your character to act at all? Even in grand, epic adventures of good vs evil, where the external goal is as simple as “putting an end to whatever evil the bad guys are doing”, there needs to be a reason a character is specifically on the side that they’re on. Multiple characters can be on the same side, but they might find themselves on that side for vastly different reasons, even when their exterior goals are the same. From there, you’ll want to consider what informs this motivation in particular.

One technique I love to employ, when still figuring out my character, is to have them make some sort of bizarre decision, a decision I’d initially think to be improbable for this particular character, and then try to list off various justifications or variables that would allow for this character to make this particular decision. There’s a couple of reasons for why I do this.

1) It removes some of the pressure to have a perfectly cohesive, perfectly put together and neatly defined character from the get-go. The drafting process isn’t just for plot and story structure’s sake, it’s also there for you to experiment with characters! Having your characters make story altering decisions that possibly challenge or contradict themselves is a great way to make sure that you’re writing active characters as opposed to more passive ones, and I think the first couple of drafts should really be a playground for you to see just how far you can stretch your characters based on their characterisation.

2) It helps me clarify what is and isn’t important in my character’s decision making. I’m a firm believer that most decisions/actions aren’t inherently in or out of character; it just depends on whether or not the readers/viewers can understand the character’s thought process behind their decision, and this ultimately comes down to how well you, as the writer, conveys the character’s priorities when they make decisions. If you’re established that a character acts based on a code of honour, an exterior source to morality and conduct, then the justifications and reasonings they would use to justify murder would likely be very different than a character who acts based on their own convictions. This is also a great way to show character development; by showing how a character’s decisions gradually change as their cognition change as they develop.

3) It allows me to explore nuance and make note of potential contradictions within the character’s way of thinking—which is often the most interesting aspects of a character’s psychology, at least in what I enjoy to write and read. Most real people don’t have perfectly cohesive morals, and most people can’t always act congruently with their morals either, so allow for your characters to make some bizarre decisions! See how far you can stretch their cognition! These decisions don’t have to be canon to the story, but it’s a good way to actually solidify what line of thinking your character makes when faced with difficult and potentially morally indicative choices.

Work your way backwards!

If you already have the overall traits and behavior of your character pinned down, you can always work your way backwards! As a pantser, this is a very common occurrence for me. I have a character with a clear goal and defined characteristics, but they’re completely uninformed so far, as I usually discover the cause of their motivation and characteristics as I write the story. As such, most of my characters don’t have any sort of backstory established until I’m much further into the process, as I discover it as I go along. So here’s some things I look out for in my character writing when creating a backstory after I’ve already established a character.

1) What are some things the character is often drawn towards? Humans are typically very habitual, a lot of us enjoy some sense of familiarity (to varying degrees depending on the person), and taking note of what your character tends to gravitate towards can be a great stepping stone to fleshing out backstory. An example could be a somewhat cold, stoic character who’s incredibly picky with their relationships due to trust issues (pretty common characterization) has a tendency to let their guard down more when around elderly people. Why is that? Maybe they were raised by very old parents, or even grandparents. Maybe it’s a cultural thing to treat elderly with more respect. Maybe it’s a religious thing. Maybe it’s because elderly people have treated them with more kindness in the past, etc. Note that this can be flipped too! Maybe this character feels uneasy around people closer to their own age, or even people who are younger than them.

2) How does your character socialize? The way a character approached social settings can often be very indicative of how they were raised, as that tends to affect how people form attachments (according to attachment theory in psychoanalysis, at least). Are they very sociable? If so, why? Is it because they’re accustomed to being around a lot of people? Maybe they had a very large family, or maybe they had a family that took part in a very active social sphere. Maybe this character just comes off as sociable because they understand the value of social connections. Why’s that? Maybe their family have a political influence, or maybe they have a business they want to sell, etc. Or maybe it’s the complete opposite; maybe this character grew up with little to no family at all, and that’s why they want to make friends and connections. If so, then maybe that affects how they make decisions, leaving them incredibly loyal and somewhat co-dependent. Even the smallest character traits and behaviours can be expanded upon to inform you of how that character was possibly raised, it’s really just about digging into said behaviour!

3) How receptive are they to new experiences or other people’s perspective? This is also somewhat linked to attachment theory, but it doesn’t have to be approached that way! The reason I bring this point up is because I find that a character’s receptiveness is often a good way to gauge their relationship with their parent. For example, a character with very strict, traditionalist parents might adopt that outlook on life because it offers them a sense of stability and security. They weren’t raised to be adaptable or to adjust themselves to new experiences, and thus have a difficult time accepting things outside of their established paradigm. This would suggest that this character likely didn’t rebel much to their parents’ outlooks on things (or if they tried, they failed), since they adopted said outlook for themselves. Another way to write this character (with the same premise) is to have them react in the opposite way; maybe they are super open and receptive because the rigidness of their parents prevented them from ever experiencing anything. Maybe the status quo bored them, or maybe they see their parents as narrow minded. This characterisation suggests that there’s possibly more tension (not necessarily in a negative way) between the character and their parents.

Interplay between morals & behaviour

A character’s morals and behaviour don’t always have to align. Like I mentioned in an earlier point, humans hold a lot of contradictions, and how people cope with those contradictions can vary. However, how do you determine if a contradiction is purposeful rather than a case of out-of-character writing?

Let’s say you have a character who views all animals as sacred, and this is something they were raised with. Suddenly, this character is thrust into a situation in a different world/kingdom/region/etc. where eating animal meat is the only viable food option to survive. They decide to do it, despite their morals directly conflicting with this behaviour.

One way this character might justify this is by thinking “well, my intentions matter most, and my intention was never to hurt animals, so while I feel bad for killing an animal for food, my intentions of doing so respectfully makes this action more acceptable to me.”

But another character in the exact same situation might not be satisfied with such logic. Maybe they see intentions as irrelevant, and only care about the consequences of their actions. If it’s been established beforehand that a character is consequentialist, then this action, paired with the justification above, would feel incredibly out of character, because the logic behind the justification is not intuitive to the reader.

Whether a contradiction feels purposeful or out-of-character ultimately boils down to what information and how much of it you’ve given to the readers, so that they have the information necessary to break down the interplay between the character’s morals and behaviour.

Using other tools (cognitive functions, socionics, enneagram, etc.)

As I’ve mentioned before on this blog, I’m very interested in various types of typology (mbti probably being the most popular and well known one), and while I consider all forms of typology to fall under pseudo psychology, I often use these tools to help me better understand my own characters better! I personally gravitate towards cognitive functions (which is not the same system as mbti, even though it uses the same letter system) as they help me put into words my character’s cognition, and enneagram, which describes behaviour and motivations that arise from a person’s upbringing and coping mechanisms. There’s other things you can take into consideration as well, like socionics, temperaments, attitudinal psyche, etc!

I’m not suggesting you use these as replacements for developing characters, but they can be great supplements when trying to dig deeper into your character’s psychology! I’d also argue that you get more out of putting these systems into use if you learn about typology and analyse your characters yourself instead of taking a test for them, but I’m also very biased in this regard, since I enjoy analysing my characters myself :,) And there are times where I’ll take a few tests to help solidify my breakdown if I’m having a difficult time labelling my character correctly. Honestly, just have fun with it!!

– Outro

Sorry for yet another lengthy post! And sorry it was a bit later than I’d anticipated, I had a much busier weekend than I thought I’d have, so I kept having to squeeze writing in anytime I had enough spare time to sit down, and then I stumbled across a series of health complications that I’m still trying to sort out. Which, speaking of, thank you so much to everyone who’s been wishing me good luck! I’m still working on figuring out what’s wrong, but I’m making progress!

As usual, my asks and messages are always open, so feel free to shoot me a message about anything! Even if I may be slower with my replies ^^; Thank you for reading! <3

#original post #writing advice #writing tips #psychology #characters

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esamastation · 7 months

Text

Shizuroth, part eighteen

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen

Why hasn't he ever gone shopping with Sephiroth before? Aside from the fact that Sephiroth was socially repressed and awkward and aloof and would've never lowered himself as to be seen in public with anyone. And the fact that Genesis didn't want to even think about sharing his few precious moments of downtime with Sephiroth, of all people. And also the fact that Genesis was pretty sure, at least up until this point, that it would be an excruciating experience for everyone involved….

But it turns out that Sephiroth makes for a hilarious shopping company. The man is unexpectedly prissy and demanding - and, really, quite fussy when it comes to his looks.

While waiting for his coat to be readjusted, Sephiroth is putting on a fashion show in the tailor's very cushy dressing room.

"No, the hue is too cold - can you please get me the darker green one? Same size," Sephiroth says, making faces at his reflection, after trying out about a dozen different, almost identical, button up shirts.

"Right away, sir," the rather flustered tailor's assistant says and scurries off.

"I never thought you'd have a favourite colour," Genesis scoffs, lounging back on a fancy armchair while watching as Sephiroth accepts the shirt from the eager tailor's assistant. There's a pile of rejected and another of accepted articles of clothing nearby, and they're all in shades between dark forest green and the lightest shade of mint green.

No matter how much mess Sephiroth caused, the store would be making a big sale today - so much so that they'd closed early, just for Sephiroth.

But then again, there probably isn't a store in Midgar that wouldn't close for Sephiroth.

"You've never worn green before," Genesis adds, leaning back on the comfy armchair lazily and enjoying the VIP treatment - which includes coffee service and everything.

Tch. He was a VIP patron too - but they'd never closed the store for him.

"Hm," Sephiroth answers, deftly buttoning up the shirt and adjusting the cuffs, before pulling on the jacket of the suit he'd been trying on. Because that's what he's doing, trying to colour match a suit. A very light green suit.

It doesn't suit him.

"A much better match, sir," the tailor's assistant says, a little too eagerly, all but fawning over him. "You have such a keen eye."

"Is that so," Sephiroth says noncommittally, making another hilarious stink face at himself while buttoning up the suit jacket. He still doesn't look satisfied.

"It washes you out," Genesis points out the obvious and swings to his feet. "My friend, you simply don't have the colouring for such pale hues."

Sephiroth sighs unhappily, giving his own reflection a disappointed look. It's almost a Goddess damned pout. "I don't, do I?" he says in defeat. "And the green really doesn't do my complexion any favours."

