#It holds up better than last year at least!

[esmeefreckles]

Sweet dreams

+18 SMUT MINORS DNI

WARNINGS: G!P CARO. CONSENSUAL SOMNOPHILIA. BLOW JOBS. MOMMY KINK. VAGINAL SEX. CUM INSIDE.

You’re having the most pleasant dream when suddenly, something unknown wakes you up. You blink the sleep out of your eyes, noticing the clock on the nightstand blinking 3:33 in red. You roll your eyes and try to remember the last time you slept through the whole night. It’s been years at least. You’ve never been very good at sleeping. But the woman wrapped around you has helped. You furrow back into Caro’s arms which are spooning you, her body pressed against yours.

Ever since the two of you started dating, you have found yourself sleeping better. It was much easier to doze off when Caro was cuddling with you. And it was much easier to be tired enough to doze off after Caro fucked you so nicely in only the way she could. Tonight, however, Caro had been out late, playing a UWCL game, so this was the first time you’d seen her since the previous morning. You had eventually fallen into a restless sleep before she had gotten home. You snuggle tighter into her grip and close your eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep.

And that’s when you feel it.

The hard bulge rubbing ever so slightly up and down your ass. Caro’s cock. This must’ve been what had woken you up. Heat runs through you at the thought of your girlfriend having a naughty dream. You turn over in her arms, taking extra care to not disturb her. When you’re face-to-face with Caro, you can see her furrowed brow and sweaty skin, her hips grinding just a little against nothing.

“Baby girl,” Caro whispers, her hand clutching your shoulder in her sleep, and your mouth runs dry. 

She’s dreaming of you.

A smile stretches across your mouth. This is so much better than sleeping. Caro and you had experimented with somnophilia in the past, but it was usually you who woke up to find Caro’s tongue on your clit or her fingers or cock buried in your cunt. But the thought of you being the one to wake her up like that is delicious. You gently turn Caro onto her back and pull the sheet down. She’s wearing only an oversized Barca shirt, her favorite to sleep in. It’s ridden up in her movements and her long, hard cock is completely visible. The tip is flushed and leaking. It must be a good dream she’s having. You glance up just to make sure she’s still asleep before leaning down and running your tongue up her length.

Caro groans and you freeze. She mumbles something incoherently, turning her head to the other side. You lick a few more times, keeping a close eye on her, before taking the tip into your mouth and giving it a light suck.

“Yes, baby, so good,” Caro grunts, hips raising lightly. Her dick twitches in your mouth and you can taste her precum. You use one hand to stroke the bottom of cock her and open your mouth wide and sink further down, your tongue curling against her. Caro’s hand tangles in your hair and she’s starting to stir. You know you don’t have much longer before she’s awake. You slide back and forth enthusiastically on Caro’s cock, feeling her hand tighten. Her hips have started thrusting more and you swallow around her, hearing a loud moan.

“What… oh, shit,” Caro says, fully waking up. She looks down to meet your eyes and she takes in the sight of your pretty little mouth wrapped around her cock and she cums on your tongue with a breathy gasp, spurts of her coating the inside of your mouth. She watches with wide eyes as you swallow all of her.

“Were you having a good dream, mommy?” you ask innocently. You feel her cock twitch and you raise your eyebrow playfully.

“I was. Do you want me to tell you what it was about?”

“I mean, I have a few guesses,” you joke, nodding at her length. Caro smirks and pulls you up into a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself. She puts her hands around your hips and holds you so you’re straddling her. You can feel her warm cock against your wet underwear.

“We were at a restaurant,” Caro begins, and you lean in closer to hang onto every word. “And the waitress wouldn’t stop flirting with you. She was being relentless, giving you light touches on the shoulder and winking at you. But you thought she was just being nice. It was making Mommy so mad.” Caro begins to stroke your hips with her fingertips ever so slightly and you shift in her lap. “So I had no choice but to remind you who you belong to. When the hostess came over with the check, I bent you over the table and shoved my cock into you.”

You let out an involuntary gasp at the image.

“The look on her face was delectable. Everyone turned around to watch what a good slut you were being for me. I made you look at the waitress the entire time so she could see that you were already taken. It was so hot, baby. Claiming you in front of all those people.”

You’re dripping and you can feel Caro’s cock getting harder. She slides a hand into your underwear and smirks.

“I’m not the only one who thinks that’s hot. Do you like the thought of that?”

“Yes, mommy,” you say, starting to grind on her fingers. “Need you to remind me who I belong to.” Caro grins and sits up so she can sink her teeth into your neck. You gasp and tilt your head so she has better access. Caro leaves a few more marks before flipping you on your back on the bed. You squeal and she positions herself between your legs so she can rub herself against your covered pussy.

“Since you woke me up so nicely,” Caro says, trailing kisses over her bites. “I think it’s only fair that I give you a reward.” You nod eagerly and she reaches down to move your underwear to the side. She drags her dick up and down your slit, coating it with your juices. “You’re so wet, baby.”

“Only for you,” you choke out. Caro smiles into your neck as she slowly pushes herself in.

“Fuck, baby, you’re still so tight,” Caro groans. She gives you a second to adjust when she bottoms out and then starts thrusting. You whimper every time she hits the spot only she can find. It’s embarrassing how close you already are and you can feel her twitching inside you. Looks like neither of you will last long.

“Mommy,” you whine.

“I know, baby. I’m almost there, too. Want me to fill you up?” Your walls clench involuntarily and you moan. You think your favorite feeling in the world might be having your insides painted by her cum. “Yes, mommy!”

Caro picks up the speed and reaches a finger between you two to rub your clit. You raise your hips to match her thrusts and she grunts with the exertion.

“Gonna cum, baby, gonna cum in you,” Caro pants, and suddenly, you feel bursts of heat in your cunt. She keeps fucking you through her orgasm and you quickly follow suit, your pussy walls trying to milk every last drip from her. She stays buried in you for a few moments while the two of you breathe.

You can feel her cock slowly going limp and then she slides out. You gasp at the feeling of her cum dripping out of you and she holds your legs apart to watch. You reach down and spread your folds apart so she can get a better view.

“You’re so hot, baby. I love you so much,” Caro says appreciatively and kisses you before going to get a warm washcloth. She cleans your pussy, rubbing against your clit too many times to be considered accidental, and then climbs back in bed with you.

Caro wraps her body around yours like she does every night and presses another kiss to your forehead. “Sweet dreams, darling.”

You have no trouble falling asleep after that.

[unholybacon355]

What's under my christmas tree?

Shin Ryujin x Male Reader

Word Count: 6 K

TW: Incest.

A/N:

I have to say some important things.

First, they are deeply wrong and damaged. Please notice that.

Second. I was supposed to release this on christmas eve but things happened so I'm posting it now.

And third, this is the continuation of Day 1 of my Kinktober stories. You don't need to read that after this, since is a short story gives zero context to this one. But if you want to read it you can find it on my profile.

And last one. This was supposed to be a one shot, but I thing would be better if I split it in two. So second chapter is coming soon.

CHAPTER ONE

Another family dinner, as the thousand you have had since you’re alive, nothing special about this one that makes it memorable. Just a complete normal family dinner with your dad, your mom, and your older sister. Everything normal, nothing to care about, not at all. Just the usual things like Ryujin making fun of you for being a loser and not getting bitches. She is loving messing with you while she’s rubbing her foot against your crotch under the table. Just a totally normal Christmas dinner with your family.

You’re hard and nervous at the same time. You want to take off your pants and let your sister perform a proper footjob, but for obvious reasons you can’t do that in the middle of the family dinner. She knows that and you can see in her deep brown eyes that that is exactly the reason why she’s messing with you right now.

You can remember exactly how this insane side of your relationship started. Was years ago during one of your vacation that she found you smelling an used pair of panties. You thought it was from one of her friends, Chaeryeong, who was with your family on that vacation. But ended up being one of Ryujin’s used panties instead. That crazy night she maybe had drank more than she should have and one thing led to another so you ended up putting a show from your sister and masturbating in front of her, smelling her pussy aroma from her dirty underwear while she was making fun and encouraging you at the same time. From there things were periodically escalating within days, and by the end of the vacations you two eventually ended fucking.

You seriously think that you should feel bad about the fact that at least once per month you cum inside your sister’s pussy, but seriously she’s so annoying on a daily basis that you believe that is a great compensation.

You aren't getting bitches, as Ryujin always says, and she takes advantage of that by always messing with you. Always rubbing her body against you in the most subtle ways, like for example how she did during the family photo this same evening.

You were sitting on the couch accommodating for the said photo and Ryujin just sat on your lap. The problem was that she was rubbing her ass on your crotch, causing you a massive erection. The almost imperceptibly slow and circular movement of her ass made your shaft stab her, and she was smiling all the time. No one could notice it on the photo but you were holding it to not bend her over the carpet and fuck your sister in front of the christmas tree.

And now you have her foot rubbing your erection while she's making jokes and asking you mom to pass her the salad. Your sister is a truly evil being, but you have to give credit to her for maintaining this charade. She should venture into acting since is too good at putting on that poker face while doing nasty things. 

You know how fast her expressions can change since one of her favorite activities is ruining your orgasm by looking right into your eyes with her most dirty and slutty face, and in the right moment changing to a disgusting or angry face. Your sister could easily be an actress and win an Oscar.

Is incredible how Ryuijin can manage to look like a good daughter while bringing you to the very verge of an orgasm. Her foot works on your crotch pressing and rubbing your erection  with expert and precise movements, as if she had done this countless times. And maybe she did it, since even you know the rumors about her that people tell in her campus. And it is her expert foot that finally makes you cum, but is a disappointing orgasm. Totally ruined by the fact that you can make any noise and have to maintain your composure since you're in front of your parents, still at the family dinner. Ryujin's foot immediately leaves your erection in peace when she notices that you have already cummed. 

Somehow you managed to maintain composure and not moan right there. Only your mom noticed something was wrong and asked you if everything was ok. You were quick to tell her that you have eaten so much because everything was delicious, and that's all. That was just you having a full stomach and nothing more. Deflecting all doubts into a burst of giggles from your sister. At least she helps you with this one. 

After dinner came the exchange of gifts, which you had to go through with your boxer soaked in your cum. It feels dirty and makes you worry that your parents might smell it, or your pants get stained and they could notice it. Luckily for you nothing happens and everything goes right, you even get a pretty gift from Ryujin. Which considering what she just did to you at the dinner was giving you mixed feelings.

After all, family night ended up being beautiful, as a christmas night should be for everyone. All the fun and family games ended sooner than you wish because your parents had to leave to attend a friend’s party and obviously you weren't going to be hanging out with your sister in the living room. So one second after your mom let you know that they aren’t coming back till tomorrow lunch and  leave the house, you're running to your room without giving any chance to Ryujin to mess with you again. 

Hours have passed but you are still awake, being occasionally distracted from your studies by the snow falling at the other side of the window, and for your sister’s steps coming down and up on the stairs. What she’s doing is a mystery for you and honestly you don’t wanna know, maybe she’s sneaking one of her friends in the house to get her guts rearranged. In which case you don’t wanna know, or maybe you want and you will use the sounds of Ryujin getting railed to jack off properly. Since she ruined your orgasm at dinner, that sounds fair. You’re now curious but to your surprise her steps stop in front of your door. 

“Are you still up, loser?” Ryujin asks after carefully opening your door and sticking just her head in the room. For some reason she’s wearing makeup and a christmas hat. 

