#In Defence of Friction

[luxe-pauvre]

We spend a great deal of time lamenting the role that specific platforms and pieces of software play in sowing discord in society—I certainly have—but it’s worth widening the lens in order to examine the hardware that houses nearly all of it. For it is the presence of powerful computers in our pockets, much more than any one platform or app, that sets the tone for our society. We are everywhere connected, and yet we are unable to connect. As our phones become ever more ubiquitous in the daily business of our lives—helping us to buy plane tickets, post selfies, order tacos and town cars, or to dash off emails and text messages to friends and colleagues—the ease with which we complete each task reinforces the fiction that efficiency and convenience have intrinsic value. That fiction, in turn, gives weight to the belief that the smartphone is an indispensable appendage for each of us. Technology companies depend on our embrace of this myth, for a loss of faith would signal an existential threat to the devices’ manufacturers, and to all the software makers whose products depend on our fanatical devotion to convenience at all costs. And so it is that we are, minute by minute, fed pabulum laced with little hits of instant gratification, Huxley’s Soma to keep us dazed and obedient. It’s a world in which we get the hook of “God Only Knows” on a recursive loop, shorn of context. (This is not a metaphor. Go to a streaming service or digital music store; they’ll no doubt have the audio sample cued up to the chorus.) Me, I long for the searching harmonic journey, the spiritual quest, the slippery chromaticism that prepares the sonic parting of clouds, that makes that delayed resolution feel like nothing less than catharsis.

Gabriel Kahane, In Defence of Friction

[hencheri]

Mark and cock warming. Maybe he slaps the reader 🫶🏾

18+. mdni.

hard dom!mark :(

.

mark doesn't fuck slow and steady. he fucks like he can never get enough — fucks like his dick is going to fall off. it never ends without a mess either, whether it's his cum everywhere on your body or the bottom half of his face covered in your arousal, there's always a mess.

but there are those days where mark wants to be intimate, where he needs you as close to him as possible. sometimes he's very tired and he just needs to relax with some cuddles — and in mark's book, cuddling means cock warming.

he swears he doesn't have any dirty intentions, but he's still rock hard just at the thought of having your walls tightly hugging his cock (though, to his defence, he has to be hard to slide inside of you).

so you reluctantly agreed, letting him play with your pussy a little bit to get you wet enough for him. your back is facing him, his pelvis totally flushed against your ass with his arms wrapped around your waist.

surprisingly, mark is very silent, and you're the one who's bothered, face burning hot and teeth sinking into your bottom lip. his cheek is laid on your shoulder, eyes closed, listening to your breathing that is clearly irregular.

you shift a little, creating some friction and getting mark out of his slumber.

he tightly grips your hips, pulling you back on his cock. "stop squirming around," he groans, his breath hitting your uncovered neck, making you shiver slightly.

"sorry..." you mumble back in response, feeling a little embarrassed for not being able to just relax. how is he so calm with your pussy around him? he'd be pounding you down onto the mattress by now.

and just thinking about that has you clenching around mark involuntarily. he definitely felt that.

"baby." he warns you, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips, so, so close to your crotch.

you clench again, and he doesn't like that.

"what did i tell you?" he growls, delivering a sharp slap to your pussy, making you flinch out of surprise.

he takes a hold of your jaw, turning your face to the side so he can look you in the eye. you're speechless, only gulping down as mark looks really pissed off.

"you speak when talked to," he says through gritted teeth, glaring at you with angry eyes, eyebrows frowned. he presses down on your cheeks, and you wince out of pain, forcing your mouth open. "i'm not repeating myself ... what did i tell you?"

"to- to not move!" you say, trying to wiggle your face out of his painful hold, but mark follows your movement, steadying your head in place.

"why are you being a little brat? d'you always need me to dick you down?" he asks, his hand still remaining on your hips inching closer to your heat, nails sinking into your soft skin. "can't think straight with a cock in your stupid, little pussy, huh?"

that's rich coming from him when he's fucking you every chance he gets, but you won't comment on that if you don't want to be in more troubles.

"n-no," you manage to croak out, but it sounds a little sloppy due to your strained neck and mark's hand around your face.

"what was that?"

you inhale, taking in your breath, "no, i can't think straight, so you better fuck some sense into me."

and he chuckles right in your face, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a grin. he eyes you down, looking at your lips before going back up to your eyes.

"want it that bad, huh? little slut."

and he finally pushes you onto your stomach, holding your head down against the pillows. he immediately starts moving his hips back and forth, hard cock sliding between your walls, hitting all the right places that make you scream his name.

he spanks your ass, too, the sound of his skin hitting yours echoing in the room. mark doesn't go easy on you, and he doesn't hold back either, especially not since you quite literally asked him to fuck some sense into you. which he will gladly do.

[starryylies]

Simon who makes you ride his beefy abs after he comes home is so hot

Simon who comes home from deployment only to see your legs spread apart soft moans leaving your lips as you play with you swollen puffed up clit

It’s not your fault though, you were sooooooo horny. You missed him and his touch :(

But he didn’t like you seeing you touch yourself no not at all cuz,

Nothing compared to him and he needed to prove it to you

But since you’d been such a bad girl you ought to get a lil punishment right? :(

He comes over to you at the bed and picks you up effortlessly grabbing your hips placing them on his thick beefy stomach

His hairy tummy and his lil happy trail tickling your needy cunt,

‘Hump’ he commands,

“Why arentcha’ getting yourself off now huh princess?”

“Siii m sorry I missed you, I jus’ wanted to cum you whine pathetically for your defence :((“

“Ya missed me so much ight? Prove it.”

“Hump my stomach like the bitch you are”

Oh god you shouldn’t be so turned on by this, it’s so embarrassing omggg (>_<)

but god it feels so good, the friction provided by his thick beefy abs covered with a layer of fat.

God you’re so desperate.

So you comply and start humping his stomach like a good girl.

“Such a needy lil girl you are princess couldn’t even go a month without me eh?”

You’re so engrossed by the pleasure your poor brain can’t think of anythin else :(((

“Oh fuck princess you love this don’t ya”

He could feel the wet patch on his stomach as you grinded,

his hairy body getting covered in your heat.

“Ooo sii it feels so good , m so close”

“Beg for it sugar”

“Sii pleasepleasepleaseeeee, I’m so close I needa cum I want you I need you please lemme cum”

He smirks at your desperation,

he holds your hips down and starts rubbing on your swollen clit as he sees you approaching your orgasm.

“Good girl, you’re so close aren’t ya, rubbing on me.”

“Yess sii I’m so close I love you, I wanna cum m so so so closeee” you moan out pathetically

Your tongue is hanging out and you’re grinding so hard as you reach your orgasm.

As you cum simon gently holds you in his arms as he hugs you keeping you tightly wrapped up with him.

“Attagirl, see waitin for me to make ya cum way better.”

you look up to him giving a shy lil smile as you nod your head.

Si then tosses you over and unbuckles his pants,

You can see the large tent and a wet spot on his boxers.

Talking his throbbing cock out you can see the precum leaking from his tip.

His eyes are clouded with lust as he says,

“Your fingers can’t compare to this either can they now sugar? Lemme show you how much better it actually feels”

Oh you were in for a long night princess

[goldenwilliamson]

hard conversations | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: another angsty one featuring the game of 'we're not really strangers'. reader and leah end up having a fight about different feelings towards having kids and getting married. it turns out alright in the end but. does discuss poor relationship with parents/family.

word count: 1.9k

You and Leah sat down on the lounge, crossed legged and facing each other while you sipped on some wine. Leah's phone played music through the speaker and you had decided to play a little game that Leah had bought called 'We're Not Really Strangers'.

"So it gets us to ask each other thoughtful questions?" You asked, flicking through the red cards in the box.

"Yeah, it's supposed to help people feel more connected," Leah explained.

"Fun," you said, always happy to engage in a deep conversations.

You leant back on the lounge as Leah rifled through the cards, pulling out the first one.

"Alright, in one word, describe how you feel right now," Leah flicks the card with her other hand as she watches you expectantly.

"One word?" You sigh with a smile on your face, "Grateful."

"Grateful for what?" Leah asks.

"For a night in with you," you say, taking a sip of your wine. Leah lifts her glass off the coffee table and holds it out towards you.

As your glasses clink together Leah says, "I'm grateful for this too."

You're already enjoying this game, feeling excited over what questions might come up.

Your first question to ask Leah was 'How would you describe me to a stranger?'. She smirked as she let her mind wander.

"Well, I would say that you're the best footballer I've ever seen. You are the most loyal friend. You're the smartest person I know, and I learn so much from you daily. I'd say that you're the most beautiful girl in every room, and probably that you're great in bed," Leah says, making you laugh with her final statement.

"I mean, I hope you wouldn't tell a stranger about our sex life, but I'll take the compliment," you say proudly.

