#Table Rock Dam

[lensandpenpress]

THE JAMES: TRANSFORMATION OF AN OZARK RIVER

Printed postcard, 1907. The genesis of the square-ended (and, as above, sometimes pointed), flat bottomed boats specifically for commercial floating on the James and White rivers is poorly documented. Many theories have been advanced as to how they were developed and how they came to be called “johnboats.” We chose to profile the James River in a 352-page all color book because its watershed…

[ambreignsfan4life]

Most Beloved WWE Male

[vixensp1ce]

them as japanese p rn tropes

fem!reader / pt. 2 (jing yuan and aventurine)

childe

he's the sleazy coworker, the one who ogles your boobs whenever you bend over and thinks pencil skirts are a gift to humanity (his dick).

of course, accepting his invitation to hang out and drink at his place is a sure sign that you're not as innocent as you look.

and when he has you on the carpet, legs folded up to your chest, looking so sweet and breedable just for him, he realises you're not wearing underwear. just stockings. and a gasket blows in his mind.

there's an adult movie playing on the tv, but he's muted it. he wants to hear your voice and your voice only, after all.

he fucks you slowly at first, relishing the way your boobs ripple with the movement in your tight office blouse. you might be wearing a smaller one today, because the buttons are straining and he can see a peek of your lacey bra underneath.

your walls squeeze and flutter around him, betraying your need, but childe ignores it for now.

"so pretty, so, so pretty, all for me..." he mutters, still rocking his hips, grinding gently into you. the buttons come open with ease, revealing a scrap of red lace, transparent so he can see your hardened nipples.

he pauses. you seem to know what's coming next and squeeze around his dick in anticipation.

"you little slut," he growls in delight, slamming into your g-spot with such accuracy that you cry his name.

he sets a frightening pace, his dick scraping against every inch of your ribbed walls you've never been able to reach on your own, and you wonder, did he just get bigger?

"gonna cum inside, fill you up, inside inside inside," he chants, lost in his pleasure and tugging down your bra. your boobs spring free, now rippling freely like a wave. he ducks his head, suckling on one nipple, a hand coming up to tease the other one.

"ajax! oh, please, please, i'm so close," you moan, the pressure in your lower tummy building.

"with me," he mumbles, switching to your other nipple. "cum with me, baby, together..."

your rapidly contracting walls betray how close you are, and his dick twitches and twitches inside of you. childe grabs your leg, slinging it over his shoulder so his dick reaches even deeper into you, and the new position is just what you need for the dam to break.

you scream his name. you clamp down on him, hard, your back arching taut, pushing your breast further into his mouth. he cums at the same time, ropes of thick, hot cum filling you up in a place you hadn't even known was empty.

he's still pistoning into you at a violent pace, fucking you both through your first orgasm of the night.

blade

funny guy has funny tastes. if you'd known that one of his favourite things to do was to have you tied up and restrained, you would have... well, nothing, seeing as you enjoyed it just as much as he.

you were under the dining table, draped over the support crossbars and trying to clear out a particularly stubborn cobweb. blade eyes you hungrily, feeling his cock just begin to strain at his pants. he can see the outline of your panties through your clothes, the lucious curve of your ass tempting him to do something only in his fantasies.

then you pull back and stop.

"um, blade? a little help?"

his patience snaps. striding up to you, he lands a glancing blow on your behind. you yelp, your back arching. "hey, what was that for?"

he doesn't care. blade gives himself a moment to fix the image of your ass in his mind, then pulls down your clothes and underwear in one smooth movement.

"you little bitch," he snarls. a string of your arousal stretches from your pussy to your underwear. "fucking slut."

he slides his dick back and forth in your inner lips, coating it in slick and the tip rubbing aginst your clit. you moan, your back arching, grinding against him to try and get more friction.

blade reaches under the table and tugs you free, hoisting you up into his arms and carrying you to the couch.

another slap. you whimper, trying to turn back to get a look at him, but he grabs your head and forces it down.

"a slut like you shouldn't even be looking at me," he growls.

he spreads your asscheeks with his thumbs. the movement has your pussy weeping a few drops of cum onto his slick, wet dick.

"slut," he mutters again, half to himself, and slams himself into you.

you gasp, back arching, the fabric of the couch crinkling under your grip. "bla~ade," you moan angelically.

"shut up," he commands, pulling you roughly into him again. your shut up obediently. the flesh of your ass ripples up your body, and he can just see your boobs swaying to his rhythm.

he leans over you to whisper into your ear. "does my naughty little slut wanna cum?" he whispers, his gravelly voice sending sparks into your lower tummy.

you can feel his dick, thick and rock-hard, weighing down inside of you, and you can almost imagine the outline of it showing through your tummy. you nod.

he pistons his hips into yours, humping like an animal in heat, aiming right for the most sensitive gummy spot within you. you whimper and moan, your back arching in pleasure, and then you feel his hand clasp your boob to stimulate your nipple roughly.

"no-!" you squirm against his hold, but blade has you completely pinned. his other hand snakes down to where the two of you are connected, flesh smacking together and ringing through the room.

"if you want to cum, then cum." you can hear the smile in his voice as his hand finds your sensitive little nub and rubs it fiercely.

the pressure in your lower tummy spikes, and you claw at the couch as you cum, looking for something to hold onto. "bladebladeblade, ah, harder, please~"

[cregansdingdong]

ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴍᴇ.

something tiny and Jace-y<3

NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

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Bodies covered in a sheen layer of sweat, pillows thrown across his chambers landing Gods know where. Other than the quiet slaps of skin against skin—hurried and slicked with the release they’d reached twice now—there were only their pants and murmurs echoing in the spacious room. No amount of time was ever going to be enough with her. Jace had his arms around her, rocking his pretty girl up and down on his sensitive cock—all of him was sensitive, really. His skin tingled under her gentle touch, chest flushed red with kisses and teeth marks littering across his shoulders. Her nails dug small, crescent-like shapes into his back in the meantime, face hidden in his neck.

“I’m gonna come again..” She whispers, voice stricken with want. That only urged him to hold tighter, keeping the steady pace as she took him to the hilt and back again, over and over like waves lapping at the shore.

“Give me all you can.” He hums, brows furrowed in concentration as he nudges his nose into her hair, taking a deep inhale of her scent. Floral and yet something spicy. It was addicting—he could have his face there all day if she let him. She grips him harder, shuddering at the fanning of his breath by her ear. Her stomach was tense, clenching, as the dam was about to break for the third time. They’d been at it most of the morning, too lost in their desire to sit through breakfast. Their presence had probably been missed at the table, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything else than the feeling of her hot, velvety walls squeezing around his cock.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[elryuse]

i came here from wattpad 🙌🙌 i love your writings, idk if you're still accepting request but if you are , i would like to request a drunk winter x male reader fluff, just a short one will do. just a spark from watching a lot of drunk scenes from kdramas, like the one in my demon lol. im sorry if this is a burden but cant wait to hear from you soon!

Drunk Call

Winter X Make Reader

Fluffy fluff fluff

Exhaustion gnawed at my bones, a familiar ache that had become a constant companion these past few weeks. Practice sessions for our upcoming comeback were brutal, the pressure to deliver another hit song gnawing at my confidence. To top it all off, a nasty rumor about me had surfaced online, and the hateful comments felt like a punch to the gut.

Curled up on the dorm couch, I scrolled through the endless stream of negativity, tears blurring my vision. Frustration bubbled over, a silent scream trapped in my throat. "This is stupid," I mumbled, shoving my phone onto the coffee table.

Loneliness, a suffocating weight, settled in my chest. I craved a familiar voice, someone who wouldn't judge, someone who knew the real Winter, not the one fabricated for the cameras. With a sigh, I reached for my phone, my finger hovering over your name. You were more than just my manager; you were my rock, my confidante, the one person who saw through the facade.

Hitting call, I waited with bated breath, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The first ring felt like an eternity, the second a cruel joke. Just as I was about to give up, your voice, warm and soothing, filled the silence.

"Hey Winter, everything alright?" Your voice, laced with concern, sent a wave of relief washing over me. "Y/n," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. The dam broke then, the frustration, the loneliness, spilling out in a torrent of words. I ranted about the comeback, the rumors, the relentless pressure, the tears blurring my vision all the while.

You listened patiently, your voice a calming balm on my raging emotions. You didn't offer empty platitudes or dismiss my feelings. Instead, you encouraged me to vent, to let it all out. By the time I finished, my voice hoarse and tears drying on my cheeks, a comfortable silence settled between us.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," you said finally, your voice firm but laced with tenderness. The promise sent a warmth blooming in my chest. Just knowing you were on your way chased away the suffocating loneliness.

Twenty minutes later, the soft knock on the door had me scrambling to my feet. Wiping away any lingering tears, I opened the door to find you standing there, a concerned frown creasing your forehead. The sight of you, your worried gaze softening at the sight of me, was a balm to my soul.

"Hey," you said gently, your hand reaching out to cup my cheek. The touch, warm and familiar, grounded me. Without a word, I stepped aside, ushering you into the dorm room.

