#a literal disaster 😊

[enbyman]

Need scileo queerplatonic forced cohabitation

I need to force those three to like each other AGAIN

I need blood, conflict and Theo cooking for two losers

[daeniradraconis]

omg i love your stories so much!!! you're such a great writer. i'm so glad i stumbled onto your fics somehow. can i please request prompt number 10 "i'm pretty low maintenance" with jack hughes?

Thank you so much for your kind words! 💖 I’m so happy you’re enjoying my stories! And thanks for the request! I hope you will love this as well! 😊✨ --- High Maintenance & Low Expectations

“I’m pretty low maintenance.”

Jack leans back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, looking very pleased with himself. He’s wearing a sweater that probably costs more than your rent, and his perfectly styled chestnut waves look like they were arranged by a professional hairstylist rather than just existing naturally. You, on the other hand, are elbow-deep in mashed potatoes, sweating like you’ve just run a marathon. 

The kitchen is a battlefield—flour dusted across the counter, butter slowly melting near the stove, and the unmistakable, sharp scent of something definitely overcooked lingering in the air.

Luke snorts from his spot at the island, where he’s lazily peeling a carrot. He’s managed to peel more of his own skin than the actual vegetable, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. The occasional "aww" and "oops" are the only clues that he’s once again being clumsy with the knife. "That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard," he mutters, barely looking up.

Jack gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “Excuse me? I’m the easiest person to live with.”

You burst out laughing, not even trying to hide it. You jab your wooden spoon in his direction. “Jack, you literally refused to eat a bagel last week because it wasn’t from your ‘preferred’ bakery.”

“Because it wasn’t real cream cheese! It was that weird, low-fat nonsense—”

Luke cuts in, his smirk widening. “Also, you order groceries like you’re a Michelin star chef, but can’t even make toast without setting off the smoke alarm.”

Jack lets out an exaggerated huff, shrugging his shoulders. "I just like quality ingredients," he says, a teasing grin on his face. "Sorry I have taste."

“Ohh, shut up!” you groan, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand as you turn toward the stove. The gravy is on the verge of boiling over. You lower the heat, hoping it’s not too late. The turkey’s still in the oven, but the stuffing smells like it’s burning. The mashed potatoes have lumps, and the cranberry sauce—oh god—is now all over the floor. How the hell did that happen?

Luke looks genuinely concerned. “Do you, uh, want help?”

You whip around so fast Jack actually takes a step back. “No. Absolutely not. I need to impress your mom and dad because it's Christmas, and if you two help, this entire meal will end in a flaming disaster.”

Jack blinks, insulted. “I resent that.”

“You once confused salt with sugar when making cookies,” you say, raising an eyebrow like this is a fact everyone should know by now.

Luke winces, his face going pale at the memory. “Oh yeah, that was bad. I could still taste it for days—even after brushing my teeth.” He shudders, as if the very idea still haunts him.

Jack pouts, arms folded defensively. “That was one time.”

“And,” you continue, pointing at Luke, “you somehow managed to burn a salad. A salad Luke!”

Luke goes bright red, practically sinking into the counter. “It was a pasta salad! And you promised you’d never tell anyone!”

Jack’s jaw drops in disbelief. Then a grin creeps across his face. “Dude, how do you even—?”

“Tough luck, Lukey,” you say with a smirk. “Some secrets just aren’t meant to stay buried.”You wave them off with a flick of your wrist. “Again, no help. I’ve got this. Just—just go be useless somewhere else.”

Jack smirks, leaning in to kiss your forehead, completely undeterred by the fact that you look like you just ran through a hurricane. “You’re so hot when you’re stressed.”

Luke makes an exaggerated gagging noise. “I’m leaving.”

Jack just grins, like he’s having the time of his life. “Love you, babe.”

You groan, shooing them both out of the kitchen with your spoon, praying to every holiday deity that Ellen and Jim will see the effort you put into this meal and not the absolute disaster it’s turning into.

—

Jim and Ellen finally say their goodbyes, wrapping things up with warm hugs and reassurances that everything was great—despite the cranberry sauce never making it to the table and the turkey being a little on the dry side. You exhale, sinking into a chair at the dining table, swirling your glass of wine, feeling relieved that the dinner is finally over.

Jack, however, has made it his personal mission to ensure you don’t lift a finger for cleanup. “You did everything,” he insists, “now it’s our turn.”

Big mistake.

Luke’s at the sink, sluggishly stacking plates, while Jack wipes down the counters like he's trying to scrub away the entire kitchen with one swipe. The clinking of dishes and the lingering smell of burnt stuffing fill the air.

“Luke, if you’re going to load the dishwasher like that, you might as well toss the plates in the garbage,” Jack says, his voice dripping with mock horror.

Luke rolls his eyes. “It’s not a big deal, dude. They’ll get clean. Chill out!”

Jack gasps, as though Luke has committed a cardinal sin. “You can’t put the knife facing up! That’s how people lose fingers.”

You take a sip of your wine, watching the chaos unfold like it's your own personal reality show. You loved Jack—really, you did—but you couldn’t deny that dealing with him required an extra dose of patience. And you knew Luke well enough to sense he was running low on that.

Luke sighs deeply, way too loudly, as he sets the plates down. Uh-oh. Here it comes. “You are so fucking high-maintenance, dude!”

Jack scoffs, his voice full of offense. “I am not! I just like things done right.” He drops the towel he’s been aggressively wiping the counters with.

Luke raises an eyebrow. “Jack, you rearranged the sponge at least three times.”

Jack crosses his arms, baffled by why his brother finds this so problematic. His genuinely confused expression makes it hard for you to keep a straight face. “It has a drying position and a scrubbing position,” he says, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Luke smirks, and you catch that mischievous glint in his eyes. Oh no. You’ve seen that look before. This is the calm before the storm. The smile just before all hell breaks loose.

And then, without warning, Luke flicks a few drops of water at Jack’s face, his grin spreading wider. “Oh, I understand,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I just don’t give a shit about it.”

Jack freezes, staring at him in disbelief. “Did you just—”

Luke, still grinning like a maniac, flicks more water at him. “Oops.”

Jack narrows his eyes, looking way too calm. “Oh, you are so dead, Lukey.”

Before Luke can react, Jack grabs the sprayer from the sink, aiming it at Luke with deadly precision. The stream hits Luke right in the face, and he yelps, ducking behind the island. “HEY! Did you just spray me with the cleaning stuff?!”

Jack laughs, clearly enjoying the chaos, but there's a brief moment where his brow furrows as he watches Luke’s reaction. Luke sticks his tongue out, squinting in disgust at the taste of the rosemary cleaner. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ugh, that’s disgusting!”

Jack quickly checks the bottle in his hand, his smirk flickering for a moment. “Don’t worry, it’s organic!” he says, his grin widening. “You can thank my high-maintenance nature, you little shit."

“You idiot didn’t even check what you sprayed me with! You just grabbed it!” Luke’s voice is rising with each word.

Jack shrugs, still grinning like he’s just won some kind of battle. “Should’ve thought about that before you disrespected the sponge system!” He winks, patting the sprayer like it’s his prized possession. “Now run!”

Luke, now fuming and ready for payback, spots another bottle on the counter. Without missing a beat, he snatches it up and sprays Jack with it. The organic cleaner hits him right in the chest. The two of them laugh maniacally, both dripping with rosemary-scented spray as they tumble around the kitchen, completely lost in the moment, like a couple of kids in a water fight.

You lean back in your chair, wine glass in hand, watching the chaos unfold. They’re so wrapped up in their little spray battle, you can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

“Careful, you’re going to slip on the water or…” you start to warn, but, of course, neither of them listens. No sooner do the words leave your mouth than one of them knocks over a stack of glasses on the counter, the sound of glass shattering echoing through the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, taking another long sip of your wine. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

Jack pauses, wiping water off his face, then turns to you with that mischievous grin. He’s soaked and sweaty, but it doesn’t seem to bother him at all. Slowly, he makes his way toward you, his eyes gleaming with playful confidence. “You love us,” he teases, pulling you close by the waist, before leaning down to kiss you.

You laugh, trying to pull away from the damp mess of him. “Jack! You’re gross! Let me go!”

But he’s persistent, kissing whatever he can reach—your lips, your cheeks, your forehead—his grin never fading. You giggle and squirm away, attempting to escape. But Jack’s not done yet. He grabs your arm to pull you closer, pushing his body against yours, his hips pressing into you.

“You’re not the girl who runs away from a little sweat, sweetheart,” he says between kisses, his voice teasing but affectionate. “I remember when—after practice—you licked…”

You press your hands against his lips, laughing in disbelief at his idiocy. Your face flushes instantly, the heat creeping up your neck. Of course, he just grins wider, that same stupid, adorable grin.

Jack pulls back slightly, his sparkling blue eyes locking with yours. As his hand gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, he brushes his thumb across your cheek. “I love that you do all the wild things with me in the bedroom without hesitation,” he says, his voice still low and tender. “But just mention the most vanilla thing we’ve done, and you turn into a blushing mess. You’re adorable.” His smile softens, his gaze deepening as he looks into your eyes.

Luke, standing off to the side trying to maintain some distance from the kitchen, turns around with a look of pure disgust. He glares at the two of you, arms crossed tightly across his chest. “Oh, no. Not this again. Can’t you two go five minutes without turning everything into a romance movie set?”

You and Jack just giggle, completely unfazed, while Luke dramatically turns his back to you both. “I swear, if I see one more kiss today, I’m going to lose it.”

Jack doesn’t even acknowledge his little brother’s complaint, leaning in for another kiss. And you don’t protest—not really. You’ve always been a sucker for his sweaty, silly kisses, even if Luke’s gagging in the background.

[urfavdreamcatcher]

hey cutie pie !! ive literally been obsessed with ur writing and re-reading ur george clarke fic 🤭. i was wondering if u could make a george clarke fic about reader being highschool sweethearts with him ( i dont know where id want it to go its completely up to you, ive just seen soso many photos of younger george in school and hes so cutesy and yum ) anyway bye bye xx

Sweetheart || George Clarke.