It's Leah's turn to pull a card again, this time asking 'What dating advice would you give your younger self?'. The question makes you both laugh, your dating history being almost a joke in your relationship.

"Stop dating boys, you're not attracted to them," you say with a laugh.

"Easy one for you," Leah shakes her head, tucking the card in the back of the pile.

It was your turn again and your eyebrows raise as you quickly glace over the question, "Ooh, deep one. What fear do you think holds me back the most?" You ask, unsure about what Leah might say.

She looks at you, as if weighing up how best to say what she wants to say.

"Honestly?" She raises her eyebrows, and you nod, urging her to continue.

"I think your fear of the future might be holding you back a little bit," she says, and you look into the wine in your lap while you process the words.

"What do you mean by that?" You ask, trying not to let your defences come up.

"Um," Leah rolls her lips together as she tries to find the best explanation.

"I just think whenever I try to bring up the future of our relationship you can shut down a bit," she says, and you nod.

You know she has a point. You being a few years younger than Leah, you struggled to envision those big life events like getting married or having kids. For you, all those events seemed rather inconceivable, especially since your own parents had gotten divorced and you don't have the best relationship with either of them. But for Leah, these were things that she desperately wanted, so when they came up in conversation, knowing it might cause friction, you tend to stay silent.

"You mean when we talk about getting married or having kids?" You question.

"Well when I talk about getting married and having kids, yeah," Leah affirms.

"I mean, that's just not really something I think about," you shake your head, not sure how else to explain that at this stage of your life marriage and children isn't a priority. Of course you love Leah and want to spend the rest of your life with her, but you have never felt like you need a ring on your finger or a marriage certificate for that to happen.

"But see, that upsets me Y/N," Leah places her wine glass back down on the table and you see her eyebrows knit together, frustration building. You sigh and copy her motions, placing your glass down as well.

"I see my future with you, and when you say that you don't think about it, it makes me feel like you don't want me to be a part of yours," Leah explains and you instantly reach out to grab her hands, rubbing them soothingly with your thumbs.

"Lee, I want you in my future. I love you so much, and I don't want to be with anyone else."

Leah gently tugs her hands out of yours, "But you don't want to marry me, or start a family. Those things are important for me!" She stresses.

You rub your face with your hands, "I understand they're important for you Leah, but right now at this stage of my life I don't want marriage and children."

"You don't want them now, or you don't want them ever?" Leah asks, crestfallen.

You pause, not knowing what how to respond without breaking Leah's heart, but it seems that you do that anyway. She sucks in her bottom lip and shakes her head before storming out of the lounge room and up stairs, distantly slamming a door as you stay seated with your head in your hands.

You're overcome with emotion, not knowing how such a lovely night could turn so sour. Wiping tears away you stand from the lounge and take the half full wine glasses to the kitchen and pour them down the sink, knowing your nice evening together was well and truly over. As you give them a rinse you try to collect your thoughts and work out how to approach this topic with Leah.

After setting the glasses down to dry you walk tentatively up the stairs, feeling nervous for how Leah might respond to you. Your bedroom door is shut and you knock lightly before turning the handle and pushing it open slowly. Leah is laying in bed, turned away from the door, giving you no response.

"Leah, darling, can we talk this out?" You ask, staring at the back of your girlfriends head and stepping into the room, closer to the bed.

"There's nothing to talk about," she says sharply.

"There clearly is," you respond as you sit down by her feet at the end of the bed. You reach out to squeeze her leg through the duvet but she scoffs and pulls away, sitting up so her back is resting against the headboard. She crosses her arms as she looks at you, waiting for you to continue.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," you say, feeling genuinely sick to your stomach that Leah has gotten to this state. She just shakes her head.

"I just need you to know that while I don't see myself as a mother or married in the next couple of years, that doesn't mean it's off the cards for me," you say.

"But what if you're never ready for those things? I can't wait my whole life for you to want it Y/N," Leah sighs.

"Well, what if I don't want it?" You ask now, eyes welling with tears, terrified of what this conversation could lead to.

"I know how badly I want kids of my own one day, and how I want to start a family with the woman I love. But if you're not sure that you will ever want that, I'm not sure if we're right for each other," Leah says, voice breaking as she talks.

"See this is why I shut down when this comes up," you are unashamedly crying now, "I just need time Leah! I'm only 23 years old, how can you expect me to know this just now?"

You sob into your hands and Leah moves on the bed, crawling beside you to hold you against her. She wraps her arms around you and guides your head onto her shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into your back.

"I'm so sorry," Leah sighs into your ear.

"I don't want to lose you," you cry even harder as you vocalise your biggest fear.

"You're not losing me, I'm right here," Leah says, stabilising herself to comfort you in your obvious state of distress.

"You deserve someone who wants what you want," you say, gasping for breath between words.

"Shh, it's okay," she leans back to hold your face between both hands, trying to look you in the eyes. You pull your hands between Leah's, covering your face. She grabs your wrists gently and lowers them before wiping your damp cheeks with the cuffs of her jumper.

"I'm sorry, baby, you're right. I shouldn't expect you to give me an answer right now. I think just because I've always known what I want, I find it hard to imagine that it might be a more difficult decision for other people," Leah says, and you nod, knowing where she's coming from.

"It's just hard for me, you know, obviously you're close with your family so it's different. I've always been scared to get married and have kids because my parents had such a hard time with it all, and I'm not very close with them because of it," you say honestly.

"I know, baby, I understand," she says.

"But if I was to build a family with anyone, I'd want to do it with you, Leah. Do you know the first time I met your whole family I went home and cried," you admit, thinking back on that first Williamson family lunch where you'd felt so embraced by them.

"You cried! Why?" Leah says with concern.

"No, it was more happy tears. I'd just never seen a family that loved each other like you guys do, I guess I was crying for younger me who wished I could've had that type of upbringing."

"Oh, my girl, you'll always have that love from me and my family," she assures you.

"I hope so. And it brings me comfort knowing that any child of ours would be loved like that too," you say.

"Of course they would," Leah nods, pressing her forehead against yours.

"I just need you to know that I do want that with you Leah. Just probably a bit further down the line," you say.

"Okay, I can wait for that," she says.

You press your lips against Leah's and she kisses you back gently, apologetically.

"I love you," you say, and she says it back.

"But we're not playing that bloody card game again," you say, making Leah laugh.

"Hey, it did bring it closer didn't it?" She smiles and you shake your head. In some strange way it did.

You and Leah decide to call it a night, crawling under the sheets together. She holds you tightly against her, kissing you softly on the back and side of your neck as you both calm down from the heightened emotions. For the first time you do actually let yourself think about being a mother, and it isn't the scariest idea in the world. You fall asleep with ease in Leah's arms, feeling your future together stretching out before you.

[gonzo-rella]

Together in the Shadows | Eloise Bridgerton

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

NOTE: I prefer to write the reader as gender neutral, but as Bridgerton is set in a very gendered time, that poses a challenge. The reader in this is implied to be, societally, a woman; they are alone with Eloise without worrying about scandal, so this implies that the reader is perceived as a woman. However, I've deliberately been as vague as possible about the reader character to make them as close to gender neutral as possible and haven't explicitly referred to them as being a woman so that some nonbinary and trans folks like myself can feel comfortable reading this fic.

Relationship(s): Eloise Bridgerton x fem-coded/possibly gn!reader (romantic)

Summary: Your sister's last-minute ball is disastrous, but at least it allows you to spend some time alone with Eloise.

Warnings: Nothing beyond kissing. (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 0.8k

(A/N: I'm so in love with Eloise Bridgerton. I want to be in a secret situationship with her, so here's my attempt at exploring that. Also, I haven't actually written a lot of fics that include kissing, so I'm glad I got some practise in writing something I normally don't write. A lot of my original projects are romcoms (including a Regency-inspired duology and a zombie apocalypse story) so it'd help me out a great deal if you let me know what you think of how I did writing the romance in this!)

“Is it not a bit chilly to be out here, Miss Bridgerton?” A grin tugged at Eloise’s lips. She stopped dead in her tracks and peered over her shoulder, not quite looking at you. For a moment, she listened to your footsteps as you paced towards her, though the rustling of grass under your shoes was barely audible over the piercing noise of the string quartet that carried itself through the windows and doors. She scrunched up her nose at the unfortunate sound.

“Perhaps. But, I am afraid I may spiral into a state of madness should I stand in that room for a second longer. I can, however, withstand this cold and my mama’s scolding of me for my absence.”

You wore a mocking frown as you finally reached her side. You were both illuminated by the golden light that shone through the windows and the pale glow of the moon. She turned her head to look at you. For a moment, you forgot to breathe. She was naturally beautiful, but seeing her in this lighting… she looked ethereal. It took you a moment to compose yourself enough to form coherent thought and speech. You weren’t sure that she had noticed the momentary falter.

