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#this could use some editing but am i gonna do that? fuck no i just needed to get it down
theluckiestrose · 9 months
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Hey now that Futurama is relevant again im gonna share something i realized about it recently.
Zoidberg is an anomaly. An acclaimed doctor of alien physiology who can only afford to live in his workplace's dumpster. Farnsworth pays everyone well enough to survive, except Zoidberg. But Farnsworth isn't in charge of finances. Hermes is. Hermes who hates Zoidberg, belittles him and abuses him at every chance he gets.
Hermes is conspicuously wealthy. He seems humble at work, but his house is in an orbital suburb, which means his commute alone is prohibitively expensive, not to mention his mortgage. When we look at his neighbors we see... Judge Whitey. Judge Whitey, the character whose sole purpose is to be a caricature of snooty, rich, powerful white men.
A mid-level bureaucrat simply couldn't make enough to live directly above a rich and powerful judge like that. I don't know what LaBarbara does, but if she was willing to take a job at Planet Express, it probably doesn't earn her enough for THAT.
However. There is one person who makes enough for that. Or rather, should. Zoidberg. Hermes has been stealing Zoidberg's salary for decades, so long and so completely that Zoidberg thought that's just how doctors are treated on Earth. Its so obvious to me now that I've realized it but there's no way Farnsworth would let his best friend live in poverty like that if it was in his control. However, Farnsworth has been senile since long before Planet Express existed, so it's easy for Hermes to take everything Zoidberg should be making.
But thats just a theory. A FILM THEORY HAHAHAAHAAAA jk i just dont know how to end theory posts like this
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icarusxxrising · 9 months
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Horrible fact of the day: Chevron just released a new boat fuel that WILL give you cancer.
Not "might", not "could", WILL. It has a cancer ratio of 1.3:1, as in, in a group of 10 people, 10 would contract CANCER.
(Edit: apparently some articles are now saying 1.4:1, and some are saying a little under that. Either way, the consensus seems to be anywhere between a 95-100+% of contracting cancer, with some expectations of this fuel not even needing a full lifetime of exposure for you to get Cancer.)
The EPA's safety limit is 1:1,000,000 as in 1 in a million people get cancer.
The EPA approved it anyways. I am not joking. The EPA approved a boat fuel that has a near 100% chance of giving someone cancer. It has such a good chance of giving someone cancer that if you DIDN'T get cancer YOU WOULD BE AN OUTLIER.
Fuck the oil industries.
Edit: If you find this (rightfully) horrifying, have you considered industrial sabotage? /hj
This isn't something we can vote away. This isn't something the rich are gonna apologize and make a 10 minute apology video for this. They don't care if you starve or wither in hospitals or get blown up in their wars.
If you don't know where to get started:
If you already know what to do, then it's time to do it. Participate in mutual aid, raise awareness in real life as well as online, participate in or train in self defense and emergency medical training classes.
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Hold Me Down (Is This A New Start?) - Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: After a long, hard day of work you just want to go home and go to bed. But, when you get a persistent knock on your door from Rafe fucking Cameron. you know you’re gonna have a long night ahead. Letting him in, after two months of not seeing him, you fully anticipated a screaming match. But, you got something much different than you bargained for—much better too.
CW/TWs: brief angst, brief mentions of Rafe being on house arrest lol, feminine pronouns used, gorgeous/sweet girl/baby/darlin' as nicknames, toxic behavior, canon-adjacent Rafe, mean-ish Rafe, smut, piv sex, oral sex (male receiving), impact play, (not really) lowkey daddy kink, brat reader, dumbification, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, breath play, unprotected sex (be safe I am nawt your mom gn), allusions to a pain kink for sure, mushy gushy sweet ending, not highly edited or reviewed
Words: 8.1k+
Note: 18+ MDNI, really just fucking don’t. I wrote this one in first person because writing in second person irritates my very soul. Uhhhh so this kinda came out of left field and I did nawt plan on writing this but here we are! But such is life! Anyways…back to regularly scheduled programming.
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It had been a long day - too long. There was something exceedingly exhausting about living paycheck to paycheck that the average person didn’t understand. There was nothing quite as specific as the exhaustion that you encountered by overworking yourself day after day, week after week, month after month, all for nothing. Because that’s what this all amounted to. Nothing. Nothing extra at the end of the week to take home, nothing to do anything nice with. Just nothing. And nothing sucked the joy out of your day like knowing you’d have to get up the next day and do it all over again.
When I’d finally gotten home from a shift that didn’t end until almost the crack of fucking dawn - a good twelve hours after I was supposed to have gotten off shift - there was not a thing I wanted more than to sleep. Still, even as I sat on my fucking couch, my woes could not end. There was a loud, demanding knock on the door.
The first time I ignored it.
The second time I ignored it.
The third time, an annoyed voice accompanied the knock.
“Baby, open the fucking door,” came the snarl from the other side. I groaned and ran my hands down my face. I really didn’t want to deal with Rafe today. Not like that had ever deterred him before. “Baby, come on. Listen. Please. The cops are fucking trolling around outside. Baby, please open the door.”
I groaned and pulled myself to my feet, opening the apartment door. Standing there, looking at pitiful as ever was Rafe fucking Cameron. The bane of my existence. My more-or-less on-again-off-again boyfriend—though I’d sooner bash my head against the door than admit that. I glared at the ass who had done nothing but make my life harder since he’d entered it. Then, I stepped to the side and let him in. He stepped in and closed the door quickly, locking it behind him. He turned to me and pressed an absent-minded kiss to my forehead before going to sit down on the couch.
“You look like shit, darlin’,” he said. When he even had the decency to look up and notice I was there.
“Thanks,” I said dryly. I looked down at his leg. His ankle monitor looked fucked. “What the fuck did you do this time?”
“Just a little mod,” he said casually. “I needed to get out for a minute.”
“Why did you come here?” I demanded. “Did you stash more fucking coke in my house I swear to fucking God I will kill you. I am not catching a fucking charge for you, asshole.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I leave my coke with you knowing that you’d throw it out, baby? That’s just bad business. Besides, darlin’ the cops aren’t outside for me some loser is probably getting caught selling a few doors down again. And hey? It’s a crime to want to see you now, darlin’?” he asked, winking.
“No. But it is a crime to skip out on house arrest, Rafe,” I said blandly. “And I know damn well that you’re not here because you want to see me. I’m just convenient to you like fucking always.”
He rolled his eyes as if I were being the dramatic one. “What’s wrong now, gorgeous?” he drawled. “Always seems like there’s something these days, hmm?”
I clenched my jaw. “Fuck you, Rafe. Get the hell out,” I snapped.
Rafe frowned. Stood again and walked over to me. He placed his hands on my hips, refusing to leave. I, in turn, refused to look at him. “Look at me, darlin’,” he demanded. Reluctantly I did. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer. He brushed my hair back from my face and just kept looking at me. “Come on, sweet girl. Tell me…what’s wrong.” He smiled to himself when I still didn’t answer. “You know better than anyone I’m not going to leave until you tell me, baby…so come on…what’s wrong with my sweet girl?”
“Fuck you,” I repeated weakly, pulling out of his arms. I plopped down on my couch, curling into myself and closing my eyes. “Just fucking leave when you see the cops are gone. I can’t be bothered today.” The asshole had the audacity to laugh at my words. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe.”
Dramatically, Rafe sighed and knelt down on the ground in front of me. I felt him grab my knees and pull me to face him. I had no choice but to unfurl, otherwise, I would’ve fallen into him, which I had no interest in doing. So, I leaned back into the couch, trying to ignore the heat of his hand sinking into my cold legs through worn jeans. It was hard to ignore that. Hard to ignore any of him, really. And he knew that. That’s why he only waited through my stubborn silence for a few minutes.
“Come on, baby,” he hummed. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry I’m a dick, darlin’…you know I care.”
I laughed weakly, eyes still closed. “No. No, you don’t,” I said flatly.
He ignored my words and kept rubbing my legs. “It’s so fucking cold in here, baby,” he commented. “And your legs are freezing. Your heat not working?”
“No, it's working. It’s just too fucking expensive to heat this shitty goddamn apartment and I’m not forking over more money to the cunt landlord,” I said sharply, glaring at him. “Did you suddenly forget what life is like if—” I cut myself off, shaking my head.
He had the audacity to glare back if you could believe it. Then, he slapped my inner thigh. “I told you to call me if you needed help,” he hissed. He slapped my other thigh. “The fuck are you doing? What game are you playing at, baby?”
I pushed him away from me with my foot. “A game where I don’t need to rely on a man who is a fucking wannabe felon,” I snapped.
He rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Newsflash, baby, you do need me,” he said, sounding way too smug about it.
“Fuck you, Rafe. I need a bullet to the brain more than I need you,” I sneered.
“That’s cute.” He continued on like I didn’t even speak in the first place. “I could give you that, if you want. But that doesn’t change anything about it, darlin’. You need my money, you need my cock, you need my love. You’ve said it yourself that no one gives it to you as good as I do. And I know you haven’t been looking which means you’re still as invested in this as I am. So.” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “When I tell you if you need my fucking money to heat your stupid apartment because your ass is too stubborn to move in with me…then you fucking call me.”
“You are not my fucking father,” I snapped, pulling out of his tough.. “Like I said. Bullet to the fucking brain before this shit anymore. I’m sick of it.”
“I don’t know. You do call me daddy a lot,” he mocked. He smiled down at me, but there was hardly any warmth to it. “But, oh? You’re so sick of it, hmm? You want to be brainless?” He laughed. “Well, I can make you brainless without having to put a hole in your pretty little head.” He wound his hand tightly in my hair, pulling my face towards his while I sharply inhaled. “And you’ll remember exactly why you’re not done with me, gorgeous.”
I glared at him. “I haven’t seen you in two months. The last time I did see you, you called me a stupid, worthless cunt and told me that you never wanted to see me again. And you think you can just show up here and get me to listen to you?” I demanded. I felt my face heating with my frustration. “Just like that? You think you’re…you think you’re worth me listening to?” I laughed. “Like I said. Fuck you, Rafe. I deserve…I deserve so much better than this. Than you.”
There was a mocking pout on his face. He reached out and grabbed my face again, squeezing my chin. “You think you’re going to find someone better than me?” he asked incredulously. He let out a laugh. “And where do you think you’ll find someone like that?” I didn’t answer. I refused to give him the satisfaction. He chuckled, but then his face went serious. “I’m sorry that I haven’t seen you in months, darlin’. I’m sorry that I said I never wanted to see you again. I was pissed, sweet girl. I didn’t mean it.”
“Oh you never mean it,” I said, the sarcasm’s impact dampened by the tearful sound of my voice.
He moved his hand from my chin to cup my face. I hated myself for it, but I did lean into the touch. “Come on, sweet girl…don’t be like that, baby,” he said. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss to the side of my neck. “You know that I love you.” Another kiss, followed by a short nip. “I’ve been busy, darlin’. That’s all. I’m sorry. I should’ve called, sweet girl. I know that. I’m not mad.”
“You were mad,” I accused, glaring at him.
“I was mad, baby,” he said, deceptively calm. “I was…frustrated that you wouldn’t let me take care of you. I just want what’s best for you. But I’m not mad anymore.”
“Well maybe I’m mad at you,” I retorted, harshness still lessened by the teary voice and the way I leaned into him.
“That’s okay,” he practically cooed. He pressed another kiss to my neck then moved so we were face to face, just a breath between us. He smirked, eyes drifting down to my lips and then back up. “You can be mad at me as long as you want, sweet girl. Just as long as you tell me that you love me.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. “No,” I said stubbornly.
“Come on, sweet girl, please,” Rafe purred, stroking my neck with his hand lazily. “I love you, darlin’.”
“I love you,” I said, voice breaking. My eyes popped open and I felt the tears in them.
Rafe’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes did soften. He let out a hum and wiped a tear that slipped. “There’s my sweet girl,” he cooed. He leaned forward and pressed a long, languid kiss to my lips. “Let me make it up to you, baby.” Another long kiss—lazier this time. “Let me apologize for calling you names, baby.” Another kiss. “Remind you that you’re my special, sweet girl.”
I huffed. “Oh so you wanna fuck me and suddenly I’m not a stupid, worthless cunt then?” I spat, voice dripping insecurity.
Rafe rolled his eyes so hard I was shocked that his eyes didn’t stick in the back of his head. “You’re not a stupid, worthless cunt. You’re my sweet girl and you know it,” he drawled. “I was a little fucking high when I said that. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
I gave him a withering glare. “Oh and you’re not high now?” I asked even though I could already tell he wasn’t. He gave me a flat look and I deflated, leaning back, covering my face as I leaned against the arm of the couch. I sniffled. “Okay, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean it.”
He chuckled dryly and rubbed my leg gently. “It’d be fair if you did,” he drawled. He squeezed my leg. “And it’s fine that it’s not fair, sweet girl. I wasn’t fair. So.” He grabbed my legs and lowered them both to the floor. He gently pried my legs open leaning further into my space, hands dancing up both my thighs now. “How about I be real nice and make it up to you?”
“No,” I said stubbornly, glaring half-heartedly down at him. I felt his hand toy with the waist of my jeans, dancing just over the button. “I don’t want you to.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, unconvinced considering I’d begun to lean into his space more, opening my legs to give him more space to occupy, more space to get closer. “Oh?” he posed, tone almost mocking. “You don’t want to?”
“No,” I corrected, grabbing his hand, putting it back on my hair to silently prompt him to grab it just as he did before. “I don’t want you to be nice.” I glowered at him .”It’s been two months, Rafe. I need…”
He let out a low chuckle, eyes dark with quickly emerging lust. “Fuck, darlin’, tell me…what do you need?” he asked.
I blinked slowly, still looking right into his eyes, intoxicated by him already from such a short time together. “I need you to take care of me like you always do,” I said quietly.
Immediately, his hand wound tightly through my hair and he rose to his feet, forcing me to tilt my head up. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I looked up at him, my eyes wide and wanting. I bit my lip, eyes trailing slowly down his body, to his belt at my eye level, and then back up. He chuckled again, grinning down at me. He wound his hand a bit tighter in my hair making me let out a squeak as he dragged me just a bit closer to his body.
“You need me to take care of you?” he posed, tone just shy of mocking. “Need me to help turn off that gorgeous fucking brain of yours, baby?” He used his free hand to trail down my cheek, fingers briefly touching my neck and stopping there. “Need me to fuck you stupid, sweet girl?”
Taking a shaky breath, I reached out, hand loosely holding his belt buckle. “Yes,” I said breathlessly.
I reveled in the sudden, sharp sting in my cheek. “Try again,” he warned, voice raspy.
“Yes…please fuck me stupid, daddy,” I said, batting my eyes up at him. “I don’t wanna think anymore.”
“Fuck,” Rafe muttered, his voice raspier still, thick with lust. He chuckled and loosened his hand in my hair before dropping it. He took his shirt off and then knotted a hand back in my hair. “Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of my sweet girl.” He stroked my cheek gently with his free hand before moving it to his belt buckle and undoing it with ease. He then smirked down at me, inclining his head. “Well? Take me out, darlin’.” I glanced down at his open belt but he tutted, tilting my chin back up. “No, baby. Keep your eyes on me.” His request was one that was most easy for me to accommodate considering I felt like I’d die if I looked away from him.
My hands trembled as I reached forward, taking the belt off of him. I was ready to throw it to the side but Rafe held out a hand. Without even questioning it, I placed it in his hand. He then set it to the side and gestured with his head at me to continue. Which, I happily did. I heard him let out a quiet chuckle as I undid the button on his pants and brought down the zipper without breaking eye contact. I almost hastily pulled down the fabric until it sagged the rest of the way down. I raised my eyebrows at Rafe in a silent plea.
“What, baby?” he asked, amused, tightening his grip on my hair. I let out a weak whine and pouted. “What? You gotta tell me what you want, sweet girl. Use your words.”
“I wanna see your cock,” I responded, hooking my hand on the hem of the waistband of his boxers. I tilted my head to the side, jutting my bottom lip out further. “Please, daddy.”
He let out a dark chuckle. “Okay, baby,” he drawled. I hummed, pleased with myself, and looked down, prepared to take his boxers off. But, he tutted, turning my head up with his grip on my hair so I’d meet his eyes again. “Nuh, uh, darlin’. Keep those gorgeous eyes on me still. Don’t you dare even think about looking at my cock yet, baby. Just get it out.”
“But—” I began to complain before being silenced with another warning slap on the cheek making me whine and pull back slightly; not that Rafe let me get very far.
“No but, baby. You listen to me. Be a good girl,” Rafe warned, tone darkening. “You know I want what’s best for you, right, sweet girl?” I nodded through teary eyes, looking back up at him. He cursed under his breath at the sight, tightening and then loosening his hand in my hair once more. “Good girl, baby. Such a good fucking girl. Now, get my cock out. And don’t even look at it.”
I shivered at the order but complied. I reached and used two fingers to gently drag the fabric of the boxers down until they too gave way, falling down past his knees. Using every bit of restraint I had, I kept my eyes locked on his, refusing to look at his dick even as it hung directly in front of my face. Rafe hummed, his free hand moving from his side to wrap around himself, pumping lazily. I swallowed, biting my tongue as a reminder to keep my eyes up. A mocking laugh fell from Rafe’s mouth at the sight and I felt my stomach tighten.
“Oh there’s my good girl,” he cooed. “She can finally fucking listen, huh? So proud of you baby. Little slut that you are, I didn't think you’d be able to do it.” I let out a tiny whimper at his words, feeling a growing, heated pit of arousal low in my stomach. I shifted slightly, just barely able to keep my eyes from falling down. He chuckled again and pursed his lips. “How about you take your clothes off for me baby? Then I’ll let you look all you want at your favorite part of me.”