Part 1

Ur honestly so cute, I need to start re-reading my drafts and publishing them.. currently have inside ep 1,2 in my drafts rn😩 BUT THANK YOU CUTIE!! Hope you like this 😊

Summary: She’s the school’s star cheerleader, and he’s the cocky rugby player who drives her up the wall. They’ve been at each other’s throats for as long as they can remember petty arguments, competitive banter, stolen glances that last too long.

But when Charlie, one of George’s teammates, starts flirting a little too shamelessly, the rivalry between them shifts into something sharper, more personal. Because George hates it—hates the way Charlie talks about her, the way he looks at her.

And one day, he snaps.

George x reader, fem!reader , explicit language

There most definitely will be a part 2 to this!!

ENJOY!!

———————————————————————-

If there was one person in the entire school who could ruin my day in under five seconds, it was George Clarkey.

And unfortunately, he seemed to be everywhere.

“You’re glaring again,” my best friend, Liv, pointed out, nudging me with her elbow.

I tore my eyes away from the rugby pitch, where George was currently jogging back to his position, annoyingly smug even while covered in mud. His school rugby shirt was practically clinging to him, damp from the drizzle, and his curls were messy from where he kept ruffling them.

Not that I noticed. Obviously.

“I’m not glaring,” I said, flipping my ponytail over my shoulder. “I’m just… observing.”

Liv snorted. “Right. Observing how fit he looks?”

I turned to her, horrified. “Absolutely not. He’s—ugh insufferable. Cocky, irritating, never stops talking. Did I mention cocky?”

“Only about a hundred times.”

And, as if on cue, George spotted me from across the field. A slow smirk spread across his face, like he knew he was annoying me just by existing.

He jogged a bit closer and called out, loud enough for everyone to hear, “You here to support me, sweetheart?”

I clenched my jaw, ignoring the way my stomach flipped at that ridiculous nickname.

“Please,” I shot back, hands on my hips. “If I wanted to watch someone roll around in the mud, I’d get a dog.”

His teammates howled with laughter, clapping him on the back. But George? He just grinned, jogging backwards like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“You’re obsessed with me, admit it!”

“In your dreams, Clarkey!”

The thing about George was that he thrived on winding me up. Which meant I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that, no matter how annoying he was..he also made my heart race in a way that I hated.

George and I had been at each other’s throats since Year 9. It started when he made a very loud, very wrong comment about how cheerleading wasn’t a real sport. I may have responded by stealing his boots before a big match. He retaliated by swapping my water bottle with vinegar during training.

From there, it spiralled. Pranks, insults, who can annoy the other the most. It was our thing.

So when we walked into history the next day and the teacher started reading out partner assignments for our coursework, I wasn’t worried. There was no way she’d put me with George. She knew we were a disaster waiting to happen.

But then—

“George Clarkey and [ ].”

The entire room went silent.

Someone actually gasped.

I blinked. “You’re joking.”

George, sitting two seats away, let out a low whistle. “Ooh. That’s unfortunate for you, sweetheart.”

The teacher ignored both of us. “You’ll be working together on this project for the next few weeks, so I suggest you figure out a way to get along.”

I turned to George, who was already watching me with that bloody smirk. “You better actually do work,” I muttered as I slid into the seat next to him.

He leaned in slightly, voice low enough that only I could hear. “What, scared to spend time with me?”

My breath hitched annoyingly but I masked it with an unimpressed look. “Scared you’ll get shown up by me, more like.”

His grin deepened, all challenge and amusement. “This is gonna be fun.”

I had a horrible feeling he was right.

———————————————————————

I hated being partnered with George. I really did.

But if there was one small silver lining to this absolute disaster of a situation, it was that his best mate, Charlie, was actually a decent person.

Charlie was in my maths class, and we’d always gotten along well enough. Unlike George, he wasn’t constantly winding me up or trying to make my life miserable. And, unlike George, he didn’t seem to think cheerleading was a joke.

“You’re well unlucky,” Charlie said with a sympathetic smile as we walked out of class together. “Being stuck with Clarkey, I mean. Absolute nightmare, that one.”

I snorted. “Tell me about it.”

He grinned. “If you need someone to rant to, I’m happy to volunteer.”

And then, before I could even respond, George appeared out of nowhere, stepping right between us like some sort of human barricade.

“Alright, mate?” George clapped Charlie on the back a bit too hard. “Didn’t know you were trying to steal my project partner.”

Charlie laughed, glancing at me. “She’s your problem now, not mine.”

George turned to me, eyebrows raised. “That true, sweetheart? You going round complaining about me already?”

I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t have to. Everyone already knows you’re unbearable.”

He smirked. “And yet, here you are, walking with my mate. What, trying to get closer to me through him?”

Charlie shot him a look. “Don’t be a nob, Clarkey.”

George laughed like he wasn’t being completely insufferable, but something flickered in his expression something I couldn’t quite place.

I ignored it. Instead, I turned to Charlie and smiled. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

His face lit up in a way that made something twist in my stomach.

I wasn’t oblivious I’d noticed the way Charlie looked at me lately. The way he found excuses to talk to me, to sit next to me in class. And, if I was honest, I liked the attention.

It wasn’t like that but it was nice. Unlike George, who lived to annoy me, Charlie was easy to talk to.

Apparently, George hated that.

Because as soon as Charlie walked off, he let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his damp curls. “Fucking hell. If I have to watch him flirt with you for the next few weeks, I might actually lose my mind.”

I crossed my arms, tilting my head. “What’s your problem?”

He scoffed. “Charlie never shuts up about you. It’s pathetic.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you can flirt with half the school, but the second someone likes me, it’s a problem?”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t flirt with everyone.”

I let out a humourless laugh. “Right. You just call everyone ‘sweetheart’ and wink at anything that moves.”

George’s smirk twitched slightly, but there was something else behind it now, something a little more serious.

“You jealous, love?” His voice was lower now, teasing, but not in his usual careless way.

I stared at him. “Of what?”

He stepped closer. Not enough to be obvious, not enough to draw attention, but enough. Enough that I caught the scent of his aftershave, enough that my pulse betrayed me completely.

“Of them,” he murmured. “The girls I flirt with.”

I refused to let him get to me. Refused to let him know that my brain was currently short circuiting from the way he was looking at me.

So I forced a smirk, tilting my head up defiantly. “Not even a little bit.”

Lie. Massive, massive lie.

But George just hummed, stepping back with a knowing glint in his eyes. “If you say so, sweetheart.”

And then he was walking off, leaving me standing there, heart hammering, absolutely furious that he could still get under my skin like that.

But come to think of it, I wasn’t encouraging Charlie. Not really.

But I also wasn’t stopping him.

Because, if nothing else, watching George Clarkey’s jaw clench every time Charlie spoke to me was quickly becoming one of my new favourite things.

“Here, let me carry that for you,” Charlie offered, reaching for my books as we walked out of the library.

I raised an eyebrow. “I can carry my own books, you know.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I’m trying to be chivalrous.”

I rolled my eyes but let him take them anyway. “What a gentleman.”

Charlie was easy to be around. He was funny, charming, and unlike George he didn’t actively make it his mission to wind me up constantly.

Which is exactly why I shouldn’t have been even remotely surprised when George appeared out of nowhere, stepping directly between us like a human roadblock.

“Oi, Charlie,” he said, completely ignoring me. “Didn’t know you’d started a new career as a personal assistant.”

Charlie let out a short laugh. “It’s called being nice, Clarkey. You should try it sometime.”

George’s gaze snapped to me, sharp and unreadable. “Think she can manage carrying her own books, though.”

Charlie shrugged. “Yeah, but I offered.”

George let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck like he was physically restraining himself from saying something stupid. Which was rare for him, considering he never shut up.

“Whatever,” he muttered, finally turning to me. “You ready for this project thing or what?”

I gave him a look. “You mean the thing you were ten minutes late for?”

He smirked. “Took my time. Knew you’d still be here flirting with Charlie, anyway.”

I scoffed, ignoring the way my face betrayed me completely by heating up. “I was not—”

“Anyway,” Charlie cut in, clearing his throat. He handed my books back, giving me a quick smile. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah, see you.”

The second he was gone, George let out a short, irritated breath.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath. “You really like entertaining him, don’t you?”

I turned to him, crossing my arms. “And what exactly is your problem with that?”

He scoffed. “No problem.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Right. That’s why you keep glaring at him like he’s personally offended you.”

George rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s just—” He paused, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

But now I was curious. I stepped forward, tilting my head. “He’s just what?”

George exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath before meeting my gaze again. “He’s a mate, alright? And I know for a fact that if he actually asked you out, it wouldn’t just be some little flirt for him.”

I frowned. “And what if he did ask me out?”

George went completely still.

I almost laughed at the look on his face like the thought had genuinely never occurred to him before. Like he hadn’t actually considered the possibility that I might actually say yes.

Then his jaw tensed.

“You wouldn’t,” he said simply.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

George met my gaze, something unreadable flickering behind his usual cocky, irritating expression.

Then he smirked, leaning in slightly just enough to make my breath hitch.

“Because,” he murmured, “you’d get bored of him in about a week.”

My stomach flipped. Stupid. So stupid.

I straightened my shoulders, forcing a scoff. “And you think I wouldn’t get bored of you?”

George’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said smoothly. “You’d never get bored of me.”

My heart was pounding now, and I hated him for it. Hated the way he could do this push my buttons, wind me up, and still make my stomach do stupid, ridiculous flips all at once.

So I forced a smile. A sweet, fake, infuriatingly polite smile.

“Watch me.”

Then I turned and walked off, knowing full well that George Clarkey was still watching me the entire way.

And, if I wasn’t completely losing my mind, I think I just made things even worse.

——————————————————————

At first, it was just light teasing compliments here, cheeky comments there. And I didn’t mind it. In fact, I enjoyed it. Not because I fancied him, but because of the way George absolutely lost his mind every time Charlie so much as looked at me.

But lately, it had shifted.

Charlie had started getting… bolder. The lingering touches, the low murmurs when no one else was listening. And while I’d brushed it off at first, something about it felt off.

