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murdrdocs · 1 year

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fully charged | f. odair

description. a grueling week spent in the arena where you thought about two things, survival and finnick odair, has come to an end, leaving you to make your way back to finnick's arms to finish what you both started.

aka part 2 to saber tooth

includes. SMUT 16+, fem!reader, reader has hair to wash, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex (don't do this irl), fingering, super soft finnick, brief mention of trauma from the games, finnick loves consent ! (so do i), switches pov for a line but don't focus on that okay focus on the sex, not proofread but its 3 am

a/n: i stayed up super late to finish this and i didn't do my homework so don't ever say i never do anything for yall (i wasn't gonna do my work anyway and i was gonna stay up but shh). title from disco tits by tove lo

word count: 5.0k+

Blood on your hands, a headache that makes your ears ring and your vision spin, a simultaneous feeling of indescribable hunger and tear-inducing nausea, but the only thing on your mind is Finnick.

The Capitol airlift coming to the area was quick, and you’d never been happier to leave somewhere. You don’t look down at the open meadow that you’d spent the last days in. You look up into the jet, both joyed and disappointed to see the nurses and medics who awaited you.

Hours of injections and force feedings and encouragement to sleep later, and you were finally closer to Finnick than you had been in the last week.

The little notes he sent through sponsored care packages gave you the strength to make it out of there, and now that you are out, just the thought of seeing him is what keeps you on your feet.

“And everyone is so thrilled to have you back. There is a feast planned later tonight, and another for when you get home to Four, and of course a housewarming party to get you settled into the Village,” Mitch, your escort, rambles on as he leads you through the train cars, all the way to your personal area. Through each car that you walk through, your eyes scan the area for the golden blonde boy that you’d been happiest to see. And when you come up empty again and again, your heart feels as if it shrinks.

“But first, you need a shower. No offense,” Mitch smiles, his hands on your shoulders to turn you around to face the bathroom.

“None taken,” you mumble. Truth be told, you had more things on your mind to worry about other than how you smelt. The sound of Mitch’s dress shoes clacking against the floor announces his intended departure, but you turn around to stop him before he can leave.

“Yes, dearie?”

“Do you know where Finnick is?” The train hadn’t started moving yet, you were still at the Capitol’s station, so if Finnick were not aboard yet there was still time for him to join.

“Um, no.” Mitch looks disappointed by his own answer. “He said he had business to take care of and he might be traveling home with us. But I do not know for sure.”

Mitch’s answer leaves you with an intense feeling of loneliness, but you push it down as you make your way to the bathroom.

The shower is hotter than it needs to be, but the sting on your skin is welcomed. You scrub along your body with the exfoliating cloth until it’s visibly irritated, and even then, you continue a few more times. Images of the arena attempt to surface, a knot in your throat with each memory and self-deprecating thought that accompanies it, but you push it down with another pump of shampoo and you wash it away with the suds.

You’re on your third round of washing your hair whenever the whirring sound of the door to the bathroom opening meets your ears.

You stop rinsing, your eyes opening to look out around you. An unusual thick cloud of steam clouds the pristine area, you squint as you attempt to see who, or even what, has entered.

You come up short. Not knowing who was there makes you anxious and you regress into the thought process that you’ve become well acquainted with.

Your eyes scan the spacious shower, looking for something sharp. There’s nothing to defend yourself with, which means you’ll have to rely on your hands. Quickly, you rinse them in the running water, getting rid of the suds, and then you reach out to pull the shower door open.

“Hello?” you ask, your voice stronger than it would have been if you were in this predicament 7 days ago.

It’s silent for a few seconds, then a breath is heard, followed by a smooth timbre.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Finnick.

He stands in the corner of the bathroom, just out of sight from where the shower had you angled. His back is turned, leaving you to see the linen of his shirt and the dark-honey blonde of the bottom of his hair as his head is bowed. You want nothing more than to see his face.

Your foot reaches out to meet the plush rug, but you stop when the cool outside air enters the shower and you’re reminded that you’re naked, wet, and your hair is nowhere near presentable. But in the grand scheme of things, none of that matters.

So you step out of the shower, your feet sinking into the plush rug and your heart banging against your chest, and a smile reaches your face when you say, “Finnick.”

His head turns first, then his body, and you’re met with the sea-green eyes that you’ve thought about every night since that night. His eyes stay on your face, even though you’re completely nude.

You barely feel any shame or insecurity.

“Hey,” he says again, his pretty pink lips pulling into his own smile.

“Hi.”

There’s a few moments of serene silence, both of you just taking in the presence of the other, and then Finnick makes the move to cross the room.

His hands lift and his palms find the wet skin of your cheeks. He smiles. He blinks. Then he moves in.

When Finnick kisses you, it’s like nothing else in the world even exists. The entire Universe in that moment is just you and Finnick, two people who have always existed together. Nothing else.

His lips gently pull from yours, but he doesn’t go far, his forehead resting against yours.

“It’s good to see you again,” he tells you.

“I’ve missed you,” you tell him.

He smiles. “I’ve missed you too.”

Finnick lets you finish cleaning up. He was going to leave the bathroom, but when you asked him to stay, your eyes welled up with tears and your voice cracked and he wanted to stay anyway, so he planted himself right outside of the shower then.

It takes a while for you to get ready, you spent most of the time scrubbing dirt out from under your fingernails and trying to scrub out the stench that permeated inside of your nose, but dinner was delayed for you, and no one complained. It’s when you were sitting at the table, eating food that was somehow still warm, with Finnicks hand on your knee and proud and sympathetic looks from your stylist and escort, that you realize that things are going to revolve around you for a while.

A nightmare plagued sleep on the train, a welcome party at the station in Four, a housewarming party in a renovated mansion in the Victors Village, another dress from your stylist, and a large dinner with friends you haven’t considered friends in years, with your family and Finnick in attendance.

And now you’re alone again.

Not exactly alone. Finnick’s sitting outside of your new bathroom, waiting for you, which is as alone as you’re going to get for a while.

Your makeup is gone, you’re out of the dress and into a pair of comfortable pajamas, and there’s a nervous anticipation in your chest. Not the kind of nervous anticipation that you’d felt in the area, but the kind that you felt last week when Finnick came to visit.

The kind where you hoped that something sentimental was going to happen soon, and as you pull the door open and come face to face with Finnick who sits at the edge of your bed, you knew that something sentimental was going to happen.

“Hey,” he scoots over to make room for you.

You take the space beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Hi.” His shoulder works as a comfortable pillow, which you’d dreamed of for many nights when you only had grass as an actual pillow. . “Are you planning to stay here tonight?” You lift your eyes to look at him, a fluttery feeling spreading all over your body when you see that he was already looking at you.

He blinks, his tongue moistens his lips. “If you’d like me to.”

You hum. “I would.”

“What would I do?”

A shrug from you. “Help me settle in.”

“Oh so you’re using me staying as an excuse to have me kill bugs, chase out mice, dust the corners.”

You laugh. It feels good to laugh.

“Maybe.” Your shared laughter dies down and a still silence places itself over the room. You stare ahead, take a deep breath, and say, “And to keep me warm.”

Finnicks hand snakes around your waist, cupping the outside to pull you flush into his side. His lips are against the crown of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair. You can feel them move when he assures you. “That’s what I’m best at.”

There’s a bit of silence that you use to turn yourself to fully face Finnick. His hand gravitates to your lower back with the movement.

He stares at you expectantly, and you smile gently. “Thank you,” you tell him.

His eyebrows furrow. “For?”

A small shrug from you. “Keeping me alive … in there. And for being my best friend and so much more that I can’t think of right now.”

Both of Finnick's hands cup your cheeks and his forehead knocks into yours, then his nose, then his lips.

He kisses you softly, pressing a single kiss into your parted lips, the two pairs molding and sticking together as if they were always meant for each other. You melt into the second kiss, thankful to get to feel this again. A thought arises within you, one that details you and Finnick getting to do this for the rest of your lives, no longer plagued with the thought of being reaped. If that’s something he also wants.

The kiss is nice, but it’s also not quite what you want.

You communicate that by tilting your head, letting your hands meet the back of Finnick’s head, and scooting yourself closer.

Finnick mimics your new found ferocity, but it seems like he’s still not getting it. You push your chest into his, you slide your hands down his torso, letting them rest on his abdomen, and then he pulls away and furrows his eyebrows.

Now he’s getting it.

“Are you sure? Are you ready?”

You can feel the touch of his hand on your lower back getting lighter as if he’s anticipating your denial. But you nod, no hesitance behind the movement, and since you know he’s going to want to hear it verbally, you part your slick lips and say, “I’m sure. And I’m ready.”

Finnick has you on your back in the center of your bed quickly. You’re still fully clothed, but obviously not for long with the way his large hand is roaming under your shirt. The other rests beside your head, pressed into the pillow and keeping him afloat above you.

You can feel the ghost of his knee between your parted legs and he’s too far away. You need him closer. You need his chest against yours instead of a few inches away, you need his knee pressed against your center, you need his entire being to become fused with yours.

There’s no way for you to communicate that when he’s kissing you so hard that you consider the possibility that your lips would bruise. Not that you’re complaining one bit.

Finnick pulls away from your lips to press kisses into your jaw and neck, where he switches from simple kisses to sucking actual bruises into your skin. The feeling of his lips sucking the skin and his teeth nipping stings, not in the way an ant bite does, but in the way that has your back arching and you feel the scratch of the linen of Finnick’s shirt against the cotton of yours.

You let out a breath, not meaning for it to sound as much of a moan as it does, but Finnick’s lips curl up against your skin. He presses a final, chaste kiss into the bruise that you know to be forming, and he leans back to give you a full look.

“Can you take this off for me?” His hands tug at your shirt once.

You nod, sitting up to fill the space that Finnick makes by leaning back, and you swiftly pull the shirt over your head. For the sake of comfort, you’d opted out on a bra tonight, and the decision is clearly thanked by Finnick.

He’s staring, marveling, at your bare chest, taking in the sight. You know the way he’s looking at you is a good sign, but you can’t help but feel a little insecure, something in your mind telling you to cover up. Your hands twitch at your sides to make the move to your chest, but then Finnick’s speaking.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says it like he means it. There’s something in you, the same thing that tried to convince you to cover up, that tells you that he doesn’t mean it. He’s just saying it in the heat of the moment.

But your better judgment comes into play then and it notices that Finnick’s tell still isn’t there. He’s still telling the truth.

You smile, just a little bashful, and reach to tug at the end of Finnick’s shirt.

“Even the playing field, Odair.” He does as you say, his hands finding the neck hole of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing it off the side of your bed.

Then his lips are back on your skin, kissing at your collarbone and steadily moving down your chest. He’s just pressing little kisses along your skin, not staying in one place too long, but the anticipation swims low in your stomach and makes you push your chest up into the air, waiting for Finnick to hopefully reach the destination you want him to go to.

When he does, when his lips wrap around your nipple, you sigh blissfully.

He gives the bud the same treatment that he delivered onto your neck, sucking and nipping, just a tad more gentle. All the while, his sea-green eyes stare up at you, gauging your reaction, seeing if he’s doing the right or the wrong thing.

Your face is one of nothing but pleasure, mouth parted, eyes closed, eyebrows pinched together with enough tension to tell him that he’s doing right, not wrong.

He switches to the other bud, and his hand trails down to the elastic waistband of your pants. Your hips wiggle, impatience finding you quickly, and then his hand slips past the elastic and his middle finger nudges between your clothed folds.

You shiver, a quiet mewl escaping past your lips. Your sounds only increase in volume when Finnick adds his ring finger and works then up and down your slit, circling them at your clit when they reach that point, and then working their way back down and teasing your hole.

When Finnick’s warm mouth detaches from your hardened bud, the cool air hits it and sends goosebumps onto the finest layer of your skin like a wave. They multiply when he speaks.

“You’re so wet, darling,” His fingers trail back up to circle your clit languidly, not fast enough to give you any real satisfaction, but enough to let you know that they’re there. “‘S all for me?” He’s teasing, pulling your leg, because who else would it be for?

The corner of his lips pull up into a smirk, confirming your suspicions, and you mean to say something equally as teasing back, something that would make his smile drop.

But your mouth works faster than your brain.

“Of course, Finn. Always all for you.”

He swears under his breath, his fingers stopping right on the hidden nub. He blinks, inhales, then fixes his gaze on your expectant one.

“You really mean that?” His hand flexes beside your head and you turn your head, your eyes fixed on him, and press a kiss into his forearm.

“I do.”

Finnick has your pants and panties off and thrown to the opposite side of your bed so quickly that you barely have time to process it. You only start to process how bare you are whenever his thick fingers come back to your center and this time, you feel them.

You feel the rough skin of his finger pads, the way they glide through your slick, toy with your clit, then sink down to begin to probe at your entrance.

You let him, your legs falling open even more when his middle finger sinks in to the first knuckle. He glances at you before he continues, and you’re in a state of bliss already, so he continues until the deft digit is sheathed completely inside your walls.

Finnick only fucks you with the single finger for a few moments, then you’re reaching down and wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing your hips into his hand, silently telling him that you want more.

So he adds another.

He curls them, reaches them deep inside of you, searches for the spot that he’ll memorize for minutes from now when you get the real deal.

His watchful eyes search your reactions, too. He watches the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips and the way your lips part and how your eyebrows pinch together more and more until there. He finds it and your back arches off the bed and your hiss turns into a pretty cracked moan.

“Right there?” he asks for confirmation.

“Right there.”

You feel lips kiss your inner thigh and then Finnick’s focusing on that spot a few more times, then he’s abandoning it. You hold in your disappointed sigh, but the feeling of Finnick separating his fingers, scissoring you open, is one that’s greatly welcomed as a replacement.

You gasp, moan, your back arches, your nails dig into the sheets. Finnick’s other hand goes to your clit, rubbing little circles. “Holy shit, Finn.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Better than my own.”

An image of you in a similar position, but with your own hands between your legs and not Finnick’s, flashes in his mind and is that a sight to see.

“Are you close, sweetheart?”

You nod, expecting Finnick to work you harder, faster, to guide you to the edge. He does the exact opposite.

He pulls his fingers away from your cunt and your eyes open, staring down at him with bewilderment written all over your face.

“You still want me to fuck you?” His eyebrows raise.

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Okay then.”

You watch him stand, slip his pants and boxers off, and you shamelessly stare at his dick, propped up on your elbows for an unobstructed view.