"It really doesn't," Genesis grins, clapping him on his shoulders. "I'm afraid black is still your colour."

Sephiroth sighs again and then looks at him thoughtfully. "What is that shirt you're wearing?"

"Alas, it's not high fashion. A Shinra issue," Genesis explains with a sigh. "Mass produced and utterly commonplace."

"Huh," Sephiroth looks surprised. "It… looks good?"

"Oh, spare me, I know it doesn't, but when you go through so many it's simply easier to get them in bulk," Genesis says, shaking his head. "Bullet holes simply do not come off, after all. And the SOLDIER uniform turtlenecks are just about the only good article of clothing Shinra has ever produced."

Sephiroth hums, looking him up and down and turning back to the mirror. Then he sighs. "Please get me another version of this suit," he says to the tailor's assistant. "In black this time."

"Right away, sir," the mostly useless assistant says, doing a remarkably good job at not bouncing in excitement. "And for a shirt, sir?"

Sephiroth looks at himself for a long moment. He scrunches up his nose and then mutters, "... I suppose it should be in red."

"Stealing my style, now?" Genesis asks, leaning against his shoulder. "Also what is wrong with red?"

"It's not just red, rather the combination of black and red… ah, never mind. I suppose it will bring out my eyes," Sephiroth says, like he's admitting defeat.

It will bring out his eyes? Who is this guy and what has he done to Sephiroth? Genesis snorts and claps him on the shoulder again. "If you say so."

He's right, though. Red and black look much better on Sephiroth. As does the suit. Genesis has never even imagined Sephiroth in formal wear before, but… it's not a bad look.

"You know, one fight in those delightful clothes, and they're in very expensive shreds," Genesis points out, while idly trying on some gloves, wondering if he should invest in some formal wear.

"Why would it be in shreds?" Sephiroth asks almost resentfully, turning to select a tie. He's actually a little mad about red and black suiting him so well!

Wow.

"You…" Genesis starts and then sighs. Of course Sephiroth doesn't remember. "Fancy and very fitting," he adds, just to dig it in, "though they are, clothing of this calibre can't stand the types of battles you and I get in. That's why we wear leather. Or mass produced uniforms we don't have to pay for."

Sephiroth just sort of blinks at him, easing the tie over his head. "You've worn a uniform?" he asks, dubious. "You?"

"Yes, I have worn a uniform - I had to go through the whole two ranks to get where I am now, didn't I?" Genesis asks, testing the gloves by spreading out his fingers. They're fingerless and quite nice. "Not a fan of trousers, I admit. I never had the ass for them."

Sephiroth coughs at that, smothering a laugh, and tucks the tie into his collar. "I see," he says, looking down at himself in order to adjust the tie.

Genesis leans back to watch him. "Neither do you. Or, rather, you have too much shoulder going on. Far too top-heavy, you'd look ridiculous."

"Thanks?" Sephiroth says, amused, and then turns around to face him, a black tie firmly in place. "How do I look?"

"Like a damn Turk," Genesis scoffs. A very good looking Turk, but one nonetheless. He turns to the starry-eyed tailor's assistant. "Get him one of those great coats from the back - a black one, obviously, with red lining if you have it."

"Ah, those aren't leather, sir - mainly cotton and wool," the assistant says apologetically.

"Then get us a fancy wool one, and then go check how your master is coming along with our order."

"Y-yes, sir, right away, sir!"

"Please and thank you," Sephiroth says to the assistant, who almost trips hurrying off. "There's no need to be rude, Genesis."

"Who's rude? It's their job," Genesis huffs and folds his arms. "You rock up at Shinra tower looking like this, and they'll start making you go to functions too."

"What do you mean, functions?" Sephiroth asks warily.

"Parties, galas, meet and greets, maybe even interviews," Genesis scoffs. He's usually the one who has to go - he was more presentable than Angeal, who didn't know how to swim those waters, or Sephiroth, who had the social graces of a poisonous wallflower. "Public events of the social kind."

"Ah," Sephiroth says, fiddling with his cuff. "That's fine then."

"... That's fine? You hate those things!"

"Do I?" Sephiroth asks, giving him a bitchy face like he knows something Genesis doesn't. "Hm."

Genesis eyes him dubiously. "Well, I suppose you'll learn why very soon," he mutters. "If they make you go."

The tailor's assistant brings in the great coat, and Genesis throws it over Sephiroth's broad shoulders before the man can try putting his arms into the sleeves. Hanging over him like a cape, it ties the outfit together perfectly.

"There, you look fit to take over the world," Genesis says, motioning to the mirror.

Sephiroth hums, stepping so that he faces the mirror at an angle. "I guess it's a popular colour scheme for a reason," he murmurs, begrudgingly impressed, and flicks the hem to make the red lining flash dramatically. "Fitting, I suppose."

"Silver Elite are going to lose their little minds," Genesis agrees. "You'll take it, then?"

Sephiroth takes a moment, adjusting his collar. "I'll take it," he says finally. Then he smiles and slightly bows at the tailor's assistant. "Thank you for your efforts."

"I-it wasn't any trouble, sir!" the poor assistant gulps, looking a little wobbly at the knees. "The master is finished with your leather coat, sir. If you're ready…"

"I am," Sephiroth agrees, running a satisfied hand down his front. "I am very ready."

The planet isn't, Genesis thinks with a sense of exhilarated doom. The planet isn't ready for this at all.

Shizun can no longer rock Qing Jing Peak colours ☹️ The Tragedy is immeasurable.

(aka I meant to put him in Qing Jing Peak colours but then I looked up Sephiroth in a suit and 👌 black and red is really the Aesthetic here.)

(This is all Very Important To The Plot. Which Totally Exists.)

#Fanfiction #ffvii #ff7 #svsss #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan

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pedroshotwifey · 1 month

Text

Without Words

This can be seen as a stand-alone but I count it as a part to two this fic

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word count: 2.6k

Tags/Warnings: Oral (m), cock worship, piv sex, rough sex, choking, semi-public sex, sprinkles of feelings, age gap, face fucking, degrading names (affectionate), cum eating, stuff I'm forgetting

Summary: You want to show Joel how much he means to you...but maybe in a less classy way.

A/N: Hey, babes! I hope you enjoy this part! I know a lot of people wanted to see an update, so here we are <3

*****

It’s been another long ass day. You and Joel were able to pick up the same shift, but there was enough work for four people—which is not the norm for the job you’d picked today. It took you three hours too long, but you’d gotten it done. Now that you and Joel aren’t glaring daggers at each other anymore, you’re actually able to be productive.

You walk hand-in-hand with him now toward your shared apartment. It’s been about a year since the two of you had caved into each other, and things honestly couldn’t be better. You’d had your fair share of fights—which is only to be expected with the attitude you both possess—but things have been good.

You moved into his apartment a couple of months ago, since he kept having to sneak out of yours too close to curfew. He practically lived at your apartment, even though his was bigger, because he didn’t want to risk you walking home late at night. It was an effortless change for you.

There was the issue at first about your age difference, and about how people might react when they realize what the two of you had become, but neither of you wanted to let that affect you. It’s the end of the fucking world, as Joel had put it, you both deserve to spend it with whoever you want.

You look up at him, admiring the way he walks so confidently with you on his arm. Like it’s no big deal at all. It took a little while for people to stop giving the two of you strange looks, but even from the start, he had embraced your relationship with no shame.

You haven’t even told him you love him yet.

It’s more of an unspoken thing, you think. Something you show with gifts and actions and physical affection, because deep down, you’re both still broken people in the apocalypse, and you don’t want to admit that you have a weakness. That’s what love is, after all. Just another thing for you to lose.

“Joel?”

It’s only now that you finally lose your composure. All damn day, you’ve been distracted, and you can tell he knew that much, but maybe not exactly what the problem was. Maybe it’s that thought—that you haven’t told him how you feel. But you know that you won’t even now. So you’ve been caught up in other ways to show him, to tell him.

You’ve been thinking about it all night. Ever since the two of you got home from your shift and he shucked his pants off to change. It’s not your fault, really. Not your fault the man has a massive fucking cock that makes a sizable, mouthwatering—and extremely daydream-able—bulge in his boxers.

You’re not usually a weak woman, but. Shit. Nobody would be blaming you for what you’re about to do if they were in the position to do it.

“Let me suck your dick,” you whisper up at him, watching his eyes go wide as he snaps his head left and right to make sure nobody heard that.

The two of you had gone to the last dinner offered at the hall, so it’s pretty dark out, and it’s also been raining for the last hour or so. There are only a few people out other than you since it’s so close to curfew, but Joel’s face still goes a little red at your request. You can’t help but bite your lip to contain your smile.

It really is funny how flustered he gets about you saying something like that when he’s the one who loves to talk about railing you in public. There’s not a single person under the canopy that you stopped under, but he still lowers his voice as he speaks.

“Yes fuckin’ please,” he says through a scoff. “But you couldn’t wait to run that filthy little mouth until we got home?”

You shake your head, smirking at him. You swear you can feel your heart beating against your ribs as you wait for him to understand your request. Your body is going hot from the pure want coursing through your veins.

“I want it now,” you practically whine as you pull on his arm like a petulant child. His eyes go wide again.

“Now?” he asks, obviously a bit shocked at your sudden desperation.

You nod at him, licking your lips.

This time, you catch a small twitch from between his legs before you give him your best doe eyes. You glance at the dark, empty alley a few feet away from you, and his eyes harden. He glances around one more time, clutches your upper arm, and drags you into the concealed space.

“Shit, baby, just be fuckin’ quick about it,” he mutters as he shoves you down to your knees. You smile devilishly up at him as your hands immediately fly to his zipper.

You frantically pull them down, the zip getting stuck halfway due to the massive bulge pushing against the denim. Joel hisses and you whimper as you snag it down quickly, not caring if it breaks or not.

The first time you saw him, you’d had a hard time admitting to yourself that it was the most gorgeous cock you’ve ever laid eyes on. It took a minute for you to understand that he wasn’t a threat, and only then did you allow yourself to appreciate the appendage to the degree that you do now. Since then, you’ve been sure to let Joel know just how much you love it.