“Get out, I'm studying. I have an exam next week.” You make her a gesture with your hand to leave the room but instead she blatantly steps inside. Know you really don't know what is happening because Ryujin is dressed like some kind of Santa Claus. The all red costume could be considered sexy in some way because she’s wearing a miniskirt that barely covers more than her ass, thigh highs and a crop top jacket leaving her stomach exposed. All of that topped by a cape, that is actually what is preventing her ass to be seen, and said hat. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh come on! Stop being a loser. Is christmas.” She’s putting on a show here because is pouting and stepping on the floor as if she were some kind of spoiled child. Which in part she is. “Don’t you wanna watch a movie with your sister and have a nice night? I already settled everything on the first floor.”

“Why are you suddenly being so nice?” You have the right to be suspicious since clearly your sister is plotting something here. 

“Come on Loser, is christmas. I don’t wanna waste my night sleeping, not tonight. Besides you study a lot, you're practically the first in your class. You deserve a rest too.” Well, at least she was right on that. “I already prepared hot chocolate and cookies. But if you don’t want it, all it's gonna be for me.” And recovering her bratty attitude, more or less her true nature, Ryujin sticks out her tongue and leaves your room. Obviously she didn’t close the door.

When you were about to close the door something made you change your mind and instead you shouted to the first floor. “Wait for me, I’m coming down in a minute.” Maybe she’s right and you deserved a rest after hardly studying the entire year. 

Minutes later you're amazed by what Ryujin prepared for your little movie night. She has moved things in the living room, making a big space in the middle. There on the floor she placed blankets and some pillows piled against the big couch, making a bed for you two. There is also a center tabled with what seems to be a thermos with hot chocolate and some christmas cookies, two mugs of that hot chocolate have been already served and are steaming there. All of this is being illuminated by the light of the christmas tree and the big freaking 85 inches tv your dad insisted your family needed. This scene could be romantic if not were because you two are siblings.

"Why are you suddenly doing this?" This seems like too much coming from your sister. “What are you plotting?”

“Can you not be a prick for a moment?” Ryujin seems to be a little offended by your doubts, or maybe she’s acting up again. With her you never know. “Already said it. Just wanna have a nice christmas.”

“Ok, ok. Maybe the Christmas spirit possessed you or something. Can I pick the movie or have you already prepared that too?” You ask sitting in the blankets. 

“No, you can’t.” Ryujin sits beside you and covers you two with one blanket. She puts a mug of hot chocolate in your hand and press play. Your sister had selected a romantic comedy. One of those movies that always happens in New York where a young couple inevitably falls in love, but at least it was a Christmas movie so that’s something. 

The night was so relaxing and for the first time in months you were just there having a good time. The movie ended up being quite good and you were able to enjoy it, you two were having fun after all. You didn’t even notice how or when Ryujin hugged you, this time without trying to inappropriately touch you, or how she was feeding you with pieces of cookies by putting them directly in your mouth. So for almost two hours you and your sister were laying there enjoying the movie and having a lovely night. The fact that at times this seemed more like a date than two siblings watching a movie together flew over your head, you were completely blinded by enjoying the warmth of your sister hugging you instead of fighting with her. 

By the time the movie credits appear on screen Ryujin had her head resting on your shoulder and you were petting her. This was maybe the first time you were like this in years; with no fights, no jokes, no sex, just both of you enjoying a lovely moment. But the spell broke once the movie came to at it inevitable end. That trance that blinded your eyes during the movie wasn’t present now and for the first time you were aware of Ryujin’s body pressing against yours in a tight hug. 

“Was a good movie after all, but it is late now.” You broke the reigning silence in the room, and despiste your word you weren't sure if you wanna stop hugging your sister.

“Did you like it?” She asks with her head still on your shoulder. “Never thought my little loser was into that kind of movie.”

“I’m not into it, but this movie was good. And…” Suddenly the realization that she called you “My” hit you. “Why did you call me like that? I’m not yours. Why do you always call me loser?” Your arms are no longer surrounding her body.

“You have to ruin everything, right?” Ryujin pushed you and stood up. The blanket that was covering you fell to a side, the cold hit your bodies now since each other warm was missing. “You’re my brother and I’m the only one that calls you Loser. Can’t I show some love for you now?” This sudden change in her mood surprised you.

“Ok, just calm down.” You're standing too now. “Maybe I’m suspicious since you decided to give me a footjob in the dinner. Did you forget that?”

“You’re acting as if you didn’t enjoyed it.” Well she was right, once again. “You're always so happy to cum on me and then act like if I were using you or something.” To your surprise she pushed you. That caught you off guard causing you to fall into the couch. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You quickly stand again and grab her hands when Ryujin tries to push you again. Despite being younger you were visibly taller and heavier than your sister so it wasn't too much difficult for you. “Seriously, what is happening with you?” Ryujin tried to escape from your grasp but you didn’t let her go anywhere. “The footjob, the present, the movie, and now this. Are you crazy or something?”

“Let me…” She finally can free herself, or maybe you let her go because you just noticed how tears were forming in her eyes. “ I’m just tired and really wanted to have a nice moment with someone that at least loved me in the past.” She was holding tears.

“Ryu…” You can control yourself and you surround her with your arms in a tight hug. “I still love you. You’re my sister. Yes, you’re annoying most of the time, but I still do love you.”

“Then why do you have to treat me like your sex toy?” She was sobbing now. “ Why can't you be gentle? Why at least you can’t be gentle with me?”

“Ryu, what’s happening.” You really don’t understand what’s happening here, what is this all about. “I don’t know. Maybe because you bully me when we fuck? But I like it, and… And… Maybe I don’t wanna admit that I enjoy fucking my sister.” This is really the first time you say that because it is truly the first time you two get remotely close to talk about this.

Ryujin tries to push you away but your hug is thigh. “Lier, you’re just like the others. You want me because you can fuck me everytime you want.”

“What? Nooo Ryu, no.” Seriously, this is going to a weird place. “Are the rumors true?”

“Yes, they are. I’m campus's easiest slut to fuck as everyone knows, even you had hear that.” She sobs loudly” I’m so tired of people faking that they are close to me because they wanna fuck me. I’m so tired of people trying to get me drunk because in that way is more easy to fuck me.” Your sister was losing the battle against tears because some had dropped over her cheeks. “I’m a person too. I’m capable of more things than getting my holes stuffed and moaning. I just can’t stop, I can’t feel ok if I'm not drunk or messing with you.”

“Ryu stop!” Maybe you said that a little louder than you should have. “What are you talking about?” Now you hold her face with one hand and dry her tears with the other. “You’re more than that to me. Remember, you're my sister. Don’t you remember who pulled me out of the lake that time I almost drowned when we were kids? Did you forget that time when I broke auntie’s Joohyun porcelain and you said that it was your fault so that they wouldn't scold me?” More tears came from your sister’s eyes when she heard your words. “Have you never noticed why I’m always studying so much? Is because of you. When I started college I wanted to have the same good grades as you because you're so smart. You don’t even need to study. Even now that you're drunk almost every weekend you still have good grades. How can you not see that I do care for you?”

“Lier…” Ryujin wasn’t fighting anymore. She was just there crying in silence, grabbing you tightly by your jacket.  

“Ryu, please. I really enjoy our times together… I. “ This is something you don’t wanna admit, not even in your mind, but maybe this is the only moment you could do it. “You wanna know why I’m not getting laid? Isn’t because I’m a nerd or something, in fact some girls have asked me to go on dates with them but I can’t. They aren’t annoying like you, they aren’t as smart as you… I can’t go with them.” Yeah. Your relationship with your sister was really fucked up, and for the things you were saying this was a point from no return.

“You…” Her hands were shaking. “ You really mean it?” Even with the poor light you could see a bright in her eyes when she asked that, and wasn’t the bright of her tears.

“Yes, and you can call me your loser if you want.” Now Ryujin is the one who hugged you, hiding her head in your chest but never stop crying. “But please stop crying. We still can have a good night. We can watch another movie or somet…” You weren't able to finish what you were to say because Ryujin grabbed your face and kissed you.

Was a shy kiss, something different to everything you had ever had with her. Normally your kisses are dirty, furtive, charged with sexual tension and short. This was different, more needy for something that you can’t describe at the moment, but you were kissing her too. Her tears were wetting your face while your lips were dancing together. One of her hands was still holding tightly the side of your jacket. 

After what you said, after what you admitted, this feels so different. Suddenly you're hungry for your sister, you want more from her but you remember what she said and don’t wanna break this moment. You seriously love her for more than her pussy, after all she’s your big sister, but now this kiss is doing things to you.

You don’t need to worry anymore for whatever you should do because it is Ryujin who hugs you by your neck and makes her body closer to yours. Since the blanket isn’t covering you anymore, the temperature on your bodies has started to drop, but this kiss is bringing up the thermometer. The kiss is becoming needy and her hands are playing in your neck.

You grab her by the waist , a shiver ran through her body when your hands meet her skin making her tremble for a moment. Ryujin broke the kiss panting for air. She’s not crying anymore, instead there is this new light in her eyes. Something has changed on her. You try to say something but she muted you with a quick kiss on your lips and start lifting your jacked. You help her to take off the garment and your shirt goes along with it. The cold of the winter didn’t bother you because Ryujin's hands are over your chest, you feel a strange warm coming from where she touch you and spreading across your entire body. 

“Ryu…” But she muted you again with a kiss before taking a step back. Without taking her eyes from yours Ryujin opens her jacket, leaving her cape on, and lets it fall over the blanket on the floor. She’s not wearing lingerie or something fancy as someone would think, instead she’s wearing a normal bra like she would wear on a normal day. In some way you prefer it like this, but at least said garment is red, matching the thematic of her outfit. 

She attempts to take off her thigh highs but you stop her. “No… leave the stockings… Please.” She says nothing but just takes off her miniskirt instead. Ok, she wasn’t wearing lingerie but her underwear matches, even when they were simple pieces they were matching. You found that a lovely gesture because you understand that you weren't meant to see that since she wanted to have just a nice moment with you instead of hooking up. So the makeup and all the prep was just for her to feel better and pretty.

Your sister looks beautiful standing on the blankets, wearing only her underwear and cape. To you, the light from the television and the twinkling lights from the tree don't do justice to her flawless skin. You wish this had been a moonlight night so she could be bathed for the silver light, but instead the snow is falling and pilling outside. 

You both are nervous to make the first move, as if you were a couple having their first time instead of a pair of siblings that had known each other since forever. But it is Ryujin that finally reaches you first. She hugs you and soon her hands are playing with your neck again. You can help but find her lips and share a kiss, more passionate this time. Your hands wander across her skin, caressing her waist and tummy.

Despiste Ryujin exercising regularly, her body is not that toned. It's just on the verge between being fluffy and muscular, and you find that so attractive. You can see her biceps contract when she’s carrying something heavy, or punching you, but also can see her thighs jiggle when she walks around. Seeing your sister half naked like this is like a heavenly vision to you.

By this point you have been fucking around for almost two years, but you never have seen her completely naked. Well maybe that time when you ate her pussy from behind when she was about to take a shower. But that was just for a brief moment, nothing like this where she's yours to watch and touch, even when she isn’t completely naked. Your encounters are always fast, subtitles, hiding and trying not to make a noise so your parents can´t fin their children fucking. But here and now both of you know that you can give free rein to your darkest desires.

Ryujin again is the first to move and reach your waistband making you pant fall to your ankles. Your boxer does a miserable job at hiding the tent that formed where is your dick. But how not to be hard when you’re doing this with your beloved sister? It’s impossible not to. 

“My little loser is already so excited.” Of course she has to make fun of you in a moment like this, can’t be in another way. “Let noona take care of you tonight.” She whispered that into your ear with her raspy deep voice, and made a shiver run through your spine. Or maybe it is because Ryujin is stroking your erection, and even when is covered with your boxer she still can feel your bulge throbbing in her hand when it is being inflated with blood. 