The way it sits so prettily, erected, reaching right at his abdomen. Flushed the same pink as his lips at the head, leaking a picturesque drop of precum. You could just sit and marvel at Finnick’s cock for a while longer than you’re given. But he bends down to search the pockets of the pants he came in, and swears when he doesn’t find what he needs.

“What? What is it?” You think you know what it is but you’re really hoping you don’t.

Finnick stands straight again and looks at you, obviously dejected. “No condoms.”

Fuck.

You’re silent, attempting to think of a solution.

“I could just go to mine, it's right next door, you know. I’ll be quick.”

He could. But you truthfully don’t care at this moment.

You’re sure there has to be some sort of morning after preventative that you could get your hands on now that you're Victor, and Finnick looks so appetizing just standing there, there’s no way you would be able to survive the few minutes that you would have to sit there without him.

“I don’t care if you don’t.” Your admission has his eyes widening just a bit, then his eyebrows furrowing and his face scrunching into one of slight worry.

“Are you sure? This isn’t something lighthearted.”

You nod. “I’m sure. There’s a preventative out there, right?” He thinks for a second, then nods. “Then I’m sure.”

Finnick climbs back onto the bed, wraps one hand around his cock and the other around the outside of your thigh. He glances at you, “Just relax, okay?”, and then back at your cunt when you nod.

He lines himself up and your immediate reaction is to tense up, but you take a breath, and relax, and then he breaches.

It’s painful, not in the way that you’ve felt pain just days ago, but in a stinging way. You can feel yourself stretching around him, allowing him in, and every few inches he stops to remind you to breathe.

You feel like his member is endless, there always seems to be more and more, but he’s almost there now, home stretch, but you don’t know that until he tells you.

“Breathe with me, sweetheart. ‘M almost there,” he says, his eyes locking into yours as he takes a deep inhale, nodding when you mirror the action, then he slowly exhales. When you do the same, he slides all the way in until you can feel the base of his dick pressed against your mound.

When he’s all the way in, the curls at the base of his dick tickling you, you’re able to focus on how good it feels to have Finnick Odair’s dick nestled inside of your walls. The stretch is addicting. Your head’s spinning, your mouth salivating, and you just know that you’re gonna be addicted after this.

Now that he’s situated within you, Finnick brings his forearm back to push into the pillow beside your head. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then to your lips when you turn your head.

“Let me know when it’s okay to move, okay?”

You nod. “You can move.”

Finnick seems a little unsure, but your hips wiggle and you moan and he takes your word for it.

He starts slow, pulling out halfway then pushing back all the way in. You’re so receptive, little breaths and moans leaving your lips and immediately meeting his ears. He relishes in the sounds, the auditory display of satisfaction going right down to his groin, encouraging him to fuck you harder and deeper.

He starts to pull out more, inch by inch, and push back in with more force. There’s no way for you to describe the feeling you’re in other than euphoric. For a second, you search your brain for descriptors, ways you can put the feeling to words for when you think about it later on, but you come up so short and Finnick is making you feel so good that you forget what you were thinking about in the first place with the next thrust.

“Doing okay?”

“More than okay, Finn.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” He lifts his face to level it with yours, green eyes staring at you, watching you get lost in his gaze and blink yourself awake multiple times. “You can do it, baby. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

Is he reading your mind?

“You’re an asshole.” He laughs.

“That’s no way to treat the guy making you feel this good, is it?”

He tilts his head, waiting for your response. You shake your head, back to being fucked out, and Finnick decides to let you off the hook for now.

He leans down, pushing his lips to yours and letting you sloppily kiss him while his hips rock into yours.

You didn’t think there was a way that you could feel better than this, but Finnick shifts his hips when he pulls out, then he pushes back in with more assurance and confidence and he finds that same spot and your back arches, your chest pushing into his.

“That’s it,” Finnick coos, either talking to himself or you, you’re not really sure. Either way, you still nod.

The linen sheets rub at your back, the crisp pillow cover crinkles with each thrust that sends you up the bed a little more, you can feel your pussy leaking around Finnick. You can smell him, a mix of the smell of the sea and a musk that is so unique to him that you want the scent to live permanently in your nose.

Your eyes are open, somehow, and you’re watching Finnick. The way the vein in his head pops out every so often, how his tanned skin looks in the low light of your bedroom, the way sweat reflects off of his forehead and a bead looks as if it’s going to trickle down and land onto your tit. You watch it, lost and mesmerized by everything that is Finnick Odair, and when it lands on your chest you just feel like he’s giving you even more of himself.

You want to give him more of you, too, but you don’t know how. Not here, in this position, with this hazed state of mind, so you do what you can. You dig a hand in his hair, scratching at his scalp and pulling at the strands with just enough tension, and you arch your back from the lowest point, pushing your hips further into him.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. One of a kind.” His hips are starting to speed up a bit, getting a little sloppier too if you really focus. But all you can focus on is the slight rasp in his voice when he praises you. “Don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave this pussy after this. Don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave you.”

You know what he means. You’ve known Finnick most of your life, long enough to be able to read between lines that sometimes aren’t even there. You know what he means.

You keen, the sound a little embarrassing but not enough for you to reflect on the thought for more than a second.

“‘M close, Finnick.” You can feel it low in your belly, burning, begging for your attention. This build up feels different from the last, a little more urgent, maybe. A little more prevalent.

This build up has you desperately chasing after it, terrified that you won’t catch it, that it’ll somehow slip past your grasp and you’ll be left unsatisfied. You know you don’t have to worry about that when Finnick’s the one making you feel so good.

The hand on your thigh inches towards your core, his thumb singling out and connecting with your clit. It only takes a few tight circles and a few more expert thrusts for you to fall over the edge, your legs lifting, hooking behind Finnick’s back to keep him close to you. Not like he was planning to go anywhere.

He feels so good like this, fucking you through your orgasm. You don’t want him to pull out, but you know he should. You know he has to. He tells you as much.

“Squeezing me so hard, sweetheart. Fuck, I gotta … gotta pull out.” You really, really, don’t want him to, but you let your legs drop and Finnick pulls out and his hand wraps around his lubed up dick, pumping a few times and then he’s spilling warm spurts of cum over your tummy.

You watch your stomach rise and fall rapidly with your breaths, the white substance glistening against your skin. Finnick watches it too, then he’s coming back for more kisses.

These are a little less sloppy, a little more gentle, a little more loving.

You feel yourself slipping out of it as he kisses you, your lips a little less receptive with each passing moment. Finnick notices and he pulls back, leaving you with one more chaste kiss before he’s leaving the bed and the sound of his feet on your hardwood lets you know that he’s moving towards your bathroom.

You don’t bother opening your eyes, you just listen to the sound of the closet door opening, the sound of running water starting and stopping, more feet against hardwood, then you feel the bed dip with Finnicks weight.

You flinch, then giggle, when the towel rubs at your inner thighs and then your stomach.

Finnick giggles with you, and you feel so domestic, so loved and cared for.

You peek your eyes open, watching the way he gently cleans you up. As if he feels eyes on him, he lifts his gaze, and smiles, dimples on display.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

“Am I still invited to spend the night?”

You pretend to think, but you’re too tired to even do that.

“If you make me breakfast in the morning,” you settle on, your hands under the folded back sheets of your bed.

You slip under the sheets and you watch Finnick carelessly throw the towel off to the side of the bed. Your mouth falls open. “And clean that up,” you add.

Finnick doesn’t bother responding. He just climbs to the top of the bed, slips under the covers with you, and pulls you to his chest with a kiss to your head.

Cuddled up with Finnick is a feeling you know you could get used to, and you hope you’ll be able to. You try not to think about how fleeting this could be. Instead, you force yourself to be optimistic, focusing on the riches you now have, and the beautiful home that’s on the beach and next to your best friend, and the way he’s holding you so securely to his chest, and the peaceful sleep that’s begging to be welcomed into the equation.

You decide to count it in, nestling even further into Finnick’s warmth and closing your eyes.

They immediately reopen and squint at the corner to the left of your bed.

“Finnick,” you whisper, continuing when he hums. “There’s a bug in the corner.”

“Where?”

You lift a finger, pointing to where it is. “Right there.”

Finnick sighs and stands.

“And pick that towel up while you’re at it please.”

#finnicksworld!#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair smut #finnick odair #celeste writes thg #the hunger games smut #the hunger games

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lancermylove · 8 months

Text

Only in a Towel (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Demon brothers x gn!Reader.

Warning: Suggestive.

Prompt: You walk into his room to see him walking out of his bathroom only in a towel.

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Prologue:

The door to his room creaked open, but no sounds came from inside his bedroom. Taking a step inside, you looked around, but he was nowhere in sight.

Right on cue, he walked out of his bathroom. For a brief moment, your eyes met, but soon enough, your gaze followed water droplets traveling down his toned body. He only had a towel wrapped low on his hips, tight enough to where you could trace the outlines of everything under the cotton cloth. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you struggled with an important decision - should you continue to stare or look away?

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Mammon's face turns so red that there is steam coming off it.

He quickly covers his "defined outlines" with his hands while figuring out where he can run. He turns around to return to the bathroom, but his towel comes undone.

As Mammon is running away into the bathroom, you have a good view of his cute and exposed derriere.

Lucifer's lips curl into a smirk, one of his eyebrows raising.

He truly enjoys seeing your crimson face, and purely out of curiosity to see your reaction, Lucifer reaches his hands to his towel and undoes it.

As you squeal, turn around, and run away, you can hear Lucifer laughing wholeheartedly in his room.

Levi's mouth drops. He quickly looks at you and looks down at his towel before crossing his arms over his chest and frantically looking around the room.

He pushes his gaming chair out of the way and hides under his desk.

Clearing your throat, you say, "Too late, Levi...you dropped your towel, and I saw everything. Everything." After that, you giggle and skip out of his room, leaving his head spinning.

Satan stares at you with wide eyes and opens his mouth like he is going to say something, but no words come out.

As he sees you scanning every inch of his body, he smirks. This is the perfect opportunity to tease you, and he does just that. "Would you like me to satiate your curiosity? You may like what you see underneath."

Hearing your loud squeal, Satan laughs, but he can't deny that he is embarrassed to be caught by you in this state.

Beel is startled to see you and feels slightly uncomfortable but doesn't try to hide anything. You gulp hard as you notice his water-droplet-covered chest.

Then he notices you looking down at his towel and wonders if you really are that curious. Thinking he is doing you a favor, Beel removes his towel for you.

You squeal, but it's too late. You see everything, enough to give you a nosebleed and make your head spin.

Asmo is surprised when he sees you in his room but doesn't mind.

When he sees you staring at his body, he smiles. He takes a deep breath and poses for you before asking, "How do I look, sweetie?"

The next moment, Asmo towel drops to the ground, and a white light blinds your eyes. For weeks, you can't get the image out of your head and can't face Asmo, much to his dismay.

Belphie blinks his eyes without saying anything. His eyes are slightly wide as if he is trying to make sense of his situation.

He smiles at you and raises his arms, asking in a sleepy voice, "Is something wrong? Would you like a hug?"

When you run out of his room with a red face, Belphie is confused until he looks down and realizes he is only in a towel. He chuckles to himself, satisfied by your reaction.

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➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

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#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me satan #obey me belphie #om! mammon #om! lucifer #om! leviathan #om! asmodeus #om! satan #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor

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peach-and-bugs · 10 months

Text

💚Bean Sprout - Lottie Matthews x fem!Reader💚

ch 1 - chapter 2 - ch 3

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Summary: You've been happily married to Charlotte Matthews for some odd years now, but it feels like it's time to take a step in a new direction together... aka mama!Lottie

Warnings: suggestive conversation & implication, insecurity

Word Count: 1,346

A/N: Hello Loves, we're back with more Mama!Lottie! I kept this one on the shorter side compared to most chapters I write, but this one kinda ended pretty naturally and I didn't feel like forcing more into it. As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading! 💚

Lottie Matthews Tag List: (open) @elliesjoints

Yellowjackets Tag List: @frasersgf @minimickzy

"Bean Sprout" Tag List: @mistysswampmud @emilynissangtr

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-💚-

Of course, a much longer conversation was had, and after a few weeks of intense organization, you both moved on to talking with doctors about your options. You agreed together that you’d carry, seeing as you were younger. You’d argued that 34 wasn’t all that much younger compared to 38, but Lottie had only laughed, shaking her head. It had been some time now, and you'd had begun taking a wide variety of supplements as you started tracking your cycle to get the IVF going.

On this evening, you were lying flat on your back on the couch, flipping through a binder of potential male donors that the clinic had given you to look through held over your head. Lottie moved into the living room from the kitchen, carrying two mugs of tea with her. She set one down on the coffee table in front of you before she tapped at your feet, silently asking you to scoot. You lifted your feet but didn’t look up from the binder.

“This is so weird,” You grumbled. Lottie sat at the other end of the couch with her feet up on the coffee table as she moved your feet across her lap.

“What’s weird, love,” she hummed, taking a sip of her still-steaming tea. She’d been brewing raspberry tea all week partly because of its boost for fertility but also just because she loved the flavor with honey. You sighed, turning through to another page of the binder, your eyes scanning over strange men’s faces and credentials for why you should pick them.

“Flipping through this book just to choose who we’ll use to make our baby,” you scrunched your nose at the wording with a scowl that made Lottie chuckle into her cup. “I wish you could just get me pregnant,” You mused under your breath as you flicked through the binder again, only to look away once more when you heard Lottie hum.

“I’d be lying if I didn’t think about that,” you perked up at the admission, dropping the binder to your stomach as you looked up at her with an arched brow.

“Oh, have you now?” you mused with a wicked grin. Lottie realized her mistake and refused to look up from her cup, now taking another long sip in an attempt to shield her eyes. The binder was forgotten and slipped onto the coffee table as you moved from you’re lying position. You readjusted, sitting up on your knees beside your wife, the proximity being enough for her to feel your breath fanning over the skin of her neck. Still, she didn't look up, her eyes trained on the cup in her hands as she stirred it with the tiny metal spoon she’d brought with her.

“Charlotte,” you murmured her full first name in that sing-song tone you so often use. She both loved and hated when you'd do that because, on the one hand, she adored the sound of her voice leaving your lips, but on the other, she knew what game you were playing. You grinned and took the cup out of her hands, moving to the coffee table beside your own because it had become quite offensive the amount of attention it was getting as opposed to you. You could hear Lottie swallow as you moved to straddle your thighs over her lap, arms looping ever naturally around her neck as you tilted your head with an innocent look.