“In my dear sister’s defence, she poured her whole soul into planning this spectacular event this afternoon.”

Eloise snorted.

“It certainly is a spectacle. I shudder to think what Lady Whistledown will write about it.”

You chuckled and linked arms with her. Briefly averting your gaze, you looked through the window at the attendees who were pretending to enjoy themselves or whispering to each other, presumably uttering some cruel things about this awful ball. Meanwhile, Eloise’s eyes flickered down to where the pair of you made contact, then back up to your face. The skin of your arm brushed against hers, and the gentle friction generated a light tingling sensation that flooded her whole body. She almost couldn’t keep herself upright, and she tightened her grip on your arm to steady herself. Despite the cold night air, her cheeks burned. With her free hand, she reached up to feel the warming flesh of her face. Heat seeped through the fabric of her gloves to her fingertips. The second you returned your attention to her, she quickly lowered her arm, embarrassed.

“However scathing it may be, I assure you that my sister will be delighted to have even been acknowledged,” you said. You paused before continuing. “Given how dreadful everything is in there, I shouldn’t think our absence will be noticed. Would you like to wander the grounds so we do not freeze to death?”

A breathy laugh escaped her lips. 

“Of course. Might we wander far enough that we can escape that cacophony? Somewhere that will afford us some… privacy, perhaps?”

You grinned back at her.

“Certainly, Miss Bridgerton. I know the perfect place for us to enjoy one another’s company.”

Stealing a final glance behind you, you led her to a secluded part of the vast garden, where you would both be hidden by grand hedges. You let go of her arm and turned to face her.

“Is this to your liking?”

A smirk tugged at her lips.

“Anywhere that you are is to my liking.”

“That is so very sweet, I can almost forgive how nauseatingly trite it is.”

She rested her hand on her chest in mock-offence.

“Oh, how you wound me.”

Of course, she can’t have been that wounded, given her grin.

“Would you feel better if I offered you a kiss?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“And, that is not trite?”

You shrugged innocently, unable to suppress a smile.

“I could not think of a more creative way to ask if I could kiss you. I know how you value originality.”

Without hesitation, Eloise placed her hands on your cheeks, and brought your face close to hers. Her breath fanned your skin. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched her gaze flicker to your lips.

“Being direct would have done,” she muttered. “After all, I have been waiting all night for this.”

“Then, why wait a second longer?”

Eloise let out a low chuckle, then closed the gap between you entirely. The kiss was gentle at first, but within seconds her hunger for you became clear. One hand moved to the back of your head to bring you in closer. The other remained planted firmly on the side of your face, her gloved thumb grazing your cheekbone. The motion was so light that you gasped quietly into the kiss, to Eloise’s delight. Her lips moved against yours with fervour, as though she was determined to take in and savour as much of your taste as possible. You rested your palms on her shoulders, and as your hand drifted up her neck you could feel her racing pulse. Then, your fingers became entangled in her hair. You tugged on it softly, and a quiet hum escaped her lips.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but she only managed to get her face an inch away from yours. She laughed quietly, while you couldn’t help but grin.

“Was that to your liking, Miss Bridgerton?”

“You are always to my liking.”

[gildedkrone]

KINKTOBER 2023 🔞

How did he end up here? In this compromising state in your room?

Mouth with slack and drool seeping out from corners of pink lips when his head jerked at the sharp stab of pleasure in his loins. The curtains are drawn shut to bathe the room in darkness and in the centre of the room, on a makeshift bed lay the sergeant.

He knows better than to try to get out of the cuffs attached to his hands and ankles; they deceptively stoked the hope for escape. He had fallen prey to it and three attempts later, his hopes of getting out of this mess lay broken and ruined.

Ruined?

Ruined is a good description for the state of the sergeant as he whined into the empty room praying for any sort of relief as the contraption attached to his dick discharged a shock to his sensitive genitalia and Gaz yelled out in protest for the umpteenth time this has happened.

The other contraption attached to his dick worked tirelessly as its rubber sheath rippled from the base of his dick to his weeping head over and over again. With each cycle, the sergeant gritted his teeth before a pathetic whimper would escape involuntarily each time the motion repeated and his fat cockhead was squeezed by the silicone.

Gaz is a special operations soldier, for crying out loud. With years of experience and training under his belt, he is prepared for all kinds of situations. All except what he is being subjected to currently.

A relentless milker on his dick and an electrostim device attached his balls constantly shocking his poor baby maker.  

“Pet, status?”

He makes out you’re your voice with bleary eyes and chokes out a “green”. Your eyes sweep over the sergeant; sweat coats his lovely, toned body in a sheen and his body jerks and twitches sporadically—each time rippling muscle and skin in a mesmerising dance. Gone is the arrogance that he showed you during the mission a week ago, the angry rebuke to go fuck yourself when you ordered him to retreat that has Price apologising on his behalf. You were adamant in the punishment to be doled out to the sergeant, and here he is at the mercy of your mood.

The milker is one of your favourite toys and while Gaz had initially balked at the device, all he could muster was a “yes sir” when it enclosed his erect dick before the bottom metal ring twisted to create an airtight seal against his body. Your trailed your fingers across his thigh and his eyes focus on your arm.

“Pet, I hope you know that this isn’t coming off.” He nods miserably and you increase the voltage slightly on the electrostim device. Just enough to cause Gaz to kick his legs and moan at the slightly stronger stinging sensation.

Gaz was confident when you shared the details with him; his confidence carried up until the toys were activated with a switch. The milker sprang into action and moves with a mechanical grip on his dick while the toys send a thrumming of electricity into his balls as pleasure gathers around his groin and he is as erect as he had ever been. His protests turns into shouts as his body is assaulted with a myriad of sensations and his hands pull at the padded restraints. The slack is done with purpose, to provide a false illusion of getting free.

And you watched as his hips bucked and pleas fell to get the damn things off of him as his body is aflame with pressure and sin. Foolish sergeant, nothing is coming off tonight as his mind is confused—unable to decide if he wants it to stop, or to continue. But a man’s ego is only as strong as his mental defences, and now, the sergeant’s actions speak a different story.

His hips don’t shake to throw the milker off. Instead, he thrusts into it to get more leverage and friction on his prick. Pleasure is all his lust addled mind can conjure and he desperately begs for more. Well, if more is what he wants, more is what he will get as the milker picks up its pace.

You admire his body wracked with desire as he screams his first orgasm of the night with a sharp twist of the knob as his mind desperately tries not to succumb to the primal need to spew his seed only to fray when your hand twists an erect nipple. White ropes of cum flood the milker in spurts as the sergeant’s body heaved and shook with the debasement of his pride.

So beautiful, you can’t help feel. The milker greedily sucks out all of his seed and the sergeant’s head falls back onto the pillow when he feels his balls being squeezed gently by your fingers.

“Mmrph! F-fuck!” as Gaz curses when the milker shows no signs of stopping even if he has already orgasmed. It’s part of the beauty of these toys—unlike your hands, they don’t wear down with fatigue and they just keep going and Gaz is about to find out exactly what it means to be milked like a cow.

It’s hell. His dick is trapped in a contraption which can’t care less about his body as it starts all over again at the lowest speeds and the shocks just keep coming to his debauched body and all he can muster are some pathetic whines and broken words slipping past his mind.

“That’s just the first of many, sergeant.” You tease him with a gentle push of the milker to swallow more of his length as he swallows harshly and jerks minutely. “Now be a good boy and shoot your load.”

No, no more! He’s mouth lets loose a string of curses and eventually, succumbs to a second orgasm to the milker working tirelessly to collect all of his emissions. The sudden increase in vibrations in his nuts pulls the most luscious whine from his plump lips. A hot tongue encircles his nipples and he looks to see you gently tonguing the erect nubs on his chest before the tongue moves to the other to lave it in strings of saliva. His abs are next as your tongue trailed down the front of his body to his groin. The image is enough to awaken his dick; your face against his thighs with teeth marking the soft flesh while his entire pelvis is alight with sensations he’s come to expect.

“Are you going to cum again?” You tease him gently when his thighs shook gently beneath your palms. His eyes are glassy, unfocused of a man lost in a world of euphoria and stripped down to nothing on your table, he does make a wonderful look with the way his body heaved and squirmed under the relentless onslaught of the machines.

“mmf! Ngh—f-fuck! It’s … too, too much—” The noisy sergeant’s lips are sealed shut when yours descend on his and the fleeting touch of fingertips on his abdomen has him lost again in his foggy mind.

“Gaz, I know you’re capable of a third one.” Perhaps, he needed more convincing even as his eyes roll back in his head when a finger pushes through his hole.

The fingers in his ass feels insane and his dick felt as if it were going to melt with how strong the vibrations are in his nuts. The feeling of churn and the thrumming in his core builds up to his third orgasm of the night.