You moan and kiss her again. Maybe the loudest moan you had ever allowed her to cause on you, but is quickly muted by the kiss. Your tongue invades her mouth and she accepts it, but she’s still the one that’s guiding the kiss. After all, your sister is the one with more experience here. You only have kissed a couple of girls before rejecting them, so your sister’s are the lips you have tasted the most.  

She takes off your boxer too and you kick it away with the rest of your clothes. Now you're totally naked and in her hands to do whatever she wants. The imbalance of power is evident here but you don’t care, after all Ryujin said that she will take care of you and you believe in her. So the gentle push she gave you on your chest didn't take you off guard this time, but still made you fall into the couch. 

“Shhhh.” She muted you by putting a finger over your lips when you opened your mouth to say something, and instead of letting you know what she was gonna do, Ryujin just knelt down between your legs. You knew what was coming by the way she was staring at your shaft with those feline eyes, as if a lion were stalking their prey. Ryujin wrapped her fingers around your erection once again and gave you gentle strokes, immediately a drop of precum forms on your tip. 

You feel her tongue on your head collecting your precum, and her warm breath on your shaft. The view you have is amazing and your sister stares back at your eyes, looking to your soul, when she starts engulfing your tip and slowly but never stopping she swallows your meat till her lips touch her hand. A big portion of your erected shaft is in your sister’s mouth, and you feel so comfortable being surrounded by her warmth that you don't even bother on think that this is wrong.

And then, Ryujin starts sucking your dick, but again something feels different. This is not fast, she’s taking her time to give you an actual blowjob and not just some quick blows. She strokes you at a slow pace while her head is going up and dong on your dick, her tongue also is playing around your meat maximizing the pleasure you're receiving. As she said, your sister is taking care of you.

“Relax, loser.” Her voice is so calm, and despiste calling you names you know this time she isn’t making fun of you. All you can do is pet her head and caress her hair while she continues sucking your shaft. The feeling is so amazing, like no other head she has ever given you. Your dick feels so welcome inside her warm mouth. 

Your sister doesn't go really deep, just swallowing half of your dick, but this still is so pleasant. Her tongue dances around your shaft in ways that you even knew were possible. That makes your breath heavy and by the look on her eyes she’s proud of that, she likes what she’s making you feel. But she still gives you more and the blowjob becomes messier and sloppy. Ryujin is now coating your shaft with her saliva.

When Ryujing takes your shaft out of her mouth it is so covered in her saliva that some drops fall into your balls. “Come here.” She makes space for you in the blankets beside her, and you let yourself slide from the couch to the floor. Your sister loses no time and sits on your lap, pressing her clothed core into your wet shaft. 

She finds your lips again, and despite feeling your taste on her mouth you don’t wanna be kissing someone else. Your hands find her ass and knead her plump buttocks. A needy moan is released right into your mouth at the time your sister starts riding you, and her hands are cupping your face. The way she moves over you drives you crazy and makes her underwear wet, you can feel it even with your shaft coated in her saliva, so her pussy must be completely soaked by her own juices.

“Just let me…” Ryujin raised her body a little to slide her panties to the side, releasing her pussy from the embrace of the fabric. Then she aligns her glistening folds over your tip and descends slowly, taking your dick at a tortuous pace. “You feel soooo stretching me out.” Her voice is so low when she talks again, but you still can hear traces of her raspy tone on it. “You’re filling me so well, Loser.” She don’t move, instead Ryujin just kiss your face and plays with your hair. Right now she’s so far from being the bully and annoying sister that she has been this past years.  

When Ryujin moves her hips again, you feel how her walls tighten around your throbbing shaft. That feels delicious, to say it in one way. Her warm wetness is surrounding your hard meat, and her lips are glued to yours in a passionate shared kiss. She rides you slowly, enjoying every movement and releasing waves of pleasure through your bodies. 

Once again, as you have been so many times, you're so buried inside your sister’s cunt. But despite all the times you have done this, this time feels more pleasant. Like if you had unblocked a new level of passion between you two. Something that wasn't supposed to be archived by a pair of siblings. A bonding really forbidden.

You need more of her body, so your hands reach for the back of her bra, but you struggle to get it open. You haven’t done it enough times to memorize the process yet. “Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” The words are followed by a small giggle. “Another day I'll teach you to open it with just one hand.” Ryujin bites your lower lip and you get nervous causing  your hands to slip from her bra. “Try it again.” Isn’t a order, is most like a petition. “Take off noona’s bra. I want my tiddies sucked.” You finally get the strength and concentration to get the damn clasp of her bra open. She laughs amused and throw her bra way, finally releasing her breasts. 

Her tiddies aren’t big, but are big enough to fill your hands. Her nipples feel so stuffed and you caressing them makes them harder. But regardless of the fact that this feels amazing, this isn’t what your sister said she wants. She was clear on her petition, she wants her tiddies sucked and you’re no one to refuse it. 

As soon as your mouth meets her right tit you feel how Ryujin’s arch her back. By pure instinct your tongue is playing with her hard nipple, and by the moans she’s releasing you think you’re doing good. Your other hand is on her left breast, playing with it as well. Ryujin practically huge your head holding you in place, so you can’t stop sucking her tits, and you do as you were told. From time to time you change what of her tiddies is on your mouth and what is being caressed by your hand, but you never stop sucking and your sister never stops riding you. 

Her movements are now faster and messier. You feel her wetness around you and how her walls embrace your throbbing shaft. The way she makes you feels is so amazing, never ever before fucking your sister has been so pleasant. Apparently she’s having a good time too, because her moans never stop. In fact, they are just becoming louder as she rides you and you play with her tits. 

“You're making noona feel so good.” You didn’t need a confirmation because you already could feel it, but her words are well received. The way she’s moaning, the way you make your sister moan and shiver in pleasure make you feel proud. Despite not being experienced you still can make Ryujin have a good time, and not one of those furtive hook ups you have been having.

“God, those batches don’t know what they’re missing.” Ryujin manages to say between her moans and whimpers. “My little brother's cock feels so good inside me.” Her dirty but affirmative words toward you make your dick throb inside her. 

You redoubles your attacks over her tiddies, sucking and kissing. Rolling her nipples between your fingers and covering them in saliva with your mouth.

 “You want noona to cum over you? To mark you?” You can’t respond because your mouth is busy sucking her left tiddie, but you can suck harder to let her know you want her to reach her orgasm over you, in your arms. Apparently the massage is well received because she changes the pace of her hips.

Now your sister’s movements are slower but conscious, she’s never breaking the pace. Also she’s taking you as deep as she can every time your hips meet, making your shaft completely disappear inside her.

Despite being a cold Christmas night, with snow falling and all, your bodies are warming each other to the point you feel no cold. Plus this is so pleasant that nobody could focus on feeling cold when you have your beautiful sister riding your cock.

“This feel good? Noona is taking good care of you?” She kisses your forehead in a gesture that's way too romantic for the situation, but honestly you don't care anymore. What's the point on denying that you aren't just fucking but you're making love with your sister? There is no worse blind than the one who doesn't want to see, they say. And maybe it is time to open your eyes and accept those feelings. No matter how twisted they are.

Maybe Ryujin needs someone that actually loves and takes care of her too, instead of just wanting to stuff her holes. And maybe you can be that person, or at least you can be there for her till she finds someone. But honestly, who can be better for her than you?

“My little loser is making noona feel so good.” The control she has over her voice even when is so close to orgasm is amazing. You feel how messy and fast her movements are, but nothing of that can be spotted on her voice. She sounds calm, with her deep raspy voice doing things to you. Making you throb inside of her as if you have a second heart down there.

Finally the wetness of her core drench your balls letting you know she reached the precious climax. But not just that, because you can hear how your sister is moaning right into your ear. Ryujin is still riding you, slowly decreasing her pace till she’s sitting in your lap, with your shaft buried inside her. 

She’s practically panting because she did almost all the effort, but hair isn’t what she needs now. All your sister can think is on finding your lips and sharing one of those passionate kisses with you. Ryujin is holding your face, not forcing you but not wanting you to go. She doesn't need hair because she can have that anytime, all she needs now is the only person that doesn't see her as a slut.

Time gets blurry when you are passionately kissing your sister like that. Hungry but also slowly, in a way you have never felt before. No girl’s lips made you feel like this before, is a new hunger that you just found and don’t know if it is right that you are satisfying it. This gluttony may be a capital sin.

“That was good.” Ryujin said before kissing your forehead again and playing with your hair. “Best orgasm I’ve had in a long time.” Your sister hugs you seeking for your body heat on this cold winter night. You are just there, laying on the floor with your sister hiding from the world under her christmas cape and between your arms. 

“What about me having an orgasm too?”

“Don’t know if you deserve one.” Her head is resting on your shoulder. “It's your punishment for making me cry.”

“I thought I made you cry with pleasure.” You joke while lovely petting her black hair, as if your balls were not coated on sex fluids for the second time that night. All your sister’s fault.

“Don’t be that bold, Loser. You are still not that capable. But…” She pauses to ponder whether she should say the following or not. “Maybe noona can give you another lesson. Another Christmas gift.” She said before kissing your jaw and asking with a whisper right into your ear. “Wanna be a big boy and fuck noona in the ass?”

[hikidoll]

꒷‧₊˚ 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞 ! (fem reader implied, fluff!!!)

your typically cold friend surprises you with a last minute christmas present. turns out he pays attention to you more than you thought..

megumi fushiguro | katsuki bakugo | tobio kageyama, kei tsukishima | & any of your favs!

this was stupid. he shouldn’t be here. of course, you weren't expecting him. it wasn’t like you guys were close, not like that. what was he even doing here? he wasn’t good at this kind of thing... being thoughtful, doing sweet gestures. it felt foreign, uncomfortable. but when he thought about your face lighting up, that little laugh you always tried to hide behind your hand, his resolve hardened. he huffed, tugging his hood tighter against the wind as he approached your apartment door. "she better fuckin' be here.." he muttered to himself, fumbling with a gift wrapped box in his hands. he stared down at the box, a flurry of second thoughts rushing into his mind. "are we even close enough for gifts?" "what if" this and "what if" that. his mind always got the best of him in these kinds of moments. it was the same reason he hadn't mustered up the courage to ask you out yet. he’d spent more time than he’d like to admit hunting it down, scouring shops and questioning every choice. was this the right one? would she even care? was this… enough? he hated how much he cared about getting it right. it wasn’t like he was trying to make an impression or anything. at least, that’s what he told himself. the small box felt heavier in his hands than it should’ve. he turned it over idly, the edges of the neatly folded paper rough against his calloused fingers. it was stupid, really—how nervous he felt about something as simple as giving you a gift. just knock, he told himself. it’s not a big deal. you’re just giving her a gift.

but it was a big deal. at least, it felt that way. he’d spent far too long debating whether or not to even buy the damn thing. and then he’d spent even longer pacing the aisle of the store, trying to decide if the wrapping paper mattered. he hesitated in the doorway, unsure of how to even start. finally, he gathered the courage to knock on your apartment door, holding the gift box behind him.

the second you opened the door, he felt sick to his stomach. fuck. it was something only looking at you could do to him. it affected him more than he'd ever admit. "hey! what're you doin' here?" you said with a smile, leaning on the doorway. you had no clue how dangerous your smile was to him. immediately, he felt his cheeks heat up. he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "i was uh, just in the area, y'know? thought i'd drop something off." he muttered, his voice coming out rougher than he intended.

you blinked, glancing at the box in his hand, then back at him. “really?” your voice was soft, uncertain, and it hit him harder than he expected. why did you sound so.. surprised?