“Tell me about it,” you mused, batting your eyelashes as she looked up at you as though she’d been caught in your headlights. You ran your fingertips over her forehead, brushing away loose hair that obstructed your view of her, your ever-beautiful wife who’d grown shy at her admission. You knew Lottie had a lot of thoughts when it came to this pregnancy, not all of them being the most innocent.

She rarely ever talked about it, but it had come up long before. Before you were married, even when she had been very drunk one night, her loose lips had let it slip that the thought of her partner carrying a baby, well, specifically your baby, together, was quite exciting, but not only because of the anticipation. She’d felt horrible the next morning, having realized what she’d said, which led you both down a long rabbit hole of conversation to normalize and help her feel better, that thinking that way about your partner was completely normal, and you found the idea quite flattering.

You knew that given the current conversation buzzing around the house, some of those thoughts and feelings could potentially be found fronting in her mind, though she hadn’t said anything about it till now. And though you now questioned her in a way that made it clear you also found her thought arousing, she held her tongue, keeping her fantasy to herself, much to your disappointment, but you weren't going to push.

“Well, if you aren't going to tell me, at least help me pick a baby daddy, won’t you?” that phrasing caught her attention now, and you felt her arms snake around your hips, tugging you into her ever so slightly as her eyes found yours with a scrunch in her brow.

“We aren’t calling him that,” there was a hushed harshness to her insistence that you relished in, biting your lip as you laughed. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed her lips but retreated before any heat could be added. “What was that,” Lottie asked, finally smiling with a curious crook in her brow.

“I like it when you get jealous,” you murmured, pecking at her cheek as you leaned away to reach for the binder again.

“I wasn’t jealous-” she began to argue as you readjusted yourself over her lap, now letting your legs stretch over the couch as you’re back rested against the arm of the couch. Lottie’s right arm curled around your side while her other hand found its place comfortably over your thigh as you presented her with the binder.

“Anyways, how do we even choose a doner when we haven't picked an egg yet,” Lottie asked, changing the subject. You pressed your lips in a frown. Neither of you had considered that portion yet.

“I mean, it doesn’t matter to me. The doctor said we could use either of our eggs,” you recalled. You looked up at your wife to notice a fleeting unsureness in her gaze. “Does that worry you?” you blinked up at her. She faltered as she began to speak, her hand aimlessly starting to rub at your back as she considered her words.

“I do worry about using my eggs, yes,” she eventually managed. You wanted to urge her to elaborate till it dawned on you.

“Lot, are you worried about passing your mental illness to the baby?” She didn’t have to answer to verify your suspicion. “Well, we can always use my eggs and find someone similar to you as our donor. That way, it feels more like an even mix, you know?” you brushed your thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Plus, that’ll shrink our pool of candidates and make picking a donor easier,” She seemed relieved by how seamlessly you could solve her worries, though she still had concerns.

“But I worry it’ll feel more like you’re having a baby,” she murmured, her eyes fleeting from yours once more. You turned her chin with your hand, giving her a scowled look.

“Lottie. Regardless of who’s carrying or who’s dna is being used, this is our baby. Yours and mine because we’re the ones going through this pregnancy together, and we’ll be the ones raising this child when it’s done, ok?” She sighed, and you could feel her relax under your touch, taking your hand in hers to kiss your fingertips, silently giving you her thanks for understanding. You smiled, letting go of a satisfied breath through your nose before turning back to the binder.

“Now help me pick a sperm donor so we can get this show on the road,”

#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡#yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets x reader #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #mama!lottie yj

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brighter-by-the-daly · 2 months

Text

Rachel Daly x Reader

Part Six: Dashed Hopes

AN: I know it’s been forever since I added to this series, tbh I thought part 5 would be the end but I kept writing for it and it’s been sitting in my drafts for ages. There’s another part after this but I just gotta figure out how to end it so idk when that will be coming (do we want them to get back together?), just wanted to get something out so I didn’t feel like I’d completely abandoned writing.

In America, off season starts a lot later than in Europe meaning all your friends from back home go off on holiday while you’re still playing competitive football. By the time it was your off season, your friends would be back to work and trying to squeeze in a vacation with them was pretty impossible. You loved visiting your parents and extended family but sometimes you wish you played in the WSL with them so you could have more time together other than international breaks. You weren’t even sure if you’d get called up again but knowing England are competing in America this break gave you a better shot seeing as you’re already here.

Since returning home to The Dash, Rachel had been hard at work trying to win you over again - staying up until the early hours in the morning to be able to call you, often paired with FaceTime. You rarely gave her the same luxury, you didn’t stay up at all hours of the night so you could speak to her and everything was on your terms; every Monday she asks when you’re available and makes sure she calls you in the allotted time frame you give her. It was obvious that she was doing everything within her power to get back with you, whether that meant long distance or you eventually going back home to England.

You looked forward to seeing your national teammates in a few weeks time when England compete in the She Believe’s Cup, it meant that for once, you wouldn’t be doing the 8 hour flight to base camp and they’d all be coming to you! Rachel had been talking about the camp nonstop and didn’t hide her excitement of being able to see you again. She was happy to take what she could get, be that as a friend or even if it just meant acquaintances, at least your were speaking again and that was enough for her. You couldn’t lie that you didn’t look forward to her evening phone calls and the attention she gave you made you feel good but you weren’t allowing her to consume your every thought like before. Propping the phone up on the kitchen counter as you cooked dinner her voice floated through the speaker from another continent, “I saw you got the call up!” she beamed, knowing your fears of Sarina forgetting you existed, “I told you after your World Cup performance, nobody could forget you!” You smiled into your saucepan of steaming pasta, pleased for yourself before sitting on the sofa to eat and stream Love Island. In America the series was being aired 2 weeks behind England and Rachel had avoided all spoilers to watch it with you, she’d often fall asleep half way through and you’d be lying if you didn’t think she looked adorable. Still, you were determined not to get sucked into the facade she played and as soon as her eyes closed you hit the red button. You hadn’t forgotten what she had done the year previous but your feelings towards her had certainly softened.

Reaching the last few games of the season you were mostly packed and ready to fly to South Carolina for the tournament next month. Tying up your boots and trotting out for warm ups ready for your game against the Red Stars you noticed louder than usual cheering when shooting practice began. “Is today something special?” you asked Ebony as you lined up to take shots at goal, she didn’t say anything but subtly nodded upwards towards the East Stand. Looking towards the source of the noise you spotted a familiar face you’d been getting used to seeing through a 6inch screen. ‘What the fuck is she doing here?’ you thought, rolling your eyes at the sight of her hyping up the crowd from her seat. Standing in the middle of the pitch in your bright orange jersey with your hands placed on your hips and an unamused pout, you waited for her to notice you and when she did you pulled a gesture that can only be explained as “what the actual fuck?!” Rushing down the stairs in excitement you’d be cancelled in a second if anyone knew you hoped she’d trip and roll down to the bottom, chuckling to yourself at the thought. “If you wouldn’t come to me, I had to come to you didn’t I!” she shouted, her grin expanding as she neared closer to you. ‘That’s rich’, you thought! “Or an even better idea would have been to not leave in the first place” you said sarcastically, one of your eyebrows raising to display an unamused look that your ex knows all too well. “Hey, be nice. I thought you’d be pleased to see me!” she jeered, acting like she thought her appearance would be like something out of a rom-com. “Shocked more like! You’re wearing my shirt” you said, arms still folded as you spotted your number under the club badge. “Yeah! Bought it at the gift shop, they’re flying off the shelves!” bouncing around to do your signature celebration by pointing at your name on her back, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve seen her with so much energy! Shaking your head in amusement it was time to go and get changed and as you jogged away she shouted out to you “good luck captain!” smiling and waving like a fan girl which was seriously giving you the ick. You turned and stared at her smugly while walking backwards towards the tunnel, “have you seen the league table lately? Don’t need your luck mate, we got this!” Running back up the stairs to her seat she placed herself next to your parents who had agreed to also be bought along for the journey. With everything going on you hadn’t spotted them - it was either that or the fact they were hiding behind their programs!

If you had known your parents were in the crowd you would have celebrated your goal with them but instead you celebrated with the opposite stand, desperate not to give Rachel any more airtime than she probably already had. You tried not to pay any attention to where your ex was sitting the entire game but according to other players (particularly ones that were unfamiliar with what happened between you) she was your biggest cheerleader, barely in her seat the entire game, shouting and cheering at every possibility. You pretended after the match that you hadn’t heard her but her strong northern accent boomed around the stadium; however distracting, you can’t deny that having someone from home in the stands pushed you on.

Shaking hands and making your way around the field to thank both teams you finally looked up to see not only the blonde but... “Mum? Dad?” you screamed, shielding the sun out of your eyes long enough to see it was undeniably your parents. Launching yourself over the barrier faster than Usain Bolt you sprinted up the steps towards the back of the stands as your dad came bounding down towards you, scooping you into one of his giant bear hugs as you met in the middle. Your mum quickly wrapped her arms around you both to stop your dad from falling over from the shear force you threw yourself at him. Rachel watched everything unfold from afar, a tear rolling down her cheek knowing bringing them along had made you so happy. Surely you’d have to forgive her now, right?!

Rachel stayed until the end of the season, spending time getting to know each other again like it was the beginning. She came to every single one of your games and this time, it was her wearing your name on her back. For so many years it was the other way around when you didn’t play on the same team; you’d go to watch her but Rachel being in a higher league barely had time to show up to your games. Your walls may have been broken down easily but the team certainly hadn’t forgotten what she did to you and how they had to rebuild you after she left. It was extremely messy, it wasn’t a secret that you two were dating and the fans very quickly realised the 6 year relationship was over when Rach abruptly announced her departure from The Dash. Conspiracies and rumours flew around the internet for months trying to guess what had happened and who was the victim - Rach being the bigger name tended to get the most sympathy. You know you shouldn’t have read the comments online but you couldn’t help yourself and it nearly drowned you, if it wasn’t for your teammates you never would have made it out the other side. Now club captain, you had made your own name for yourself, no longer riding off the back of Rachel’s multi continental fame. You are (y/f/n) - striker, captain and leader. You are so much more than Rachel Daly’s ex girlfriend.

Since her return, the rumours had started spiralling again – ‘had they broken up?’, ‘are they back together?’, ‘is Rachel trying to take her back to England?’ – it was relentless! On the last game of the season, Rachel was invited to make a speech at half time, stating how proud of the team she was and how Houston still feels like home to her. She donned a specially made jersey and given a commemorative photo album to take home with her. You couldn’t stand it and waited in the changing room until she’d dispersed back to the stand. She did do a lot for the team when she was here but it’s your turn now, you’re sick of still being in her shadow even when she doesn’t play here anymore! The back stabby feeling stuck around for a while, bitter that the fans and club still loved her, she even handed out the medals for winning the league! Having to stand there and shake her hand, accepting the trophy from her to take to the rest of the team made you want to drop it onto her foot but you saved face and smiled politely when inside you were dying. Just when you think she’s doing everything right lately, she does everything wrong… again!

Celebrating in the changing room you’d had a little too much to drink when she burst in, keen to join in the party. ‘Oh no fucking way’ you muttered under your breath, slamming your bottle down on the table a little to hard and pushing her right back out of the door she’d just entered from. “This isn’t your party, why are you here?” you slurred, becoming a little braver with your words now your body was filled with alcohol. “I just thought-” she started before you cut her off, “no, you didn’t think! This is my first win as captain and you’re here to take over!” your voice becoming louder and louder, earning you a few stares from passing staff. Even after everything that happened, you couldn’t believe that the club had asked her to be such a huge part of todays celebrations, everyone knows what she did and half of them helped her do it. They watched you for months trying to become yourself again after the worst heartbreak you had ever endured and still thought making it all about her was a good idea! “Just leave, I want to celebrate with my friends” you ended your rant, exhausted with still having to fight with her. “Okay” she nodded solemnly, “have a good night” her head bowed as her feet swivelled and she walked off. “Right!” bursting back into the changing room, “let’s get this party started!!!”

#rachel daly #rachel daly x reader #lionesses #lionessss x reader #woso x reader #woso masterlist #woso series #woso fic #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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grumpypixistix · 4 months

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Can you do one where Y/N is a spider woman and her and Miguel are in a relationship. Even though he claims to like to work alone, most of his missions involved her. After a verve racking mission, Miguel and Y/N play a game of cat and mouse throughout the city, just let off steam. Miguel eventually catches Y/N (she lets him), and they have a little make out scene (no smut, just a good make out scene)

Of course I can, lovely! :) ❤️

(Also i sincerely apologize for the wait! I hope you enjoy)

Run and hide

Miguel O’Hara x Spider!reader

Warnings- No smut just a make out session, being hunted down(?)

A/N- Was this only supposed to take a few days to make? Yes. Did it take me over 2 weeks to finish? ….maybe- (but jokes aside, I’m so sorry for the delay. My mental health isn’t the best at the moment and I was very drained for a while. But I’m a little better now! Please feel free to request more stuff and I’ll get to it when I have the chance!)

Miguel always claimed that he liked to work alone, even though everyone seemed to notice otherwise. Most of the missions he went on, he always brought you with. Whenever anyone would ask about this, he was quick to shut it down, claiming it was purely coincidental.

But you knew that was a lie. And so did he.

The two of you had been in a secret relationship for quite some time, and the two of you agreed to keep it that way for the sake of keeping the Spider-verse together. The last thing Miguel needed was his workers nagging him about you 24/7, especially Peter. You were fine with this, knowing how stressed Miguel could get easily, especially with his job as the leader of the Spider Society.

But it wasn’t until you two went on another mission together when things started going downhill. Plan after plan got ruined, which ended up in nearly getting the both of you killed. It caused a lot of pent up emotions inside of Miguel, the idea of you getting hurt or even killed making his stomach churn and tighten.

So after barely escaping the mission, Miguel came up with an idea to let off some steam. He needed it, and you knew it. With that knowledge in mind, you agreed to the idea, even though he didn’t give a lot of details as to what the idea was. But since you had just escaped a hellish mission with him, you were open to anything.

Miguel opened up a portal in front of you, noticing your confused expression. He then set a timer on his watch, looking up at you.

“I’ll give you a 30 second head start. That should give you enough time to get ahead of me…” Miguel spoke lowly, tilting his head towards the direction of the portal.