“N-no, please—AH!” He chokes out and your fingers pause momentarily.

“Status, pet.”

“Gr-reen! F-fuck! Just want t-to cum, darling—please mmfph!”

Shatter him. The fingers in his ass renew their attack on his prostate and the frenzy on his dick is fast and unrelenting and he’s melting into a pool of euphoric joy and your command—now, pet—shatters the last of his control over his body and for the third time of the night, he surrenders his ball batter into the machines milking him for everything he has. The walls around your fingers tighten and Gaz screams, high pitched and whiny, and his orgasm tumbles through his body.

The machines don’t stop and the sergeant blasts the cylinder with spurts of cum. It’s not as much as it was the first time round, but you are impressed by his stamina and his reserves. Eventually, the twitching of his hips and whines of too much meant the devices are turned off and gently tugged off his spent and limp dick. Cum gushes out of the once tight seal and the sight is one to behold. Debauched and completely wrecked, the prideful sergeant lay in ruin on the bed amidst puddles of his cum.

All by your hand.

His eyes widen when something nudges against his hole. Your chuckles confirm his fears. “Pet, you wouldn’t deny me this, would you?” and all he can do is shiver and shout when his ass is next on the line of the punishment.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Riled Up (Tenth Doctor)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged (im begging)

Summary: The Doctor grows tired of you trying to work him up.

CW: smut, frottage, closet sex (lmao), the Doctor is jealous, biting, tame dirty talk (imo), thigh riding, gender neutral reader

Doctor Who tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“Can I ask,” the Doctor says, pulling you down a hallway and into a tight closet. “What- are you doing?” 

He sounds angry. The expression on his face is hard. Eyes wide, mouth pursed into a thin line. You’re almost sure you can see a vein pulsing in his forehead. In his defence, you had been flirting with the ambassador for Pilch. In your defence, however, you’d not been flirting for reasons other than diplomatic strategy. But the Doctor clearly did not like it either way. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you replied indignantly, knowing exactly what you were doing. It had been somewhat of a game for you the last little while. How far can you push him before he snaps? You knew he wanted you, and he knew that you wanted him. You weren’t entirely sure what it was that was holding him back, but you were determined to break that barrier down brick by brick. It just so happened that the one time you weren’t actively trying to turn him on and get him to shag you in the bushes was the one time it apparently seemed to work.

“Bollocks,” he growled, pushing you up against the closet wall. The Doctor crowded into your space, nosing at your jaw and forcing you to raise your chin in submission. You sucked in a breath, hands reaching for his hips as he forced your knees apart and slotted his own between them. “You’re teasing me. You’ve been taunting me for weeks. Is this what you want?” 

The Doctor bit at your jaw, the sharpness of his teeth making you whimper. His hands squeezed at your hips and he rubbed his knee against you. 

“O-oh,” you whimpered before biting your lip to keep the sounds in. 

The Doctor tutted, pulling you into a kiss to make you release your lip as he rubbed your hips over his leg, rolling you against him so that the friction jolted electric pleasure up your spine.

“Want- want to hear you,” he said heavily, eyes dark with lust. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t answer my question, love.” 

Your hips begin to move of their own accord, working with the push and pull of his warm hands to bring you closer to the edge. Oh, this was not how you were expecting today to go. Not that you were complaining, of course. 

“I- It wasn’t my intention,” you panted, wrapping your arms around him tighter and moaning into his ear. He shivered as the sounds reverberated through his system. “But I can’t say I haven’t been trying to wind y-ngh-you up lately.” You nipped his earlobe to punctuate the point. 

The Doctor rubs his leg up against you harshly, delighting in the moans that fall from your pretty mouth.  

“Mm, see- I think you’re a liar,” he chuckles, gripping particularly tight at your hip. “You want this. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? The Doctor, huh? Bit of an age gap, but I’ll let it slide.” 

One of his hands releases your hip to palm at himself in his trousers. He groans, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Oh-oh- yes, maybe I should do this more often, hm? Maybe,” he trails off, licking a long stripe up the column of your throat. “Maybe I should split you open on my cock? Watch you tire yourself out. I’d like that. Would you like that? Oh, look at that blush. You would, wouldn’t you? You want to split yourself open on the Doctor’s cock.” 

He lets out a breathy laugh as you grind against him harder, getting so close now. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, bouncing his leg up to give you the extra stimulation. “Cum for me- God, please- cum for me.” 

It hits you all at once, the pleasure rippling from your core and through your body. You can feel your muscles spasming as you continue to rut against him, your arms grow tired and heavy and the Doctor laughs as he has to hold you up while your legs twitch with pleasure. 

“That’s it, love- just like that- oh, so good for me, aren’t you? Shh, that’s it. You’re alright, love.” 

The Doctor caresses your hair, holding you up and in his embrace. You’re panting into his shoulder, nerves alight and scorched with pleasure. 

“I don’t think the Ambassador is going to be happy that you took his newest toy,” you panted with a giggle. The Doctor grins that oh-so-charming smile of his. 

“I don’t think I care. Do you?” 

Your exhausted grin splits wider.

“Not really,” you reply. 

“Good.”

[diocletianscabbagefarm]

Something really bizarre is happening right now; there's been friction between the Russian Ministry of Defence and Prigozhin (head of Wagner PMC) for months now, with Prigozhin regularly releasing video tirades blaming people high up in the ministry - pretty much everybody except Putin himself - about how they're fucking up the war, or needlessly endangering Wagner forces, etc. Today he released a video about how the ones responsible for the war had been looting Donbass since 2014 and that the states casus belli for the current invasion is a bunch of lies.

Anyway, just a little while ago Prigozhin accused the ministry of striking a Wagner training camp with missiles and released another recording basically declaring war on the ministry in fairly unambiguous terms in what almost sounds like he's announcing a coup attempt

[xo-cod]

do you think simon would be into thigh riding w the reader? 👀

absolutely, no questions about. this was v brief but i can def do a more in depth version. it'd be the tease before the penetration for sure ;) <33

i feel like it would honestly just depends on what he's feeling like in the moment. for the most part, he would have you on his thigh while he's fully clothed and you're next to naked. he'd be guiding your hips achingly slow across his sturdy thigh, feigned concern as he mumbles just how pretty and good you are for him.

he flexed his thigh to create a little more friction for you but not enough to get you off. with every nudge over your swollen clit you know you won't last like this and it's enough to send you over the edge. and when your head is fuzzy and overwhelmed with pleasure, his chuckle cuts through. his tone slightly mocking, head cocked to the side as if he doesn't know why you're this way

"what's the matter, little love? it feels good, yeah? christ love, you're making such a mess for me" you could hear his smirk at this point and he knows just how badly you're aching for his cock. he needs you even more, he can feel himself twitch and his jeans tightening uncomfortably around his hips. he would've shown you mercy, his defences were already weakening. but you just sounded so good and his head tilts back against the couch in pleasure, a soft hum emanating from his chest. he loves how you feel, his hand coming down your stomach to press against your opening causing you to jolt and whimper, bucking into his fingers

he'll move you when he wants to move you, you'll just be a pretty lil thing grinding on his thigh as he gets hard at just how desperate you are for him 🤍😙

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter One

(AO3 Link) | Master List | Ko-Fi

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You). F/M.

Word Count: 2100 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, Tav w/tragic backstory, graphic violence, domestic fluff, camp life, Tav has no magic/fighting ability, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT).

WARNING: Contains graphic descriptions of violence and gore.

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

A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content.)

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

Chapter One - Intoxicating

“Fucking-... Piece of-... Ugh!” Your fingers burn from the friction of wrestling with your chain. You let out a guttural growl as you fall back, flat on your arse in defeat. Yep, you’re definitely stuck. The cuff makes your ankle itch and the chain doesn’t seem to have weakened. Panting, you search your cell for some form of escape to no avail. Just in the cold cobbles beneath you and the bars that cast lengthy shadows on your bruised body. Your clothes are tattered and ripped, if you can even call them clothes anymore. They leave your injuries from your perilous journey here on full display. The last thing you remember was falling, then… Floating? Then black. Now, there’s goblins everywhere and your head hurts… A lot… It really, really hurts actually…

The room begins to spin as you focus on the sensation, then you remember the creature that lives behind your eye. You shiver at the thought as the room pulses around you. It’s searching for… something? It searches for… it’s own kind. You sense it’s kin nearing your cell. The creature writhes in your skull, burning your eyes from the inside. You cry in pain, holding your head to prevent it from coming apart. “This, is the human?” A raspy, deep, feminine voice commands. You squint, attempting to pierce your vision through a wall of warped pulsations. “Y-yes ma’am. We found her by the crash site.” Another voice responds, full of gravel and apprehension. Whoever he’s speaking to, he’s afraid of her.

“Hmm… Interesting.” Your creatures connect and you feel an overwhelming urge to open your mind to the intrusion.

