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#but ive only found a couple over the past year

norrizzandpia · 8 months

Text

The Softest Launch (LN4)

Summary: He tried to be secret, but the eyes never lie.

Warnings: NOTHINGGGG language tho

Note: it was lance’s launch that sent me into this spiral

landonorris it was a good race ❤️

Comments:

mclarenfan22 YO WHO TF IS HE LOOKIN AT

- oscarandlando4ever carlos?

- mclarenfan22 idk abt that one girl

Lando-my-love i refuse to believe he has a girlfriend

- ln4andop81 the red heart is saying something else

oscarpiastri congrats on the podium man!

- mclarennnn what do you know.

- mclarensgirl oscar. spill it.

——

landonorris fun day on the karting track! 🏎️

Comments:

ln4andop81 MAX IS IN ITALY WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND AND OSCAR IS OFF DOING PR IN LONDON WHO TF IS THIS.

- oscarandlando4ever we cant even fall back on carlos bc he is with charles at ferrari hq in italy as well

- Lando-my-love guys… i fear this is a soft launch

- mclarenfan22 DONT SAY THAT.

oscarpiastri tell her i said hi!

- mclarensgirlll HER????? PASTRY TELL US WHATS GOING ON

- landonorris will do!!

- mclarennn if this is his soft launch, i. will. cry.

——

lando.jpg she’s learning 💋

Comments:

mclarennn WHO?????

ln4andop81 I CANT TAKE THIS ANYMORE

danielricciardo i still can’t believe you let her handle your camera

- landonorris ive given her other things that are delicate too

- danielricciardo shes made you a ball of mush

- landonorris a ball of love

- mclarensgirlll i have never been speechless before until rn

- mclarenfan22 GIVEN HER OTHER THINGS THAT ARE DELICATE TOO???? AS IN HIS HEART???? IM SLEEPING ON THE HIGHWAY ALREADY AND HE HASNT EVEN OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCED IT YET 😭😭😭

oscarandlando4ever hes soft launching her so well and so gently i cant im crying you can tell this one is different i think hes in love guys

Liked by landonorris

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maxverstappen 📸 creds -> lando’s “friend”

Comments:

landonorris i said say friend not “friend” ‼️

- mclarensgirlll BYE MAX IS TRYING TO HELP US OUT

- maxverstappen i think the soft launch is over mate

- ln4andop81 PLZ LET IT BE OMFG MY BRAIN CANT HANDLE IT ANYMORE

kellypicquet and lando said she was bad at taking pics 💀

- ynnnn idek where he got that from i literally have taken his insta pics for years

- Lando-my-love WHO IS ynnnn IS THAT HER???

- mclarenfan22 her account is priv but I THINK IT IS ALSO YEARS???? SHES BEEN TAKING HIS PICS FOR YEARS????

- oscarandlando4ever BRUH IF WE MISSED THIS RELATIONSHIP THIS WHOLE TIME IM THROWING MYSELF IN A WALL

——

landonorris I’m going to try and keep this as brief as possible because Y/n is incredibly special to me and I would like to keep the best parts of her to myself, but, yes, I do have a girlfriend. As you can probably gather, her name is Y/n and she’s been my lifeline for the past 5 years. I know this picture doesn’t really do justice to how she looks or how we are as a couple, but I’ve found that I would like to keep it that way. She’s someone I hold very close to my heart and keeping the quiet, intimate moments just for us is a high priority for me. All I ask from all of you is that you treat her with the kindness she deserves and don’t bombard her on social media. I’ve kept her away from the spotlight for a long time and have only made her presence known because keeping her a secret seemed worse than letting the F1 world into that part of my life. I’m glad you’ve gotten to meet my love. I plan on spending the rest of my life with her. Xx

Comments have been disabled on this post.

——

TWITTER

mclarensgirlll YALL SEEN THE INTERVIEW WITH LANDO????????? BRO IM CRYING HES SO CUTE

- ln4andop81 reporter: “were you nervous to let everyone know about her?” Lando: “well, the drivers, my friends, and family all knew i had met someone because apparently, according to them, i had a different look in my eyes. So, announcing it to them wasnt that nerve racking because they already knew, but, to the public, yeah, I was nervous. More nervous than she was.” Reporter: “so she was nervous?” Lando: “only because she thought no one was going to like her which is and was absurd. She’s the greatest human being I’ve ever met. There’s genuinely no scenario I could think of that someone would end up even slightly disliking her.” BRO.

- Lando-my-love AND THE WAY HE TALKED ABT FIRST SEEING HER 😫😫 “it was like my eyes were glued to her. I guess i was just so in shock someone could be that beautiful and, sometimes, i still am.”

- mclarenfan22 DONT GET ME STARTED ON HIS PROTECTION OF HER BYE “well, she’s just so perfect to me. The world I live in can be ruthless and unfair and messy, all the things she isn’t. I love her that way. I love her for that. She’s my quiet place I can go to when my job and lifestyle get to be too much. She’s like a time out and we both agreed we want to keep it that way.”

- oscarandlando4ever PLZ THE WAY OSCAR EXPOSED HIM TOO “when she’s around, Lando is so much more tolerable. She can calm him in a way I have never seen before. In fact, the engineers and I all agreed around a year ago that she needed to start coming to races because he was always a hot head if it didn’t go well. When we found a way to sneak her in and she did start attending events, he actually started to breathe if things didn’t go his way.”

- mclarensgirlll AND THEN THE WAY LANDO ENDED THE INTERVIEW WITH “But anyways, i could talk about her for hours, something i told myself i wouldn’t do. I’m in love with her and I just hope people understand we want to be left alone for a while. Just until we get married.” CRYING BC I THINK HES RLLY OFF THE MARKET THIS TIME

- oscarpiastri i know all of you want me to “spill” but really all i can tell you is that, yes, norizz officially rizzed his perfect girl and, yes, he is really off the market this time.

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 6 months

Note

K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????

And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every

This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many

I think I have followed you. Let's see!

So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.

Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.

He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.

Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.

But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"

That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."

"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"

Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."

That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."

"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."

Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.

It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.

How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.

He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.

But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.

Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.

Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.

Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.

"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."

You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."

"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.

Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.

When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."

"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.

Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"

He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.

You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."

Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?

"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."

"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.

"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."

That-what?

Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"

"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."

You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."

It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"

"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."

"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.

Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.

He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?

Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.

It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.

Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.

But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.

That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.

But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.

"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.

"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."

You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."

Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.

But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."

You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"

"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."

"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."

Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"

You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.

You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."

That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"

With me?

He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."

"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."

The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."

"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.

He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.

He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.

With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #asks #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #spoilers #pregnancy mention #should i do a part 2 of this?#dhampir baby part two?#fun fact im actually so scared of pregnancy it sounds like hell to me #so pregnancy/child fics are very interesting to write #personally #i'm getting through these asks slowly but surely #nine more to go!

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iznsfw · 1 year

Text

The Rabbit

IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader Smut

9,623 words

Categories | maid!Wonyoung, if you could get the movie this is based off of you're awesome, blowjob, anal

Yep, I finally wrote Wonyoung. Who knew, right?

Maybe you'll meet your end today. Tomorrow, if you're lucky. Either way, they'd find out. That's definitely certain; mandatory love is no winning game. Love in general isn't, especially when it's founded on merely scrawny and lustful sex. The lines between lust and love blur, and it becomes more dangerous than it actually is.

And one could say that it really isn't love (you've heard that a couple more times than you'd like) when you barely know anything about her, when your mind only dances with the thought of ruining her angelic self again, but they know you'd never listen. You refuse to.

So, where did all this—a young, gorgeous woman by the name of Jang Wonyoung in the crook of your arm, her hand on your cock and glossy lips on yours—start?

Well, to understand, you have to stay in the present and reminisce about the past, just one more time. You've to live in it as if the former days were the current ones and what's now is nothing to worry about. But you shouldn't dwell too long; the world out there is no land for lonely men.

1. HOP

Your nerves and fears merge and struggle as one as you line up to the counter. They've plenty of reasons to do that sickly collaboration that makes your stomach hurt, but you find solace with the fact that it's at least a nice hotel. The soft yellow paint on the wall makes a lovely pair with the yellow one smeared on the outlines. The rooms are all well-furnished, and the frames bear replicates of several famous abstract masterpieces. In general, the hotel possesses a grand and pretty aesthetic, and you would have rated the stay five stars out of five if you weren't hoarded out of your home and in here.

Everyone dresses nicely, too. The older woman in the line next to yours wears a blazer and a high fashion tube top under it, her main color all over being pink. On the other hand, the man in front of you dons a formal black suit. It's like there was a recurring oath all around to dress grandly that they left you out of. How rude of them.

Suddenly self-conscious, you smooth down your simple shirt and jeans. You're already making an exception for yourself from the expensive dress code; the obligation to look clean should at least be followed. There shouldn't be any crinkled lines riding the fabric of your shirt, or a single speck of dirt on your cheap shoes.

"Next," says the woman at the counter briskly.

You make your way forward. Said woman is dressed in mandatory, dead-looking uniform and has no sign of a smile on her emotionless face. She doesn't want to be here more than you do. She makes that clear as she flashes you a tired look.

"Name?"

You tell her your name, switching your weight from one foot to another.

"Age?"

"Twenty-one years old."

"Sexual preference?"

"W-what?" you ask. It bears repetition; you have no idea why the woman would ask that.

She—(you should start calling her "Kim Gaeul" now; you've read the name on her breast pocket tag)—sighs, not caring to hide her frustration. "You know why you're here, don't you?" she asks.

Her tone suggests that you should know. However, no idea comes to mind. If they ever informed you of your purpose here, the message got lost in translation in the stress of packing your belongings and traveling all the way to this hotel. It's a decent upgrade from your humble little house, but it can’t mimic the safety of the place you grew up in. You're basically being held hostage here—this place will never be home.

"I don't," you admit guiltily.

"Well, if it's not obvious, you're a twenty-one-year-old heterosexual—I assume—man, and you still haven't found a partner."

Gaeul says it in this unnecessarily audible voice that makes you flush red to your ears. Everyone is going through the same, hence their presence in this very hotel, but when it's uttered out loud, it's like rubbing salt over an already throbbing wound.

Your face feels hot with humiliation. "Yes? And?"

"This doesn't go well with your purpose of being fruitful and multiplying," continues Gaeul. To quote the Bible in these times is… well, something, but you’ll let her have this one. "Here, you'll be able to find your lifetime partner—"

You're confused. "And how does being here help with bagging a girl?"

"—and spend two weeks together to prove your bond to us." Gaeul glares at you, clearly annoyed that you've interrupted her. For that, and out of pure, unyielded spite, she dodges your question expertly. "You're given forty-five days, and, if by the end, you're unable to find someone who shares the same qualities slash traits with you, you're turned into an animal."

Well, you did not expect that one coming.

(But, if your memory serves you well, the cop in the van that took you to this place said, as he brushed down his gray uniform: "They skin you alive to make you a little critter, that's what they do—it's heinous. Happened to an old friend of mine. Miss him more than ever."

"Did you see it happen?" you asked, his words stealing your attention from the lands running to keep up with the vehicle.

"Was told about it," answered the cop. "He said he wanted to be a dog. They took out his organs and gave all the blood to the hospitals. Dunno what happened to those, but they probably went down the same route. Wonder what kid out there got his lungs now, heh."

"Well, did it work? Did he become what he wanted?"

"No idea. All I can say is after that, dogs kept following me around.")

"You know," you say, leaning forward on the counter with your arms crossed, in hopes of appearing more in control of the whole thing than you actually are, "it takes more than forty-five days to find a wife, Gaeul. It takes years."

"Oh, really?" Gaeul gives you a condescending look one would give to a rambling, precocious toddler. "Didn't know that."

"Hey, I'm not doing this. I'm out."

"Suppose you're a Loner, then?"

"I've heard that one before."

She sighs. "A Loner doesn't believe in what we do here," she explains tiredly. "They don't believe in love."

"Sounds like me."

"If one wishes to extend their forty-five-day period in finding a partner," adds Gaeul helpfully, her statement definitely not a thinly veiled threat, "they're required to kill a Loner."

You're stunned by how everything works. Just forty-five days to get a wife? Those who don't want to comply with the system being hunted down as a consequence? What has this world come to?

You look back in line. There are numerous other men and women waiting for their turn, and you're wasting their time and Gaeul's. Not that you care much for her since she's been rude to you since the beginning, but she does look like the kind of person able to make someone disappear off the face of the Earth if they don't fit in. What if you don't match her criteria either? What would she have the people in charge do to you? What if the animal thing was a lie and they actually just killed you off?

It's either death, becoming an animal, or having someone to hold.

You haven't had the third one in a long, long time.

You inhale, hold that breath, and exhale slowly. Straighten your shoulders. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Alright. Sexual preference?"

"Heterosexual." You think.

"If, in any circumstance, you are unable to find a partner, what animal would you like to become?"

A beat.

"A rabbit," you say thoughtfully. "I think I'd want to become a rabbit."

2. DOWN

"A rabbit? Really? Out of every animal out there?"

A small Japanese woman from behind you in line keeps you entertained now in the waiting room. She has short, auburn hair and a cute smile. Her cheeks remind you of dumplings. Speaking of, you can smell some of them cooking in the kitchen nearby. You can hear your stomach rumble.

"It just… feels right, you know?" you say, shrugging in your seat beside her, in which she's strangely pressed up closely to you.

You haven't really given the animal thing much thought. You know that there's an underlying reason for it, but you can't really ponder exactly what. Perhaps it's a favorite animal from childhood? Nope, couldn't be it—your favorite animal back then was a lobster. And you can't even recall the reason for that.

"A rabbit… carrots…” You give up. “No idea.”

The woman nods understandingly. Her fingers guitar a rhythm on her knees. "Aren't you gonna ask what I'd like to be?" she says expectantly.

Alright, sure; you'll play her game. You've nothing else to do, anyway; you're just waiting for your room number to be announced. It might take a while, too, with the number of people waiting before you. The richer ones obviously get more privileges as well.

"What animal would you want to be?" you ask the girl.

"A butterfly. Be nice to just fly around and be pretty, don't you think?"

"A butterfly’s an insect, no?"

"Insects are also animals."