he nodded, his throat suddenly dry. “yeah.” he muttered, his usual sharpness barely masking the nerves buzzing under his skin. you nodded, stepping aside for him to come into your apartment. "well, come in! it's freezing out here.." you said, gesturing for him to follow you inside. he nodded casually, hesitantly stepping inside your warm, comfortable apartment. of course, the way you decorated your apartment was no surprise to him. it was so.. uniquely you. of course, you guys had been friends for years, but for some reason he'd never been to your apartment. he'd dropped you off a few times when you needed a ride, but truthfully, you guys hadn't spent much time alone together. this all felt so new.. but not unwelcome. you plopped down casually on your sofa, gesturing for him to sit beside you, and hesitantly, he did. "you know, you didn't have to get me anything-" you said, your voice littered with the faintest bit of nervousness, your gaze flickering between him and the neatly wrapped box. it was your favorite color, of course. he felt embarrassed that he remembered such small details. like the color of your eyes, or the way the freckles and moles were arranged on your face would make the prettiest constellation in the sky. “just open it,” he interrupted, his tone a bit harsher than he intended. he immediately winced, softening his voice. “i mean… it’s nothing big. just something you mentioned.” he shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "well, would you rather me go return it?" he teased. the way you giggled and shook your head in response made him feel off balance. "no, of course not! i love gifts." you responded with a giddy smile, hands fidgeting anxiously in your lap. he nodded, holding held the box out awkwardly, his palms suddenly feeling clammy. your fingers brushed his as you took the box, and he tried not to think too much about how warm your touch was. he shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. he watched you hesitate for a moment, like you weren't sure if you should open it right now or wait until later. he noted the way you handled it so delicately, carefully pulling away at the wrapping paper. your excited giggle cut through the tension in the apartment as you tore away the wrapping paper around the box. then, you gasped. "oh my gosh!" you exclaimed, revealing an adorable hello-kitty stuffie, a limited edition one as well. then, regardless of all his overthinking and anxiety, seeing your reaction was the best gift he had gotten. your eyes lifted to meet his, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. but he nodded, pretending like this wasn’t the best decision he’d made in a long time. "i'm guessing you like it?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest. "i love it!" you say, clutching the stuffie close to your heart. but the smile on your face faltered for a moment, "i feel really bad now.." you mutter, staring down at the plushie in your hands with a stomach full of guilt. "i wish i had gotten you something, but i-" quickly, he interrupted, "don't even start that shit. its fine." he reassured you with a small, rare smile. and even better, it was.. genuine. "just glad you liked it, i guess." he added with a nonchalant shrug. he could've sworn your eyes were glowing with pure happiness, and thought about how it would feel to get lost in them, before he mentally berated himself for being such a sappy idiot. he shrugged, trying to act indifferent even as heat crept up his neck. “it’s not a big deal.”

“it is to me,” you replied, your voice so full of sincerity that made him feel like the ground was shifting beneath him “i love it,” you said, your voice steady now, but warm in a way he wasn’t used to hearing. “thank you. really.” you clutched the stuffed animal in your arms with a small, satisfied smile. he nodded, not trusting himself to speak. you were too close, your gratitude too raw, and he wasn’t sure what to do with the way it made him feel. he expected you to tease him the way you usually did.

but what he didn’t expect was for you to set the plushie down on the small table beside you both and lean forward, and wrap your arms around him in a hug. your arms were warm, and your head rested lightly against his chest. he sat there, stiff as a board, his brain short-circuiting.

he could count the number of hugs he’d gotten in his life on one hand, and this was by far the most unexpected. slowly, awkwardly, he brought his arms up and rested them lightly around you, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. “y-yeah,” he muttered, his voice coming out way too soft. “it’s nothing.” he blinked, his mind racing. what was happening? why was he suddenly feeling like he’d been punched in the gut?

but it wasn’t nothing. not at all. as you pulled back, your smile brighter than he’d ever seen it, he felt something shift inside him. he’d thought the fluttering in his chest was just nerves or embarrassment. and as you held the plushie close, your fingers brushing over its beaded eyes, he realized something he hadn’t before.

this wasn’t just about the gift. it was about you. about the way you deserved things like this—things that made you smile, things that made you feel seen.

and then it finally hit him. god damn, he was helplessly in love with you.

and judging by the way you clutched the hello kitty plush like it was the most precious thing in the world, he was in deeper trouble than he’d ever imagined. for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like such an idiot for caring.

shit. how the hell did this happen?

just a silly little thang i procured when i was bored. haven't wrote anything in a while, so i hope its okay! did not proof read- too lazy i fear... enjoy :3 ©hikidoll inc. do not copy.

[manicandobsessive]

I’ll be watching you | L.H.

Summary: You and Logan broke up two months ago. Yet, he can’t find it in himself to move on.

Warnings: Fem!reader, slightly toxic!logan, pet names, alludes to reader being shorter than Logan, (Lo can’t regulate his emotions but we love him nonetheless)

A/N: Hi! I made a lil one shot for yall. this is ofc based on the song every breath you take by the police. i’m trying to get ch 2 of my series out asap but it’s taking a toll on me creatively so i needed to just have a little break. thank you so much for the support and patience. love you guys! <3

It’d been 2 months since Logan ended things with you. And in those two months, he’d felt nothing but resentment towards himself. He got in the way of another good thing for the sake of his own sanity and your safety. Or at least that’s what he was telling himself. Did he regret it every second of every hour? Absolutely. You were the best damn thing to happen to him in years. Decades even. You were his world, and in all honesty, still are.

Just because he broke it off didn’t mean he wasn’t going to leave you alone, however. Because Logan is simply- Logan. And what’s his is his. He was reluctant to let go of any part of you, despite the better part of him telling himself to get over it and be an adult.

He never was a good listener.

Logan breaking up with you was an end all be all to say the least. Sure, you’d loved before. And yeah you’d had your fair share of experiences with relationships. But Logan, he was different. Never before had you seen yourself with someone for the rest of your life so clearly. He was it for you. He made you wonder if the other times you’d thought you were in love was really that or just basic infatuation.

Loving Logan didn’t come without its struggles, though. He pushed you away when he got scared, even if he refused to admit it. He left without a word and wouldn’t return for hours, only to come back to you smelling like a dive bar and holding flowers. He was possessive, and still is. You’ve noticed, and it only stings more. He’d never been controlling, he let you live your own life as he lived his. But, he loved to make sure everyone knew who you belonged to. That there would never be a question if you were available or not.

And god help anyone who dared to try despite that.

In the same respect, you never once questioned his love for you. His loyalty was unwavering, and he never so much as looked in another woman’s direction. He knew you, inside and out. From your favorite song to the reasons you were hesitant to love again. He could gauge your mood the minute you opened your eyes in the morning. He did anything and everything he could to make you smile, even if it made him feel like an idiot. And in some ways, he was a damn lovesick fool. Everyone around you knew it as well. With the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, and how he couldn’t go a minute without touching you in some way. Needless to say- not only your friends, but the entire mansion was shocked to see he’d ended things.

You felt him all around you. He never truly left. His scent still lingered in your room, just as yours did to his own. His clothes were hung in your closet, things you’d claimed that he’d never dare to take back. Dead flowers from the last time he’d given you them still stood in the corner of your room, unable to be looked at without a pang of hurt ringing through your entire body. He kept all the things you’d given him, pictures, notes, books, music. He still carried a part of you with him daily, whether it be the song he was listening to or the note from you he’d reread a million times over. He was baffled by the way you loved him, and he kicked himself over and over again for ruining that.

He hung around often, walking past your classroom or the common area where you sat talking with Ororo and Jean. The smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes. It hasn’t since that day two months ago. Logan and you both knew. Neither of you had felt real emotion since then, it was like color was drained from the world. All because of his stupidity.

He watched you interact with Kurt, a kind- soft gaze you always seemed to give people. Even in your worst moments. His knuckles turned white at the scene. You were bantering back and forth over some book you found Kurt had also enjoyed. Logan longed for the days where he was on the receiving end of your limitless tangents. He would sit and listen to you talk for days and not bat an eye. And the fact that someone else now was getting that treatment- it didn’t sit right with him. So, the minute you stood and waved your goodbye to Kurt. He shifted behind the doorway, out of your line of vision. And the moment you stepped within reach, a hand clasped around your wrist. A familiar touch that sent a jolt of emotion through you. The most you’d felt in a while.

You simply stopped in place, taking a deep breath through your nose. You shifted to face him- Logan. The man you hadn’t spoken to since the day he decided to leave. The man you’d been avoiding so much as breathing towards since then.

“The fuck was that?” He snapped. His tone was that of a growl and it made a shiver run down your body. You knew what he was feeling. You’d heard him like this a handful of times.

“Huh? Talkin’ to him like he’s your boyfriend or somethin’?”

You’d had enough of his shit. How dare he break your heart and then pretend like you belong to him.

“And so fucking what if he is, Logan?”

He stepped closer, now towering over you. Yet, you weren’t scared nor were you intimidated. You never would be, not of him. Because even in the midst of heartache, you knew he’d never hurt you. Not like that.

He bent at the waist, his face inches from your own. Everything from his scent to his warmth engulfed you wholly. It made your breath hitch.

“Better fuckin’ hope for his sake he ain’t. You’re mine, doll. Belong to me.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling your wrist from his grasp. You walked away without another word. The way you left him there, it hurt more than he’d admit to himself. But he was keen on making it known that you weren’t to be touched by anyone else.

From that day on, you noticed him around more often than not. He sat on the couch when you were in the kitchen. He smoked outside when you hung in the living room to watch you from the window. He walked past your room, only to hear the occasional hum of a tune or turn of a book page. He was becoming a shadow, borderline stalking you. It would scare you, but you enjoyed knowing you still had his full attention. That you were on his mind as much as he was on yours. And sure- it was toxic, but it was something.

Things came to a head after a heated argument earlier in the day, a few weeks later. He’d been lurking around and you’d told him to get a life. That you would never belong to him again. And that, above all else, you didn’t love him anymore. Which was as far from the truth as you could get, but it was your last shot at being half as harsh as he could be. To break his heart like he did to yours.

You didn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning restlessly with thoughts of Logan plaguing your mind. He, too, didn’t get a wink of sleep. So after hours of listening to you rustling in your own bed, he made his way across the hall to your room. Not bothering to knock and simply opening the door softly. He shut it behind him, and from the simple way he padded over to your bed, you knew it was Logan. You stayed facing the window, your back to him.

“Baby,” He whispered into the darkness, your figure the only thing illuminated by the moonlight.

He invited himself into the warmth of your bed, knowing damn well you’d come around. As you felt the bed dip, you didn’t have it in yourself to be angry. You simply sniffled and shut your eyes. He shifted closer to you, draping an arm around your waist as naturally as he used to. He nuzzled his face into your hair inhaling the scent he loved so much. And with that, he whispered yet again.

“Baby, please.” A silent plea for forgiveness. Enough for you to flip around, face to face with him.

“Lo’” You rasped, your voice weak from not only crying but pure exhaustion. He tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you into his chest. You revelled in his warmth, moving as close as humanly possible. Much to his content.

“Shh.” He hushed, his free arm now brushing through your soft hair. A tried and true method of comfort for you. “I know, I know. ‘M so sorry, darlin’.” He kissed your head and felt the salty tears from your eyes drop to his chest. It made his heart ache all the more.

“You hurt me.” You spoke out, unmoving from where you resided in his grasp. He sighed, still silent. No excuse or apology would be enough, he felt. You deserved more, but selfishly, he wanted to be the one to give it to you anyways.

“But I love you, and I can’t stop.”

His breath stopped and his movements froze. He shifted to now look at your face. Your tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes. Yet you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I love ya, baby. Always will.” He spoke, deep and rough.

“And ‘m a damn idiot for fuckin’ this up. Ruinin’ the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It was your turn to make a move, and all you could do was allow him to kiss the tears off your face. Maybe it would be a mistake trusting him with your heart again. But when it came to Logan, love won over logic. Every damn time.