You see her silhouette: Thin, tall and armoured. Then, her wisteria skin and light blonde hair comes into focus. “Welcome home, True Soul.” You do not see her mouth move, nor hear the words through your ears. Instead, her voice echoes in your mind. She pokes and prods at your thoughts, prying open your defences and harvesting your memories. She smiles and pulls out of your mind abruptly once satisfied. You gasp for air as the pain finally subsides and you crumble to the floor. “It will get easier.”

“Wh-what is this? I don’t-” You speak through tears.

“Shh. It will become clear soon enough. The Absolute has plans for you. For us all.” Her words almost sounded like comfort, but there’s something wrong. When she dug into your mind, it left hers open to you. She wants something.

She scans your deteriorating rags, then glares at the goblin by her side who shivers under her gaze. “Do you have no sense?! No respect?! Find some clothes for her. Now!”

“Y-yes Minthara! Sorry! Er-” He dashes away and returns moments later, bundle in hand, he slides it through the bars, shaking.

“Thank you…” You reach for it hesitantly.

“Once she is dressed, you will bring her to me.” She walks away.

“Y-yes Minthara.” The goblin responds. He flicks his eyes back at you and gestures for you to hurry up. You nod and dress yourself, trying to conceal as much of your body as you can from the worried eyes of the goblin.

You smooth down a dress made of various pelts over your wide curves. It wasn’t well made and it certainly could have been more modest, but it fit well enough and you were grateful for the change. The gate opens and the goblin hastily releases your ankle from the chain and pushes you forward. “Move.” You obey and walk in front of him, arms behind your back as he directs you through the camp by your wrists. As you move through what seems to be a lively party, all eyes are on you. Some goblins jeer and make obscene gestures, others inspect your body from afar as they glug their ale. Choosing not to let this phase you, you dare to ask your guard a question: “What are you celebrating?”

“Raid. Good one.” Despite his bluntness and reluctance to reveal information, you hear the smile on his face in his words.

Eventually you make it to the inside of a large, run down, temple-like building. It seems the party stopped here. The grand architecture allows for various phrases, commands and even cries of agony to echo and bounce off the walls. Minthara is observing a map as you approach her. She looks up at you, briefly. “Better. Leave us.” You can’t help but admire her authority as the goblins scatter at her command. She looks back down and traces her fingers along painted roads. Curiously, you look over to find that the map contains no location that you recognise other than Baldur’s Gate. “Is this where we are?” You ask hoping that maybe you aren’t as far from home as you once thought.

“Yes. But I’m hunting for something that isn’t on this map, or any for that matter.” She doesn’t look at you as she speaks.

“That doesn’t sound easy.” You try to sympathise. Powerful allies are always useful, especially in situations such as this.

“No. Especially when all you have are dimwitted pawns at your disposal.” She spits disgust through her words, you nod and move closer to get a better look at the map. “In usual circumstances, I wouldn’t care, but I plan to make great use of you, True Soul. Your name, what is it?”

“Tav. And you are Minthara?” She nods. “You call me True Soul, what does that mean?” She grins with excitement as she gets to be the one to explain The Absolute, the tadpoles and your potential. She does so with a fierce determination in her eyes and a proud loyalty in her voice that speaks to the darker cravings of your mind. You consider that maybe this creature in your head isn’t so bad, after all. “And your hunt? Is it to serve The Absolute?”

“Correct.” She pauses to consider whether or not to reveal her intentions. “There’s a weapon. Powerful and well sought after. I am sure that it is being protected by a grove of druids somewhere in this area.” She circles a section of the map for you. “No matter how many patrols we have sent, they return with little information. Pathetic creatures.” She grumbles under her breath. Her eyes light up, she looks at you and grins.

“We have a prisoner. Though, I believe our… ‘interrogators’ lack a certain finesse. His lips remain tightly bound. I’m sure The Absolute would have a fine reward for the one who loosens them.” Her eyebrow raises as she eagerly awaits your response. Torture isn’t your usual expertise, but you can see in her eyes the excitement and even arousal at the thought of you shedding such blood for The Absolute’s cause. You deduce that her disappointment in you would have far greater consequences than the pain of a stranger.

“I understand.” Your eyes are wide as you accept this unsightly task. You stretch a smirk over your teeth in an attempt to match her enthusiasm.

“Excellent. Follow the screams, oh, and do not come back empty handed.”

You do as she commands, following the pleads for mercy until you find two goblins and a human tied to a torture device. You try to put on your most authoritative voice as you speak. “I have orders from Minthara. I’ll take over from here.” The goblins grumble, displeased with the arrangement as they open a space for you, directly in front of the stranger. You move into position and look up at him. His eyes are dry yet his cheeks are stained with tears, his cracked lips part as he whimpers softly. You approach, he scans you, unsure of your next move. And honestly, you’re unsure too. You’ve never been in a position to hurt someone, before now there was no opportunity for you to take. In fact, you have grown accustomed to the opposite, but this is different. This is… Powerful. Powerful in a way that makes your stomach churn and your heart flutter. A questionable, undefinable mix of want and need. You graze your finger over your canvas as he squirms. His fear is intoxicating.

Hot pokers sit in a brazier, you take one and hold it in front of his face, just close enough to singe hairs. “Where is the grove?” You ask him calmly, allowing the poker to emphasise the question for itself.

“F-fuck… Y-you…” His response doesn’t anger you, it frightens you. Your eyes widen as you build the courage to transform your threat into action. Your breathing becomes deeper as you try to submerge your hesitation. You muster as much command in your voice as you can, trying to hide your pleading. You do not want to hurt this man, no matter how intriguing this sensation is. “Where is the grove?”

He lets out a desperate whimper before feebly grasping onto his loyalty. “I s-said… F-fuck you.” The emanating heat travels from his cheek, down his neck, down his chest, stopping at his stomach. He gasps and desperately tries to wriggle away to no avail. You look into his eyes, searching for the key to end his torture, you find none. He screams in devastating agony, the smell of his burning flesh causes the goblins around you to salivate. You look down to find your own hand gripping the poker. Although you had prepared and felt it’s movement, somehow the choice your arm made surprised you. “Okay! Okay! Please! Stop!” You hold on a moment longer, examining the strange appendage before you as it shamelessly displays it’s power over it’s victim.

You pull away suddenly, your mind inhabiting your arm once again. The man splutters and cries, riding out the unrelenting wave of soreness. Regaining composure, you look back into his eyes. You yearned for the ability to communicate that he was not the only victim in the room, that you don’t want him to feel such pain. Then again, you suppose that would offer him little comfort. “Where is the grove?” The tears in his eyes obscure his vision until you are nothing but a blur.

“P-please…” By now he knows his pleas are useless but he continues anyway, using them as a mantra to calm himself through the pain. “No more… I beg of you…”

“Where is the grove?”

“No… I can’t be responsible for their deaths… I can’t…” In all the chaos, you hadn’t even considered the possible slaughter that Minthara had planned for the grove. If these druids are guarding this ‘weapon’, it is doubtful that they will hand it over without a fight. You can only hope that their forces are stronger than hers, for there is nothing you can do now, you need this information to protect yourself.

You spot a rusted dagger on the floor and swap it with the poker. The man flinches at the possibilities you now hold in your hand. You place the tip on the left side of his stomach, below the steaming burn. “Where is the grove?”

“No, I-” His defiance is interrupted by a shriek as the dull blade buries itself into his skin. You push. “Stop! Stop!” You look at his pained face, he looks at you, you need not repeat the question. You begin to drag the blade to the right, rust snagging on flesh, his blood leaks in irregular spasms, it is and isn’t pretty. He cries and looks at you in terror as he realises that you have no intention of stopping and his innards will soon be spilled onto the floor. He submits. He submits to you.

“P-please! I’ll tell you! Everything! Please!” You step back, removing the dagger from his body and releasing it from your grasp. Once he regains somewhat control of his breathing, he speaks again. “E-East… P-past the ruins and… The bridge. They c-covered the gate with ivy…” His head lolls in defeat and exhaustion.

You look around to find goblins staring at you in awe. Before any could compliment you on your twisted success, you nod and leave to report back to Minthara. She leans back and hungrily gazes at you as she processes the information: satisfied, impressed, fascinated. Before you know it, you’re travelling by her side, her army marching closely behind. She steals glances at you, noticing your beads of nervous sweat. You’ve never been close to a battle like this, and you’re really, really bad at hiding it. She doesn’t comment, just smirks and continues her pursuit. Together you head to the grove, to the weapon, to the East. Once again, you hope that they can handle what’s coming.

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

Next Chapter

[attichaos]

Rune Meanings

These are a few keywords and themes for rune symbols along with their modern alphabet equivalents.