Desperate to keep the conversation going to fill the eerie silence, which makes you grow more and more uneasy, you prompt more lines from her. "Are they?"

She twitches her mouth to one side with a thoughtful look. "I'd like to think so."

You're given only forty-five days to find the one, you remind yourself. You have to constantly give yourself reminders lest you forget about your new life here in the hotel. Here's your chance.

"What's your name?" you ask her.

"Rei."

A cute name for a cute girl—nice. Rei's adorable from head to toe. Even the clothes she wears are sweet. Her plump cheeks allude to that, too. "Well, Rei, you want to team up?"

Rei scoffs, suddenly moving away from you. Her face, which you once saw as adorable, suddenly looks scary. "Is that what you think of all this? A defense-offense field game?"

"Uh, no, I meant that it’s—"

"No, save it. I want to actually find love here, you bastard. Love isn't a game you can just play anytime."

Yeah, of course it isn't; love is a fucking requirement. Does Rei really think she'll find true love in a world like this? You pity her Snow White enthusiasm for true romance, for a prince who’d sweep her off her feet without the feeling of obligation, but maybe she really wants to be a butterfly. You're not gonna stop her from what her heart desires; you're far from that kind of guy.

At least, you hope so. God, are you becoming one of those men?

Rei's obviously upset. From the pure shock in her face, it's clear she saw something in you that was quickly made meaningless by your mindset. She rises from the sofa, fuming, and walks away. She says in heated breaths that she needs some fresh air.

You watch your chance disappear just like that and smile tightly. Oh well.

"Tough, ain't it?" remarks the man from the loveseat across the room. He's a lot older, and he looks like he'd be the best grandfather. He'd probably let his grandkids stay awake past bedtime and give them candy. Why is he here? Maybe he recently broke up with Grandma? "Finding a girl?"

"Don't I know it," you sigh.

He smiles sympathetically. "It's better than being a rabbit," he says.

"I'd take a rabbit over a no-jerking-off policy."

That's how it works here: real life torture, in an unusual way, since they're depriving you of self-pleasure. They don't believe that masturbating would help find a girl. Gaeul told you earlier that if you were caught doing so—(and they will; they have CCTVs in the damned rooms, which definitely breaks more than a few laws about privacy and the like)—there would be severe punishments.

You truly don't want to know what punishment awaits your refusal to obey.

The man chuckles. "At least you get a lap dance. That's better than yankin'."

"A lap dance?" you ask. Gaeul didn't mention that.

"Every night, a maid comes over and gives ya a good grind down the groin. You don't actually get to touch her or do the thing, if you catch my drift,” he winks, “but it helps with mating. Wouldn't want someone who can't get it up at night, amirite, mate?"

"Suppose not."

The man sees the sparkle in your eyes. His laugh evolves from a soft, olden chuckle to a full-on guffaw. "See? There's pros in this place, too, getting a pretty girl on top of you every night."

"Can't the maid be my wife instead?" you joke. That would make the flow of things here a whole lot easier, if that were true.

He shakes his head. "Nah, some say they're part of the Loners. Wouldn't want to mess with them."

The Loners… you've heard about them during your drive here. You saw them lurking in the woods, guns cocked, with eyes flashing demonic looks at every passerby. While the cop told you not to make eye contact with them, Gaeul informed you about their beliefs earlier during your heated exchange: love shouldn't be mandatory. And you agree, but getting hunted down by desperate rich people isn't at the very top of your bucket list.

You're a coward, but you like to think it's just you playing safe. One wrong move can land you in a place where your eyes would never behold the light of day again, where life holds no meaning unless a carrot is present.

"You're lying about the lap dance thing, aren't you?" you say finally. The world is fucked up, but it can't be that bad, right?

He grins. "See for yourself, and don't say I didn't warn you."

If there's anything good in this hotel besides the air-conditioning and paintings, it's the food. The platters served on the white-drapes tables make you feel more well-off than you actually are. There's fish skillets, sushi, gravy, and mashed potatoes. Spoons and knives of varying sizes and utilities sit on the opposite sides of every plate.

"Guess I like this place now," you joke to a woman beside you. She giggles back politely, but doesn't respond; her mouth is stuffed with crispy chicken skin.

You eat to your heart's content. Pour gravy all over the hills of mashed potatoes. Scoop up unlimited rice and pair it with the soup. You wonder what kind of cooks they hired to produce these delicacies. Was there a certain secret degree that had to be obtained to be accepted here? A secret recipe worth signing an NDA for?

"Good, isn't it?" asks the young gentleman across from you. It's clear he's used to grand dining; he's dainty with his chewing, and knows on which occasion a specific utensil should be used. However, his eyes are kind—there's no judgment in them as he watches you wolf down your food.

"Definitely." Letting go of table etiquette, you speak with half your mouth full. Glance down at his plate. "Do you usually eat that little?"

"Not really," he responds. "Just keeping room for dessert."

"There's dessert?"

As if on cue, chocolate cake and more chicken wings are placed on the table. You take one of the chicken wings and eat it with rice, classic Filipino style.

(Speaking of, you really, really miss Jollibee.)

Should you go for the cake, too?

You glance at the cake, then at your growing belly. Fuck it. You slice a generous part of the cake onto your golden plate. The frilling of the dessert is made of flowery cream. The bakers decorated the top of it with coffee-flavored candy, which you fork into your mouth gladly. Your stomach and heart feel full, but you just keep eating. It’s rare to come across food this delicious, and you’re not going to waste it. It’s all or nothing.

"Let's take half and half for this bad boy," the gentleman gestures to the cake with a pinky, "and leave nothing for the rest of these fuckers. How's that sound?"

"What the hell, I'm in."

As promised, he slices the dessert smoothly with a serving knife and places a good amount for you, and another one for him. You're gluttons, you two, but it's exactly that which made you like each other.

You become quite uneasy when you see staff looking at you strangely. Their eyes are squinted, and they’re murmuring among themselves, pointing in your direction. You try to look away, but they’re approaching already. There’s nowhere else to run.

"Sir, you might want to come with us."

You look up, ready to bear whatever they're planning to do to you. But then you realize they’re talking to your new friend, who looks nervous. The look in his eyes matches the one you’d see in an animal caught in a bear trap. He follows them anyway to the backrooms; the staff look pretty serious, and they don't look like they'd back up.

You've no idea what happened after, but you hear the words "masturbation" and "disobeyed," watch a few heads turn out of curiosity, and smell the horrid scent of burning skin.

You also hear screaming.

Safe to say that no one used the toaster after that.

You enter the chambers of your room with a fulfilled stomach. There's just a tiny amount of alcohol in your system, enough to keep your nerves at bay, and maybe a few mashed potatoes. You make sure to brush all that off in the tiled bathroom, using the small tube of hotel toothpaste and the children's toothbrush they provided for you. Drain it all down with mouthwash and leave your mouth feeling minty.

You thought the bedroom would be as grand as the rest of the place. To your surprise, its design and furniture look like ones you'd see at a gas station motel, nothing more. There's no expensive comforter to slip under, or a tiger's carpet to rest your feet on. It's all just… normal.

Maybe you'd like it that way. One day, it'll feel like home. You're not entirely sure about it, but you're hoping it'll happen.

You're just watching TV on the vintage television they set up on a small table (it’s a pretty old movie called Psycho) when a knock sounds on your door. Wondering who it might be, coming over at this hour, you open it.

"Good evening, sir."

A girl with braided hair twisted by dark bows in a stereotypical and an obviously fetish maid outfit stands timidly outside of your room. In spite of your tiredness, it still astounds you how she looks like an expensive, vintage porcelain doll brought to life. Her skin is as pale as the frilly, ribboned fabric forming the top of her black dress and the gloves that wrap her thin arms like a present. Her hands are curled behind her back, but they hide nothing, not even her nervousness.

"I'm sorry," you say. She's pretty, and you would have done her, but you don't know what the hell she's doing here. "I didn't ask for room service."

"It's not room service," she says. She's tall for a girl, only a little shorter than you, but you forget it with how often she hangs her head. "I'm, I'm here to give you the… you know…"

"Huh?"

"The grinding thing?" the girl goes on. Her fingertips tap against each other. Her eyes meet everything but yours. "The lap dance?"

Oh, now you remember. Your mind let go of the idea, having trained its focus on the food you consumed, but now, you can't stop thinking about what this girl is going to do. And here you thought it was just a joke to get you going.

You take a proper look at her. She's really beautiful. That face and body of hers, visually striking and slim in all the right spots, doesn't belong in a maid's uniform, now that you look closer. She should be a model, strutting down the catwalk with confidence in every one of her strides. She should be out there walking for fashion weeks and shows, not grinding on random strangers varying from old and young.

(However, in all unfiltered honesty, you certainly wouldn't mind her rubbing her thighs and ass on you, or holding those braids as you plow her—)

"Who are you?"

"I'm the maid," she replies. She bites her lip, getting even more anxious about what's to come, but it just looks undeniably sexy to you, even if its effect on you is wholly unintended.

Nodding: "Yeah, I know that. But what's your name?"

"W-Wonyoung…"

"Well, Wonyoung, do you want to do this? It's completely fine if you don't."

It's probably her first time hearing this because her blush is intense. She can't recall the last time anybody asked if she actually consented to her job. "I don't mind," she says honestly. She crosses her arms together and looks down. "I think I kinda like it."

You smile widely. "You do, huh?"

"Yes, but I'm a little nervous. I… I've never done stuff like this before."

Her voice is small and sweet. Pair that up with her angelic face and the outfit, then it equates to her looking like the perfect fuckdoll. You can imagine a million different scenarios with her if the world were kinder: having her as your pretty little sugar baby, with Wonyoung always following you like a tail and calling you daddy. Perhaps as a young wife, too, who'd welcome you home in ways that stray from a simple breakfast or kiss. Oh, you lament those lost universes.

But for now, you can have her pretty ass on your crotch.

"Come show me what you came for," you say.

"I—" Wonyoung shakes her head. She has to get a hold of herself. "Sorry, I'm just scared."

"Don't worry, I'll help you out."

Your lower body descends on the bed. And after, so does her tight, round ass on your center.

Your hands hold on to her tiny waist and guide her in her routine. She's on your lap, and you're in heaven.

The skirt, created and woven by the wealthy seamstresses in the hotel, is mesmerizing, but it's the natural way of her butt grinding left and right on your crotch that catches you whole, as if she were born with the ability to make the simple, subtle action of nuzzling her rear end on your cock feel like every good thing in the world. In that moment, you have strong faith that a million dollars or a good life can't compare to Wonyoung's ass.

The doubled pleasure from her thin safety shorts and her round butt causes you to let out a deep, guttural moan: "Fuck, Wony."

"Wony?" she asks, looking back at you with glassy eyes that still hold impossibly delicate innocence in them. Oh, how much you want to see the corruption's lust bloom in her irises.

"Sorry." You throw your hands in the air with a soft, broken laugh. "Just slipped out of me, dunno why."

"No, it's fine," says Wonyoung. She winks. "I like it."

Temptation taunts you in the form of the young girl's skirted ass. You wonder if she's lying about being a neophyte to this; she's a natural talent. She takes care to press her butt hard against your rising erection, and pleasure its covered tip by grinding on it with a rapid rhythm. Your cockhead starts to feel hot and tight, and you can tell she's aroused as much as you are; her safety shorts are attractively damp.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes." You hold on to her dancing hips that grind on your growing erection, guiding her movements to what feels good for you. "Mmm, fuck, faster."

"I can't, I'm sorry..."

Wonyoung halts and rises from your lap. It's a terrible decision to make; it leaves you with unfulfilled desire and her with shaky, buckling legs. She bows apologetically. "I—I'm not supposed to do anything other than that, sir," she explains. "I have to go now. I'm sorry."

You can't believe you were teased like that. And you can't even masturbate to get down from the path to your high. You've seen what they did to the man who was caught touching himself, and you aren't keen on having your hand shoved inside a burning hot toaster.

"Wonyoung, please—"

She exits the room, head bowed and cheeks flushed. You're sitting like a rejected schoolboy on the bed, with blue balls and a throbbing erection, and you couldn't be more disappointed.

The next day arrives faster than you expected, and you still can’t stop thinking about her. Well, there wasn't a minute in the nighttime you spent without thinking of Wonyoung. Although your eyes ought to be on the pretty girls aplenty who’re looking for a man like you—(there’s Miyawaki Sakura, the wealthy heiress with pink hair and a charming, camera-trained smile, and; Kim Jiwon, who would have stolen your heart with her cute, cat-like ways back in your high school days)—your mind remains caught up in Wonyoung.

Pick up your cup, and the black design makes you think of her dark braided hair, which would have felt amazing curled up in your hands as you have your way with her. It’s difficult to drink coffee when the bitter taste reminds you of how she’d taste infinitely better, if last night her crotch was parked on your face instead of your lap. Wiping your mouth with the provided tissue paper sparks a new lamentation: the similar smooth feel of her maid’s dress, and, with her slim shape, how easy it would be to fold her into every position imaginable just to feel her insides become disarrayed from your needy cock.

She’s like a dream come true, dancing in your mind as if she were your ballerina rather than a hotel maid. She’s a sweet, innocent daydream who knows not of how much she stays first in line in your train of thoughts. Wonyoung is temptation in its most innocent form, and it ruins you how you can’t have her for yourself.

"Hey, you alright?" asks the old man you befriended after Rei's rejection. He's still wearing his pajamas and foggy glasses.

You nod, your mind someplace else. "Yeah. You?"

"All is well on my end, too." He lathers Nutella on the plateaus of bread and folds into half tightly. "Did the maid come over to see you last night?"

Chewing through your bread (untoasted, of course), you shake your head. "Nope," you lie through your teeth. "No lap dance, no nothing."

"Huh, that's odd. You probably don't remember it."

"Or maybe you lied," you say.

"Nuh uh, your old man's a saint. She came over to me last night. Gave hot stuff here some action."

"Sure she did."

The man chuckles lightly before taking a bite out of his bread. Now that his eyes are on his food rather than you, you think of Wonyoung again. You wonder if your meeting with her is what love at first sight is. You’re unhealthily infatuated with the girl, and you’ve only met her once. Could it be that this means something more?