The state of the room must have been a giveaway. The empty soju bottles on the coffee table, the discarded tissues, and the general air of disarray spoke volumes. You cast a quick glance at the empty bottles, a knowing look in your eyes. "Rough night, huh?" you asked softly.

I nodded, unable to meet your gaze. Shame washed over me, a childish need to apologize for my weakness. But before I could voice my insecurities, you pulled me into a hug. Your embrace was a safe haven, the familiar scent of your cologne a soothing comfort.

"It's okay to not be okay, Winter," you murmured against my hair. "You don't have to be strong all the time." Those words, simple yet profound, shattered the dam of my remaining defenses. Tears welled up again, hot and silent, as I clung to you.

You held me close, whispering words of comfort until my sobs subsided into sniffles. When I finally pulled away, you brushed a stray tear from my cheek, your thumb gently wiping away the moisture. "How about we forget about practice tomorrow?" You suggested, yoir voice laced with concern.

My eyes widened in surprise. "But the comeback…" I began to protest, but you cut me off with a gentle smile. "The comeback can wait," you said firmly. "Right now, you need rest."

There was no arguing with the determined glint in your eyes. With a sigh of surrender, I nodded. You helped me change into my pajamas, the simple act of putting on comfy clothes a small comfort in itself.

Tucking me into bed, you fluffed the pillows and adjusted the covers with a meticulousness that made me smile. "Get some sleep, Winter," you whispered, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on my forehead. "I'll be here in the morning."

As I drifted off to sleep, the weight on my chest had lifted considerably. The knowledge that I wasn't alone, that you were there to catch me when I fell, filled me with a warmth that chased away the lingering shadows of The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting the room in soft stripes of gold. A gentle ache in my head and a dry throat were the only reminders of the previous night's emotional rollercoaster. Yawning, I stretched luxuriously in bed, a small smile playing on my lips.

The faint smell of coffee and something warm and savory drifted towards me. Sitting up, I found a tray on the bedside table laden with a bowl of steaming porridge, a glass of water, and a small cup of coffee with a cartoon bear latte art. My heart warmed.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you said from the doorway, a playful smile on your face. You looked a little sleep-deprived yourself, dark circles under your eyes, but a tenderness lingered in your gaze.

"You didn't have to stay the night," I said, touched by your gesture.

"Well, how could I leave you here alone after last night?" you countered, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, who else would make sure the most important member of AESPA gets a decent breakfast?

I blushed, unable to deny the truth in your words. You carefully helped me sit up, placing pillows behind my back as I took a sip of the warm porridge. The coffee, creamy and sweet, hit the spot just right.

"Feeling better?" you asked, pulling up a chair beside the bed.

"A lot better, thanks to you," I mumbled, stealing a glance at you. The concern in your eyes morphed into something softer, making my cheeks flush again.

"Don't worry about practice today," you reassured me. "We already informed the others you're taking a break." Relief washed over me. The thought of facing the dance studio right now was daunting.

"So, what do you want to do today?" you asked, your voice gentle. I thought for a moment. The idea of staying cooped up in the dorm room wasn't appealing.

"Maybe we could take a walk in the park?" I suggested. "Just the two of us, away from everything".

Your smile widened, genuine and bright. "Sounds like a perfect plan, Winter."

The park was a welcome change of scenery. The crisp autumn air invigorated my senses, and the vibrant foliage painted the landscape in hues of gold and crimson. Walking hand-in-hand with you, the tension from the past few weeks seemed to melt away.

We talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and dreams, laughing at silly jokes. You even indulged my sudden craving for street tteokbokki, the spicy rice cakes adding a delicious warmth to the cool air.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows on the park's path, we found ourselves sitting on a bench overlooking a small lake. The tranquility of the scene mirrored the newfound peace within me.

"Thank you, Y/n," I said, leaning against your shoulder.

"For what?" you asked, your voice soft.

"For everything," I replied, my voice thick with emotion. "For being there when I needed you most, for believing in me, for being my rock."

You turned to face me, your gaze filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Winter," you murmured, your voice husky, "you are strong, talented, and beautiful. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise."

And then, before I could respond, you leaned in, your lips meeting mine in a kiss that was both soft and passionate. It was a kiss filled with the unspoken words of our affection, a promise of a love that transcended the boundaries of fan and manager, idol and boyfriend.

As we pulled apart, breathless and smiling, I knew that no matter what challenges awaited me, I wouldn't face them alone. I had you by my side, my confidant, my best friend, and most importantly, my love.

The End

[samix-asb]

adult supervision? not around here partner

DAY 3 I really enjoy the silly goofy moments dam mora drew of Billy playing in the cave n being a kid, wanted to draw some of it as Billy because I love not thinking about the implications™. You can think of this Billy as the one from those homeless fanfics (spot the little details) because I really enjoy the concept of a 10 year old getting to act like a kid again, even if it's reckless and on a super ancient magic rock :]

tried more of a comic style for this one if you can tell, my tabled hated me a little because the brush wasn't brushing as it should, also if you wonder why I posted day 3 on day 5... flu season in my city left me bedridden all of yesterday, hopefully tomorrow I finish the sketches, if nlot I'll draw something simpler and post the wips below ig

omake:

[beastofburdenxo]

I got you

Thanks to @smezzzz, here is a continuation of "Look After You" Tommy has another seizure, this time at The Garrison in front of his brothers. As always, you are there. Just some fluff, mention of blood, typical Tommy language.

"Easy there, it's alright now, I've got you." Tommy woke up, excruciating pain ebbing through his head. Another episode happened, this time outside of the comfort of his home, where it could stay hidden.

No, this time, it was at The Garrison, in front of his family, who were very much unaware. Tommy cracked his head on the floor, causing blood to pool around him. John and Arthur picked him up out of his own blood and set him on one of the tables. Unsure of what to do, they called you in a panic.

Of course, you came immediately, knowing tommy would be very upset. Especially now that the cat is out of the bag. "Ssshhhh, it's alright. It's just a little blood this time. Just a small boo boo." You comfort tommy in his dazed state. His eyes are going in and out of focus, occasionally focusing on you. "Why wasn't we told about the seizures?" Arthur asks, clearly bothered by this whole thing.

"Tommy wanted no one to know. He has hid it well these past few months. You know how he is, very stubborn. Wanted no one thinking he couldn't lead. Thought he was less of a man." John shook his head, raising his glass as if to chuck it at Tommy's incompasitated head. "We would have never thought that, you ignorant fuck!"

Just then, a weak sound leaves Tommy's mouth, silencing the room. "Ssshhh, it's okay. We're all here for you, tommy." Arthur walks closer. "Yeah, Tom, we're not going anywhere. You should have told us before shit hit the fan, eh? You asshole." Tommy's eyes are only for you, ignoring the rest as silent tears streak his face. Your name weakly leaves his mouth as he realizes what had happened.

You send the boys away before the storm in Tommy's eyes approaches. His arms reach out for you before the dam finally breaks. You gather him in your arms as broken sobs leave him. "My brave boy. It's okay, sweetheart. Nobody is mad at you. They are just worried in their own way, you know. Sssshhh, tommy, relax." You kiss his forehead as you inspect his latest injury, "Well you've stopped bleeding. And on the upside," you lean to whisper this next part in his ear, "you didn't wet yourself this time. That secret stays with us, yeah?"

You gently rock him like you would an upset baby. Because he is your upset baby. You knew he didn't want this part to be shown. They've already seen the worst. This part is just for the two of you. You are his safe place. "Alright, let's get you home, yeah? You've had one hell of a day." You kiss the remaining tears away and you call the boys back to help tommy off the table.

Of course, they noticed his puffy eyes and the occasional sniffle, but not a word was said about it. Tommy didn't even try and fight their help like he normally would. "Go home brother, try again tomorrow, yeah?" John says with a pat on the back. "We can handle one day, Tom, we'll be alright." Arthur concluded as they helped tommy into the car.

On the way home, Tommy lays his head in your lap. You stroke his face as you drive. "That was so scary. How do you handle it so well?" Tommy murmured. "Well, sweetheart, this isn't my first rodeo. Poor Arthur was white as a sheet." You chuckled. "I don't want to be away from you for a second. I get scared when you're not around."

"Baby, it's okay. There's no need to be scared. Now that everyone knows, they can look after you when I can't. Now, do you see why I wanted you to tell them?" Tommy sighs. "Yeah, but they still aren't you love. You keep me calm."

As you pull up the long driveway, Tommy sits up and lays his head on your shoulder. "My fucking head is killing me." You give him a kiss. "I'd say so. You took quite the tumble today. And if you insist, I don't care to tag along a bit more than I do. But I can't help it if the boys give you shit over it." Tommy smiles up at you. "Fuck em, I need you. More than you could ever know. I love you "

"I love you too, Tommy sweetheart."

[lieutnt]

kinktober - #7

sex pollen w/ ftm!steven grant x top!male reader kinktober masterlist

The low hissing of gas has you instantly alert, finding Steven’s eyes blown with concern as you frantically search for the source. Breathing soon becomes a struggle, lungs fighting for each breath as your mind grows foggy, vision beginning to blur. Steven appears as equally affected, barely able to stand without a hand resting against the table as he throatily hacks into the room, desperate for clean air.