It makes your mouth water as you pull it out from his pants. Girthy and long enough to still almost scare you even at half-mast. You know how it fits inside you though, how good it makes you feel when he’s pummeling it into your sore, stretched cunt at full force.

You want it to feel as good as you do, to feel the way your wet, hot mouth can wrap around it and slobber on it until Joel’s thick thighs are shaking with need to spill his seed down your welcoming throat.

The feeling of one of Joel’s hands threading your hair between his fingers and pushing you toward his crotch pulls you out of your daze.

“You gonna suck it or fuckin’ stare at it?”

You shoot Joel an annoyed glance and squeeze him lightly in warning. You give in anyway, however. It really doesn’t take much.

He makes a grunting sound as you take the fat tip of him between your lips, suckling the head and tonguing at his slit as your hand pumps the rest of him. You love the taste of his salty pre-cum on your tongue as you eagerly lap him, trying to get more.

Joel pushes harder on the back of your head and bucks his hips forward—though you’re not sure if that part is voluntary. Your hand moves back to the root of him, holding tightly and pushing him so that he can’t shove himself into your mouth.

You pop your mouth off of him, ignoring the string of spit that keeps you connected to his soaked tip. With heavy lids, you glance up at him to find that he’s staring back at you with a look in his eyes that can only be described as fiery.

“Be patient, old man, I’m trying to enjoy myself.”

Joel scowls at you. “The fuck you mean enjoy yourself? You’re suckin’ my cock,” he snaps.

“Okay, well I happen to really fucking like sucking your cock, Joel, so be. patient.”

He rolls his eyes at you and leans his head back against the brick wall behind him. Satisfied that he’s stopped arguing, you go back to his dick, grabbing it so that the underside of it is facing you.

You lean forward to lick up the entirety of it, coming down to suck and kiss at his balls every couple of strokes. Your head is going a bit fuzzy and your core is throbbing almost painfully with need.

You can’t stop though, you love the feel of his silky skin on your tongue, the way it moves slightly with each pass of your mouth. You moan loudly against him, enough so that it reaches Joel’s ears through the sound of the heavy raindrops pelting the ground and buildings around you.

He pulls sharply on your hair, but is unable to pull you away with how tightly you latch on to his thighs. You squeeze your eyes shut and just about double your efforts to ensure he won’t make you stop.

“Gotta hush, baby. Sound like a fuckin’ whore, moanin’ on my cock like that,” Joel squeezes out at you through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, but you love it,” you pull away just enough to retort.

“Damn fuckin’ right,” Joel smirks back at you as you get back to work. “Little s-slut just for me.”

When you lean forward this time, you take him fully between your lips, swallowing as much as you can to get him as deep as possible. You know you’re drooling, but you can’t find it in you to care, you’re far too drunk on his taste, his scent, the feel of his cock inside your greedy mouth.

Joel groans as you suck harshly, resisting the urge to gag as you hold him in your hot mouth and fondle his balls. God, you can’t fucking get enough. You pull back again once you literally can’t breathe, but not before taking his balls into your mouth once a piece.

“Fucking love your cock, Joel,” you tell him as you stroke him lazily.

“I know you fuckin’ do, darlin’. Why don’t you show him how much? Make him feel good, hm?”

You nod eagerly at him and put your mouth back on him, bobbing your head and using your hand to tightly pump what you’re not able to reach. Joel makes a choked sound and grips your hair so tight that tears spring to your eyes.

The sounds reverberating through the alley are nasty, but it only turns you on more. Between Joel’s bitten-down moans and the sound coming from his dick being slammed down your throat, it’s a fucking symphony in your ears.

“Shit,” Joel breathes from above you. “Want to be inside you, baby.”

You shake your head as much as you’re able. You want his cum down your throat, that’s the whole point of this. Twin tears trail down your messed cheeks with the movement, but you keep going at a quick but steady pace.

He grunts and pulls on you again, and this time, you’re forced to let go.

“Joooel,” you whine, hands going out to grab at him, only for him to squeeze again and hold you firmly in place.

“You fuckin’ quit that, now,” he commands, and you do. Albeit reluctantly and with a furious pout. His cock bobs tauntingly in front of you, throbbing and glistening with your saliva.

“C’mon, princess. Up.”

You continue pouting but do as he says, letting him haul you up so he can pull your pants and underwear down. You yelp, not expecting that part so quickly. The cool, moist air hits your heated core and you clench your thighs, making it more difficult for Joel to spin you around and shove you against the wall.

He’s behind you again in a heartbeat, the tip of his cock breaching your tight hole as he presses his entire front to your back. You keen as he slides into you, the stretch making your toes curl in your boots.

“See?” Joel mutters into your ear. “Shut you up quick, didn’t it?”

You can only nod as he starts to move inside of you, your slick making it easy for him to build up a quick pace. Your fingers spread out on the brick wall as he grips your hips and thrusts harshly up into you, a sheen of sweat starting to cover your body at the force in which he’s using you with.

He hits your g-spot each time, making you huff out weak little moans to mingle with his grunts. His heavy balls slap against you with each thrust, making a lewd sound against your soaked seam and sending shocks atop your swollen clit.

You mewl as your orgasm starts to build, a warmth starting to spread throughout your entire body. And when Joel brings one hand to wrap around your throat, you just about lose it. He squeezes the sides, cutting off your airflow and making your head spin.

You close your eyes and your senses hone in only on the feeling of his cock spearing into you, the way his grip is so hard on your hip that there are sure to be bruises in the morning. Your head rolls back onto his shoulder and he uses the opportunity to nuzzle your jaw.

“So s-soft ‘n’ wet for me, ain't ya? Like soaked fuckin’ silk.”

You whimper as much as you’re able, your body starting to shake as you get closer to the edge. Joel lets his fingers ease up from the grip he has on your throat, allowing air to sweep back into your lungs, and you explode.

You moan obscenely as you cream on his cock, his hand moving to your clit to thumb tight circles and prolong your pleasure. Your hands move from the wall to grip hard onto his forearms.

“That’s a good girl,” he growls into your ear.

“M–Please, Joel,” you whine. “Let me swallow–I–”

Joel’s dark laugh startles you, but he moves to give you what you want. He pulls his cock out of you, and you suddenly feel empty. You whine despite yourself, but are quickly distracted again by the way he spins you around and shoves you back to your knees, your pants still pulled down around your ankles.

You watch him dazedly as he fists his drenched cock and then guides it back to your swollen lips. You taste yourself on him as he pumps his hips and glides onto your tongue. He places a hand on the back of your head again, helping you take him.

“There you go, you fuckin’ cum-hungry little slut.”

You moan, and you can tell that’s his undoing as the vibrations travel through his length. He shudders and groans into the empty alley as his balls tug up and he spills into your mouth. You greedily drink him down, gripping his thighs and closing your eyes as you focus on not spilling a single drop.

He pushes your head down until he hits the back of your throat, waiting for you to gag before he slowly pulls all the way back out. You’re both sweaty and panting but you still open your mouth and tilt your head up for approval that you swallowed every bit of his cum. Joel watches you with parted lips and nods.

“Good job, princess,” he tells you, and you smile.

“Alright, baby, I gotta get you home before curfew,” he says after a moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up so it doesn’t look like we just fucked in a damn alley.”

You grin at him and lift your arms for him to help you up again. You don’t tell him that it’s pointless to clean you up since you’ll just end up in the same state once you get home. If there’s one thing that will never dwindle in your relationship, it’s the insatiable hunger that the two of you harbor for one another—and all the messes and mischief that comes with it.

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leclercstarrs · 9 months

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childhood friends, daryl dixon.

summary: in which you reunite with your childhood friend, only for him to underestimate your value in the current state of the world.

warnings: fem!reader, surgeon!reader, typical twd violence, and not proof read atm.

notes: request from anon! i put a small twist on this request so i hope you enjoy! also i really need to start proof reading my work right away cause i feel like there might be tons of little embarrassing mistakes i haven’t noticed so let me know if that’s a common thing on all my ‘not yet proof read’ fics because if so i’m going to go back and fix them, ty bbies!

One thing Daryl Dixon still remembers about his life before the dead started walking, is his childhood best friend. The girl that he always went to when he was upset, the girl that always knew how to cheer him up, and that same girl that eventually moved away before the two of them started high school, leaving him heartbroken as her and her family drove off to go live in a small community far away from him, not looking back.

Whenever the memories of that girl cloud his mind, he feels pathetic, quickly reminding himself that she’s probably a walker now, having absolutely no memory of him or her own childhood.

However, the one possibility that sounded insane to him, happens to be the reality. That girl is you, who’s younger self hated her parents for ripping her away from everything and everyone she’s known since birth to move to Alexandria, but now is extremely grateful for them, as she has a safe place to stay in during the world going to shit.

“(Y/N).” A loud voice calls you from outside your house, causing you to walk downstairs and open the door. “Deanna, what’s up? It’s like three in the morning.” You sigh, leaning on the door frame, wearing fluffy slippers and a pair of shorts with a tank top. “We have a group that just arrived, some of them need medical attention and check ups.” The older lady explains, bring your attention to the group of people standing in the middle of the road with Aaron. “Alright, one second.” You nod, grabbing your jacket off of the coat rack and quickly putting it on, then following Deanna towards the group.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is (Y/N) (L/N), she’s our nurse and she’s going to do routine check ups on everyone.” The leader of your community explains to the new residents, causing everyone to turn to face you. “Um, I’m gonna check the children first.” You say, a warm smile on your face, hoping to relieve the tension between everyone. “(Y/N)?” Someone says, causing your eyes to follow their voice, being greeted by the sight of someone you recognize. “Daryl?” You gasp. His eyes are wide as you run up to him and hug him, “Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever! I didn’t even know if you were…” You don’t finish your sentence, assuming he knows what you were going to say. “Yeah, same.” He breathes out, warming up to the hug and wrapping his arms around you. “You know her?” Another man cuts in, causing you to pull away from Daryl. “She was my friend way back, before high school.” He explains to the other man, “Sorry, who are you?” You ask. “Rick, Rick Grimes.” The man, who you now know as Rick, hesitantly replies. “Oh, nice to meet you. These are your children, yes?” You glance at the young girl he’s holding and the older boy that’s next to him. “Yes.” He nods. “Okay, Do you mind if I take them to the infirmary and check for bites or injuries? It’s a typical procedure here.” You explain. He doesn’t respond. “You can of course come with us.” You add, hoping it convinced him, “Yeah, sure.” He agrees this time. “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” You softly smile at Daryl before turning around, “Come with me, please.” You instruct Rick and his family. “(Y/N), let me know if there’s any issues.” Deanna stops you before you start walking, a concerned look in her eyes. You raise an eyebrow, slightly confused at her worried state, “Of course.” You continue walking.