I just hadn’t realised how off until I overheard exactly what he was saying about me.

The changing room was loud with the usual post-training banter—laughter, the sound of boots being tossed aside, the occasional thud of someone slamming a locker shut. Charlie was in the middle of a story, half-dressed, stretching out his sore muscles.

Then her name came up.

A few heads turned, but no one stopped him. Charlie had been talking about her a lot lately—more than usual. Flirting with her in the corridors, finding excuses to be around her. But today, there was a different edge to his words.

A low chuckle. “Mate, I swear, the things I’d do to her…”

George stilled.

“Bet she’s a little tease in private, all attitude in public but proper desperate behind closed doors.”

Someone snorted. Someone else muttered, “Behave, mate.” But no one stopped him.

“I’d have her screaming my name by the end of the night.”

The sound of boots hitting the floor, a sharp inhale—then a sudden, violent slam.

Charlie’s back hit the lockers with a heavy thud.

The room went silent.

George stood in front of him, fists clenched, jaw tight, eyes burning with something dangerous.

“Shut your f**king mouth, Charlie.”

A stunned pause. Then, Charlie let out a short, breathless laugh. “The f**k, Clarkey?”

George didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “Say that again. I f**king dare you.”

Charlie’s smirk flickered, like he couldn’t decide whether to be pissed off or amused. “Oh, come on. It’s just banter.”

“Banter?” The word came out slow, sharp.

Charlie scoffed. “Don’t tell me you care. It’s not like she’s yours.”

The tension in the room snapped, thick enough to choke on.

Every muscle in George’s body was drawn tight, like he was barely holding himself back. A challenge hung in the air, unspoken but blistering.

Then, movement in the doorway.

Her voice.

“George?”

Everything stopped.

Heads turned. A few of the boys suddenly found something very interesting about their boots.

She stood in the entrance, eyes locked on George, gaze flicking between him and Charlie. Something shifted in her expression—realisation, understanding.

And then, without a word, she walked past Charlie like he wasn’t even there.

Straight to George.

Fingers wrapped around his wrist. A small but deliberate touch.

No one spoke.

Charlie let out a breath, muttering something under his breath, but no one laughed this time.

A moment passed.

Then she tugged George towards the door, and he let her.

The second they were gone, the silence broke.

“Mate, what the f**k was that?” someone muttered.

No one had an answer. But everyone knew. Something had just changed.

The walk from the changing room was silent.

She hadn’t let go of his wrist. Not until they were outside, away from the laughter, the echo of boots against the floor, the lingering weight of what just happened.

When she finally did, George exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp curls. His whole body was still wired with anger, every muscle tense.

She watched him carefully, arms crossed. “What the hell was that?”

George let out a sharp, humourless laugh, looking away. “You heard what that dickhead was saying.”

“Yeah, I did,” she shot back. “But why do you care so much?”

That question hit him like a punch to the gut.

His jaw clenched. “Are you fucking serious?”

She stepped closer, voice low. “Yes, George. I’m serious. You’ve been acting like a complete lunatic every time Charlie so much as looks at me. And now you’re starting fights in the changing room? What is your problem?”

George scoffed, shaking his head. “My problem? My problem is that he talks about you like you’re some fucking thing to win.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t look away.

George huffed out another breath, stepping back. “Forget it. You clearly don’t care.”

A beat of silence. Then..

“You think I don’t care?”

Her voice was quiet, but something in it made him pause.

He turned back, and—fuck

She wasn’t just angry. She was hurt.

Something twisted in his chest, hard and sudden.

She shook her head, looking at him like she was finally seeing it. “You don’t get to stand there and act like you’re the only one who’s pissed off, George. You think I liked hearing him say that? You think I liked knowing you were about to..” She stopped herself, inhaling sharply. “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

George let out a slow breath, dragging a hand over his face. “I wasn’t—” He stopped. Swallowed. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No shit,” she muttered.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

A gust of wind blew past, the only sound between them. The usual noise of the school a distant shout from the pitch, the sound of doors slamming felt muffled, like they were in their own space, locked in this moment neither of them knew how to get out of.

George exhaled. “Look.” His voice came out quieter than before, rough around the edges. “I just” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

She hated when he did that started a sentence, then shut it down like it didn’t matter.

So she stepped forward, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Say it.”

His jaw ticked. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Say it, George.”

And that was it. That was the breaking point.

Because before he could stop himself, the words spilled out, raw and reckless

“Of course it fucking matters!”

Her breath caught.

George shoved a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I hate it. I hate watching him flirt with you. I hate the way he talks about you. I hate” He stopped, shaking his head. “I hate that you don’t fucking see it.”

Silence.

Her voice was barely a whisper. “See what?”

George let out a harsh laugh, bitter and frustrated, because seriously?

He stepped closer. Not like before not teasing, not playful. This was something different. Something that made the air between them feel thick, heavy, electric.

“Jesus Christ.” His voice was lower now, rough. “You, sweetheart. You think I’ve been acting like this for fun? You think I don’t care?” His breath was uneven, and he hated it. Hated that she could do this to him. “I care too fucking much, and it’s ruining me.”

The words hung there, unshakable.

She didn’t move. Didn’t say a word.

Then slowly, carefully she reached for his wrist.

Soft, hesitant.

And George who was always so loud, so sure, so quick with a comeback went completely, utterly still.

Something in his chest tightened.

Her fingers curled slightly, just enough to keep him there. Not pulling, not pushing. Just holding on.

And George?

George let her.

Because he was done fighting it.

The weight of George’s words still hung in the air, thick and impossible to ignore.

“I care too fucking much, and it’s ruining me.”

She hadn’t moved. Hadn’t spoken. Just stood there, fingers still wrapped around his wrist soft, hesitant, deliberate.

George didn’t breathe. Didn’t dare.

Because if he did, if he let himself feel this properly, he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop.

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and it was too much the way her gaze softened, the way she was holding onto him like she finally understood.

“George,” she said, voice quieter now, like the fight had drained out of her.

And it wrecked him.

Because he’d spent so long pretending acting like none of this mattered, like she wasn’t under his skin in ways that no one else had ever been.

But now?

Now she was so close.

And he couldn’t pretend anymore.

His free hand lifted without thinking, fingers brushing against her jaw, tentative, testing giving her a chance to pull away.

She didn’t.

If anything, she leaned into it.

Something inside him snapped.

Before either of them could talk themselves out of it, he tilted his head and closed the space between them, pressing his lips against hers.

Soft at first hesitant, searching but then she made a small, breathless sound against his mouth, and it sent something crashing through him.

His hands moved, gripping her waist, pulling her closer, like he was making up for every second he’d wasted pushing her away.

She kissed him back like she’d been waiting for this just as long, fingers twisting in his hoodie, holding him there, like she needed this too.

And God, he was gone for her. Completely, helplessly gone.

When they finally pulled apart, their breathing was uneven, faces still close.

Her fingers were still curled into his hoodie. His hands were still on her waist.

And George who had always been so cocky, so sure of himself could barely get his voice to work.

“Sweetheart…” His forehead rested against hers, voice rough, breathless. “Tell me I haven’t just completely fucked this up.”

A small, mischievous smile tugged at her lips.

“You think I’d kiss you like that if you had?”

George huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, thumb tracing absent circles on her hip.

“You’re a tease,” he murmured.

She grinned. “And you love it.”

He did.

And for once, he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

[tangylemonade]

Friends w/ Benefits 

Jeonghan x afab reader  18+ MINORS DNI (istg 🫵🏾 ಠ_ಠ if I catch you)

Literally just wrote this lol and it's not actually proofread (I looked over it once). Maybe 1k I need to go to bed but I wanted to write so here I am (btw thank you anon for the suggestion 😊) It's basically just smut with dialog and a bit of angst I guess

The buzz of your doorbell was unexpected but not surprising. You knew Jeonghan had gotten off of work around this time and on particularly stressful days he seemed to find himself at your door holding a bottle of wine waiting for you to open up.

“And he's back...” you said jokingly, as you opened the door and turned back into your kitchen.

“Treat me kindly, I bear gifts.” he retorted as he kicked off his shoes and shut the door.

“I was just about to eat dinner. You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

Jeonghan followed you into the kitchen, opening the cabinet right away and taking out the wine glasses.

“Mhhhh…that smells good.” he dipped his finger into the sauce you were simmering and popped it into his mouth. “Needs a tad more salt.”

“Gross.” you said swatting him away but still adding a pinch of salt and stirring the dinner that was always far too much for only you.

You served you both and sat down at the table.

“Ohh, I see you've brought out your finest China madam.” Jeonghan said as he picked up the plastic spoon you placed next to his paper plate.

“Fuck off. Are you gonna wash the dishes?”

All he did was laugh his little gremlin laugh and take a bite.

“This is delicious. I'm glad I came at the last minute and saved your dinner from disaster.”

“I think you're dehydrated darling; this is a bit too salty.”

“It tastes perfect to me.” He said with a shrug. “This wine tastes like shit though.”

“There really is no better pairing.” you said with a laugh.

“Agreed.”

Once dinner was done you put the pots in your refrigerator and threw out the dishes.

“And clean.” you said flopping down on the couch and putting your feet on Jeonghan’s lap.

“I'm gonna go shower. Wanna join me?” Jeonghan asked as he stretched and got up.

You nodded and followed him into the bathroom ripping off your clothes and tossing them in your hamper. Jeonghan followed suit, except he purposely ignored the hamper step, and turned on the shower, hopping in right away.

“Seriously? The hamper is right there.”

You rolled your eyes and put his things in your hamper which now had just as many of his clothes as yours.

“Jeonghan, you're gonna have to start paying some of my water bill if you keep this up.”

You stepped into the shower to find him slowly stroking his erection as the hot water ran through his long hair.

“Good god you couldn't wait.”

“You were taking so long.”

“Picking up your clothes.”

“Whatever. Get over here.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him under the water. Your soft lips bounced into his as his hands ran along your ass and thighs. Running your hands through his hair you grabbed a handful and tugged, pulling a moan from his hungry lips. Dropping your hands down to his cock you stroked him adding a little squeeze just to feel the falter in his kisses along your neck.