You stood there for a few seconds, still a little confused.

“You want me to… run away from you?” You questioned.

Miguel just stared at you in silence, slightly nodding his head.

“I suggest you start now. You’re down to 24 seconds.”

Your eyes widened as you quickly bolted towards the portal, entering into the heart of the city. You began to swing with your webs through the gaps of the large buildings, quickly finding an abandoned building and hanging from the ceiling. You tried to blend in with the darkness of the shadows, making sure to not make a single noise. After some fidgeting around and making sure you were secured, the faint woosh of the portal was heard from afar.

You couldn’t trace where the exact location of the sound was.

Adrenaline rushed through your veins as you tried desperately to look around for Miguel, making sure you were still hidden in the process. Once he finally came into your view, your breath was caught in your throat. You quietly crawled across the ceiling and out of the window, just in time for him to turn his head up to catch a glimpse of your suit colors. Miguel muttered to himself and clicked his tongue, shooting his web and exiting from the same window you had crawled out of.

He didn’t know why, but the hunt made him feel… better. It made him feel like he was finally in control of a situation for once. And hunting you down made it even more thrilling for him, since he knew you wouldn’t get hurt.

And honestly, you could say the same. Trying to run and hide from Miguel made you forget all about the dangerous mission, since you weren’t in any real harm this time. It was just to blow off steam, and it worked.

During the time Miguel had noticed you exit, you had made it far enough away from the building you were in.

At least you thought it was far enough.

You had swung at least 6 buildings south of where you initially were, so there was no way he’d be able to find you… right?

Entering through the fire escape on the roof, you managed to stay hidden once more. The whole building was dark and cold, but you were able to see from the glow-up suit Miguel had made for you. You guided yourself through the building from the light source and found the stairwell, jumping through the gap and landing on the ground floor. And as you continued to look for the exit on the floor, you could hear a faint thud from a few floors up.

Again, not knowing where the source came from, adrenaline rushed through your body once more.

You ran through the dimly lit floor, trying desperately to look for the exit. As you did so, the sound became louder… and closer. The more you ran and searched for the exit, the closer the sound got and you couldn’t find the exit. The more doors you ran through, the more lost you became. You panted and tried to catch your breath, hiding from whatever the noise was caused by.

But then the noise stopped. It was completely silent.

You could hear your thumping heartbeat in your ears, your breath still heavy from running around. You waited for what felt like hours before growing the courage to move around again. After finally being able to calm down and think straight, you looked for the exit as quietly as possible.

But as you tried to move again, you felt a pair of large hands grab you and lift you from behind.

You gasped loudly and felt your back slam up against the wall, making eye contact with whoever it was that grabbed you.

It was Miguel.

He had a relieved expression on his face, forming into a small grin.

“Finally caught you” Miguel panted out softly, cupping your face as he pinned you against the wall.

You didn’t even fight back and keep the game up. You let him take you.

A quiet chuckle left your lips as you returned the grin.

“You’re lucky I let you” You teased, eyes flicking to Miguel’s lips and back up to his dark eyes.

A mutter left Miguel’s mouth as he chuckled and kissed you, taking his time as he held you close. His kisses were soft and passionate, his hands moving from cupping your face to gripping your waist. Your hands ran through his hair as you kissed him with just as much passion, trying to catch your breath with each pause.

But Miguel always pulled you right back into another kiss, not wanting to let go of you whatsoever. After the mission, that was the last thing he wanted to do. But being able to catch you was like a reward to him. His hands trailed everywhere on your body, his tongue slipping into your mouth with a soft moan.

After moments of the heated kiss, the two of you finally pulled away for some air. You looked up at Miguel’s eyes as you panted softly, hands resting on his chest. Miguel stared back at you for a few quiet seconds before letting out a sigh and shaking his head.

“I’m definitely not letting you split up with me on missions now… you’re gonna stick to my side no matter what, got that?” Miguel said lowly, his hands moving up to cup your face once more.

You look and him and slowly nod your head, one of your hands moving to cup over his.

“Okay… I’m sorry I did that, it was a stupid idea anyways-“

Miguel cut you off with a firm kiss to your lips, gently tugging on your bottom lip.

“Don’t say that, cariño. It wasn’t stupid, you were just doing your job. You gave suggestions when the situation needed it… that’s not stupid.”

A sigh left your lips as you looked up at him, a small smile on your face. You moved a little to kiss his cheek, a soft blush on both of your faces.

“Thank you… really.”

Miguel smiled at you and chuckled before kissing your forehead and lips.

“Of course” He whispered back before taking a step away to open a portal back home.

You looked over at the portal and back at Miguel, taking his hand into yours and giving it a small squeeze. Miguel looks back at you and holds your hand as well.

“Ready to go back?” Miguel asks you.

You nod and pull him in for one last kiss, “Never wanted to go back more than now.”

A small laugh left Miguel as you said that, kissing you back and pulling you into the portal.

After that day, Miguel made it into a routine to hunt you around the city after missions, always catching you and bringing you back home safely.

#sorry this took so long #mental health sucks #miguel 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #atsv #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel atsv

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blingblong55 · 1 year

Text

Last Words of a Shooting Star-141+Los Vaqueros

pt.1

Heard you liked the first part, so heres this one!

Gn!reader, platonic!relationship

In the span of 5 months the team had lost all control of any other operation. Laswell let Price know it was time to take things easy. It happened when Soap and Gaz committed a few mistakes on a short operation that had happened a week after you arrival. "my men can do this." he protested, "No, and I can't have any casualties happen on my watch, you take care of your people and when all is good...I'll make and evaluation and put you back on the field. Take it slow." was all she had said. Ghost was furious, not even a 'are they okay' or anything, he started to understand why Alex had left.

3 months you had been gone out of their site. 2 months of recovery and many arguments between the team had occurred. 1 month of you being awake and fully conscious.

"it was all your fault. You had to get them away, didn't ya?" Gaz had spoken to a already upset Price. They had all been drinking that night. Except Ghost and Soap. Those two never left your side, if one had to shower the other would look after you.

Soap:

Tears left his already tired eyes.

It was only to you that he had full conversations with, always telling jokes to see your eyes shine once more.

Every morning he would take off and prepare you breakfast, the same one you would make him when he was in recovery for a wound.

"This time I added my mums recipe, and that awful syrup we have." he'd say, earning a small chuckle from you.

"Where would I be without my mactavish?" your smile brightening your friends soul. "Not alive, for sure."

It was always a joke, that if either of you got injured the other would be the servant, and it was their duty to make jokes of the situation.

When Alejandro was in the room, he would like to butcher his Spanish.

"thats not how you say it, pendejo!"

God did your giggles bring joy to him

he would do anything that was too stupid just to get a reaction off of you.

Gaz:

He resented price for so long, until the night you and him talked about it, eventually you told him "it wasn't on him, or you. This time it was just a minor fuck up."

He drank a lot, he wasn't a drinker before, but now he is.

You rarely saw him, it was always blowing off steam or training with Ghost.

He and Ghost were secretly planning revenge.

Although he was upset at you, for reasons he still wasn't sure about, you always woke up to fresh flowers and get well balloons.

When he was upset about how he'd been treating you, he would usually go back to your room, and play your music. It was therapy for him.

I know people say he is all fun and games, but for a long time he wasn't. His whole demeanor had changed, and it was for the worst.

At times he let Ghost hurt him, he thought maybe he can earn all of the pain you went through this way.

He stopped crying once you woke up. But that didn't mean his heart ached for his best friend.

Price:

he blamed himself for it all.

Never did he step in your room.

He stopped smoking, swore he needed to clear his head, but in reality, it was you who smoked with him. His mouth in his cigar, a cigarette on yours. Telling stories and laughing.

You were a mini him, his best version of himself.

He behind everyones back caught the main guy, and while he was out "gathering intel for the hopeful next mission" he would go down to a safe house. For hours he would beat the shit out of the man.

Although Gaz blamed him for it all and for most he knew it was him to blame, everyone saw him calm, he slept better at night. Even apologized to Gaz for the pain he had caused.

While you were in recovery, he would ask the medical staff on updates.

He sent you flowers, but he would keep one, and once he would notice the flower was dying, he would buy more.

He added more security around base, men always stood outside of your room.

He installed cameras everywhere, and unfortunately he saw his team fall apart, he saw how soap was running out of energy, how Gaz walked into your room and cried, how Ghost though mighty and strong lost his strength, the person who was sunshine and hope soon became the kryptonite.

When alone, he would look at your file, and sometimes stare at pictures where you held enemies or evidence in your arms. Your smile wide, your team stood proud, "what a life you've lived, kid" he would whisper, regret coming back and making him cry.

Alejandro:

Much like price, he kept one of the men that had tortured you

He took his sweet time torturing that man, sometimes he would forget blood was smeared on his body.

"¿qué es eso?" Rudy would ask, "mi almuerzo" he'd respond.

He would rarely be with you instead he would always busy himself cleaning your room.

One time some stupid rookie started playing Amor Eterno (super sad song in Spanish..thanks google,,,now its ME crying).

He started crying because he imagined a life where you weren't there, one where you had never made it out of the infirmary.

I don't think anyone understands how much you resembled his family, your stories where your family didn't treat you right and how you had found comfort in his family.

You so smart but so dumb when it came to common sense.

Much like his little sisters, they lacked common sense, good thing you knew more.

Rudy:

He would call his mom, asked for any soup recipe she can give. And he would make it for you.

"Una vez que comas esto, comenzarás a sentirte mejor." he would say as you were fed by him and soap.

After a while of looking he would find the photograph of you and his siblings. He carried it everywhere.

This man was the one who sneaked you out to go look at the stars, your excuse was "this is a comet that passes once in a lifetime, por favor rudy, si te gusto, harás esto conmigo."

He read to you after he heard from the medics you had night terrors.

You made him promise to not look for revenge, it was stupid and not kind. "You'll get hurt, hermano."

Yes at time he cried but it stopped very soon.

Rudy also changed, he wasn't so kind or at least he tried looking rough, this man has a kind look in his eyes so it was hard to change his stereotype.

As comfort he brought his blanket replacing the one the staff had given you.

Lots of hugs because he also needed reassurance of your current state, (don't you dare tell me he isn't like this bc I know he is)

Ghost:

He rarely slept, the bags under his eyes called him out. and after much hesitation, he slept, but only when he was around you.

The days he trained with Gaz, he thought of you. His best soldier and only family member (I know he has the other guys but the bond you and him had created was further from any of his relationships with the other men)

On some of your bad days he would go and collect a small flowers, it was a promise he had to fulfill, "if either you or I get hurt, we get small flowers and hide them in Soaps awful hair." "agree" he grins at the commitment, so small but so important to him.

One time he found out what price had hidden, so he followed him and once price was back at base, he took his round with the man. He made sure to keep him close to death and near life.

Every night when soap would go out, he would sing to you. "Gosh you need lessons Simon" you would joke. "as if your voice wasn't;t worse" he replied.

Beautiful boy was the one song you two sang when needed, only 3 times has that song been sung, and the next one would be at either yours or his funeral.

He hugged you without every hurting you, he told jokes and stories. The ones only he and the stars had heard, you like the comet were an anomaly, a once in a lifetime listener.

He showed you how to mask the scars he knew you'd be conscience about, "now lift the sleeve and turn it up a little." he instructed and watched as you got desperate and gave up.

"such loser mentality." "shut up."

A/n: I'm so glad you all enjoyed the first part. Thank you for reading this one too!

REQUEST ARE OPEN!!

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writingjourney · 1 year

Text

ziplocked love pt. 2 | dew x fem!reader

Summary: Dewdrop is away on tour and you’re struggling more than you care to admit to him.

Content: 4k words, fluff, a bit of angst, smut (18+ only, facetime sex, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, nudes), more soft dew, more banter, aether being a cutie

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Ao3 link

Again, this is 18+ only because it contains explicit content. I am already preparing for this to vastly underperform xD Thanks to everyone for your help with the donuts! Hope you enjoy!

⸻

Summary: Dew is away on tour and you’re struggling more than you care to admit to him.

One big advantage of living in the ghoul’s den is that they have their own kettle. You don’t need to walk all the way to the kitchens for the comforts of a late night tea. Instead all you have to do is carry your mug from the kitchen area down the hall to Dew’s bedroom, lock the door and settle into your pile of blankets. The tea doesn’t warm you up quite as well as your boyfriend does, but the options are limited and you take what you can get.

Your phone buzzes right when you take the first sip.

S: Send me a hot pic to keep me going ‘til I’m alone later, baby.🍑

You smile at your screen and contemplate Dew’s request, staring at the peach emoji he added. You could just do it or… No. You end up sending a pic of your steaming tea mug instead.

Y: Like this?

D: Haha.

Y: Have to be more specific.

He doesn’t reply for another five minutes. The ritual starts soon and with the time difference, it’s getting late for you. While waiting, you try to snap a seductive picture of your baby blue panties. You’re wearing Dew’s shirt with a big inverted pentagram on it but his smell has already faded and even though his room does still smell like him, it feels like you’re taking over more and more. He’s only gone for a month but time stretches so long these days.

D: Skin, baby. Please.

You send him one of the pics you just took, your hip only covered by the tiny panties, the hem of the shirt visible at the edge right where your belly starts. Y: Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.

D: Cute.

You frown at the screen. Y: That’s all I get?

D: Babe, if you want more you have to send more.

Y: And what do I get?

D: Compliments.

Y: Nah, thanks. I know I’m hot.

You think you got him, watch the three dots on the screen blinking, then stopping, then blinking again. He’s probably speechless now, used to you revelling in his praise, maybe you can even get him to beg. But no. You lose the game, the dots disappear. Never gamble with a demon.

You startle when the device starts vibrating a second later. As always, his picture lighting up your screen makes your heart flutter. You saved him under Little Menace after you learned that he saved you under Little Minx. Seeing the name always makes you smile.

„Hey, handsome,“ you say. „Calling to beg?“

Dew scoffs. „Calling to hear your voice since you won’t give me anything else.“

„Aw, I love you, too.“

„Babe,“ he warns.