Unfortunately, you haven’t got the answer to your own question. But, when she comes tonight, you’ll find out. Your determination is set on it.

3. THE

And come she does; her meek voice barely has audible quality past the glass peephole on your door, but it does make her small face look unusually large. Her expression holds the same lamblike innocence to it, and the dirty thoughts all come rushing back.

Your heart jumps as you welcome her inside. "Hi, Wonyoung."

"S-sir," she stutters, hands folded in front of her skirt, "I want to say that I'm sorry for last night."

Her voice is sweetly precious in a way that, even if you didn't already like her, you would have forgiven her instantly. Her departure last night isn't a grudge you hold on her—she just wants to stay true to the rules, plain and simple. And there's nothing wrong with that; you play by the book, too.

"No hard feelings." You pat her cheek. Feel it become hot. "You're just doing your job. One more time okay?"

You watch the relief wash over her face. But nervousness settles in once more as she sits on top of you.

Her bum erects your cock, sliding up its backside and teasing the tip like she did the night before. You even get a feel of a cameltoe through her shorts. Your hands find her waist and you help her sway her hips side to side. Wonyoung's constantly looking back at you with desperation tinting her gaze. She might not know it, but it's the plea in her gaze that's daring you to break the rules for her just one time. Just one time.

Come on, it seems to taunt, you can live with a burnt hand, you can live with being a rabbit if it means spending a night with Wonyoung. Do it.

So, when she finishes her routine, the first thing you utter is:

"Please don't go."

You've reached a new low: you've fallen for the maid's tight hot body and pretty little face, and now you can't get enough. You won't ever get enough of her, and that both satisfies and dissatisfies you. If she's so far away, how can you ever get to have at least a healthy portion of her? How can you lose yourself in her when it's forbidden?

Wonyoung looks at you regretfully. "Sir," she begins, hand steadied on the doorknob.

"Please, Wony."

The nickname ignites a firework in her. The flame shoots through her trembling hands, pretty face, and drenched core.

When did words alone make her feel so… warm? Her legs feel weak all of a sudden, and though she knows she can get in trouble for entertaining you more, invisible puppet strings drag her to you. Her lust, like some tumors, has formed a mind of its own, and it overpowers her logic already. It intends to keep her on the track towards granting her sexual needs.

"If we do it," she says hesitantly, "do you promise to never tell anyone?"

"I swear."

Wonyoung nods, registering your oath and making a silent one of her own, too. "Okay, thank you."

"Of course."

"And… and can you call me Wony?"

You promise to. You swear on your risked life and heart poisoned by Wonyoung's presence that somehow thrives with the toxicity.

To illustrate what happens after that, and how your pants and her underwear end up slipping off and her thin legs are suddenly curled around your waist, is difficult. It's hard to remember who initiated everything, or even make verbal guesses when your lips are entangled with Wonyoung. Any attempts to cover any hidden CCTVs should have been made earlier when your hands weren't on her thighs, lifting her to the bed and keeping her down there as kissing becomes the only thing you know.

You don't know if Wonyoung is a good kisser or it's all because of how plump her lips are. They wrap around your own with such soft security that the tenderness of it makes slipping your tongue inside her ignites feelings of just a tiny bit of guilt. But then you remember that corrupting Wonyoung from a sweet girl with little experience to a nymphomaniac is exactly what you want to do, and the guilt goes away almost completely.

"You kiss so well, sir," she says, much to your surprise when you've just completed an internal monologue about how good she kisses.

"You're not so bad yourself. Fucking love these lips." You lick a stripe of lust over her mouth and she giggles. "Show me what they're good for, Wony."

"You mean, like… suck your cock?"

"You're a quick girl."

"I am, but only for you, sir."

Wonyoung takes this as her sign to switch the positions, with you being the one on the bed while she gets on her knees. The size difference between your erection and her small face surprises you. With how small Wonyoung is all over, especially her little mouth, how can she take you?

Luckily for you—and for the equally turned on maid—that's the thrill of it. She's big and tall around everyone but you, and that alone already makes you want to do the most unholy things to her. Show her who's truly the big one in this situation, show her where she belongs, which is below you, between your legs and making puppy eyes for your cock.

The light dawns on Wonyoung's pleading face. She pouts, grabbing a hold of your cock and swiping it on her mouth, before asking, "Please? May I pretty, pretty please suck your cock?"

"You can anytime. Wouldn't mind if I pull on your cute pigtails, right, Wony? You'd let me tug on them while I fuck your face?"

"Oh!" Wonyoung nods eagerly. Is that even a question? Of course she'd let you. "Yes, yes, sir, please do. Wony doesn't care if it hurts. Wony only wants you."

Are those tempting words part of her training course prior to becoming a maid? Maybe, and perhaps closing her sweet lips cleanly around your dick is a lesson there, too; it's a lesson she passed with flying colors.

Her hair's already twisted in your fingers, ready for when the overpowering emotion of lust hits. Meanwhile, her hands are on your thighs to guide her in pushing her head back and forth. Her eyes sparkle more than the stars in the night sky outside the window.

She clicks her tongue on the bottom side of your cock. Hissing, you make your first tug, mumbling her name in almost rueful tones. Yea, rue Wonyoung for how fucking sexy she is, rue her for taking your eyes off the people you're supposed to be with. Oh, yes, rue her. Her punishment ought to be what's happening right now, but she's enjoying it a little too much for it to be called one.

"So good!" she says pitchily, as if your cock were actual food that's left a lasting first impression. "Mm, oh, you're so big and long, sir. I love how your precum tastes. But I want the, the real cum from you, too."

"Wonyoung…"

There's her name again, never leaving your thoughts but departing from your lips. You rise from the edge of the bed and poke your dick against the inside of her cheek, and God, does she look adorable. It feels good, too.

"Mmm, mmm! You'll give it to me, won't you?" Wonyoung looks up at you expectantly, speaking between effortless blowing. "You'll give plenty of cum for Wonyoung, right?"

"If you keep blowing me like that, I might as well."

The last three words come all rambled against each other, tied closely between syllables as you're losing your breath. Dragging your cockhead against Wonyoung's tongue and cheeks brings you a lot closer than you'd like, but you really don't want to deny her of what she wants. You'd love to spoil her with numerous shots of semen, all over her beautiful and angelic face, plus inside her prepared mouth.

"Oh, then I'll keep doing it." She giggles mischievously. Your hips are contained by her hands as she starts to bob her head. You gasp as you fill her throat and part its tightness. Her tongue teases your balls pressing against her lips and your throbbing veins. "Mmm, like this, sir? C'mon, fuck my throat. Give me your cum."

You aren't going to deny her of that either. Your cock enters the depths of her throat with the help of your fists pulling onto Wonyoung's braids. She lets out soft grunts whenever you thrust, and soon, her effortless blowing becomes difficult to replicate.

It's sadistic pleasure when her gags stimulate your cock even further, as if she were just another pretty little fuckdoll whose purpose is none other than that, and her mouth opens wider for air only to be filled again with cock. Her breaths are far away, and with your musky scent filling her nostrils, she can't even get oxygen. Spit and gags are all you can hear aside from your own heavy groans and Wonyoung's whines. A world outside of sex with her doesn't exist at the moment—it's just you and her, and there's no turning back.

And, even with only you and her in this universe, you still get lost in the warm wet pleasure of her mouth.

The merciless assaults you do unto her face, using what's supposed to be the visual of the century being displayed in billboards nationwide as your personal fuckhole, make both of you scream. Like an experiment gone wrong, you explode in Wonyoung's mouth. Her drool slides down her chin as her tongue sticks out, trying to catch the hosed eruptions of semen into her mouth. She wants it all inside her, and there's no excuses that can be made for drops gone wasted.

That's what the rest of her face is for. You pull out and spray your cum on her. More explodes

"Sir, oh, sir, that's so much!" Wonyoung opens her mouth wide and sticks out her tongue, her eyes closed. "Yes, thank you, I'll take all of it!"

There are promises all over the world that are broken everyday, but Wonyoung keeps hers, true to her word: hands on her knees, like the obedient little maid she is, she lets your mess launch into her mouth and face. Even when some get into her hair, or a few specks roll down her maid outfit, she stays still and lets the tide take its toll on her.

It settles eventually, like all things do at some point. But it's made clear that this sex thing won't—you still want more. Like lust and gluttony, the sin of greed has taken over you. You long for more of Wonyoung, for her everything, knowing that this might be the last night you're ever allowed to see her again. They're sure to be watching everything going on.

You stand to lock the door. As the latch falls into place as well as the dresser table for extra security, Wonyoung's eyes sparkle; it means that the two of you aren't done yet.

"You're going to give me the real thing, right, sir?" A good pet and a good girl, Wonyoung crawls, following your steps, and sets her used face on your knee when you sit back down. "Right? Please say I'm right."

You laugh. After stroking her hair, you wipe the cum off her face with your thumb and offer it to Wonyoung. She sucks on it, as expected. "Aren't you supposed to be leaving? I thought you didn't want to do this."

"Oh, but I do, sir. I wanted to but I was scared… but I'm not scared anymore. I want you and your cock inside me, now."

You dig your thumb deeper into her tongue. Wonyoung whimpers, forced to open her mouth wider. "I'm afraid you don't get to make the rules around here, Wonyoung," you taunt. "But maybe if you tell me what you want, I'll give it to you."

"Really?"

"Sure, why not? But don't get your hopes up, Wony."

"Hahmm, okay." Wonyoung's finger dimples her chin. "I want you to fuck me."

"Dirty little mouth you got there."

Wonyoung blushes. "You made me like this, sir. It's your fault. I want you to take responsibility."

"In what way?"

"No…"

"I need you to be more specific, doll," you say. You raise her chin upwards. She juts her bottom lip out. "I'm risking everything here for you. Tell me what you want."

"I want sir to fuck me… to fill me up like I'm his little breeding toy." Wonyoung squirms. She's getting turned on at her own words. "Yes, yes, I want that—I know it'll hurt because I haven't been fucked by a cock as big as his, but I don't care. I want you to fill my insides and fill every hole. I want you to make it last."

"Even if we might never get to see each other again? Even if you might lose your job?"

"I don't care if I do, sir. All I want is you."

"You're a desperate little thing, aren't you, Wonyoung?" you ask, smiling a little. "But that's good enough for me. Get on the bed."

Wonyoung obeys a little too fast for someone who's only met you once. Where is the hesitation from earlier? Out of the window—she's on all fours on the mattress, skirted ass and pussy jut out. She's shameless, bold, and you certainly wouldn't have thought she'd be this weak for cock if you had only met her outside of this hotel. Her angelic looks just sweep out all possibilities of sluttiness, or at least, you would have thought so, because why is she whining helplessly right now, all for your dick?

Her soft sounds are subliminal messages. They tell you to spank her soft ass and have your way with her. They're so powerful that you do exactly that: you draw your hand back as far as you could and slap Wonyoung's ass cheek. Her knees tremble, and she's whispering your soft honorific over and over.

"Sir, please," Wonyoung whispers. "No more. I need you right now."

She doesn't need to say it when her soft, virginal cunt dribbles a waterfall of wetness. You make it a point to let your fingers slap its puffy lips as well. It sends the little maid crying out in pain, but it couldn't be that if she's spreading her legs more, right?

"Need your cock inside me," she says. She winces and cringes through the spanks. "Mm! Need it to ruin me, sir! Need it to make your maid too tired to work, please, please, please!"

"You're risking your job here, Wony," you say, a proud smirk on your face as you remind her of what's at stake, "you're risking everything just for my cock. And you've only met me once. My god, you really are a slut."

"Mhmm, I am!"

"And you know what happens to bad little maids like you, right?" Throwing one last harsh spank, you lean over to whisper in her ear. "They get this."

Wonyoung screams a ramble of curses when your cock enters her. You suppose she's truthful about never having done much of this before; she's painfully tight. Grunts already depart from your lips at the first few thrusts.

"Jesus fucking Christ." You're hypnotized by her reddened ass bouncing against your stomach as you drill into her. Your hands are wrapped tightly around her little waist to feel more of the round cheeks clap.

"Sir!" she shouts. She never gives you a break; her vaginal walls are always swallowing your length and keeping most of it there. "More, please, more, I need it!"

Wonyoung's pussy is better than just having her do a lap dance on you. It isn't even a debatable matter when it's wet just right for you to slide in and out of her hot warm hole, and tight enough to pleasure your cock like she was designed for fucking. Sizable breasts, pretty dazed face, and slim bod? It's hard to believe that those descriptions do not belong to a sex doll but instead to Wonyoung, but she's becoming one herself also.

That's exactly the reason why you're more than happy to give more to her. You glide your hands everywhere, feeling her beautiful body almost worshipfully. You're afraid to break her; she's so slim that you might hurt her with one wrong move, but your fear doesn't really match up with how mercilessly you're pounding her, how you're forcing her to scream out your honorifics as if the walls were soundproof.

You're worried, to be honest. You know they're watching, and you know other people are still waiting for their daily routine with her. You know that the two of you could get in trouble that extends to more than a simple scolding. More clarity would have hit you like a brick wall in your way if it weren't for Wonyoung screaming:

"Yes, yes, yes, fuck me like that! Ha– oh!"

Wonyoung lets out a tiny exhale at your hands pulling on her braids. With the help of the tugs, your eyes enjoy the sight of her expressions contorting with the pleasure and pain. One second, she's pursing her lips and her eyes are wide open, and in the other millisecond her mouth hangs with yelps and gasps. Wonyoung is not afraid to show how she feels, which motivates you to keep pounding. Every flush drill into her naked lower body draws another orgasmic expression on her pretty face.

"That's right, Wony likes having her little pussy stretched out," you growl. Sex might as well be an exercise; you're straining your hips with how hard you pull out and push, and getting your hands sore as they grasp her braids. Wonyoung is merely your equipment. "You do, don't you? Pretending you're an innocent babygirl just to tempt me?"

"Y-yes," she says, biting her lip. "I love sir's hard cock! I love how it hurts, oh yes—"

"Of course you do, baby. It doesn't matter what I do to you, you'll always cum for me. You'll put everything on the, fuck, line just for my dick."