“You’re really sensitive today.”

“Long day.” Jeonghan said before pushing you up against the shower wall.

His fingers found your clit and he returned that favor with a pinch that had you almost slip.

“Wait.” you said breathlessly as you stopped his hand. “Sit down, I wanna ride you.”

Jeonghan happily complied as he sat back in the tub of the shower and looked up at your body.

He could stare at you like that forever. 

In the dim light of the bathroom your body looked heavenly as the water patted on your skin. 

You lowered yourself onto him, your pussy lips laying on his throbbing cock and making it twitch in frustration. Looking down into his eyes you drove him crazy as you sinfully moved your hips and dragged your wet pussy up and down his shaft. Jeonghan’s hands traveled up and down your body as he squeezed at your breast, his thumb and index playing and squeezing your nipple.

“Fuck.” Jeonghan breathed out as your heat continued to glide against him. “Let me fill you baby.”

You lifted your hips as he reached down and guided himself into you, your walls naturally sucking him in with greed.

Jeonghan's hands that once again sought purchase on your breast were met with yours as you pinned them above his head and leaned in to capture his lips. Nipping and sucking you marveled at the quickness in which Jeonghan’s fair skin began to show signs of your obsession.

Greedily you rocked your hips, your moans syncing with his and bouncing loudly off the bathroom walls.

“So good....” you moaned.

Your eyes fluttered open and closed as you anchored yourself against Jeonghan’s chest and picked up your pace.

But Jeonghan's eyes watched you. He watched your body move with sensual fluidity as you pulled more pleasure out of him than anyone else ever could. He watched your flushed face through the steam of the shower as your eyebrows crinkled in pleasure. He swallowed every one of your kisses as you languidly laid them against his open mouth.

The shower water patterned off of your hot bodies as they rocked together chasing the high of the moment.

Jeonghan took in your every quirk and your every expression as the feeling of you and watching your pleasure drove him over the edge. You were already pulsing in hot waves around him and that was all he needed. 

Jeonghan held you close as he thrusted into you a few more times before his own orgasm shot from him in fiery pleasure. He leaned back and looked up at you once again as you dazedly looked up at the ceiling and caught your breath. 

The water and sweat trickled down your neck to your collarbone, along your soft mounds, and off your nipples onto Jeonghan’s body as he drank in your afterglow.

Too soon you rose from off of him chuckling at Jeonghan as he continued to lay down in the tub. Your and his juices were still dripping down your thigh and glistening on his cock. 

Jeonghan still made no effort to move so you put on a little show for him in sensual jest-fullness as you sudsed up and washed off, his eyes unwaveringly watching you. Laughing you stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around your body.

“Seriously Jeonghan, I'm gonna send you my water bill this month. Don't stay in there too long.”

With that you were out of the bathroom shutting the door behind you. Jeonghan let out a breath before rising tiredly from the tub. He felt that way after every fuck. Beyond please and very exhausted in so many ways. 

He finished showering before drying off and getting dressed

Jeonghan walked into your room, your his towel over his head as he shook it around to dry his hair.

“Move over.”

“Jeonghan… you know how I feel about cuddling.”

He threw his wet towel at you and rolled his eyes. “Who wants to cuddle with you?”

You tossed the towel back at him before rolling over and giving him some room.

You laid there in his shirt, so soft and warm as you drew your favorite cold and distancing line.

“Whatever dude, just stay on your side.”

He had a side in your bed that he'd lose the moment he crossed. Jeonghan shook his head at the absurdity before flopping down next to you and slipping under the covers, pulling more towards him.

Jeonghan smiled as he felt your foot on his back, kicking against him and pulling your covers back.

“Nice try buddy but you forget who's boss.”

“Well, it was worth a shot.” Jeonghan said before releasing the extra blanket that he didn't even need.

How could he forget who was boss when everything here followed your terms of engagement. But then again, Jeonghan agreed so who was he to complain?

“Listen Jeonghan.” you said after the first night something like this had happened. “You'll always be my best friend but we're adults so that doesn't mean we can't enjoy each other in uh… more ways if we want.”

Jeonghan agreed without a second thought.

“Friends,” he said with a smile. 

“With benefits?” 

Jeonghan shook the hand you were holding out to him. 

At the time it seemed like an excellent idea to him who only wanted to feel your body wrapped around him once more. Anything to have a part of you who was still too broken to give anything whole.

But now that his side of your bed was so cold he wasn't so sure anymore. 

He laid watching your back as your shoulder peacefully rose and fell.

“Friends.” he whispers to himself before rolling over.

MY MASTERLIST

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

husband!Steve Harrington x housewife!reader

| When you fumble the home-cooked meal you attempted to bake for Steve, he doesn’t mind at all. In fact, the meal he really wanted was already waiting at home for him, all along… |

| And yes, I know the pic is from Marmalade and not Stranger Things, but it’s how Steve looked in my brain when I wrote this, so bite me 😊 |

The rain coming down over Hawkins was relentless. Heavy gray clouds obscured any chance of sunlight breaking through and warming the chilly April evening. A blanket of fog crept along the streets of downtown, slipping between houses and through windows left partially open.

One of those windows belonged to the house you shared with Steve. The chicken casserole you’d attempted to bake had ended in disaster, having literally ‘gone up in smoke.’ You wanted to surprise Steve with a home-cooked meal when he got home from work, because you felt a little guilty always ordering take out. You wanted to take care of Steve, to be the wife you knew he ‘deserved.’ Naturally, Steve already thought you were perfect just as you were, and told you as much, frequently. Still, doubt nagged at the back of your brain, and you wanted to make sure that Steve understood how proud you were to be his, that you wanted to be his perfect little housewife…

In spite of the chilly air that evening, you were forced to open the kitchen window. The rain smelled so sweet in contrast with the acrid scent of smoke filling the kitchen. The sound of Steve’s car pulling into the driveway caught your attention. You made your way to the front door, waving a dish towel as you walked, fanning away the last of the smoke. Steve’s keys made a jingling sound in the door; your heart skipped knowing he was right on the other side of it…

As soon as you saw Steve’s face, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. His eyebrows lifted in surprise when he noticed the smell of smoke in the house. “Did you uh-.” Steve chose his next words carefully. “-Light a candle, baby?”

You bit your bottom lip, an apologetic look on your face. “I wish that was the reason it smells so bad in here,” you replied. “But actually, I-.” You sighed. “I tried to make dinner, for a change. And it kind of exploded in the oven…”

Steve nodded, glancing behind you at the kitchen. He silently observed the aftermath of your work. Every utensil and baking dish you owned had seemingly been taken from the cabinets, considered, and then rejected to the counter. “It’s okay, baby,” Steve assured you, putting his arms around you. “We can order take out; it’s not a problem.”

You tried to let your anxieties fade, melting into the familiar comfort of Steve’s embrace. Holding your ear to his chest, you listened to his heartbeat, soothed by its steady rhythm, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“What sounds good?” Steve asked, placing a kiss in your hair. “Anything you want, and-.”

“I’m actually not really hungry anymore,” you said, your eyes cast downward. “I kind of lost my appetite, with all the smoke.” You chuckled a little, in spite of your disappointment. The bitter smell of smoke and burnt casserole still lingered in the air, but only a little. Not enough that it distracted Steve from how pretty you looked, your forehead lightly dotted with sweat, your hair disheveled and some stains on your pajama shirt from the mess you’d made while baking.

Steve’s eyes swept over you, a combined feeling of love and lust washing over him. That combination of feelings was exactly the reason Steve had fallen so hard for you, why he’d loved you more every day since, and why he’d eventually asked you to marry him.

He knew you were frustrated about the dinner mishap. Steve was a very intuitive husband, and always seemed to know what you needed even before you did yourself.

“Just order something for you this time, okay?” You gave Steve a quick kiss on the end of his nose.

“Well actually,” he replied. “There is something that I’ve really been craving.” He smiled. “Been thinking about it all day, actually…”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Okay,” you giggled. “Well then you absolutely need to eat it.”

Steve nodded, his tongue sweeping lightly over his lips. “Oh, I’m going to eat it,” he replied, his tone a shade darker. “But I don’t have to order out for it. What I want is already here.” A corner of Steve’s mouth curved upward in a suggestive grin. “At home...”

Oblivious to Steve’s meaning, you peered behind him at the burnt abomination casserole sitting on the kitchen counter. “Well I hope it’s not chicken casserole you’re craving,” you replied. “Because that thing I made is definitely not fit for human cons-.”

Steve cut your sentence short by tugging you closer, so your faces were less than an inch from one another. He softly pressed his lips to yours in a closed kiss. It was chaste, romantic, sweet; but laced with darker implications that had your pulse racing.

“I want you, baby,” Steve murmured, easing his body against yours. “You’re the sweetest meal a man could ever ask to come home to…”

You felt a little dizzy, and it certainly wasn’t because you’d missed dinner. Everything about Steve made you weak…but the way he could have your pussy dripping using words alone made you fall the hardest…

“Let me eat you,” Steve said tenderly, respectfully, as if he didn’t already have your absolute permission. “Please?”

You swallowed, steadying yourself, suddenly feeling very light on your feet, as if you could be swept away by the slightest breeze. “Mm-hmm,” you replied through closed lips, then spoke out loud “yes. Yes, please, Steve…”

His smile was exchanged for a look of something carnal, and it would probably have seemed predatory in any other context. But once Steve had your permission, he was completely absorbed in his pursuit of having you.

Your ass was on the couch within seconds, Steve kneeling at the floor between your legs. He kissed your knees, your thighs, working upward till he was nibbling at the waistband of your pajamas. Steve let his right hand drape lazily against his crotch, occasionally palming his erection through his pants.

His lips pressed soft and warm against your belly. Steve spread a trail of gentle kisses down your stomach, lingering above the waistband of your pajama pants. His pretty hazel eyes flicked up to meet yours briefly before he hooked a fingertip beneath the pajamas, and lightly tugged them down.