*longer read*

Ansuz - Message, A

God, Ancestors, Revelation, Signs, Visions, Insight, Message, Knowledge, Communication

Berkana - Birch, B

Earth Mother, Birth, Fertility, Growth, Renewal, New beginnings, Creation, New projects, Creativity

Kaunaz - Torch, C/K/Q

Fire, Knowledge, Enlightenment, Comprehension, Insight, Illumination, Calling, Purpose, Idea

Dagaz - Dawn, D

Intuition, Light Within, Day, Awakening, Consciousness, Clarity, Hope, Balance, Growth, New cycles

Ehwaz - Horse, E

Twin Gods, Relationships, Progress, Movement, Harmony, Trust, Loyalty, Friendship, Assistance, Duality, Animal instincts

Fehu - Wealth, F

Wealth, Mother Rune, Abundance, Luck, Hope, Prosperity, Fortune

Gebo - Gift, G

Divine Interaction, Generosity, Partnership, Gifts, Talents, Charity, Service, Assistance, Luck, Fortune

Hagalaz - Hail (as in the type of weather), H

Transformation, Egg of Life, Destruction, Natural wrath, Uncontrolled forces, Testing, Change, External input

Isa - Ice, I

Cosmic Coherence, Suspension, Delay, Stillness, Frustration, Blocks, Pause, Waiting

Jera - Harvest, J

Earth, Right Action, Year, conclusion, Life cycle, Endings and beginnings, Abundance, Learnings, Growth

Laguz - Lake, L

Fertilty, Living Renewal, Water, Intuition, Imagination, Healing, Dreams, Mysteries, Insight, Instinct, Knowing

Mannaz - Man, M

Divine Union Manifestation, Humanity, Collective, Mortality, Community, Relationships, Morals, Values

Nauthiz - Neccesity, N

Needs, Friction, Shadow, Restriction, Disagreements, Resistance, Survival, Lacking

Othila - Heritage, O

Genetics, Legacy, inheritance, Spiritual growth, Abundance, Values, Contribution

Peorth - Destiny, P

Divination, Luck, Primal law, Fate, Mysteries, Occult, Feminine fertility, Chance, Fortune, Mysticism, Unknown

Raido - Journey, R

Solar Chariot, Rhythm, Progress, Movement, Evolution, Perspective, Journey, Travel

Sowulo - Sun, S

Thunderbolt, Wheel of Power, Success, Vitality, Inspiration, Justice, Success, Joy, Happiness, Abundance

Teiwaz - Victory, T

Masculine Gods, Warrior Rune, Leadership, Rationality, Honour, Bravery, Courage, Strength, Perseverance, Endurance

Uruz - Power, U

Primal Creative Force, Gateway, Strength, Endurance, Health, Courage, Vigour, Vitality, Force, Perseverance

Wunjo - Joy, V/W

Kinship, Heritage, Joy, Pleasure, Feast, Celebration, Comfort, Belonging, Community, Success, Festivities

Thurisaz - Thor, X, th

Protection, Polarity, Regeneration, Defence, Challenge, Danger, Attack, Strength

Eiwaz - Yew, Y

Tree of Life, Dreaming, Magic, Connection, Inspiration, Endurance, Sacred knowledge, Protection, Life cycles, Divinity

Algiz - Elk, Z

Divine Protection, Sanctuary, Protection, Guardian, Awakening, Courage, Defence, Instincts

Inguz - Fertility, NG

True Love, Music, Harmony, Fertility, Virility, Inner growth, Virtue, Peace, Harmony

Merry meet,

Atti <3

[sonnetsoncanvas]

Mess it up : pt 4

Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can

Part of the Mess it up series

Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)

Warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT AHEAD, masturbation (M & F), fingering, vibrator, overstimulation, bondage, choking kink, possessive bucky.

Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams

Notes: This is the first time a fic has made its way from my laptop to the internet. So please be kind and do leave your feedback. Happy reading!

We could make it better, breaking every habit.

Bucky POV

“You like that, don’t ya baby?” Bucky grunted in your ear; his voice unrecognisable to his own. You moaned loudly, the melody of that beautiful sound echoing through his apartment.

“Bucky…baby…please, pleaaaase…..oh my god.” You blabbered. Bucky was sure you had lost control of your mind. He had never seen you this vulnerable, this submissive. You had trusted him enough to take down all your defence and give yourself to him, a fact that warmed his soul even in through his lust filled haze.

He shifted his focus on your swollen clit, wet and slippery after being thoroughly abused for hours by his mouth and the little pink vibrator he had bought for the very purpose of turning you into the mess you are right now. He kept his fingers curled inside you to reach that one spot that made you squeal and kept on moving it achingly slow, just enough to keep you within the reach of your release, but not quite much to give it to you.

He was, after all, punishing you.

“Where’s that smart mouth now, huh, doll?” he mocked, his eyes sweeping over your stunningly ruined form, his mind not believing it was him who had done this to you.

“bucky please…. Sorry..aaah…..please I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You chanted it like a mantra to placate your man, to convince him to give you what you so desperately need. You arched your back, tugging on your tied hands, beckoning him to kiss you.

“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, pretty baby. I think you need to be reminded who owns this perfect pussy, no? I’m the only one who could make a mess out of you. the only one who can see you this way. But here you are, going around, giving people the impression that they can be in my place, giving you everything you want.” He bent down to lick the sweat off your neck, sucking another bruise to the already marked area, still angered by the way boys were ogling your ass at the afterparty today. He knew that you were fair game to them, considering that your relationship with him was a well-guarded secret. Still his heart burned with envy when they hit on you openly, in a way he never can.

And you, the minx you were, flirted back with them, knowing how this would mess with him. He had almost stalked to the boy, shoving him into his place (which was away from you, obviously). Thank God for Steve, who had glared on the boy enough to melt him to the ground. You, however, had simply smirked at Bucky, daring him to claim you.

And here he was, claiming every inch of you. kissing, sucking, marking it.

You mewled prettily, wriggling your hips to get some friction, making bucky chuckle. He gave in then, increasing the pressure on the vibrator, finger fucking you faster until you gave out a prolonged moan, your pussy fluttering and squirting, soaking him. And God above, he knew that this must be what heaven would be like.

“My sweet, sweet girl, did so good for me.” He murmured reverently as he untied your wrists and kissed the red marks. “My best girl, my girl, my doll.”

“FUUUUUUCCCK” Bucky growled, leaning all his weight on his metal arm, his flesh one jerking his dick roughly. A couple of more strokes and he came violently, his release smeared all over his  hand and the bathroom floor, before flowing down the drain.

He sighed, disappointed and dissatisfied. Jerking himself off, as surprisingly common as that was for him, was never enough. He was always left feeling empty inside, no matter how much he tried.

It was to rid himself of this emptiness he had been with other women, trying them on as clothes to see if they could fit the void of your absence. It was wrong of him to do that, he knew it. But all of those hook ups were just that, transactional sexual encounters where they traded orgasms and went home.

He could not classify them as relationships, even if the media or his friends seemed to refer them that way. Where was the emotional connect, the understanding, the long conversations, the longing. Bucky never felt an iota of what he felt with you with anyone else, a fact that had frustrated him initially. Now, it was just a fact he had accepted resignedly, that he would never fall in love with anyone the way he fell for you.

He was toxic bastard. Unfair to all those women who tried their best to live with his brooding ass. He had apologised to them much later, telling them how sorry he was for his emotional unavailability. Some forgave him, some still hated him.

Ultimately, he circled back to this, taking care of himself while thinking of you. this was what he’d done for all the time he was apart from you, nevertheless who was in his bed or if he was alone. He simply reminisced of the times you were together or imagining what he’d do to you if you were there with him. And great heavens, there were so many filthy, debauched things he would do to you, if only he could.

Your reappearance in his life had spurred him on in a bizarre way. It was like he was a teenager again, constantly horny. But it wasn’t even horniness that was driving bucky crazy. It was a strange longing for intimacy, to be intimate with you. to touch, taste and smell you.

Two days ago, he had almost gotten that. Bucky hadn’t meant to cross any of the unspoken boundaries set by you, but the moment he sensed you in peril his primal intuition to protect you had taken over, pulling you towards him.

that singular moment brought him more peace than anything had in the past five years. Everything just felt…right.

It felt wrong, how right this situation felt. His heart had grown so used to the cold, that warmth the seeped through you felt foreign, alien. And he’d jerked back, ending what was the best thing to happen to him in oh so long.

Trust bucky to mess it up.

He cleaned himself up and dressed, pulling on a pair of grey sweatpants that used to make your beautiful eyes wide. He smiled at the memory, walking out in the living room where he sensed you. it was natural to him, his heart finding where you are before your eyes could even locate you. you were sitting next to Steve, having an intense conversation from the sound of it. As he entered the kitchen, Steve hollered “Hey Buck! Y/n accidentally made some extra French toasts. They’re by the stove”

His heart stumbled a bit. He immediately refused to believe that you made a calculation mistake. You who had been cooking since you could reach the countertop, you who hated wastage of any kind and was so cautious of every spoonful. You did not ‘accidentally’ cook something.