Wonyoung squeals throughout firm rubs on her clit. Her lower body sways and flinches, and she's beginning to struggle to keep herself up. Luckily, there's your grip on her braids to keep her upright, to keep her in position for fucking.

"That's right, sir," she tells you. Her words are cut off by tiny gasps. "I'll always cum for you, I want to be the one you use forever. I don't care if we get caught, I don't care, I just want you."

"Of course. Nobody can fuck you as good as me. You're mine to ruin. Now cum for me like a good girl, Wony. Don't hold back."

She nods. She's almost there. Just a few more sunken thrusts into her warm pussy, and she's going to lose it. It's an ending she actually looks forward to. Being able to squeeze around you and to sheen your girth with squirt seems like an achievable goal. It doesn't even have to be time-based, too, she realizes, when her legs shake once more.

"Ohhhh, fuck! Sir, oh my god, sir, I'm cumming!"

Dragging your penis against her textured sensitive spot, you fuck Wonyoung into an orgasm. It arrives (you smile at the pun) like a heavy flood. If you were the one to spray your cum on her earlier, now it's reversed—Wonyoung's vagina squirts a mess of girl cum and nectar onto your lower body and the little clothes that remained on you. She's screaming so loud that you bet even soundproof walls wouldn't be able to hold back her shouts. No, the walls and windows would shatter, and the bed would break into pieces as well, with the help of her limbs scrambling to steady herself. Wonyoung has gone crazy, finally corrupted to the core as it contains all of your plentiful cum.

You tug her braided ponytails up and let her kneeling form rest against your chest. Her head rests against your shoulder, and from there, you hear her muttering senseless sentences. They can't even be called so when they're fragments of words that don't mix well together, but fortunately, you understand what she means: you fucked her really well.

It could go two ways with Wonyoung when you start to kiss her neck and shoulders: fortunate or unfortunate. She might be ready to have her other hole filled, but on the other hand, she might need more time to recover. But that isn't a matter you linger on when kissing Wonyoung's pretty collarbone and shoulders is a better task to fulfill. She's gasping softly, unable to moan because of losing her voice in her orgasm earlier, but you still work your magic.

"Sir…" she mutters. Exhaustion rides her body like a carousel. It makes her weak, and your kissing doesn't help aid her situation.

"Yes, Wony?"

She leans back more into your neck, and curves her head to the side so that her words play out next to your ear: "I want more."

4. RABBITHOLE

"You sure?" you say. This is probably one of the few times she has had sex, and it's only one night. Maybe it's going too fast?

"Does sir not want to fill my little asshole up?" Wonyoung asks. She guides your fingers to her sides. As if her body and your hands were magnets, they join instantly. "Doesn't he want Wony anymore?"

God knows what Wonyoung referring to herself in third person does to you. Your cock hardens and bumps her ass cheeks, and you’re required to tighten your hold on her hips to maintain your stability. "I—I want you, Wonyoung," you say. "But are you sure you're ready?"

She blushes. It's little caring questions like these that put her into the most passive state imaginable. When that state of mind imprisons her, she only wants to make you feel good. "Yes, sir."

There it is. It's your cue to switch positions, make use of as little time as possible to recover, and get ready.

You lather her asshole with makeshift lube. You drag squirt from her pussy to her rear end, using it as lube. Wonyoung, now sitting on the bed, watches. She's overcome with lust. Her puckered hole twitches as you tease your cock against it.

"Don't tease me, sir,” begs Wonyoung. She parts her leg a little more, then leans back into the mattress. The way she’s looking at you with those sultry yet pure eyes and how her legs are spread underneath the maid dress are straight out of a porn. Wonyoung’s so tempting, so irresistible, that you wonder every now and then if she’s even real. She’s a walking doll from head to toe, made to fuck and be fucked, which leaves the question: why aren’t you filling her asshole up yet?

You bunch together a whole lot of effort to push your cock through her hole. It’s a little less wet than her pussy, but god, is it tight. Wonyoung moans softly and tries to relax, but every push makes her impulsively clench down. You’re afraid that you might blow early, and you really don’t want this to end yet.

“Sir, sir,” she says, eyes widening to the size of saucers when you grab her legs and push them back. “Fuck, it’s so good, I can’t—”

You groan a little. “Yes you can, Wony.” Your thumbs slide up and down on her thighs affectionately. “You’re my good girl, right? You can take it.”

“Hnnn.” Wonyoung shuts her eyes. Her moans and whimpers are a series of pleasure that almost makes you forget about being careful rather than urge you to be. You’d love to hear more of those pretty moans from her, but she can’t make them unless she’s comfortable. “Is it all in yet, sir?”

Her asshole has taken in most of your rod. You suppose that’s good for a first-timer. It’s good enough for a little white lie. “Yep. Good girl. Can I move now?”

“Okay… just be careful.”

With a girl like Wonyoung, careful sex is out of the question. But oh, you try, you truly do. Make use of your shaft covered with Wonyoung’s pussy juices to lube up the journey inside her asshole. Let her wet cunt make it easier to slip into her tight, brown hole. You enjoy the helpless, corrupted look in her face and the feel of her pillowy thighs in your hands, and you can safely presume that she’s enjoying it, too. Soft hums of pain still barely make it out from between her knit lips, but her eyes roll back—it’s a different feeling, for sure, yet it feels good.

“Fuck, Wony, you’re a tight fit.”

“Thank you, sir,” says Wonyoung. Her pale cheeks have turned red again.

She rubs a finger over her nub so more of her juices can lubricate her rear end. It’s effective; although Wonyoung writhes with the double pleasure, the unusual method makes it easier to fuck her. Now, thrusting inside her is almost like doing so to her pussy: tight and wet. Her ass ripples beautifully, and her expressions catch you off guard. Her jaw is on the ground and her eyes look upwards, as if doing so helped ease the experience. However, she shuts them, as making that expression makes you hammer harder into her butt.

“That’s it, sir, it feels so good now. You’re so big inside me.”

“Deeper then?” you challenge her. You push her legs deeper into the mating press position, and you can visibly see her pussy clench around nothing but air. You’re allowed to travel deeper inside her butt this way, and Wonyoung couldn’t be more ecstatic.

“Yes, hmmm! So hard, sir, I can feel you throbbing!”

Does a sir kink exist? If not, it does now—Wonyoung’s polite honorific has become the easiest method to harden and lengthen your erection. Each time she calls you that, with those same watery eyes and puffy lips, you’re driven to deliver hammered thrusts in her hole, whichever one. In a way, she’s corrupted you, too. If you erased the former innocent maid she is, she’s transformed you into a man who can only go weak for her. Other women have no effect on you when the hotel maid is the one you’d rather pin down the bed and fuck till she passes out.

And she doesn’t even know it.

“Fuck, Wonyoung.” You give in to your impulsive thrusting, wringing screams of pleasure from her throat. “What the fuck are you doing to me, hm?”

Wonyoung’s next inhalation of air is delayed due to the obstacle that is your hand wrapped around her throat. She whines out. “Sir, oh my god—”

“This is all your plan, isn’t it, you naughty girl? You want me to do anything for you. You want my cock so bad that you make me want you, too. And for what, hm? For a quick dicking down? You’re fucking pathetic.”

Degrading word after degrading word leaves your mouth, but each makes Wonyoung thrust her core upwards to meet your clashing sex. She’s become paler, weaker, sluttier—all in the span of your furious sex session. You’ve no idea why you’re saying all those words that would hurt a normal person’s feelings and dignity, especially when Wonyoung is too angelic and pretty to be guilty of anything, but if it makes Wonyoung look like she’s on the edge of cumming at all times, then you’ll stick to that plan.

“I bet you like walking around in your little outfit, Wony, and wearing those pigtails, too, because you know people are going to look. Is that what you want? For people to notice how goddamned fuckable you are? Because if it is, it’s fucking working.”

Pausing is a faraway dream; you keep on rambling, and your thrusts remain rapid. A stream of ruined breaths squeeze out of Wonyoung’s mouth. Her pillow-like cheeks clench tighter around your cock, as if it were agreeing.

“Sir,” coughs out Wonyoung. Tears spill down her face, but she keeps on rubbing her small clit, and, on occasion, fingerfucking her cunt. “I’m going—god, I’m going to—”

“Cum? Do it, then. Cum all over my dick, but we’re not finished. The night is still young, Wony; we have all the time in the world.”

Releasing Wonyoung’s throat does nothing to help her breathe when your lips crash into hers immediately. She’s screaming into your mouth. You propel yourself closer to orgasm with your thrusting, then fully cream her butthole. Wonyoung’s cum squirts all over the place: on the bed sheets, your shirt, and your cock. She stops rubbing herself, apparently giving up on taking more, but you continue the loop for her.

Her screams continue. They’re a melody to accompany your thrusts, and your sleep, for you collapse on the bed, tired and weak.

You'll meet your end today. They already found out. That's definitely certain; mandatory love is no winning game. Love in general isn't, especially when it's founded on merely scrawny and lustful sex. The lines between lust and love blur, and it becomes more dangerous than it actually is.

So, now that you remember how all this—a young, gorgeous woman by the name of Jang Wonyoung in the crook of your arm, her hand on your cock and glossy lips on yours—start, what do you do now?

Well, for one, you have to reminisce about the past and pray for there to be a future, just one more time. You've to live in what once was as if the former days were the current ones and what's now is nothing to worry about. But you shouldn't dwell too long; the rapid knocking on your door is growing louder and louder.

#kpop smut #izone smut #ive smut #jang wonyoung smut #wonyoung smut #izone wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut #wonyoung #jang wonyoung #male reader #x reader #reader insert #pov smut

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ooctlt · 14 days

Note

I think the etiquette of ask blogs is a forgotten art. what I'm saying is (imo) it's not that people don't want to play, it is they don't know HOW, and more importantly they don't understand that the game exists to begin with. obviously you do not have to teach people the rules because your time and energy is finite but idk. it feels like from some of your OOC responses that you assume people know the rules and are playing badly, but I genuinely think people (me) just don't know what you are wanting them (us) to do. and also they (i) don't know how to tell if they (i) are playing the game correctly.

An example I am genuinely confused about is, is inciting a "shut up" answer a signal that the game is being played correctly, because we are inciting a reaction from the character? or is a "shut up" answer a signal that we are playing wrong and need to do something different? I'm sorry. I really love your art and seeing the story unfold but I'm confused and I want to play and I don't understand how.

yeah ive had a couple people tell me this has been the first active askblog in a while and the concept of askblog etiquette has been forgotten- @thatneoncrisis and i made a diagram:

link to full-res image

a "shut up" reaction will hopefully show whether or not it's a closed path of exploration: if you have gideon sweating, going "pshhh its nothinggg" it means there is something worth exploring. if you have harrow slamming the door in your face, that is an advance that wont work on her

transcript under the readmore:

DEAD END QUESTION ANON: CAMILLA DO YOU THINK HARROW'S HOT?

"Please stop talking to me."

This question is BAD because it's BLUNT, INCREDIBLY PERSONAL and founded on INCOMPLETE KNOWLEDGE of their relationship.

NOTE that its not that shitty questions will NEVER be answered, its that 1) they have a LOWER chance of being answered and 2) they have a HIGHER chance of being made fun of in character

gideon: haha who thinks harrow is HOT

DECENT INCONSEQUENTIAL QUESTION ANON: CAMILLA DO YOU LIKE TO DO ANYTHING FUN WITH HARROW?

"Sure. We run a lot of errands together."

This kind of question may not advance the plot, as it is INCREDIBLY BROAD yet NONINVASIVE. They're good for quick 1-3 panel answers. May generally be met with a less EXCITING answer.

It might also be DIFFICULT TO ANSWER because a broad question could include MULTIPLE ANSWERS - asking "do you guys go out" could not be answered SUSTAINABLY, because i cannot draw all the places they visit

ANON: EVERYONE, WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CLOUD / WATER / MOLECULAR STRUCTURE / BONE / CAR / COFFEE BRAND/ BOOK CHARACTER?

me: "i have to do so much research"

NEAT QUESTION CAMILLA HAS HARROW EVER ASKED YOU TO DO SOMETHING WITH HER SHE WAS EXCITED ABOUT?

"Yes, actually. She once invited me to [REDACTED], I didn't know she liked that sort of thing."

This question is SICK AS FUCK because not only do you learn something SUBSTANTIAL about the characters, you have stumbled upon A NEW PLOT BRANCH, one that actively deepens character connections and their past within the world. It specifically remarks upon a MEMORY* rather than AN OPINION and will typically be LONGER.

Another good option is to PROMPT something following this:

ANON: CAMILLA, MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY TAKING HARROW OUT TO DO [REDACTED] THAT SHE LIKES BEFORE XYZ?

and this can then spiral onward…

*DM, ONE TIME I ASKED ABOUT A MEMORY AND I GOT A RUDE ANSWER; WHAT DID I DO WRONG?

It's not that this topic can never be spoken about, it's about WHEN you asked it and HOW you said it, or even WHO you asked.

Some topics, like the nature of HARROW AND GIDEON'S UPBRINGING are too recent for them to talk about, it has only been TWO YEARS since they left and there are SPECIFICS about the situation that the AUDIENCE hasn't discovered yet. There are things like GIDEON'S PARENTS that she CANNOT answer because she DOESN'T KNOW and answering multiple asks with I DON'T KNOW becomes repetitive and dull for both the DM and PLAYER.

BUT! She can learn! Over time, when the time is appropriate and feels the most natural for STORY PROGESSION. Think of it like a BAD ENDING in a visual novel. You START OVER and ask a DIFFERENT QUESTION, or approach it from a DIFFERENT ANGLE. If Gideon reacts poorly to someone congratulating her leaving BAD CIRCUMSTANCES, consider talking to her about the FUTURE. Instead of trying to pry at Camilla to see if she had an INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP with Pyrrha, try to ask about other things in that period of her life, like how they met or what caused her to move out.

FINALLY, if you'd like an ask to be answered out of character, your best bet would be to goto @notedchampagne and send it there. If you'd like an ask to be answered SINCERELY or you don't want SNARK, you can specify this in the ask, but know this blog may not be your thing.