“All my clothes, daddy?” I checked. He nodded. I all but raced myself to do so. I whipped off the shirt I had on with ease and shimmied out of my jeans easily enough. Sitting there in my bra and panties, Rafe told me to stop and so I paused, looking up at him. “Yes, daddy?”
“Nothing, darlin’…just wanna look at you a minute,” he said, eyes dark with lust. “So fucking pretty, baby. God on fucking high, can’t imagine what I did to deserve such a blessing.”
“Stop,” I dismissed, blushing.
“Nah, baby. You’re a fucking twelve-course meal and I plan to have all of ‘em,” he dismissed, stepping closer and grabbing my chin. “And you aren’t gonna say some dumb shit like that again. We clear, baby?”
“Yes, daddy,” I murmured, feeling his thumb ghost up to trace my bottom lip. My breath hitched in my throat and he seemed to remember himself.
He pulled away and smirked down at me. “Bra and panties off. Let me see that pretty pussy, darlin’. Been missing it so much while I was gone,” he purred. I shivered at his words but peeled them off, shivering at the cold feeling of the air against my nipples and the cool fabric of the couch against my exposed core, quickly growing wet. “Fuck you’re so pretty. Look at you…all this…just for me.” He came closer again—even more this time—and his hand loosely went around my jaw, jerking my head up. “You are just for me, aren’t you baby?” I nodded immediately. He glared, his voice gruffer. “Words, darlin’. Or I might not be inclined to be too nice to you.”
“Yes, daddy,” I said breathlessly, wide-eyed. “All yours. Just for you.” I felt my heart beating rapidly in anticipation of seeing Rafe smile down at me. “Daddy?”
“Yes, baby?” he asked, hand still hooked around my jaw.
“Can I look please?” I asked sweetly, pouting up at him.
His lips quirked into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes looking at me, appraising. “I don’t know, baby. You think I should let you?” he asked.
“Please,” I said, pouting. “I just wan’ you. Want to see you. Wanna have you.”
“Awe with my sweet girl saying all that, well how could I say no?” he drawled, removing his hand from my neck to trail back and join the other in my hair. “Go ahead and look, darlin’. Take as long as you’d like.”
Ever so slowly, I broke my eye contact with Rafe, trailing my gaze down to his dick. Rafe’s confidence even as he stood bare as the day he was born was one of the things that had initially attracted me to him. But, looking at him now, lazily pumping his hand over his cock while he smirked down at me? I don’t think that I’d ever been quite so down bad for him. Which was…concerning, maybe? Pathetic, perhaps? But I didn’t care. At that moment, with his long, thick dick just hovering right in front of me, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him. Of how long I’d wanted him…of how long I’d waited.
“What? I don’t even gotta fuck you to turn that pretty brain off anymore?” he said, voice an alluring growl as he let out a dark sort of chuckle. “Got you so trained to take my dick you don’t even try to fight it, do you sweet girl?”
I shifted at his words, suddenly feeling my core flutter at his words, clenching regrettably—miserably—around nothing. His smirk increased tenfold at that and he stepped closer so that there was practically no space between us, not that there had been much before. Now, his cock stood proudly just next to my face. Again, ever so slowly I raised my eyes to meet his again. And the desperation must’ve been clear in my gaze if the smug, self-satisfied look in his were anything to go by.
“And this was supposed to be for you,” he hummed. “My dumb little baby won’t be able to think for herself and tell me what she wants when I get started, will she?” I let out a pathetic little whimper. “You just need something in that sweet little pussy and your perfect mouth, huh?” His eyes trailed down to my lips, briefly displaying the heated desire he was feeling before moving to meet mine again. “Tell me one thing, darlin’, okay? Think your cute lil’ brain can take that?”
“Yes, daddy,” I said, voice coming out breathy. I squirmed slightly, squeezing my thighs together to avoid doing something like grinding on the couch and making him stop this before it even started.
“I don’t have too much patience before I gotta get in that tight fucking cunt, gorgeous,” he drawled. “So…tell me. You want me to eat that pretty pussy? Or do you want to choke on my cock?” He grinned, sharp-edged and shark-like. “It’s up to you.” An aborted moan came out of me at his words. The answer for me, right now, at least, was obvious. I glanced down at his dick and then back up. “Nuh uh, darlin’. You tell me which one you want.”
“I want you to fuck my throat,” I whined, looking up at him wide-eyed.
Rafe chuckled, hands tightening in my hair. “I’ll give you a pass on not addressing me properly this once because you said something so sweet, darlin’. But don’t do it again,” he said, half-mocking, half-warning. I nodded eagerly. One hand released my hair. He pat my cheek and then held my jaw tightly between two fingers. “That’s my girl.” The possessiveness dripped off his tone. “Now be good for daddy and open that fucking mouth.”
My mouth fell open without much thought after that. He grinned as I left it open, tongue sticking out just the way he liked it. His thumb pressed down on my tongue, head tilting slightly to the side as he looked at me. I moaned at even that simple feeling, my body practically trembling with want for him. But, for a good few long moments, that’s all he did, slowly pressing his thumb more against my tongue. But, after a few moments, he drew it away, using his free hand to lazily pump his cock—still only half-hard—in his hand. I inhaled shakily, eyes looking at his heavy cock, knowing the weight and feel of it without even touching it.
“Mmm,” Rafe said, letting out a leisurely sigh as he jerked himself off in front of me. “You want my dick, sweet girl?” I nodded eagerly, tongue still shamelessly hanging out of my mouth. “You want me to make you choke on my fucking cock, baby?” Again, I nodded and he groaned. “You’re so fucking sexy, darlin’, fuck.” I watched with rapt attention as a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip of his dick. I heard Rafe chuckle not a moment later. “Holy shit are you drooling, baby? Fuck, you really want this dick, huh? Well, I don’t wanna leave you wanting.”
Rafe used the hand in my hair to bring my head closer and anchor it in place. His other hand still held his dick that he was bringing towards my awaiting mouth. The second I felt the tip of his dick touch my tongue I groaned in appreciation at finally having something, feeling myself growing wetter and wanting. Already, with him not even having touched me yet, I was a mess. Rafe knew it damn well too. He chuckled, slapping his dick against my tongue making me inhale sharply then let out a tiny little whimper.
“Should I stop teasing you baby?” he said, voice measured, even, and entirely unaffected—as if he were in a business meeting and not getting ready to ruin my throat. “Should I make sure you lose your voice tomorrow now?” I nodded as best I could while ensuring that his dick did not fall from my tongue which just made him let out another low groan. “Alright, then, baby. You asked for it. Time for you to put that fucking mouth to work.”
I barely had the time to inhale before I felt Rafe’s heavy member settling against my tongue. I let out a breathy moan, reflexively hollowing out my cheeks and bobbing my head to take him further into my mouth. I moved my hands to touch him and he slapped them away.
“No fucking hands,” he grunted, pulling my hair so I’d look up at him before pushing me down to the hilt of him, nose settling against his pelvis. He cursed and I felt his dick pulse in my mouth as he looked down at me, eyes dark and wanting. “So fucking pretty when I’m stretching your fucking mouth open, baby. Look at you. So fucking good.” My core fluttered again at his words, clenching and unclenching while I felt myself starting to dampen the couch slightly the wetter I got. “Gonna fuck your throat now, darlin’.”
With the minimal warning issued, he thrust heavily, pulling out of my mouth almost entirely before thrusting entirely back in. I forced myself to breathe through my nose, relaxing before something unfortunate could happen like my gag reflex being triggered. I moaned around him, using my tongue as little as I could find myself able to when he started to consistently, aggressively thrust himself to the back of my throat. I whimpered at the feeling, grinding absent-mindedly against the rough fabric of the couch, letting my tongue trace along the vein on the underside of his dick.
Rafe caught sight of my desperate rutting against the couch and he let out a dark, slightly breathless chuckle without interrupting the pace of his thrusting. “God, look at my desperate fucking baby. What, is daddy not taking care of you fast enough? Fuck,” he grunted. “You wanna grind like a desperate, needy, brainless little toy? I should make you fucking get off of my thigh without me touching you?” My choked whine of displeasure at the threat made him let out another mean sort of laugh. “Don’t worry, darlin’. That’s gonna be for later.” I let out another whine at the promise then. “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you get yourself off on my leg and then I’m gonna eat your pussy so good. Gonna make you cum for me at least five times before I stop. I’ll fucking tie you up if I gotta, gorgeous. Gonna make my sweet girl so overstimulated she’s not gonna think ‘bout anything but my fucking cock…my fucking mouth…my fucking hands.” Each word was punctuated by a pointed thrust down my throat. “As if you think about anything else, my dumb little fuckin’ baby, yeah?”
When he pulled out of my mouth entirely, releasing my hair, I reflexively gasped in a breath of air, eyes wide and watering. I looked up at him. But, Rafe was still non-plussed by how fucked out I already was. He wasn’t even pausing, barely breaking even a bead of sweat across his gorgeous, obscenely perfect body. No, instead, he knelt down in front of me, one hand making its way immediately to my pussy and finding my clit like two ends of a magnet attracting to each other. He let out a low tutting sound, shaking his head at me as I bucked my hips against his hand before I could stop myself.
“So fucking sloppy, pretty girl. Is this all for me?” he asked, his voice both teasing and harsh. “Barely even done anything to you, baby. You’re just that much of a needy little fuckin’ slut for me, huh?” I let out a high-pitched keening noise and he hummed, wrapping his hand around my throat to make me focus on him even as he slipped two thick digits inside of me. “You want me, baby?” His voice was husky, rasping and his alluring eyes were locked intently on me.
“Yes, daddy,” I whined, voice weak around the whining and moans that I couldn’t help but release as he finger fucked me into oblivion. Even with so little direct stimulation, I felt my legs starting to tremble and my stomach starting to tighten, coiling and ready to barrel quickly towards release. Rafe could tell too based on the way my pussy was practically trying to swallow his fingers whole. “Please.”
“Please what, sweet girl?” he cooed, pretending like he didn’t already know damn well what I wanted.
“Fuck me,” I begged.
“Oh but you sound so pretty when you’re whining, gorgeous,” he groaned. “And I need you to be nice and fuckin’ ready for me. So I need you to cum for me before I fuck you.” My stomach tightened further just on the edge of sweet, sweet release that I’d been missing the past two months while he was missing on fucking house arrest. “Okay, baby?”
“Okay,” I sobbed, hips trying to buck even as he used his massive hand to direct my hips to keep the rhythm he wanted, the other tightening around the outside of my throat, making my eyes roll.
“Good girl,” he huffed. He paused his speech a moment, his fingers moving even faster, making me choke out a sobbing moan, head falling back until he squeezed my throat again in warning, making me lift my head. He then issued a command. A single word. “Cum.”
And who was I to disobey?
The coil in my stomach exploded into a mirage of light behind my eyes as they rolled back. I felt a slightly shrill shriek erupt from my mouth more than I actually heard myself. And all that I could think of beyond the veil and haze of pleasure was the feeling of Rafe’s hands, his skin so close to me. He supported my body as I slumped against him, both of his hands moving to rest low on my hips.
“Good job, gorgeous. You look so fucking pretty falling apart for me,” he encouraged, his voice an appreciative, warm grumble of affection. His hands ghosted up and down my sides. “You ready for me to fuck you, pretty little thing?”
“Yes, daddy,” I said, letting out a long, shaky sigh. I reached out, hands trailing up the planes of his solid chest, leaning my head on him to listen to his steady, calm heartbeat. “Thank you, daddy.”
“Of course, baby,” he said. I could hear the smugness in his voice but I didn’t care. He leaned me back on the couch and moved to get up. I let out a whine of dissatisfaction and grabbed his hand tightly, pulling him back towards me. He looked amused as he raised a brow. “I have to go get a condom, sweet girl.”
“No,” I said stubbornly.
“No?” he asked.
“Have you been fucking bitches on house arrest?” I asked, bottom lip jutting out.
He reached out, pulling my lip down and looking at it in undisguised intrigue. “No,” he admitted.
“Well, then you haven’t worn a condom with me before. So fuck’s sake, Rafe just fuck me,” I demanded.
Rafe’s eyes had a hardened sort of glee to them. His hand moved before I registered it and my head turned as his palm made contact with my cheek. Again, my core clenched around nothing. This time, I bit back the moan that threatened to escape.
“Who?” he warned, sounding all too happy to remind me of my place.
“Fuck me, daddy,” I reiterated, still with an extreme attitude. “Fuck me, don’t pull out cum in me, I don’t care. Just fuck me, daddy.”
“Drop the attitude,” Rafe said, a final warning.
“No,” I spat, knowing exactly where it would get me. You know, right where I wanted.
Instead of slapping me again as I’d first expected, Rafe tilted my head up with just his pointer finger under my chin, his shark-like smile back again. “Do you want to be punished, baby?” he asked, sounding all too eager. I offered no answer. He used his free hand and slapped me, harder this time. I couldn’t bite back the moan this time, or the way that my hand tried to drift between my legs. He caught my wrist easily to stop me. “Answer me or I’m gonna stop. I’ll walk out the fucking door, darlin’.” My bottom lip quivered at the thought, chest heaving. “Do you want a punishment, baby?”
“Y-yes, daddy,” I admitted after another stubborn moment.
“Well why didn’t you say so, darlin’,” he cooed sarcastically.
In a flurry of movement, Rafe sat on the couch and had me over his knee. My bare, soaked cunt made contact with his hard knee and I choked on a moan at that feeling. I barely had time to register the change in position before he landed his first hit on my ass. I yelped at the feeling, reflexively trying to squirm away from the pain, even as I felt a jolt of pleasure at the feeling. Rafe held my hips in place easily with one hand, keeping me firmly on his lap, and used the other to lay a hard slap against my ass, making me yelp again.
“That feel fucking good baby?” he grunted, slapping me again. I didn’t answer, a sharp, hissing inhale coming from my mouth. Another slap. Another whimper. “You should be fucking thanking me for this, darlin’. Disciplining your unruly fucking ass. Making you my good girl.”
“Thank you, daddy. Thank you, thank you. Please,” I whimpered, reflexively trying to squirm once more when his hand made contact with my ass yet again.
“Please, what, sweet girl? Remind you that you’re fucking mine? Oh, I am gonna, darlin’. This is just part of it,” he ground out. I could feel his rock-hard cock pressed against my side and I was torn between wanting it stuffed in my mouth and my pussy. Both thoughts escaped from my mind entirely as he landed another slap against my ass.
“More,” I ground out through clenched teeth, barely able to resist the urge to grind against his thigh and knee with the desperation that I was feeling.
“Needy little slut, you are, huh?” he asked, amused. His hands stopped their cyclical pattern of slapping my ass to rub the abused flesh for a moment. I felt his hand move between my legs more, teasing my entrance with his fingers. Naturally, I opened my legs for him. He chuckled at that. “Can’t wait to be stuffed with me, can you? Already brain dead to everything but me, aren’t you, sweet girl? You’re just my little plaything right now, aren’t you?” I buried my face in the couch and let out a groan, feeling his hand circling my clit again, lazily, not creating enough friction to do anything.
“Daddy, please,” I whined.
“Don’t worry, pretty little thing. I know just what you need to cum again. I decided I need two from you before I fuck this sweet little fucking pussy,” he grunted. With sudden and almost startling accuracy, Rafe slapped me again. This time, his hand made contact not with my ass but with my pussy, the sharp slap making me gasp and jerk from the pain. I let out a half-aborted scream and rocked back into his palm, panting from surprise. He openly laughed. “You didn’t think I forgot how much you liked that, did you, darlin’? Remember that real fucking well? So I’m gonna take care of this pussy just the way I know you need it.” I let out a breathy moan mixed with a cry as he spanked my clit once more. Again and again and again he did it until I felt like I was dripping sweat on my whole body and my pussy was soaked with my juices—the couch too for that matter. “Fuck me, baby, your pussy is so pretty all puffy like this. She’s just crying for me. You want me so bad your poor fucking brain can’t handle it, can it?” I let out a pathetic little whimper, unable to muster much more. “I tell you what, darlin’. You cum from me slapping this pussy and I’ll fuck you til you pass out if that’s what you want. You wanna do that for me?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I gasped immediately, hardly even grasping the words just knowing that I wanted the pleasure that had been slowly building to finally reach its fucking crescendo.
“Good girl,” he said before unleashing a series of slaps to my pussy in a pattern that I couldn’t have anticipated if I were in his damn brain myself.
This time, as I tumbled over the edge of pleasure, I wailed, jerking against his hand. I collapsed against Rafe’s leg as the aftershock of the second orgasm washed over me. I gasped for air like I’d been drowning and I felt Rafe’s hand tracing up and down my back lazily. As I caught my breath, he placed a final sharp slap to my pussy making me let out a weak yelp of complaint. Without being too gentle, Rafe maneuvered me off of his lap and over the arm of the couch. He let out an appreciative groan and I lifted my head to look back at him. I was startled to see him lifting the belt. My eyes widened as I felt him wrap it around my wrists, quickly binding me.
“You’re not getting away from me, gorgeous. Not when I finally get to fuck my pussy again. You’re nice and ready for me,” he said, sounding almost absent-minded as he spoke to me. He grunted as he slid into me with a single thrust. When he bottomed out we both let out moans—his low and mine high and keening—and I felt my body shake. “Fuck. When you can feel your legs I’m gonna fuck you so hard in doggy you’re gonna not walk the day after. But right now I just gotta finish the job, baby. Gotta turn your fuckin’ brain off forever.”
With that, he started to purposefully piston his hips, holding my bound wrists behind my back for better leverage. I was nearly boneless, shrieking in pleasure as his hot, throbbing cock stretched me open and brushed against each and every nerve ending just right—at least that was how it felt. How he felt. His thrusts were deep and slow and pointed. I sobbed against the feeling, wanting to rut back into him to make him speed up. But, I couldn’t muster the strength. So I just let him fuck into me at his own pace and I felt myself starting to build towards another bout of pleasure—this bound to be even stronger than before if the stars already behind my eyes were anything to go by.