“Okay, Daryl, your turn.” You walk out of the infirmary room, gesturing to the man that’s sitting on the porch of the building, waiting for the other member’s of his group do get done with their checkups. “Mk.” He gets up, following you back into the room, closing the door behind him. “So, just sit here.” You tap on the chair in the middle of the room, “I’m basically just asking you questions about how you feel and checking your temperature, things like that.” You say your usually ‘speech’, something you usually do in hopes of comforting new group members. “Alright.” He sits down, watching as you shuffle around the room, grabbing a pen and clipboard off of one of the counters. “First question, do you have any bites or scratches?” You ask him. “That’s a stupid question. That’s why these people got you askin’?” He scoffs. You bluntly stare at him, “It’s procedure.” The man shakes his head, “Naw.” You check the ‘no’ box on the paperwork. “Okay, common symptoms of being turned include a fever, so I’m going to check your temperature now.” You plsce your clipboard to the side, getting off of the small stool and walking towards a cabinet filled with medical equipment. “Ya even a real nurse?” Daryl asks. “I went to university, then graduated, then became a top surgeon, so yeah, I have most of the skills to help people.” You roll your eyes, turning around and sitting back down on the stool in front of him. “Ahh, big shot.” He hums as you check his temperature. “No fever, you’re hopefully, not infected.” You sarcastically smile. “Now, you and your friend Rick are coming on a supply run with me tomorrow morning, so go get some sleep.” You stand up and gesture for him to leave the infirmary. “Your coming on a supply run? I don’t think you should, it’s dangerous.” He gives you a weird look. “I think I can handle it.” You laugh his comment off. “Based off the rest of these people, y’all don’t stand a chance if these walks come down, not without my group.” He adds. “I can handle myself. Some of the other residents might not have as much skill as your group, but I assure you, I got just as much experience as you. I’ll be a great addition to the supply runs. Anyways, I usually do them, at least before you guys got here.” You glare at him, roughly closing the medical cabinet. He doesn’t say anything, worry and doubt in his mind as he leaves the room, shutting the door and leaving you alone to clean up.

“Morning.” You walk up to the two men that are standing just outside of the gate, talking to each other in low whispers.“Good morning.” Rick turns around when he hears your voice. You nod, not bothering to make any more conversation, considering your last conversation involved Daryl undermining your capability of navigating the state of the world outside of Alexandria. “Close the gates.” You yell back to the lady on watch, you think her name’s Rosita. “Got it.” She starts closing the gate as the three of you walk away from the safe haven, heading towards a nearby town.

“We need more baby food, for, uh, Judith.” You mumble, reading the list on the small crumpled paper you’re holding. “Daryl.” Rick’s panicked voice sends shivers down you spine, causing you to look up with a concerned look on your face, greeted by the sight of a small group of walkers inching closer to you and the two men. “Shit.” You huff. The three of you quickly get your knives ready, moving away from each other and towards the walkers. While Rick and Daryl deal with the rest of the dead, you deal with about five of your own. Plunging your knife into each of their skulls, you quickly kill all of them, leaving blood splatters all over your clothes. “Am I capable of going on supply runs, now?” You turn to face Daryl, opening your mouth to continue, but quickly running towards him when you notice a walker push him over and fall on top of his body. “Rick!” You call the other man’s name, who just finished dealing with another walker, to get his attention. He turns around and is quick to follow you towards the other man. However, you get there before him, standing over the Walker and jamming your knife into the back of it’s head. Letting out a tired sigh, you wipe some more blood off of your forehead, then shoving the body of the walker off of Daryl. “Thanks.” He manages to breathe out. “Mhm.” You nod. You know it’s stubborn to still be pissed about what he said to you when he almost got eaten alive, but considering you saved his life despite his lack of faith in your survival skills, it felt too ironic.

Walking up and down the aisles of the small and abandoned grocery store, Daryl follows you around like a small puppy. “Why are you following me around? Go follow Rick.” You shake your head, tossing another box of old pasta into your bag. “Rick’s in the other store, I wanted to shop in this store.” Daryl scratches the back of his neck, attempting to create an excuse to walk with you, or really, follow behind you. “Sure.” You roll your eyes. “Hold this.” You abruptly stop and pass your bag to Daryl, the man taking it from you and watching as you stand up on your toes to reach a different box of pasta that’s on the highest shelf. “Here.” You drop the pasta box down, Daryl managing to catch it with your bag. Standing back down, you take the bag back from him, before moving to walk down the next aisle. “I’m sorry, alright? I know you’re capable of handling yourself, I just hadn’t seen you in so long and all those other residents have barely even seen the outside world since moving to that place.” He huffs, grabbing your arm before you can continue to sulk around the store. “I haven’t seen you in, I don’t even know how long at this point, and one of the first real conversations we had, involved you making a snap judgement and regarding me as useless aside from being a nurse.” You look at him, your tone harsh. “I’m sorry, how many times I gotta say it?” Daryl scoffs. “I want you to admit that you were wrong.” You cross your arms, holding them up your chest, your mouth pressed into a firm line. “Fine.” He pauses, “I was wrong, you’re not useless, I never even meant to say that.” He continues. His voice is low like usual, but his facial expression tells a different story, a soft look in his eyes with a small but genuine smile forming. “You’re forgiven.” You hold yourself back from smiling, “I guess.” You shrug. “You’re more stubborn than me, huh?” He laughs. “Always been that way, remember when I didn’t talk to you for a full day because you took my ice cream?” You playfully bump his arm with your arm, “Oh, I remember.” He says.

Daryl never thought he’d see you again, but now that he’s standing right in front of you, the two of you laughing and making jokes, he can start to feel those certain butterflies he felt in his stomach from when he was younger. The butterflies that only showed up whenever he was near you.

#this doesn’t exactly follow the show plot cus i wanted to change some things #this is mad long but it was hard to fit everything into one fic #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n

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wittlesissyb4by · 3 months

Text

"What's the matter?" Stephanie asked, coming back upstairs. "Everyone's here, it's time for brunch. Why are you taking so long to get out of bed?"

Oh shit. I forgot people were coming over today. I slept in, but that wasn't why I was taking a while to get up. Right as I slipped from dream space and back into reality, my brain eventually woke up enough to realize something was wrong.

Stephanie read my face almost instantly. "It happened again, didn't it?" she sighed. Giving me that accusatory, exasperated look.

I clutched the sheets to my shoulders. But that was way too obvious. I shouldn't have done that.

She ripped the blankets down, tearing them from my grip.

"Well..." she said, sighing and somewhat smiling to herself, almost as if she expected this.

I tried to turn away, to hide my stained undies, but there was no hiding the little puddle soaked into the sheets.

"Another wet dream?!" She exclaimed incredulously.

It was my 3rd one this week. They'd been happening more and more lately. It wasn't too much of an inconvenience. It was just extremely embarrassing, and Stephanie liked to press the issue.

"You really can't control yourself, can you??"

"It's not my fault!" I whined, trying to salvage some dignity in my soaked, sticky boxers. "You've had me locked up for weeks! And your teasing isn't helpin--"

"Oh don't try to blame this on me!" She scoffed, smirking, "You wanted this. You wanted to do this whole 'chastity play' thing. You told me not to let you out no matter how much you beg. I'm just going by what you said..."

I scrunched up my face. She was right. I hated that she was right. This was literally what I asked for, but it sounded way more fun in my head...

But I also didn't think she would take to it so quickly. She really seemed to enjoy teasing me. Giving me little tickles in the crotch as I walked by. Whispering seductive, dirty things in my ear while we were out at dinner. Even taking the cage off every now and then to edge me several times before putting ice cubes to it so she could stuff it back in. It was torture, she knew it, and she loved it.

"Besides..." she continued, "why would I need to unlock you when you're getting plenty of release into the sheets?

I pouted at that, but there wasn't much I could retort with.

"Well..." she sighed, pulling her hair hair up to tie it back. "I think you know what this means..."

It could mean any number of things. When the hair went up, it was her entering 'dominant' mode.

"You're gonna have to go back in diapers."

My stomach plummeted. Diapers?? Not those again...

"I'm sorry," she said, reading my face, not sounding sorry at all, "but this is not the first time you've been having accidents in bed. Remember what happened after New Year's?"

I remember. Of course I remember. She wouldn't let me forget it. I got a little too drunk to the point that I was incoherent enough to miss the entire countdown. The next day, I woke up to wet sheets. She was furious, not just about the piss-stained linens, but the fact that I neglected her almost the whole night.

For the rest of that week, I had to spend the night in a big pair of fluffy adult diapers. I didn't know they made them that big, or that childish.

"Honey please..." I begged, "Don't you think this is a little excessive...?"

"Absolutely not." She said firmly. "Until you can learn to control yourself better, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't have to wear diapers all day in case you have another 'accident'!"

I winced at the words. "All day??"

"Yes." She said, "As in 'daylight'. Night time too. I'd much rather wake up to your wet diaper than to wet sheets."

My mind was reeling, but apparently the matter was decided because she headed to the closet. Her ponytail swished back and forth as she dug through. Finally, she found what she was looking for. She held the ridiculous white, crinkly diaper up with a huge smile.

"It's diapy time!!" she cooed.

"But Steph!" I whined as she yanked my sticky boxers down, and lifted my legs up by the ankles so she could slide the diaper underneath.

"You just said everyone is downstairs!!"

"Mhmm.." she said, pulling the diaper up over my cage. "What's your point?" she asked, taping up each side.

"They're...they're..."

"I'll let you wear pants." She said, reading my thoughts. "But if you keep whining, I'll send you down there in nothing but your diaper and a t-shirt."