You barely notice when the hissing stops, mind disoriented as your cock throbs in your pants, arousal a blazing inferno sweeping through your body like a wildfire. You should be more concerned, but you’re unable to focus on anything but the need for release and one glance at Steven shows that he's feeling the effects as well, thighs grinding against one another in an attempt to find relief.

Time seems to slow as you walk towards each other, bodies bogged down by desperation and when you meet it’s a messy clash of spit and saliva, lips moving against one another as hands wander, your hand dipping under Steven’s pants to find him already soaked, slick pooling in your palm at the barest of touches. Your hips buck forward at the feeling of his hand circling your cock, spreading your arousal and pumping you quick and harsh.

At the first push of your finger Steven moans, walls desperately fluttering around the digit and even as it sinks in as deep as it can he’s begging for more against your mouth. 

The second enters just as easily as the first, engulfed by a wet heat as Steven rocks against them. His fist tightens around your cock, but even as pleasure spikes hot in your blood it feels as if something’s missing, his hand isn’t enough and tears begin to gather in the corner of Steven’s eyes as your fingers rub against his walls, the dull ache of emptiness beginning to amplify to his core.

What you’re doing can barely be considered kissing at this point, panting against each other’s mouths and you don’t need to be told twice when Steven begs for more. With more force than you intended you push him against the table, a low groan rumbling from your throat as he hastily pulls down his pants and underwear to mid-thigh, leaving you the view of his hole clenching around nothing while his inner thighs are shiny with arousal.

Your cock is achingly hard, and when you release it from its confines you can hear the wet smack of your hand against your shaft as you stroke yourself, wasting no time in resting your head against his hole and pushing in, synchronous moans tumbling from you both as you bottom out. 

Relief floods through your system, the corners of your vision becoming a little less hazy as his cunt clings to your cock, inner muscles fighting to keep you pressed inside. Despite the pleasure from the feeling of his warmth around your cock your body urges you to draw out, knocking a moan loose from Steven’s lungs as you snap back in.

Normally you would wait longer before setting a frenzied pace but with how open he is you don’t need to, driving your cock back inside with the instinct to cum. Arousal continuously drips from Steven, leaving your cock with a sheen when you pull out that has you growing wild, rutting into him as if you were no more than a beast in heat.

Your ears are deaf to the animalistic moans your throat releases as you chase your high, uncaring when you feel Steven tighten around you and his legs tremble as you push him through his first orgasm, the release only aiding you in fucking against his slippery walls. It doesn’t satiate him, the ache still intense as you grip his hips, yanking him back to meet your thrusts, bodies connecting in a noisy collision of schlick schlick schlick. 

Arousal burns heavy in your gut, white-hot zings of pleasure hurtling down your spine as your balls tighten. With a few more thrusts it’s like a dam bursts - cock spilling rope after rope inside him, more than you’ve ever done before as Steven cums again, pleasure ripping through his system.

Your bodies shift against one another, milking each other dry of the last of your orgasms. You collapse against his back, breathing heavily as exhaustion ripples through your body, cock pressed deep inside and plugging him full of your cum. Steven rests his forehead against the table, attempting to let the coldness of it infiltrate his skin as his cunt weakly pulses around your length, clenching to keep your cum deep inside.

Despite the last of the contagion fleeing your system you find yourself barely able to move, content with resting against Steven as you fight to gain your awareness back.

[just-another-personal-side-blog]

Session 0 - Damian Priest x Tattoo Artist

Part 1 of 6

Rating: T

Beta Reader: @jstarr86

“Trust me Dam, she’s the best at what she does. It doesn’t hurt that I’d trust her with my life. You’ve been going on about finally getting that back piece, there’s no one better.” Rhea practically herded him towards what looked like an absolute hole in the wall, his nerves judged it based on first appearance.

“Most of my art was done by her, I’ve been meaning to introduce Dom as well. You got first dibs of course.” She paused at the door giving him a single raised brow, “You do trust me, don’t you Damian?”

Cornered he let out a sigh, it doesn’t hurt to at least take a look to appease her. 

“Fine, after you.” 

A bell above the door could just barely be heard over the heavy rock that beat like a pulse within the confines of the lobby. Framed detailed tattoo sketches hung upon the walls, behind the front desk were a collection of awards and licenses to prove this place was legit. Folders full of premade basic bitch designs sat on the coffee table by comfortable leather chairs, Rhea pressed a button at the front. No sound could be heard but in a span of seconds a young woman came out from the back.

“How can I- Oh! Shit! Rhea! Hey girl! Why didn’t you give me a heads up that you were coming?” Priest looked up from one of the framed pieces he was admiring. Apparently the new arrival hadn’t noticed him from the angle he was standing, not something he was used to given his size. He took a moment to admire the person before him…

Purple faux hawk with an under-fade, full tattoo sleeves on both arms, legs, and back, several piercings both visible and one not, brilliant blue eyes with some intense metallic goth eye makeup and a stunning smile. A pair of fake leather leggings with lace ups on the outside of the legs, a fishnet crop top under a Beetlejuice tank top, tying it all together was a basic durable black dog collar and a pair of Demonia knee length boots.Unlike the blonde Barbie she was finishing up, Rhea’s friend wasn’t stick skinny. She was probably a good size 9 or 10, there was some plump flesh but it appeared to have some sturdy muscle underneath. A full pair of breasts accentuated beautifully with the fishnet, and hips perfect to dig fingers into.

“I brought a friend that I thought you might like meeting, he’s been talking about wanting a new big tat for awhile now. So I told him there's only one person I’d trust with that.” After a moment the girl turned to look at him, there was immediate recognition as well as shock across her features. It was brief and fleeting before putting up a friendly facade.

It took Rhea slapping on the bicep to smack Damian back present, realizing he’d been staring at the artist long after the gal she’d been working on had left happily. Meaning he had given her an intense resting bitch for a good minute now. Incredibly embarrassed Priest offered a hand which she accepted with an impressive firm hand shake.

“You can call me Minnie, only people I like get to use that.” Rhea playful shoulder checked her with a warm smile,

“It’s short for Minerva, her parents were from Athens originally”

“So your namesake is a Goddess of War, seems fitting.” Bright sky blue eyes flicked up from the sketchbook she’d grabbed to start jotting ideas from him. And without pause blossomed like a Sunflower, taking note of the dimple on her right cheek. 

“Best make sure you never get on my bad side, Rhea has some great stories of me chasing off her exes prior to Wrestling. I’m only five years older than her, not to mention like 5 inches shorter even without those elevator shoes she stomps around in.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed that at all. Both of you still don’t have me beat.”

“Well you clearly discovered immortality in high school, because you haven't aged a bit.”

Rhea perched herself on the spare stool in the room, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes as she watched the two getting comfortable with their back and forth.

“What she neglected to mention is the three times she chased them off with a metal bat wrapped in barbed wire and nails welded to it.”

“Jokes on you, I still sleep with that bat beside my bed. Safety first and all that fun stuff. Safer than a machete, I’d rather not accidentally stab myself in my sleep.”

“That’s why we’re best friends.” The Aussie grins before giving Minnie a cheeky wink.

“Why do I feel like I got led into a trap?” She wrinkled her nose at Damian before opening the sketchbook before her.

“You have nothing to worry about Butterscotch, I take my art very seriously. Now let’s start discussing what you’re looking to get and where. I’ll let you know now, that while I’m sure you’re likely VERY blessed… I don’t do anything where I gotta see dick or vag.”

Priest momentarily choked on his saliva while Rhea guffawed in glee. A quick side eye glare at her smothered the sound to a quiet chuckle. Something about her felt like she was messing with the poor Puerto Rican man, akin to a cat staring directly at their owner while pushing a glass of water off the counter playfully.

“You’ve already got plenty of gorgeous pieces on that flawless flesh. What are you thinking of doing?”

No hesitation he pulled his t-shirt up and over while turning to show the empty expanse of his back. Her breath caught audibly, eyes briefly went wide glancing at Ripley wildly. The female wrestler grinned like the Cheshire Cat, watching each interaction with fascination. Plans coming to fruition.

The tattooer bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to focus on what he was actually saying. Once locked in, Minnie began to sketch up fluidly upon paper, at one point he was leaning over her shoulder admiring the work of a talented creative. Bringing his vision to life on the crisp white paper, each description rumbled like incoming thunder located in the man’s voice box. Thank god for hyperfocus cuz lord only knows this was gonna be a genuine challenge for her self-control. All she wanted to do was trace those tattoos on him with her tongue. She had to shake her head to focus back in again, hands working on autopilot, taking in his words with each glide of charcoal across parchment. 

When he finished describing it she looked back up at him with a friendly smile,

“How big are you thinking of making it? So I know what to prepare for, as well as how many sessions to schedule in advance.” He tilted his head in thought momentarily before answering,

“Ideally I’d like it to cover a majority of my back.” She nodded in agreement,

“Alright, I’ve got the sketch started. I'll email you three different versions and you let me know what you like and what you don’t. And if there's aspects you like in one and want to add it to another one, just let me know. This is your tattoo on your skin, I want you to love it decades from now. How’s that sound?”  Damian was genuinely impressed with her professionalism, even as he controls the strong desire to flirt with her. This was a time to behave, she was Rhea’s best friend, and thus not someone to attempt to make any moves towards. 