“Daddy, please,” I sobbed, not knowing if I wanted more or less stimulation, more or less pleasure, from him.
Regardless of what I wanted, Rafe didn’t say anything. He grunted out a noise of acknowledgment that I’d spoken then doubled down in his efforts to make me cum again. And when he wrapped his arm around my throat again, tightening quickly and entirely, it was over. This time, as he forced me to a third orgasm, I was actually sobbing, tears running down my face from the fucked up amount of pain and pleasure entwined in being so overstimulated in such a short period of time—especially after so long away from him.
“There’s my good fucking girl,” Rafe said, voice slightly hoarse as he slowed his thrusts to a stop.
He still hadn’t cum himself, his dick fully pulsing inside of me with how hard he was. I dreaded what that meant, even though I also fully anticipated what I knew would come. He gently undid the belt from around my wrists, releasing me, and then eased himself out of me. He flipped me around on the couch and I looked at him with big watery eyes.
“Please no more,” I said, tears slipping down my cheeks. “It’s too much, please.”
“Come on, darlin’,” he cooed, pressing kisses to my cheeks. “Come on, sweet girl. You can give me one more. Been missing my pussy so much. You know I need one more from her.” Another series of kisses, the last one a long and lingering, filthy one to my lips where his tongue entwined with mine and we both pulled back needing air. “Please, baby. One more for me.”
His hand moved down, gently tracing my clit, making me jolt. Already I was so sensitive, so overstimulated. But, the impossibly sweet and imploring look on his face? The hunger he had for me? It was impossible to deny.
“Okay, daddy,” I agreed, sniffling.
He leaned his forehead against mine, grinning. “That’s my girl,” he said softly.
He hitched my leg up over his hip, settling between my legs on the couch. He used his free hand to grip his cock, looking down at us. He gently slapped the head of his dick against my clit once, twice, a third time until I whined and he chuckled, reaching over to press a short kiss to my lips to shut me up. He ran himself up and down my slit over and over until I was shivering and he saw a tiny dribble of new arousal dripping from me. He let out a low moan of his own and then sank into me in one, hitching my leg up again so he could thrust as deep as humanly possible.
“There you are, gorgeous. There’s my beautiful fucking girl,” Rafe praised, pressing a kiss to each cheek, to my lips, and to my forehead as he steadily thrust into me. “So fucking perfect for me. So fucking good for me, baby.”
“You feel so good, daddy,” I said, eyes rolling back and then curling as he pressed down on the slight bulge in my stomach only present because of him. “Thank you, daddy.”
“Anything for you, baby. Fucking anything,” he grunted. He ground slower against me instead of thrusting for a few moments. “You don’t get to keep me from my pussy anymore, baby. I gotta fucking be with you.”
“Wanna be with you, daddy,” I babbled in agreement.
“Good fucking girl,” he huffed, pressing down on the bulge again making me whimper. I felt his dick pulsate again and I tightened around him habitually making his breath hitch. “You gonna cum for me one more time, baby? I’m so fucking close.”
“Yeah, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” I whined. “Please can I cum? Please, please, please?” I begged.
“Fu-fuck yeah,” Rafe stuttered. “Cum with me baby.”
And this time, as I fell across pleasure’s razor edge once more, Rafe fell with me. I felt as he came inside me, hot and deep. My eyes rolled at the feeling, almost addicted to the mere feeling of him being so close and intensely part of me at that moment. I held him without realizing it, nails digging into the skin of his back as I held him against me, ignoring the fact that I was trembling like a leaf.
“So proud of you, my sweet girl. So good for me, gorgeous. Love you so much. So good for me.” Those were the first things I was coherent of hearing again when the whooshing in my ears had faded. They were the sweet praise that Rafe was offering. He went to move—to pull out—but I held him to me still, almost wrapping myself around him like a koala to stop it.
“No,” I denied. “Don’t move yet.”
“Okay, baby,” he agreed. “I won’t pull out. Do you want me to hold you?” I nodded. He carefully moved us. I winced as he adjusted us so that I was sitting up and in his lap because it made him deeper for a moment still but as we settled that faded and I just melted into his chest. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You did so good.” He stroked my skin and hair for a moment. “I gotta get you cleaned up, sweet girl. Get you some water.”
“Not yet,” I denied again, eyes closed as I leaned against him, as much of my skin touching him as possible. “Take care of me in a minute.”
He chuckled. “Oh? You’re gonna let me take care of you?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I answered absent-mindedly. “Fine. You can take care of me, Rafe. I’ll stop being stubborn.” I needed his help. He’d been right about that when he showed up, I was adult enough to admit that. And I knew that he loved me. That he meant it from the best place.
“Really?” he asked, disbelieving. “You’re gonna move in with me? Let me take care of you? Just like that? All I had to do was fuck you like that?”
“Yeah. That’s all you had to do,” I agreed, far too exhausted to explain the complex detail of it in truth. I let out a breathless laugh though, a thought occurring to me when I felt a cool bite of metal and plastic on my leg. “Well, as long as you don’t get arrested for busting out of house arrest.” I cracked open my eyes to give him a smile.
“Shut up, I'll be fine,” he muttered. His hands held me closely, tightly, possessively to him. “You don’t get to take it back. I get to take care of you now. To make sure you’re safe. You’re gonna live with me, sweet girl.”
“Okay, Rafe,” I agreed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. He leaned into the touch and I smiled. “I will.” I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, laying my forehead against his.
“I love you, baby,” he murmured, so quiet I could barely hear it.
“I love you too,” I replied, just as quiet, just as simple.
He smiled at that, the sight making his eyes go warm and sweet. “Alright, then, gorgeous. Let’s get you cleaned up and get the fuck out of here,” he said. His smile morphed into a cheesy sort of grin—the kind I rarely got to see. “Let’s go home.”
For once, I couldn’t disagree. And I couldn’t help but echo the cheesy smile. “Okay, then, Romeo,” I teased. “Let’s go home.”
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worldlxvlys · 2 months
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complicated (part 1)
chris sturniolo x reader
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: making out, mentions of sex, suggestive, angst, cursing
a/n: this one is longggg so i broke it up into 3 parts. i already wrote parts 2 and 3 so they’ll be up soonnn :)
matt, chris, and i were all chilling together in their living room.
nick had gone to his room to start editing a little while ago.
matt and i were seated next to each other on the couch, chris sitting on the loveseat.
my relationship with the two of them was complicated.
matt was my best friend, he knew me like the back of his hand. with one look at me he could tell what i was feeling.
we spent so much time together, we were often with each other longer than we were apart .
we were so close that we blurred the lines between friends and something more every now and then. but it never went further than lingering touches and almost kisses.
i’m not sure why, but late nights staying up talking have often led to our lips being mere centimeters apart lately.
i chalked it up to sleep deprivation and getting caught up in the heat of the moment.
chris, however, was different. i wasn’t as close to him as i was matt, but the few times where it was just us hanging out, i always had fun.
there was this unspoken tension between chris and i. we never said anything about it, but we were both well aware it was there.
he made flirty comments toward me whenever matt wasn’t in the room, finding joy in my flustered state that resulted from it.
i never let anything happen though, out of respect for matt being my best friend.
it seemed like chris made it his mission to get me to break, constantly testing my self-control.
the three of us had just finished watching a movie, watching as the credits began to roll.
immediately, matt stood up, patting my knee as he did so.
“alright, i’m gonna get food. you guys coming?” he asked.
chris stood up as soon as matt asked the question.
“no, i’m good” i answered, not feeling like getting up.
chris glanced at me for a second before answering, “actually, i’m not really hungry”
matt narrowed his eyes in confusion before shrugging and beginning to leave.
“alright, i’ll be back in a little” he said before leaving.
chris walked over to me, replacing matt’s spot as he sat down next to me.
“wanna listen to some music?” he asked as he grabbed the tv remote.
“sure” i answered, watching as his long fingers worked the remote.
“why didn’t you go?” i asked, watching him from the corner of my eye.
i watched as he clicked shuffle on a playlist, before the room was filled with the melody of a song.
wet the bed - chris brown
“chris, you’re not fucking serious right now” i deadpanned as the suggestive lyrics played out.
“i didn’t pick the song” he held his hands up in defense. “i just picked a chris brown playlist, i know you like his music” he said.
i just wanna take your legs and wrap 'em round
girl, you cummin' right now
my head to your chest feelin’ your heartbeat, girl
“how do you know that?” i asked, confused.
“you’re always listening to his music, so i assumed you liked it. i mean, unless you just listen to music you hate for fun”
“i didn’t realize you were paying attention” i said.
“of course i am. you make it hard to focus on anything else”
i don't want to be a minute man
baby, you're just like a storm rainin' on me
girl, your soakin' wet
i turned my body towards his as he caught my attention.
“what do you mean? do you find me distracting?” i asked, leaning forward slightly.
“you know i do” he said as his eyes traveled down to my lips.
i’ma kiss you right (yeah, yeah)
i'm gon' lick all night (yeah, yeah)
girl, when i'm inside (yeah, yeah)
“why’d you stay?” i whispered as i stopped myself from pushing my lips to his. “you know damn well you wanted to go”
“i did, but i wanted to stay with you more” he said.
“why?” i asked as he rested his forehead against mine. he placed his hand on my thigh, lightly gripping the side of it.
“because i want you” he breathed out, hooking my leg over his waist to straddle him.
yeah, girl, you heard what I said
i'm gonna make you wet the bed
i looked down at him, steadying myself by grabbing his shoulders.
“we really shouldn’t chris” i spoke as my lips brushed against hit.
“definitely not” he spoke against my lips, his eyes closed.
“it’s wrong” i whispered.
“but one kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?” he asked, his hands running up and down my waist.
“chris” i sighed.
“please, i need it so bad” his hands now traveled down to my ass.
“just one-” his lips were on mine the second i spoke the words.
i'ma put your legs behind your head
when I make you wet the bed
my hands found their way to his hair as his lips moved greedily against mine.
one of his hands found my jaw, holding it steady as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head.
after a while, we pulled away for air. “one more” he spoke before attaching his lips back to mine, barely giving me time to breathe.
one more turned into two more, two turned into three, and before i knew it i was lost in the way his lips pressed against mine.
his hands traveled to my ass, squeezing it, eliciting a moan from me.
when i let out a gasp in surprise, he slid his tongue past my lips.
“what the fuck ?” came a voice from behind us.
i pulled my lips away from chris, moving off of his lap.
“matt-” i began before he cut me off. “what? what excuse could you possibly give me right now?” he asked.
“look, i’m sorry that i hurt you, but i’m an adult. i don’t really need to give an excuse for anything i do” i spoke defensively.
“whatever” he scoffed as he shook his head, “ i brought you food for later, i knew you’d probably get hungry anyway. but i guess i’m the only one here who thinks about other people” he spoke in a low voice before walking away.
my face dropped at that, starting to feel bad about not considering his feelings at all.
“hey, if you wanna blame someone, blame me. i’m the one who kept pushing you, so please don’t blame yourself” chris spoke, practically seeing the gears turning in my head.
“yeah” i whispered in response, still feeling incredibly guilty.
“hold on, i’ll be back. i’m gonna go talk to him” he spoke, squeezing my hand before going off to matt’s room.
after sitting there in anticipation for a few minutes, i began to get nervous. not knowing what was going on was killing me.
my body moved quicker than my brain as i got up and made my way towards matt’s room. i pressed my ear to the door, listening to what they were saying.
“you know how i feel about her” matt’s muffled voice traveled through the door.
“you barely even hang out with her, you just want her because you know you shouldn’t” matt continued.
“you like the thrill of having to sneak around, and chasing after someone you can’t have. you never once showed any interest in her before i did, now suddenly you just have to have her?” matt asked.
“it’s not like that, matt. i don’t hang out with her often because whenever i do, you accuse me of stealing her away from you” chris started, but was cut off by matt.
“that’s not true, and you know it. you can’t just warp the truth to support the sorry excuses you come up with. just admit it, you don’t actually want her” matt said.
“that’s the thing, matt, i do want her. i just didn’t wanna make it obvious, since you obviously can’t handle that”
“what i can’t handle is the way you think you’re entitled to do whatever the hell you want. did you ever stop to think about what this would do to my friendship with her? or my relationship with you? do you ever think about anything other than yourself?” matt asked.
it didn’t seem like their conversation was going anywhere. the second they started to get somewhere, someone would throw an insult at the other.
deciding to intervene, i knocked on the door loudly. the arguing stopped immediately and the door opened a few seconds later.
i was met with an angry matt, but his face softened as soon as he saw me.
knowing i wanted to be let in, he moved to the side to let me pass. he closed the door behind me, watching as i went to sit on his bed.
“look, i’m sorry guys. i shouldn’t have kissed chris, it was a mistake. the last thing i ever want to do is break the bond that you guys have. let’s just forget this ever happened” i said to them.
“no” chris started, taking me by surprise. “i want you to pick”
“what?” i asked, my face dropping at this.
“chose who you want to be with. it doesn’t make sense for us to fight over you, it’s your decision. whoever you decide to stay friends with won’t take it personal, right matt?” chris asked.
“yeah, we’re not gonna force you into anything you don’t want. if the feelings aren’t there, then they aren’t there” matt agreed.
two minutes ago they were arguing uncontrollably and now they were able to come to an agreement in seconds? this was weird.
“so, who do you want?” chris asked.
who do i want? i had no clue.
i loved spending time with chris, but what if matt was right? what if i only enjoyed the thrill of having someone i can’t have ? was that worth jeopardizing my friendship with either of them over?
and matt? i had such a deep connection with him, i didn’t want to lose him. if i fucked up our friendship, i’d never forgive myself for it. the last thing i ever wanted to do was hurt him, yet that was exactly what i was doing in the moment.
“i don’t know, i don’t even think i can pick” i spoke honestly.
“then why not give us both a shot?” chris asked.
“wait, what ?” i asked, confused.
“well, you wanna see if this is more than just tension, right ? and you wanna know if you have feelings for matt?” he asked.
“i mean, yeah” i answered.
“well, there’s a way to answer both of those questions” he spoke as he pointed to the bed.
my eyes widened at the implication , “sex?”
“if it’ll help you decide who you want, then why not?” chris asked.
“that’s not really the first approach i would’ve taken, but he’s not wrong” matt hesitantly agreed.
“obviously sex isn’t the only factor that goes into a relationship, but you already know all of the other factors. you know how we treat you outside of the bed, so maybe the key to your decision is what happens in it” matt spoke.
“i mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine but-” chris started. “i’m in” i cut him off.
“so, who’s first?” i asked playfully.
“me” chris spoke eagerly, “i mean, we should finish what we started earlier, right?” he tried to cover up his excitement.
“alright, get out of my room” matt started, ushering us out. “and please don’t be loud, i don’t wanna hear that shit”
🌀🌀🌀🌀
next part
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07
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squoxle · 3 months
Note
On the kitchen counter, in the school storage unit, I don’t care
I think I like it in the kitchen😏...
🖤 𝐹𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝑀𝑒 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒜 𝒮𝓁𝓊𝓉 ~ 𝒮𝓊𝓃𝑔𝒽𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒻𝒻 𝟣𝟪+
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📷pairing: Sunghoon!procrastinator!bf x Reader!afab | 📷wc:1.4k | 📷summary: Your boyfriend, Sunghoon, procrastinated with completing a video assignment for school, but when you came over to help him you ended up making a different type of video |📷cw: unprotected sex, pussy eating, voyeurism/exhibitionism, spitting, dirty talk, pet names [slut, princess, whore, etc.], masturbation, choking, oral m. and fm. receiving (basically, porn with a plot)
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“I can’t believe you waited until the last fucking minute to do this,” you sighed as you walked through the door, greeting your procrastinator of a boyfriend. "This video assignment is due tomorrow and you haven't even started."
“I didn’t feel like doing it though,” Sunghoon said, running his fingers through his hair as he trailed behind you.
“So you just waited for me?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Uhhh yeah,” you replied as you slid your puffy coat off of your shoulders.
“You didn’t have a problem when I waited for you the other day,” he smirked as you thought back to the events that transpired a few days ago.
“That was different,” you spat, trying your best to hold back the smile.
“Was it? Because I do remember you saying something along the lines of ‘wait! I’m not ready to c—“ you cut him off with a playful push to his arm.
“Just go get the damn camera,” you said as you swiveled yourself into one of the metal barstools. Even though you were wearing jeans, you could still feel the cold steel against your thighs.
Sunghoon chuckled to himself before walking off to grab the camera from his room. You distracted yourself with random thoughts while you waited for your boyfriend to return.
You gasped as you felt Sunghoon’s lips against your cheek. He gently pecked your face as he reached a hand down to grip your thigh.
“Smile princess,” he said, using his free hand to hold the camera at an angle that caught the actions going on between the two of you.
You rolled your eyes as he placed the camera on the counter.
“Hoon, we need to focus,” you giggled as he spun you around to face him.
“I am focusing.”
“On your project.”
“Hmm, fine,” he pouted before leaning in to kiss your lips.
After a few failed attempts at the video’s introduction, Sunghoon was just about ready to give up.
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“Hoon, come on. This is due tomorrow. We need to get some footage or else we’ll have nothing to edit. Therefore, nothing to present. No video, equal nothing to turn in and that’s gonna be a zero,” you sighed in an attempt to encourage your boyfriend to at least make something.
“I don’t even fucking care anymore. So what if I get a zero. One zero won’t fuck my grades up that much,” he shrugged.
“That’s not the point,” you said as he plopped down in a chair. “How about I do it with you? Would that make it easier?”
“Hmm…maybe,” he sighed, tilting his head back. “But I really just don’t want to do it. I’d rather be doing something else,” he smirked.
“Sunghoon. Focus,” you spat. “Now come on, get over here before I change my mind,” you adjusted the tripod and lenses to get a shot of you and Sunghoon in frame.