That shut me up real quick. She finished taping up the diaper, making several passes to ensure it was nice and tight, tucking in the folds to ensure there wouldn't be leaks. I tested the bulk, cringing at how loud they were between my legs.

"Try not to move to much," she smirked, "You don't want them to hear the crinkles, do you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Another random place too: @wittle5i55ybaby Just in case.

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1d1195 · 10 months

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Protection I

Okay I did the quickest of Google searches to get some of this info, please don't hold it against me. I have no idea what I’m doing as usual.

Hope you enjoy, I'm looking forward to writing more of it.

5.2k words

“Y’could’ve jus’ asked,” he called from behind her. “S’dangerous t’walk alone this late at night.”

She rolled her eyes, not that he could see it. “No one is going to try and kidnap me for political purposes on a Wednesday night while I get a drink with friends,” she told him.

“Love, s’not what I meant,” he said gently.

Harry was ready.

He ironed a white button-down shirt and paired it with a blue tie. He put on a grey suitcoat over it to match the slacks he picked out along with black dress shoes that he had long since broken in. In fact, he thought he could probably run a marathon in them if necessary.

He looked over his freshly shaven face, rubbing his jaw with a face lotion his sister got him for his birthday last year. He used the mirror to fix a few astray pieces of hair that refused to sit neatly but not perfectly flat on his head. Part of him wished he didn’t volunteer to do this because his stomach was flipping with anxiety. Sure, he was used to this. Used to the nerves and the first day jitters. It was a good job and was hopefully going to be a great way to see the country. While his English accent made him stick out a bit, it also helped him blend a bit into the background; no one would think that Harry was a special agent there to protect a family member of the US cabinet.

Plus, he was doing Niall a huge favor. Niall was the one that got Harry a job with the Diplomatic Security Service in the first place, so he owed it to Niall to at least try. Make his friend look good and not ruin his reputation. One of Niall’s favorite coworkers was the one that trained Harry to be an agent for the DSS, since Niall wasn’t one. But Niall was the one that had heard horror stories of the girl that wreaked havoc on many of the agents put in place to protect her. Going toe to toe with her meant a more...fulfilling job...after a couple months. At least that’s what Niall had heard and shared with Harry.

“I don’t know what her issue is Harry. But you’re all but DSS’s last hope,” he said. Niall didn’t have to take a round against her. He wasn’t an agent in the protection division. He sat behind a desk going over paperwork. Frequently the paperwork assigning and reassigning the girl’s security detail. But he knew Harry needed a job and he was happy to recommend him. He vouched for him, but Niall was certain the agency would have taken someone off the street and thrown them in the ring at this stage in the game.

Harry was on the younger side. Close to her age, so he had been told in the interview. Maybe that would help. He seemed unfazed. It was just a job. She was just a girl. They had to protect her. But through all he heard, it didn’t sound like they really wanted to protect her all that much anymore.

How much trouble could a twenty-four-year-old graduate biochemistry student get up to?

Niall wished him luck as Harry was debriefed once more about his job. Keep an eye on her, run checks on people she interacts with, make sure she doesn’t die. “Her father is Secretary of State,” they reminded Harry.

Harry nodded. “Got it.”

He took the address that was sent to him into his phone’s GPS and followed the directions to the apartment complex in the small, undercover black SUV issued to him. There was bulletproof glass protecting him from the outside world and tinted windows hiding him through the glass. His mum messaged him.

Good luck, honey bun!

He smirked. Harry may have been twenty-nine, but his Mum’s messages made him feel like a little kid. He adored her, all the way across the pond recognizing what time it was so she could make sure to send him a good luck text as she always had; first day of university, first real job, or even just a trip to the dentist (Harry hated the dentist).

The little apartment complex was inconspicuous. There wasn’t anything special about it, just a brick building with several floors—it couldn’t have been more than 8 apartments. A buzzer door and buttons along the side. The code was sent to him to let himself in.

It’s just a girl. He reminded himself.

Harry took the stairs to the top and fourth floor. It gave him time to calm his nerves and plan his approach based on the way he heard the tales from coworkers. Maybe he would try and befriend her? Harry was down to be friends with her if she wanted. Or maybe that was a bad idea. Maybe he should just try and out-stubborn her. Harry and Gemma used to have contests about who could hold their breath longest when they were young. Harry wasn’t against passing out in the name of winning.

The final steps to her apartment were silent. The current agent at the door looked at Harry with relief. He saluted him, muttered good luck, and hurried back down. Surprised by the immediate departure, Harry gently knocked on the door. The man didn’t even confirm that Harry was his relief. “DSS,” he said quietly to the door.

It took a moment, but at once the door was out of the way. She was shorter than Harry—which arguably wasn’t hard to do with his six-foot frame. Her hair was pulled back by a clip at the back of her head, some strands falling from it to frame her round face. She had a freckle on her brow line and Harry found it unbelievably cute and surprised himself that it was one of the first things he noticed. The space between her eyebrows was pinched together and Harry wanted to smooth it out because even though she was going to be a pain in his ass, she was adorable. Her eyes scanned him quickly and he hoped despite the stories he had heard that she would at least appreciate his professionalism. Her lips were pressed together—not hard, just...resting against one another. Harry was quick to realize it was the least professional thing he could think of: staring at her mouth.

Mum always re-quoted that the eyes were windows to the soul. It was always the first thing Harry noted when he pursued a girl. He loved the idea of gazing into her eyes and trying to find out more about her just through her irises. Maybe if he looked into hers, he would understand why a short little thing like her could scare an entire division of special agents with varying degrees of combat training or intelligence operations.

Her lips pursed into a mocking smile, and she spoke. “Oh, I get it. Send someone young so I relate to them. Someone that will understand my attitude,” she rolled her eyes. Harry raised his eyebrows at her in surprise. Not even a hello. No introduction. Feisty. Right away.

“I’m sorry?”

“Daddy dearest only sent you here because the last seven agents couldn’t handle the paperwork that I made them do. I escape a lot.”

Harry sighed. “Thought y’were gonna be easy,” it was a fib. He knew she was going to be difficult but maybe if he played the part she wouldn’t be as tough on him.

“Nope,” she said petulantly, like that was going to piss Harry off. He assumed it worked on the others that came before him.

Harry could play the petulant game. He was the younger sibling after all. He nodded. “Got it. Well. M’name is Harry. I won’t bother you. I’ll be here if you’d like t’get t’know me. Or when y’leave,” he pulled the door shut and stood beside it. Hands behind his back, listening to the silence inside the door.

“Is this a joke?” She asked through the wood after a full minute. He didn’t respond. The door opened.

“Going somewhere?” Harry asked without looking at her. He could see her in his peripheral.

“No,” she looked at Harry curiously. “You’re not going to...try?” She wondered.

“Try what?” He asked innocently staring at the wall opposite her door.

She shook her head and sighed. “Uh... I’m sorry,” she said awkwardly, uncomfortableness rang in her voice. Harry turned to her, honestly a bit surprised at how readily she apologized. Didn’t seem like something that would be in her repertoire. “Do you want to come in?” She asked. See? Harry thought. She could be perfectly reasonable. “I have seats... you don’t have to stand out here the whole time,” she murmured.

“Thanks, love,” he said politely and followed her through the doorway. He dropped his bag into a seat closest to the door. It just had the department issued computer inside it.

The space was homey. Again, he was surprised by the contrast of the stories he heard versus the sunny outward appearance. He expected rage which he wasn’t sure how that would translate exactly into interior design, but he thought it would be messy. The only hint of a mess was a spot on the coffee table littered with papers and notebooks and a laptop. The grey sofa was also covered with papers and a plain black backpack.

He did not anticipate it being a pretty place. It could rival a florist shop. There were prints of flowers hung on a white mat with black frames at regular spaced intervals. Vinelike garlands decorated with an array of pink flowers of all sorts draped along the slate blue (nearly grey) painted walls near the top of each of the three walls making up the big room—almost like a bordered edge. The fourth wall was the back of the kitchen and contained various appliances leaving no room for flowers, but Harry thought she probably tried when she moved in anyway.

The whole room was open: the sitting room, the dining area, and the kitchen. There were two loveseat sofas, one a modern grey facing the TV. The other perpendicular to the grey one; a solid navy blue that sat in front of three windows. Each window had a sheer grey curtain that matched the sofa, draped with more vines of flowers across all three windows of course. Between the TV and the grey sofa was a grey coffee table and besides the papers and notebooks, there was of course a little vase with pink sunflowers. A large bookshelf was to the left of her TV stand.

In the back corner beside the door was a round dining table and four mismatched dining chairs where Harry had dropped his bag. Another little vase sat in the middle of the table with more pink flowers. The kitchen smelled yummy. Like bacon. That was as much as he could see from the entryway. There was a short little hall but hidden behind a wall he couldn’t see around but assumed a bedroom and a bathroom were around there.

“S’a very nice place,” he murmured.

She was still staring at him as if he just said he liked to eat handfuls of dirt and drink from the river. “Thank you,” she said kindly after a beat of silence. Like she thought maybe it was a trick. “I...I don’t really have any plans tonight. I’ll be studying for an exam I have tomorrow...you could honestly probably leave if you wanted to,”

He thought she sounded genuine but given all the stories, he wasn’t sure. “I’d rather stay put. I can go back in the hall if that would make you more comfortable,” he suggested. “But may I see the rest of the place or would y’rather I wait till later? When you’re less busy?” He asked.

She blinked almost surprised. Harry imagined she wasn’t used to privacy but since he wanted her to like him, he thought respecting her boundaries was going to be the easiest way to do it. Most of her previous details were older. They probably had children of their own around her age or younger and thought treating her like one of their own and bossing her around would be easy. In all the meetings Harry attended and interviews and explanations of the girl before him not once did they seem to note she was an adult.

“Oh...uh...yeah,” she mumbled and gestured for him to walk down the hall. He was right: a bedroom and a bathroom, but he was surprised to find a second bedroom. It didn’t seem like the space was big enough from the outside. She opened all the doors. “This one’s the spare,” she said and showed him the room with nothing but a bed and small three drawer dresser and a chair that looked like it belonged in a college dorm in the corner. There was a door leading to a closet (he assumed). Compared to the main room, it was lackluster given there wasn’t a single flower in the room.