[shinyzango]

So, 2025...

Now that we're officially in 2025, and I finally recovered from the new year allnighter so I can finally reason, let's finally talk about personal objectives for the year.

2025 is going to be... a busy year for me. I got many plans on the line that I am going to hopefully achieve by the end of the year.

First of all, the biggest most important thing is that starting from this year, I'm officially a Freelancer Artist. Yes until now I've kept doing it as a side thing, but seeing how things are going, I'm going to see how it'll work out. While the prospect of fully center my job around art is rather intimidating to me, I really cannot think of any other job I can undertake as a primary income source. I will make this work. In prospect of this, things are most likely to change a bit commissions wise as I will have to adapt elements (such as prices and request form) in order to fit better with this. I apologize if this will make it harder for folks to buy something for me, but it is a necessary change. But on the other side, I do want to push myself out there and start actually leaving a mark. I want to be seen, to join projects and help bringing them to life. It's time I get out of my shell for good.

Another objective for the year, as I mentioned before, is to officially start putting down "The Last Nutcracker". I think I waited long enough and I can't keep hold it back further. When I will start, that I cannot say for certain. But it is going to happen.

Then, I want to stream more. Both Art and Games. I want to hang out and have fun, share my experiences with everyone. I have a long list of games I want to stream as I mentioned before (with even more games than what I did list as I slowly remembered more games I want to play), and I want to get around to play through them. Have a proper stream setup and all.

What else... well, there are smaller personal objectives, such as get the driving license for cars, learn japanese, find a physical activity that I enjoy doing in order to get back in shape, meeting up with my irl friends more often, rent a table at a comic convention at least once...

and definitely more objectives that my brain is most likely forgetting about at the moment.

This is going to be a busy year. But it is going to be THE year. A year of changes. Of improvement. I will make sure of it.

And I wish it will be the same for everyone else. I know we're currently in a period where a lot of shit is happening and everything looks bleak, but it's important to remember that even if the world is shit, we can still work to make our lives that more enjoyable for ourselves. It all starts with us.

We can do it.

Happy New Year, folks. Let's fuckin rock this year.

[martsonmars]

Hi friends! I keep committing and recommitting to making a serious effort to come back to the fandom, and I think this time finally I got my Snowbaz feelings back for real. So I'm going to try. Thank you to everyone who kept tagging me; I'm a little lost re: new people existing on Tumblr, but I hope to catch up!

So much to do in this post. For now, some snippets.

Exhibit A: my writing goal for the month. It's okay if it doesn't work out, but I decided I need short-term writing goals and this is my first one.

Baz pushes his sunglasses up his nose, staring at the man behind the counter of the shop. He hopes that hiding in plain sight—without his costume, without his mask—is a more effective disguise than trying to wear a fake moustache.

The apron is there, gloriously stretching over a broad chest that does not turn Baz's insides into soup and make him wish he could go back three—five, ten—years and do everything differently.

Exhibit B: COBB idea. I'm so excited!!!!!!!!!!!!

Going right is never the right choice.

I've known this since the first time my father brought me along on his travels (read: I hid in his trunk) and I had to face a crocodile armed only with a blunt Swiss Army knife I'd stolen from said trunk. All because I'd turned right. And then right again.

When he found me, scraped knees and his precious knife lost in the belly of the beast, he didn't even yell. He just looked at me like he always did. Like the biggest disappointment in his life of failures.

Exhibit C: potential second COBB idea, that I'm going to submit only if I make enough progress by the end of the month.

[Baz] holds my hand like it's the only thing keeping him grounded. Present. The minutes are trickling away from us like sand in a broken hourglass. The sun hasn't started rising yet, the night as dark as it gets, the cold seeping into our bones.

He holds my hand like he's afraid he'd float away if he didn't.

I know I'd be glad if it happened.

I have a lot of fandom resolutions for this year and I'm scared they'll end up like any New Year's resolutions... but I'll list them anyway. 6 resolutions Sunday:

Be more involved on Tumblr. I want to post more, but especially start reblogging and commenting on things again.

Write more. Last year I wrote so little and posted even less, and it made me sad when I realised it in the past days. So much was going on, so I don't blame myself, but I miss writing and I believe I can try to make it a regular thing again.

I want to read more fics. It's been years since I last read fics consistently. I missed everything!! Time to slowly catch up.

Relatedly, I want to try to comment more. I've never been a great commenter because it overwhelms me, but it's hypocritical since I need everyone and their brother to leave 10 paragraph long comments on everything I write... So I want to commit to doing better.

I want to try to publish a fic every month, at least. @palimpsessed suggested doing some sort of monthly countdown to Carry On's birthday in October and I'm all in.

I want to succeed at COBB. For one reason or the other, more often than not because I am cursed and I never finished writing my things, I've never managed to start and finish posting something for COBB. But I have two concepts I'm so excited about (not sure yet if I'll try both of them) and I want to commit to doing well. Wish me good luck.

My good old tagging list <3 I hope to add new people soon! But hi my dear old friends, how's it going?

@facewithoutheart @sillyunicorn @onepintobean @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @larkral @raenestee @stitchyqueer @hushed-chorus @technetiumai @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon @imagineacoolusername @blackberrysummerblog @theearlgreymage @rimeswithpurple @messofthejess @alexalexinii @whatevertheweather @jbrrring @prettygoododds @youarenevertooold @best--dress @theotherhufflepuff @monbons @run-for-chamo-miles @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @dragoneggos @gekkoinapeartree @ionlydrinkhotwater @erzbethluna @shemakesmeforget @basiltonbutliketheherb @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @noblecorgi @j-nipper-95

[gayforink]

you and me from the night before

January 1st - Glow | Prongsfoot | word count: 919 | @taylorswiftmicrofic

A/N: This is longer than 500 words 😭. Hope you like it!

A soft thump, and a muffled “Fuck!”

James shuffles next to him. It's the only thing Sirius can register; the movements of his best friend’s hands, clumsy with liquor. They barely managed to coax the Fat Lady into letting them into the Gryffindor common room after a raucous New Year’s Eve party in the Hufflepuff common room. They expected the rest of the night to be calmer, but their dorm room door is stuck. Remus isn’t likely to wake up at this hour, Peter’s a lost cause, and the other dormitory for boys in their year is filled with a bunch of stuck up fools who wouldn’t open for James and Sirius. Not after the four of them filled their bookbags with dungbombs, at the very least. 

“P’foot,” James mumbles. “Padfoot, I’m giving up. That’s it.” The younger boy pants, slipping down to the floor and looking up at Sirius through foggy glasses. Sirius looks down, bracing his hands against the rich fabric covering the walls. 

“We could just stay out here,” Sirius agrees. The night is slipping into morning anyway; he’d seen traces of light splitting through the dark sky as they rushed to their rooms. The party ran late; one of the seventh years’ last desperate hurrahs against the ticking clock of their time at Hogwarts. They can all feel it; the quiet fear that grows with each day. Remus deals with it by slipping further into himself, avoiding everyone except for their group. Peter grows more and more anxious, reading news of the brewing war like it’s something to pray to. And James–he grows more exuberant, louder and happier, as though his joy’s a life-saving raft, something to hold onto. 

Sirius can’t say anything about it. It’s the only thing he’s been holding onto for the past seven years. 

He sits down next to his best friend, leaning against the cold door as he stares into the darkness. James is almost uncharacteristically quiet before–

A sharp light explodes into existence, lighting James’s face. The younger boy held his wand up, smiling softly. 

Sirius scoffs. “Do you want someone to come outside and see us? Idiot, turn it off!”

‘It’s not like we’re making any noise!”

“Even still,” Sirius says. James eyes him with knowing eyes. 

“Are you okay?” He asks instead. Sirius…can’t say anything to that. 

“What do you mean?” He mumbles after an uncomfortable moment, looking away from the light. 

“You know what I mean,” James presses. “You’ve been off all week, Padfoot. Especially tonight.”

Sirius stays silent. What can he say? That he is afraid of leaving Hogwarts, of growing up into a war? That he is afraid? 

To James?

But he didn’t have to. James kisses his teeth, turning to look at Sirius. 

“When we leave–” And James takes his hand, holding it with a strong grip. Sirius wants to turn away, but he can’t, he can’t. James smiles and James glows. “When we leave here, you come with me. We don’t have to stay with Mum or Dad. I’ve the gold for an apartment.” 

Sirius stares. 

“In London,” James continues. “It’s small, but it’s close to the Ministry and it’ll be convenient. With Auror training and all.” They planned to join as Auror Trainees after Graduation, helping with the war effort. There’s also Dumbledore’s elite crew of fighters; the headmaster had already called the four of them to meetings in the Hog’s Head. 

Sirius swallows, feeling off-kilter. “What about Evans?” 

“Lily?” James grins, all cocky. “What, you don’t want her coming around?” 

Sirius flushes, hoping that it would seem like more of prudish self-consciousness rather than the shameful jealousy he knows it to be. James turns back to his lit wand. It’s better to have him looking away, to not have to face earnest hazel eyes. 

“So what do you think?” James asks. “Will you come?”

There is a lump in his throat. Sirius can feel his eyes burning, and hopes fervently that he won’t cry now. He hasn’t cried in years! 

He breathes through his mouth, trying to compose himself. Sirius ignores the question, changing the topic instead. “Will you turn that stupid light off? You look stupid.” 

“I never look stupid,” James says. Sirius scoffs, but he feels lighter. The seconds trickle away, quiet with the coming days. The only easy ones they have left. 

Sirius swallows and clears his throat. “I’ll–I’ll come with you,” There’s more to say, but Sirius can’t say it, can’t say it now, not to James. It didn’t matter. He can feel his best friend’s joy, an expanding sun, just for Sirius. James laughs. 

“This is cause for celebration, you know,” James tells him. “You shouldn’t be moping around.”

“I’m not moping around.”

“You are moping around. Don’t lie to yourself.”

Sirius turns to face him, stretching his face into a grotesque smile with his fingers. “Am I moping now?”

James pinches his cheeks, snickering when Sirius winces. He’s still holding Sirius’s face when their laughter declines, and he beams softly, tilting his head forward. “I’m serious, Padfoot. Don’t be sad tonight.” His forehead bumps against Sirius’. It’s too much, too soft. Sirius closes his eyes.

“Padfoot,” James nudges. “Sirius.”

Sirius opens his eyes. 

“Smile,” James says. He’s still smiling. And glowing, like he always does. The light weaves warm rays through his hair, making his eyes shine like a thousand stars. So happy and welcoming that Sirius melts into it, without even realising it. The light flickers, bright and warm. Glowing.

And Sirius melts.