#actual ooc

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anundyingfidelity · 1 month

Text

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part IV)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 2.8k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: Reader's parents are fucking irresponsible and disgusting people, mentions of a dead parent, Homelander!!!! (he's a fucking warning), sexual assault (touching, kissing, etc.) and some after thoughts, you know the usual questionable stuff on TB universe, Ben's point of view and presence=red flag.

Notes: more about reader's past in here! And just want to add that this is how i imagine her suit on this chapter. I'm also using a lot of inspo from Sue Storm of the Fantastic Four because I love her, so yeah. And thanks so much for reading it means a lot to me! ^^

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @blacknoirr @deans-spinster-witch

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part IV: Countdown

2009

"Spectrum, turn around, please," the lady on the other side of the camera ordered.

You did as she told, turning slowly and showing a complete view of your suit. Made of unstable molecules, the suit was your best creation at the time. It was all white with black details, and finally you had something covering your whole body that'd turn invisible when you commanded. Your boots were the same, specially built to disappear and blend with your powers when needed.

"Great, show us what you can do," the woman said.

You nodded, your heart beating so hard on your chest. You didn't want to fuck it up. Not for your mother. She was the main reason why you were there in the first place. You took a deep breath, with eyes closed you raised your palms at your chest level and created a force field around your figure. The force fields you learnt to make over the years of self training were like gigantic bubbles that allowed you to float around if you said so, and they protected you or anyone or anything they were covering.

The camera, the couch, the table, and any single thing you found in the room were now surrounded by the fields, lifting them up a couple of feet from the surface. And once you thought it was enough, they landed slowly on their place, the fields vanished just like the one around yourself. Though the lady on the other side didn't seem amused or surprised.

"I also turn invisible," you said for the first time after your personal presentation was over.

"Go on," she plainly answered.

And within seconds, you slowly disappeared from her sight. The fabric of the suit faded away.

"I created this special costume to turn invisible without, you know, being naked," you commented.

Still, there was no clear answer on the face of the woman. She was just busy taking notes and filming your audition with the steady camera on the table. She said nothing, her eyes glued to her writing. Disappointed, you made yourself visible again.

"That's impressive!"

You gasped. It was that voice you heard so many times on TV. His steps came closer and he stopped by your side with a smile on his face.

"Homelander," the woman called with a wide, fake grin. "You weren't supposed to be in here."

"Just passing by, wanted to say hi. I'm really amazed by you, darling."

You tried to smile the best you could. But you were so tense and flustered now that he was in front of you. Your childhood hero, coming to see you at your audition. Even before you got a clear response from Vought. It felt like a dream. Any child had dreamt of it at some point.

You grew up with him and the Seven. He was one of the reasons you forgot every single problem and responsibility your dysfunctional, selfish family put you through from a young age. To them, you were just a doll to play with and show off. The perfect daughter. But seeing the Seven was totally different. You wanted to be like them. Too sad this part was also linked to your mother and her self-centered shit. If only...

"Thank you," you barely answered with a soft voice, looking down on your boots.

"I've been out there, hesitating if I should come in, since you created those force fields. Wow!" he praised, making you chuckle. "You left the door open on purpose, didn't you two?"

All you could do was chuckle again, you felt your cheeks burning at his banter. He smiled along with you before turning his eyes to the lady.

"Hey, Greta. Can you leave us alone for a moment?"

"But I have to-"

Homelander chuckled, cutting her words. "Absolutely no, I can continue for you. Remember?"

Greta, as he called her, swallowed thickly and her eyes switched between you and the supe. "Sure, sir."

She lifted herself up from the chair, took her things and went out. You noticed the camera was still in place, that meant it was still rolling.

Once the door closed. "So..." he began, walking a circle around you. "How'd you create this... costume of yours?"

"Well, I like science," you nervously smiled, playing with your glove-covered hands. He passed by your face this time and paced around one more time. "It took me a while to figure out how but I did something with the molecules, created my own patent of the matter and did this complete costume."

Homelander stopped at your back. He hummed. "Smart. Tell me..."

His pause made you answer what he was looking for. "Spectrum."

"Spectrum, why do you want to be part of the Seven so bad?"

Homelander dragged your alias with a dark voice, one that replaced the long warm and welcoming tone he had with you at first. You licked your lips, anxious and out of words. Once behind your figure, he angled himself so close to one of your ears that you felt his hot breath on your skin.

"So? I know you have something to say, dear."

"I- I just want to help others... Do what you guys do..."

The next thing you felt was the supe's strong body pressing on your ass. You gasped loudly as his hands grabbed the sides of your hips forcing you to fall back against his chest.

"Go on," Homelander whispered.

One of his hands roamed over your stomach slowly, right under your breasts, and you were absolutely caged on his grip. You took deep breaths, closing your eyes as he touched you over the suit.

"I- I know science, I told you. Also I can help the team w-with new inventions of my own... Create technology t-to fight very bad threats," you stuttered.

"Mmmh, yeah, I like the sound of that," Homelander chuckled against your neck, his lips tracing soft and unwanted kisses on your skin.

"Please- ah!"

He harshly pushed you against his groin. Your breath caught in your throat at the feel of his crotch. This wasn't what you thought it was. This was not what your mother signed you up for.

"Tell me, did your father know how much of a fucking slut you are?" Homelander hissed, his hand cupping your covered breast.

Something inside you emerged at his question. His touch was disgusting and it was making you sick and the mention of your father, your dead father, made it even worse.

"What do you know about him?" you asked in a dark whisper, still planning your next move.

Deep inside, you were scared of Homelander, it was a new face he had yet to show to the world.

"Just the basics, honey," he said plainly, forcing you to walk with a grip on your arm. The supe sat on the couch and pushed you to his lap. "He was quite the rich man, Edgar knew you'd be a great deal to the company, well, your money of course."

You let out a gasp. "What?"

"Honey, he was one of our most valuable shareholders," he playfully answered, his hands cupping your cheeks.

And it clicked. Your mother supported your dream just because she'd still be getting profits from Vought. The firm was now under her name, and she needed something more to strengthen the relationship between Vought and your father's inheritance. The fucking witch. And then, your father. He was the one financing this piece of shit sitting between your legs. Were all supes like this behind their masks? If so, fucking crap. Everything you believed in was bullshit. A circus. And they clowned you so well. And above all, the sickening man that had been touching you without your permission the past endless minutes...

"Oh, poor thing, you didn't know," Homelander's intense blue eyes widened when he immediately noticed your confused, blank face.

Your eyes filled with tears and still, you refused to cry in front of the asshole you once admired.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you here with us," he smirked. His fingers on your neck, feeling your pulse. You closed your eyes so hard, your nose wrinkled and you held back a sob when his hand added pressure around your collar. He leaned closer, his lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss as you tried to resist his touch. "So fucking useful," Homelander whispered against your lips. He gave you that mischievous grin of his. You shivered. "I can't wait to ruin you. Every single inch of you."

The same past memory of Homelander haunted you the next day. The way you found out about your father's business with Vought and how the supes showed their real faces was the main reason you were here now.

You remembered you had to hit Homelander as hard as you could to escape from him and use your force field to protect yourself before running away and leaving the tower, fully invisible. Not that it was a great help since Homelander had a lot of abilities with his vision, and he could hear the beating of your heart miles away, but for you, it was worth the try. It was a surprise he didn't follow you that day. Instead, Vought got a new deal with your mother for the budget and you hated that. You cut all communication with what was left of your family after that day, knowing it could've been so much worse.

Homelander and Vought, however, were after you now. And he was a difficult face to forget. Not only because he was faking everything from the public but because Vought was after your father's money. And deciding to step away from all the illegal stuff they did, you left for college. Science was always a part of you and it's what got you here, under Grace Mallory and the CIA, doing different jobs you were not so proud of, but now, you were looking for a cure. It was all that mattered those days, until you found out that your mother had been experimented on during her pregnancy. A fucking lie. That's what your life was. That's why she cheered you to go to that stupid audition and fell into the hands of that monster at twenty-three years old.

The thought of your father supporting the horrid things Vought and the Seven did for decades was unbearable, and since Homelander's visit the night before caused those memories and nightmares to be back. It took a great effort to get out of bed and come to work that day. You'd make sure to compensate yourself for it later. But now, you were in a hurry to your daily session with Soldier Boy. You saved your phone in the pocket of your trousers after checking the time as you walked down the aisle, grabbing tightly the report of your patient with your other hand. Well, thirty minutes late wasn't nothing.

"Doctor!" you heard a female voice running towards you in the halls that made you turn on your heels. It was your young assistant.

"Hey, Bianca. What's wrong?" you asked as you noticed she was a little out of breath.

"We ran another test. The supe survived," she blurted, handing you a tablet that you didn't take. Sometimes the change in the results was minimal.

"That's great. Any significant improvements?"

"Well, just minimal effects. Right now some fever, fatigue, dehydration, and uhm, low pulse."

You sighed after another illusion. "Right. I don't think those are minimal effects, Bianca. Please check our patient and see how the powers are working. Run blood tests, all tests you can and then you can provide me the results. I'm a little busy right now."

She nodded with a shy smile, looking around subtly. "Sure."

You smiled back as best as you could. "Anything else?"

"No, it's just- I see you go this way a lot," Bianca pointed to the direction you were heading with her gaze. "That's Soldier Boy, isn't he?"

Your brows furrowed. "Why you ask?"

"Nothing, well, my grandpa used to talk about him all the time," she giggled. "I was just curious, sorry."

"No problem. I get it. But I really have to go, please make sure those results are on my desk by the end of the day," you ordered kindly.

"I will."

"Thanks, Bianca."

With that, you gave a last smile and began your walk again away from her, slower than before. For some reason something was off since you entered the building. It felt different. Totally weird. For the record, since Homelander threatened to have your head off, you paid twice the attention to your surroundings and the people around. You didn't know if there was something big planning right now in front of your nose. You just walked a couple of feet when you felt someone following behind, that was probably watching over you. In a swift movement, you turned on your heels but no one was there. The aisle was empty.

Bianca was already gone and almost no one would wander on this wing of the building, for obvious reasons. With caution you resumed your steps, telling yourself that you were not going insane.

"Robert Singer and I have been hard at work bridging the divide between the human and Superhuman communities. I've seen that divide firsthand in my three years running the FBSA—"

Ben scoffed, taking the TV controller to turn the screen off. "Bullshit."

He stood in the middle of the room with nothing but a towel hanging down his hips after taking a shower, taking the last smoke of his blunt. He grew tired of waiting for you, so he just took a shower and now, everything on the fucking channels was the stupid campaign by Victoria Neuman being supported by Vought and the fucking brat he was supposed to call his son.

With a deep breath, he finished the weed and threw the remains on the ashtray over the new coffee table. His mind started to wander away, realizing he had been a little calm the last couple of days after he almost blew up the fucking place to the ground. Inside, Ben knew your words and actions were a lot of help for the small sense of serenity that started to grow within his chest after that moment. Absolutely that was something he wouldn't admit, ever. But if he was to say, he was actually relieved.

Taking a look around, his place was not that big of a mess. You were certainly used to his clothes around the floor and the sofas, so it wasn't really important. What he found annoying though was you pushing him to read the stupid books and write down his feelings. He wasn't going to do that. If you were there to medicate him, so be it. He wondered why you took so long to do it. Probably he should be stoned enough to not feel anything. That was fucking better.

Just as he started to go over his mental plan to get the hell out of your prison, the door opened. He smirked at your sight. As always, an useless armed man standing behind your figure. You dispatched the guard and stepped inside Soldier Boy's place, the door closing with a loud sound.

You stopped your tracks just a few steps away from him. He noticed your eyes tracing his half bare body in a quick motion, before turning to his face with an arrogant smirk on your lips.

"See something you like, sweetheart?" Ben teased.

With a light chuckle, you held your head high. "Don't be delusional, it's just basic instinct."

"Believe me, I fucking know that," he snarked, taking over your figure with his green eyes the same way you did before. "Basic instinct."

You rolled your eyes. "So," you sat down in your usual place to start the session, making a pile of three of his shirts in the empty space. "Make yourself decent and then we can continue."

Ben took some sweatpants and a shirt from the floor and started to dress himself in front of you, without much care. He smirked as you turned away your gaze to focus on the report lying on your lap.

"You're late," he remarked, taking his own seat once he was done with his clothes.

"Yeah, I had some things to do," you mumbled going through the pages. "But I see we can start now."

He took a deep breath, staring into the distance. "Don't make it boring."

You grimaced, looking back at him. "Can't promise that."

Ben sensed a playfulness coming from you. Could it be that, after recieving your comforting words, he was seeing another side of you? Like the side that would actually trust him, because you still arrived. You were sitting in front of him. You were with him, in the same fucking room where the sun was far from getting. Yeah, you were there but he was too full of ego to bring his walls down again. He wanted to convince himself he wasn't vulnerable. He knew he was more than that. He was Soldier Boy, the man who had to stop Homelander and his fucking kid.

He smirked. "Well, sugar, I can ask you to try."

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon fanfiction #the boys series #the boys tv #jensen ackles fanfiction #soldier boy/ben

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heliads · 1 year

Note

Hiya! I sent a request earlier but i dont know if it sent in because i had bad wifi- so please ignore this if it sent in- (so sorry for the repeat) but i found your blog and you write the best luke Castellan fics ive ever read!! Could i request a Luke Castellan x Reader where reader is Percy’s older sibling? Like reader has been in the hermes cabin as an unclaimed since they came to camp with luke thalia annabeth and grover- so theyve gotten used to it but then percy gets there and they get claimed at the same time as him but they get upset because they feel like they were only claimed because the gods want to use them and they dont want to move into a big empty cabin with some kid they dont know? Thank you thank you thank you!!

thank you!! also this request HITS, anything for my man luke

masterlist

Luke Castellan thinks that he may come to regret this.

He’s sitting on the roof of the Hermes cabin, his favorite spot to get away from the noise currently roiling somewhere below him. Luke loves the people in Cabin Eleven, his half-siblings on the godly side and those who don’t have a true immortal parent to call their own. Not one they know, at least. That has always bothered him and likely always will.

Despite the fun of those good kids all decked out in orange t-shirts, gleeful grins, and bitter stares, the sound of all that teenage rage and rebellion can get to just about anyone. Curfew was already called, but the cleaning harpies won’t be around for a while, so Luke dares to stay out of doors for a few moments more.