Along the same wall was the bathroom. The room was the same slate grey as the sitting room. The shower curtain was white, with a pattern of pink flowers. The fuzzy bathmat and hand towels matched the pink flowers. A little flowerpot was placed on a shelf hanging above the toilet, but Harry could have predicted at this point that pink flowers would be in the little pot. A chic gold brushed mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet hung over the sink with the same gold brushed faucet fixtures. A linen closet opposite the light switch right as you walked in, no door to it so he could see her well-stocked array of bathroom necessities, extra towels, and cleaning supplies.

“My room,” she shrugged and pushed the door open. Another bookshelf was draped with green vines. Fascinating. She liked to read a lot, it seemed. A long dresser was beneath the window along the back wall. A nightstand with a biochemistry textbook and a copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest was closest to the door near the top of her bed. A weird pair of books for late night reading, he thought. Harry would have to pick the non-textbook one up at the bookstore later. Find another way to relate to her. This room was painted a light blue—so light it was almost white. More vines and flowers. Her bed was made neatly. This time slate-blue-almost-grey color again. Once more pink flowers.

“Are y’a botanist?” He asked, turning back for the main room. He didn’t want to spend a lot of time staring at her room and make her uncomfortable.

She smirked, closing the door following behind him. “Just love color and flowers,” she shrugged. “The grey makes it pop,” she explained. “But I wanted a little bluer for my bedroom. Didn’t want it to seem all dreary.” It was the furthest from dreary.

“S’lovely.”

“Well thanks,” she repeated, just as graciously as before.

She sat on the floor in front of the coffee table. “You can make yourself at home, there’s some drinks in the fridge—non-alcoholic of course, since you’re on the job, but I wouldn’t tell anyway,” she murmured and began scribbling on her papers almost instantly.

Harry felt deeply surprised. He pulled his laptop out and checked the emails. The internal messaging system alerted him that Niall had sent a message. How is she?

Fine. He responded.

Harry’s phone vibrated in his pocket immediately. It was Niall. “FINE?” He asked in shock.

Harry shrugged. “Yes.”

Niall released a breath through his lips in surprise. “I can’t believe it. Usually she has people begging for reassignment after five minutes.”

Harry looked over at the girl working at the coffee table. He looked back at his laptop. “Don’t know,” he murmured.

“You can tell whoever you’re talking to that I’m not the bitch everyone makes me out to be if you’re fucking nice to me,” she grumbled.

Harry smirked. “I like her,” he said loud enough for her to hear. But she didn’t pause at all. Nor did she stray from her position or what she was doing to notice Harry’s kind comment.

She left Harry in the main room. He would stay until midnight when some woman would take over the detail. She didn’t hate the woman. She at least allowed her privacy when she wanted it. But she was surprised how much she liked Harry and they’d hardly interacted beyond an exchange of pleasantries. Him leaving in a couple hours seemed unfair.

Harry already had her phone number and he told her he would send her a message, so she had his in case of an emergency. “Not sure what emergency exists in my bedroom,” she muttered. He smirked and shrugged.

“Protocol, love,” he said. So he was one of those. She thought.

She liked his accent. Honestly, she liked everything about Harry. He was gorgeous. It was shocking. There was a moment where she forgot she was supposed to be agitated by her security detail when he introduced himself. It was almost instinctive that her hand wanted to reach out and play with his brown locks that curved every which way around his head. His eyes were this piercing green that she felt the desire to repaint her room the same emerald color. She nearly had to crane her neck to see all six feet of him. And in a simple suit, he was just...beautiful.

But then he pulled the door shut not taking her shit for even a second. Her brain felt out of sorts as she tried to reconcile the attitude, she wanted to have against the one she felt. Not once did someone just back off her. Maybe having someone closer to her age was the trick. But she didn’t want a security detail. Right?

Harry was so utterly polite, complimenting her place, respecting her boundaries as much as possible given his position. Ugh. He was ruining all the hard work she had put in to be a bitch toward DSS.

Fortunately, her phone vibrated as she closed the door to her bedroom. It was a friend from one of her classes telling her they were having a round of drinks before their final exam in the morning. She didn’t want to go. It was ten o’clock and her brain was exhausted from the marathon studying all afternoon and evening with her only breaks introducing herself to Harry and when she ordered them pizza.

Harry insisted on paying. Another weird notion from him. She never really ordered food for her security details, but she always did offer, and she always paid. Her mother taught her to have manners and be polite, even if she was mad—it would make her more amicable. However, she thought a lot of her previous agents assumed she was trying to poison them when she ordered them food. Harry didn’t talk much to her while they ate. He asked her what she was studying and if she felt confident about the exam.

She worked her ass off to be successful in her classes. She was one of the top students, she knew it. But everyone else saw it as the Secretary of State’s doing, not her own. But yes, she was confident about the exam.

But now it was 10:04 and she wanted to be included. She didn’t want to come off as “Daddy’s little princess” and the goody-two-shoes she was accustomed to being. Biting her lip, she pressed her ear to her door. She couldn’t hear Harry at all. Harry seemed cooler than her other details, she could probably just ask him to take her and hang back as far as humanly possible. He told her he was going to read the files on the people she surrounded herself with while she went to sleep.

He would be back first thing in the morning for a full day of watching her every movement. She quietly changed into an easy, comfy outfit. Jeans, t-shirt, her most comfortable broken-in Keds. She glanced at the mirror on the back of her closet and put on a couple dabs of concealer around her eyes and a few swipes of mascara. It was one round of drinks; she would be back before Harry left his post and she wouldn’t even have to worry about locking up her apartment. She shoved her ID and her credit card into the back of her phone case and then put it in her back pocket.

Carefully, she opened the window pausing around the part that always groaned in the humidity from the outside August air. She quietly pulled the screen in and laid it on her bed. With cat-like soft feet, she got out onto the platform of the fire escape. Closing the window behind her, once more minding the swelled portion. She made her way down the fire escape. The walk to the bar was less than half a mile.

As she turned the corner of the building to walk along the streetlamp-lit roads she was pushed suddenly and almost violently against the building. She nearly lost her footing, but the person kept her upright and was surprisingly gentle with her before she slammed into the bricks. Her lungs inhaled, ready to let out a scream, but a hand was covering her mouth at the same time causing her heart rate to skyrocket. “Seriously?” Harry’s accent cut through her terrified mind.

The terror seeped out of her mind as anger coursed through her. Maybe the close in age thing wasn’t going to be a good plan after all. If this was one of her other agents, they wouldn’t have known she was gone until she had finished her drink and was walking back home. She shoved his hand from her mouth, and she glared at him. Her body was shaking with her fight or flight response and a lot rage. “What?” She snapped and started marching down the road.

“Y’could’ve jus’ asked,” he called from behind her. “S’dangerous t’walk alone this late at night.”

She rolled her eyes, not that he could see it. “No one is going to try and kidnap me for political purposes on a Wednesday night while I get a drink with friends,” she told him.

“Love, s’not what I meant,” he said gently. The kindness in his tone made her attitude waver again. But she was mad that he caught her. That never happened. She didn’t want to be sneakier. She thought she might actually like Harry. He even said he liked her to whoever he was on the phone with—that made her heart warm despite how she pretended not to hear. If Harry liked her, it would be much harder to maintain the isolated, bitchy attitude she gave all the other security agents.

“What’s there to worry about? Someone shoving me against a building and covering my mouth?” She grumbled.

“I didn’t want t’scare you; I was jus’ trying t’show you that someone could’ve snuck up,” he was keeping his distance from her, but she listened intently for the practically soundless footsteps. The only reason she could hear him was because it rained and made the little scratchy pebbles and dirt crunch under his feet ever so slightly.

“By scaring me,” she stated, still not looking at him.

He sighed. “M’sorry. I thought...” he trailed off. She didn’t make him finish his sentence. She thought too—he knew the stories of her, but he thought he would be different. They walked probably two tenths of a mile in silence. “M’sorry, love,” he repeated. “S’my first day. Didn’t want you t’get hurt.”

She sighed. He did sound remorseful. And she still kind of liked him. Mostly because as tragic as it sounded, he seemed to be more worried about her safety as a female walking dark streets and not a political official’s daughter. “It’s alright,” she mumbled. “I should have just asked,” she agreed a bit begrudgingly. “Just figured it was one drink and I’d be home before you left.”

He didn’t say anything. She stopped in her tracks. She could see the sign for the bar where her friends were down the long street before her. She turned to Harry. He looked relieved.

They gazed at each other a moment. Harry would be a worth adversary, she thought to herself. It was like he heard her thoughts because his next words almost tried to refute the idea. “I don’t like t’do paperwork,” he told her those pretty green eyes focused on her intently. He was serious. His jaw flexed tightly.

She smirked. “No promises.”

She spotted Harry at the end of the stairway, leaning against the wall as she exited the building where she had taken her exam. He had to be sweating in the suit slacks and button down—even if the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His left arm had several tattoos lining his arm while the right only had one or two. He wasn’t wearing a tie today nor a suit coat—she wanted to tell him she didn’t really give a shit what he wore, but he seemed the professional type. Being the middle of August, it was hot as could be. He didn’t seem to care, glancing every which way through a pair of black sunglasses. She couldn’t see his eyes and she suddenly realized she missed seeing the green even though she’d only gotten one good look at them.

Unfortunately, in all her ogling she missed the last two steps sending her straight into someone in front of her and she fell to the ground on the hot sidewalk, scraping her knee like a child. Fortunately, as a biochem major, she had to wear pants whenever setting foot in the lab so the yoga pants she wore—while hot for a summer day—probably saved her just a bit from a worse cut. It did cause a few tears in the fabric and her knee would surely bruise.

Harry started to rush over but the guy she bumped into helped her back to standing. “You okay there?” He asked.

Harry stood back a few feet as the guy helped. “Uh...yeah. Sorry, I missed the last step,” she said with a slight awkward laugh. She brushed the dirt from her hands that were also scraped as well as the length of her forearm since she was allowed to wear short sleeves (especially since it was exam day).