“Fine~” he hummed, jerking his body out of the seat before walking over to you. “Is it recording?”
“What do you think?” You asked sarcastically.
“What do you think,” he mocked you as he noticed the red light. "Can you start it? Just for the practice run," you slightly rolled your eyes at his request. "Please. And I promise I'll do it next," he pouted.
Looking at that face, only one thing crossed your mind, if he wasn't your boyfriend you would walked away by now. Ditching his lazy ass to figure it out on his own.
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"Ugh, fine," you groaned as smiled so hard you thought he was gonna break his jaw. "Hi, I'm--" you were cut off by Sunghoon grabbing your hips as he pressed himself into you. "Sunghoon--"
"Shh. I'm trying to focus," he said as he persisted to gently push into from behind.
"Sunghoon--"
"Please, Princess. I promise I'll do it after we finish."
"But--"
"I can't think straight if my dick is aching to fuck the shit out of you," he said as you now came aware of his growing hard that he rubbed against you.
You couldn't deny the fact that sometimes you could be equally as conceited as him. Just the idea of him being so turned on because of you was enough to get you going.
"Okay, but we gotta be quick alright," you said as you looked over your shoulder to meet his eyes.
He reached his hands around you, sliding your pants to your ankles as he kneeled down to glide his tongue between your folds. The wetness increasing from a mixture of his saliva and your own juices as you moaned from his satisfying touch.
You looked down to see him palming himself through his sweats as he let out soft moans while tongue fucking you. You couldn't help but swirl your ass around as he pulled out his dick, stroking it with one hand while he continued to eat you out. "Fuck, princess. You taste so fucking good."
He pushed you back onto the countertop, sliding you across the cold surface as he spread your legs to expose your sloppy wet pussy. Every part of your body belonged to him and he made sure to remind you anytime you fucked. "Mmm, look at my pretty little fuck hole," he grinned as he pressed his thumb into your clit, slightly massaging it before pushing his tip against your opening.
He teased you with it, gliding it back and forth without going in. You were at the point where you were ready to push it in yourself, but you knew how much he loved to torture you with pleasure. "I know you want me slut. I know you want my dick deep inside of you," he said as he gripped your thighs tighter. "Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you."
You broke, craving his dick more than anything, "I want you to fuck me so bad," hearing these words placed a little grin on his face as he spat on your pussy before pushing every inch into your throbbing cunt. You let out a high-pitched squeal as you felt him enter you. "Ah," you moaned.
"Ngh, fuck. I wanna see that pretty face while I fuck you," he said as he grabbed the camera pointing it to your face as your eyebrows furrowed. "Mmm, fuck you look so sexy. My sexy fucking cum slut," he said as he started fucking you faster.
"Tell me how much of a whore you are for me," he huffed moving the camera down to get a shot of his dick pumping in and out of your slimy pussy. "Ugh! I'm such a dirty slut. Your dick feels so fucking good inside of me," you hiccuped as you felt his dick pumping deeper into you.
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"Mmm, fuck yes. You're my slutty little princess," he said as he bit into your neck. He caught a shot of your face as he sucked on your neck. "God, I love those delicious sounds you make," overwhelmed with pleasure he placed the camera down as he pushed you down onto the countertop, gripping his hands around your throat as he kept fucking you.
He pulled your legs over his shoulders, as he picked up the speed. He was almost whining at this point as he fucked you mercilessly. "Ugh! Ngh! You feel so fucking good, princess," he moaned as he slammed against your juicy pussy. You were moaning uncontrollably at this point, heaving your chest as he tore your legs open more, pressing your thighs into the surface as the two of you came at the same time.
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You felt his cum spill inside of you as you caught your breath. You must've blacked out because you didn't remember anything else when you woke up naked next to Sunghoon who was jerking off to the video you unintentionally made last night.
"Sunghoon," you groaned as the sounds of him stroking himself were muffled by the cover. "You're just so sexy, I couldn't help myself," he said as he continued pleasing himself. "Did you at least finish the project?" you asked as you reached your hand down to hold his hand as it moved up and down his length.
"Of course I did. And I submitted it. See, I told you I was gonna do it," he said as he pulled the cover back exposing his cock as he held out his hand for you to spit on it before using your wetness to stimulate his dick some more. "Hmm, well I'm glad I could help," you said, lowering down to suck on his pink tip before he pushed your head down, throat fucking you as he let the video play beside him.
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❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
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❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @nikisdubblchococake @hynjinnn1 @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa
SPECIAL TAGS:@yourbobaeyestell @shuichi-sama @hoonharem @hoonsbbygirl @hoonieskates @hee-yunie @yunaas-world @no-jams-no-mans @ilvho06 @luvsikgorl @sussyjake @jeysamores @marshimmellow
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kozachenko · 2 months
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[Click image for better quality]
I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING MAKE THE IMAGE SMALLER FOR POSTING ON TUMBLR WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ACTUAL QUALITY OF THE IMAGE OH MY GOD
Ok so, what I did is go into the clip studio paint file, make a new file, copy and paste the group in the original file, merge everything, get rid of the extra stuff outside of the canvas, and then make the flattened image smaller and crop the canvas. Once you have that, export it and you're done. This helps maintain the actual quality of the image and also helps shrink the file size down to something actually postable (if anyone has a better way of doing this please tell me)
[Edit]: Ok I guess posting something to Tumblr just naturally compresses the image a bit more somehow because I'm looking at it now and zooming in too much makes it a bit blurry so I'm still gonna have to futz around with image quality for future pieces oof
Artist's Note:
I'm so glad I figured out a way to do this because I like working on a big canvas so I can get as much detail in as I possibly can. Only problems are how laggy it gets while drawing lol.
I had an idea for a drawing with Reimu and Zanmu because I really like thinking about their potential dynamic a lot. I also wanted an excuse to draw Zanmu again but in my normal rendering style because last time I drew her she was in my more sketchy style with generally flat colours so I wanted to draw her again. Speaking of, looking at the sketch for this is a jumpscare that I never enjoy seeing, like, man am I glad I didn't use those for my final piece.
Also about her spear. I was originally gonna make it like the ones she had in game, but it kinda threw off the whole piece. It was too big, too blue, and too flat, so I just went "fuck it" and gave her a different one instead. My headcanon justifying this is that the ones she uses in game are for danmaku battles whereas in any other fight she just uses a proper yari, or she still uses the yari and just makes it all glowy to power it up, maybe both lol. I pulled as much inspiration as I could from Sengoku era spears, and even put in some blue into the decorative part of the spear and also added a little skull to pay tribute to the original spear. Also, in my research I saw some art of izanami and izanagi making japan and saw that the yari izanagi has had a little decorative tassley thingy on it so I took some inspo from that and just made it one of Zanmu's tassles (Idk when that art was from or if the spear was still accurate to Sengoku period Japan but hey, probably the same reasons Eirin puts little bow ties on her arrows, it's just for personalization purposes).
I love rendering hair and clothes so much omg, while I like the super curly hair Zanmu, the longer, wavier hair suits her better for this drawing (I imagine it only does that like how Ghibli characters hair moves when they feel angry lol). I love making Zanmu's hair all messy and crazy, as well as giving her grey hairs, this woman has aged like a fine wine. Also, if the hem on the ends of her sleeves, top of her shirt, and her pants look like gold to you, that's because it is! It's fairly light so she's not collapsing under the weight, but it's gold! (I don't care how impractical it is, it's just cool). Not the undershirt though, it's made of a gold fabric. I had a cute idea with Reimu's hair to make it have a red shine to it. I also changed up Reimu's outfit so it isn't just a blob of red. I like it a lot when Reimu's skirt and outfit is segmented into different layers, so I wanted to incorporate that.
I tried to draw their hands differently as well, but IDK how noticeable that is. Also, I am super happy with how the side profiles for the two of them turned out, I used to struggle a lot with how to make the side profile of a character actually look like the character, so I'm really happy that they actually look like themselves.
Also added in the tree and rocks in the background as an homage to Zanmu's character art in Touhou 19, just because I was getting kinda stumped on what to do with the background lol.
In terms of a story idea with Reimu and Zanmu, idk why but the potential plotline of Zanmu wanting to ascend to godhood is so fascinating to me. Like, it is very possible that if she just convinced everyone she was a god (which would be very easy for her to do), she would become one in a heartbeat. Also, if she were to become a god, with her ability to return stuff to nothing, could she hypothetically get similar abilities to (Jojo Part 5 spoiler btw) GER? Like, idk about the death timeloop stuff, but the concept has been haunting me every night as I have been trying to find loopholes in GER's ability for a while now ( for no reason in particular). Back to the main topic, I imagine that she would probably tell Reimu that if she were to become a god she would take over the Hakurei shrine since the god there might as well be dead, and Reimu just says to her, "Over my dead body bitch." Like, I have no idea how to summarize their dynamic but like, it's the type of hero-villain dynamic where the phrase "We're not so different, you and I" would definitely be a phrase said during a fight. I think that if another IN style game were to release, Reimu and Zanmu would be in a team together. They could also have an interesting mentor and pupil kind of dynamic. Can you tell that Zanmu has been charging my mind rent these part few months? Like, instead of living in my head rent free, she kinda just uno reversed the whole situation and now she's the one charging me rent. What happens if I get evicted from my own brain? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I wanna know.
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she-likesorchids · 8 months
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CADENCE: Part One
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Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Audio Erotica Reader
Summary: Matt can't wait to get home to listen to your latest audio. He's a loyal subscriber, and you get him worked up like no one else does.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY. Mutual masturbation (sort of), pillow humping, dirty talk, some light sacrilege. You know, THE GOOD GOOD. Reminder that you are responsible for what you see once you click "Read More".
Author's Note: I would like to thank the Academy (@bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms and @souliebird) for enabling this. Edited, but not beta read, we die like Ray Nadeem (RIP). ENJOY!
Divider by @saradika
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Matt was sitting at his desk going over a deposition when his phone buzzed with a new notification. He had been waiting for word on something specific, so he switched his headphones from his laptop to his phone to see what it was. As soon as he heard the source of the notification, he slammed his laptop shut and started packing up his things to leave. Foggy heard the commotion from his office and came to check on Matt to make sure everything was okay. 
“Hey, buddy. You okay?” 
“Yeah, Fog. Just feeling a headache coming on. The seasons are changing and you know how that messes with me,” Matt replied as he stuffed his laptop in his bag. 
“You want me to walk with you?”
“No, it’s okay, Fog. I can make it just fine.” 
“Alright, buddy. But text me when you get home. You know I worry about you and your headaches,” Foggy called out as Matt walked out the door. 
“I know, Foggy. But I’ll be okay. See you tomorrow, buddy!” 
—--------------------------------------------------
Matt walked home as quickly as he could, resisting the urge to break into a full on sprint. Once he made it to his building, he dashed up the stairs two at a time, and threw off his jacket as soon as he shut his door behind him. He furiously loosened his tie as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and used the voice command to open up the notification once again. This time when he opened it, he was met with the sound of your voice. 
“Hey baby, I missed you. Did you miss me?” 
Your smooth and sugary voice went straight to his cock, so he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, stepping out of them on his living room floor. He palmed over the bulge in his black boxers and pulled off his tie before going to work unbuttoning his shirt as your voice continued to play through his phone.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day. I even had to excuse myself from a meeting to go touch myself in the bathroom, but I wished it was your hand. You know just what to do to make me feel good.” 
Matt was so caught up in your voice that it took him a moment to realize he was now half naked in his living room, right on display in front of the window. Truthfully, he didn’t care if the neighbors saw him, but he grabbed his phone and went into his bedroom. He placed his phone on the nightstand, shed his boxers, and climbed under his silk sheets. 
“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out as he slowly stroked his cock while you continued to talk. 
“Am I turning you on, baby? I can see you’re getting awfully worked up in those dress pants. I’m getting pretty wet, myself. You’re so fucking hot. You wanna watch while I rub my clit?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Make those pretty noises for me,” he replied as if you were in the room with him.
You let out a moan as you rubbed your clit, and Matt swore he could hear how wet you were. He started stroking his cock faster and you moaned louder. 
“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come, baby.”
“Yes, come for me, sweetheart. Fucking scream for me.” 
“But I wanna come with your cock inside me, so I’ll wait for you. I want you to feel me, and I want to feel you. Let’s come together, baby.” 
Suddenly his hand wasn’t good enough anymore, so he sat up in the bed and stuffed one of his pillows between his thighs to straddle it. The cool silk of the pillowcase felt like heaven against his achingly hard cock that was dripping with precum and begging for release. He started counting the Hail Mary’s he was going to have to say later for this depraved act in his head, but in the moment, he couldn’t be bothered to care. 
“You’re so big, baby. Do you think you’ll fit?”
“I’ll go slow, sweetheart, I promise. We can make it fit.” 
Matt rolled his hips against the pillow at the same time you let out another moan, and he grabbed onto his headboard for leverage. 
“You feel so good, filling me up so perfectly. Fuck me, baby” 
“You feel good too. I’ll go slow at first. I want to feel you.” 
“You’re not gonna hurt me, I can handle it. Just fuck me, baby. Please.” 
“How can I say no when you asked so nicely?” he purred. 
He quickened his pace as you continued making soft sounds of pleasure. He should be ashamed of what he’s doing: fucking his pillow while listening to audio porn and responding back to you as if you could hear him. But, he didn’t care. Once he accidentally discovered erotic audios, he couldn’t get enough, and you were his favorite creator. Your voice was like a drug to him, and he was always jonesing for another hit. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually fuck you instead of his pillow, but he would have to settle for this for now. 
“Oh, fuck I’m so close. I’m gonna come baby. Are you gonna come too?” 
“Fuck. Yeah, sweetheart I’m gonna come.” 
“Come inside me.”
You let out a guttural, almost feral moan, and Matt screamed in tandem with you. His thrusts became more erratic, sweat was beading on his forehead, and he was white knuckling the headboard. He was getting closer with every sound you made, and he wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer. 
“Oh, OH F-FUCK.” 
“Yes, sweetheart. Oh yes, oh FUCK.” 
His chest heaved, his breathing was ragged, and his hips stuttered into the pillow as he came hard. He collapsed backward onto the mattress, a thin sheen of sweat covering his entire body. “Shit,” he breathed out as he ran one of his hands down his face. 
“Did you like that? Be sure to subscribe for more, and don’t be shy about leaving me a comment! Until next time, audiophiles…”
After a few minutes, Matt sat up and reached for his phone to close the app. He knew that pillowcase was ruined, but that could wait. He stood up on shaky legs and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. As much as he loved your voice, and how turned on he got by it, he longed to have you in his bed so he could hold you afterwards, and maybe even join him in the shower. 
When he was done washing the post-coital sweat off his body, he dried off and put on a fresh pair of boxers and sweatpants, threw the defiled pillowcase in the trash, and sat down to leave you a comment on your latest audio that he got off to. He set his phone back on his nightstand, laid down in bed, and allowed his mind to wander about how you actually felt and how your skin smelled. Maybe one day he could find someone with a voice as gorgeous as yours. 
—-----------------------------------------------
The “CLOSED” sign had long since been displayed in the door of the coffee shop, and you were finally done with your closing duties for the evening. Your boss said you were free to go, so you grabbed your bag and your jacket, said your goodbyes, and headed out to your shoebox of an apartment. You loved living in New York City, but it was expensive, and just being a barista didn’t pay the bills. No one knew about your “side hustle”, and you liked it that way. It was oddly empowering to you that you were a caffeine peddler by day, but you used your voice to get people off by night. It was perfect because you could have fun living out your own fantasies, but no one knew your face. 
After scarfing down the take out you picked up on your way home, you sat down to check the notifications on your latest audio post. There were always lots of comments to sift through, but there was one username in particular that commented on every single audio you posted, and you always looked forward to their comments. 
As you scrolled through the comments, you finally saw the one you were looking for: “rllygdlwyr commented: So hot as always, sweetheart. I ruined a silk pillowcase with this one. May have to start buying them in bulk if you keep this up.” 
You laughed and bit your lip at the comment. Normally, subscribers calling you pet names would creep you out, but this one was loyal, and they pretty much paid for your take out habit with their subscription and their tips. As much as you hated to admit it, they kind of kept you going.
Once you were done checking your account and responding to comments, you took a shower, put on some slinky lingerie, and pulled out your favorite toys to make a new audio. According to their username, they were most likely a lawyer, so tonight you decided to try a little roleplay. 
“I’m afraid I’m guilty, but is there anything I can do to lessen my sentence? I heard you’re a really good lawyer.” 
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me, waking up drenched in sweat, violently sitting up in bed and letting out a gasp: IT'S A METAPHOR FOR BEING A YOUTUBER
idk if someone already thought of this and this is also probably the most obvious reading of it but here i go anyway: i was just walking a dog and listening to potato prints and when phil said "you've come a long way daniel" i was like "huh phil is in the teaching position in all of these just like he was for youtube" like phil just gives editing pro tips the whole time and it all parallels their story as a youtube duo.
and obviously the entertainment industry is rife (not proper usage of that word but it Feels Right so fuck you) with satanic symbolism/imagery/iconography/motifs. being an entertainer is "selling your soul to the devil" etc etc and we know dan hates being a youtuber and does feel that way. you gotta upload twice a day every day in order to be the number one art channel on youtube dot com after all. you gotta make those crafts for satan. bo burnham has a ton of lyrics/songs that i'm thinking about rn like "you used to do comedy when you felt like being funny but now you're contractually obligated so dance you fucking monkeeeey DANCE MONKEY DAAAANCE" and in "repeat stuff" which is a commentary of how mainstream pop love songs and pop stars have to be really superficial and unoriginal because they need to appeal to everyone and at one point he sucks satan off lmao and is like AHFRUEHQFWIIO I AM A VESSEL IDUSHISKA 666 KAJSDFI ILLUMINATI UIGDFSAHIO FREEMASONS. highly recommend looking at the lyrics to that song if you're into that kind of thing.
also the (very rightful) dig at phannies for the "don't cry craft" spamming like "we love all of our crafty audience that spread the message of this channel on all the other videos on the internet! everywhere! everybody enjoyed that!" is how creators who want to keep status have to address their audiences no matter how annoying or harmful they're being. thinking of the ajr line "stay out of politics, stay on the fence / stay out of all of it to keep half your fans" because like,, yeah if a creator ever expresses an opinion that declares their feelings on one side of an issue then they will lose support (smosh is a perfect example of a bunch of people never ever ever expressing an opinion if it could be considered controversial among their audience, like refusing to address the genocide happening right now and just taking their zionist member who the fans are mad at out of some videos to be like "shhhhh nothing to see here we don't know what you're talking about"), ESPECIALLY if that issue is the behaviour of their audience.
obviously the first dapc video was not made with any intended meaning, they just woke up and were like "let's be weird and freak people out" and they did that, and then adding in symbolism and making it all mean something developed with time. but i'm gonna pretend that it has always had consistent meaning because i'm neurodivergent and love overanalysing silly little media.
i am so jhfbvdahfkiufadkhlj right now so if anyone has more theories or things to add lmk and thank you for coming to my ted talk
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delimeats-000 · 6 months
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Just the Editor
summary: chris teasing the podcast editor takes a little turn
warnings: language, make outs, dry humping
requested.