“That sounds great to me, thanks.” Her smile was so sweet it could have made him diabetic just looking at it. 

“Great. Oh and Rhea, let me know when you want to come in and do those matching ghost tattoos with Dom.” 

“No rush, he’s busy planning his wedding right now so it’s gonna be a bit.”

“Sounds good to me. Now unfortunately I do have another client coming in twenty minutes so I gotta start prepping.” She pulled a business card from her bra, handing it over to Damian,

“My email and personal number is on there in case you think of something you want to add to the tat.Sound good?” Minnie gave a bashful little smile, and it made something deep in his chest want to say something incredibly forward. Rhea snagged him by the elbow, grinning like a cat that caught the canary. 

A nod of thanks was all he got out before being ushered back out, quicker than able to verbalize his appreciation. Ripley called back loudly,

“Thanks love! I’ll make sure he remembers to check his email regularly.” As if he didn’t already do that for work contacts to begin with. Once back in the car Priest gave his companion a look of utter suspicion, he could tell that she had ulterior motives. Nothing vicious or cruel, but she’d tried to set him up on a couple dates in the past, none that worked out. He’s focused on work, most women didn’t appreciate not being number one in his life. It’s been a string of disappointments, to where he bluntly asked Rhea to stop playing cupid. 

“This better not be an attempt at matchmaking again-” She cut him off with a sigh,

“I’ve long accepted that the ball is in your court from now on. I really truly just wanted you to go to an artist I’d trust my life with. She’s a good one, professional, talented, she spent twenty years as an apprentice before taking on her own clients. To top it off, she’s loyal, fun, and could use more genuine friends other than me. Can you blame me for that?” Her tone of voice was honest, after how much time they’d spent together, he could easily tell when she was bullshitting. Damian nodded to her as a show of acceptance to what she was saying. Her attention locked on the drive back to her place, Buddy was gonna get some sparring practice in with the other man. 

His gaze trailed a spot in the distance, trying to keep that woman out of his thoughts… failing miserably. She had such a lovely face, and all the art on display was impressive to be sure. The name Minerva fit her perfectly, especially with how protective she was of the Australian wrestler. It was endearing how she was barely 5’3 and was ready to take on the world to keep her 5’7 well-muscled friend safe. He hadn’t noticed the small smile that spread across his features, but Ripley sure took note of it. Keeping her features stoic while internally she was so pleased with herself. 

She pulled into the driveway where her man was waiting, he waved as they got out of the car. Buddy smiled at them, 

“I’m guessing it went well? Minnie is great at what she does. Rhea doesn’t like to share her with people, so it’s a hell of a compliment she brought you.” She gave him a quick kiss before heading into the house calling back,

“Play nice boys don’t forget the Terror Twins have some matches coming up.”

Damian shook his head w a huff before following the ginger towards their personal gym. Somehow he still had a sneaking suspicion that Rhea was playing a long game now instead of all the quick fruitless dates in the past… The image of Minerva slid by again, and for once… he might be okay with that.

Tagged:

@superlove167 @midnightlycan @mooshroomii420 @hotwheels1108 @misslackey @gigisview @abadbitchblogs @sexyblacksimper @sweetmoonlove0214 @daithideolishmer118 @tomandbuckyfan1 @terrortwinunicorn @iy-16-18 @sluttysierraaa @jstarr86 @zombiedixon89 @horsekoala @fearlesschimera @eringobragh420 @elainneoneill570 @gretavanhockey @moonwolfdemonprincess21 @sad-dreamer93 @agustd202204 @nubian-queen22 @kaitlinlovetwister @bosslady3168 @gabberzzz1998 @mol2311

[lost-in-lamentation]

marred.

a/n: and for my birthday, i would like to give lucifer a hug.

content: lucifer is overworked (shocker). takes place in original timeline.

warnings: nothing? i think?

comfort. lucifer × gen!reader (you/your).

it's late by the time you return home, the clock ticking far past midnight as you walk by it in the hallway. your steps are muffled by the carpet beneath you. the only sound that can be considered loud from you is the way the plastic bag in your hand crinkles with each step. you head towards the dining room, placing the bag on the table just as you hear a loud thud coming from above. you wonder if it's leviathan doing another game marathon, belphegor falling out of his bed, or satan having a late night tantrum. with a sigh, you turn heel and head back to your room, putting the rest of your belongings down before venturing out to see if you need to scold a certain brother. 

you poke your head into levi's room first, but write him off the list when you see him in his bathtub tapping away at his handheld console. you're about to check the twins next when something else catches your eye. it's not uncommon for lucifer to be working this late into the night, but his usual habits always have the lights dimmed. 

quietly, you rap on his door a few times, rocking back and forth on your heels until it clicks open. 

clearing your throat, you step inside and shut the door behind you. "i'm home," you say softly, crossing the room to where lucifer sits on the couch. "you're not working?" 

uncharacteristically, lucifer shakes his head no, briefly meeting your gaze before gesturing for you to sit next to him. "it… felt like a nice night to sit and watch the fire." 

"yeah?" you slot yourself next to him, shoulders brushing as you settle in. lucifer doesn't say anything more, but you're quick to notice his ungloved hands and the way his knuckles are white from clenching them so hard. without a word, you flip your own hand to have your palm facing up, keeping your eyes trained on the fire. you stay that way for a while, the crackling of the embers taking up the rest of your attention. it's only when you feel lucifer tentatively place his hand in yours that you look back at him. a gentle smile tugs at the corners of your lips before you turn to the fire again. 

lucifer opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. instead, he pulls your entwined hands up, pressing them to his forehead for a few seconds. in your grasp, you feel his hands trembling, and his breath is shaky against your skin. you face him again, this time with concern carved into your expression.

"tell me what's going on," you whisper, pulling your hands down so you can see lucifer's face. your heart sinks at the sight; the defeat marring his face is so blatant when it's just the two of you. 

his eyes barely meets yours. "i…" he pauses, and you worry that he is looking for a way out. but lucifer sighs after a second, his head hanging low. "i am tired." 

your chest constricts at the sight of lucifer being so vulnerable. slowly, you untangle your hand from his, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and tugging him down so his head lands in your lap. his eyes are red, and it's not the usual ruby coloured gaze you've grown accustomed to seeing. lucifer's eyes glow red with turbulent emotions, sadness and defeat overtaking all. "you've done well."

lucifer can feel the tenderness as you cup his cheeks, your care and compassion so stark that he feels like the dam will break. but you smile at him, and lucifer can't stop the warmth that spreads from your hands all the way into his own heart. pride be dammed when he is with you; nothing feels better to lucifer than when he finally feels understood. 

a/n: idk i had a pretty bad week actually but now i'm 22 and what better way to celebrate than putting lucifer through emotional hell, am i right?

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

[lensandpenpress]

Ozark Chair Shop, Beaver Dam.

Ozark Chair Shop, Beaver Dam.  Real photo postcard. Although this was called Ozark Chair Shop, for the passing tourist what caught the eye were the colorful drip-glaze pots in many sizes that filled the shelves and yard. Nut head dolls, cedar boxes and wood carvings were more locally made souvenirs sold along the highways. “You may also see many small jars in a very attractive variety of colors…

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part Twenty - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: kind of kidnapping if you squint ; mentions of death ; violence ; angst ; nsfw kudos to @scarlettspectra and @lilspookymeh for being music gurus and basically inspiring my entire writing playlist ❤️

“John, I can’t stay here - I have work, Michael.”

“It’s not up for debate.” 

She scowls at the way he talks to her like a petulant child, looks over at Winston for help and finds none.

“You can’t make me stay here,” she grits.

He fixes her with a dark, mean look, clears the distance between them in one stride, and grabs her before she can think about running. “I can make you stay, but I don’t want to have to do that.”

He’s really just springing this on her. Because the death of Maria puts a target on his back and therefore a smaller one on hers, John thinks the best solution is keeping her locked in the safe house that is Winston’s massive hotel. No consulting her, no talking about options. Just cut and dry. Do as I say. She’s offered alternative solutions, even - “I’ll walk around with Victor’s - sorry, Viggo’s - bodyguards at my side!” - because, of course, her having a private little secret service of her own is now unnegotiable, too. Imagine that.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she retorts, voice quiet despite her lionhearted words. 

“I’m not speaking in metaphors,” John says, “you’re staying here. Either way. I need you safe.”

She tries to tear her arm from his grip, but it’s like attempting to wrestle with a gorilla. “So what? I’m just supposed to stay locked up in your gilded cage and forget I have a life?”

He loosens his hold a little bit, lets her puffy flesh spring back from bruising, and softens, hard rock eyes turning molten. Still, there is fire involved. “You can hate me if you want. You don’t have to look at me or speak to me, but I’m responsible for your safety, now. I need you unharmed.”

Ah, there it is again, that fucking pang in her heart that leaves her whole being bloodless and aching when he reminds her why she’s ultimately here - pity. 

Sure, he’s told her otherwise a thousand times now, and his actions are testament to how much he wants her, but that admittance is all she needs to start thinking she’s a charity case again. 