The shadows shift in Luke’s periphery, and suddenly he’s alone no longer. Luke turns to see the intruder, letting the cool breeze guide him to the figure moving towards him in the semidarkness. Once he’s determined that he’s not about to be attacked, or at least not by an unfriendly face, he looks out towards the front of the cabin once more.

Luke closes his eyes, letting the creaking of wooden timbers and soft rhythm of footsteps tell him that his visitor is taking a seat next to him. Luke will answer their unspoken question soon enough, will carve out parts of him to make the other whole, but for now he lets himself bask in the blissful darkness of no one needing him for anything quite yet.

It is still here, it is quiet. The late hour must be getting to the Hermes kids below him; even the most rambunctious youth are murmuring about sleep and wanting to be silent for the time being. Luke can hear the insects whispering in the woods, the click of pincers, the swoosh of grass far below him. Luke knows what’s coming, but gods, if he doesn’t hate himself for wanting it so much.

Someone asks, “Can I come in?” Luke does not refuse. Does he ever?

It started earlier, all of this. Of course it did. Theirs is not a world of mere beginnings and endings. The past feeds the future, the present serves the past. You cannot pull one singular thread from a tapestry and expect to see the whole story.

Luke Castellan is used to people arriving unannounced to the Hermes cabin. Rarely has it been a place for solely his half-siblings, if it ever truly was. No, Hermes was the jack of all trades, so his home by extension must be the same as well. The bunks are always crowded, the floor always taken up by sleeping bags and curled forms of people who will never know who they truly are.

It used to make Luke mad. It still does, but that anger has been tainted with something else, a sort of grim sadness that tells him the bad times will just keep coming and coming. Every day, more unclaimed kids are sent here. If you get furious over every new arrival, the hate will never let you go. Sometimes, that’s more tempting than it should be.

There’s one unclaimed soul that Luke has never minded, though, and that would be Y/N L/N. They first came to camp a couple of years ago; no one knows when for sure, not even Luke or Y/N. Such details of such seemingly inconsequential arrivals are rarely written down in the great history books. Claimed kids have always been more important, especially those children of the more important gods. Some shadow of another indecision will just be given a camp t-shirt, a weapon, and an empty promise that they might, at some point, grow to know who they are.

So the Hermes cabin gained another soul to beat against its walls like a moth trapped inside past dark, who cares. Luke did. He still does, because Y/N wasn’t just another unclaimed demigod, they were his best friend. They plot late into the night about how they’d fix this place if they were ever in charge. Half of the scars on Luke’s sides are from all the times they were sparring together and Y/N managed to get through his defense. Luke heals some of those wounds with nectar or ambrosia, but not all. A couple are alright, to remind him of how much he’d bleed and die for Y/N if he ever got the chance.

They made a damn good team, anyone could see that. The jaded son of Hermes and the bitter unclaimed half-blood, the two people no one crosses, the only ones capable of pulling the other out of their own heads. Luke never knew what it was like to need someone until he met Y/N. He risked his life with Thalia, of course, he protected Annabeth, but he needs Y/N to breathe, to keep going. There are people who would despise such weakness, but Luke is not one of them. Not yet, at least. Not ever, so long as he’s in control of his own mind.

When Luke thinks about how much he hates the gods, when he drives himself half insane because of all the times the demigods needed their immortal parents and the gods never even bothered to claim them, he thinks about Y/N first of all.

He’s seen them cry a thousand tears for a parent that will never want them back, a sense of belonging that will never be theirs. Luke pulled Y/N close a hundred times, whispered a million worlds, and let his heart break in unison with theirs. They’ll get their revenge someday. Y/N will have their home, and even if that only ever ends up being Luke, it will be enough.

And then, all of a sudden, he wasn’t the end all, be all, of Y/N’s existence. A boy came to camp, sea-green eyes wide with shock and fear. His hair was dark, his conscience clean, and although Luke didn’t have a concrete reason to hate him, he did so anyway. Percy Jackson doesn’t know it yet, but he’s ruined everything.

The evidence was there soon enough. Capture the Flag has always been a favored pastime of the Camp Half-Blood demigods– who doesn’t love a chance to swing swords at your friends and enemies, then risk your neck in an attempt to wrangle victory and bragging rights in one go? Luke and Y/N have always made the best co-captains, and this time is no exception.

This time, though, Percy was on their team too, as another unclaimed kid stuck in Hermes cabin. Percy was the one who mysteriously has to face down a hellhound that somehow got into camp. No one looked to Luke as a source of the monster. No one suspected him. He made sure of it.

The result, though, he hadn’t counted on that. Percy is claimed, but the Jackson kid isn’t the only one with a glowing symbol hovering above their head. No, Luke looks to his side and realizes that Y/N, too, has been claimed. Y/N is a child of Poseidon as well. Looks like the god of the sea is only interested in claiming his children when he can multitask and get multiple at once, like checking off bothersome items on a to-do list.

Now is not the time for jokes, though. Y/N stares at him, eyes wide and reflecting the blue-green glow of being claimed, and Luke knows that it’s all over somehow. This is the sign Y/N’s been waiting for all this time, but it means that they’ll have to go to Poseidon’s cabin forever now, and just like that, all of their memories have come to a sudden halt.

They’re not done, of course. They’ll still be at the same camp, but nothing will ever truly be the same. No more of those late nights curled up together, whispering promises of a better future. No more working together on every cabinwide game or activity. No more eating meals together and exchanging jokes over bites of food. There is an immortal wedge driven between them now, as high and insurmountable as Luke has ever seen.

Y/N knows all this, and they look just as thunderstruck as he feels. Y/N looks like they want to run, and if it weren’t for the fact that the entire camp has now gathered around the two children of the sea god, Y/N might try it, too. Instead, they just stand there, staring at Luke like they’re hoping for a lifeline.

There’s nothing Luke can do, even if he hates himself for it. Instead, he sinks to one knee like the others, but he keeps his head up, eyes on Y/N until they’re physically separated by Chiron leading Percy and Y/N away. After that, Luke is left to stumble back home by himself, wondering why it hurts like a blade pierced between his ribs to notice that Y/N’s things have already been gathered and removed from the Hermes cabin.

Y/N and Percy sit by themselves at dinner that evening, as per tradition. Luke has never known Y/N to have a problem talking to people; seats by them are highly coveted at every meal, but you wouldn’t know that now. Y/N sits up perfectly straight, spine resolute and unflinching. Percy musters up the occasional effort to ask a question or two, but Y/N answers everything in monosyllabic words, making it clear that they want nothing to do with him.

Luke doesn’t get a chance to talk to them until the next day. Ever since the hellhound incident, Chiron has recommended that teams of demigods with more sword experience under their belts go search the woods for more monsters, just in case. Luke isn’t going to tell anyone that they don’t have to worry about that, obviously, but he isn’t about to pass up a chance to see Y/N.

He chooses Y/N as his patrol partner and they set out into the forest in search of certain death. Luke side eyes Y/N as they go, unable to stop himself from searching for clues that they’ve always been a child of Poseidon. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve got this familiar scent of salt and sea air, or a bit of wildness in their eyes that could only ever remind Luke of the untamed ocean. Then again, it could just be Poseidon amplifying those qualities in his elder child, trying to make it seem as if Y/N had his blessing all along. It wouldn’t surprise Luke if that were the case.

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to catch onto what he’s trying to do, though. “Spot any drastic differences in my appearance?” They ask, one brow raised, “what, did the old man dye my hair blue to match the waves?”

Luke snorts. “I don’t think anyone would be foolish enough to try that, even a god.”

Y/N laughs along with him, but their smile fades soon enough. “So? Am I completely and utterly different now that I’ve been claimed? All this time of waiting for it, surely something should have changed.”

Luke shakes his head decisively. “You’re still Y/N in every way.”

“No kidding,” Y/N says bitterly, “it’s because I was never important to Poseidon. Not really. He was already going to claim Percy and felt bad, so he got me too. He probably wants a pawn, someone he can sacrifice instead of Percy and feel appropriately big-hearted about it.”

Luke can’t say he’s surprised to hear Y/N so upset. It can’t feel good, knowing that the only reason your godly parent finally noticed you was because of someone else. “He could have done it so much earlier. The fact that he waited this long to claim you isn’t great, to say the least.”

Y/N’s lips curl with a sneer. “No, it’s just fantastic. I gave up on him, you know? Sometimes I liked to pretend that my claiming might happen, but we all knew the truth. I accepted my fate as an unclaimed demigod forever, and just when I was finally appreciating it, he goes and does this to me. Now I have to spend the rest of my days in this empty, gloomy cabin with a kid I don’t even know. I feel closer to the other Hermes kids and they’re not even my family. Hell, they are my family, just not by the godly side, but for some reason that pales in comparison with some stranger from Manhattan.”

Luke reaches out an arm to pull Y/N closer by their shoulders. “You’re not done with us Hermes kids, obviously. Cabin Eleven is still yours, even if you’re no longer unclaimed. If you get sick of Jackson, we’d be glad to have you back.”

“Even though you need all the empty space you can get?” Y/N asks doubtfully.

“Well,” Luke says as casually as he can, “we mainly just tell that to the others to scare them off. You’re one of us, Y/N.” He pauses, then forces out the last bit in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “You’re the only one I want there with me. I miss you.”

Y/N looks up at him, eyes soft. “I miss you too.”

“It’s stupid, though, isn’t it?” Luke mutters, “we’re at the same camp, I can see you whenever.”

“It’s not the same, though,” Y/N muses, “I might take you up on that offer, though. Just warning you.”

“I look forward to it,” Luke promises.

They talk for a while longer about sword fighting practice and demigod rivalries and other nonsense. Even after they go back to their respective activities, though, Luke can’t fight a pang in his chest. Y/N isn’t his anymore, not in the way that they used to belong to each other in a way that only misfits do. He’s Hermes, they’re Poseidon, and times will never be the same again.

Luke has always liked the relentless babble of the Hermes cabin, but today is a different story. Instead of washing away his troubles on an endless stream of chatter, it only serves to grate against his nerves. Luke waits until no one is watching, then pulls himself out of a nearby window and up to the roof in one swift movement. No one sees him go, no one will follow. At last, he can be alone.

Or, he’s alone until someone touches down on the roof. Luke sits there, legs swinging over the edge, and shuts his eyes. He can stretch this moment out into infinity while he’s waiting for Y/N to cross the roof to sit next to him. The goodbyes never come if the hellos never do, either.

Y/N places their hand on his shoulder, warm and steady as always. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Luke murmurs back. As if he would ever let them go.

The lights are off when he slips inside once more. It’s a blessing, as no one notices Y/N follow him in. Hermes kids are usually quiet, best at sneaking around. It’s a trait Y/N has clearly picked up from him. Luke tries not to let it go to his head. Usually, he hates any evidence that his father has impacted him in some way, but for some reason he doesn’t mind it in Y/N.

It’s quiet in the cabin, so this is no time for conversation. Instead, Luke makes his way over to his bunk, holding out his arms for Y/N to join him. The night passes in the same fashion as many before it: the two of them intertwined like thread, heads against shoulders and legs together. Y/N falls asleep first, but Luke stays awake a while longer, cursing this world for not giving him what he needs to live through it in peace.

This is the beginning of the end, he thinks. He thought that maybe getting claimed would ease Y/N’s anger, but it only ignited it. That makes Luke furious in turn. If the gods are only going to use Y/N as a pawn, well, Luke will clearly have to stop them before they try anything of the sort. None of the immortals care about their children, but Luke does. Luke always will.

He makes himself a promise before his eyes shut that night, even swears it on the River Styx. Their revenge will come. The gods will know their names, and not just as tools to claim when the time is right. Luke will make the Olympians do right by him, by Y/N, by all of them. They have no idea what’s coming.

pjo tag list: @w1shes43, @fadedver

#luke castellan #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan oneshot #pjo #pjo imagines #pjo x reader #pjo oneshot #pjo luke #pjo luke imagines #pjo luke x reader #pjo luke oneshot

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queenimmadolla · 1 year

Note

ive just seen a tweet that gave me major penny vibes 😭

‘aunty i need help’

‘what with?’

‘the swan’

there was a swan in their living area 🫣

this cracked me up because it’s something I’ve thought about writing before just not with a swan. we’ve got a goose problem in my area during this time of year and those bitches are annoying and mean, so I changed it a little to match up since this ask is too much of a sign for me to ignore, hope you like it!

Duck, Duck, Goose

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader fluff)

part of the pennyverse

“Mom.”

“Mama.”

“Mommy.”

“Mom.”

Finally, Penny got tired of simply calling for you, choosing to reach out and poke you repeatedly as well.

You stirred with a groan, shifting around in the bed to face where she stood at your side. It was difficult but you pried an eye open to peer at her and she looked innocent enough.

You’d been taking a nap (first sign that something was wrong, you weren’t ever woken up from your naps to something normal) after having unpacked the last box, making this little house officially the Munson home. Well, kind of. With Corroded Coffin finally catching some attention, you and Eddie hadn’t wanted to buy an actual house yet or set down permanent roots in case (and god, you hoped it would happen) something big happened to them. So, after about two years of renting an apartment, you simply switched to renting a house.

Of course that meant you had to go through the annoyance that was moving again, and with two kids. You loved them but they were essentially useless in the process.

Wayne, having learned how to walk and clumsily run about, in his excitement had even managed to knock over an entire box of fragile items the other day. Eddie was distracting him, playing a couple of songs outside on the porch swing with him in his lap while you got the last of your stuff settled.

You thought you could squeeze in a half hour of rest, but apparently not.

“What is it, Pen?”

“I need help.”

“With what?” You sighed, pushing yourself up out of bed. You’d switched into some sleep shorts earlier and figured she’d spilled some juice or something, so pajamas would suffice.

“The swan.”

You should have been paying attention to what she was saying but you were too distracted, having noticed Wayne was by her side. He was too small to appear unless you looked over the high bed or got up. Wasn’t he supposed to be with Eddie?

“Where’s your dad?” You asked, brows furrowing in concern.

Wayne just grinned, putting his fingers in his mouth (another habit he picked up from Eddie).