“Oh hey! You’re—” As soon as she realized he recognized her she closed her eyes and sighed.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Sorry,” she hurried off, limping slightly as she realized she really smacked her knee and the way it scraped definitely made it sore to bend. She didn’t want to be recognized. She wanted to be herself and not have this political precursor follow her everywhere.

They were making their way back toward the SUV Harry had parked nearby when he had dropped her off this morning so she wouldn’t be late. Good luck he had called out when she closed the door behind her. “Are y’alright?” Harry’s accent was a few paces behind her. She felt embarrassed so she didn’t turn around. She nodded.

“Yeah. Just a scrape. Want to go home and take a nap in the AC.”

“Can’t argue with y’there,” he chuckled.

She smirked; glad he couldn’t see her. “You don’t have to wear a suit all the time,” she told him. “It’s a thousand degrees out. You’ll die of a heat stroke before you can protect me.”

He seemed to ignore her joke, but she was still a bit genuinely concerned he would overheat. “How was your exam?” He asked.

She turned finally and looked at him. He stopped short, still a few steps behind her. They probably looked odd beneath the shaded trees. Both dressed not for a summer day. Harry looked threatening, surprisingly. He didn’t when she saw him in her apartment or even when he walked her home at eleven last night. He looked like a regular guy even if he was overdressed in a half suit. She noted the gun in its holster on his hip and she wondered how good of a shot he was. Not because she thought he would be bad or because she thought he would ever need to shoot it in her presence but because she was genuinely curious about him. She still had her backpack on of course. Her knee bent slightly with a tear in her pants. Quite the pair.

His glasses were still covering his eyes, hiding probably the most assured way to understand what he was thinking. But despite all she thought about the DSS, Harry was nice. Even if it had only been the inside of 24 hours.

It was shame she was a bitch to her security detail.

“Uh...easy,” she said. “A lot of my friends complain about studying and it sucks, but obviously it was worth it,” she shrugged. “I only struggled with one long response question, and I knew that I would going into it,” she explained.

“S’good, m’happy for you,” a little smile twinged at his lips and he sounded so genuine. It surprised her. Like he was really taking an interest in her.

But then she remembered this was his job and he probably couldn’t give two shits about her or exam. She tilted her head and scanned the man before her as if that negative thought would reveal itself. Of course, it didn’t. The glasses were hiding his true emotions. She would have to figure out Harry later. It was too hot, even in the shade.

Silently she turned on her heel looking at the air-conditioned oasis of that SUV. Harry opened the door for her, something she was not used to before closing her neatly and safely inside. Once Harry opened his door she asked her question. “Can we get coffee?” She asked.

“Coffee?”

“My treat,” she smirked.

“I thought you wanted a nap?”

“Yeah, but I have to work later and if you drink coffee before a nap, the coffee will kick in right when you wake up.”

He tilted his head at her before he pulled into the road. “Didn’t know y’have a job.”

“It’s remote,” she shrugged.

“Oh.”

“So coffee?”

“If that’s what you want, love.”

Harry drove in silence to the closest coffee shop he could find, and she got out of the car quickly before stopping at the driver’s window. “Can I get you anything?” She asked kindly.

“Uh...an iced tea would be nice,” he said curiously.

She was not the bitch everyone made her out to be. “Sure,” she said and rushed inside. Harry kept the window rolled down and could see her perfectly through the window. It took no more than ten minutes, and she was back at the car handing him iced tea through his open window before she got into the car. Harry wasn’t really sure what to make of her. But he was sure that he liked her. She was funny. In her own sort of way. He watched her sip her drink as she settled back into the car.

It would be fun.

Protecting her.

“I could send you a picture if you’d like to stare at me longer,” she blinked in excess at him. Fluttering her pretty eyelashes as her quick witted tone pierced his thoughts.

Right?

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

Protection tag list: @youcouldstartacult

Please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :) If you would like for me to start a taglist for this series, please let me know as well!

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shanastoryteller · 9 months

Note

Happy pride!!

Fem MXY WWX pls!!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

They're back to riding, only a couple hours away from Jin Tower, and Wei Wuxian is happy to be off his feet, but he can't even focus on that.

He's too busy feeling desperately sad for Mo Xuanyu.

She lived as a pauper in a family that despised her, had a father that ignored her, was so lonely that she named her sword Friend, and killed herself rather than marry Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan would have been nice to her. It took him a while to warm up, but he's trying now, to do his duty as a proper husband. Which is inconvenient for Wei Wuxian, but probably would have meant the world to Mo Xuanyu.

She didn't have to die. If she'd been able to hold onto hope for just a few more days, instead of giving in to revenge and despair, then she could have lived out her life out from underneath the thumb of other people.

"Are you okay?"

He startles out of his thoughts, looking up to see Sizhui has pulled his mare up beside his and is peering at him in concern.

He forces a smile, because he's put Sizhui through enough today, and he's a good boy that doesn't deserve to be involved in any of this. The worst part about dying again is going to be leaving behind Sizhui. He's such a sweet boy who loves him so easily and he just knows that it's going to break his heart when either the cultivation or the curse mark has run its course. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just thinking."

Sizhui looks unconvinced, but nods before looking up towards the front of the procession, where Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan are talking about something while Jin Guangyao pretends to be interested. He reaches into his sleeve. "I found some of these in town when I went looking for you."

He pulls out a small bag of the sweet, spicy pepper candy that Wei Wuxian likes so much and hold it out.

"You're the best!" he says, taking the bag and also pausing to squeeze his arm in thanks, only not pulling him into a hug because he's not sure how tolerant the horses will be about it.

The food in Cloud Recesses is ass and he can't cover everything with chilli oil because the only person he'd met who liked food as spicy as he did was - well, no one. So having Mo Xuanyu like spicy food had seemed like edging a little too close to obvious.

He'd been so happy when Sizhui had brought pepper candy back for him for the first time and had sworn him to secrecy to how how much he loved them.

Wei Wuxian pops one of the candies in his mouth, sucking on it to more quickly get to the firey pops of pepper, which is his favorite.

There's about five seconds of deliciousness and then his stomach rolls with nausea. He tightens his grip, trying to ride it out, but the taste of the candy he loved turns sour and he's seriously worried he's going to hurl, which Lan Zhan would never let him hear the end of.

He spits the candy out onto the ground, rubbing at his mouth.

"Lady Xuanyu?" Sizhui asks startled. "Is - sorry, did I get the wrong one?"

"No, no, it's perfect," he assures, internally sighing in relief as his stomach starts to settle. "I guess I shouldn't eat them on an empty stomach! It ruins the flavor. Who knew?"

He's eaten them on an empty stomach a dozen times before and never had an issue.

"Okay," Sizhui says slowly. 'Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Sizhui, don't worry," he says, and means it, even though he sort of wants to cry.

The pepper candies were one of the only things he could get his hands on that he enjoyed eating, and now even that's gone?

At least the Jin go all out on the banquets.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #untamed

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vengeful-velvette · 3 months

Note

Hey stranger!

So a couple of days ago you asked what my list would be for least to most brattiest hazbin characters would look like, and i’m incredibly curious as to what your list would be!

This concept is really fun to me omg I really want your opinion on this 🤔

Hey random stranger who I have never met before! Fancy seeing you in my little ask box.

Here are my own thoughts regarding the tier list, also ranked from least to most to build tension:

---------

- Charlie: I'm glad we both agree that Charlie is at the bottom of this list lol. She's just too sweet! I feel like she doesn't even think to brat either, like she thinks "we're both enjoying this, why would I tell you to stop or not listen to you when I want to?"

I also feel like Charlie really enjoys sweet sex, like she just doesn't understand how someone can enjoy being called derogatory names during sex. She probably also says "I love you" during sex and wants to hold your hand.

At the absolute worst, she'll get embarrassed (especially when you two are first dating) and put her hands over face to hide from your sweet words.

Though, I do think that she has a hidden animalistic side to her (did you see in in the finale? 😳 I'm a dom, but oh, that got to me), that I bet that even she's unaware of. I imagine that she finds this out about herself when you two are play fighting in bed and wrestling each other around. You're able to pin her to bed and as you tease her; "Not so powerful now, are you princess?" She can't help her eyes from going red as she snarls at you.

Which of course shatters all playful energy as you reinsure her that you weren't scared - you actually found it really hot. (Also, fun fact, but as much as I go crazy about Velvette, Charlie is actually my favorite Hazbin character. Idk, she's just so cheerful, hopeful, apologetic, and nice in a show filled with loveable assholes that I couldn't help but get attached. I love her, she's my baby girl.)

- Sir Pentious: I'm glad I'm not the only one who doesn't see him as the least bratty character ever, lol. He's just so precious! I imagine him as being extremely shy in bed and extremely reactive. Even the most chaste kiss can embarrass him.

I also think he isn't used to hearing compliments since he's visually very more animal-like than most sinners, so some people are little put off by his appearance. So hearing you call him your "pretty boy" and "darling snake" has him flushing and squirming.

I also doubt that he could handle any mean words. It just absolutely kills his confidence. Though I do think he will find some embarrassing enjoyment in being teased, I think that it could never cross into actual mean words. He absolutely loves to please, though, and it's honestly really cute seeing him try to pleasure you even though he doesn't really know how to. What he lacks in skill, he definitely makes up in enthusiasm, though.

- Vaggie: Man, three in a roll that's exactly the same, lol. But I totally agree with you, I don't think Vaggie is much of a brat. I think she also doesn't like not pleasuring her partner (because my girl has self worth issues), so I feel like if you told her to lie down and relax while you pleasure her, it wouldn't take long before she's trying to touch you and get you off too.

That's really the only way I can see her "bratting", and I bet that after awhile with you proving to her that you want to please her, that it brings you pleasure, she eventually relaxes.

- Lucifer: I know you put him up higher, but to me, Luci would never not crumble immediately in bed. This man has a praise kink a mile long and loves to hear you call him your "good boy". Though, there's a reason he's placed here and not all the way at the bottom.

While I do think that the first few times (or, more accurately, first 50 times) he's a blushing mess who crumbles immediately, I feel like after a while he starts to gain some self confidence (and internalized the idea that he wouldn't fuck everything up with you if he messes anything up), he feels a lot more comfortable teasing you back and bratting.

I still think it's laughably easy to get him to crumble, but an attempt is still made!