Tears swell her eyes. 

She can’t believe they’ve gone from bliss to this in such a short amount of time. And now what? She’s trapped here and humiliated? Pitied? 

“No, I didn’t-“ 

“Yeah you did,” she whispers, looking down at the shiny dark floor, watching little tear droplets accumulate on its surface.

He lets her pull away and gathers every ounce of his willpower to avoid following as she walks out of the room and into the bustling hotel. 

“That went well,” Winston comments, flipping through the manila envelope of witness statements.

His knuckles ache to punch something. Marcus isright here, downing scotch like it’s his last day on earth - maybe he thinks it is - one little punch wouldn’t hurt him. 

More willpower used up to not hit Marcus. He decides to leave the room instead. 

Marcus thinks he did it. Winston might as well think so, too. The eight witnesses that put him at the location say he did. 

The only person that knows he didn’t do it - because he was instead with her when he supposedly took a round trip flight to El Paso and fixed a bullet into Maria’s skull - wants nothing to do with him when the only thing he wants is to curl up beside her and lament. 

He needs an outlet. 

———————————

“You need to call the police,” Michael tells her. His voice fades away for a minute while she hears rummaging in the background. 

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble Michael. It’s not like I’m being tortured or something.” 

“And?” 

“It wouldn’t matter.” 

“I don’t know, they could probably come get you out of there?” 

“I don’t think cops come here, Michael. I don’t think they’re allowed to be here.”

He pauses for dramatic effect, probably. She’s glad she called him. His usual antics calm her. “They’re not allowed to tear gas peaceful protesters either, but….. ”

“No, I think they kill them here.” 

“Sneak out,” Michael concludes. 

“That’s my next bid.” 

“Damn, your pussy must be god tier if this man is kidnapping you, though.” 

She rolls her eyes. 

“What?! I’m just saying!” She hears the no good grin and it puts a smile on her face. 

“I don’t know how I’m gonna pay rent, Michael. I told work, but they’re probably going to fire me - if they even believe me - and then I won’t have income to pay my share-“

“ Are you serious?” Michael sighs. “You’ve just been kidnapped and you’re worried about me ? Babe, stop.”

“We made a deal Michael, and all I’ve done is fuck it up.” 

“Worry about getting out of there, and we’ll sort it out once you’re free of crazy boyfriend.”

“He’s not crazy,” she tries, “he’s just… worried.” 

“Uh-huh.” Michael takes another pause.  “Anyway, what is this place called?”

“You are not coming here, Michael. You’ll get hurt.” 

“Why? I’m not a cop.”

“Michael.”

“Right, right. You’re living the mystery novel life. Is it wrong that I’m a little jealous?” 

“No, I guess not. He just kind of makes it seem like he has to keep me here. I feel like a burden.”

“ You ? Feeling like a burden ?” The sharp sarcasm in his voice cuts. “Have you tried telling him that?”

“Well, no, but I’m scared.” 

Michael sighs. “Jesus, hun, I’m not sure what to tell you here. Sounds like he’s a little bit dysfunctional. Maybe he’s just not ready for a relationship. I mean, he has to know that holding you against your will isn’t okay.” 

She sighs back. It’s like their own little angsty language. “It’s not like I’m normal.” 

“Ah, so maybe the darkness in you calls to the darkness in him?” Michael sounds like he’s reciting breathy Shakespeare.

She laughs. 

——————-

The Continental is massive, shimmering, crystal chandeliers and intricate, antique carpets. 

Spotless, open, airy, a few delicate plants dotted about. Every room or hallway or lobby she enters feels too big - like she’s a kid again, tiny in proportion to everything else. Even the elevators gold and glimmer and loom.

Private clubs with massive polished oak doors to guard against entry, workers in perfectly tailored suits everywhere; one around each corner, in the bars and shops, diligent and watching. 

If she had any hope before of getting out of here, now she definitely doesn’t. Seems like every exit has an individual posted on it who would put Benny’s hulking mass to shame. 

She sees a woman who is taller than John, in a sleeveless tuxedo dress, muscles rippling over her shoulders and neck. She doesn’t think she has ever envied or admired someone so much. Despite the bodybuilder physique, this towering lady moves like flowing water. She just stares at her for a few minutes, entranced by the otherworldly beauty. How can he even think of liking her when women like this live and breathe? 

It’s easy to forget the outside world exists, here. But, she stills feels trapped - heralded off to some magical realm where everyone has a gun tucked under their shirt instead of a magic wand. 

She gets lost in the place, always expecting John to be waiting for her around corners or down a hallway. He’s not, though, instead leaving her alone like he said he would. That pisses her off and disappoints her a little bit; she wants him to follow her, fight for her, extinguish her flame of independence, which must mean there’s seriously something wrong here. He can’t just lock her up and then leave. 

Ignoring the empty John shaped space in her gut, she walks until she finds the library. Wall to wall shelves, rolling ladders carved in intricate, braided designs, a few cozy reading nooks. Librarian fantasy says hello. 

She scowls at the thought, goes to the fairytale section, lying to herself about thinking of John in this instance, too.

As chance would have it, someone she recognizes is here. The older woman from the bookstore in the mall, still sans reading glasses, squinting at the cover of a worn yellow hardback. 

“Do you need some help with that?” 

“Oh, my dear, nice to see you again.” There is an air of poise about this woman even in her shortcomings. She hands the book delicately to her rescuer, smiling softly. “Would you mind?” 

“Oh,” she thumbs the cover, feels the carved gold letters on the front. “This is Alice in Wonderland.” 

“Lewis Carroll?” 

“Yeah, I can tell you about this without even reading it.” She grins, cheeks puffing, pleased to have someone familiar here. 

The woman takes the book from her hands and sticks it back. “As interesting as Alice in Wonderland is, I’d much rather talk to you. You don’t belong here, do you? In a place like this?” 

She looks down at her feet. “Ah, no.” Really, she could pose the same question, but she finds herself unsurprised that nice stranger books in this hotel. Maybe it was the men in suits at her side. Maybe it’s because she’s used to this by now - fitting in nicely, snug as a bug in a rug. Meant for the underground. 

“So why are you here, dear?” 

They end up sitting in one of the lounges. She offers to go grab them both tea, paying for it and tipping despite hospitality, and then settles in to talk. This woman reminds of her of Winston, or like one of the kind, witty grandmothers from sparse foster homes. No matter how mean the rest of the family was, usually the elders were double kind to make up for it. 

She ends up telling her small things. Not too much, but more than she can Michael. This woman is already involved in the ancient crime world, so she feels like she can divulge more info. Plus, she’s confident that anyone here could just type her name into some imaginary database and bring up every detail about her, anyway. 

“Ah, John Wick, Boogeyman.” 

“People keep calling him that. I don’t think he’s that scary.” 

The woman laughs. “I don’t know, I’ve only heard. Never met.”

“Well, he’s actually nice,” she supplies, sipping her hibiscus tea. “Stubborn, but nice.”

“And he’s keeping you here to protect you, so he can’t be all bad.” 

“Yeah… we’ll go with that.” 

The woman laughs. “Oh, there is a fire in you. Misplaced, but a fire all the same.” 

“Misplaced?”

“You desire hardness, outer armor, to be strong, but you don’t realize that your true power comes from your softness.”

“I’m tougher than I look.” 

“I’ve no doubt.” Her contemplative eyes assess the cementing posture. 

“Sorry, I’m just. I’m irritated that I have to stay here.” She drops her shoulders, relaxes her jaw. 

“You’ve got a free spirit. You remind me of someone I once knew.”

“Was it you?” She smiles again. 

“Indeed. Unfortunately, this old bird had her wings clipped long ago.” 

“Your wings are massive and amazing, still.” 

The elder beams at her. “You know, my children think I’m out of my mind.”

“Huh? But you’re not.”

She shrugs. “They want my empire. I suppose I am getting older - should probably relinquish it sooner rather than later.” 

Just like with John, she feels that deep dive questions would be too forthcoming and intrusive here. “So, they’re making up stuff to get it? Sounds like your kids aren’t that great.” 

“Ah, but isn’t that my fault if they are not great, then?” She sighs and leans back into cushions that swallow her small frame. 

This is a hard question. She’s spent a lifetime blaming foster parents for fucking her up so much. 

“See? You can’t argue with that.” Her crinkled smile widens. 

“Mistakes are mistakes. The past doesn’t define the future. You do seem lovely now, regardless of what happened when they were kids.” 

“What do you do for work, my darling?”

“I’m a nurse.” 

——————————-

After talking for a long time with Ella, her mystery bookstore friend, she goes to knock on Winston’s study door, surprised she can even find it again. It takes a while, and she gets completely lost in the process. 

“Won’t find him in there. I think he’s downstairs. Do you need something?” She turns to find a tall, tattooed, beautiful woman folding linens onto a silver cart. 

“Oh, I just wanted to talk to him. Sorry.”

“You’re John’s girl?” She holds out a hand, gives a soft smile. “I’m a good friend of his.”

Why in the hell can’t she repress the jealousy raging inside her as she takes this absolutely gorgeous woman’s hand in her own? “Uh, yeah.” She resists asking how everyone seems to know what she looks like and who she belongs to. Maybe it’s just that distinguishable? John Wick with a fat girlfriend. 