[imheretofuckspiders]

it's 2:30am time for more martin!jonah angsty bullshit

why can't i ever come up with good happy wholesome stuff for these gays. why is it always sad sad depressing shit.

imagine if jon was more competent. a gertrude-like figure in the archives, existing to piss off his dickhead boss and keeping his assistants alive as much as possible. taking on monsters of the month like spooky batman and never fully manifesting the ability to just Know things.

and by his side, martin k. blackwood. employed at the institute even before jon, working twice as hard to prove himself and always able to adapt to any situation. hired to the archives mostly as a joke, and the fact that the lack of any close family or friends to recognise a sudden disappearance made him perfect for the expendable position of archival assistant.

them becoming closer after enduring the horrors together. jon growing from a cranky old man who hates martin to a cranky old man who would burn a city for martin. martin being jon's reliable anchor to the world despite the creatures that prowl in its shadows.

there are two ways this can go under the watchful Eye of jonah magnus, who is quite keen not to have Gertrude 2.0 in the archives.

path no.1: jonah restarts

were jon more competent, he'd eventually catch onto the machinations of magnus. and there's a chance he'd take the same route as gertrude: scorched earth.

jonah, trying to avoid this as little as possible, sets up a little 'accident' for jon once he knows too much. he's irritated that now he has to go to the trouble of finding yet another archivist. and he's running out of time. or at least, elias bouchard is running out of time. he needs a newer, younger body.

and what better vessel than the newly bereaved martin blackwood? his grief from losing jon makes him vulnerable. all it takes is a little lie from 'elias' to convince him to come to the panopticon itself, involving some phony ritual to see jon again.

shortly after, elias bouchard is dead of a brain aneurysm. and experienced, clever, sharp-eyed martin k. blackwood ascends to head of the magnus institute.

path no.2: this one is even sadder

the dynamic in the archives is now more 'office rom-com' than 'constant paranoia'. martin, jon and the rest of the archive crew are always on top of whatever threat emerges next. communication is key, except in one aspect.

jon refuses to examine his feelings for martin. scanning his desk for clues as to things he likes and putting on a show of his appreciation for martin's tea are just normal things for bosses to do to make their employees more comfortable.

martin fell hard a long time ago. still holding out hope after all these years that jon might reciprocate his feelings. after all the office gossip, martin isn't even sure that jon does relationships. still, he brings in his tea in what he knows to be jon's favourite mug, and lingers just long enough for an amusing conversation but not enough to imply that he's slacking off.

and jonah magnus Watches, and fumes. his Archivist, his beloved Archivist, is distracted by this boy. this boy with the nerve to have been underestimated by magnus. and now together they make a mockery of everything jonah has worked towards. meaning that jon now needs to be turned back towards the path of Beholding, and that it's going to take a lot longer than jonah originally thought. much longer than an able-bodied elias bouchard is going to last.

hell, jonah would take any opportunity to get closer to the Archivist.

suddenly, elias bouchard suffers a fatal heart attack. it's been years since jon and martin joined the archives, and despite martin's faked credentials his extended work experience makes him more than qualified for a high-ranking position. in the three days that it took between martin to be named the new head of the magnus institute and his actual ascension to the position, jon faces a dilemma.

he might not see martin as much. he'll be cooped up in his new office with rosie facilitating every one of his interactions. while they'll still be able to talk every now and then, their dynamic will never be the same as breakroom chats over biscuits, or groaning about the sheer number of fake halloween statements every year. so jon makes a Decision.

he races down the corridor to find martin. he tells him how much he needs him in his life, that he should've said it all earlier, and that it feels like martin might be leaving him.

and jonah magnus smiles through martin blackwood's slightly crooked teeth and soft, rosy cheeks, and reassures jon that he'll always be there.

[theswanqu22n]

Thinking you could live without me...

fluff? wtv, but you and colin broke off your relationship of almost a year.

It was nothing new when you and Colin argued over silly things, but the last few months were just exhausting...or maybe just for him, because for you? honestly no. If it were up to you, you would simply fight for the relationship, but it seems like Colin just wanted an excuse to break things off with you.

And the worst of all? You and he worked in the same place with separate offices but constant glances in all the rooms of the station.

And yes, you helped him get a better position than the one he was in, and he paid you back by giving in? By giving in? I mean, you didn't expect anything more than real love between the two of you, and you didn't force him either... but he seemed to feel nothing anymore and that had really made you sad. You cried at night when you heard the music that reminded you of him, or even saw the photos of the two of you that you still kept in your photo gallery.

Did he feel the same way? No idea, you just knew that when you turned to look at him he would just ignore you or avoid looking at you, creating a big lump in your throat and making you cry in secret from the women's bathroom at the station; thank goodness no one knew.

This time, everyone was called to a meeting because the December holidays were approaching and the expected thing was to finish everything and have that time free. The chief entered almost last with Colin following behind, you tried to avoid looking at him but the horrible thing was feeling his aroma enter your nostrils... your stomach simply twisted. And it was that, even though you wanted to avoid looking at him, he sat right in front of you, and his gaze could have looked somewhere else, but as if he knew how you felt... he looked at you.

His dark brown eyes directly scanned your face and then looked at the chief trying to pay attention but then looked back at you, and you couldn't take it, you just looked at him the same, he shook his head and looked at the chief...again ignoring you.

was it so hard for him to keep eye contact with you? all you wanted was to... go back in time to when he would tell you to sit next to him, and you would hold hands and look at each other whispering stupid things and not paying attention to the meetings.

but he looked so good without you, that you even doubted that he would ever be with you.

...

Everyone was leaving the meeting room and you were the last to leave. Colin was standing in the hallway using his phone, and instead of continuing on your way, you simply walked up to him, clearing your throat to get his attention. What did he do? He just looked up at you and then at his phone.

"avoiding me?" You asked, sighing a little and looking around until it was just the two of you there, Colin shook his head and frowned.

"No, I've just been busy, you know. Working," he said, still using his phone.

"can you...put down your phone?" You said trying to at least have a conversation without technology around, but he annoyed lowered his phone and put it in his pants pocket.

"Listen y/n, we don't have to talk 24/7, okay? We broke up two months ago. Get over it" he told you, and you knew something was wrong, why would he talk to you like that? you two never had a bad relationship.

"Colin- you avoid me... you avoid what we had for almost a year, I can't believe you're so cold" you said confused and got closer to him but he backed away.

"It's not being cold, y/n, it's being mature" he said and raised his eyebrows. "You're nice, and I honestly loved being with you...but, can't we, you know? We don't have time and I lost interest a while ago."

"Colin you're being completely immature right now, ignoring me, not even looking at me! Tell me... did I do something wrong or-" but before you said anything he interrupted you.

"No! Just leave me alone okay? She texted me again" he told you pausing at the end, and you felt your body cold.

oh wow, so his ex fiancée came back.

You just looked at him and took a step back, he sighed and leaned his head against the wall, then looked at you.

"I'm sorry. But... I don't know, she drives me crazy." he said looking at you hoping that wasn't hard for you, but shit it was, what did he expect?

You couldn't cry, no, not now, and besides, you didn't feel like it, maybe it was just the anger you felt now.

"I literally helped you get to where you are right now! Otherwise you'd be just some damn detective, you used me!?" You yelled at him but he frowned at you.

"no" he shook his head making you chuckle bitterly.

"yeah, right"

You nodded and looked away, then at the ground and your lips trembled.

He noticed how you felt and that made him feel bad in the end, but his reasons? Yes, they were different.

No, his ex didn't text him again, he just said that so you wouldn't ask any more questions. Did he miss you? Yes, Did he used you? Never.

The reason was that he was threatened during one of his investigations, and he not only distanced himself from you, but also from his family... he only wanted to protect them. Protect you. And the worst part? He had bought you an engagement ring and he couldn't give it to you until he solved the damn case... and if he didn't, he would see you with someone else.

but he couldn't let you know because you wouldn't give a shit and you would want to be with him, but you came first...before him.

"Leave my house keys in my office. I have to go."

That's what he told you, and you sniffed, looking away so as not to look at him, your eyes red, he couldn't see you like that, that's why he preferred to leave right now.

He raised his hand a little, wanting to touch you, but he promised himself something...something that would hurt you more than him: if he didn't touch you, it would hurt him less not to be able to be with you now.

He backed off and left you alone, with your emotions melting your heart, you hated him, you hated the lie he told you...and because of that, now you hated his ex more.

[kakusu-shipping]

How much icing do you all think is too much icing?

Another year, another attempt at baking a cake. Happy Birthday, Koro-Sensei!

[sabraeal]

24, 26!

24. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

Every moment of working on she fills the whole page, and crosses half was a surprise. The original idea was three chapters....which then became three whole fics of 3-5 chapters each, and so then I decided to write one of those fics in whole for the Do-Si-Do challenge...only to find that each of those chapters was going to be 8K+ and I could really only manage ONE of those. And while all this grief is happening, I'm still trying to make BIG DECISIONS, like whether this is going to be Actual Regency London, or Fantasy Regency Clarines; whether Shirayuki is going to be a countess or a gentlewoman; whether Zen is Marquess Laxdo or Viscount Wirant...it all came together in the 2nd draft, but it was a fight the whole way. Especially as I was trying to figure out the structure, since I wanted the epistolary aspect, but I couldn't decide whether Kihal's letters would be chapters on their own, or whether they should be in the chapters...it was a mess. Turned out fine, but things were getting changed around all the way to the editing stage.

26. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Finishing all my pieces for the challenges this year! It's the first time I've manage to finish Obiyukiweek since I was hospitalized (maybe even longer; I don't think I made 2019 either). So despite having lots of stops and starts with my medication, I still managed to make it over the finish line each time.

2023 in Review

[malachitezmeyka]

I know it's useless to get mad at the dog, she's just a hyperactive little thing who doesn't know how to behave yet. She's left home alone for at least 6 hours every day and she's bored, I can't blame her for tearing apart her training pads or shitting all over the place. Even if I did, she must have done it hours ago, dogs don't get that actions that happened so long ago have consequences and all me yelling at her will result in is her being scared of me. I know all that, I do

So WHY am I still so angry at her?? Why does it feel satisfying to lash out and see her scurry away??? She doesn't deserve to be treated like that, she doesn't know any better. And I don't know how to teach her to know better, I don't have the patience for it. She deserves better than me

[desert-gays]

mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom, you see its too much to ask for and i am not the doctor

read the tags for some character lore haha

[heavenbarnes]

I wanna make it (so badly)

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader

Warnings/Contains: reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns, swearing, inappropriate employer/employee relationship, dry-humping, a lot of heavy petting, implied age gap, effective-infidelity (reader tested, tashi approved), oral sex (f!receiving), art is a bit of a pervert and mega-pathetic (endearing), references to religion (worship).

Word Count: 5.8k

i white knuckled the steering wheel on the way home from this film thinking about art donaldson- this is, essentially, an ode to that

Youth tennis lessons, $20/h, call for details

Finding work was hard, keeping work was harder.

Cleaning, baby-sitting, pet-sitting, pet-walking. There was virtually nothing you hadn't tried.

Odd jobs, odd hours, and the occasional odd employer.

You'd played tennis for the last couple years of college. Nothing remotely competitive but you and your friends had looked cute in the skirts and they'd give you whole hours out of class to play.

You were above average with a good arm and better patience.

Another odd job to add to your growing list.

You'd been particular about where you'd posted the ads, the neighbourhoods you'd chosen. Only the ones with manicured lawns and white picket fences.

Tacking the paper to boards in upmarket cafes, fancy supermarkets, ladies-only gyms.

The kind of people that want their kids playing tennis and could find their way to increase your pay- if you did well.

You always did very well.

So your little car looked a little out of place in this neighbourhood, fingers holding the scribbled post-it note with the address. Your scrawling handwriting detailing the "Donaldson's" were enquiring within.

Pulling up outside the house, you had a quiet inkling that you might've been out of your depth. Whoever owned this house deserved more than an above-average-ex-college-student that only learnt the sport to spend time with friends.

But they'd requested you, you'd have to let them come to that conclusion on your own.

Your knuckles only hit the door once before it was being swung open by someone that looked destined to be a security guard, like he'd come out the womb with his future decided.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

He'd left you in the "formal lounge" to sit smack-bang in the centre of a couch that wouldn't even fit in the lobby of your apartment building- let alone the apartment itself.

As you admired a painting on the wall that you'd only ever seen in books, high heels on the stone floors made you jump in your seat.

The most beautiful woman you might ever see in your life appeared before you and said your name in a way that had you standing from your seat.

Your face faltered just enough that you hoped she didn't notice. There was something about her that told you she noticed everything.

Fuck me, that's Tashi Duncan.

If you know a thing about tennis (or even just watched the news) you know exactly who this woman is. You remember her more from your childhood but you remember her all the same.