“Owsigh.”

“Let’s go find him then.” You ran a hand through his ‘curl hawk’, as Eddie had dubbed it, while you slipped past him. Penny found it oddly important to be ahead of you so she ran from the room before you could make it to the door.

Wayne trailed behind you, babbling nothing in particular. He and Penny were proving to be opposites. She’d taken to words faster than she’d taken to motor skills while Wayne had an easier time with his motor skills than he did with talking. He’d simply been watching Eddie pace around the living room one day when he’d decided to stand up and walk, toddling after him. There was no real error, either, just surprisingly calculated footsteps. He’d been a little clumsy—that was to be expected—but for the most part he didn’t really fall. He refused to say much, though, only voicing things when pointing failed him.

Penny stood at the end of the hallway which led into the living room, blinking lazily.

You were about to ask her what was wrong when you happened to glance into the living room, once, twice and then shrieked, backing up until your back hit the wall.

“PENNY!”

“What?”

“Why is there a wild animal in my living room!?”

“‘S a swan.”

“No, it is not!”

There was no graceful looking swan in your living room, just a big, ugly canadian goose slowly moseying its way around the coffee table like it owned the place.

It turned its head in your direction, its beady eyes looking at you, probably, and you shrieked again. You heard the sound of hurried footsteps outside before Eddie appeared from the very much so open front door, looking slightly disheveled.

“What’s wrong?” He demanded, eyes roaming over you, Penny and Wayne to make sure none of you were harmed.

You jabbed a finger in the direction of the bird, just standing and staring at you menacingly.

“Oh, what the fuck? Oh, shit. Daddy said bad words, don’t say those.” Eddie scratched the back of his head as he stared at the goose occupying his living room. “How the heck did that get in here?”

“I was about to ask you that.” You hissed, glaring at him.

“Don’t look at me, I fell asleep on the porch swing with Wayne.” You directed a pointed look at the two year old behind you. “Well, he was with me!”

“She came in.” Penny chirped, brushing a curl out of her face.

You both turned to her.

“What?” Eddie asked, crouching down so he was closer to eye level with her.

“The swan. She was waiting outside, so I let her in.” Penny was referring to your porch door. One of the reasons you liked the house so much was because of the porch, it was closed off and secured with screens and a door so you could let the kids out for some fresh air without them wandering off.

“Penny, what have we told you about opening the door?” Eddie chided with a frown, not at all entertained with the idea of his little girl letting people in after drilling her about stranger danger.

“Not to open it for strangers. But I didn’t, daddy. She’s a swan. Not a people.” Penny seemed almost smug about having outsmarted him.

Eddie was baffled, mouth opening and closing as he struggled for a response.

“Baby, that’s a goose, not a swan.” It was the only thing he could think of.

“Oh.” Immediately, Penny seemed less interested in it, rolling her eyes.

The goose squawked, flapping its wings as it hopped onto your coffee table.

“Eddie get that stupid duck out of here!” You yelled, fearing for the cleanliness of your furniture. You’d clean up after your kids’ accidents but not some bird’s.

“‘S a goose, mom.”

“Yes, I know that, Penny.”

“You called it a duck.”

“Baby, are you afraid of the duck?” Eddie turned his attention to you, brown eyes alight with mirth.

“‘S a goose.”

“No! I am not afraid of the duck! I just—it’s gonna poop on the table! Get it out!”

“Gus.” This time Wayne mumbled, squatting down to mimic his dad as he observed the bird.

“Oh, but I think you are. Tell you what, you just admit it, and I’ll get it out of the house.” Eddie stood back up and leaned against the wall with a smirk.

“I told you I’m not afraid.” You glowered, eyes darting from Eddie to the stupid goose.

“Then go pick it up and put it outside.” You were surprised Eddie’s face didn’t just split in half with how wide his smirk was, even Penny was giggling at your expense.

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

“I will.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Then go do it.”

You huffed and slowly made your way to the goose, halting every time its attention was on you, the sound of your family snickering in the background. When it went back to looking around at its surroundings you leaned down and reached out only to jump back with a scream as it craned it’s neck around to hiss (how the fuck could a bird hiss???) and snap its beak at your hands.

You ran back to Eddie, cowering in his arms with your face hidden in his chest as it shook with laughter. Penny was laughing so hard she’d fallen over, feet kicking against the ground and Wayne had joined her, clutching his little tummy as he squirmed around with glee.

“My poor baby,” Eddie pressed his lips to your forehead, grinning against it as he tried to calm himself enough to speak. “Is the bird being mean to you?”

You didn’t respond, just burrowed your face further into the soft material of his hoodie as you nodded.

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you.” He gave you a squeeze, hand reaching down to pat your ass before he stepped around you to handle the bird. You watched, as he easily grabbed it, tucking its wings in and gripping its beaks so it couldn’t move its head around, then he disappeared outside and returned a few moments later, smug and without the goose.

Penny and Wayne’s roaring laughter had dulled down to giggling as they stared up at you, looking like they’d almost exhausted themselves with it.

“I don’t want to hear a single word.” You warned him as he neared you, sporting a devilish smirk.

It wasn’t Eddie you had to be worried about, Penny made a large squawking sound behind you, astoundingly similar to that stupid goose’s and you practically leaped into Eddie’s arms, setting them all off again.

This time you joined them, a hand over your eyes as Eddie held you.

“New rule, Penny. You are so not allowed to open doors that unlock anymore.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #dilf!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #girl dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #pennyverse #pennyverse asks #pennyverse headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic

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peachywontyell · 5 months

Text

ive had this bouncing around in my head for a while, so here we are.

i am a sucker for pretty boys with kind brown eyes and jaime fits that description perfectly...so i decided to give him a lot of pining (that is definitely reciprocated), he has to be a big brave boy and confess 🫶🏾 also, this is placed before the events in the movie !

inspired by

hanging out with jaime has always been very warm, cozy, comfortable. ever since you were children when you'd spend weekends riding your bikes around the neighborhood, only to crash at one of your houses after having way too much food. it happened so frequently that it got to the point where it just was the new normal for both of your families (impromptu get togethers were very common).

the friendship you guys had only grown stronger with each year that passed and well- there were definitely feelings there that weren't strictly platonic now. you were trying your hardest to push them away though, and jaime was having the same issues...however neither of you dared to even threathen the sanctity of the bond shared by confessing. that is until one summer came along, you guys had gone to different universities, and even though you called and texted daily, summer was when you guys could actually hang out like the old days. and here you were, having gone to pick up jaime from the airport with the rest of the reyes. as he walked through the gate you let his family say their hellos first- it's safe to say he almost drowned in hugs and kisses, and when you finally got to say hello you didn't hold back with the bear hug either.

you missed him dearly, and the weird feeling of anxiety, excitement and happiness settled in your stomach as he squeezed you back and actually just fully picking you up. it made the feeling in your stomach even stronger.

"JAIME DIOS MÍO BÁJAME"

"Que no, don't wanna"

"okay so if that's how this is gonna go, cárgame bien, señor"

suddenly you guys were in your own world, talking and laughing and everyone could clearly see what was happening here. milagro was gonna have a field day with the teasing as soon as she had a chance. he ended up putting you down- but only after he carried you all the way to the car. it was embarrassing yes, but now as embarrassing as the older couple that chuckled as you walked past and talked to themselves in hushed voices about 'how sweet young love is' and how they wished they could go back in time and experience it all over again.

that got you both blushing...and made the drive back home for lunch a bit...strange. nothing really changed, you still sat together and chatted, but jaime couldn't stop thinking about what they had said. did you guys actually look like a couple? should he had said something to them? the fact that he didn't mind if they thought so made him feel warm and fuzzy.

two weeks pass, and while you've somehow managed to push away those fuzzy feelings, things have definitely flipped for jaime- and milagro did not help one bit. she woke up much earlier than he did, you did too, and it usually meant that as soon as he walked out into the kitchen he'd see you just having breakfast.

"buenas morning" you say, trying not to laugh cause his hair looked bonkers, but even if you found it hilarious, it was still endearing, and the fuzzy feelings you had to fight every single day before meeting him were back and they were looking for vengeance. and when he almost put his full body weight on top of you for a hug not caring that you were in the middle of eating? well, you felt like you were going to die. "mornin...." he didn't move off. "jaime." "Hmmm?" "get off of me and go shower, tenemos que encontrarnos con el grupo in like an hour". with one last, extremely dramatic sigh, he moves off and does as told. it's not like he didn't want to spend the day with you and some of your other friends, they were his friends too, but he would much rather stay in and chill.

not even two hours later and you guys are at the little picnic area everyone agreed to meet up at, playing silly games, chatting and just catching up! and jaime just wasn't feeling it, he couldn't really pinpoint the reason why until he sees how talkative and close you are with one of the guys there. okay. that's fine. it's just a hangout, nothing is happening, you definitely aren't flirting with him. thank god someone called the guy over cause he didn't know how much he could take.

"so how'd the flirting go?" he thought he sounded casual, calm, normal. he did not sound casual, calm or normal. he sounded upset and looked like a sad dog. "what flirting- what the hell happened to you? why do you look so sad? ¿qué pasó?" "hm? nothing." he shook his head, making you squint. okay, if he didn't want to tell you, then you'd just come up with absurd reasons as to why he would be upset. "¿tas celoso?" funny how you got it right first try. you don't know that, though. "what? no- ¿qué?" he prays to god the blush creeping up his neck isn't noticeable, prays it doesn't betray him. "Ayyyyy si es eso you don't have to be, tu sabes que you're irreplaceable" you laugh and god is definitely on his side cause you're called over a few second later by someone of the order people and he can feel his heart beating so fast he fears its gonna burst through his chest.

the hangout went by smoothly, he genuinely couldn't be happier, even if at first he didn't want to be there. he has to admit, he did miss his friends, so he's glad he could spend some time with them. now you guys are laying on his bed, chismeando and just debriefing when the topic of him being "jelous" came up again. maybe he could just do it. he knew it was risky, but....he was willing to take the chance. "....you know what? maybe i was. maybe i was very jelous, maybe i still kind-of am." he felt you sitting up and all he could do was pull a pillow over his face and keep this shit rolling "you've always made me feel so comfortable and...warm, and ive always loved you, but at some point i think it turned into love...? does that make sense- no- it's fine- okay- look i just- de verdad que me gustas mucho y pues no sé- i don't wanna fuck this up aunque creo que ya lo jodí-" he huffs and sits up to face you, looking embarrassed and flustered "you're so special to me and i really don't want to mess up the friendship we have, okay? but i'd just...i'd really like to be yours."

you aren't sure if you should just kiss him or shake him by the shoulders. so you settle for taking his hand in yours, feeling your face grow warmer- if that's even possible after that confession. "jaime, look at me." that boy is holding onto the pillow for dear life, using it to still obscure his face while he shakes his head. he's trembling. you use your other hand to grab his face and look at you "please, just kiss me" "really?" "si-" and he does, like he's been starving. he almost doesn't let you pull back even though you both need to breathe. "jaime mi amor, you will always be my favorite pretty boy and im so happy i can finally tell you."

#peachy thinks thoughts!#peachy talks into the void!#yeah im upset with this but i said id post it ://#still kinda cute though :') i fuck heavy with the yearning and cute crushes #and jaime is just fun to imagine in cute situations like that #jaime reyes #jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle (2023)#plus size reader #latina reader #again reitero ese tag y el de plus size #anyway #hope whoever reads this enjoys it #sorry its a lil slow and ends abruptly i would have kept it going but i wanted to keep it wholesome #ALSO #Spanglish #!!!!! YEAHHHHHH LETS GOOOO

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

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So Im currently in a complicated situation.

I (19f) am studying abroad in europe for the summer. Ive been here for over a month and struggled to make connections with my peers here because im socially awkard and struggle to talk to people. Most of the time I've done things alone and have had no issues.

A little into summer, my mom asked me about my twin sister coming to visit and us going to a couple of different cities. I agreed because I figured she would never actually bother to travel to europe herself and I wanted her to have the opportunity.

The thing about me and my twin is that we do not get along and have not for years, I moved away for college and haven't had to interact with her for extended periods of time for over a year. So, I guess I forgot just how bad it is to be around her. She's rude, has not stopped making small jabs at me, and has complained about everything we've done.

It came to a head this weekend, she arrived on thursday, I've been constantly stressed because I can't relax around her. She kept on playing things outloud while I was trying to sleep at 2 am, which although seems small was just the tipping point of everything i had bottled up over the past couple days. Which caused me to have a small meltdown. She then told me after we got into the fight the whole reason she came was for me so that I could travel, because my mom hadn't wanted me to travel alone and I hadn't made any friends in my program.

I never asked her to do this and would've traveled by myself to where I wanted to go whether or not my mom approved. The morning after the fight we had to catch a train and it was taking way to long for a uber to come get us so I said we should take the subway. She refused, I told her I wasn't going to miss the train and left her alone in a unfamiliar city to take the subway to the station. She made it to the station luckly, I found out that she has no intention of taking any form of public transportation the whole time she is here and instead is going to spend hundreds of dollars on uber.

Over the time shes been here its become clear that she flat out has no interest in being here. She doesnt care about the monuments, the food, or doing literally anything. Maybe occasionally taking pictures of herself or fashion but even then the interest is limited. She also genuinely seems to know nothing about Europe, or what she was signing up to do.

Im frustrated because she is ruining what may be my only chance to explore europe. My mom has tried to mediate but its clear that she doesn't want to be here and that I don't want her here. We havent stopped fighting and im exhausted, im still in school and have difficult classes.

My mom is partically pissed at me for leaving her alone in the city but I told her I would do it again. I think that she should just fly home and I should do the rest of the trip alone. My mom has always been overprotective and one of the city's we are planning on going to has been having issues but I still think I should be fine by myself.