„What?“

„Is it so bad that I miss your body?“

You chuckle. „No, but you already have a ton of nudes.“

„I need new ones every day, you can’t expect me to be happy with the one hundred and fifty-three that I have!“ He sighs when you don’t answer. „You just love being mean to me. Letting me starve.“

„I do. Because you’re cute when you get desperate.“

„All I heard was I’m cute and I agree.“ He hums, a happy drawn-out sound that makes you smile. „Okay, I have a proposal. You send me a pic. A really good pic. And later, when I use it, I’m recording that for you.“

„I’m listening.“

„What, that’s not enough?“

„No, I have a bunch of nut vids of you. And I’ll be asleep by then. Where’s the excitement?“

You’re teasing him. Of course it’s enough, of course you’re happy with any crumb he throws your way. He often sends you pictures of himself in front of the venues they’re performing at or just random things he finds interesting and you eat it all up. Last week he sent you a pic of some random person’s cat, saying it reminded him of you, and you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face for hours.

„How about I add some extra pictures? Come on, you’re getting a video and a bunch of pics for just one nude. Great deal, if you ask me.“

You can’t help but chuckle. „Hmmmm. Alright, I think that’s okay.“

„You’re messing with me. You know fully well that you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, you little minx.“

„You’re just very horny,“ you say, smirking at the use of the nickname. „Making deals while horny is never a good idea, baby. Shouldn’t you know that, as a student of the infernal dealmaker?“

„I do know that but you left me no choice.“ He pauses and you wish you could see him. „Wait a sec. How the hell did you manage to trick me when I’m the one who’s supposed to trick humans?“ You hear shuffling on his side, a door, voices. „Fuck, I need to get ready. I love you, baby. And send the fucking pic, I swear it’s urgent.“

With that he’s gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, the sudden quiet surrounding you like a heavy fog. You’d sell your soul to have him here. But then again you kind of already sold it, agreeing to a romantic relationship with a demonic creature. It’s all fun and games up until the moment you realise they’re not human, that their emotions, their whole minds work in mysterious ways you don’t always understand.

You snap Dew the picture he wanted, trying to bury the doubts, six feet under. He misses you, you know it. Of course what he misses most is touching you because that’s the one thing you can’t do over phones, but it’s not like your body is the only thing he misses, right?

Unless ghouls don’t feel like that. They are eternal creatures, forged in the ever-burning fires of hell. What’s a few earthly months to them? And he has so many distractions, he has no time to properly miss you.

The thought stings more than it should. It’s not his fault. You know who you’re in love with and he does the best he can. You know he’s already way out of his comfort zone, being committed to you, why can’t you stop wanting more?

After sending him a better photo, you change into sweatpants and a hoodie. No point in looking sexy now and it’s cold in the ghoul’s den, your tea already lukewarm. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you’re sleeping in Dew’s room, snide comments by Siblings and hushed whispers when you come up the stairs a daily occurrence. But no one has stopped you yet and so you continue to wrap his blankets around you, bury your face in his pillow until you’re close to suffocating.

Even now, you sometimes find one of his silky long hairs in bed or wake up with one of his blond lashes stuck to your cheek. Missing him always feels hardest in those tiny moments – pulling a new shirts out for you to wear and remembering the last time he wore it. Passing by one of the spots in the abbey that he kissed you in. Or fucked you in. Sometimes he just stops you in the hallway to nibble at your neck and tell you he loves you. And you half expect him to do it before remembering that he’s gone. Because he is gone and yet he’s everywhere. Walking around the abbey feels heavy now, the echos of these moments following your every step.

You close your eyes, reminding yourself that in two weeks you’re going to fly out to see him. You can only visit for a few days and then he’ll be gone for another month. But it’s better than nothing, it’s better than whatever this here is.

You’re not sure when your basic bodily functions became dependent on someone else.

Okay, that is dramatic. You know you can live without Dew, you don’t really need him for survival.

But ever since he left, you sleep like shit.

There is just something about the empty bed that depresses you. It’s not even the lack of sex, even though him tiring you out most days probably does help, but you’re pretty sure it’s being alone with your thoughts that wakes your insomnia again. Before Dew, these nights were frequent. You’ve gotten used to discussing your days with him, receiving his comfort and undivided attention, clearing your head before it hit the pillow.

Now, you’re just alone with yourself again.

The longer he’s gone, the more sleep-deprived you are. It doesn’t help that you’re on kitchen duty all week, getting up at five a.m. to help with breakfast and then nearly falling asleep during Morning Mass a few hours later. The same exhausting rhythm every day, slowly grinding you like wheat in a mill, until you’re nothing but dust.

When Dew finally FaceTimes you on their day off on Thursday with a five hour time difference you’re knackered and emotionally drained. For him, it’s still a young evening. For you, it’s midnight on day four of this agonising cycle.

You answer with a forced smile that turns into a genuine one once you see his face. „Hey, baby.“

„Hey, babe.“ He’s lying in a hotel bed, white pillow propped up behind him. „You look so beautiful.“

„Thanks.“ He’s either lying or the dim light in his room hides the bags under your eyes. But you take it nonetheless, any kind word welcome. „You look really handsome, too.“

„I’ve been thinking about you so much today.“ He sighs dramatically. „See, we were at this donut place and they had all your favorites. It felt wrong not to get you anything.“

You hum. „Sounds great. What’d you get?“

„Thought about getting Boston Cream but then they had Red Velvet, so I couldn’t not get that. I mean, it was red.“

„Why am I not surprised?“

„Aw, baby you know I like stuffing my mouth with sweet red things.“

You can’t fight the smirk. „Was it good?“

„It was incredible but nothing compared to your taste,“ he says. „Which is also something I’ve been thinking about all day.“

„Are you alone?“

The inquiry is stupid. Literally any of the other ghouls would have been heard snickering or crudely commenting by now. But for some reason the question alone feels seductive.

„Yea, Aeth is over at Rain’s for an hour or so. We’re all by ourselves.“

An hour is good. You can muster enough energy for that.

„How about you show me what’s under that black t-shirt, then?“ you ask.

„Will you show me what’s under yours?“

„Trying to bargain again?“

Dew smirks. „Always.“

You both shed your layers until you’re completely bare and it’s exciting to watch it only via small frames, tiny glimpses, to hear the shuffling but not see all of it just yet. You catch a pierced nipple, a stretch of bare, charcoal skin, the beginnings of his happy trail, slender muscles and boney joints, his hair spilling over his shoulders, until he’s done and holding you up to his face. You can tell he’s flushed, not only horny but properly turned on, ready to do the nasty things you’ve been dreaming of ever since your last phone date. You wish you were more awake, more in tune with yourself.

„You’re so beautiful,“ you say. „I miss touching all of this.“

He smirks. „Me too. Show me more of you, baby.“

You know he wants to see your breasts, they’re pretty much already in frame anyway, and you squeeze your arms together to push them up some more. Dew gives an appreciative hum, followed by a wistful sigh.

„Touch your nipples for me,“ he says. „I want to see them perk up. Like they do when I blow on them.“

You do as he says, moving your fingers over your breasts, circling your areola, squeezing, then rolling your nipple between two fingers, all while watching over the screen how he starts stroking himself. He’s hard and beautiful, veiny and slick with his own spit. It really gets you going to watch him, even though you hate that you don’t get to touch him in any way. He’s already leaking, the skin of his boney fingers glistening wetly. You lick your lips, trying to conjure up his taste, to imagine his hands touching you right now. For a second you close your eyes and it’s almost real. You run a tentative hand down your belly, finding your pussy dripping, waiting, aching for him.

„I’m so wet, baby.“ You whimper when you brush your clit. „So, so wet.“

„Show me.“

It always takes you a while to get comfortable wielding around your phone, to stop worrying about the camera angle or if it looks weird in any way. In the dim lighting, your curves look soft, your skin ashen, almost like it’s dressed in shadows, and you hope it translates. When you move the camera between your legs and play with your arousal, Dew groans.

„Fuck, I can’t believe I don’t get to taste this,“ he says. „I would kill a man to eat you out right now.“

You smile, mostly because you know he’s not exaggerating. But at the same time, you’re aching for his cock far more than for his mouth, mostly because you really need his lips on yours. You want his whole body surrounding you when his tongue pushes past your lips. The lack of kissing during phone sex is infuriating.

„Babe, I can’t see you,“ you complain. He gets sloppy when he’s focused on you.

„Right, sorry.“

He readjusts the camera. „Better?“

„Yea.“

„You think you can show me if you’re ready for me?“

It’s easy to imagine he’s sprawled out beside you, giving you orders to touch yourself before he does. You’ve done that before. So you slowly push a finger inside of you, testing the waters before you add a second one. „So ready,“ you say. „Please.“

He curses but you can’t keep your eyes open. It’s painful to know he’s not gonna do it for you, no matter how much you’re begging. You pump your fingers into your dripping cunt but they’re not as long as his, not as nimble. And they certainly don’t stretch you like his cock does.

„Doing so good, baby. I know you’d take me so well.“ His voice is strained, you know he’s pretty far along, his hand moving faster now, rhythmic, obscene sounds coming out of your speakers. They’re not as clear, not as melodious, muffled by the microphone.

Nevertheless they have the same effect on you. „Mhm, Dew.“

„Keep going,“ he says, groaning as his hand moves over his length. You only vaguely register what he’s doing, too busy with yourself. You wish you had your second hand to touch your breasts or even better, to squeeze your throat like he does. It’s not enough stimulation, not enough to drown out your thoughts, the white noise buzzing in your brain, making it hard to let go.

„You have to keep talking,“ you say, knowing it’s the only way you’re gonna come. „Please.“

„Fuck, you just have to imagine it’s me. I’d fuck you so good, you’d scream down the whole abbey.“ Another groan, faster sounds. „You’re doing so well, baby. I can see how much you want me, keep giving me those pretty noises. Make yourself feel good for me, huh. So damn good. Shit, that’s my girl, my good. fucking. girl.“

You tumble over the edge when you hear Dew’s unrestrained moans and whimpers mixing with your own, the slick sounds of his hand spreading his seed over his length as he rides out his orgasm. His groans fill your ears as you press your fingers into your spongy walls, trying to reach higher. It’s intense, despite the lack of body contact, and you feel your heart clenching in your chest. It’s pleasure mixed with a range of other sensations you can’t quite place. Already you can feel your emotions whirling around, thoughts becoming muddled again. You fight back, to cling to sweet oblivion for a while longer, but you’re too vulnerable right now and it takes all the restraint you can muster to bite back a physical reaction. All you want to do is cry like a baby, to let it all spill out.

But Dew is still there, he can’t know.

„Fuck that was so much better than the fucking donut.“ You hear a few more deep breaths. „Aight, baby, I’m just gonna clean up and get dressed before Aether comes back.“

He’s gone then, camera facing the white hotel ceiling as you vaguely hear running water in the background. It allows you to let out the sob you’ve been holding in and the tears fall on their own accord. Your body is sensitive, you’re stripped bare not only physically. You put the phone away, face down so he can’t see you weeping but the quiet only lasts a few seconds.

Because of course he can still hear.

„Are you crying?“ he asks, shuffling back onto the bed.

You fight another sob. „No.“

„Baby, show me your pretty face.“

„No.“

„Hey, don’t shut me out.“

His velvety soft tone makes you pick the phone back up, pouting into the camera as you try to fight back more tears. There is no way you can get rid of the grimace on your face but he doesn’t show it; his face is scrunched up, brows knit together in concern. He’s wearing a black t-shirt now and you miss seeing his bare chest.

„What’s wrong?“ His voice drips with worry. „Baby, tell me.“

„I’m sorry.“ You sniffle. „I’m so sorry, I ruined it.“

„No, no, it’s fine.“

„I don’t know what’s wrong with me.“

„That’s okay, it’s all too much, huh?“

All you can muster is a weak nod, closing your eyes to fight the approaching headache.

„What can I do to make it better?“ Dew asks.

Come home.

But you know the request is unfair and you don’t really want him to. You know he loves touring, he’s having the time of his life based on what you see in all the videos and you want him to soak up all of it. You’re just being selfish, codependent and clingy. And you don’t want to be selfish, codependent and clingy. You want to give him the space he deserves.

„Nothing,“ you say. „I can handle it.“

„You’ve been a bit off for a while now but I figured you’d tell me if something was wrong,“ Dew says. „You trust me, right?“

„I don’t know what you mean. Of course I trust you.“

He ignores you. „Is it just missing me? Or something else?“

You frown. Just missing him. For some reason this feels like the wrong answer. Just missing him. He’s obviously doing so much better than you.

You swallow, the lump in your throat making it painful. „You know orgasms make me emotional.“

„Baby, this is not that and we both know it.“

He gives you a minute to search for an answer which is fair and very unlike him and his impulsive nature. You appreciate his patience and to see his handsome face so full of concern eases your worries. He’s trying so hard for you. You don’t need to hide.

„I sleep really bad,“ you admit, looking away. „And yea, I really fucking miss you.“

„You’ll be here soon, though. In a week.“

„Yea.“

„You can do it, right?“

„Yea, I’ll manage. I can handle it,“ you say, barely hiding your irritation. „I told you.“

„Hey, don’t be snappy.“

You look back into the camera. His face is surprisingly soft, not upset like you expected. He looks beautiful with his hair slightly messy like that, eyes still glinting with that post-orgasmic bliss.

„I miss you, too. You know that, right?“

„Yes.“

„And I can’t wait to see you.“

„Mhm.“

He scoffs. „I can’t wait to see you too, Dew,“ he says in a high-pitched voice, a poor imitation of yours. „I love you sooo much.“

Despite yourself, you smile. „Idiot. I don’t sound like that.“

„Look, there’s my baby.“ He smiles. „So fucking pretty.“

His words cement the happy expression on your face. It feels good to hear him say it, feels good to have him cheer you up. His virtual comfort is a bandaid that’ll carry you over the next week. Seeing him will be a proper remedy.

„I guess I’m just really tired,“ you say in defeat. „I’ve been on kitchen duty all week which means getting up at five and then I can’t sleep until three most nights.“

„You’re running on two hours of sleep?“

„That’s being generous, yea.“

„Now I’m not surprised you randomly start crying,“ he says. „I would have most likely killed someone by now.“

You giggle. „Oh, yea, you would’ve.“

A door opens and Dew groans in annoyance.

„Heeeeey,“ you hear Aether calling. „You decent?“

Dew rolls his eyes. „No.“

„You are, you liar.“

Aether comes into frame, plopping down behind Dew and pulling him close to his chest, saying your name. „Hi.“

„Hi, Aeth.“

„You look pretty,“ he says.