Maybe you had noticed his feeble attempts at cooking. Maybe you still remembered he loved your French toasts. Maybe he should shut up and just eat.

He grabbed a plate and sat on the couch opposite to you guys, paying close attention to the topic of conversation. Turns out it was Steve convincing you to live with him.

“Steve I am not going to live with you and your girlfriend if I get the job. I am literally twenty four!” exasperation was evident in your voice, which bucky picked on. Your brother however, did not.

“Fine. At least get a place nearby. How about in our building? I’m very sure the apartment downstairs is empty ever since that emo guy moved out….”

You only chuckled at your brother’s naivete. He had to be doing this on purpose, no one is that dumb. “There is no way in hell I’m going to be able to afford living in this neighbourhood on an associate’s salary! Not all of us get a million dollars at our first gig!” you were trying very hard to retain your composure, but your body was betraying your annoyance.

Bucky had never butted between the two of you before. But this time he felt it was his responsibility to knock some sense into his foolhardy best friend.

“Steve, man, she’s a person in her own right. She has proved over and over again how capable she is of living on her own. I don’t think its right to be dictating your terms like that. If she needs help figuring stuff out, I’m sure she knows she can come to us anytime.”

The minute he said that, bucky’s entire body tensed with feeling of your eyes on him. You had looked in his general direction since he sat down, but now you were looking directly at him. His face warmed with awareness.

Steve was apparently pacified , his arguments reduced to a disgruntled grumble as he collected the plates and ambled towards the kitchen. And bucky was now alone with you in the room.

You turned your head and looked into his eyes “thank you for taking my side. I didn’t need you to, but I guess he needed to hear that from someone that wasn’t me.”

It was like the speech function of his brain stopped working. Say something damnit

“it was nothing. He’s missed you that’s all.”

“And I’ve missed him, but this is bordering on overbearing.”

“Steve had always been overbearing when it came to you, don’t you remember what happened when that emo boy hit on you?”

And that’s how the first real conversation between the two of you in the past five years began, ranting about Steve’s occasional misdemeanours. Which in turn started a conversation about your interviews (which he was elated to hear went great), which in turn started a conversation about his last tour and next album’s preparations.

 Before he knew it you were both laying the past four years bare in front of each other. And bucky felt like he could finally breathe again.      

You bath talked for what felt like an hour but was in reality three, only to be separated when sam dropped by to drag him to gym. He’d bid goodbye to you with a smile, and what made him giddy was that you smiled back too.

That day bucky did an extra hour workout, just because it felt like his heart was pumping extra blood in his veins in jubilation. He also wanted to replay every bit of the conversation in his head before it faded away.

Afterwards, as he ambled to his car with aching feet and burning lungs, all he could think was, “I can spend the rest of my life like this.”

Reader’s POV

As Bucky got up and left for gym, glaring at Sam as if he had snatched his favourite toy from him, he’d taken a moment to smile down at you

And it paralysed you. completely halted time. And turned it back to five years ago, when you had seen it for the first time.

Out of sheer courtesy you’d smiled back at him, you told yourself. That your smile had got nothing to do with fact that you genuinely enjoyed talking to him.

That you never wanted to stop talking to him.

you walked to the washroom to do your night time routine with a strange sense of relief, the sort you hadn’t felt for years.

“good.” You told your reflection in the mirror with toothbrush in your mouth, “now we can be amicable acquaintances rather than awkward exes. Makes things easier for me.”

“I mean now I have nothing holding me back from accepting the New York offer, right?” you debated with no one with particular as you disrobed for shower.

But as soon as the first spray of hot water hit you face, all your inhibitions melted to something primal. You closed your eyes and the highlights of the conversation played out in your head in slow motion.

His unfiltered smiles. His compassionate eyes. His long silken locks. His veined, tattooed arms. His long, ringed fingers

Damn his long, ringed fingers.

They had been your undoing long back, just like they were now.

Your own fingers travelled down your body to the one place that was aching for that blue eyed adonis.

It had frustrated you for so long that your brain will only ever conjure up Bucky’s image whenever you tried to masturbate. No matter how hard you tried, it was always him. His fingers, his tongue, his cock. You tried listening to erotic audios, reading the filthiest eroticas, watching porn, but no avail. You blamed it on the fact that your body had only known his touch. You never allowed yourself to become physically involved with anyone after him, and there was no one before him. It was and has always been just him.

But now your brain did not need any extra aid to make you imagine his fingers pressing on your clit and his other hand, preferably the metal one, caressing your breast, gently tugging and teasing your already hard nipples.

Soon his fingers would slowly probe your entrance, just circling it with his index until you begged him to enter your pussy. He had always been a jerk like that, making you beg, scream and squirm before giving you your sweet release.

With two fingers fucking your fluttering pussy, and his palm pressing on your sensitive clit, he would climb up and take you heavy breasts in his mouth, sucking them viciously, leaving his metal arm free to choke you just enough to make you delirious.

His rings would drag against your walls, his palms maintaining that insistent pressure on your clit, while he continued to whisper the obscenest things to you, the cool metal of his arm contrasting your overheated skin.

It wasn’t long before you clenched around your fingers as a shuddering orgasm washed over you. your eyes water and you sank down to the floor, panting, while warm water still poured down on you, washing away the evidence of your arousal.

Arousal that was the result of a mere conversation with this devastating man.

You were utterly and truly Fucked.

[stainlesssteellocust]

What would a Tau psyker-caste be called?

Hear me out it’s a few centuries into the future, not going into details, Imperium is still around but fractured into various successor-states, some of which are ironically much more vital and less held back by Imperial baggage. And the Tau have made advances too.

They’ve spliced human genes into cloned Tau, selectively bred those Tau who reacted most sensitively to ‘mind science’ phenomena, they’ve studied the psy-enhancers used by the Votann. And they’ve got a result! It isn’t perfect, it’s still a work in progress, but that just means weird possible unit variations and all.

One consists of a unit that fights with their minds linked together, and combines their collective brainpower to manifest warp-powers on the field. They’re not individually powerful enough to create battle-useful effects yet, you see, but if there’s one thing you can say about the Tau is that they work together. On tabletop they’d start taking penalties to their psy-powers as the unit took casualties.

Next step up would be for those capable enough to fight independently, leader-models with psy-enhancer drones etc who can join units.

And for for the most powerful and skilled there would be a sort of battlesuit: The Tau tech isn’t as good as the Leagues yet (or even the Imperium with their psycannons and stuff) so they need to use a large chassis to get the full effect. I figure most of these psykers couldn’t get possessed or mutated, between their dim souls and the enhancers being built to shut down when things went wrong. But the suits could end up becoming daemon-engines, so they’re a risk to deploy.

Potentially also a Gue’vesa variant where the machines are mostly there to suppress their powers, but who can overclock to become monstrously strong, but only at great risk.

(I don’t think they do the good old “roll a dice for your power” thing any more but it would be fun if they did because they could have a power modelled after each caste including their own. Fire is a blast, water charms or demoralises enemies, air is a movement or teleportation thing, earth strengthens an ally’s defence. Ethereal inspires allies. Their own…helps units cooperate or has some predictive effect? Maybe? Gue’vesa version can choose another list but at added risk of warp bullshit. Some other Tau think their entire existence is between-caste nonsense, and some have started to understand what the Imperium means when they shriek about tech-heretics and forbidden knowledge)

These guys would have a lot of friction from the other Castes. They have to defend themselves in battle without stepping on Fire Caste toes. The technology has to be made, modified and improved with input from psykers, who end up knowing far more about the techs inner workings than the Earth Caste are happy with, psychic orders and guidance potentially messes with the Ethereals…

I figure they carry no guns, but command specialised drones, which they control with their powers instead of technology to practice and hone their skills. They never deploy or take action without full agreement from the other Castes, and direct Ethereal oversight.

By Tau standards, many are quite insane.

[teamdilf]

I’ve been putting together rough ideas for my Rook, recognizing that at least some of this is likely to change once the game is released. But, here’s what I have so far:

City elf mage - born in Antiva but transferred to Kinloch Hold once she came into her magic. She has few memories of her parents.

She was 13 when the Circles fell and escaped to the coast, where she snuck aboard a ship bound for Rivain. There, an impoverished teenager, she took to pickpocketing, and was caught by a Lord of Fortune. Impressed by the girl’s cheek, he took her in to train her, not realizing she’s an apostate. She learns how to dual wield blades and when she slips and it’s revealed she’s a mage, her mentor simply shrugs, tells her magic is useful when treasure hunting, and finds a colleague to continue her magical education.

She’s very much in it for the money at first. She doesn’t know shit about the ancient elven gods, save for that the ruins she’s broken into often lead to a good payday.