You shivered at the feeling of air on your newly-exposed skin, but Steve’s tongue warmed you up immediately. He licked soft, wispy stripes beside your clit, intentionally neglecting it, letting the pressure at your center build…sucking one of your lips between his, then releasing it with a wet pop. Your fingers went to Steve’s hair, threading his caramel strands. He dipped his nose between your labia, bumping his bridge against your clit, penetrating you gently with his tongue. Your back arched, pressing your cunt forward, burying Steve’s face even deeper between your thighs.

He groaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his mouth stimulating the inside and outside of your cunt, plumping your lips even fuller. The sound of Steve’s tongue pumping inside you squelched beautifully, combined with the delicate, breathy sounds you were making. He nuzzled even deeper between your thighs, the tip of his nose gliding between your pouty lips.

Steve seamlessly replaced his tongue inside you with two of his fingers, making you gasp at the new, firmer penetration. His tongue washed over your clit, bathing your cunt in a mix of his saliva and your cum. You could feel yourself getting close, but what you really wanted was to finish together with Steve inside you. Your hand left his hair for his shoulder, patting to get his attention as you breathlessly told him “Steve, Steve, need you, in-.” And before you could finish your request, Steve had already lifted your ass off the couch, pulling you down to meet the bulge straining at the front of his pants.

He fumbled slightly at getting his belt and pants undone, because he was in such a hurry. You reached for his cock and rubbed the outline of it, feeling it pulse under your touch. As soon as Steve’s dick was in reach of your mouth, you tugged him between your lips. With a hard suck, you took him all the way to the back of your throat in one gulp. Steve’s knees went shaky, his breath punched out of his lungs at the shock of hitting the back of your throat so unexpectedly, so quickly. Your gag reflex activated and you popped off Steve’s cock, a raw trail burning all the way up your throat. You laid back on the couch and spread your legs, eyes trained on Steve’s, a seductive grin turning your lips.

He shook his head, your slick dripping from his chin. “No,” Steve said, reaching for your hair and gently guiding your mouth back onto his cock. “Need more of that tight little throat-can’t suck me like that n’just take it back-.” Steve eased himself down the length of your throat, nudging the back with his tip. A low growl of pleasure rumbled from Steve’s chest, his fingers threading your hair. “God, just like that…keep sucking…FUCK-!”

Steve hurriedly pulled your lips off his cock and pushed your back against the sofa, mounting and entering you as quickly as he could. Your hands clutched Steve’s shoulders, holding on tight as he humped you like a desperate animal, punching his cock so deep inside you that his shaft was rubbing your cervix. When Steve came, he choked back a dry sob, his breath heating the skin at the base of your neck as he panted through his release. Sweat dripped from the ends of Steve’s hair and onto your chest as he carefully lifted himself off of you. He fell back onto the couch beside you, pulling a hand over his disheveled hair, his pants around his muscular thighs. You laid your head on Steve’s shoulder, tilting your face to gaze at him.

He noticed you staring, and smiled. “Now that was a home-cooked meal,” Steve said, attempting to catch his breath. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. You fell asleep on the couch, drifting away while listening to the sound of rain thrumming against the roof, and the muffled rhythm of Steve’s heartbeat…

[sansaorgana]

omg I literally came across your work today and it was so awesome!!!! I was wondering if you’d be comfortable writing a more dominant buck cleven with his young wife and then another one which is buck cleven meeting a young girl and their love story with the the war timeline super cute fluff.

Of course it us up to you if you want to do it. But i just wanted to say how mych i love your work and i look forward to seeing more!! ❤️😊❤️😊❤️😊

hey, love! 💐 so, I googled Buck's age and apparently he was quite young during the war. because of Austin, I thought that he was like in his 30s. but apparently he was born in 1918, so he was only like 25 in 1943. and I'm not very comfy with writing readers who are "barely legal" in age gap relationships, so I didn't focus much on reader's age here. I mean, even if she's his age, then she's still a young girl 😂

this fic takes place after the war and they are married. Buck works at some military base idk it's not really mentioned nor important lol. he's rougher here than in the previous one but not very rough either because I think he's overall a softie for his girl 🤭 Buck and reader are in a traditional marriage 🥧

when it comes to the second idea with the war timeline, it's like a multichapter fic idea and I am not in the right headspace to write something so long at the moment. I am sorry, boo 🥺

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

Being married to Buck Cleven was a dream come true and you just wanted to make everything right. You would wake up an hour before him to put your make up on, get dressed in a cute dress and an apron, to take out the curlers out of your hair. And to prepare him a warm breakfast that would be ready when he is awake. You were helping Buck to get ready for work and then you would go grocery shopping. Then you would clean the house and cook dinner. In the meantime the dog your husband had brought from the war – Meatball – required some of your attention as well. He had to be fed and wanted to go out on a long walk once a day. He was a Husky so running around the garden was not enough for him.

It wasn't as easy to be a housewife as some women pictured it. It wasn't as peaceful and calm and relaxing. But it was worth everything. Your husband's smile and kisses on the cheek. You just wanted to make him happy. It was like you were infected with the affection because making him happy was everything that mattered. You never wanted him to complain or start looking for fun outside the house. You wanted to be his everything as much as he was yours.

And today you decided to bake him a pie. It was Friday and he had a long and stressful week. You wanted to make him a sweet and sour cherry pie to show him how much you loved and appreciated him. But everything seemed to go wrong with it. You were slow on that day and your first try was a disaster. You had to throw it away and start all over again, angry at yourself. Your cheeks and nose were stained with flour and your hands were red from the cherries' juice. You were so frustrated, you didn't notice what time it had already been.

You were so focused on kneading the dough that you didn't hear the sound of the car parking outside. Perhaps you did but you thought it was the neighbor. There was no reason why your husband would be home so early, right?

It wasn't early at all, though. It was exactly the same time when Buck would come back home every day. And he was surprised not to see you standing behind the window and waiting for him with a soft smile. It made him worry a little.

And then he walked inside the house and didn't see you in the corridor to take his jacket and give him a kiss. That was more than unusual indeed. He looked around and sighed before taking the jacket off on his own and hanging it on the wall. It didn't feel the same without your soft fingers helping him and your sweet lips asking him about his day. He missed your eyes sparkling at the sight of him, your loving smile, your lovely scent. Your warm lips on his cheek, staining it slightly with a cherry red lipstick. God, he was crazy about you.

"Baby?" he asked in a soft voice. The very first place he checked was the kitchen and there you were, working passionately on something on the counter in front of you. He was facing your back so he had no idea what it could be. "Baby?" he asked once again and you jumped a little at the sound.

Your heart pounded in your chest. You got scared by your husband's voice but you also were scared that he was back so soon. You took a quick glance at the clock on the wall and swallowed thickly. Yes, it made perfect sense that he was home already. And you didn't have the pie ready yet.

Hell, you didn't even have the dinner ready at all!

"Oh, Buck!" you sobbed and turned around. He furrowed his brows at that sudden outburst and your face stained with flour. Then he noticed your red hands.

"Is everything alright, sweetheart?" he hurried to your side and grabbed your wrists. "What's going on? Is that blood?"

"Hm? What? No, no," you sniffed. "It's cherries," you explained and he sighed with relief. "I wanted to make you a cherry pie. But I'm slow today and I ruined the first one. I wanted to make it again, I lost the track of time… I didn't prepare dinner either… Oh goodness, I am the worst wife ever. You must regret marrying me. I'm so sorry," you sobbed again and looked down, avoiding his gaze.

Buck was left speechless at this little scene. He had no idea you felt this way.

"What are you talking about, doll?" he asked carefully and tried to wipe the flour away from your cheeks but he only smudged it in the process. You looked adorable like that to him, though. He only wished you didn't cry. It was making him feel physical pain deep in his chest to see you sad like this. You were his girl and his job was to make you happy. "You're the best wife I could ever wish for. Every day I ask myself how the hell did I get so lucky."

"R-really?" you bit on your lower lip and looked up at him with wet eyes. "I'm a mess."

"We all make a mess sometimes," Buck shushed you and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon your lips. "And no one makes a prettier mess than you do, darling," he added with a smirk.

In one swift motion he lifted you up and turned around to sit you up on the empty counter. You were surprised that he rewarded your failure with a kiss but you couldn't complain. You crossed your legs behind him and put your fingers in his golden hair. You let out a sweet moan into his mouth and felt your cheeks heating up.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, ashamed of yourself. You didn't want your husband to think you were dirty or easy like any harlot.

"Oh God, what are you sorry for?" Buck seemed to be excited, though. He leaned in even closer and placed another kiss upon your lips, more heated this time. His hair was a mess now from all your tugging, his locks were falling on his forehead and tickling your face. "You have absolutely no idea how crazy you make me, baby," he whispered between one passionte kiss and another.

His big hands dropped from your waist to tug on the hems of your dress and apron. He lifted them up as much as he could as his fingers started to roam all over your stockings and the naked skin of your thighs where the straps of your stockings were. You wanted him to touch you between your legs so badly but you didn't want to say it out loud.

"You have to ask for it, baby," he teased, knowing your desires perfectly well, and you could feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment. "Be a good girl and ask for it, come on," he encouraged you.

"P-please…" you breathed out but he wasn't satisfied.

"Please? You're asking for something. Tell me what it is," he mocked you as his fingertips circled upon the hot, naked skin of your inner thigh.

"I want you to touch me."

"I am touching you, darling," he smirked and you bit on your lower lip. Why did he want you to say this out loud? Wives shouldn't say such things.

"I want you to touch me between my legs," you whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Louder," Buck commanded. He gave you a very intense and serious look that scared you a little but it also motivated you to obey him.

"Touch me between my legs. I need you there," you dared to say out loud.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it, sweet baby?" he cooed to you and you gasped at the feeling of his fingers on your wet panties. He laughed softly. "So wet already?"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying you're sorry. What are you sorry for?" he grabbed your cheeks with his free hand and made you look into his eyes. "The only thing you should be sorry about is how crazy you drive me."

You nodded, unsurely, and when he saw that you no longer fight him about it, he stopped squeezing your cheeks and put his long fingers inside your mouth instead. You were surprised at that but you quickly understood what he expected from you. You started to suck on them while staring intensly and lustfully into his bright blue eyes.