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im editing a podcast for THE sturniolo triplets. this is big, like huuge. these guys got me through senior year of hs, and now im their editor, like wtf.
on the set beyond the wall that divides us i can hear the guys laughing with one another.
they’ve been recording for about 2 and a half hours. they should be done soon and come check the final product of the last pod i edited.
soon enough they finish their current recording and come to the editors office.
“Hey y/n/n.” nick says.
“Hey nick.” i get out of my chair to hug him and greet the other boys. “Im pretty much done if you guys wanna take a peek on the last episode.”
“Oh i have a meeting with madi and laura that matts gonna drive me to.” nick hesitates. “If chris is up for it he can stay and watch.”
“Yeah i can come pick him up after the meeting.” matt chimes in.
“Ok sounds good.”
no it doesn’t, two of three triplets gone leaving me with the third that i just so happen to be absolutely smitten over.
matt interrupts my thoughts, “Alright cool. We’ll be back.”
“Be good Chris.” nick laughs before heading out the door and closing it behind him.
i turn to face chris. i hope to god he doesn’t see how nervous i am.
“Ok so you ready?”
“Uhh yeah, you got pepsi?”
“Yeah there should be some in the fridge downstairs.”
“You wanna lead me over there? Please?”
“Of course.” i stand up and quickly walk to the foor opening it for him.
“No no, ladies first.” he winks.
fuck.
“Thanks.” wtf, THANKS, dumbass.
he laughs tho, ok cool, play it cool.
we walk down the stairs and into the kitchen in silence.
“Do you want one or two?” i say bent over in the fridge reaching for his pepsi. he steps close behind me, resting his hand on my lower back.
“Lemme get two, just in case.”
“ok.” i feel weak, his hand feels so firm and strong.
compared to the cold room i was in his hand is hot and the temperature change makes me shiver.
“Are you ok?” he asks as i stand up.
“Yeah just cold.”
“Here take my sweatshirt.”
before i can decline the offer he’s already taking it off revealing a wife beater that lifts halfway up his torso as the sweatshirt comes off. my eyes go wide and i dont get the chance to fix my expression before he notices the blush on my face.
he laughs softly, “Here goof, put it on.”
i take the sweater and put it on.
“You look good.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem, lets go watch the pod.”
“Yeah.”
my face is most definitely flushed, im hot, genuinely burning up and the sweater is making this worse now, but it smells so good. i cant take it off, not yet.
“Ok here you go.” i pass him my laptop and headphones so he can watch the pod on the loveseat in the office.
“Yo, you’re not gonna watch with me?”
“Uh, i guess i can.”
he scoots over and hands me the other headphone. he presses play. i cant even focus on the video in front of me, all i can think about is the fine ass man right next to me. shoulder to shoulder i swear i can feel his heart beat. there’s no way in hell im playing this cool. i just know im shaking. please god dont let him notice.
but he does anyways.
he pauses the video, “Is everything ok.”
i dont want to look him in the eyes, im gonna give it up. “Mhm, yeah.”
“Look at me.” he says quiet and gentle. but i dont look.
he grabs my face turning me towards him.
“I said look at me.”
he’s serious this time, his tone still quiet but now firm.
“Sorry.” i mumble.
“Shh, don’t apologize.” a smile grows on his face. “Whats on your mind?”
i shrug, struggling to make eye contact.
“Tell me, baby.”
im sure he could see the shock on my face because his subtle smirk turned into a soft chuckle.
“you’re pretty, chris.”
“You think so?”
i nod my head quickly.
“You’re beautiful, y/n.” he leans closer. “Can i kiss you?”
i nod once more before his lips land on mine.
he starts slow speeding up the kiss getting more rough. his tongue now caressing mine. he slowly runs his hand down to my neck and lets the other rest on my hip.
his sloppy kisses lead down my neck and i feel him leaving his mark. i let out a moan from the sharp pain, as i reach to grab his hair.
he bites harder making me let out another moan before he lets go, breathing hard he says, “Keep moaning for me, baby.”
“Yes sir.” i say as he goes back to making out with me.
i straddle his waist taking control grinding on his dick feeling the bulge grow larger.
“Fuck. Ke-keep going.”
now kissing down his neck and grinding against his hard cock, ive got him moaning for me.
then.
there’s a knock.
“Heeeyy.”
its nick. he opens the door to me struggling to get off chris. chris is completely unfazed as im absolutely embarrassed.
“Chris.”, matt laughs. “You didn’t.”
Nicks jaw completely dropped he turns around and walks out of the room.
Matt daps up chris before leaving too.
Chris stands up walking towards me, “Call me ok?”
i nod and he kisses my cheek before heading out the door.
i fall back onto the loveseat in utter disbelief.
“He forgot his sweatshirt.”
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dialogue key: nick - matt - chris - y/n
hope you like it, love you 🫶
EDIT: Pt 2 Out Now
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sturniolosass · 20 days
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I..want you - C.S
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In which Chris tries to handle a relationship that he’s no where near ready for, and you can’t have your emotions be toyed with…
warnings: swearing, feeling neglected, uncertainty, hurt feelings, talking stage chris.
ANGST, FAT ANGST!
Chris and I have been in this "talking" stage for around 3 months but the thing is stuff has been getting really serious and its gotten to the point where we've become so attached to one another that we see each other each day and sleep in each others beds, at one point we both spoke on marriage.. not like seriously about it but what we’d like to gain from it..if you get what i mean.
But this pass week somethings been off, I've texted, I've called, I've messaged him through DMs for christ's sake.. No reply..
So today I've been contemplating heading over to the boy's place and seeing what's been going on.. maybe he's sick, maybe he's down in a rut about something... I'm not sure but I need to see what's going on maybe I'll stop by and even find out they're out of internet or something.. I couldn't imagine the reason Chris would ghost me for 3 whole days.. He doesn't even seem like the type of guy to go talking to a bunch of girls, I couldn't imagine him being unfaithful to me, even though we're barely a couple to begin with.. regardless heading over there wouldn't hurt that bad... at least I hope not..
Getting dressed I head out the door sending chris one last message before I head out to his home.
Hey, I'm headed over, i know I wasn't invited so if you don't want me over or something just let me know...
I wait 10 minutes, No response
I grab my keys and head out the door.
Arriving I hop out the car to knock on the door, I'm greeted with Matt. "Yo! what's up, Chris should still be sleep but he's in the basement if you wanna wake em" he greets. "hey, yeah I've been looking for him" I speak. He let's me in walking up the steps to the living room.. I immediately head to the back of the house towards Chris' room, walking down the steps and then the hallway leading up to his door. I hesitate, thinking of all the things that could possibly go wrong when I turn this door knob.. twisting the door knob I'm met with a pitch black room.. a sleeping Chris laying flat on his stomach with one knee bent up north.
I just sit at the edge of the bed contemplating whether or not I should wake him and risk being greeted with his morning anguish.. Being the pussy I am, I just kick off my shoes and lay with him, picking his arm up off the bed and snuggling under it cozily.. He moves mumbling under his breathe inaudible words... I soon fall asleep right next to him..
Chris' POV
I wake up unexpectedly cuddled into y/n confused as to how she amazingly got into my room yet alone my house... Things like this genuinely annoy me, I've started to distance myself for some time now because of how serious we were getting, it began to really freak me out.. from the goodmorning messages to the worrying about my sleep schedule... things started feeling all too real. Don't get me wrong I really, really like y/n but us doing all these lovey-dovey things really scares me... aggravated I head upstairs to find out who the fuck just let her come down here while I was sleeping... Once I'm up the stairs I see Nick and Matt sitting at the dining room table, Nick editing, Matt eating cereal. "ouuu Mr. lover boy is up, how was you cuddle session?" Matt jokes.."Matt shut the fuck up, who the fuck- who just let y/n in my room and when did that happen? I didn't even go to bed until like 4 am so I know it was one of you fucking early birds" I ask angrily grabbing a Brisk can from the fridge.. "wasn't me." Nick blurts.. "who cares, its not like she was gonna murder you.. she said she was looking for you.." Matt explains.. "bro I was ignoring her for a reason.." I shout.. "well she's here now, what were you gonna ghost her something? did she do something?" He asks.. "yeah she's getting all weird and clingy and shit.." .... "like asking 'how my day was' and' if I slept well' and shit" I add... Matt looks at me weirdly "you mean caring about your well being? you're such an idiot" He gets up from the table heading to his room.. "GRAB YOUR FUCKING BOWL IM NOT YOUR MAID" Nick nearly busts my ear drums yelling at Matt.. "dude are you crazy?" I ask heading to the steps that lead to my bedroom.. "shut up bitch" Nick rolls his eyes...
Your POV
I wake up in Chris' bed alone.. not worried where he went I just wait for him to come back down the steps which is where I assume he went, starting to scroll on TikTok I hear Nick scream at the top of his lungs about 'being a maid' which I laugh at..
I then hear Chris heading back down the stairs, I hurriedly sit up fix my hair worried of what he'll have to say to me, then I start to think of what I should say to him.. I don't even know how I feel.. I wanna talk about us moving forward in our relationship but I also need to figure out why he's been acting all distant lately, I hope he doesn't think I haven't noticed.. because to be honest it feels like he has literally blocked me out of his life for the past 3-4 days..
He enters the room I stare down at my feet He walks straight pass me.. I look up. He heads straight into his bathroom... I flop back down on his bed..
Getting up from the bed I decide to make it, fluffing the duvet, tucking the sheets , fluffing the pillows.. Chris has been in the bathroom for around an hour now, I hear music, assuming he's in the shower, I clean a little more. Throwing away Pepsi cans and food casing from last night, I assume.. grabbing dirty clothes off the floor throwing them in his hamper... Suddenly I hear the water and music stop.. shuffling in the bathroom continues until Chris comes out in fresh love sweats and a black tank top, dropping his dirty clothes on the bed near his bed and heading over to his computer, I grab them and throw then in the hamper to which I assume irritates Chris.. "Can you stop!" Chris shouts... "wha-" I start to speak soon being cut off, "like you're being weird leave my clothes where I left then I didn't ask you to clean for me!" He adds.. "I mean what else am I supposed to do? You've been ignoring my presence sense I got here!" I shout back... "go home! I don't fucking know!" He replies.. "what the fuck is even your problem? like what have I even done for you to react this way to me cleaning for you?" I ask genuinely confused... He doesn't respond.. "hellooo" I speak in a questioning manner... “maybe i just don’t like you anymore and don’t need you to be here, i’m starting to even question why i did in the first place like you’re being so fucking annoying and clingy” he huffs… “all you do is bug me now gosh!” he adds…. I look to the ground genuinely hurt… it honestly makes sense, every guy i like always ends up ghosting me and it makes sense why at this point.. i can’t help that i am too “caring”.. apparently that freaks out a lot of guys..
“what so this is how you treat every girl you like? or liked?” i ask.
"I was ready to drop everything and be your girlfriend, in fact my plan today was to come ask you to be with me..I was ready for everyone to know how we've been these pass few months and not give a fuck what any hater or 'fan has to say.." I say holding back emotions.. "I never said I was ready for that, I never spoke on being together like that" He speaks.. "So what? we were just gonna be 'talking' for however long?" I ask. No response.. He just continues to stare at his computer screen. I just look back and sit down on his bed. blinking back tears.. He stares at the computer screen, nothing on it, not scrolling, no video, no music, nothing... Just staring, deep in thought...
We sit in silence for around 10 minutes before I speak again
"Chris?, can you say something? because I've done nothing but try to keep things working between us.. You've ignored me for almost 3 days when before you'd message me everyday 'How are you' , 'come over' , 'when are you free' , 'lets see a movie' , 'lets hang out before I leave for Boston.' " I count off examples.. "I just don’t get how we can go from something so good.. or what I thought was good, to you completely ignoring my existence." I add.. He continues to stare at the blank screen, until.. "I don't know okay, I just feel weird when I'm around you? you're always so caring and shit like that freaks me the fuck out..." he breaks silence. "I never feel this deep of feelings for anything, its fucking annoying.." He adds... "Well, I care about you.. its true, I care about how you slept, I care if you have a nightmare, I care if you feel a cold coming on, I care if you're upset with how much I care... because I genuinely like you Chris, and I don't know maybe this is one of those " right person, wrong time" moments because I feel like we deserve each other..." I speak whole-heartedly.. He just stares at his hands... I stand up.. "maybe in another life then?" I ask headed for the door... He doesn't respond.
I grab the door knob opening it slowly hoping he'd say something to keep me from leaving...n
"wait" he speaks "I wanna try- I want you- I wanna be with you..." he adds looking up from the floor despair in his eyes. "Chris I just don't feel like you're ready for what I'm ready for.." I reply.. “i’m ready- i am” he pleads… “how when just a moment ago you were telling me you were unsure if you even liked me” i ask… He looks down at his hands, I grab my bag and keys walking out of the room..
I hear him get up rushing out the room, he slows down once he sees me standing at the steps. Walking up to me slowly he pulls me in for a kiss, which i kindly reject hoping he gets the hint.. “i like you a lot Y/N.. i just- i need time to understand my self more. i’ve been used and hurt so many times..” he tells.. I just look at his hands in mine.. letting go i turn to walk up the steps… “can i call you later?” he asks.. I turn back “i feel like time apart might actually be what we need at this time, my feelings are genuinely hurt by the things you’ve said to me today” i reply. “i didnt mean it- you know that…” he looks up at me… I walk up the steps walking past Nick and leaving the boys house “bye Y/N see you sometime again hopefully, i know my brothers an asshole” Nick yelps from the dinning table…
I smile walking out the door.. knowing that’s possibly the end of my friendship with the boys…
fin.
A/N: the long awaited.. sorry yall i got busy but here it is!!! Hope yall like Chris and his trust issues!
taglist- @junnniiieee07 @frankdelreyy @ireadstoriss @freshsturns @unbruisable
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uglypastels · 9 months
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okay there is this video on pornhub that i can’t stop thinking about with modern!eddie. it’s a minecraft redstone tutorial where this guy is getting head while showing how to make a daylight sensor lamp and automatic doors and it’s so funny but also i can’t stop imagining like eddie fucking reader while giving a tutorial on something so pleaseeeee i beg i beg i beg
it is 10 am and when i read this i could not stop laughing (bc it was quite unexpected) so obviously i had to go do some research and holy shit. that's all I'm gonna say. thank you for the request <3
warnings: smut 18+ only MDNI. oral (m receiving). slight bored and ignored vibes. sex work/on camera sex. pwp - we're getting straight to the point here.
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Eddie sat the camera up over his desk, so when he sat down in his chair, the angle would pick up on most of his naked body and you sitting between his legs, hand already slowly moving across his length.
He shot you a quick smile and blew you a kiss before he leaned over to pick up his guitar. sliding a bit back in his chair, he placed the instrument over his stomach, strumming it a few times before looking up at the camera.
'Hey everyone, so today I thought I'd teach you how to...' As he began to explain, you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock. As usual, when it came to these kinds of videos of his, Eddie barely reacted to the touch and just kept on talking about the kind of guitar he was holding, but a trained eye might just notice the flex in his thighs.
'So, what you gotta do...' he placed one hand on the neck of the guitar, showing the camera the placement of the fingers to play the right chords. Meanwhile, his other hand swiped gently over your hair, petting you encouragingly as you took him deeper into your mouth.
You both continued doing your own thing, enjoying the simple presence of each other's company practically. To you, the camera was long forgotten, and his words were just a low hum in your mind, the sound of it always putting you at peace.
At certain moments, Eddie would readjust his position in his chair, using it as an excuse to thrust into your mouth. You would mewl around him, exactly at the moment that he tried to play one of the more difficult parts of the song, and it would be one of the few moments he acknowledged you in the video.
'Shh, baby, not so loud.' He pushed some of your hair back, 'trying to film a video here.' You mouth a 'sorry' to him and continued on. As the video went on, you began to move faster, taking him deeper. It got sloppier, and any time he would thrust into you, he hit the back of your throat, resulting in a moan that went almost in sync with the melody he played.
'So, yeah, that's about it,' Eddie finished up the song, and from his indifferent expression, you wouldn't be even able to tell that his cum was sprayed all over your mouth and tits.
Just before he turned the camera off, he put the guitar back down and leaned down to kiss you, licking himself off your lips. 'You did so fucking good, baby. I love you.'
But that part wouldn't make the final edit. That was just for you and him.
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nei-ning · 8 months
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Gonna rant a bit. I saw one set of beautiful anthro arts on another website. Sadly they were done in AI. I did left a comment, complimenting how beautiful these arts were but how sad it made me that they were AI arts.