Ouch . Back to hurting her own feelings again. 

“Oh, it’s really nice to meet you. A friend of John’s is a friend of mine. I’m a bell hop, trying to work my way up into bartender. They make more money.” She fixes her pile of cloth and then looks up as if forgetting something. “I’m Addie.” 

She’s at a loss for words, feels incredibly sheepish around this girl for no reason - exposed and open, ready for final judgement. Harrowing.

She introduces herself back despite trepidation and tries to give a warmer smile than she’s capable of right now. “Oh, that’s cool. You like bartending?” 

Addie laughs at some inside joke. “Oh, God no. Not in this city. But in the hotel, it’s great. Not many other bar owners will let you punch their customers for getting too handsy.”

She laughs. “Serves them right.” 

“I don’t mean to pry,” Addie smooths over a crisp sheet. “But how did you meet John?” 

Oh, the million dollar embarrassing question. “The prison. I was his nurse.” 

“Oh, that’s cute as hell.” Addie’s melodic giggle helps lower her raised haunches. “He hasn’t gone steady in a minute. I’m glad he’s happy. I’ve known him since we were kids, I mean, and he hasn’t been this sunshiny in a long time.”

Ah, another one of John Wick’s long time friends. “He’s a pretty good guy.” 

Addie nods. “Ah, we’re not passing the bechdel test.”

She chuckles. “You’re right.” 

“We will next time, promise. I gotta get back to work.” Addie gives her a wink and then she’s off. She calls back over her shoulder, “I’ll tell Winston you’re looking for him.”

“Thanks, but you don’t-“

“It’s fine.” Addie grins back. “He’s not busy.” 

—————————

She gets lost a few more times, maybe just maybe hoping for a tall, dark hero to come swoop her up and apologize. She’s more disappointed than she should be when that doesn’t happen. 

But, she does run into Charon again when she finds the front entrance. 

He gives her a small smile. “I trust you are finding the provisions here adequate, Miss?” 

She leans on his counter, emboldened by the lack of patrons in the lobby. “Could I ask you something?”

“Anything.” 

“I was in the library, and I saw the book with you in it. Behind the big glass display case, you know? You were in an orchestra in the pictures. Do you play… cello, right?”

“That’s correct. Well, was correct. I haven’t played in several years. Do you play?” 

“Ah, no.” She shrugs. “I just saw you in there and you looked amazing. Like really in your element.”

“Do I look.. out of my element now?” His head tilts, smile broadening.

“No, no, not at all.” Her eyebrows furrow. “Sorry, I just meant - you really looked like you loved it.”

“I did. It was exhilarating.” 

“Why don’t you do it anymore?” 

“I suppose I just got busy with other duties. I enjoy working at the hotel. The light of the stage was wonderful for a while, but I realized I was meant for a quieter fate. One with less excitement.”

“This is less excitement?” She gestures around. 

“Continental ground is sacred. We rarely have to take action against our guests for violence.” He pauses. “I know your experience has indicated otherwise.” 

She shakes her head. “Sorry, I didn’t-“

“There is nothing to be sorry for.” His pleasant smile still lingers as testament to that. “It’s alright to be curious. Ask me anything you want.”

She does. She asks who can stay here, who is not allowed to stay here, how long it’s been around, who built it. She asks him about the cello, if his hands got scarred, if he would play again at some point so she could come to his concert. 

Charon is infinitely interesting, sports the same dark humor that John does, and she chats with him until he gets customers. 

—————————

John stays gone. All day, all night. The more time goes by, the more anxious she gets. She should be angry, seething, but instead she just wants him to be okay, to come back to her. She’s grown so miserably attached to this elusive man, and the insanity that goes with that attachment is eating at her like swarms of locusts on fresh fields of grain.

—————————

He’s all bruised knuckles and blood flecked, sinew and tendon and vein. The smell of diesel and sweet liquor and heavy iron. She can’t help but peak at him from under the comforter while he undresses. 

“Good morning.” 

Of course he knows. He’s got sonic radar. She flushes, and doesn’t answer him. 

“I’d ask if you want to join me in the shower, but that would make me a bigger asshole.” 

“I don’t remember even saying you could stay in the same room as me anymore,” she grumbles, shifting under the blanket so a few of her toes peak from the end.

He resists tickling her. 

“You’re right. Let me take this shower, and I’ll book another one.”

“Are you rich?” She asks. 

“I have money.”

“Like, rich money?” 

He raises a dark eyebrow and looks far too good standing nude and bruised on the cold hardwood. 

“Does it matter?”

“I feel like you’re trying to buy me off.” 

He snorts, rubs a flexing hand down his abdomen and yawns. God, he’s fucking delectable. “Would it work?”

“Fuck you, John.” She tries to make her words hurt, but they’re half assed and weak.

He’s got a smile that makes her seethe and clench at once. Infuriating bastard. 

“Want me to fix that attitude with my tongue?” He offers, watches her toes curl up as she turns the other way and becomes a smaller mound under the covers. 

“I want you to go away.” 

He gives her credit for the control in her thickened voice. Saliva, always giving her away. 

“You got it.”

When the bathroom door shuts, she flings the blanket off and goes to get breakfast. For herself. 

Winston catches her in the dining room. “Do the clothes I sent up fit?” He asks. 

“Yeah, they do. Thank you. I appreciate it.” She looks distraught, out of element.

He hums and threads her arm with his, walking with her to the serving bar. “I’m sure he’ll take you to get your clothes and toiletries soon,” Winston promises. “I offered to have Charon escort you, but Johnathan seems to have faith in your ability to weasel away.” 

She huffs a laugh. “I’m not promising I wouldn’t try to escape.” 

“Are you angry with me?”

“No, I get it, he’s a bully.” 

“Ah, can’t say it’s entirely his fault. I’m concerned for your safety, too.” Winston sits with her as she orders cheesy eggs and toast and orange juice. 

“If he would have just explained it better, maybe I would have compromised.”

“Unless you know how to kill someone, I’m afraid there’s little compromise for you here.” Winston pauses, rubbing at the slick surface of the bar top. 

“I’m still mad at him.” She’s not sure why she feels so comfortable talking to Winston about her relationship problems, but the man is more than happy to chat and advise. 

“I can understand that. What can I do to make you feel better?” 

“Oh, no, Mr. Scott, you’ve already done so much. I’m sorry for being like this.” 

He smiles warmly, amusement cresting the crinkles of his face. 

Normally, she’s wary of being touched, but there is nothing except reassurance in Winston’s hand rested over hers. “My dear, you are human. Flesh and bone. Your feelings and emotions are your power, no matter how overwhelming they may become. Never forget that.” 

She feels a little like she has stepped from the mortal realm into fae territory. Everything shines and dazzles, wise figures give her hopeful advice, and there is a beautiful, inhuman man terrorizing her with a small grin from across the room.

She quickly looks away from John, and Winston of course notices the pick up in nerves. 

“Do you want me to kick him out?” He asks her. 

She giggles. “Will he leave?” 

“It’s worth a try.” 

Avoiding John Wick is kind of like being a moth who hates light. 

When he looks at her, she’s looking at him. And vice versa. She tries to eat, but feels too nervous to finish with coal eyes burning the endless fire in her belly, asks for a to go box and gulps the rest of her orange juice down. 

He watches her while she walks out, sipping his black coffee, unabashedly staring directly at her beautiful bottom. 

“I’ve thought about it,” Winston tells him, taking the seat across the table. “And I believe you.” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” John asks. 

Winston ignores his sour mood. “Someone is trying to frame you, Johnathan. Someone wants you dead. With eight witnesses, the high table will come for you. Especially concerning the public knowledge that Maria put a bounty on your head. This is a war that ends one way.” 

“I know.” 

“So, do something.”

————————-

“I’m sorry.” 

She turns around to find him leaning into the door jam.

“I told you I wasn’t good at this.” He motions between them. “But that’s no excuse to be an asshole.”

“I’m not good at it either, in case you didn’t notice,” she replies dryly. 

“If you get hurt, I’m not sure what I’ll do,” he admits. 

“But I can’t live like a clipped bird, John. And you’re just so forceful about it. I can’t get a word in when your mind is set. Michael has been nothing but good to me, and now I’m bailing on him. I like my job. It makes me feel like I have a purpose.”

“It’s not forever, just until I can figure this out.”

“Is it really that dangerous? If it is why did we start this in the first place?” That kind of sounds like she regrets the relationship, so she doubles back. “Sorry, that’s a stupid question. I would gladly meet you again and again, even if it meant more hardship, John, but I can’t just leave my old life.” 

He gives a deep, baritone sigh, running hands through his damp hair. 

She gets a little waft of the delicious shampoo he used, and itches to go to him. 

“Just give me a day. One day. I’m going to fix this, and I need you to trust me.”

She eyes him, makes him feel vulnerable - raw - with the power of her stare.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” It sounds more like a plead than a demand, so she provides.

“Are you just doing this because you feel like you have to? Am I inconveniencing your life even more?” 

He looks at her for a very long time.