"God, you're a sight," he moaned and his fingers got inside your panties to rub on your heated center. Feeling his rough fingertips on your clit made a shiver run down your spine as you jumped a little on the counter. He chuckled and took his hand away. "Taste it," he removed his fingers from your mouth and placed his other hand in front of your mouth. You winced a little at the sight of how wet his fingers were, coated with your juices. "I want you to taste how sweet you are," he insisted and you opened your mouth unsurely. But the moment he put his fingers inside, you started to suck them clean. You wanted to obey your husband.

Buck's free hand focused on tearing your panties and leaving them in shreds on the floor. He had never done that before but you very much enjoyed how hungry he seemed to be for you.

"And?" he asked teasingly after removing his fingers from your mouth and wiping the drool from the corners of your mouth.

"Sweet," you agreed with him because he wouldn't accept any other answer anyway.

"Damn you are," he nodded before grabbing your hips again and pulling you closer to get better access to you. Your center was pressed to his crotch and you could feel that his trousers seemed to be too tight.

You let your hands wander to his belt to undo it while kissing him as your foreheads were pressed to each other's. The kisses were sloppy and nearly desperate as if you needed him more than air to breathe.

"Let me," Buck moved your hands away to work on his belt and you grabbed his arms instead to keep yourself steady and hold him close. Not long after you felt him between your legs, rubbing the tip on your wet and swollen clit. "Baby?" he asked to make sure.

"Go on," you nodded and dug your nails into the sleeves of his shirt at the feeling of him sliding inside. It made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"You're such a doll," he whispered before hiding his face in the crook of your neck to suck on your sensitive skin and make you moan. Usually you tried to be quiet but it seemed like he wanted to hear you because every time you tried to keep it on the low, he would suck and tease more with his tongue, making it impossible to stay quiet. Your sounds were like a symphony to him and he wanted you to finally realize that.

"Oh, Buck," you sighed as his hips started to thrust faster. You felt him so deep that your eyes filled with tears. It was a sweet mixture of pleasure and pain that you never wanted to stop. However, your body twitched slightly as if it tried to get away from the intense, overwhelming feeling.

"Stay still when I'm trying to put a baby in you, will ya?" Buck growled into your neck and it made you feel dizzy. Your fingers dug even deeper as your back arched to feel him at a different angle. It soon became too much to handle and you felt the knot forming in your stomach. Having Buck's baby would only make you happier and even more fulfilled as his wife. It would be a dream come true to carry his son or daughter and let everyone know you were his wife. You wanted it more than anything else.

You came with a loud moan while tugging on Buck's hair. You squeezed him so tight that he came shortly after. His hips thrusted chaotically and you felt him biting your neck to muffle his own moan as your womb filled with his warm seed. You loved that feeling. It was making you feel like you were his more than anything else.

Now when the heated moment was over, you felt a bit awkward with what had just happened. You were the first one to move away carefully and fixed your hair. Buck watched you while breathing heavily with his hair ruffled and forehead covered with sweat. He put his trousers back on and worked on his belt as you tried to jump off the counter but you almost fell down in the process because your legs shaked so much. Buck caught you swiftly.

"Be careful, baby," he pulled you close to hug you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I need to make dinner," you explained.

"No, you don't," he shook his head. "Get dressed and we'll go to town."

"Really? I don't have to cook?" you asked, surprised.

"No. And, in fact, I think we should be going out to eat every Friday. I don't want you to spend every day in the kitchen, sweetheart," Buck rubbed your back.

"But… But I'm your wife," you tried to protest.

"Exactly," he nodded and lifted your chin up, "and I'm your husband and it's my goddamn job to look after you. And the baby," he winked.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[nqctar]

we need more cg!sohee 🥲🥲 literally anything with cg!sohee and little!reader,, specifically like full story rather than just headcanons ykwim? 😅😅💕 thank you 😊🙌

facepainting and other disasters

이소희 / lee sohee ★

pairings: cg! sohee x f!little reader. genre: sfw age regression, fluff/slight angst. warnings: nonsexual usage of 'daddy.’ no major warnings apply.

dni: if you sexualize little space. summary: when unsuspecting sohee falls asleep on the couch, his little decides that it's time for a makeover.

you sat on the living room floor, colouring and playing quietly as possible so that you don't wake sohee. he’d fallen asleep over an hour ago, sleepily telling you to wake him up if you needed anything before drifting off.

however, you fought the urge to violently shake him and then ask to play “makeup” it was your favourite activity, but definitely not sohee’s. he absolutely hated how difficult it was to remove afterward and would spend an hour nagging you about why he’s “never going to let you do his makeup ever again.”

yet every time you ask, he painstakingly obliges. and to your little space brain, that means he absolutely loves having his makeup done.

you peek over at sohee who’s sleeping peacefully and completely unaware of what you’re currently planning. an idea pops into your head and you giggle quietly to not wake him.

if sohee loves getting his makeup done so much, you’re sure he won’t mind you doing it while he’s asleep!

quietly, you tip toe away from the living room and into your bathroom where you keep all of your makeup/face paint supplies. after staring at everything for a couple minutes you decide to grab all of it and run back to the couch.

sohee’s light snores told you he was still fast asleep and luckily for you, he could sleep through the sound of a building being demolished.

“i’m sure daddy won’t mind…” you whisper to yourself as you grab an assortment of face paint colours, planning to make sohee look like one of the clowns you’d seen at disney world months ago.

you furrow your eyebrows in concentration and waste no time drawing all over his face, only backing up whenever he’d move or make a noise. “almost done! he’s gonna love it so much!” you giggle to yourself again, adding a few finishing touches.

by the end of it sohee looked interesting to say the least. white makeup extended down to his neck, and a rainbow of colours outlined his mouth and eyes. it would’ve scared the life out of anyone who walked through your front door, but to you it was a masterpiece.

sohee stirs around on the couch before sitting up and rubbing his eyes, somehow missing the amount of white paint coming off on his hands. he looks over at you and smiles, running his fingers through your hair and leaving a streak of paint behind.

you try your best to not laugh, but sohee looked absolutely silly right now. he raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “what did you do?”

“absolutely nothing! i just played and coloured.” not believing you one bit, sohee mumbles out a “sure.” and walks away, still mumbling to himself about what you could’ve done while he was asleep.

you go back to playing and wait for sohee to discover the “beautiful” face painting you gave him while he was sleeping.

while playing, you hear a faint scream in the distance.

“daddy must’ve seen my art!” you run over to him and give sohee a toothy grin once he looks at you, completely mortified at the clown makeup.

“y/n, baby, what did you do to me?”

“i made daddy into a clown!” sohee starts to rub the paint off with his hands, though it only leaves them coated in white and red. “i can see that very clearly. but why?!”

“umm…” you trail off, unable to give any explanation besides “cause i wanted to.” which you knew sohee wouldn’t accept as an answer.

“why didn’t you wake me up and ask if i wanted my face painted?” you pout and look away.

sohee didn’t seem as happy with your artwork as you thought, and now you’re beginning to regret having the idea in the first place.

“i thought daddy would like it.” sohee starts wiping his face with a towel. just as he’s about to scold you for lathering his face with pore-clogging paint, he hears you begin to sniffle.

“aw baby, you don’t have to cry. daddy isn’t upset. you just have to tell me the next time you want to do my makeup. even if i’m sleeping, okay?” he pulls you into a hug and winces when he sees the amount of green paint in your hair. “sorry, daddy.” you respond, still feeling upset.

sohee holds in a shriek once he notices the paint still all over your hands now ruining his favourite shirt. “it’s okay, little one.”

“just help me get this off, okay? y’know, seunghan is coming over tomorrow. i’m sure he’d love it if you did his makeup too.”

your face lights up as you imagine all the ways you’d draw on seunghan, giggling and bouncing when you settle on making him into a lion.

“m’ gonna make seunghannie a lion!”

“he’s gonna be so excited, baby.” sohee says, hiding his smirk with a face towel.

[antheyaaa]

hey guys anon here 😏😏

ive got a BEAUTIFUL idea

we all know cal couldn’t play sitar for shit SOOOO maybe could we perhaps get a metalhead reader who plays guitar (literally me) teaching cal to play cuz errrr our boy needs some help 😛

perhaps maybe perchance maybe hopefully 🫶

“Power Chords and Awkward Crushes”

Calvin Gabriel x reader

Reader was in the garage, amp humming low and the sharp buzz of distortion echoing against the concrete walls. Her fingers flew over the strings, lost in a solo she’d been tweaking for weeks.

Then came the knock.

She opened the side door, half-expecting her brother or maybe a delivery. Instead, it was Cal.

Holding... a sitar?

“I think it’s cursed,” he said, deadpan. “Or maybe I am.”

Reader blinked. “Okay, come in before the neighbors start asking questions.”

He stepped inside, looking wildly out of place among the posters of Slayer, Iron Maiden, and a heavily stickered Stratocaster on the wall.

“So. You want to learn guitar?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Music class disaster,” he admitted. “Mr. Langley said I should ‘pick an instrument I can bond with emotionally.’ Which, apparently, is not the sitar.”

Reader snorted. “Fair. Alright, hand that antique over. You’re touching my guitar today.”

She handed him her old Ibanez. He looked terrified.

“It won’t bite,” she teased. “But your fingers might after an hour.”

They started with the basics—holding it properly, strumming, the ever-frustrating E minor chord. He fumbled through it all, frustration mounting quickly.

“I suck,” he muttered.

“You’re learning,” Reader replied, nudging his shoulder. “Even Kirk Hammett had to start somewhere.”

The next day, he was back. And the day after. For two weeks straight, Cal showed up—sometimes with snacks, always with determination. His fingers grew calluses. His rhythm improved. He learned how to laugh when he messed up.

And Reader? She looked forward to those lessons more than she’d admit.

One afternoon, she found him trying to learn the intro to Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” without her help. It was clumsy, a little off-key—but sincere.

“You’re cheating on my lessons?” she teased.

Cal flushed. “I wanted to impress you.”

Reader blinked. “Wait... why?”

He looked down at the fretboard. “Because I like you.”

Silence.