„Stop staring at her boobs,“ Dew says. „Baby get a shirt. He’s ogling you.“

You roll your eyes and put the phone to the side, slipping into the shirt from earlier. „I don’t know why you care, he saw me so many times by now.“

„Only because he doesn’t know what knocking is.“

„Hey, if you don’t lock the door that’s like an invitation,“ Aether says. „Besides, your girlfriend loves when I come over to cuddle at night because then she can finally be someone’s little spoon.“

„What are you talking about? She loves being the big spoon. Don’t you, baby?“

You grin. „I love both.“

Dew makes a face while Aether’s smile widens. He squeezes Dew to his chest, engulfing him in a hug that is so tight he almost drops the phone. „You are very small spoon shaped,“ Aether says. „I get it.“

„Fuck you,“ Dew replies.

„Wish I could squeeze myself in there,“ you say with a sad smile.

Dew’s eyes find yours over the display and he gives you a knowing look, aware of your pain, but Aether doesn’t seem bothered.

„If you want something to cuddle with you can take my huge banana plushie, that’s basically Dew’s size anyway,“ he offers, then snickers. „Well, the size of his body.“

Dew makes to complain but you interrupt him. „Thanks, that’s a nice idea. Hey, if you two are tired, we can just say goodnight.“

„No, we’re not tired,“ Dew exclaims. „It’s only eight.“

„I am tired,“ Aether says.

„Not my problem.“

„It’s okay,“ you say. „I can just…“

„No, I want to fall asleep with you.“ Dew awkwardly wriggles free from Aether’s grasp. „Or watch you fall asleep at least. Would that help with your sleeping issues?“

„Maybe.“

„She has sleeping issues?“ Aether asks.

„Stop listening in,“ Dew chides. „This is a private conversation. Private. Do you want me to spell it out?“

„It’s not private. We’re in the same room. I can’t not hear you.“

„Try harder?“

While they bicker, you put the phone away, clean yourself with a tissue and finally pull the covers over your shivering body. Then you prop the phone up on Dew’s pillow. After a few tries you get it to stand so you don’t have to hold it anymore. It takes a few more minutes until Dew has his bed for himself again and you see his face.

„Want to try and sleep?“ he asks. „I’ll just… hang around until you do.“

„You don’t have to.“

„I don’t want you to fall asleep alone and sad. So, yea I have to.“

You reluctantly nod and close your eyes. You are tired, or at least your muscles are, getting heavier by the second. You’re almost asleep when you hear his voice again, a whisper that gives you goosebumps.

„Hey, baby? I love you.“

You smile. „I love you, too.“

Somewhere in the background you hear Aether call over the buzz of a toothbrush. „I love you, too!“

⸻

I hope this was at least a little bit of what you wanted it to be because ngl I don't do well with the pressure of expectations. I can see myself writing a part 3 with a reunion, so lmk if you'd want that. Prequel is in the works, too. Feedback is as always much appreciated and a big motivation for any writer, remember this is not the clock app and we're real people. Have a nice day friends and thanks for reading!

Part 3 here

#sodo x reader #dewdrop x reader #sodo smut #dewdrop smut #sodo ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #sodo x you #ghost fanfiction #reader insert #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #sodo x fem!reader #fanfiction #dewdrop x you

373 notes · View notes

tricitymonsters · 10 months

Text

This is mostly taken from my kickstarter update but I wanted to post it here for yall too.

Tri City Monsters has funded at 141% with the help of 273 backers! The total raised was $7,064!!

Firstly, I want to say thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart for helping me make this game. For backers to trust and believe in the project to make pledges literally just makes my stupid little goblin heart swell. I had someone pledge over $300. I had an ARMY of $2 and $5 pledges that did so much heavy lifting together and everything in between. I had snipers down at the last second putting pledges in. It's insane!

Beyond pledges though, I want to specifically thank everyone who took time to play the game on itch, who wishlisted on steam, who talked about it on socials, who drew or made posts or wrote about it. Your effort to get the game seen was fucking HUGE. And it WORKED. TCM doesn't have a formal marketing budget- while I did save up and set aside some specific money this month for blaze posts and some other ad runs, the fact of the matter is that you guys did a ton of heavy lifting and I don't make the kind of money it would take to buy those numbers. (Not a lot of indies do, that's how much you guys pushed).

I want to cringe call out/ profusely thank @booket-png as the game's lead artist but also as a huge and wonderful help in all the design work that's constantly being done with this thing, @epoch-smog for tolerating me posting their drawings constantly, plus @coyoxxtl, @rainmonarch, @mineshaft-birdie, @gedankenmoon ALL of whom are a constant support team and also blorbo crucible who tell me to keep making Kazu taller and his tits bigger like a little pack of shoulder devils when I waffle.

Sometimes they say raising a kid takes a village and I'd like to add that making indie games takes a community. So! Not to belabor the point but THANK YOU!

To business:

As mentioned in during the campaign, I will be using Pledgebox to help me organize orders and move ahead with logistics way later down the line when we get to that point. To reiterate some important dates, here's what the immediate future is kinda going to look like:

I'm happy to report that I've already got a head start on some of the digital rewards

Backer surveys will go out towards the end of July at the earliest, I may push it back a little bit depending but I want to give Kickstarter the full 14 days to collect payments with some buffer.

These surveys will be where you can choose variants for what products you purchased. So if you backed for a daki, you'll be able to choose your character at this point.

Digital rewards will begin filling in July as well. I hope to have the discord space ready for you within a week or two (the tcm server is chill to hang out in anyway but a backer dedicated space will give you instant updates and banter with me as I'm working plus you'll be able to talk about love letter contents and pinups and stuff like that without a lot of worry about spoilers or anything. I hope to see yall there soon!)

The wallpaper pack will be quick to follow this.

I would like to finish all the love letters before I begin releasing them, right now that's also looking to be a late July delivery, possibly early August delivery. I've gotten a couple done already and they're very fun to work on, I think yall will enjoy them a lot! >:3c

Pinups will be on a longer time scale. I have one of three artists confirmed (Atlas will be doing Mori's!) and we're going to go through their schedule to see what their timeframe looks like. Regardless, you can expect updates on that as I make progress.

As far as the physical merch, remember that fulfillment is slated to begin Q1 2024. The process to produce physical goods is long and I want to have plenty of time to carefully go over samples and get through packing and shipping.

Also slated for Q1 is the prologue release! The prologue will be one long introductory chapter featuring all three ROs and will segue into the route of your choosing.

And then, my goal is to update the game each subsequent month with a chapter update to one character's route, cycling through all of them in turn until we can wrap them up.

SO this is my plan for the latter half of 2023 now that the Kickstarter is over but I'm going to pull a Nintendo Direct because I have one final announcement to make.

The Pledgebox will continue to sell TCM merch, including digital stretch goal access, for the next few months while I prepare all of this stuff.

If there's something you missed, you'll be able to add it to pick it up through TCM's Preorder Page

Please be sure to contact me if you have any questions or need clarification regarding the Pledgebox page, you can find me on discord 99% of the time (i'm pockatuck) or message me here!

As always, transparency is a huge priority for me so please expect more updates as all of these tasks get underway!

in TOTAL gratitude,

cloud

#SORRY I'M LONG WINDED I'M A WRITER #i'm SO FUCKING TIRED #if i forgot anyone by name its because i have swiss cheese brain and like 2 braincells #the coffee did not help this morning #but know that i love you

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coolgreatwebsite · 5 months

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Happy 1 Million Views to the Video That Broke Me

This is a repost of something I wrote over on my Cohost, but I figured a year later it should also probably live on the domain I pay money to have. Better late than never!

This is the most successful piece of content I have ever created. At one million views it is the thing I've made that people have seen the most. It is the thing that the most people have seen my name attached to. And it's total trash.

It's 2017 and we're a week or so out from the release of Sonic Mania, a game that I'm, at that point, pretty damn excited for. A kindly poster from the Something Awful forums (that I have known from many forums previous) poses a challenge: be the first to beat his short kaizo Sonic the Hedgehog 2 ROM hack and he'll gift you a copy of Sonic Mania on Steam when it comes out.

I was already getting the game on PS4 but I figured whatever, everyone else seems to be having trouble with it, I'm bored, I got nothing better to do, I'll give it a shot. I load up KEGA Fusion, start a low bitrate and resolution OBS recording because it'll probably take a few hours and who cares it's a forum contest verification video, and get to work. A hour and half-ish goes by and I'm finished with the hack. I upload the video to YouTube, post it in the thread, win my free copy of Sonic Mania, and that's the end of the story. Thanks for reading.

youtube

Except of course it's not the end of the story. A few months after I got done thoroughly enjoying Sonic Mania, I realized that I'd been getting a weird amount of new subscriber emails from YouTube. I decided to actually look at my metrics and noticed a uh, highly localized spike of activity. Give you one guess on which video (hint: it's the one this post is about). "The Algorithm" had suddenly taken it and was running away with it at lightning speed.

In the timespan between posting the video and this spike, YouTube had announced they were drastically raising the bar on the metrics you needed to hit to have your channel monetized. I was by no means a large YouTuber at the time, but I was meeting the old requirements for monetization just fine. I wasn't anywhere near meeting the new requirements until now and this video was blowing the hell up for whatever reason, so I decided to do what any good opportunist would do and made it an unwatchable experience.

I set the ad frequency on that thing to the maximum that it'd let me. I forget exactly how frequent that was but it was something absurd like an ad every 5 minutes. Maybe even more than that. I figured I'd either get rich or maybe it would make people stop watching and leaving the worst comments in the world. Seriously the comments on this thing are their own nightmare, a bizarre soup of people ascribing meaning to nothing, trying to suss out emotions where there are none, saying complete gibberish, I'd need an entire second post to unpack whatever the hell is going on there.

Well, I wouldn't quite say I got rich. The money you get off what most people would conventionally call a popular YouTube video is just not much in the grand scheme of things. But holy shit they didn't stop watching. If anything they were watching more. Why didn't they stop watching? This video was less than nothing. It was an ordeal to watch all the way through. Why were they doing this? Why was the algorithm showing this to everyone? Why this and not one of the things I put effort into or something that was at least meant to be entertaining at all? I didn't have the answers and I still don't.

Before this I personally wasn't lamenting the possibility of losing monetization on my channel as up until this point I had made around $40 total on YouTube in the decade or so I'd had a channel. But I had been spending a lot that time watching friends with channels around the size of mine who were actively hustling to, and unfortunately failing to, meet the new hurdle. They were putting out some really good shit. Way better than my stuff, frankly. And here I was getting launched to the finish line by... a throwaway, blurry, hour and a half long, commentary-free, save state abusing playthrough of a crummy Sonic ROM hack? That I had made as a means to a completely separate end?? That got promoted by a computer program for seemingly no reason???

It felt shitty. One of the friends I mentioned in that last paragraph was my longtime friend Fotts who was in the middle of getting their (sadly now dormant) series TAS Force off the ground. They were constantly tweeting about the ordeal of trying to meet the new monetization requirements and it was a damn shame because they were putting in a ton of effort and it was great. The kind of thing I'd watch even if I wasn't friends with anyone on it. It was a million times funnier than anything I was doing, and the complete opposite of my shitty contest video. If there was any justice in this world the views I was getting on this dumpster fire would be going to them. But as it turns out, there is no justice online.

I recalled a conversation I had with them a few years back while they, I, and a group of about 7 or so other friends were all wandering around an Orlando Wal-Mart wearing identical black t-shirts that read "MARVEL CAN SUCK MY COCK" in big block letters (long story). They had actually kind of gone through this sort of thing before. See, they're the uploader and one of the voices of this video you may or may not have seen with 6.5+ million views on it.

youtube

They lamented to me many of the laments I was currently lamenting. "This was just a stupid throwaway thing", "why is this so much more popular than the stuff I put effort into", "it's just me making PaRappa the Rapper say the word 'Chinese' over and over". Ok maybe that last one was a bit more specific to them. Anyway, I responded with (and I admit a lot of the reason I felt this way was because I thought and still think the video is funny) something along the lines of "you can't pick what hits for people, it might have been throwaway but at the end of the day you posted it because you thought it was at least a little bit funny, try and focus on the fact that you have a popular video at all rather than the fact it's not one of the videos you're particularly proud of".

But yeah damn turns out that advice is easier said than done when it happens to you, and it's even harder done when it happens to a factually not entertaining video. One you could have uploaded as unlisted and achieved your intended result with. The runaway success of this thing genuinely broke me on this whole "Internet" deal.

I should stress I mean this in a good way. I realized that it's not so much that you can't pick what hits for people, it's that you physically cannot pick what gets put in front of people. The people cannot pick what hits for them. A computer does. You can try and promote and affect what gets seen in your own small sphere of influence, but ultimately we are, on YouTube and on all of our social platforms, at the mercy of a black box of computer programs that I'm not even sure the people who created them understand anymore. I'd obviously known this on some level prior to this video existing, but bearing witness to it all happening firsthand to this video in particular was another thing entirely. Anything prior that I had achieved marginally similar success with (there were a couple that had broken 100k) was meant to be entertaining. It was meant for people to watch and go "I liked that", not for one guy on a forum to see and go "good work solving my maze Superman". I could classify the success as "neat, people liked that one" in my brain. This defied classification.

The only logical conclusion was that it truly didn't matter what I uploaded. It's all decided by a random machine picking things at random to serve random amounts of people, and the people click on it and watch it simply because it is there. You can poke at the machine, prod at the machine, try to guess what the machine likes, try to iterate on something the machine has previously demonstrated that it likes. It's all an effort to get the machine to put it in front of the people who will click it because it is there. That's what all the bigger capital-C Content Creators do. From the high level stuff of "what kind of things do I upload" to the low level minutia of "how many curse words can I say in the first minute", making it Big On Line in any capacity is about trying to appease an unknowable mechanical entity and nothing else. It's either that or you're "old money" in a sense, established before this all became the case.

And again, the bigger names do this. Entire companies do this. If I were "smart" I would have pivoted my entire YouTube channel to nothing but hour and a half long commentary-free bullshit hard ROM hack playthroughs. Maybe another one would hit like this did. But for the life of me I could not and cannot think of anything more soul crushing.