The woman that once held the world by the balls.

She apologised for her husband's absence, that he was busy. It wasn't lost on you that the "husband" she casually referred to was Art Donaldson, US Open champion.

The Donaldson's.

Ah fuck.

Tashi went on the explain that they were wanting to begin lessons for their daughter Lily. You assumed this was the one you could hear running circles around the informal lounge.

"With all due respect, am I not the least qualified person in this home for that?"

You watched a perfectly formed cheekbone lift in what was nearly a smile. Strangely enough, something in the pit of your chest was dying to make her do that again.

There was something about her that demanded to be impressed.

You were no exception to the rule.

"My husband and I have seen some of your matches, we liked what we saw."

How? Your 'matches'- if you can even call them that, were nothing of note. You don't even think faculty bothered to watch them. You weren't quite sure why they'd even recorded them.

A silly part of you began to wonder how they'd even got a hold of them- until you remembered who they were.

The Hermes and Peitho of tennis.

"You did? I always thought of myself as more of a casual player."

"And that's what we liked, we know better than anyone how brutal tennis can become. We want someone to help Lily enjoy the game."

Oh, okay then.

You'd made a quasi-college-career out of purely enjoying the game. You were sure you could foster the same spirit for the six-year-old performing the entire 'Encanto' soundtrack in the other room.

Tashi laid down a tight schedule, Monday to Friday, 3pm to 6pm. You would teach Lily the wonders of the game on the court behind their home.

Their home you'd come to find out was a luxury rental when you'd complemented Tashi on another of the art pieces that'd apparently come with the place.

You'd also come to find out they typically live in hotel rooms, but they'd settled in this area for the time being as Art had a good thing going with a regular playing schedule and a sporting-goods deal.

You nodded along like you could begin to understand a life like that.

As she showed you back to your car (the one you suddenly felt humiliated for her to see you own), she called your name one last time from the doorway.

"You undersell yourself, we'll give you eighty an hour."

She left you choking on your tongue with one foot in the car and the other on an Italian cobblestone.

You were never going to walk or sit another dog again.

Lily was going to win her first Grand Slam by ten if that's what they'd pay you.

As your peeled your car from their turn-around area, you watched a Jeep Wrangler slow as it passed you. You couldn't see through the tint but you just knew it was him.

And you knew he was watching you.

-

The minute you'd told your roommate the situation you'd come into, she'd called bullshit.

A few texts from Tashi's now saved icon and a weird little photo you'd taken from inside the guest bathroom, it'd been enough to convince her.

"Fucking hell, are you God's favourite or something?"

You'd argue you were quite the opposite, she of all people should know. She'd seen some of the states you'd come home in after your other random jobs.

Felt good to be the winner.

Even just once.

In the air of some girlish fascination, she brought up a Youtube video of "Tashi Duncan Career Highlights" courtesy of "tennisguy779."

You'd protested it, rolling your eyes while feigning disinterest. No use, the minute you caught her out the corner of your eye- you were captivated.

It was entirely possible to imagine she hovered above the court, like there was a greater force placing her exactly where she needed to be, exactly when she needed.

It was even easier to believe she was just that good.

As you watched her play, listened to the sounds the game could draw from her- you wondered if this was how she and Art had felt.

Had they curled up in their informal lounge like you were right now? Had Tashi studied your every move meticulously like you assume? Had Art passed comment on your form? Did he think you were any good?

Tennisguy779's lineup changed quickly to "Art Donaldson Career Highlights" and you felt your chest constrict. An inexplicable feeling washed over you.

Like you'd been caught with God's forbidden fruit.

Your roommate had tried to question why you'd effectively flown off the couch, only to be met with a muttered 'goodnight' as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

Thin walls meant you drifted off to sleep that night with the rhythmic sounds of Art, grunting his way through an ATP Challenger.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

-

The Donaldson's tennis court was down a steep set of stairs, set back into an oasis of lush greenery.

Perfect for a 6-year-old's first lessons.

You didn't know if it was the grand balcony that overlooked the court or the fact a well-manicured Tashi stood atop it, but you felt positively observed.

Lily was in the midst of showing you how she could do a cartwheel (she couldn't) when the voice in the back of your head started echoing a promise of $80/h.

"Alright, lets channel some of that into your elbow."

Give a six-year-old a racquet half the size of her and she's going to blow effective chunks, but at least she has the spirit. Maybe it's her energy, maybe it has been a while since you've been on the court-

The kid's running you ragged.

Coupled with her height, you're spending more time bent over than you are up straight and it's all going to your head. All you can hope is Tashi isn't up there watching you stumble after the ball.

But you're sure there are eyes on your back.

Lily is a quick learner and you work out a tradeoff of one tennis skill for one spinning heel kick (mandatory that you watch).

Roll on 6pm and she's dog-tired, however, she's managed to hit the ball at least twice. Surely that's earned your keep. She lays star-fished on the turf and murmurs something about a piggyback.

You know you're about to earn your keep.

By the top of the staircase, you're more than happy to hand over a Lily-shaped-sack-of-potatoes to Tashi's mother. As you emerge from behind an ornate gargoyle, your suspicions proved correct.

Art Donaldson had been watching your every move.

Left alone on the balcony with him, you're acutely aware of the fact he's standing between you and your exit, and he's just had a full show of you bent over and flitting about his tennis court.

That and you still haven't said so much as 'hello' to the man.

You dwell on it for a moment and then there's that feeling back in the pit of your stomach, like any minute you'll be caught with fruit in hand- in throat.

The Original Sin.

Luckily, Art made the decision for you, crossing the space to shake your hand. If he noticed the way your hand trembled, he didn't seem to mind.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

You wished you had more to say to him, or maybe something more intelligent. Something better than a quiet "and you."

He was the better conversationalist, thankfully. Head motioning to the court, he looked down his nose at you when he spoke.

It should've felt condescending. It didn't.

"How did she go out there?"

"Yeah, really good- not a Disney character I can't name now."

He laughed.

Really laughed, like the joke was better than it was.

Like there was a preening little flutter inside you that said "do it again!"

You shrugged your shoulders like making him happy came naturally as you squinted up at him, as if he was the sun.

"You were watching? You must've seen her picking it up?"

Because he was the expert. Because he is the champion.

He hummed as he nodded, eyes skywards like there might've been something more important behind the clouds.

"Must've been distracted."

Within an instant- his eyes flickered to your own and you were sure he watched them change. He must've seen something he liked, the corner of his lip quirked up before he spoke again.

"Come on, I'll sort your payment and then we'll let you get home."

And for whatever reason, his hand fit perfectly in the small of your back as he lead you inside.

-

And how quickly did you become a strange piece of furniture in the Donaldson's home- in their life?

An ottoman for Tashi to rest her tired feet on.

An abstract piece on the wall for Art to admire when he passes it.

A projection of constellations across the ceiling to keep Lily bright behind the eyes.

At least you belonged- there was no doubt that this was where you belonged.

That wasn't to say your tennis skill had improved any, lesson after lesson you still couldn't wrap your head around why they'd even signed you on, let alone kept you.

"Ok, don't watch that one either- maybe just do what I say and not what I do."

You hadn't nailed a single one, at this point you couldn't blame Lily for skipping around pretending her racquet was a horse.

Wasn't like she'd be learning anything if she was paying attention.

"Ok, here we go just- ok right, when your parents ask how today went, please be kind."

"Your elbow is too low."

It was a miracle you didn't scream.

Art entered the court with a swagger that you could only assume struck fear when he was your opponent.

Right now it struck pure embarrassment and Lily wasn't helping.

"Daddy, she didn't hit a single one!"

"Alright, I don't think daddy needs to know that-"

"Daddy knows, daddy's been watching."

Daddy really needs to stop calling himself that.

Lily and her racquet took off for another tour of The Grand National as Art approached you with quiet determination.

It was like waiting for impact, his eyes never wavered off his daughter as he made towards you. At the last moment, he snapped his attention in your direction- with a smile that should've felt condescending.

It wasn't.

"If your elbow is too low you lose topspin and power."

If you deserved the $80/h you were earning, you might've known that.

As Art stepped up to you, the turn of the planets on their axis slowed down and it could've been entirely possible to believe it was only you two.

And Lily upon her trusty steed.

The gallops of her tennis shoes thinned out as Art placed one hand around your elbow, lifting it higher. His other hand held your waist as he pulled your back flush to his chest.

"Lily, go find grandma."

Then it really was just you two.

Your heart hammered against the shell of your ribcage, blood rushing around your ears as you felt Art's chin perch at your shoulder.

"If your elbow is high enough," His hand lifted it up and you let it stay there. "And your hip is turned."

He didn't have to say it with the gravel in his voice, but he did. He didn't have to hold your hips as he moved them, but he did. He didn't have to stay without so much of an inch between the two of you, but he did.

With one hand in the curve of your waist, he tossed the ball into the air with the other- then he whistled.

Like the obedient thing you didn't know you were, you raised the racquet and sent the ball flying through the air without even blinking.

As the streak of green hit the court and rolled away, you found yourself lying in wait, as if you were waiting for something- your next command?

"Good girl."

There it was.

Under the all consuming effect that Art Donaldson just seemed to have on people, you'd entirely forgotten you were in a position you could be 'caught' in. By his all consuming wife, of all people.

So, you should've moved.

Quite honestly you should've straightened up and cleared your throat and thanked him and told him it was time for you to go home.

You should've moved.

But Art wasn't moving. If anything he was staying purposefully still at your backside.

Obedient thing you seem to be.

"Show me that again?"

So,

You teach Lily the bare basics of tennis for three hours and receive $80 on the hour.

Then Art spends three hours of his spare time teaching you to perfect your swing- in a way that couldn't ever vaguely resemble professional.

A simple transactional arrangement.

Your tennis improves on a slow but sure basis and he gets the most off-court action he's seen since college.

Even if it is just heavy petting on astro-turf.

A hand under the hem of a tennis skirt. A pressing hip against your own. A deep breath as your hair brushes past him.

You figure Art will take what he can get.

And it's never enough to raise alarm. Sure, there's that fluttering in your chest that warns you might get 'caught' but you're never quite sure what one might 'catch' if they found you out.

It's undoubted who that 'one' is though.

The one who holds the cards- holds the throat, maybe.

Tashi, who's presence precedes her perhaps more than her reputation. Even when she isn't there, she's there.

So, when Art's hand lingers too long on the outside of your thigh and you think you can feel it verging into the territory that'll change everything- it's Tashi on your mind.

You're beginning to think your conscience sounds a lot like Tashi.

-

Who are you if not obedient to the Donaldson's?

Chasing Lily around a court.

Adhering to Tashi's every request.

Being Art's fantasy.

Being Art's.

Most of the time, anyway. Three hours a week.

Something to keep him bright behind the eyes, maybe. Something to keep him happy. Something to keep him-

Winning?

He tells you he plays better with you around. The way he says it makes you giggle, a girlish little noise that sort of just slips out. He serves the ball with his eyes on you and, sure enough, it lands smack where he wanted it too.

Everything where he wants it. When he wants it.

Shy and inconsequential touches and glances shared just between you.

Until, well- until they weren't.

"Would you like a coffee?"

Tashi's mother had taken Lily off to bed, leaving you and Art separated by an island. Kitchen island.

He braced both palms against it as he watched you watch the door, wondering if you should cut and run, wondering if someone else might come through it.

Talking yourself out of it. Whatever it might be.

"Yes please."

Even he looked surprised, brows raising an inch as he turned to the Nespresso machine. You took the moment to watch his back, the muscles moving under the cool-dry fabric of his shirt.

You spent all your time pretending not to notice him that actually allowing yourself the chance to study him made you lightheaded.

Had he always looked this captivating?