The artist themselves was kind and polite, telling they use AI because they want to learn and be able to make game arts one day (but they too, apparently, with AI so...)
But then there was another user, AI "artist" too who replied to me that there's absolutely NO ARTIST who can draw anthros with detailed fur, goat like arm, lights, colors etc without editing or photoshopping. On the whole planet, absolutely none! This person clearly don't believe in people's skills when it comes on arts. Heck, I followed one artist on DA who drew ALL her arts traditionally and she drew, and still does, SUPER DETAILED FURRY ANTHROS! No photoshop, editing, nothing digital. Just her hands, paper and a set of color pencils.
Also, if people's art skills wouldn't had been amazing back in the days through mankind, we wouldn't have cave paintings, old amazing paintings or sculptures, ALL DONE BY HANDS IN TRADITIONAL WAY. NO AI, NO PHOTOSHOP OR EDITING.
Humans can learn amazing skills if they only want to. AI artists, maybe not all, just wants to take the easiest way / be lazy (and get lots of likes - like that other person who straight forward said it. That he uses AI to create furry arts to get hundreds of likes).
They also mocked my style / arts, saying they are not good enough to be used in AI arts - yet.
Like what the actual fuck?! I am pissed! I don't even want my arts to be used in AI arts by some lazy idiot (or at all). At least I draw EVERYTHING in my arts, from first sketch line to the last shade / light. Surely my skills are not as good as they could be. After all I'm self-taught, not gone in art school like some have. Not to mention I draw for fun, I draw to bring joy to my watchers, I draw therapy arts to myself, I like to keep my style easy and simple. My arts are a hobby, not professional thing or to fish a lot of likes. If my arts can make someone's day a bit better, then I've done my job! I never haven't taken my arts or skills too seriously, trying to improve them to the top.
Is there times when I wish I would put more effort to my arts, learn and study more, becoming better? Absolutely! But do I bother? Not really. Like I said, this is a hobby. I know I would burnout myself if I would start to force and pressure myself to do better, to learn more, to improve my skills. I mean I struggle to draw even now!
I do have some saved tutorials on Pinterest what I would like to try, yes, but still not in a way like if I would have a fire under my ass.
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sophies-junkyard · 8 months
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NOBODY ASKED but… Obviously Simon’s arc in adventure time solidified the series as one of greatest of all time (and I’m so hyped for this ice king sadness renaissance) but now I’m thinking of OTHER Adventure Time moments that rewired my brain as a kid. In no particular order:
1. “Once the strong guys got it how they liked it they said ‘this is fair now. This is the law.’ Once they were winning they changed the rules”. They really had the cartoon dog say that on tv in 2014.
2. “People get built different. We don’t have to understand it, we just gotta respect it”
3. The entirety of All The Little People. That shit was absolutely nuts for a kids show but also like…. I can’t articulate the lesson I just know there was one and it haunted me. The danger of the human ego. Hubris. Irreverence. Don’t play god bro.
4. Lady and Peebles. When PB ripped Ricardio’s leg off and bashed his skull in with it. And it was so hardcore they edited it out of the episode. Bro. I remember watching that after school one day and how my jaw just DROPPED at a PRINCESS being so brutal. They let her be so fucking angry and that was a game changer.
5. [Finn, about a horrific memory] “that one’s going in the vault. Aaaaaaaaaandd. It’s gone.” I quote that CONSTANTLY. It’s a great way to bring levity to a bad situation, but also forces me to go “hey wait a sec that’s not gonna work forever”. Things don’t stay in the vault.
6. Puhoy. He lived an entire life in that pillow world. He had kids. And then it’s just gone like a dream.
7. The deer. It was probably my first real introduction to horror. The hand wiggle. You all know exactly what I’m referencing. Were the candy people stuck in that well for 6 months???
8. What Was Missing!! Obviously now because it foreshadowed (and confirmed past) Bubbline, but back then just because it was so good??? IMO, this is the episode that defined WHO our main cast was, and how their relationships needed to grow for them to be content. It set up the next 6 years of the show! Plus it gave us 2 absolute BANGERS. Ugh i rewatched that recording so many times it wasn’t even funny.
9. Ghost Princess. Really just for the line where he sounds like he’s gonna shit his pants remembering his death and then in a clear narrator voice he’s like “I was a broken man.”
10. The pajama war episode. Now I’m doing this from memory so I could be wrong, but I think this really marks the start of Finn growing up. “I’ve really enjoyed just… hanging out with you.” The ability to start over with someone you’ve got complicated history with. The kindness. The growth from both of them!! It’s a direct parallel of episode 1 but their tones couldn’t be more different and I love it.
11. The slow and horrifying realization that The Mushroom War was nuclear Armageddon. Mushroom clouds. That went so far over my head as a kid even though they reference it constantly. It finally clicked during “I remember you”. Which I am NOT gonna go into because holy fuck that’s like 18 posts on its own.
12. Goliad! A child mirroring EVERYTHING they see, for better or worse. Seeing Jake in a bad moment screaming at the kids and goliad absorbing that behavior. Seeing she can use fear to control people. Also PB was Fucking Crazy! Her line “I’m not gonna live forever… I would if I could” is even more unhinged when we learn (like years later) that she’s already 900 years old. But she does physically age so I guess there’s that. The Suitor also falls into this category of episodes.
Ok getting into some of the more talked about moments
1. OK I LIED I have to talk about I remember you. I was 11 years old. I turned on the new adventure time episode like usual. 10 minutes later I was grappling with a grief I had never imagined before. Absolutely BAWLING not just for Simon and Marceline (the PLOT), but for what it showed me. The reality that every kid tries not to think about: your loved ones will leave you someday, even if they don’t want to. It’s an episode that becomes more powerful with every year I get older. To get a bit personal, dementia has completely taken my grandparents from me. I’ve seen sides of my grandfather that should never have existed, and I must constantly forgive him for what he does… now that he doesn’t remember me. And someday it’ll be my parents. That’s just the way of the world, ya know? Anyways, I remember my mom got home right as the credits were rolling and we had a long talk about keeping people alive with memory, mortality, and how the future was far away and we should decide on dinner lmao.
2. The Hall of Egress. I was almost 15. Life was changing. I was changing, and it was strange and frightening. That feeling where you know you’re losing your childhood but you just want to cling to it. Follow the same old familiar path, stick with what’s comfortable. But life doesn’t work that way. It took me years to really understand this episode and it’s symbolism. Honestly I still don’t think I could fully explain it. It’s like. How do I put this. I was so glad to be in the target age group in that moment. I was so glad that something I was growing up with was assuring me “you’re changing, but we’re changing too”. And isn’t that the theme of adventure time? Everything stays, but it still changes.
3. The absolute horror of Ferns existence. He’s Finn, but he’s wrong and warped. All those memories of the people he loves and they can’t stand to be in the same room as him.
4. Susan Strong. The introduction of a RUNNING PLOT. The show up to that point had really been so goofy and so monster of the week. I think the only really plot heavy episode before this one was It Came From the Nightosphere? And then suddenly they call into question the fact that Finn really is the ONLY HUMAN in all of OOO. And then… is he? It was SUCH a departure from the usual tone. Ending that episode with him reaching below her hat and gasping in shock, but never telling the audience what he found. And then she’s just gone. Which leads us to Islands!
5. Min and Marty. Second saddest episode in the entirety of adventure time, made worse because you know exactly how this family is gonna end up. There’s SO MUCH to dissect about Martins behavior in the series. A reformed con artist receives a traumatic brain injury while attempting to save his son. They’re both lost at sea, and he never looks for him. Was it the emotional trauma? Was it the physical damage? Meanwhile a mother loses her husband and her child in a single night and never EVER learns why. Nobody but Martin knows what happened that night. Also Finns fear of the ocean from season 1 is finally explained. 7 years of ignoring Finns origins and then they throw you THIS??? Watching it live was unreal.
Anyways I’m sure I’ll think of more. I might add on to this later for my own sake lmao, but I’d love to hear other peoples formative moments, quotes, episodes, etc. I really just needed to dump this information out of my brain so I can get on with my week.
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et6rnalsun · 4 months
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HATEFUCK / Chris Sturniolo
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౨ৎ pairing / chris sturniolo x fem! reader
౨ৎ summary / smoking with the guy you just can’t stand
౨ৎ cw / smoking weed, mention of getting drunk / alcohol, messy makeout sesh, NOT EDITED
A/N ⁑ not feeling smut today, but stilllll ☺️☺️ this is so ugly sorry
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there's nothing worse than hating someone you're forced to spend most of your time with.
even worse when everything bothers you, like when he’s just breathing your air like any other person.
even worse if it’s chris sturniolo doing it. hating him is so easy for you that you haven't even tried to like him. his character that’s so damn annoying, overconfident, always ready with a small comment to ruin your whole mood. you just don’t like him, and it’s pretty reciprocated.
sometimes you hate being friend with his two brothers, since one of the consequences is finding him everywhere all the time.
and, being in your car with him as your passenger princess, is close to your point of no return.
after a rather messy and chaotic party which ended almost at dawn, you found yourself having to drive him home since the only brother with a driving licence, matt, was completely gone. you were the only option not drunk or high as hell.
at that moment the only word that could fully describe you was "stressed", and with yet another huff, you ran a hand through your hair while the other rested on the steering wheel.
you could clearly feel his gaze on you, slowly sliding over your soft curves that were hugged by the dress you had chosen for the occasion. his eyes felt like they were undressing you, doing what his hands couldn't.
you didn't like the sensations that gesture caused you.
“that dress looks good on you, really good” it was his hoarse voice that broke the silence that had been created, making you tense in your seat. there was a hint of tease in his tone, like always.
“you’re not allowed to talk in my car” the way you punctuated each word showed no emotion as you continued to focus on the road. that elicited a laugh from him, making you roll your eyes. "oh, is that so?"
hearing your silence as answer, he sighed with mock drama. "shame."
you stopped yourself from sighing in relief when he didn't open his mouth again after those words, making you relax in your seat for a moment. at a red light you took the opportunity to take the phone, quickly clicking on the nick contact.
ring. ring. ring. “he’s not gonna use his phone till tomorrow, trust me” chris said nonchalantly, his temple resting on the car window as he looked at you with attentive eyes.
"why the fuck didn't you stop the only two sane people from getting drunk?" you asked rhetorically, finally turning your head to look at him. his smirk returned to his lips as soon as your eyes met his, and he licked his lips as he shrugged. "i'm not their babysitter, am i?"
"if you put it that way, i'm not your babysitter either. so i don't have to take you home.”
"i never asked you to do it, beautiful" chris said sarcastically, shifting in his seat briefly to reach the pocket of his jeans. your attention was back on the road as the light turned green, preventing you from seeing what he was looking for. "i should have left you on the street, you're right"
“oh, you just like me so much that you never would” he gave your thigh a little pat, his fingers lingering there for a few seconds before they landed on what looked like a lighter. the mere touch sent shivers down your spine. fuck off. “chris, you’re not fucking smoking weed in my car” you briefly looked at what he was doing before even speaking, only to find out that you were right. his tongue was already tracing the end of the rolling paper so he could seal the weed in.
your mind was already wandering to some unsuitable thoughts that had as their protagonist that fucking tongue that you knew perfectly well was capable of making you see paradise, creating one if you thought it didn't exist. how wasted that tongue was there and not on you.
chris noticed that you were looking at him, and as he lit the joint and a bit of smoke came out of his lips, his gaze was on you. "when you scold me, at least try not to look at me that much" he paused, enjoying the sensation for a moment. "not that i don't appreciate it, of course"
“shut up” your fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel, huffing in irritation as the strong smell of weed tickled your nose. "throw that fucking joint out the window before i throw you"
"and waste some good shit?" he raised an eyebrow, as if I had just said something more than crazy. "never, doll” he let the smoke out of his nose slowly, tilting his head slightly as if he was thinking about something. "do you want some? it’ll help to calm your nerves" his tone was serious, but the last part uttered with undeniable teasing.
not even time to respond that you were parked in front of his house, looking at him. "no. you can go now" chris huffed, rolling his eyes. “come with me” he said in a way that made clear he didn't accept a negative answer. "it’s late, and i’m home alone. i really want some company"
“don’t even think about it” you shook your head, crossing your arms. "come on, chris, don't make a fuss like a fucking kid. i'm tired and i want to go home."
“you have a house right in front of you” that was his response, and combined with his stupid face made you want to scream. you don't know what really convinced you, whether it was the hope of shutting him up, or the fact that you could really give yourself a few minutes before starting to drive again. the fact is that soon after you found yourself inside his house, your car keys dangling in your hand as you both made your way to the couch. a small sigh escaped your lips as the heat of the house fell on your body more than exposed by the dress.
"it didn't take me long to convince you"
“i was hoping not to hear your voice for another few good seconds” you sat on the couch, crossing your legs over each other as you looked up at him straight in the eyes from your position. it didn't take long before he fell right next to you, your shoulders almost touching.
he had seriously thrown away the joint he was smoking in the car earlier, so he was already rolling another one. "my offer is still valid" with a nod he made clear he was referring to the weed.
“mhm” your gaze was fixed on his long fingers working with precision as you spoke, absentmindedly biting your lower lip as you swayed your legs slightly, letting your knee brush against his briefly.
you could hear a sigh escape his lips at the contact, and as he ran his tongue over the rolling paper to seal it, he looked up to meet your eyes, making you want to disappear. once he did, he leaned even closer to place the joint between your lips, while holding the lighter in his other hand. "you already did this, right?" and after a brief nod from you, he lit it for you. "here you go" from this closeness, his voice was lower and much more hoarse, and it reached your ears like a caress that barely touched the skin.
as you exhaled the smoke, his gaze didn't move from you for a moment. how your lips parted on the joint, how the smoke came out slowly and how your sweet scent was mixed with the definitely strong smell of the weed. you two continued to pass the joint for a few minutes, and the desired effect was definitely on both of you.
at a certain point chris placed the joint in the ashtray, and a small chuckle escaped your lips as you looked at him. “i wasn’t done yet” your voice was much more relaxed than before, and your body language too. like you were not talking to the motherfucker you hate the most.
he shrugged, a lazy smirk on his lips. “well, you are now” his hands tingled with the desire to touch you, to feel your exposed skin under his fingers. having you so close was becoming torture, and the heat under his pants too.
“i think its really late and i should go, let me see what time is it” your phone was on the other side of the couch, next to him, so you bent down slightly so you could reach it — causing his hand to rest on the small of your back automatically. when you looked up, your faces were inches apart, and you could clearly see his gaze fall to your lips. “don’t.” he whispered, returning to look into your eyes. “stay a bit more”
the uncertainty was clear on your face, but the temptation was stronger. “just a few minutes” you murmured in response, making him smile slightly as he rested his other hand on your cheek. “make it hours” and with that, he closed the distance between the two of you by kissing you. the kiss immediately became heated as your fingers gripped his shirt tightly, pulling him closer. his hand had trailed down to your ass, holding it in a firm grip that made you want him even more. it had become a dance of tongues and teeth that didn't seem to want to stop, tireless. he bit your bottom lip softly, successfully forcing a small moan of pleasure from your lips — the pain didn’t even seemed to exist in that moment.
his hands then gripped your thighs, making you straddle him as he explored your body with his fingers, the skin still covered in that paltry layer of fabric.
his lips broke away from yours, tracing your cheek with mouth-opened kisses that soon reached your neck, not even leaving a patch of skin unexplored.
pops, little moans and labored breathing had echoed within the four walls of the living room, and you couldn’t stop wanting more. your dress was now almost completely removed with his hands that were under it, and his shirt was already on the floor.
“i swear to god, i’m going to fuck the hate out of you”
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lariej · 1 year
Text
Ghost’s Manc Accent Guide (ish)
listen i’ve seen a few guides written for this fandom regarding writing Soap’s Scottish accent and yeah fair BUT i have not seen one done for writing a manc accent for Ghost yet!!
this is very much gonna be half arsed because while I myself am not a manc, i have grown up in the north west of england and literally my entire family is (Bolton/Denton on my dads side, Sale on my mums) but it might help some people
if something is from Manchester it is Mancunian - just an extra word to use instead of ‘from Manchester’ in writing (also whenever i see it written in fics i go ‘oh damn this author knows what they’re on about’)
now my experience with manc accents as i said before is Bolton/Denton and Sale which have their differences from a Central Manchester accent. to my knowledge we don’t know what area Ghost is from so i could be wrong here
BUT!! generally, mancunian accents will drop Hs at the beginning of words
‘don’t be hanging about’ ends up sounding more like ‘don’t be ‘angin’ about’
one of the most common things I’ve seen is dropping the G at the end of -ing words as well (as seen about with hanging)
you get the classic northern “fuckin ‘ell!”through this which absolutely Ghost would say
this next one might not be a central manchester thing but it IS something i’ve heard my dad do so if you’re writing Ghost with a heavier accent from the outer regions of Manchester this could be of some use to you
‘you was’, ‘I were’, ‘we was’ - just fucking around with the grammar rules really, I’ve found it’s usually with the heavier accents and when ur getting a bit ‘lazier’ with speaking - definitely a very informal thing
also - we don’t say y’all. it is very much not a typical thing for someone to use y’all unless they have a lot of interaction with american content on social media which i doubt Ghost does
instead consider ‘yous’ - this might be more from where i’m from (Lancashire - further up north about a county over from Greater Manchester) but yous/yers are something u hear - again though, very informal and slang like, rarely hear adults say it
I’m not gonna go into much detail with specific mancunian slang simply bc i wasn’t raised there so my knowledge of it is spotty aside from what my family uses but:
arse not ass
can’t be arsed - can’t be bothered
piss off - self explanatory, fuck off
add ‘absolutely’ to damn near anything and u will have a phrase for drunk - go tos are ‘wankered’ ‘fucked’ ‘pissed/pissed up’
bollacks - balls but also can be used as and exclamation when stuff goes wrong
‘shits gone tits up’ - stuff has definitely gone wrong
‘fuck sake’ - usually said with great exasperation and annoyance, emphasis when speaking is on the ‘sake’
hope this helps someone!! and if anyone has any corrections or additions please do let me know!!