I wouldn't say I had aspirations to be a Big Time YouTube Man, but at that time I would have maybe liked to be a Moderate Size YouTube Man. Or a moderate size Twitch man. Someone who had people watching but was still able to have fun with it and do his own thing. This newfound realization that it was truly a random lottery, even beyond the random lottery that most of human life is, that becoming any size bigger than Small Time was literally decided by an actual factual random number generator, freed me from the desire to do anything that I didn't want to do. If actively chasing success on these modern, algorithmically-driven platforms, actively going after "Kaizo Sonic 2 Full Run" numbers, meant putting aside the things I like and reinventing myself and the things I do down to the minute details in order to appease a literal ghost beyond anyone's understanding or control that changes what it's looking for on a whim, then I did not want to do that. I did not want to keep a timer for when I could talk normal, I did not want to announce my streams on Twitter with the link in a separate reply one day, in an embedded image the next, and in my display name the next. If there is absolutely one thing I do not want to do in my life, it's dance for a robot.

But the most freeing thing about realizing this is that it also meant if I just kept doing stuff I liked, maybe, someday, I could get lucky enough to where the unknowable internet robot would push that in front of a million or so people. In the grand scheme of things it's about an equal chance of that happening on something I like and am proud of versus something I made in a desperate cloying attempt to placate an algorithm.

Anyway damn this got long and rambly sorry about that lol. This was initially meant to just be a little toast to the 5 year-ish anniversary of me fully becoming an Internet nihilist. Remember folks, it's meaningless to chase success in an algorithm dominated landscape. In the words of a certain extremely Normal-type man, "real life isn't all just being true to yourself", but I reject the notion that the Internet is not or should not be, in spite of the legion of ghouls and freaks at the top of the chain actively trying to make that the case every day.

Be true to yourself. Do what you love, make what you love, post what you love, and maybe if you're lucky a computer somewhere will decide it's your turn, because that's the single deciding factor in all of this. In the mean time, you'll end up slowly and naturally surrounding yourself with cool people who get you, if only a little bit. At least that's what's happened for me so far. I've been pretty alright with it.

#article

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hunsa-jars · 5 months

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man

Heyy things are pretty busy and exhausting right now, but I promise I'm trying to be brave about it

Might pop up here tomorrow

Or the day after tomorrow- this week sometime, or I'll go bonkers

Gonna queue this because I really shouldn't be distracting myself more than I already do nhdfdh

Haghhhh I miss you all, I'll be back

(uhh life update under the cut? to the folks who are curious, kinda wanted to mention these at some point anyways)

OI HI TO THE PEOPLE WHO STAYED HOW'S IT GOING

Remember that I said that my phone might be still alive after all? Well.. yeah, no, that was a false alarm, it really did kick the bucket. Temporarily using my sister's old phone until I get a new one this Christmas

And because I'm the way I am, I refuse to change anything about it- like I can't stand the idea of getting used/attached to it when I know in a couple of weeks I'm gonna give it back, so..

So yeah, I don't want to go through the procedures of logging into everything, including Tumblr

I've been avoiding going here anyway, so technically it helps :''')

My attention span is so awful you guys, so mad at myself 24/7 for always looking for excuses to not do my studying routine

Speaking of studying, this is the last week of uni for this year!

BUT exam period is starting next week and I have like 3 exams before Christmas, so fun

Uhhhh remember the board game I mentioned making? Teacher loved it and wants to display it for the university's open day. Pretty glad, worked hard on that thing (even tho it could have been better)

Gonna show you guys once I get it back

Uhhhh did my best with my recorder, my hands were shaking, but the teacher could tell I was only messing up because I was nervous as balls, and not because I didn't know the songs, thank god

My grandma is doing well! Well.. better. We keep her company. My cousins come to visit us twice a week now, so no silent Saturdays or Sundays

FINALLY figured out how to use emulators, so between studying for the January exams and relative visits, I'm gonna finally play Animal Crossing and Earthbound properly (I think I've mentioned using online emulators before, but those distorted the music so much I just couldn't continue with it)

Also was anybody going to tell me that OFF is free?

And Yume Nikki?? On Steam?????? Hello??

Umm also! My little brother sat down with me last Saturday and made me watch Murder Drones (he's hyperfixating and wanted to pass it onto me, spoilers: IT WORKED)

Oh my goodness... that show................................. Plan for another flooding

What else, uh- we're on season 2 of AOT, it's insane, it makes me insane, I wish I could say more without going unhinged

I... i think that's all

To the people who've been tagging me the past few days I SEE YOU ALL, THANK YOU FOR THINKING OF ME, I'LL GET TO IT

Well

See you guys later this week, hopefully, please take care

#random squeak #i swear that i loved queue #<- new queue tag #yes i finally decided on one #this ended up being scheduled btw but still wanted keep the tag

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rk-ceres · 10 months

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Neglected PT.2

George Weasley x reader

George makes an effort to fix things between you two

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

It was now late in the day you havent moved Ron and George busied themselves making reservations setting up the bedroom and planning he glanced up to the clock and sighed out 2pm. “thanks for your help today Ron” George sighed out obviously still having an off day “anything for you George. Wish Y/n a happy birthday for me” he gave George a smile hurt hit him square in the gut he quickly shooed Ron out of the house finishing the rest of the house and made dinner, once the clock hit 5:30 he washed the rest of the dishes and rushed back to the guest room where you havent left all day he softly knocked on the door “Love?” He called out opening the Guest bedroom seeing you still in tears “ive got a surprise for you” he whispered “can we talk baby? Can we try and fix this? I was wrong” he sighed out walking into the room “im so sorry” he whispered “i dont want to talk to you. Im hurt, and I am so angry at you…but mostly hurt and I dont know how we can fix this you really hurt me last night and i need time” you said turning to the wall “I know Y/n, you don’t need to talk to me yet. just listen” he sighed out “i dont have an excuse. Im so sorry i forgot, but it stops today.” He walks around the bed to where you was laying crouching to meet your eyes “Everything it stops ive made arrangements and youve got me. We’ll work on us. Ive given us a week. things just got away from me. I want to make this right, and i want you to know that i took off the rest of the week and part of next, tomorrow at seven in the morning i drop you off at madame cordelia’s spa, youve got an all day session shes going to do your hair and make up im getting your nails and toes done, seaweed wrap and mud bath. Massages and steam rooms. your outfit is in the closet for the evening, we’ve got reservations at six for the new restaurant on fifth, the one youve been talking non stop about after that we’re going to see the new Keanu Reeves movie first showing. Thursday is going to be us going to the arcade, icecream shop in muggle london and a fairy boat ride, Friday is me taking you to the carnival. We’ll ride the ferris wheel and we’ll play all the games i’ll let you beat me in bumpercars too, Saturday we’ll be in Paris, i booked us a hotel there til Tuesday morning. We’ll explore France and it’ll be just me and you, ive got everything planned i packed your suitcase with everything youll need for our week baby. if i didnt muck this up too badly. Please come back to our room. Im really, really sorry Y/n/n. I know that ive been neglecting you and your needs and youve been taking care of me making my lunches waking me up with kisses keeping our house clean bringing me dinners and loving me when i havent been treating you the best.” “You havent” you cried harder “it feels like youve checked out and didnt want to tell me youre breaking up with me. You forgot my birthday. I know youre busy and I love that youre living your dream and that you take care of the both of us but im important too one night was all I wanted and you yelled at me. Seven months of me supporting you every way I know how to support you and I get yelled at” “I know love and im so sorry i didnt mean to forget” he whispered cupping your cheek

k “im not asking this to hurt you im not trying to start a fight but you got defensive and i need to know. I’m are you seeing somebody else?” Your voice broke his eye’s dropped “no. Love. Its just been work. Theres no one else for me. Its just you.” He cupped your face in his hands “trust me. Its just you baby” he cooed softer “today? All i wanted? Was you to notice me. I just wanted you to spend time with me just flirting and harmless fun. i wanted you to touch me. Its been seven months since we’ve had sex since youve touched me. am i not enough anymore? am i not pretty enough? did i let myself go after hogwarts? Am i not what you want or is it just you being busy because i cant do this anymore i cant keep feeling like im being replaced” you cried more “i can live with” you hiccuped “i can live with being a part time lover but its killing me George” you cried “you not being here? Its killing me” tears made its way down his face while letting your words sink in “im sorry, youre not a part time lover. I want you Y/n/n just you. Youre it for me” he wiped your tears away tears in his own “its just work i swear. ‘Ve hired an accountant and another person to run the shop while we have our week. Then i have to go back and train. But i’ll be home with you. Every day at five.” He pointed to the ground “every day at five i’ll be home and in your arms telling you how much i love and need you, I’ll have weekends off.. and Saturday will be our day. I promise you” he looked into your eyes filled with hope as he brushed the tears from your face “am i still the one? Are you still going to marry me one day?” You asked softly insecurity written all over your face George’s eyes softened as you leaned more into George’s touch he smiled at you “yes baby.. youre still my only one. im sorry for yelling at you. Im sorry for not making the time before it was too late, im sorry for being an idiot, im sorry for making you feel like you arent enough… is it okay for me to show you how i feel? Let me make it up to you?” He asked looking into your eyes “are you finally going to make love to me?” You asked tears still streaming down your face again “not in here. But yes. We can have sex tonight. Just not in our guest bedroom love. If we’re having sex. Its going to be in our shared bedroom” He said straightening out his back as you sat up “im sorry i yelled at you. I shouldnt have yelled back” you looked back “we can talk about that after” he said handing you a small package Ron picked up for him on his way here to set up “put this on love” he smiled softly as you sat up “give me ten minutes.. then come to the dining room.” He said still looking at you you nodded to him biting your lip you opened the package and gasped he had bought you the dress that you pointed out at already Boux’s it was a 1300 galleon dress that you dreamed of wearing it was a 1920’s style red dress with a slit that came up to mid thigh you smiled and put it on he had bought the matching make up palette and accessories for you

you slipped on the gloves and finished the red lipstick walking out into the dining room, he had transfigured a wall into a big movie screen smiling when he saw you “you look exquisite love” “not so bad yourself handsome” you ran your hands over his black suit “thank you..” You say softly “this isnt a fraction of what I have planned. I spent all night last night working on it, Happy Birthday my love… youre the best thing thats ever happened to me and im sorry that i dont show it enough. If you left i wouldnt know what to do or how to breathe without you” he smiled “i heard you.. talking to Hermione… I was outside the door. I came back to check on you, and i did talk to your brother. We went out and got coffee at that new Cafe. It didnt make things worse. Ive worked things out with Harry, and he was really kind, and threatening. But its all worked out and better. He actually helped with the reservations and called in a few favors for our Paris vacation. Gabby’s picking us up from the airport and to our hotel.” “He didnt seek you out did he?” You asked softly “no baby. I called him.” George said looking into your eyes “im so sorry baby, id notice… i noticed your face when i yelled at you.” He sighed out “thatll never happen again. Ever. I didnt like it. I didnt like any part of it it made me feel like shit, youre not my annoying clingy girlfriend Y/n/n. Youre my everything darling i love you even if ive done a crappy job at showing you. Please dont leave me… please i can change ive already changed some things i really do want to fix us, im serious about you and i want you too feel that i am too and i do want to spend time with you on your birthday. I made your favorite” he pulled out her chair and played the movie “im not leaving. Im sorry” you looked down “i thought that i was alone and needed to get it out” tears started to come your eyes “No baby this is my fault and my fault alone you dont apologize” he cupped her cheek “thank you… for making dinner” you said softly “its the least i can do, baby. Id like to talk more about what was said during our fight. But i want to be clear that im not mad at you, im not mad that we fought, my anger and outburst wasnt because of you, it was because i had a really tough day, and i took it out on you. It was wrong and i shouldnt have done that. Is that okay if we talk about this? Theres three major things i want to revisit if possible” He asked looking into your eyes as he dished out the food you gave him a slight nod “i.. i dont know where to start to be honest with you. So im just going to dive in with what you accused me of. It was definitely warranted and i dont blame you for thinking it. I didnt realize how little ive been home, and how it could look like ive been entertaining another woman” he cleared his throat “id never, ever, ever. Do that to you baby. Theres no one else other than you Y/n. Youre the only one i’ll ever want and need” “im sorry that i jumped to conclusions i…. I was insecure” you said softly his mouth pulled into a straight line

“no baby. Dont do that. Dont apologize. Your feelings were and are valid. I wasnt home. You didnt know where i was. I havent reassured you or anything like that, you accusing me like that you werent yelling. Your voice wasnt angry when you asked about it and i wasnt hearing you. You communicated right. You calmed yourself down calmly asked me a question and i got defensive and i could see where you’d think i was hiding something baby. Im not hiding anything from you. You told me what was an honest fear. It wasnt you being insecure i hadnt been home. Which brings me to my next point on this topic youre right. Ive not touched you… or said i loved you since the baby got here and it wasnt because i was punishing you. It was because i… i thought that i could handle this myself. Both branches of triple W and keeping up with the paperwork. The products. But as things progressed it…. It got out of hand if it were you i wouldve done worse than just asking a simple question you were communicating how you felt and your fears and i wasn’t listen ing how i should have been. I was fighting when i should have been comforting and open to talking about it” he sighed taking a bite of food “i believe you. I believe that you werent you last night and you arent seeing anyone else.” You said softly “i just want you to make a point to love me the right way i know things have been tough on you and im trying but” “but you’re neglected and im an arse” he joked you both smiled at each other. “next most important thing i want to discuss is i want to address what i said about money. its not just my money. My success. My empire baby its ours. I shouldnt have thrown that in your face that i make more. It was below the belt and im sorry.” He sighed “ive only ever wanted to share my life with you. Since that day my mum helped you and Harry into that platform i knew that you’d be my entire life. And everything that was and is mine would be yours too” he looked up into your eyes “ive only ever saw the money as ours George. All of this is ours.” You smiled at him taking his hand in yours he chuckled “i know you didnt mean it. Because i know you George Weasley.” “howd i get so lucky?” He asked “I also do. I remember, and see it all. Everything that you gave up for our relationship and us but most of all what you gave up for me..” He spoke again after a few moments of silence “everything that you’ve sacrificed for me since the war, the… the wall that almost took you and Fred…” tears sprung to his eyes as he talked he quickly wiped them away “im sorry. That you had to sacrifice it.” He said you looked up from your food “you sacrificed a lot for me too, you rescued me and Harry second year, you fell out of the car breaking my fall when Vernon pulled me out you bruised three ribs and a broken arm for me…. You stayed up all night studying with me you do just as much for me as i do for you dont apologize for that, you dont have to apologize anymore George; i forgive you, and we can work on us. I dont want to leave” you said softly “third most important thing i want to tell you is that im still the George that promised you a wedding and kids if you want them Y/n/n. I want to marry you, i want you to know that i do have something planned so its coming okay? You dont have to worry about where you stand with me. In my heart. Cause of one fight. Im here. Your George is still here. Even if he was being a prat. Ive planned your proposal and its coming okay baby? Its coming.” George finished his meal “anything else you want to talk about before we kiss and make up?” He asked “i…. I want to say that im sorry even if you dont want me too. I was wrong for yelling. I didnt like it. And I think that when we get to that point again we should take a break and come back to talk when we can rationalize better” you looked down “i think thats a great idea, we okay now?” He asked you softly “we’re okay” you breathed out “i want to have sex… is that still on the table tonight or are we waiting til we work this out more?” You asked softly

“baby. We’ve worked it all out. We talked through everything. Its better now isnt it?” He asked with brows furrowed in confusion you nodded your head “yes. We can have sex tonight. Im ready for that if you are” he offered a small smile the movie was done he stood up flicked his wand the dishes clean themselves pulling her waist closer to him he led you into the bedroom he stopped in front of the door letting you open it “go get in the tub” he whispered in your ear his fingers dragging down your zipper you turned the handle and pushed open the door your eyes widened the entire bedroom was covered in red roses teddy bears rose petals the room was lit by enchanted candles hanging from every corner of the room George brought his nose to the crook of your neck “the bath is ready for us” he said pushing the dress off your shoulders dropping it to the ground his fingers digging into your hips spinning you to face him noses close together and for the first time tonight. George kissed you sweetly bringing his hands up to unclip your bra your hands slowly undid his tie and worked on the buttons of his shirt and trousers you took your own knickers off “lets go take our bath” he whispered into your lips “please master i need you” you whispered

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Next part contains smut

#george weasleyxreader #george weasley #george weasley angst #george weasley x fem #george weasley smut

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ghostace · 1 year

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GShade in SWTOR

Surprise, the screenshots I've been posting this week have been getting carried by the power of GShade, not a sudden improvement in my editing skills. All of these have either no edits or only minor adjustments from in-game.