AITA For wanting my sister to leave despite her coming for me, for leaving her alone in an unfamiliar city, and planning to do it again?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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werebutch · 4 months

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I cant wait to move out im going to suffer so much but ill also have so much that i dont right now. Im so glad i found my love of cooking recently its so so fulfilling. I’m so excited for school and im so nervous. I’m so excited to make friends again and have a schedule. Live in my own little world. It’s like so cheesy but im kind of finally starting to get over my thing about dying young. Like since i was 12 i planned to die before i graduated high school (and at 12, i hoped before i completed 8th grade) but its been almost 2 years since i got my diploma. Now i have my little bunnies and a lot of passion for new and old hobbies etc. like up until a little while ago i could not envision a future for myself at all, its like i was genuinely incapable. And i still kinda am, but its slowly getting better at least for now. And idk im a major loser im pretty much freeloading right now i dont really have friends and I haven’t dated in like.. 4 years? Which is insane. But also like a lot of other people are major losers. I’d go as far as to say most people are losers. and ive told myself this so much im starting to believe it so thats good i guess. The suicidal ideation hasn’t gone away but i can deal with it better. Or at least distract myself better. Anyways ive also experimented with art so much the last couple years and it only makes me want to try more mediums. Since becoming less depressed my intense love for the earth just keeps inspiring me more and more and i think i finally have a very abstract idea of what i want to do with my career. Maybe. At least for now i do, which is good. It’ll change and thats fine. I’m honestly really worried about this high ive had for the past couple weeks because im really scared it will all go away. I’m not usually this optimistic and its scaring me big time. I still have so much mental trouble with my body and my relationship with my family those are like the major things. And the loneliness of course. I just really hope i dont like ? Crash? And start feeling horrible again. I dont know what im saying anymore LMFAO i should really write in my journal im just lazy. If u read this all youre a real werebutch fan. Make me feel less scared of college please

#i dont knowwwwwww monkey pic

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belovedstarrs · 4 months

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do you even care?! part two

• pairing : geto x fem!reader

• tags : mentions of drinking, talks about verbal fighting, (i dont know anymore.)

• a/n : i wanted to finish this tonight (tech. morning) but i got caught up playing valo w a new friend i made. 7am slump hitting hard and i just wanna post this and sleep.

• w/c : 783

you found yourself at utahimes place for the night. you were in her spare bedroom but still couldnt sleep no matter how comfortable you were, you couldnt get that fight off your mind. could you have been more mature about it?

the next morning

you felt like you barely got any sleep. you needed to go back to your house and pick up a fresh uniform from your closet. the only problem was could you face geto? of course not, you didnt wanna be the first to say anything. you decided to still go anyways cause you cant go to jujutsu high wearing some sweats and a t-shirt.

you found yourself walking to you and getos shared apartment and youre pulling out the keys from your pocket. you were absolutely praying geto wasnt in there. when you opened the door you found getos keys & shoes to be gone. you quietly whispered to yourself "yes!" as you close the front door and walk to your shared bedroom.

you quickly showered and grabbed your uniform as you left the house. you were gonna be a little late but youre sure the second-years wouldnt mind you being a couple minutes late, right?

you quickly ran into your class as you apologized for being late. you looked at your schedule and sighed out of relief as you saw it was gonna be a easy day. maki and panda had a mission together, inumaki had a mission, and okkotsu was overseas so he wasnt here. you let everyone leave as you relaxed a little. still thinking about what happened last night.

you left your classroom to go to the teachers lounge to grab a cup of coffee. you seriously need that right now, but as you walked out your classroom you saw him, geto. you had to build up the courage real quick to walk past him. you two shared glances as you bumped shoulders in the hall and once you passed him you felt embarrassment wash over you.

once you grabbed your coffee you sat at the couch in the teachers lounge on your phone scrolling on instagram. god, you felt jealous of all these girls finding happy relationships.

after work

you found yourself walking up to your shared apartment again. youre planning to grab some of your things so you can stay at utahimes place. when you opened the door you found geto sitting at the table and he looked like he was in distress. his face lit up when he saw you.

"y/n, i was hoping you would stop by. may we talk some things over at a nice dinner tonight?" you looked at him confused. where was he getting all this? "pardon?" you said. geto responded with "i dont need to repeat myself, but ill say it anyways. we are going out to dinner tonight to talk things over. i would dress nicely."

you felt confused, but you obliged. you went to your shared bathroom and got yourself ready. you put on a dark green tight dress and dark green heels to match. geto was wearing a dress shirt and a tie with some nicer pants. "why are we dressing so nicely?" you asked. all geto responded with was "cant we dress nice for a nicer restaurant?" you sighed at his answer.

you two arrived at the restaurant and you ordered some red wine. once the waiter left you spoke up first. geto seemed nervous. "so, what do you have to say for yourself. i believe im owed a explanation." geto sighed as he stood up and reached for his pocket then pulled out a ring box.

y/n l/n, will you marry me? "i promise ill explain after." you looked at him with shock, tears threatening to flow from your eyes. did geto truly love you? have you just been overthinking everything? "yes, yes suguru ill marry you!" you crash into his lips passionately and after he puts the ring on your finger. it fits perfectly. how did he ever get your ring size?

"y/n im sorry for anything ive made you feel over the last couple of months.." ive been planning this exact day out for about 3 months and right before it happens you blew up on me. its true, i had been drinking but it mostly was from the stress of planning. i just got overwhelmed was all. it was true though what we both said yesterday. my phone died and i got a new mission, but i finished up and started drinking. im sorry, i shouldve just gone home." tears burst out from your eyes your relived geto does care for you and your relationship.

made by @belovedstarrs do not copy or use in any way without permission

(thanks kal for the idea to make him propose i was very stuck on what to do)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk anime #jjk geto #geto suguru #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #suguru geto #jujutsu geto #geto x y/n #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #fanfic #writing

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modernghostfare · 5 months

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Hello.. can we get more ghostmace headcanons. If you ever wrote any pls link them too...

:)c YESSS i love talking abt maceghost.. i know ive made a bunch of sporadic posts about them but i havent done a like dedicated hcs post. i feel like often im struggling to understand the narrative of their past but generally i keep the same vibe to it all.

mace is for sure the more level headed of the two only because relationships and love freak ghost out. ive mentioned on a post like years ago hes traumatized by watching his mother stick with his father and i still believe this. hes like scared to be in a position where something Isn't working anymore but hes too emotional to cut it off so he self sabotages the relationship so mace will get pissed and stop talking to him.

in the past (as i mentioned in another post) mace Did also feed into this. he had a good home life but his own personal issues and anger at more outward issues caused him to like. seek an outlet for this sort of petty squabbling. and he found it in ghost. until he got tired of festering and being pissed off all the time and decided to actually like Do Shit he feels good about. and he broke up with ghost.

now in modern times where theyve caught up with each other it's like a weird mash of their past and them both being more mature. ghost struggles more because hes very adverse to actually improving himself and how he feels about himself bc hes like. hes Given Up on being a person. while mace has done a lot of healing.

like the toxic factor of maceghost Is Ghost at this point to me. but theres a lot of love there bc theres a lot of mutual respect and, like, easy familiarity there. mace understands how ghost works at his core.

so like. when ghost is being Normal and not anxious they literally just. like. Click? mace can extremely put ghost at ease with just his presence. and mace in turn rly enjoys his company bc a calm ghost is actually just sort of casually funny.

and ghost does like making mace laugh i imagine mace has a really beautiful smile bc he has resting bitch face so when it lights up it's very special.

ghost also i think would be 100% willing to take his mask off in a room of just him and mace. no special occasion needed he's just comforted. mace has already seen it over many, many years.

because they're like an Old couple i think theyve been on and off since their mid twenties for ghost and late twenties for mace. WHICH is another reason mace like wont entertain the childish picking ghost does theyre literally too old.

but he does play along a little. sometimes. old habits die hard. if it's petty mace will have a back and forth w ghost for old times sake its just how ghost communicates sometimes. emotions are just hard for ghost mace understands this. to put all of this simply.

i will say tho if more comes out and they end up more antagonistic than my current read i will still be a huge stan i love when dudes try to fuck and kill each other 💪🥰💕

speaking of fucking tho. tw for implying sexual assault also i just got kinda nasty sowwy.

LIKE we know ghost has a complicated relationship w sex a lot of his past history w it is like traumatic. i think he was already promiscuous as a teen bc he already had issues from his upbringing so hes like. well experienced. and he likes sex. and he likes fucking mace bc his dick is thick, hes good with his hands, and he's not afraid to be rough with him and take their time bc mace likes to be edged and when ghost is rly into it he Likes it to Last esp if he can cum more than once. he likes when his pussy is sore.

BUT ALSOO theyre both like. verse esp w each other. ghost likes topping more tho. he likes fucking mace for being a little bit vocal and just. like. huge. ghost loves bending him over and watching his fat bounce. ghost would blow off any task and anyone to go fuck him.

but also, bc its ghost and i think if the wrong buttons get pressed in the wrong order and it goes sour he gets quiet and, like, disassociates. and mace keeps watch for that bc he doesn't want to put ghost in that state. its not fun

#asks #anon #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #mwmp #maceghost #i love them literally i think about them all the time.#ive said maybe 50% of this before but The Vibes #Important.#i think also i said like and literally a million times brothers im sorry

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star-trek-fandom-confessions · 4 months

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Did some actual research into confessions #240: An unreputable site stated that Anson Mount met his future wife in 2011 (she would have been 16) and that they started dating immediately after. This immediately set off alarm bells, not about Mount but about the site.

Firstly, it says a mutual friend introduced them. A mutual friend of a 16 and 38 year old? Thought they'd be a happy couple? That's highly unlikely and extremely weird and where are her parents?

Secondly, Anson Mount was in two, maybe three, different relationships over the course of time that he was supposedly dating her. His past relationships show that he's not like Dicaprio dating younger and younger as he goes. He usually dated people in his age range and his wife is the outlier.

So the only conclusive thing I can draw from any information online is that in 2018, he at age 45 married someone 23. The earliest image of her on his Instagram I found was from 2016 (she'd have been 21) . Mount mostly posts about his dog, which relatable.

The rest of this has absolutely no source or backing, and it can't even be proven that they met in 2011, let alone anything else. They clearly don't talk about their personal lives (probably for exactly this reason), but from her Instagram, they seem perfectly fine (and not in the "fake" perfectly fine way which I'm familair with from friends in bad situations).

So I think people need to just stay in their own business and not try to make a moral dilemma over everything another person does or doesn't do particularly because the internet's favorite pastime is to lie about things.

Truthfully, the weirdest thing about Anson Mount is that he's Anson Mount IV, and his brother is Anson Mount III. Sir, what is wrong with your father, Anson Mount II? He named his children the same thing.

Posting this as an answer to a previous confession.

#confession 240 #not a confession #response to confession

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mybuttonfelloff · 3 months

Text

Okok so we all know the Sims 3 is like, not super popular and is also notoriously buggy BUT on the off chance anyone is like me and loves it, i have some tips that have greatly helped my game run better. I also am including links to any specific creators or sites I recommend. Tips under the cut bc it's a long post, but I tried to be thorough! You will need to understand like, basic reading comprehension and basic computer-y stuff (downloading files, unpacking files, dragging and dropping into folders, editing the occasional file text) but most stuff I link to have tutorials for adding mods into the game and whatnot.

I really hope this helps people like me who love TS3! but know the game is.... outdated for basically all computers. These are all things ive learned over the past couple years, so I hope this can be a helpful resource for anyone wanting to play TS3.

Number one will probably be using this tutorial to make the game recognize your current computer specs. Because the game is, yknow, old, it wont recognize newer drivers and whatnot. This tutorial will allow the game to actually recognize them and therefore run better https://www.carls-sims-4-guide.com/forum/index.php?topic=26753.0

Nraas will be your best friend for managing things in-game. It's similar to MCCC for the sims 4 but you completely customize which like, modules you use. I highly highly recommend specifically Story Progression and Master Controller https://www.nraas.net/community/home

LazyDuchess is a goddess and I highly Highly recommend her Smooth Patch mod. It makes the game run so much better. Also she has so many other mods that make things like CAS load faster plus a search function for Build/Buy https://www.patreon.com/lazyduchess/posts

ModTheSims is a great resource for Sims 3 Mods as well, definitely recommend making an account and perusing their sims 3 mods https://modthesims.info/

Speaking of ModTheSims, I highly recommend Regul Save Cleaner to... clean up the extra data in your saves https://modthesims.info/download.php?t=652440

Also on ModTheSims theres an excellent bug fixing mod from Simler90, it touches on a bunch of like longtime bugs that havent been fixed (like the firefighter career being bugged) https://modthesims.info/download.php?t=659969

Make sure that before playing or after adding any new mods, delete the files: caspartcache.package, compositorcache.package, scriptcache.package, simcompositorcache.package, and socialcache.package. If not, the game WILL load slowly and/or crash. These files are found in Documents\ElectronicArts\The Sims 3. Not sure about Steam bc I use the EA app, but I assume its a similar path.

Save every half hour or so to prevent crashes killing too much progress. And don't play for longer than an hour per initial load (like, play for an hour, save, quit and load the game again). I find it helps the game run smoother when you dont play in 3 hour stretches.

make a backup saves folder for your saves. Im not sure why, but i found that keeping only one save in the actual saves helps it loads faster and smoother.

Also when saving your game, ALWAYS use Save As. If you Save As, you wont have to worry about accidentally corrupting your saves, which happens a lot

Also, when you're about to save, move the save you loaded into your backup saves folder BEFORE saving. I find it crashes/corrupts way less if its not trying to compete with the other save

also keep your sims personal inventory fairly empty (like 10 items max) to prevent a known bug from occurring when saving. Use a storage box or something to store collectibles like gems, plants, etc.

WHEN IN CAS WAIT UNTIL THE LITTLE FLOWER LOOKING ICON IS BLUE TO SCROLL THROUGH THE CATEGORY. When it turns blue, all the items have properly loaded, so it wont lag nearly as much.

Prev point applies to build/buy, wait for the category to load before messing with things. You'll save yourself a lot of stress

Dont use 4 speed, i find it just lags and stops progressing time. I use 2 or 3 max, even when sleeping

In BuyDebug you can buy these invisible lights that make the lighting much much better in game. Just have an actual light, like a lamp or outdoor light, to be able to change brightness and color in Live mode. Bc.... Its invisible so non-clickable

#sims 3 #sims3 #thesims #thesims3 #sims tips #sims 3 tips #sims 3 mods #the sims 3 #sims game tips #sims 3 game tips

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