Then, pads over and tips her chin up with his fingers. “I live in a dangerous world. I’m scared to lose you in its chaos.” 

“But is it out of obligation or-“

“It’s because I need you.”

“You need me?”

He presses his forehead against her own. “Yes.” There is frustration in his voice.

She cradles the back of his head, inhaling spice and salt, quiet and still. Some kind of storm will rage and destroy her later, but for now she can keep it at bay while he is folding her up and pressing her into the bed. 

“This doesn’t solve anything,” she says, trying not to lose her resolve in the delicious wet of his mouth. 

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, lips trailing the sensitive bridge of her ear. 

She doesn’t. Lets him gather her hair back and lick behind her lobe, turn her into a quivering little mess of a human clinging to his sweatshirt. 

He can’t get enough of her in his mouth at once, uses his hands to make up for the loss, cups her tummy and groans at how soft she is. God, he could just sink right into her and never come out. 

“This is all I wanna do,” he says. “Every time I look at you, you just get more tempting. That cute little smile, pretty skin, soft little body. Who sent you here to destroy me?” 

“Th-the FBI.” She’s smiling that sunshine smile, animosity an afterthought, pulling at her new fixation which happens to be his velvet hair, rubbing her fingers into his scalp. 

His cock gives a little jump against her thigh, and he vibrates for her again. Ah, of course it’s the hair. 

“You like it when I play with your hair?” She asks, voice hitched high and tight as he sucks down her neck. 

“Yeah,” he admits. 

“I uh, yeah, l-like your hair, Johnny.” She sloppily threads a strand around her fingers, tugging just a little. 

And to think he was contemplating getting another buzz cut because of this mess always being in his face. Not now. Now he would never cut it again. Now it was his pride and fucking joy. 

He snakes his hands under her shirt, rubs at her bare tummy, pulls and feels and groans about how fucking pillowy she is - about how a bullet would probably just bounce right off of her. 

“Fuck, I love this,” he says, making her giggle and grab his fingers. 

“Tickles,” she tells him.

Immune to bullets, but not to soft fingers digging into her plump. He can’t help the hells grin while he indulges himself and makes her a giggly, frantic mess. “Where you going? Huh?” Chasing her up the bed, pressing her against the pillows, making her scream and curse his name. 

Only a little bit of fun, and then he’s kissing her ribs, pulling her bra up to let these beautiful tits flop in his face so he can nuzzle between them. Giggles into moans, the chant of her hips matching the rhythm of mewling sounds. 

“You’re so fuckin sweet.” 

Her hands make their way back to his hair.

Big cock pressing and grinding into her giving thigh, fingers running circles around her areolas to tease, mouth nipping at the tips of her breasts. 

He gets her begging, whining, needs her to ask him for it. 

“Pretty girl wants to cum on my tongue again, huh?”

“Yeah.” Little shimmering tears in her lashes, lips all puffy and big just like her nipples. 

“Tell me. Tell me, babydoll.” 

Flooding with hot embarrassment, biting her lip, trying not to crumble and break, she does her best for him, tries her hardest to make him happy. “John, make me cum. Please.”

It’s not good enough. “Ah, ah,” he scolds. “Make you cum on what?” 

“Y-your tongue. Want your tongue. Please, fuck.” 

“There you go.” And how could he ever fucking say no? 

How could he not spend a decade between these comfy thighs eating her sweet puffy cunt nice and slow. 

Fucking her on his fingers, tickling her little clit with his tongue and making her her hips spark up off the bed, giving her rug burn on top of rug burn while she pulls his hair and curses his wicked mouth. Sometimes it hurts, especially like now when she’s too drunk on his mouth to be careful or sweet - and he fucking loves it. 

He may never be able to convince her that he’s sorry with words, but he can still use his mouth to accomplish the same goal.

By the sounds of it, she, at least for now, forgives him.

[heartfullofleeches]

D.kay so down bad that on rare occasions that the reader does smile, D.kay suddenly becomes blind and can't see shit.

"Y/n..... I have found the name of your childhood best friend and written a report classifying them as a downer. If you do not smile twenty-four fuckin seven-" The murderbot coughs, pushing the frame of their non-existent glasses up their non-existent nose. "Excuse me. If you do not smile a considerable amount of the day, I will send this in and have them executed by gunfire at noon exactly one week from now."

"May I see that?"

"Certainly!"

You look at the paper. "Besides you using the Grammer of a twelve year old, and the fact I can tear this to shreds right now, that's actually my childhood bully."

You place your hands over your ears. 3...2....1-

"God.... DAM IT! Hope ur happy to kno I already kicked them outta window before I even came to you wit this. i did u a favor before i even new it. That's gotta count for somethin'! You gotta smile for me, Y/n. Just one - plz?"

"Maybe later. Gotta scrounge up something to eat before I head out to pick up some groceries." You brush the bot aside and continue on into the kitchen. Day in and out that's all they ever tried to do. You'd proven before you weren't a so called "downer" their company falsely listed you as by smiling and even laughing in their presence before, but those little glimpses into your happy side only made them want to make you smile for the rest of your days. It was cute at first, but if you really smiled as much as they wanted your face would get stuck in an endless grin. A win for them, but for you - not so much.

Opening the freezer, boxes of various frozen foods fall out onto the floor - the icebox stuffed to capacity with your favorite brands and treats. You check the fridge, and it's the exact same story. You hadn't gone shopping in weeks. You glance back at D.Kay who sits at the kitchen table with their arms folded like a toddler deprived of sweets - a piece of sticky tape slapped over their permanent smile scribbled with a deep frown.

"Dee... Did you get all this?"

D.Kay tilts their head as if mimicking an eye roll. "Yea??? U haven't bought shit in weeks, and i can't let my human starve. i used your bully's cash so don't worry about ur budget or whatever."

Picking up a box of popsicles off the floor, your lips tug upwards as you pull on out. "Thanks, D.Kay."

The tape covering their mouth floats to the floor. Their face scree glitches - beady, oval eyes flickering between black and pink. They rise slowly from their chair.

"Stop it..."

Popsicle hanging out your mouth, you look at them puzzled. "What?"

In a flash, the murderbot shuts the distance between you - shaking your shoulders violently with each pause. "Stop. Being. So. Fuckin. Cute! U tryin to send me back to the lab for malfunctions!?!"

"I thought me smile was a good thing."

"It is a good thing! It's the greatest god dam thing is hell rock has to offer - that's why I need to prep myself before you do it. I'm ready now - do it again!"

D.Kay snatches the popsicle stick and presses the cold bar against your lips. "Smile! I need it! You got me addicted, Y/n! Give me my fix. Give it to me!!!!"

[starythewriter]

A seductress’s favorite boy toys - Damon X klaus X Y/N

WATTPAD

TW: SMUT! Slut, name calling,rough sex, possessive.

A/N: tysm for all of y’all’s support!

Here is a Damon X klaus X you! This is NOT a threesome.

But think of it as a few from a seductress and a friend of Damon and klaus, this isn’t the only time they’ve had intimate sessions with you but they enjoy every single second.

I hope you all enjoy!

“hey my darling Y/N”

you blushed as you felt klaus near you breathing heavily into your neck.

his hands wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you close to him, you moaned feeling hot… Damon entered the room… you quickly turned around asking klaus to leave. you could tell klaus didn’t want to… so you gave him a kiss.

“hey Y/N… what were you doing?

using that boy toy of yours?”

you read his face he was fietsy “why are you jealous? you know… what if I had multiple?” you slowly brushed your finger tips across his V line… he quickly grabbed you pushing you onto a table. you moaned under his strong presence… “don’t play guys with me Y/N what do you want”

“you Damon…”

you moaned again slowly, as you took off your shirt playing with your nipples.

he groaned like he was thirsty for BLOOD, “Y/N… don’t do this… what will

klaus do if he finds out? I don’t want him to hurt you”

“that’s none of your concern Damon…. plus just admit that his lust would cloud any harm he could do to me just as it does for you”

you whisper those words to him, slowly kissing him, he quickly undresses, you moan louder slowly kissing his abs. you can feel his member harden in the pants he has on, you slowly remove the rest of your clothes.your eyes were closed and he gently kissed your lips, you then reversed he was now on the table, you slowly started to ride his raw cock. “fuck… your so dam pretty darling… I just can’t resist you”

“ I know Damon you couldn’t move a finger to hurt me”

“Oh someone’s a little egotistical”

“really Damon?… none of you have hurt me”

you say I’m a bratty voice, slowly moaning as he continues to kiss you with more passion.

Damon slowly grinds aganist you taking in your eyes and examining your body. ‘I want you so bad…’You start to rock up and down on him, making his dick twitch against the thin fabric covering your clit.‘please let’s not keep Klaus waiting…

you start to grind faster, you both are so close to reaching your breaking point, ‘just another second… ‘ you moan as you feel his cock throbbing against your pussy’s walls, ‘just one more inch’ you thought as you feel his fingers brushing against your opening, ‘one more inch… ‘ you reach your peak…’then it happened…I’m coming! you moan… Damon looks so lewd… you both slowly finish with a makeout “I’ll see you again soon Damon.”

he vanishes immediately… as klaus enters “had fun darling?”