I decided to poke at it after @spindlewit got it working initially, since I have a stubborn streak and no fear of destroying my game files. It's not as simple as just installing and launching the game, and every time I tried I seemed to have to take different steps so don't be shocked if it doesn't work for you the first time, or if it breaks in the future.

At the moment I have only tested it with the Steam install. I don't intend to test it for the regular launcher, but the same steps may work. The reason why Steam is safer is that for whatever reason GShade deletes a key launch file on install, and Steam can recover that file if you don't back it up first. And best yet, it also worked on PTS so once SWTOR goes 64 bit this should still work!

Use entirely at your own risk. This may be considered a TOS violation.

Step 1: Download and install GShade locally.

Step 2: Install GShade with default settings to swtor.exe in your game installation folder. For me, and most Steam installs, the path is C:\Program Files (x86)\Steam\steamapps\common\Star Wars - The Old Republic\swtor\retailclient. Do not install to launcher.exe

Note that if GShade installs as DirectX 9 you may have to uninstall and reinstall GShade to SWTOR until it lets you install as OpenGL since the DX9 install doesn't seem to work.

Step 3: Open the GShade control panel and turn on Vulkan (x86) under the Installations tab. GShade will not work in SWTOR without this.

Step 4: "Verify integrity of game files" through Steam (right click on game in Steam -> properties -> local files). This will recover the missing launch file that GShade deletes.

Alternately, you can back up client_defaults.ini from the same retailclient folder location as swtor.exe and just put it somewhere safe before installing GShade to SWTOR.

Step 5: Go to your GShade installation folder (typically C:\Program Files\GShade\DXVK\x32) and copy d3d9.dll into the same retailclient folder as above. Do not use the version in the x64 folder unless you are installing to PTS or following this tutorial after SWTOR goes 64 bit.

Step 6: Launch SWTOR. It will probably prompt you for the EULA again, just go through that and hopefully the GShade banner will pop up and you're good to go.

If the GShade banner is still not showing up, I found in my installation I also had to delete opengl32.dll from the retailclient folder. Other people testing did not have to take this step so don't delete unless GShade is not working.

Some notes and tips:

You may have to scroll through the EULA every time you log in. Sorry, not sure why that happens or doesn't happen.

You will have to turn Anti Aliasing in SWTOR to medium or off. There are graphical artifacts if you have it on High or Very High. Many pre-made shaders include anti-aliasing and I don't find it that big of a loss.

I experienced slightly more lag during gameplay with GShade running even with all shaders turned off. I also experienced noticeably more lag in cutscenes, especially right when they start. YMMV but I would recommend not running GShade for anything where more lag would cause problems. I may have died to VM Eyeless with a shader running because I lagged right as I was trying to get out of the purple circle of death.

In trying to reduce lag, I updated my DirectX 9 files from Microsoft here. It seems to be helping but I'm still testing, so if you experience excessive lag maybe try that.

I would recommend if you want to use any DOF shaders in cutscenes to turn off SWTOR's Conversation Depth of Field so they're not competing.

DOF shaders in SWTOR are a little tricky. SWTOR seems to use very large "slices" of depth, so every tick can cause a large amount of the background to come into focus. I'd recommend using mouse-driven auto-focus when practical, especially in cutscenes where the focus is change depth very frequently.

If you want to use the regular DOF autofocus, I'd recommend changing the Autofocus Center so that it's actually sitting on the character model (default is 0.500 x 0.500, I find generally 0.500 x 0.700 works well), reducing the Autofocus sample radius, and reducing the Far blur curve. SWTOR's camera is a bit hard to work with so play with those settings as needed. Below is a sample of before and after with default and my own picks for DOF autofocus sampling. It does vary depending on what DOF shader each shader preset uses.

Please rec me your favourite shaders for each planet or location if you use this, I'm still just messing around with this myself.

#swtor #star wars: the old republic #gshade #go forth and make my screenshots look pedestrian

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tjoshieshusband · 2 years

Text

Clearwater Beach - Mat Barzal

you catch the eye of a handsome man in the Bahamas

warnings: smut, hookup/one night stand, brief mention of a drink getting spiked, unprotected sex

(this is based on a dream I had two nights ago and I’m now madly in love with this man)

It was a steaming hot day in the Bahamas. You were there with 2 other friends on a trip for a week and broke the bank spending for a fancy condo in a small complex right next to a Clearwater beach. It was virtually private, considering only the complex members could go to that section. There were only 7 condos, and even though it was a small beach, it felt bigger almost having it to yourself. However, all your friends had dates so you had 3 separate condos. You felt somewhat left out, but didn’t really mind much. You had always been a bit more independent anyway. Until that one evening.

All your friends were sitting with drinks and their lovers, and it was getting slightly intimate so you excused yourself to go to the bar and got a drink made while watching a baseball game up at the counter. You felt a tap on the side of your shoulder and looked to see a tall, muscular, and quite beautiful brunette smiling at you.

“you like baseball?” He asked. It was almost creepy, but he seemed so comforting and nice

“yea, I’m not the most religious viewer but if it’s on I’ll watch.”

“so, what’s a pretty girl like you doing drinking all alone?”

“oh, my friends are with their dates back on the beach. I didn’t want to invade anything so I figured I’d just go get a drink.”

“Im surprised you don’t have anyone with you. You’re very pretty. Please don’t take that as creepy.”

“I don’t, I swear, haha. I guess I’ve just never made an effort to get with someone after college. Even if it was a one night thing.”

“well I think we should introduce ourselves if we’re sharing all this. I’m Mat, i’m from New York.”

You introduced yourself to him and just like that you were talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Baseball, college, the city, just the little things. It almost felt like you’ve been friends before. The two of you just clicked so fast.

“So, it’s getting a bit cold in here and we’re both in bathing suits, do you wanna go back on the beach? Even though the sun is setting it should be a bit warmer out there.” Mat suggested

“Of course! That sounds great. I don’t want my friends to think I got murdered or roofied or whatever the hell happens in bars.”

“I can see why. We’ll walk back and you can check in with them.”

“Oh god I just realized how late it is. I’ll text them before we go.”

You did in fact have many missed calls and text messages from both of your friends, freaking out and asking where you’ve been. You told them you were at a bar and you met a guy who’s walking you back. Not that you feel like a friend to each other already, not that it was nearly obvious he found you attractive (and you thought he was pretty damn hot too). Just you met a guy, drank, and you’re walking back now. Of course they went crazy over your mention of Mat. ‘What does he look like?’, ‘is he cute?’, ‘so you’re on a date?’ flooded your messages. You just simply ignored them, you’ll let them see for themselves.

After you got to the beach, you and Mat settled on a towel, pretty much silent at this point. It wasn’t an awkward silence though, it was quite serene and comfortable. The sounds of waves filled your ears as the sun lowered over the horizon. The mood was creating thick tension. The scene just felt so romantic and sexy, your bodies were mere inches apart from each other, it was quiet, and both of you knew one found the other attractive and vice versa. He moved his hand next to yours and placed his index finger on the back of your hand. You only gave him a chance to rub it once before you properly let him hold your hand, still saying nothing to each other.

“I know you like me,” he finally spoke

“no shit,” you replied, now facing him and making intense eye contact

“could I kiss you?”

You didn’t even reply before throwing your arms around his shoulders and pressing your lips to his. The kiss felt so right, like your mouths were made solely for each other. Although it only lasted about 10 seconds, it felt so sensual and almost erotic. You didn’t think so much tension could build up within hours of meeting someone, but you could tell it was making both of you aroused even after pulling away. Mat went back for more and he pulled you on his lap this time. You were both making each other crazy. Everything was so steamy and passionate until one friend came over and cleared her throat to get your attention. You slowly pulled back from Mat, keeping your eyes locked on his.

“Oh my god. Getting acquainted I see?” They interrupted

“We were” you responded, slightly pissed off

“I thought you said you were with a friend?”

“I am” I replied to them again

“Last time I checked friends don’t make out with and grope eachother”

You didn’t even know what they were talking about until you realized Mat had a handful of ass and he awkwardly let go of his grasp after that comment was made.

“It’s getting late, maybe you should come back to the condo with us, we’re going to do shots” they prompted

“Sounds g-“

You were about to get up off of Mat’s lap when he pulls you back down

“NOPE- I- I think I’ll take her back in a minute, we’re watching the sun set.”

“Fine. Don’t fuck around here though.”

After they turned their back Mat muttered urgently

“Don’t get up”

“Why didn’t you let me?”

“Please just don’t get up until they’re out of viewing range”

“What the fuck-“

and then you felt his bulge straining against his swim trunks. You sat there, blinking heavily, trying to comprehend that you just made a guy you met less than 8 hours ago rock hard underneath you.

“Told you”

“I…I don’t even know anymore”

“We should start walking home. It’s dark” Mat’s voice was still monotone, but you figure he was extremely uncomfortable considering he has a boner and you are still on his lap.

“That’s fine.” You give him one last kiss on the cheek before getting up and shaking out your towel. Before you even thought to ask Mat held your hand as you began your walk back to the condos. As you approached the entrance, he asked if he could take you home with him, and you agreed by all means.

He brought you back to his condo, locking the door to the connecting room, making sure his buddy next door can’t get in. He pushed you down on his bed shortly after, placing sloppy kisses on your lips. Mat slowly moved his mouth to your neck and collarbones. He lifted you momentarily and reached around you to unhook you bikini top. You watched as he stared in awe while he dragged the straps down your arms, exposing your bare breasts. He gazed over your chest, before licking and sucking one of you nipples. You moaned loudly and he pulled back.

“I’m sorry…instinct…did I hurt you?”

“No…it- it felt good”

Mat latched back onto your breast, just sucking and slowly creating purple marks on you. He played with the hem of your bikini bottoms, implying he wanted them off. You nodded in approval and he enthusiastically yanked them off your hips and tossed them on the floor. He smirked before placing his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles ever so slowly. Mat moved his finger down and teased your wet opening

“Holy shit, you’re practically dripping. Did I make you this wet?” He said, almost cockily

You nodded as a reply. Mat dipped his curled finger inside of you, thrusting for a few seconds before deciding you were ready for a second—which slipped in easily. He explored your walls for a moment before finding the spot that made you shudder and moan. He repeatedly brushed over that spot, so gently yet hard at the same time. You reached out and grabbed for the drawstring on his trunks, trying to pull it from the knot it’s tied into.

“Oh look at you. Must want my cock so bad, huh? You’re gonna get my fucking cock, beautiful”

He dropped his trunks to the floor and kicked them to the side. Now it was your turn to enjoy the view. His cock was a nice size, nothing to complain about at all, and oddly pretty. You got snapped out of whatever trance Mat put you in as he rubbed his tip against your entrance, but everything quickly went out the window as he pushed into you completely.

“Are you alright?” He asked while rubbing your hips

“Mhm, just keep going”

Mat started to thrust into you, almost slipping out completely before slamming his hips back into you. You didn’t know his sexual experience level, but whatever he was doing felt pretty damn good. If this place wasn’t paradise before, it definitely is now. Mat quickened his pace as he smoothed his large hands up and down your body, tracing every dip and curve. Over the sound of your own whines you couldn’t help but notice Mat’s groans and curses, so hot on its own, but even better this way. You could tell he was getting closer to coming, his thrusts became needier and quicker. He was still hitting every right spot inside of you, and you could swear he got deeper with every snap of his hips. Suddenly, your orgasm hit you like a truck, leaving your legs violently shaking as Mat praised you in between grunts. Everything felt so good, too good, like a rubber band breaking after so much resistance. Mat felt his own orgasm approach and quickly pulled out of you, jacked his cock a couple times, and spilled his load on your stomach while whining and still rubbing himself through the sensation. After both of you came down from your climaxes Mat grabbed some tissues to clean you up as best as he could. He tried to be a gentleman and let you shower first, and since you accepted the offer he gave you one of his shirts and a pair of basketball shorts to sleep in. He didn’t feel comfortable sending you back to your condo at this hour, so he set himself up on the couch and let you have the bed. You persisted this offer however, wanting him to sleep with you and feeling wrong that you were kicking him out of his bed.

“Pleeasseee…just for tonight” you begged

“You’re lucky you’re cute” he gave in, slipping under the covers with you

“You wanna be my date for the week?” He asked out of nowhere

“Hell yes I do”

#nhl #nhl smut #nhl fic #new york islanders #mat barzal #mathew barzal #dvaw Barzal #hockey fic #mat barzal fic #non nhl au

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