- Rosie: I know you said you didn't know where to put Roise, but I do! Gosh, I love Roise so much. Every single one of her lines is my favorite. I ultimately find her to be a rather sweet character, hence why she's pretty low on the list, but I still think she has a bite to her that can make her seem brat adjacent.

Like, if you're up for it, she will totally bite you until you don't have a single unmarked bit of flesh.

- Cherri Bomb: Now we're getting into "slightly a brat but can turn it down" territory. I definitely think that Cherri has some spark in her, but I also think that it wouldn't take much to flip her over and make her show her stomach. She's kinda explosive in that way, in the sense that she's hot and quick in the beginning, a bit very quickly flizzes out.

I also think that she's not really used to pleasure? It's implied in the Addict music video that she used to have a lover, but based on her facial expressions, I don't think she really likes him all that much? Or it's complicated, at least. But judging purely by his looks and the fact the two still aren't together, I'm assuming that he wasn't that great of a partner and Cherri isn't used to getting more pleasure than she gives.

- Husk: I think he's actually a bit of a brat. You've seen him bristle whenever someone pets him in the show, I think he's kinda predisposed to ruffling up when you call him your "pretty little kitty" or pet him (even though he really likes being your pretty little kitty). I feel like he's prone to get embarrassed very easily, and this means he can be quite bratty when you lay on the compliments a little thick.

I do think that Husk would get a little off on the humiliation aspect, but it takes him a bit to really accept this fact about himself that bratting to you is easier.

I agree that he's probably used to pleasing his partner during sex, so that probably adds to his brat score as he tries to wrestle control away from you to make you feel good, too. Though, after a while, I think Husk realizes that he feels truly comfortable with you taking care of him (while calling him your pretty kitty) and won't brat as much.

- Alastor: since Alastor is canonical asexual, and I like to include this fact, I don't think he gets the same out of sex as non-asexual characters do. What I mean by this is that he isn't so interested in the physical sexual experience, but how sex can lead to many situations he isn't familiar with. I do think he finds those situations entertaining and thus finds enjoyment in them.

For example, in @/prince-liest fic Station 66.6, Now Playing: The Irreversible Ruination of Your Self-Respect (that I think everyone should read, really it's so good), introduced me to the concept of Alastor really like prey/predator play because he has some deer instincts in him. I really, really, really love that idea!

I think Alastor likes experiences like that, ones he isn't accustomed to. Especially when he you mix that with sex, something he usually has no interest in, but adds a neat layer to the whole thing.

Because of this, I also think he's somewhat of a brat. Mainly, he really wants to see what you will do to him if he says "no", will you force him? How will you force someone like him to do something he "doesn't" want to? I can see him as a sub who likes to make their dom work to get their submission, as it feeds into his massive ego.

- Velvette: she's so used to barking orders all day long that it can be hard to turn that aspect of her "off". So she can be quite bossy during sex. She doesn't really understand that you want to take it nice and slow tonight and will start demanding that you hurry it up as you eat her out.

She thinks she knows best, so she isn't shy in voicing her opinion when she thinks you're doing something too "slow" or "softly" or you're being a "tease". She absolutely hates being called a brat, too, and huffs and puffs and pouts when you call her one.

- Vox: I'm glad we can both agree that he's extremely bratty, lol. He definitely has this image in his head that he's some big shot dom, and probably doesn't even realize he's a sub until he meets you and you take him apart bit by bit. The only reason why I haven't placed him higher is because of how fast he crumbles when you have him underneath you. I wouldn't go into too much detail because I think you already nailed how Vox can turn into a dom, to a brat, to a squirming sub.

- Lute: I know you don't see her as a brat, but I definitely do. I see her as someone who can be pretty bossy in bed. I can also see her as someone who loves being "forced" into submission. She's a fighter! She wants to wrestle into you pin her to the bed and force your fingers into her cunt before shoving your fingers into her mouth to make her "taste her desperation".

I also thinks that she gets really embarrassed by sweet words, and thinks that you're just teasing her when you say she's your "adorable little angel", and thus isn't afraid to bite back at your words.

- Adam: I'm glad he's at the top of both of our lists lol. Yeah he's a terrible brat, and he doesn't really have the excuse of "wants to please you too" or "wants to be forced into submission" like other characters. He's just a brat! He wants all the pleasure for himself, and he wants it right now! I feel like the biggest struggle is actually getting him to try and please you. (Maybe you even have to lock him up in a cock cage to get him to behave - woah who said that?)

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Sorry, this is kinda half "tier rank of least to most bratty characters" and half "random smut headcanons I have". Also some of these characters got wayyyyy longer parts because I have!!! Lots of Thoughts!!! About them!!!

Anyway, I hope you like my tier list!!

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin smut #my post #my smut #oh shot i forgot Emily #i love Emily #she'll probably be around the Sir Pentious area

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why-animals-do-the-thing · 1 year

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hi there! love your work! i recently had a prof say that all zoos (USA) are bad (so we shouldn't support them) and sanctuaries are better because using animals for entertainment is morally wrong, most zoo profits dont go to conservation, and conservation efforts are bandaid solutions to capitalism destroying animal habitats, so the real solution is to return the land to indigenous stewards to manage/rewild. i didn't disagree with the last bit, but the argument as a whole felt a little off to me for a reason i couldnt put my finger on. am i off base here? just feeling really unsure about the whole thing.

You're not wrong! There's a mix of reality and personal opinions in those statements, and it's definitely something worth critically examining. A quick fact-check of what they said for you:

All US zoos are bad

There's a massive range of quality of zoological facilities within the US (and around the world). Some are stellar and some are not, and it's really just not accurate to lump them all under the same umbrella for almost any purpose. Unless, of course, your issue isn't with animal welfare, and it's philosophical, which is what it sound like in #2...

2. Using animals for entertainment is morally wrong.

This is one of my favorite things to talk about w/r/t how we exhibit animals. Entertainment has become equated with exploitation and implicit low welfare in the last couple decades, and so you get a lot of people saying using animals for entertainment is wrong. But those same folk will say that they enjoy seeing animals in other contexts, and they think that's okay. Where's the line between enjoying something and being entertained by it? What makes something one and not the other? Also, we know that people learn better from from situations which are enjoyable/entertaining - even just a fun teacher who jokes around vs a dry lecture - so how can that only be a problem when it's used to make viewing animals more impactful? I wrote a whole piece on this a while back (linked here) if you want to dig into this more. Some zoos (and accrediting groups) are shying away from "entertainment" type branding - shows are demos now, for instance - and others are leaning into "edutainment" that's done with good welfare and communicates actual education messaging. In short, this is a personal philosophical belief, and you're right to question if you agree. (Even if you decide you do think that too! It's always good to question why someone is arguing what they believe about animal use, and how they came to believe it).

3. Sanctuaries are better than zoos.

There's two reasons I think he's misinformed here. First, almost all exotic animal sanctuaries in the US are licensed exhibitors - just like zoos! I only know of a couple that don't exhibit to the public at all. It's an important part of their revenue stream, because gate take helps support paying for animal care. Also anything you see from a sanctuary on Youtube, Facebook, or TikTok? Also exhibition! They just message about it differently, and often have a different ethos about how they exhibit (e.g. tours to reduce stress instead of letting people wander, doing conservation or rescue messaging instead of just display). Second... look, most people assume that the word "sanctuary" means a facility is intrinsically more ethical than a zoo, and therefore they must be a good place. In reality, many sanctuaries get much less public and regulatory scrutiny (at the state level) than most zoos. There are good sanctuaries out there, but there are also sanctuaries where stuff goes on that would absolutely be unacceptable at zoos, and it slides because of the assumption that sanctuaries are inherently more moral and ethical and care for their animals better.

4. Most zoo profits don't go to conservation

This is correct! Direct conservation funding is often a small part of the money a zoo makes. However, that's because money goes to things like facility maintenance, new construction, paying salaries, etc. If zoos put all the money they made back into conservation programs, practically, they wouldn't have the funding to continue to operate. The question that I'd suggest asking instead is "where are they putting money into conservation" and "are they doing conservation work or just throwing money at something to display the logo of the program." Also, it's worth keeping in mind that a lot of what zoos do to support conservation isn't necessarily financial. Many facilities contribute "in-kind", by doing things like sending staff to assist with programs or teach specific skills, or by donating things like vehicles and equipment. Research zoos do also seriously contributes to in-situ programs, and breeding programs for re-introduction like the scimitar-horned oryx and the black-footed ferret are also conservation. Could many of the big urban facilities with huge budgets do more? Yes. But looking just at dollars spent on conservation programs is disingenuous and inaccurate.

5. Conservation efforts are band-aid solutions to capitalism destroying habitats / Returning the land to indigenous peoples to manage/rewild is the real solution to conservation issues

This is a little outside my scope so I'm going to only address the part that I know. First off, like, there's no One True Answer to conservation issues. That's reductionist and inaccurate. Conservation really is a human issue, though, and it often has to involve solving human problems that lead to negative results for animals. There's definitely an issue with what some people call "parachute conservation" where Westerners swoop in and try to tell people living in range countries how to best manage their animals and natural resources without recognizing their perspectives, needs, or what drives their behavior towards those animals. That's not just a zoo issue - that's an issue with a ton of traditional Western conservation work. And there is progress towards fixing it! In the zoo world, I've been very impressed with the work out of The Living Desert, where their conservation people spend a lot of time overseas teaching people in range countries to evaluate and improve their own conservation programs, so they can assess efficacy and also have data to apply for grants, etc. They provide support when asked, rather than trying to tell people who live with these animals regularly what to do. One of my favorite programs that TLD collaborates with (they don't try to run it!) is a group called the Black Mambas that reduces poaching by supporting entire communities to reduce the desperation for food/income, educating kids about animals, and running all-female patrols staffed by community members.

Overall, it sounds like your professor's view of zoos is really informed by their personal moral perspective, and possibly reinforced by a lot of the misinformation / misleading messaging that exists about the industry and about conservation work. They do have some specifics right, but not necessarily the context to inform why things are like that. It was a good catch to question the mix of information and approach it critically.

#zoo industry #zoo information #philosophy around zoos and what they do #conservation #zoo questions

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