Edit: Lots more info and help in the reblogs!! I’ve been updating this post recently!!
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forsworned · 11 days
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That Keegan post you made had me clutching my PEARLS! Your use of words was so masterfully done! I really loved the new vocab I learned while reading your work.
Your depiction of the relationship was also so so nice. Very loving and attentive and just so sweet. I could tell they loved one another and had already established boundaries that they knew they shouldn’t cross. The ending was lovely as well, a great way to tie things up.
Thank you for writing it! I’m excited to see what else your lovely brain comes up with!
-🧢
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Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ
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Sypnosis: When Keegan finds you petrified, running for your life from creatures unknown to you in the Haunted Appalachia trails after sundown, he takes you in for the night. Things get a bit crazy...
Warning(s): Mentions of Sexual Content, Violence, Petnames (?), Blood, Supernatural Horror (?), Eventual Smut, Barely Proofread, Reader is 28 and Keegan is 30, Reader is also AFAB
Word Count: 7.5k (enjoy keegan lovers ;)
Author's note: Blue cap anon thank you so much for inspiring me to write for Keegan. Honestly, I really love how this fic turned out and I hope you do too. I am so sorry I took so long to reply to you but you seriously warmed my heart so sosososo much when I read your message. I did not mean to put you on the back burner for this long/ Just know I have put so much effort into this to provide you a solid work so I hope that is a good enough excuse to have such a delayed response. Also so glad that you learned some new words LOL that really tickles me tbh, but I want to work more with the relationship that reader builds with Keegan in general or with any character x reader I write. So please enjoy this :)
edit: i think it's lowkey not living up to my expectations but ummm fuck it we ball
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Sparks fly as the firewood in the pit crackles, casting an orange ember over you and the stranger sitting in front of you. His eyes, reminiscent of the cool, blueness of winter are lingering on you, and his heavy, leather jacket drapes over your shoulders to shield you from the chilliness of the early April evening. With his black cowboy hat slightly tilted upward, you note the black bandana covering most of his face, adding an air of mystery to his appearance.
"You really shouldn't be out here." His voice edges a precarious tone, though you cannot determine if it's toward you or whatever lurks in the abysmal woods. Maybe it was both. Your fingers curl around the distressed tanned hide, fiddling with the stitching of the material. A shudder careens through the columns of your spine, goosebumps trail over your skin, and the fuzz across your neck rises briefly.
"Don't look. Don't even acknowledge it." He instructs, steadying his gaze on you as he tinkers with the butterfly knife in his gloved hand. "W-what?" You gasp out, eyes reaming as your quivering vision sets on the embers of the pyre. A sinister presence harks over your convulsing body, heart palpitating out of your tightening sternum. But as soon as it arrives it departs and you're left heaving for the oxygen that was stripped from your lungs.
"I'm not gonna ask you again, what are you doin' walkin' around aimlessly in these mountains?" He repeatedly latches and unlatches the metal object in his hands, his gaze fixates on you. Truthfully, you were lost. When the engine of the old Dodge that you inherited from your grandfather abruptly cut out as you passed through a dead zone, it was all hauling ass from there on out. Classic damsel in distress situation.
Your father and he had both warned you about the Appalachian mountains. How apex predators inhabited the woods, preying on the innocent, ripping flesh apart on sight, or disappearing into the ghastly woods to never return. But, of course, you wrote it off as fearmongering. Never had you experienced the soul-crushing, harrowing existence of unidentified, cryptids lurking within the lacunas of the evergreens.
"My truck it—" You start to say, but the sound of him exhaling loudly cuts you off and you glance up at him with misery strewn across your features. Doe-eyes glimmering from the wetness that was welling in your oculars as your lips tremble. He outstretches his arm to the lantern on the perched log, "I've heard enough."
He begins to get up, extinguishing the flame, smothering it with what seemed to be a bag of salt and you felt fear creeping back into your system.
"Come on." As the pyre's embers fade, the lantern's switch emits a squeak, coaxing the oil flame to life, while the blood-curdling shrieks send shivers down your spine, ringing in your ears. And as if on cue, you cling to his side and he lets out a soft huff, feeling your arm coil around his.
The inferno acts as a bulwark from whatever is skulking around the both of you in the obscurity of the night as you move through the forest. You catch glimpses of shadows trekking about, seemingly running away from you now. A stark contrast from the previous frantic sprint through the woods in your petite, white frilly prairie dress that was now tattered at the edges and puffy sleeves. Now, you were safe. At least you certainly hope so.
A tiny light enters your line of sight in the distance, and you can only assume that that is his home. But you were still heeding the noises and images being molded in front of human eyes. It was as if the veil was lifted here, a supernatural existence in the vast mountains and woods of the Appalachia. You don't know whether to be terrified or fascinated, but you keep quiet as he silently leads you down the desire path to his home that is etching itself a little more into the horizon.
Approaching the home, you begin to notice the clandestine features of the house. A zephyr sweeps past you and the distinct smell of lavender and sage gently brims into your senses. You visibly shudder as the steps creak under your weight, your arm remains tucked into his own as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the door. Like a gentleman, he gestures to allow you in first and he follows closely behind, shutting it behind him.
"Shoes off at the door." He directs, treading past you as he tosses another piece of firewood into the lit fireplace.
What the fuck?
Is he just not going to acknowledge the paranormal manifestation that incurred upon them just now? The shadows of unearthly skinwalkers who infest the woods, who are prowling out there now as they barricade themselves from the outside? What is stopping them from forcefully intruding into his home?
You finally catch your breath for a moment, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest before you speak. "Are we not going to talk about what we just saw?"
"Nope." He simply replies, from another room and you blink back in surprise. Then it sinks in.
Of course, how could you forget? How can you forget the rules of the Appalachia, that were engrained into you as a child?
If you see something strange in the wilderness, no, you didn't.
If you hear something call your name, no, you didn't.
If you hear screaming in the Appalachian mountains, especially a woman's scream, no, you didn't. 
If you feel something stalking you, do not run.
Never, ever, whistle at night. 
Never go into the woods at night.
Never leave your windows open at night, even in the summer and honestly, the list dragged on and on and on.
Most of it falls on deaf ears never believing in the legends, and yet, here you are shaken up by things you never thought existed in a stranger's home who found it in his heart to shelter you until what you suppose would be dawn.
A wavering breath escapes you as you take a long gander at the well-maintained colonial home. The timeless and heirloom quality of the home becomes evident upon analyzing the vast array of paintings and framed photographs adorning the walls, each depicting individuals with strikingly similar features—dark brows, thick lashes, and mesmerizing steely blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul. You can't quite make out the framed artwork through your muzzy vision, but it's eerie the way you can't quite pinpoint why the face was so recognizable to you.
Exposed wooden ceiling beams motion your eyes to the inherited items and the mounted deer skull above the hearth. The warmth emanating from it felt different, soothing, lulling your quivery limbs. You oblige and kick off your boots, padding behind him as he draws out his gun from his holster and places it on the mahogany table. He removes his cowboy hat, hanging it on the horseshoe hat rack adjacent to the fireplace revealing his tousled short black locks. As he begins to unmask himself, a small gasp leaves your lips, fixating on his newly exposed features. And he was goddamn handsome and unusually reminiscent of someone from your childhood embarked into the backlogs of your memory, but of course, you brush it off.
And although he hears it, he does not acknowledge it as one hand grips the wooden chair and the other runs over his dark stubble. He's pensive. The last thing he needed was some heretic woman living under his roof for Lord knows how long. At this point, he decides that you are his responsibility and he cannot shirk from that for that would be unbecoming of a man like himself and he was raised better than that.
He glances up at the painting of his father above the hearth and you take note of the reflective state. His daddy was the embodiment of a Cowboy. Gentlemanly, charming, nifty, and always genial, providing the best hospitality a person could provide. No way, he'd accept Keegan kicking you to the curb, leaving you out for those creatures to rip you apart. Plus, his father would simply rise from his grave and kick his ass.
"You hungry?" He pays no mind to your lingering, bewitched eyes as he moves to the kitchen and you like a lost puppy trailing behind him. "Got some leftover potato leek soup."
And as if on cue, your stomach growls and he glances at your hand over your tummy. You flush from the embarrassment of your stomach being that raucous. He cocks a brow at you and you can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. Probably both. "Go sit." He points his chin to the table by the fireplace and you pad back to the living room, the tempering sensation of the flames causes you to become drowsy. You loll your head to analyze his stature. His figure towers over all of the antique appliances in the kitchen, muscles flexing as he prepares to reheat the soup on the stove. Rolling up his sleeves to reveal his taut, tanned forearms to open the cabinet and pull out the loaf of handmade sourdough, slicing it evenly and efficiently before tossing it in the toaster.
His form becomes a bit hazy as you lay your head against the top rail of the chair, mesmerized by the allure of his broadened shoulders, and soft pink lips that all by hide the peeking tongue indicating his concentration in preparing you a homecooked meal. Keegan never has guests over, in fact, no one is ever daft enough to come running around this way anyways because locals know better and tourists are too scared shitless to even enter this part of the Appalachia. He likes it like that, away from everything and everyone, being able to maintain his family's ranch that was inherited by him at the ripening age of 18.
His mother moved out to the suburbs because the death of his father was far too devasting on her already weary soul to continue living her days out on the farm. But Keegan doesn't mind it. He handles the livestock with ease, providing care to the birthing cattle, and maintaining the operations of the facilities as a whole to keep his honest living thriving. It's all in a good day's work for him. So caring after you shouldn't be too much of a hassle right?
You're suddenly awoken to the soft clatter of the bowl being set on the wooden table, the savory aroma of potato leek soup, and freshly toasted sourdough bread. He sets a glass of water beside you before he pulls his seat adjacent to you with his food.
"Eat." He orders, waiting for you to take a spoonful of thick soup. You hesitantly lift the spoon before glancing up at him. He blinks back at you, realizing the weight of his indiscretion, and whisks the soup with his spoon before noshing on it as if to tell you that is not poisoned nor drugged. Your other hand takes the bread in between your fingers and he mirrors your actions, claiming a bite from his own and you visibly relax.
The soup is scalding to the touch, but you welcome the sensation when you get a taste of the heavenly whipped soup. Not a single lump, just the smoothest, most savory supping of such a simple hearty soup instantly heartening your disconcerting body right down to your unsteady hand.
"I'll fix your truck as soon as dawn breaks." He flashes a glance before breaking his bread and scooping it into his soup. "Make yourself comfortable in the guest bedroom." He gestures with his hand to the upstairs.
"Oh, I couldn't—" You begin to say, but he will have none of it.
"You're not going out there until the sun's out." He replies simply, as he lifts his glass of water and sips from it. You observe the way his Adam's apple oscillates under his stubbly throat and you swallow thickly when you realize he's gazing at you keenly.
Warmth spreads to your cheeks and your eyes are now following the pattern of the wood grain. "That's…very kind of you."
"'s just the human thing to do." And there is an emphasis on the word 'human'.
You begin to play with your soup, scooping it up and letting it fall back into the bowl. "Right." Your voice is soft as you try to block out the memory just moments ago.
He narrows his eyes as if to study you. "What's your name?"
You glance up at him, and you're almost a bit hesitant to tell him. You almost want to lie, but you decide otherwise. "[Name], and yours?"
"Keegan."
"Keegan what?" You press. He raises a brow at you as he chews on his bread.
"Russ."
Russ. An esteemed surname that was echoed throughout your household during your adolescence. Presley Russ was a handsome and genial man who appeared at your father's porch steps every so often, tipping his hat at you with that charming smile and those glacial hues that made your heart jump. He'd invite your daddy out for nights at the rodeo or sipping on Highland Gaelic Ales on the porch from the afternoon til midnight, biding his time between Maryland and North Carolina.
You never quite caught glimpses of his son when you were living out on the ranch before you moved out for college, but you did remember a time when you ventured out past sunset in the abandoned village in the Black Hills you knew better than to be in when your daddy had to travel to Wheaton for the grand opening of his old buddy, Presley's restaurant accompanied by his reclusive son who you never remembered the name of. But for God's sake, who was stupid enough to go treading alone around the same location as the filming of the Blair Witch Project?
But you were a skeptic at best until you heard the unrelenting repetition of your name being called which led you astray, causing you to stumble over your own feet and ultimately collide with a rock that rendered you unconscious. Soon enough, you felt yourself being carried back to your home in the arms of the Russ boy with the hardened steely gaze that intently stared down at the knot forming on your forehead. You had never shut your eyes so quickly and the sound of his soft chuckle, caused you to be even more embarrassed as you were being handed off to your worried parents who were more than relieved and thankful to have retrieved you.
Of course, you had to act like you were unconscious. It was already humiliating enough that you were old enough to know better, but being ferried by a cute boy like you were some helpless damsel in distress was just mortifying.
But that was long forgotten by you in hazy summer days during your teen years before you went off to college and moved out into the city. In reality, you had written it off as a dream, a hallucination concocted by that vivid and graphic imagination of yours. That was always the case with you and the Appalachia. Always the non-believer.
But part of you was hoping that maybe he didn't recognize you after all this time, and yet the way he is staring you down is beginning to feel like otherwise.
"Blair." He suddenly says matter-of-factly as he taps his finger at the table and nods again. "Blair." A small toothy grin creeps on his lips before he chuckles.
Your eyes reaming as your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"
"Black Hills, you're the daughter of the farmer right up in Garrett County."
You feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks. He knew. "I—How do you remember that?"
"Knew you looked familiar." He dives back into his steaming soup. "Was tryin' to figure out where I'd seen that necklace of yours." He juts his chin, pointing to the family heirloom that kisses your clavicle. It had been passed down for generations to the women in your family as a symbol of health, wisdom and longetivity. You feel for the 20k gold pendant with lilac and sage engraved into the soft metal.
He looks as if he's stifling another snicker. "Think you pissed yourself a little when I found you unconscious."
Now that gets you real flared up. The abrupt change in mood was beginning to wrack your nerves. You sigh knowing that at the very least you were in good hands. Familiarity begins to set in as he breaks the ice, creating a more comfortable atmosphere between you two.
"I did not!" You puff your cheeks out at him and he's tickled pink by your endearing, agitated reactions.
His gleeful grin only grows to his eyes. "Now, who willing goes into the woods by themselves when they know damn well what kind of activity breeds over there, hm? Gotta death wish if you ask me, kid."
You open your mouth to say something, but it clamps shut. You don't know whether to be abashed by the way his face lights up like the stars in the heavens above, or by the fact that he remembers that you pissed yourself a little through your favorite pair of khaki parachute shorts in a known marked area where people have gone missing. The stark realization of it being a tangible memory was mussing at your trepidation towards him. But he's teasing you now and it stirs a strange kind of desire in your lower belly as you uncomfortably shift in your creaky wooden seat.
Pushing your bowl away, you avoid responding by guzzling down your water and then calmly placing it back down.
"I'd like to get ready for bed now, if you don't mind."
He jovially raises his eyebrows as he munches on the last of his bread. The smirk still curled up on the corners of his pinkened lips.
He wipes the crumbs off his hands and thumbs either side of his mouth before he gets up, gesturing to you. " 'Course not."
You stand up and politely push your chair in as you track behind him up the croaking staircase. Your body is practically heaving with every step and by the top of it, you're feeling a bit winded. Keegan decides to keep his comments to himself as he ushers you down the grandiose hallway. The walls are painted ivory, and wall sconces are tapered candles on held-up aged tin nailed into the parapet. Hardwood floors are well kept, but the small divots in between the grain quickly reveal the age.
He jingles the knob to what you suppose is the guest bedroom, but it seems to be locked. His fingers fish into his pocket and you watch as he phalanges through the set and then finally picks out the antiquated rusty skeleton key. It's honestly a bit jarring that it requires a key to fasten the door, but at this point, if you're being kept away from the monsters lurking outside you'd be happy to be his little prisoner for now.
He pushes the door and it moans open, though much to your surprise it's polished and orderly. In the middle of the room is a wooden four-poster queen-sized bed, with a princess-like sheer white canopy that surreptitiously envelops the bed. The furniture is a bit more romantic with detailed carved patterns on the bookshelves that line up against the wall to the vanity that sat adjacent to the bed. The carmine curtains that drape over the large window, easily maneuver you to the balcony, and the soft calling of your name beckons you to open it…
A sturdy hand clasps over your shoulder and you jolt as you turn to him. He's shaking his head as he towers over you and you look so goddamn feeble with those damn bambi eyes of yours shimmering in the tiny sliver of moonlight that peeks out from the window. He tears his gaze away to tread over to the window, squeezing it shut with the velcro he sewed into the fabric and reinforces the window shut.
A sharp exhale leaves his nostrils and his eyes are on you again. "I totally can see why you ended up the way you did." He glimpses over your dirtied and frayed dress, skinned, bloodstained knees, and contusions running up and down your legs. God, he makes it so easy to feel self-conscious.
He licks his lips as he hovers his hand over the knob to his right, and signals you over. You begrudgingly stride over and you're just as impressed at the bathroom. From the massive mirror above the traditional wooden undermount double sink vanity to the wine-red clawfoot freestanding bathtub. Little golden trinkets pinstripe the rosy walls with the soft warm lighting of the hanging flowery ceiling light fixtures. You squint your eyes when he adjusts the radiance to a white glow with the dimmer light switch before he opens the drawers one by one.
"Towels, robes, spare clothes, toiletries. Gimme a shout if you need anything else."
You open your mouth to say something and his eyes playfully narrow at you. "—within reason, missy."