Then she laughed softly and walked over. “Well... in that case, I should probably tell you—your technique is awful, but your taste is solid.”

She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Cal went scarlet.

“But you’re improving,” she added. “And I kinda like you too, awkward riffs and all.”

The lesson that day turned into a jam session. Two messy solos, three bad jokes, and one shared playlist later, they sat in the garage, watching the sky turn pink outside.

Cal strummed a quiet chord and said, “So... is this a date?”

Reader smiled, bumping his knee. “Only if you play me something next time.”

His grin was wide and uncertain, but full of promise.

“Deal.”

Hey, my girls😙, I'm sorry I'm only just posting now, but something broke on my Tumblr and I couldn't post anything, and now Pinterest is also doesn't work, so there are no pictures as they are always at the beginning😔.I hope it will work for me in some time and I will post some photos😊.I have a lot of catching up to do because of all this and I'll be posting them now so you can look forward to 4 new Calvin fics😝✌️.

With love-Antheya

[khaoala]

Top ten seductive/hot Ray moments according to you? 😊 You can just list them or yap about them. Whatever you want 🤗🤭

*Cracks knuckles* Anon, first of all, thank you for asking. In this dissertation, I’ll unravel all the moments Ray made me pause for a second or ten because he looked absolutely out of this world hot/seductive/enchanting/surreal. For the purposes of this, I’ll try not to overlap my Ray’s greatest hits with Sarah’s, who has already pointed out some excellent moments here. I agree with basically every one of her choices, but it’s not like we lacked on hot scenes from Ray. Because I’ll take every opportunity I have to gif Only Friends because at the time it was airing, I didn’t possess the skills to do a thing for the show, I certainly have a gifset queued for later this evening, and I hope it shows up 😀. Now, without further ado, let’s begin.

1. Checking Sand out after he lit his cigarette, episode 1.

Already starting by doing something I said I wouldn’t do, but listen, right when Sand walks off after lighting his cigarette, Ray just looks at him and checks him out with such a laid-back charm. You can clearly see he’s getting ready to hunt and his eyes are on his prey. Honestly, 10/10, no notes, super-hot.

2. Stop playing and tell me what you wanna tell me, episode 6.

If I’m not mistaken, SandRay only has three scenes in episode 6 and this one is the least angry one. Ray has been trying to reach Sand who has been actively ignoring him after the disaster at Sand’s apartment (when he was going to get birthday sex and instead got, I’m my crush’s second option). Suddenly, Sand contacts him and he thinks they’ll finally reconcile, but instead he’s faced with Sand trying to manipulate him by using his feelings for Mew. Ray ain’t stupid, he acts on his emotions quick and hot, but he knew he was being played, and right there when he sighs and rolls his eyes and forces Sand to go to the point? Quite hot.

3. Smoking in the bathtub with Sand, episode 11.

How do I describe this one? Maybe it’s the peacefulness in Ray and like, the genuine happiness from having cleared the misunderstanding with Sand and with no immediate issues in sight (we don’t count the substances abuses for this) that simply makes him glow. His hot score is high. His attractiveness score is high. Happy Ray makes him look hot.

4. Deal with him or I’ll do it myself, episode 12.

Possessive and mad Ray will always have a place in my heart. In this one, he was not only pissed, but he was also fucking insecure the man he recently realized he was in love with was going to ditch him for the hot muscular ex-boyfriend, and he still had in it him to say if you’re going to pick him let me know but if you pick me, deal with this quick or I’ll do it my way. So good.

5. The boy is mine, episode 2.

Ray being a little shit is one of my favorite types of Ray. In this case, it’s a good type of little shit because here he is making sure for the first time in his and Sand’s relationship that Sand will chose him before anyone else. The little satisfied smirk as Amm walks off because he won? Amazing. We love confidence.

6. Take the shirt off me, episode 5.

What a fucking menace, Ray Pakorn. He wanted to be fucked the whole day that day but unfortunately, Sand is working class man and had places to be and things to do. Doesn’t mean Ray can’t get his way, and he will get his way some way or another. When he told Sand to take his very tight shirt off him, I was already at the other side of the room screaming silently. I appreciate Sand’s self-control. I would have none.

7. Stop fooling yourself, Sand, episode 8.

I don’t know how many of you are traumatized by episode 8. For me, it’s pure suffering. Maybe it’s also because discourse that week literally anywhere was insufferable. But anyway, Joker!Ray is a nightmare. He’s drunk and high and very out of his mind but stay with me a little bit. The I can have feelings for as many people as I want thing? Problematic? Yes, but also kind of hot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

8. He could convince you to kill someone or at least help him get rid of the body with his eyes alone, episode 8.

Ray being a little shit has a certain charm, we must agree on that. You have to admit that you need a certain level of confidence and lack of shame to show up to the person you didn’t pick and say, “hey, how about you help me with community service, hun?” And Sand folded like a wet piece of paper, and do you know why? Because Ray had his best pleading for cock 🥺 eyes on, and he was so charming and so manipulative, and so attractive. (I mean, the poking thing? It’s endearing.)

9. Just Ray, episode 2.

I think this is a serious case of lone wolf hotness or something. There’s just something especially attractive about Ray being by himself near the pool, with his sunglasses and a flask.

10. Watching Sand, episode 3.

Sand knows for sure how to fuck someone good, because Ray followed this man looking for a round 2 since that morning they woke up together, and he was sure he’d get that when he invited Sand to play at the hostel’s party. He had eyes on Sand up until Boston reminded him he should have feelings for Mew or whatever. He’s just exhaling hot energy. Let’s never forget the scene we didn’t have of Ray throwing his cup after his “confrontation” with Top, too.

[helpsmybaby]

Hello, my name is Leena . I am 22 years old. I lived in Palestine for more than 7 disastrous wars here in my country. I have nothing left in my country. I have no safe home, no life, no future, and we have nothing here. We live in a very dangerous battlefield in Gaza, help me get out to a safe area for me and my family, thank you 😊 🙏

This is our child who has no home, no bed to sleep on, and nothing left for our innocent children. We truly live a difficult life in northern Gaza. Our children are starving. There is no milk or any kind of food for them. There are no hospitals for them or their vaccinations. To treat them, help our children meet their needs as quickly as possible by supporting me through the link 😭 .

This is my home, my memories, my dreams, my life, my clothes, my room, my kitchen I have nothing left nor any memory, my house has been completely destroyed, here is Gaza, here are the wars, here are the disasters in my country only 💣

He is our little baby boy. He was born in the war and did not receive any vaccination from the hospital, because the hospitals were completely bombed. His health is not good and his immunity is weak from the chemicals that he inhales and they are very harmful to him. He was displaced with us from house to house and from tent to tent and was exposed to many hardships, here. Gaza is not our life 🥹💔

I am Leena , I live in Gaza, a country of wars and massacres 🌚

I have a new hairdresser complete with everything

I have my own online clothing store

I have a house of my own that is in ashes

Everything was destroyed and all my dreams were destroyed with them.

Here, Gaza is a land of disasters. We have nothing left here

I am writing to you now while the sounds of bombing above my head do not subside. I have lived through many wars Gaza, from the time I was born until now.

But it is impossible for me to adapt to this terrifying sound. Indeed, this war is the most difficult of all.

I am just a girl from Gaza, who has her dreams, her work, her home... Suddenly everything disappeared from her life...

From a simple girl who loves life, to a displaced girl trying to survive. Being displaced from Gaza, displacement brings you a sense of loss, because you left your home, your clothes, your food, and your memories, and you were empty-handed.

I dream every day of my warm house, my heavy clothes, and my peaceful life before October 7, and I hope that the day will come when returning to Gaza becomes a reality. In this war, if we do not die from the bombing, we can die from hunger, death from thirst, death from cold... All roads lead to death...

I have no home, no job, no store, no hairdresser, or anything left. 😭 I want you to donate to me here on the Gofoundme website. Every contribution, no matter how small, will make a big difference in our journey towards safety and peace. Thank you for standing with us during this difficult time. I am not asking you to help me alone, but this aid will help all displaced people (because I am one of them). 🥹🙏

This is my little sister. Her school and all her dreams were bombed. She did not find any suitable place in Gaza for her to imagine. All the places were demolished and bombed. Despite all this, she laughs.

A new room for a new baby The war and its destruction came 😭💔

After enduring 430 days of ongoing genocide in Gaza, I made the extremely difficult decision to seek help to evacuate my family of 7 to find safety amidst the constant bombardment and hunger our community is suffering from. The situation has reached a critical point, and unfortunately there is no safe place in Gaza and the only way to survive is to travel abroad. To do this, you need between $3,000 and $5,000 per person for the airport to get out of Gaza, and this amount of money is literally unaffordable. That is why I am asking for your help, as we fear for our lives and the lives of our loved ones. We humbly appeal for your compassion and generosity to help us raise the funds necessary for our evacuation. Your support will provide us with the means to escape death and seek refuge in a place where we can live in peace, away from the constant threat of violence.

Help me 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Because you said Taiwan might be your favorite country for BLs. What are some of your favorites or ones you think are underrated? I'm just looking for recs 😊

Why Anon, I am so glad you asked! I have such a soft spot for Taiwan. Thai BLs are usually most people's starting point (understandably so), and Japan and Korea get a fair amount of attention and praise, but no one should be sleeping on Taiwan.

I don't know your level of experience with Taiwanese BLs, so I may be repeating some that you're already very familiar with, but hopefully there's something new for you in there!

Also I have not watched everything, and still have some to catch up on, so if anyone else wants to chime in with something I am missing, please do!

History 3: Trapped

My official entry into BL obsession. A cop and a gangster falling in love while trying to figure out who is responsible for the deaths of people they both cared about. Side couple is the most innocent and naive policeman in existence and a bad boy who just wants to be his househusband. Co-written by Lin Pei Yu, whose name is behind a lot of the shows on this list, so her filmography on MDL is a great resource.

History 4: Close to You

Warning Anon, some people really hate this one. It has a stepbrothers romance, so depends on your comfort level with that kind of story. And there is some dubcon. There are a few bits I usually skip on rewatch, though overall I still enjoy their romance. But for me, the real selling point is couple number two, who are my all time favorite friends to lovers couple. They are both disasters in their own way, but when they fall in love, it's so damn romantic and sweet.