She cracks jokes because laughing is easier than crying, and she mourns her mentor, who died a year earlier after cutting himself off the frayed rope holding the two of them, sending him falling into a crevice.

She actually feels things very deeply but hides it as a defence mechanism. She wants to be loved and wants someone to look up to after losing her mentor but doesn’t know how to seek that love out.

Unlike Iris and Solas, she is not an intellectual. She doesn’t much care for magical theory and isn’t going to be the person solving complex magical problems. To her, magic is a tool that helps her break into places and stab people more effectively. I can see her POV on magic being something that causes friction between her and Solas, who doesn’t understand why she’s not more curious about magic, not understanding that she’s curious about plenty of things - just not what she perceives to be an unlucky quirk she was born with. Her passion is the sea - sailing, sea creatures, and exploration.

She feels very guilty about the trouble she caused, but masks it with humour.

Casually andrastian - I haven’t decided entirely one way or another.

Bisexual. Very, very bisexual.

[matan4il]

To @heres-the-marvel-tea, darling Chrissy! How are you?

I got your ask, and you're absolutely right, the Six Day War was a defensive one. I'll try to help as much as I can in explaining why.

I'll apologize for how long it took me to reply, real life has been kicking my ass, leaving me with very little free time, and in what I had, I had trouble finding resources in English that don't leave important factors out. BUT then I found an incredible timeline of events, which gives a really good idea of the lead up to the war, in addition to giving links and resources for each event. So I'll give a short overview of the main factors, point out important dates on the timeline, add a few links here and there, then add the timeline link at the end. The timeline is also easily searchable with the "search page" function (Ctrl+F on a computer). Please tell me if together, my overview and the timeline cover what you need, if not, I'll do my best to help with whatever's still missing!

Here's an overview of the war's causes:

Egypt blockading the Straits of Tiran, cutting off Israel's fuel supply from Iran (which Israel was friendly with before the Islamist regime took over). This act endangered the lives of all Israelis, and therefore was considered a "casus belli," a cause for war (Israel officially stating this since 1957 can be found on the timeline under May 19, and The Times pointing out this info can be found under May 23). This act in and of itself, which was decided on and announced on May 22, 1967 and enacted on May 23, was enough to conclusively define the war as defensive on Israel's part. In terms of the rules of war, there was no need for anything else.

Even before that, Egypt broke the terms of the ceasefire achieved at the end of the Sinai War in 1956, inserting Egyptian military forces into the Sinai Peninsula (on Israel's border with Egypt), and demanding that the UN supervising force leave the Sinai. Both of these moves were a violation of the ceasefire, AND were needed if Egypt wanted to attack, indicating to Israel their aggressive intents. Egypt's forces entered Sinai on May 16, and the UN force (UNEF) was told to leave on May 18.

An Egyptian plan to strike Israel first was meant to be launched on May 27, but Egypt had to cancel it, when it became evident to the Egyptian president that Israel found out about this intended military strike (found on the timeline under May 27. Israel got the intel about the attack at almost the last minute, on May 25, and worked urgently to make sure the Egyptians would learn that their plan had been exposed).

Egypt worked to forge a multi-army Arab alliance, through a series of agreements (such as the mutual defence agreement with Syria, signed on Nov 4, 1966, I'm linking this one 'coz I believe it's not covered on the timeline, and the one Egypt signed with Jordan, found on the timeline under May 30), which basically aligned the Egyptian, Syrian and Jordanian armies, as well as auxiliary forces from Iraq and Saudi Arabia. This was another indication of the Arab aggressive intentions to start a war against Israel.

Iraqi and Saudi soldiers entered Jordan (found on the timeline under May 27), and together, these forces were situated just right to attack Israel in the area where the country is narrowest (14 kilometers wide, roughly 7.5 miles), cutting it into two, and separating Israel's forces, supplies and command, which is a huge strategic threat.

The aggressions from Syria against the Israeli population were intensifying. One aspect of the friction revolved around "The Water War": in 1955, in a US brokered deal, Israel was granted 40% of the Jordan River's water, but despite the Arabs getting 60%, they refused to ratify the accord, because it would have meant recognizing the legitimate existence of Israel. In Jun 1964, Israel started the National water Carrier project, using water from the Jordan River for agriculture in the Negev Desert, which the Arab League had determined was a threat to the entire Arab nation. Accordingly, Syria first tried shooting at Israeli patrols protecting the project, which led to Israeli counter strikes. So instead, Syria tried diverting away from Israel the water flowing from Syrian territory into the Jordan River, endangering Israel's water supply. Another aspect was (as you said) Syria firing at Israeli civilians, especially in territories that Israel agreed to keep de-militarized after the Independence War. That wasn't supposed to stop civilians working the land there, but Syria decided otherwise, targeting Israeli farmers working in these areas, and fishing in the Sea of Galilee. This led to repeated clashes, including the unprecedented downing of 6 (!) Mig 21 fighter jets (back then, THE terrifying Soviet threat, given to Arab armies) by Israel on Apr 7, 1967.

These threats forced Israel to recruit its reservists (found on the timeline undere May 17, 19 and most importantly, May 23), paralyzing Israeli economy, as all of these people weren't working. In other words, it's not just that it's not sensible for Israel to sit and wait for the Arabs to strike first, it was also financially unsustainable. Israel needed to address the military threat to its people, and it needed to do so as soon as possible, to avoid the collapse of Israel's economy, and the harm that would cause to the country's population.

Lastly, The Israeli Prime Minister at the time, Levi Eshkol, tried to solve the issue of the blockade through diplomatic means. He sent Israel's Foreign Minister, Abba Eban, on May 24 to Paris, London and Washington, to ask for the world's help in solving without war the issues of the UNEF's removal from Sinai, the introduction of Egyptian army forces there, and the blockade, but Israel got none. Regular Israelis realized Egypt, Syria and their allies were headed for war, and people were petrified over what would happen if the first military strike would land when, where and how this coalition of Arab countries chose (you have to remember that Israel wasn't considered a military power until after the Six Day War, so the question of how would one small country do, if taken by surprise on multiple fronts, was justifiably terrifying. People talked about the destruction of the country, a second Holocaust. For me personally, I think nothing got me to realize just how existential the fear was, as hearing about it from Holocaust survivors, such as painter and child survivor Samuel Bak). So, Israel had no choice left, it had to land a preemptive strike.

HonestReporting's Annotated Timeline of the Six Day War

I really hope this helps! Let me know? Sending so much love! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[thequibblah]

wip tag!

i'm here at last! but in my defence, i couldn't spoil a surprise chapter drop through this post, right? ty for the tag @oyprongs @mipwrites @possessingtheproperspirit @emeralddoeadeer @isahorcrux (oh dear)

List the titles your top five priorities for WIP updates (link your fics for new readers!)

An upcoming scene, event, or detail in each fic that you're looking forward to writing

Bonus: make a poll for your followers to vote on which top 5 WIP they are most excited to see an update on!

Then tag 10 writer friends! (so sorry i will not be doing this. so sorry)

we are about to use an incredibly flexible definition of "wip"...

TITLES

come together ch. 53 — sickening number by the way. too high. this fic is too long

save me a place — IF i'm even working on it, it might be a sequel to a certain author favourite

unbecoming: a love story — whatever. prequel spinoff whatever if im doing it

untitled modern AU — i think i had a title for this one but i forgot it maybe. it'll come back to me. anyway i'll keep lily's role in it top secret but it is musician james i fear he's a bassist i fear he's launching his solo career

THINGS I'M LOOKING FORWARD TO

susan dennard calls these magical cookies btw that is how i've always thought of them :~)

chiefly, what happened on friday january 13th 1978? but there are a lot of consequences of 52 that will hit the characters like bricks, which i'm overjoyed to write — some of which have been in the works for 2 years, some of which i made up last month!!!! which is nuts if you think about it!! if i had written 52 in 2022 as i meant to, at least two arcs as of now would literally not have happened!

the first line being "It ends with a flash of green light."

i am very excited to play around in the world of CT outside of the hogwarts setting (and with a mature rating...) — there are a lot of minor characters and events i've been sprinkling in there for this exact purpose

this lily feels a little bit more blunt/cynical than most of of my lilys have been because she's been burned before. she's really going to take no shit from james (even more than usual) and that friction will be really fun to explore. i love their childish spats but i'm also interested in writing adult versions of them who can really misunderstand and resent each other. in my head this fic is the other side of the coin to iwnma, which feels very warm and dreamy and sort of rose-coloured; this is the cold-weather 2 am rainy version of that, with the same pressures of fame and personality and art and ambition but in two characters primed to argue rather than merrily embark on an affair.

this poll is a bit cruel to options 2 through 4 i imagine but:

i'm too late to this party to tag people i think. catch you on the next tag game srry