Your bottom lip reflexively juts out. You hate to admit it, but you were quite the spoiled child. Never receiving more than a gentle chide from your parents and always silver-spooned to the nines by your grandparents. The truck was an exception. More of a parting gift from your grandfather that was left to you for the sole purpose of memorabilia scored into every inch of the tarnished vehicle. You hope that Keegan is capable of fixing it since most parts were made by discontinued distributors and they were definitely not easy to come by as they were expensive.
"Christ, spoiled rotten, weren't ya?" He ribs, nudging you a bit and you frown at him.
"Was not." You childlessly retort, but the small smile on your face betrays your feeble attempt at contempt.
Fuck, she is so cute. Keegan thinks as he assimilates your hilly yet winsome appearance. Just as cute as he remembers when he was seventeen, ignorant of the malignancy that poisoned his father's lungs.
"Not as much as your daddy spoiled you." You shoot back and cover your mouth with your hands as his brows lift in half surprise and half revelry.
"Blair's got jokes now, huh?" The elicitive nickname indicative of your former years sends another rushing warmth to your face and you begin to shoo him out.
"I'd really like to be clean now, thank you." You cast a scowl his way and he's putting his hands up in surrender as he backs out of the bathroom followed by the bedroom.
"I take it that the lady needs her privacy now." He leans against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into his denim jean pockets that are dusty and darkened with wood ash and the smell of the campfire lingers on his skin.
"And her beauty sleep." You add on, folding your arms. His jacket is still resting over your shoulders and he chuckles at your Hello Kitty print socks. The way your hair was mussed up in the soft glow of the lantern lamp on the night table was starting to arouse him a bit.
Fuckkkkkk, you were so adorable. It might have taken every atom in his body not to bend you over the mattress and spank you for being such a dotty woman before pressing his cock past your velvety folds as he makes you apologize in the form of incoherent, dirty little whimpers.
But the thought is quickly dismissed as it's formed in the sullied cogitations of his mind.
"Good night, [name]." He murmurs in his husky voice yet there is a hint of mischief in his tone that sends a frisson up your spinal column.
"Good night, Keegan." You susurrate, as you slowly shut the door and his expression remains the same as your view of him narrows until it disappears behind the threshold.
"Christ." You mutter to yourself as you begin to get ready for bed, as you feel the rush of collywobbles in your stomach start to well up a craving for the cowboy. The time on your cracked phone screen reads 2:03 AM and a wave of exhaustion crashes over you at the realization. Had you really been out there for seven hours?
The warm water soothes your aching bones and forming scabs scattered across your body as you gently exfoliate your skin. Thankfully, Keegan had enough sense to drop off a first aid kit by your door before you slipped into the bath. You weren't looking forward to the sting of the antiseptic, but you were more than grateful to be alive and have all your limbs attached. As you close your eyes and let the sudsy bath take away your worries, a coaxing voice is entrancing you. At first, it begins as a hushed lull intermingled with what sounds like your name and a bit of white noise that makes your brain all fuzzy and warm, but it becomes audible. Forming coherent luring words that resemble Keegan's deep, raspy voice.
Drown, drown, drown.
And you promptly find yourself submerging into the tub and the stillness of the water is subduing, but something is instigating you to open your eyes. You push away the thought, taking in the tranquility, settling into the comforting sensation of weightlessness. And yet, the feeling is not leaving you. You internally sigh as you move your body to the surface, but you remain dormant. Your eyes shoot open and your blood runs cold.
Above is one of the most fear-inducing creatures that you have ever laid your eyes upon holding you down on either side of your shoulders with slender claws digging into your flesh. It resembles a caribou skull with elongated antlers but its eyes were a violent vermillion that penetrates your soul. Its body was dark, rickety, and harrowing. Bones astute against the matted onyx fur and its tongue hanging out of his jaw like it was ready to devour you. Panic surges through your veins as you thrash about but it drives its talons further into your skin and you shriek out in pain. Water enters your lungs, your heart is stammering at cardiac arrest speed and you're choking out for dear life. This is it. This is how you die and the worst part about it is, you couldn't even call out for hope from the man who saved you just moments ago.
But just as you're accepting your fate, the muffled sound of a gunshot pierces through the air and within seconds the skinwalker is incapacitated and then dead. Soon enough, you're being hoisted out by Keegan's strong hands, as you cling onto him naked, wet, and heaving for oxygen.
Water expels out from your esophagus and you're trembling even harder than you were before when he found you, grasping to him and he's immediately talking you down.
"It's alright, you're okay. You're okay." He soothes, one hand tenderly caressing your soddened hair and the other is gripping your body tight as he pulls you out of the tub. He wastes no time unplugging the drain and wrapping you in a large towel to cover your naked body. In all seriousness, Keegan didn't even take a second to gander at your naked form when he was gathering you out of the tub and he makes that clear that his sole objective was to eliminate the wendigo that trespassed into your sanctuary.
He could've sworn that he had locked up every single opening in the house as he does every single night. It was like clockwork to him ever since his father had shown him the ropes to the place.
"…Kee-keegan." You splutter out as you continue to clutch onto him and your body is saturating him with water. He doesn't care though, that was the least of his worries. Your eyes are reaming and glossy as you dare to peek down at the creature that was seconds away from letting you meet your maker, but there's nothing but ash on the tiled floor.
"It was—" You begin, peering up at his harking steely eyes and his jaw tightens.
"It's gone."
"I don't understand." You shake your head, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the soft clatter of the rifle hitting the bathroom counter delineates your scattered mind. "Oh. But—"
"Get dressed." He softly prompts and you shakily let go of his t-shirt and he hands you an eggshell-colored peignoir as he averts his gaze. He's cognizant of the post-distress and panic you're in, so makes no indication of reallocating himself away from you as you slip on the fabric nor does he provide an explanation for what just occurred.
And to be honest, you didn't want to know. There was nothing more disturbing than the encounter with death in the form of a mutated caribou that leaves you shaken up. Everything just seemed too difficult to wrap your little head around, so let him take care of you.
A fresh towel is on your head, soaking up the wetness tangled into your hair and you relax at his balmy touch.
"Thank you." You mutter as your eyes are cast downward, eyeing the imbued, darkened spots on his nightshirt.
He delicately hooks his index finger and thumb between your chin and lifts it upward as he dabs at your features with the towel. And then it lingers. His intense yet pensive gaze, his stout calloused thumb that is now brushing against your jaw shortly followed by your quivering bottom lip. His jaw ticks.
"I'll sleep in here tonight."
Your heart jumps rampantly against your chest. "What?"
"You almost died if it weren't for me."
"Yes, but it's not—!" You fall short of words yet again and you're tearing your gaze away from him. As dire as the situation was (and it was), Keegan cannot help himself from being just the tiniest bit entertained by your endearing little mannerisms.
"I'm not gonna sleep next to you in bed." He deadpans. Normally, he would let you stumble over your words, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and even as a noceur himself he was in desperate need of some z's. "The armchair over there quite comfy."
You follow his eyes to the brown leather recliner that was beside the bed and then back to him.
"I'm tired, Keegan." You profess, leaning your head against his chest and he's absentmindedly rubbing circles into the small of your back.
"I know."
Typically, you wouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger but given the unusual circumstances that were currently trying to slaughter your ass, you found yourself seeking solace in him.
"Let's get you into bed."
And soon he's leading you back to the bedroom, his hand is still on the small of your back as you walk on wobbly legs. He peels off the comforter and you sink into the mattress feeling like royalty in your crisp, clean nightgown, in your large princess-like bed, surrounded by plush pillows as the light in the lantern flickers. It casts shadows over his dashing features. The flame turns his glacial eyes into a soft apricot and an expression flickers over his visage—concern.
He's harping over your safety and the intruder that happened to bypass his heavily guarded home. No tripped wires, no movement detected on his cameras, and not to mention not a single sound was made until he heard your thrashing in his room across the hall. If he hadn't been there in time—
"You saved me, though." You drone, shutting your eyes as you tuck yourself into the cotton sheets.
His hardened glare softens at your words and how you look at ease now. A testament to your full, unshakeable faith in him. God, you were so quick to trust, it honestly scared him a little for you.
He scoffs. "How can you be so sure that I wouldn't hurt you?"
"Because your father would resurrect and beat the absolute shit out of you if you even dared to think about harming me." You state with a sly smirk on your face.
Keegan's expression briefly falters before he lets out a snicker, acknowledging the truth in your bold proclamation. "Crafty little critter, aren't ya?"
You giggle as shift under the sheets. It's almost a bit disturbing how you are seemingly fine and brushing off the situation. "Maybe."
He peers down at you for a moment and the welcoming feeling of your radiance starts to crawl into his chest. Almost like you were right where you needed to be, in his home, in his bed under his safeguarding. He wants nothing more than that. It's almost a bit perturbing how you are seemingly fine.
"Go to sleep." You mumble.
"You go to sleep."
"No, you first,"
"Who else is going to shield you against creatures of the night?"
You pause for a moment. "Good point."
He smiles as he walks over to the armchair, gun propped up against his left leg as he sits to face you. You're already curling up in a ball, and your chest rises and falls at a tranquil pace.
"Good night, Blair." He feels his eyes drooping as his vision becomes bleary.
You chuckle at the idiotic nickname. "Good night, Cowboy."
The remnants of tiny, foolish smiles are left on your faces as you drift off to sleep in your respective spaces. The last passing thought that crosses your mind is Keegan's tender gaze and his fingers brushing against your lips. Keegan wonders what is making you so giddy before the world around him fades out.
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As morning breaks, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. The spring breeze wafts into the wisps of your hair and your eyes flutter open. The seat in front of you is now empty and the balcony door is wide open, and yet you're calm as you rise out of bed. Birds are chirping and the incessant droning of cicadas buzzing loudly against your eardrums is merely white noise when you recognize the low rumble of your truck's engine pulling up. There is an urgency that surges within you and soon you're sprinting out the door, and the heat of the cobblestone stings at the soles of your feet but you don't care.
The engine cuts and Keegan climbs out of the truck, sleeves rolled up in his army green henley, and he's wearing a clean pair of relaxed, light-wash jeans that skim the leather of his Tecovas. He peers up at you with wintry hues, tipping his hat, and in that instant, you're transported back to your childhood—Mr. Russ, tipping his hat with those same eyes and that glorious smile that always made your heart race.
The resemblance was both striking and uncanny, but damn, you were totally not complaining.
"Mornin', little lady. You're up quite early." He puts his hands on his hips and he's no longer the stone-faced, vendetta-filled Cowboy that you met last night. He's your friendly Appalachian Cowboy who provides you the sweet, sweet southern hospitality with a charming smile and a bit of a North Carolinian twang that sets your groins on fire.
"Mornin', Cowboy. Fixed my truck, did you?" You lean against the French iron wrought railing with your ruffled hair and white nightgown, rippling in the slight draft that carries the healing scent of sage and lavender. The fabric forms around your body and Keegan notices how it traces the outline of your curves and how the sun is hitting you just perfect enough for you to look like a literal angel.
But it's still the unrelenting, disconcerting feeling that creeps up on him when he looks up at you so unbothered, airheaded with that buoyant grin on your face. Was it really just a facade?
"Fixed it good enough for you to get back on your way." He turns from you to the truck and then back to you. "By the way, where were you headed?"
"Back to the old man." You cross your leg over the other, waiting for his response. He watches as the skin of your legs peeks out from under the peignoir and it's a bit enticing.
"I didn't contact him if that's what you're askin'" His hand acts like a sun visor to block the light out of his sensitive eyes to take a good gander at you.
"I would hope not. Don't need to send him into cardiac arrest." You joke and you see his shoulders shaking a bit, suggesting a chuckle.
"Made you breakfast."
"Yeah?" You simper, leaning a little more against the railing.
He can't help the way his grin broadens as he peers up at your flirty form. "Careful now, can't have you comin' back home with a broken neck, can we?"
Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.
Goddamn him and his pretty face. He's already heading inside as you're locking in on him, but Keegan isn't one to give you the satisfaction. He'll play the long game and he'll enjoy every minute of it. From the way you're sitting next to him at the table with your dress bunched up to your thighs to the way you sensually lick your spoon covered with cream and he's internally chuckling at the mess you've made on the corners of your lips, feigning gullibility to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, it's hot. He wants nothing more than to lick your fingers clean and sloppily kiss your sweet cream-laden lips.
Mmmm.
He doesn't say anything. Just enjoys his breakfast and keeps his gaze lowered like a gentleman. The company of a beautiful woman is enough for him on a fine Sunday morning like this.
You can only wonder what he's thinking as you act like a giddy schoolgirl who's trying to get the attention of her professor. Not that you had a significant age gap with Keegan, but in his original line of work there was a massive lapse. Being a retired Marine had probably mentally aged him over give or take 10 years would have been your best guess. And leaving the farm to his cousins in his absence probably impacted him even more, well, according to your gossip girl of a father at least.
He made trips down to NC every so often to check on his favorite, reclusive cowboy, sometimes tending to his facilities when need be. You never tagged along though. In your mind, you were a city girl who didn't mind dressing up as a cowgirl if she saw fit. So coming down from your city job, in the comfort of your sweet loft that overlooked the NOVA skyline didn't exactly make you miss the Appalachia trails.
Still, it is nice being back here with a somewhat familiar stranger in a home you had only seen the outside of because, for the majority of your life, you had so desperately tried to force out the rural in you. Call it toxic, but leaving the mountains always felt like the haze had lifted from your brain. It was unsettling to be here for too long.
"You're nervous."
You glance up from the runny eggs that you have been working on for the past twenty minutes. You give him a sheepish grin. "This place makes me nervous."
"Itching to go back to the city, huh?"
That elicits a small chuckle from you. "And what do you know about me?"
"Well, according to your father," He says in a knowing tone and you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a coy smile. "you love the city too much to move back."
"I don't think I'm too good for it. Here, I mean."
"Didn't say that. The Appalachia isn't for everyone." He butters his toast and then munches on it and soon it vanishes into his mouth. The night before is washed away from your memory, but Keegan loses track of his thoughts as he stares at the leftover jagged lines embedded into your skin from a creature that he knew you wanted to forget. A glance at his watch and he's up, wiping his hands and mouth with the serviette that was on his lap before he places it on the table. "You ready?"
"You got somewhere to be?" You raise your brows, not quite ready to leave yet.
"Matter o'fact I gotta date with an employee from Tractor Supply Co in about an hour, and it's thirty minutes out."
"New livestock?" You sip at your coffee.
A sad smile graces his lips. "Yeah, my last eldest cattle just passed away a few weeks ago."
You frown. "I'm sorry."
For a moment you swear you saw him get teary-eyed, but he quickly shakes himself out of the grief, grabbing his keys as he downs his glass of ice water. He stops himself for a moment as you get up to push your chair in and he can't help himself from tracing his fingers over the claw marks on either side of your shoulders. You shudder from the remembrance and his touch.
"[name]," He starts to express but your mood sours.
"Stop."
His expression falters and so does his hand as he lets it drop to his side. You didn't want to remember any of it. He notices how you clutch onto your necklace and he drops the subject.
"Your trucks waiting." He takes your hand and deposits the keys into your palm.
You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you."
You begin to approach your truck and you feel relief washing over you as you run your hand over the tarnished, rusted hood of the Dodge before you open the driver door. As you climb in you notice that all your belongings remain untouched. Scattered cassette tapes, polaroids, and the little Hawaiian girl that swayed with every movement still plastered onto the dash. The leather seats seem to have abrasions, revealing the cushion beneath, but you write it off as a bear maybe deciding to try and access your vehicle after you had abandoned it.
"…[name], ….[name]….!"
You're snapped out of your stupor, recollecting your thoughts as you glance over at him leaning his body against your truck. "I checked the vehicle, it's all clear for you to go. Should make it back alright."
"Why wouldn't it be if you fixed the engine?"
The look you give him is blank, free from concern and any worry that may have been left on your face from last night.
He nods, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. "Right, well, it was nice seeing you all grown up."
That provokes a reaction. Heat is rising to your cheeks and Keegan is standing there looking cool as ever as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow before putting it back on.
"Thank you." You say with more feeling, only your eyes acknowledging the horrors of last night. And that's enough for Keegan.
"You take care now." He tips his hat with a good-natured grin and you snicker at his little cowboy bit.
He waves to you as you back out of his driveway and you glance over from your rearview mirror as his towering figure disappears and so does any anamnesis from the evening prior. Or at least, you told yourself that.
And that was April. Months have gone by and Keegan doesn't exactly expect you to keep in contact. He's even surprised to hear a, '[name], says hello, by the way.' from your father during their weekly check-in.
And he definitely does not expect to see your truck in his driveway when he's coming back from milking his cows for the day with his new set of eyes that's in dog form, wagging her tail in anticipation as she sits.
"German Shepherd, eh? Suits you." You simper at him, leaning against the pillar of his home with glossy lips, and a cutesy red paisley swing dress that just barely covers your thighs. Your boots are hardly broken in as they dig into the grassy field and your hair is a little disheveled in an endearing way.
"Name's Miley." He peels off his gloves, shoving them into his back pocket. He's completely taken aback by your sudden presence, though he's not one to complain about a pretty lady showing up at his door.
"Hey, Miley." You coo, holding your hand to her and she's immediately reciprocating your energy tenfold as she jumps up and down, causing you to giggle and pet her soft fur.
Keegan doesn't even need to say anything as he glances down at the German Shepherd and she's already sitting on the ground between you two.
"Miss me?" You ask, coyly.
"Could ask you the same thing, Blair." He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you suspiciously. Something was off.
"I was just in town."
"Uh huh."
It doesn't take long before the act drops and distress is carving into your features. Lips are trembling in fear as your eyes begin to water.
"Something's been following me, Keegan." Your body naturally falls against his chest and his breath hitches a bit at your contact and the smell of your perfume wafts into his senses.
Fuck.
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mini taglist: @keegansshark @soapsgf @milkteaarttime
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