He broke your focus with a coffee cup, sliding it towards you as he rounded the bench. His eyes didn't even waver off you as he took a sip of his own.

It wasn't lost on you that he managed to tongue foam off the tip of his nose.

This was the longest you'd stuck around after a tennis lesson, longest you'd allowed yourself to be in his presence. You weren't quite sure how big this thing could get.

Your mouth was opening before your brain had decided it was a good idea.

"Mr. Donaldson-"

"Art."

"Uh, Art- I really appreciate the help you've been giving me- uh, you know- with tennis."

He placed his coffee mug down, nodding as he did it. "My pleasure."

Naturally.

That brain of yours was still firing off at a mile a minute. There was a very tiny voice right at the back that said it was up to you how this night would end- you had a choice to make.

Placing your coffee mug beside his, you scanned his face to find him already looking at you. Perhaps the choice was already set.

Maybe it was fate.

All he said was your name, it could've been the way he said it- but your whole body was losing the rigidity it'd formed when he first asked you to stay longer. When he'd made the choice.

Crossing the small gap between you two, Art was careful to keep one hand on the kitchen bench as the other hovered beside you. Not touching you,

Yet.

One step closer and the tip of Art's nose was touching yours. You think you might've been able to smell the coffee off his breath.

It thinned out- leaving you with his sweat. Musk. Art.

A sudden surge of morals overcame you, your voice broke out as a gasp.

"What about Mrs. Donaldson?"

"Actually, it's still Duncan."

You screamed.

Right in his face.

Tashi's voice made you jump out of your skin.

However, Art didn't move. As you turned your head to gauge the way his wife stalked across the kitchen, you felt his nose brush against your cheek.

Tashi retrieved a tall bottle of Pellegrino from the fridge, taking a poignant sip as her eyes flitted between the two of you.

What a fucking sight.

Her husband, eyes shut and face pressed pathetically to their daughter's tennis instructor- his hands itching to close around your waist.

You, young and bleary eyed looking utterly caught. Staring up at her like she might decide your fate.

It took all your strength to find your words.

"I’m not here to teach tennis, am I?”

“No, of course not. You’re frankly terrible at tennis.”

There's the Tashi you were expecting.

Her words should've stung, but they didn't. They couldn't, not when her husband was laying his hands against your back and rubbing soothing circles down the length of your spine.

Not when his lips were mouthing wet kisses along your cheek.

Not when she was right. Spade's a spade.

"Why am I here?"

She snorted, a real dissatisfactory sound- like she hoped you were smarter than that. She was halfway to her bedroom before she cut you loose.

"Careful, he makes that sound before he cums."

-

And he had, just like she'd said.

Art had cum in his shorts, pressed up against your thigh with his face still smushed against your own.

And you'd taken it, obedience in spades.

You'd stood there and let him hump your leg like a bad dog and you'd even pat his head and whispered kind words in his ear after the mess he'd made.

Then you slipped out the front door to your car and you'd pretended not to notice that there were two bedroom lights on upstairs.

You hadn't even divulged the freaky details to your roommate when you got home.

But the showerhead knew all about them.

Visions of Art on the clouds of steam- replayed in your head the sounds he'd made right in your ear.

How he'd whimpered your name when he splashed his boxers like a fucking teenager.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

You even showed up next day, valiantly. You didn't run for the hills or even straight to a tabloid about how weird the Donaldson's really were.

And maybe that's why you hadn't told your roommate either.

Because telling someone what Tashi allowed? What Art liked?

That'd mean you'd have to admit your dirty little secret.

You loved it.

When you showed up, something was different. No usual chatter in the house, no shoes by the front door. You checked out the front window to see what you'd missed when you arrived.

Tashi's car was gone.

"She's taken her mom and Lily to the ballet."

At least you didn't scream this time.

You were lucky your back was to him, lest he see the self-righteous little smile that broke when the words settled.

"Oh, ok."

"I'll see you on the court."

Oh, ok.

Lest he see the disappointment that took over.

Following him close behind, you didn't know why you were effectively surprised that he still wanted to continue with your lessons. You'd half expected- hoped, he'd bend you over the kitchen island.

Tennis was fun too, you guess.

Thinking about it, something that bold didn't seem the style of the man who'd nearly blacked out rubbing up on you. Beckoning you onto the tennis court with two fingers and a wry smile did, however.

You fell into your usual position, hip turned and elbow curved on your side of the court. You waited for him to appear behind you, chest melding into the curve of your back.

It never came.

Art took long strides towards the net, vaulting it in one smooth motion. He ended up parallel to you, waiting with a ball and racquet in either hand.

The smile had left his face, a rather blank expression taking over as he sized you up. And there was that fear- knowing what it felt like to be on the wrong side of him.

This was going to hurt.

From the moment he pressed the ball to the neck of his racquet, it was all over. Your feet were never in one place for more than a second, your arms burned above you, your head permanently on a swivel.

Art didn't look like he'd broken more than a sweat.

You knew he had, you could see it in the neck of his shirt. But he didn't look it.

He looked calm, he looked in control, he looked-

Like he was enjoying himself.

For every rally that you managed, you thought you saw an inkling of pride set in his features.

For every serve that you missed, you knew you saw unbridled lust.

Not a point scored in your favour, you hit the ball towards him one last time before you collapsed to the turf. Flat on your back, reminiscent of your first lesson here.

You watched the clouds shift over your head, listening to your pulse thick and fast in your ears. Just underneath it, you could hear footfalls approaching.

No hurry, but impending.

Soon, the sun above you was eclipsed by Art Donaldson. His golden hair shone with the halo of light behind it.

Now this was God's favourite.

"You can't be giving up this easily?"

Forcing a laugh, you threw your arm up and over your eyes. "Wanna bet?"

Turns out he did- turns out Art struggled to do anything but win.

Somehow, you found it within yourself to stand back up. This time it was only a practice, you weren't brave enough to face off against him another round.

This was more your speed.

The hand that wasn't holding your elbow was curving around your front, the pleats of your tennis skirt lifting over his fingers. You felt a warm hand slowly moving across the front of your underwear.

Two fingers migrated south, pressing against the seam of you- he must've felt the pure heat radiating beneath his fingertips.

Turning your head even an inch, you found the curve of his nose pressing into your cheek.

"I didn't give up."

He hummed, the vibration rolled across your shoulders.

"Mmm, you didn't."

The hand sans-racquet dropped between your thighs to press his palm into your cunt. It was Art who flexed your fingers and cupped it.

"Where's my prize?"

There was no trophy, no podium, no medal.

But there was Art between your legs, slinging a knee over each shoulder like he might've been the real winner.

You'd never been inside the 'changing shed' behind the court, of course it was nicer than your actual home.

Your head made contact with the hard wood behind you, bench digging into your ass as you felt a hot mouth moving against the seat of your underwear.

Running your fingers through his hair, your gripped the ends of it- tugging him closer until you felt the flat of his tongue through the thin fabric.

Needy fingers tugged the ruined garment down your thighs, tucking him into the pocket of his shorts. You knew all too well that you'd never see them again.

You were sure Art would be seeing a lot of them.

His tongue ran up the split, one long stroke before you felt the curve of his nose press to your clit. The ridge of it moved as his tongue retreated back to your entrance.

With everything he had.

Your eyes had been rolling back in your head as you arched your back, the moment you were able to find a semblance of control- your gaze fell before you.

Naturally, Art was already looking up at you. Two hands splayed across each side of your hips as he pulled back to wrap his lips around your clit.

You couldn't help the hazy little smile on your face as you watched his eyes.

Utterly devotional.

The more you tugged on his hair, the hungrier he seemed. Pulling from the root seemed to spur him on, seemed to tell him 'good job' and he was responsive.

His tongue flicked beneath your clit, pressing it to his upper lip as he brought two fingers to your entrance. He stroked a couple times, making your hips twitch against him, before he sunk in to the last knuckle.

Turns out Art had a style about him. One he brought to the tennis court and, seemingly, to the floor of his changing shed.

The style was calculated.

Every move he made was engineered to get something out of you- a reaction, a whimper, a twitch. He was doing what he did best.

Playing a game.

Art struggled to do anything but win.

"Fuck- Mr. Donaldson."

"Art."

Even muffled against your cunt, you were good at following his orders. Even more so when he was the decider of your imminent orgasm.

You threaded your fingers in the sides of his hair, pulling his face flush against you so you could ride his mouth. Taking every last thing from him you could.

It drew the most pathetic moan you'd ever heard, straight out of his chest and hit you straight at your core. The burning coil tight within your stomach was unraveling quickly.

You heard the murmurings of words, among the blood rushing in your ears. Easing up just enough, you let him pull back to speak.

"Tell me this feels good, please."

Your chest thumped, the sight of Art helpless between your legs was one thing. Hearing him beg?

You might black out.

"Art- you feel so fucking good," Dragging him right back where you needed him, the tip of his tongue drove against your clit. "You're gonna' make me cum."

He whined.

A heady drawn-out sound that quite literally sent you over the edge. Your hips lifted off the bench, the heel of your foot digging into his back and making his whine turn into a whimper.

Your orgasm broke you apart until it felt like white-hot flame licking up your sides. Of course, Art never relented, drinking in everything you could give him- literally.

The moment you felt the peak begin to subside, the urge was ramping right back up. Like he knew what he was doing, his eyes locked back onto yours as he sucked at your clit.

He was going for gold.

A quick second orgasm hit, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thighs clenched around Art's head, his hands coming to each of them.

You relaxed yourself a bit, feeling like it might be too much- until you felt him pressing your thighs even harder to either of his ears.

Oh, ok.

Art Donaldson knew what he liked.

You physically had to push him off you, watching him fall back on his outstretched palms as you let yourself breathe for what felt like the first time.

Wet eyes, wet chin, chest rising and falling like he'd run a marathon- Art sat sprawled out before you like he'd stumbled upon an alter (he had).

Breathless, you gestured towards him. Your hand dropped a little as your eyes fell between his legs, wordlessly offering a deal.

A deuce.

His cheeks flushed, more so than they already were. His eyes fell an infinitesimal amount before he spoke up.

"Uh- I already have."

Of course he had. He makes that sound before he cums.

Instead, you heard him shuffle back onto his knees as he all but crawled towards you. He draped his upper half into your lap, head resting against the soft cotton of your skirt.

Coming off the other side of a high, the reality of your situation began to settle for you. Why they'd really called you here- what purpose you really served.

All you could do was gently stroke a hand across Art's head, feeling him go limp against you. Boneless, but not spineless.

He must've known you were going to speak, he must've heard the intake of breath or just felt you shift. He cut you to the chase- beat you to the punchline.

Art nuzzled his face further into your lap as you felt him mumble against your thigh.

"I can't lose- you."

[trashycosmos]

can we talk about the funniest thing of the whole experience was someome who sb me for almost 10 months straight saying they were upset i wasn't nice/distant/cold and didn't apologize for it and when i called out their behavior there was no apology from them they just didn't want to talk anymore lol

[snapscube]

how are you holding up?

the vibes have been pretty dismal today! but i mean what would you expect given the outcome haha.

i’m hanging in there though. i’ve had my anxiety spells. the heart racing. the moments where i just let myself cry a bit. but i’ve been doing everything i can to not turn it into a wallow. it’s tough, i’m definitely doing worse than i would be had things gone right, but i managed to get up and do at least some semblance of my job and provide a nice bit of respite for people also going through it. i consider that a win.

so the plan is to take it one day at a time. i did good today. gonna try to do good tomorrow. rinse. repeat. simple as. 4 years can be a long time for things to be getting worse, that much is true. but even when they were getting worse the last time, a lot of stuff also got better if i looked in the right places. and thankfully the world is really big, so there’s always another place to look.