“yes daddy…”

“get on your knees Y/N”

you blush slowly kissing the sharp jawline that klaus had.

‘oh god, how long has it been since i felt his touch… or his lips… or his cock’ you think looking at the small scar that runs from his eyebrow to his chin.“good girl…”Klaus said placing a hand on your cheek and rubbing it lightly with his thumb. slowly klaus kissed you again, he quickly got undressed, you tried to seduce him but he threw you into the bed doggy style.

“take this my slut… I’m gonna make you forget him”

you moaned loudly as klaus entered you.

you quickly realized that this was different than the other times. it hurt more… and klaus seemed more desperate… he was moving quicker than usual and his thrusts were deeper… he was hitting your prostate harder, as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“klaus-“

“Y/N…. your so tight” you quickly felt yourself cumming as klaus’ thrusts became faster and harder. “ahh.. y/n… fuck!”klaus collapsed on top of you.“I love you klaus…”you whispered softly as he pulled away leaving marks on your chest.“good night y/n!

[jmdbjk]

Wow.

I can't leave to enjoy a few days vacation without the world falling apart?

Hybe vs. Min HeeJin. Not on anyone's bingo card this year. I have not caught up on everything but who tipped off Hybe about her dastardly plans? The timing of it all... and her little extemporaneous skit she did for a press conference was perhaps part of her plan to turn public opinion in her favor? She claims to have invented kpop or at least made it what it is today but out the other side of her mouth says she hates idol culture?

Hybe's not here to play, they will not be nice. I see no benefit to her for showing us the not so pretty side of the idol industry. Maybe that's her problem, she can't see what she's doing because she's too far into it. Thirty years in the business will make you lose your objectivity. She has no idea she is coming across as a greedy, spoiled, entitled, manipulative, narcissistic, emotional female in a male dominated industry. Basically a nut case.

The lady had a tremendous opportunity to perhaps take ownership of her company in due time, become a great example for female leadership in a country where corporate culture is steeped in chaebolism. Instead she squandered that and thinks she will come out on top. Did she miss the Hybe vs. SM Entertainment episode from last year?

Anyway.

RM's new album! RPWP!

The Monochrome pop up store is doing well!

Jin will be back after 6 Fridays!

In other news. I went to Las Vegas. This is what I saw:

The Bellagio Fountains. They're huge. The Bellagio is SWANK. I looked for Jimin in Dior and Tiffany, Hobi in the Louis Vuitton store, Namjoon in the Bottega Veneta store, but none of them were in there. There was no Calvin Klein store.

When Hobi, JK and Tae were there watching the fountains dance to Dynamite, they were standing here:

Passed by Allegiant Stadium a few times. It's huge.

Drove out to Seven Magic Mountains. I am happy to report the lowest boulders had no writing or graffiti. They were amazingly huge as you can see.

Joon's pic of the above rocks:

Went to AREA 15 and it was HUGE and amazing! It's impossible to show everything that its about, there are multiple buildings and installations and activities, gift shops, bars, etc. We went into the Omega Mart (mega art) experience which led to a maze of fantastically created chambers, each different from the last one, all pulsing with animated lights, texture walls, ceilings and floors.

And ate at Hobak Korean BBQ. We couldn't find out which tables the members of BTS sat at but I got a pic of the Butter album they all signed. There were other autographs from other famous Korean celebs but the BTS signatures were displayed in a more prominent place on the wall.

We also scoped out The Sphere. Also HUGE. The concert space is arena sized. I don't know who was playing there that night but the parking lot was filling up.

We also walked the Strip.

The Fremont Street Experience. That's an animated video screen overhead with ziplines running through the length of it. It's two blocks of casinos, restaurants and gift shops. People are also doing busking and shows at street level.

Hoover Dam, view of the dam from the highway bridge and view of the highway bridge from the dam. Spent a few minutes on the Arizona side.

Hiked in the desert. Saw cactus and wildlife. Drank a lot of water.

Drove to the Mojave Desert Preserve in California just to say we did.

We hated leaving. It was a fun trip. But damn, I have so much stuff to catch up on now. Hiatus my ass.

If Vegas is on the BTS comeback tour I promise I will be there this time.

We gambled at the airport on our way out. The slot machines were next to our gate. And in the baggage claim area. But as you can see, its not just about gambling there.

In case you didn't get it, everything in Vegas is HUUUGGE and FARRRR. Walk a lot, spend a lot of money.

Overall, Las Vegas was clean, the people were extremely friendly and welcoming of course, they might be teaching hospitality as a school subject there, I don't know.

[octuscle]

hey, I think I need some help. I was put in charge of my friend’s bachelor party, but I really didn’t have much time to get things together, so I went online and found a company that offered to plan everything. Had us go with this “mountain cabin” theme. The rep from the company mentioned he needed to talk to my buddy alone and we haven’t seen him since. One of the other guys went to go look for him too and we haven’t seen him in a bit either. Reason I’m asking for your help is because this cabin resort is filled with all these lumberjack types- they all look and sound the same. Plus I just saw them put up a sign about a construction project. Not sure what’s going on, but I’m worried

Buddy, just take a look at it. I would not form an opinion from the pictures on the Internet. However, you already form an opinion on the way to the lodge. In fact, there seem to be quite a few major infrastructure projects going on in the area. Looks like a dam project. In any case, the lodge is not idyllic. The road is churned up by large construction machines. When you arrive at the lodge, your car is splattered with mud. The air is filled with a concert of axes, machine saws and jackhammers. Definitely not the place you want to celebrate a bachelor party.

To your surprise, your friend comes running up to you. So… You assume that it is your friend. The facial features are at least similar. But he doesn't wear glasses. And also otherwise rather little. He shows a lot of skin. And many muscles. Fuck, last week you were just sitting on the couch, shoveling junk food into you and watching hours of Netflix. The fellow hugging you now looks like he feeds on bears he kills with his bare hands.

Bruh, good to see you, he says. Where's everyone else? The party is already in full swing. He and his new friends would have so much fun here already. He whistles impressively loud on his fingers. And your friend Christopher comes running. He also hugs you and almost crushes you. And he looks like a brother if not like his twin brother of the groom. At best, you can recognize him by details of his facial features. Crazy. Absolutely crazy!

Your friend asks Christopher to show you around a bit. He would like to do it himself. But the rocks don't blow themselves up. Christopher and he laugh out loud at the lame joke. And you wonder if your loafers will survive a walk in this muddy landscape. Christopher takes you to the cafeteria first. This is where the party will take place, he says. You look around and try not to look horrified. Bare white tables, long benches, glaring neon light. The only decoration is the hot fellows who are taking a break here. Fuck, do these lumberjacks and construction workers turn you on? Christopher puts a tray with two cups of coffee and some donuts on the table. The donuts are especially for you. Specialty of the chef. The filling is delicious! Well, you first take a sip of the coffee. It is indeed not bad. Strong and hot. Plus a bite of the sugar glazed donut. Fuck, what kind of filling is that? Slimy, white… The taste a bit like… Musk? You suppress the reflex to gag or spit. You rinse with a sip of coffee. Damn, maybe the filling is tasty after all. Christopher looks at you silently, grinning. On the third donut, you suck out the filling. You could get addicted to this stuff.

Fuck, Christopher is still sitting across from you, grinning. Wide-legged. The bulge in his shorts is indecently big. You can hardly take your eyes off it. He stands up and says that he will show you the washrooms next. And then how the donut filling is made.

Hehehe, you guessed it. Christopher makes an excellent filling for the donuts. You wonder if your friend can do it as well. Christopher asks if you would like to see your bunk now. You answer if the number in the washroom wasn't enough for him. He grins and moves forward, you follow and have trouble keeping up with his pace. Fuck, he is really incredibly fit. And his boots are of course simply better suited for the mud than your now completely dirty loafers. Shortly before the barracks, in which your bed stands, you slip in the mud. Christopher helps you up and tells you to get undressed on the verander. The two men who are taking a break there and jerking off don't look as if you should be embarrassed.

Christopher leads you into a wash lock and sprays you with a water hose. He throws you a towel. Your cock is hard as a rock. Christopher gets on his knees in front of you. And for the first time in your life a man gives you a blowjob. And with the load that you cum, two donuts could easily be filled.

Your bunk is simple and cozy. In the bed can easily have two or three men good hard sex. In your closet hang three sets of your work clothes. If you need more, there's a supply closet next to the shower rooms. You're all the same size anyway. Christopher gives you your duty roster. Tomorrow you are scheduled to chop down trees early. And as much as he'd like to spend the night with you, he has to go back to pouring concrete at the dam. It doesn't matter, you are tired anyway and fall naked into your bed.

05:00 in the morning. You don't need an alarm clock, you are a nature boy. Even behind the curtains you know when it's time to get up. A caravan sets out from the barracks in the direction of the cafeteria. If you work hard, you should have a good breakfast. Today you are assigned to the milking for the doughnut production. Some new workers are expected in the afternoon. They are to be welcomed.

And after that, it's finally time to get out into the fresh air and get to work. You love the camp. Lots of hard work for real men. And food, drink and sex. Just like an eternal bachelor party!

A picture of one of the lumberjacks found at @trefoilwombat