History 1: Obsessed

Lol, yes, I like the History series a lot. This is just a single episode, they didn't have the money for full series at this point, so they have three one hour stand alone stories. The other two in season 1 were pretty forgettable for me, but this one stuck. Another warning here, this one does live up to the title and there is dubcon. As the first season, it's clearly low budget. But you can tell it's a labor of love. I have a fondness for it, the acting is really good, and actor Teddy (who is gay and married irl) has talked about how much it meant to him to do a queer story that was different from the norm of what had been portrayed up to that point.

I enjoyed other History series, but the above are my favorites. Also you may have already heard, History 3: Make Our Days Count is very, very good, but has a tragic ending that was excruciating to get through. If you want to dive in, just be prepared.

DNA Says Love You

This is one I feel is super underrated. I almost never see people talk about it, but it is so incredibly sweet and uplifting. It does start a little bit slow, but it picks up once Amber arrives. Amber is the most precious blorbo ever, and I just want to put him in my pocket and keep him safe. Also, I don't want to spoil anything, because it is plot-related, but it has a form of representation that we almost never get to see in QLs, and is handled well.

See You After Quarantine?

A very quick watch, takes place almost entirely over video chat. This is a really fun one, it's a romance between a Japanese man and a Taiwanese man, and considering the limitations of the format, they do a fantastic job of selling two people falling in love when they cannot see each other in person.

Kiseki: Dear to Me

I don't know if anyone could have missed this one, as it's so popular on here, but it's such a good series. Totally lives up to the hype. Basically Taiwan's version of "what if the entire mafia was gay, and also bad at their jobs".

Unknown

Anon, this one will make you feel things. I literally had to stop watching because it was hurting too much to wait between episodes, and I needed to be able to binge it. It's another brothers romance, in this case an adoptive brother, but it was so beautifully done. There is quite a bit of angst, but the payoffs are worth it.

First Note of Love

Another really sweet one. Two people struggling with where they are in life lifting each other up, and finding their own balance in the process. A rare BL reappearance for an actor, as Charles Tu from History 4 comes back to work with a new partner, and they're fantastic together. Also a very cute side couple, and genuinely good music (if singing scares you in BLs).

I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but hopefully this gives you a few ideas of things to watch!

[verysium]

what do you read in your spare time? you’re one of the most eloquent users i know, id love to hear how you find the media you consume and what your favorites are

omg ei 😊 welcome back to the inbox! thank you for your sweet words although i'm probably not qualified enough to be considered the full definition of eloquent. i am going to preface this post by saying that i definitely don't read as much as i should, so this list is not going to be comprehensive whatsoever. the last time i even visited an in-person library was like half a decade ago, and since then my spare time has been nonexistent lmao. anyways, here are some of my favorite/most recent reads as listed by author:

POETRY

richard siken: i think siken is already well-known both in the literary world and in whatever booktok deems is popular culture. if you don't already know him though, he is best known for his poetry collection crush, which delves into themes of obsession, gay love, and violent eroticism. i actually read this chapbook unknowingly. as in i was hounding sketchy pdf download sites at 3 AM and saw a man with bloodied lips on the cover and decided to read it. he basically became my summer fever dream after that. the way he juxtaposes images is seamless, smoother than water. only richard siken can talk about violence without making it sound violent. i also enjoyed his other poetry collection war of the foxes, especially "portrait of fryderyk in shifting light." i think light is a common motif throughout most of his poems, and he manipulates it effortlessly. the most recent piece i read from him is "piano lesson." i have nothing left to say that he didn't already say, so i would just recommend reading it for yourself. he is the og big brain when it comes to word play.

ocean vuong: he's unforgettable, and i mean that literally because nobody forgets a person named ocean. time is a mother was exactly what the name suggests: an exploration of grief, loss, and the rewind of time after his mother's death. some of the poems are almost cinematic in quality. "künstlerroman" is my favorite because it feels exactly like watching a video tape in reverse. i think his most famous work is "someday i'll love ocean vuong." it was the first piece i ever read from him, and to this day, it remains my comfort poem.

silas denver melvin: i only recently discovered him through his chapbook grit. i think he's also on tumblr @/sweatermuppet. he writes a lot on the trans experience, and his work gives me a mix of southern gothic and country vibes. would definitely read his other publications if i had the time.

chen chen: one thing about chen chen is that he always comes to devour. my favorite works from him are "self-portrait as so much potential" and "song of the anti-sisyphus." you have to put on your thinking cap for some of his poems, but once you grasp the meaning, everything makes sense all at once.

franny choi: "disaster means without a star" was the entire inspiration behind my first rin fic. i relate to her more personally in regards to the diaspora experience, but her collections are worth reading in general because of the sheer quality.

pages matam: his poem "piñata" was what got me into slam poetry. his work mostly consists of political commentary which i feel is particularly relevant in today's social climate. "on learning america's english" also resonates with people who have encountered the entire losing/learning immigrant tongues experience.

laura lamb brown-lavolie: i've only read one spoken word poem from her, and tbh i only needed to read one. "on this the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the titanic, we reconsider the buoyancy of the human heart" is my two-headed calf poem. one day i will get this tattooed.

brendan constantine: once again, this was the result of me being chronically online coupled with the boredom of an august heat wave. i found "the opposites game" through TED. honestly, i was a bit unsure about it at first, but it's a cute little poem that makes you really delve into the intricacies of craft.

TEEN POETRY & PROSE

yasmeen khan: she could mouth her words onto every square inch of my body, and i would still be coming back for more. ingraining them into flesh is not enough. "movie stars" is by far my favorite work from her. she writes about femininity and womanhood so profoundly. it's tragic, but really i wouldn't have it end any other way.

kaya dierks: her writing is basically middle-of-nowhere small town stoner teenage life but personified. "crushed" is my favorite piece from her. the soundtrack for this work was definitely by ethel cain, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

FICTION

madeline miller: i was first introduced to her when i read the song of achilles. let's just say that book had me nonverbal for the greater half of three months. it was my metaphorical hatchet. i buried it once, and i never want to dig it up again. i read circe a few years later. the first time was during the blue hour at an airport, right between one red-eye flight and another transfer. i don't even remember that experience because i was heavily sleep-deprived. i read it again recently for a literature course, this time for academic analysis. overall, i enjoy the the heroine-centric narrative. typically, i'm a bit wary of novels with heavy feminist themes because they either project their agenda too strongly or they run the risk of misrepresentation. circe doesn't exactly have that problem. it was more about empowerment and less about exercising power over others.

charlotte brontë: as a historical figure, brontë was questionable, but jane eyre most certainly was not. that book rewired my brain, and that is saying something because i have never read any classic by choice. and it is so important to me that jane was the ugliest, plainest girl you could ever imagine. also cus i unironically enjoy angst, and this book was full of dramatic misunderstandings.

yoko ogawa: i love japanese literature, so there is no reason not to include this one here. "a peddler of tears" is one of my favorite short stories. i did not expect the ending at all, but it was welcome. something about violence, body gore, and dismemberment being framed as romantic and semi-erotic just gets to me. sign me the hell up. hotel iris is a hit-or-miss with some people. either you like the fact that art makes you uncomfortable or you shut it down completely. for me, i was alright with exploring some of its darker themes, but read at your own discretion.

NONFICTION

ross gay: he lives up to his name both in optimism and in carefree joy. probably one of my favorite creative nonfiction authors simply based off the accessibility of his writing style. easy to read and understand but still hits you with the full force of a semi-truck. i would recommend his book inciting joy. it's a collection of essays that delve into grief, but since this is ross gay, he makes it seem like a quintessential part of life.

paul kalanithi: sixteen-year-old me was mind blown by him cus before that doctors were shrewish old men with bald spots and sterile coats, not poetic surgeons who dissected the anatomy of word and recited t.s. eliot in the most heart-wrenching way possible. he is everything i want to become in both life and death. when breath becomes air literally does take your breath away.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Gimme all the Buddie! 😊

❤️‍🩹🌊⚡️🌌🚨🩸🌿

Hello! These won't all be Buddie scenes - I am just writing literally whatever comes next for this exercise - but they're all Buddie fics. Thanks for the variety, I'm loving it.

Here's 3 for ❤️‍🩹:

---

Christopher probably doesn’t have to just sit and watch Bobby cook, but he finds that he can’t bring himself to do anything else. He’s curious about Bobby; the 118’s captain is such a huge part of Dad and Buck’s lives, but Christopher doesn’t really know him, one-on-one. Which is strange, considering how much he hears about him. 

---

3 for 🌊:

Eddie frets, kind of foolishly, over what to wear. First of all, it’s coffee. Second, it’s not even a date.

---

3 for ⚡️ (you are the only one so far to ask for TWATYTK!):

---

The new year rolls around in an easy, comfortable sort of way. They end up having to work Christmas, which is unfortunate for their first Christmas as a couple, but it’s not like they haven’t spent the holiday together plenty of times before. There is an absence of disaster and drama, like the sort that had seemed to be following them around beforehand.

---

3 for 🌌:

---

They’ve got a little bit over three hours to go to get to Los Angeles, assuming they don’t face any more car trouble. Eddie thinks that that amount of time spent in awkward, angry silence is going to be akin to pulling teeth. But then again, it’s what he’s brought on himself. 

---

4 for 🚨:

---

Bobby puts Buck on the winch. His hands, his actions, lower Eddie down into the earth, starting the clock in his mind. Thirty minutes. Eddie can do this.

---

4 for 🩸:

---

Eddie inhales, trying to quiet the two warring opinions inside him; the desire to be of service to someone he feels he owes, and the knowledge that seeing her has only ever been detrimental to his life and psyche. He’s finally getting Christopher back. He shouldn’t do anything to further potentially destabilize himself. If Chris found out he’d seen her…

---

3 for 🌿:

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“I don’t really want to get into it,” Maddie says. “I don’t want to be in the middle. But he’s Evan’s son, and I’ll follow his wishes where Nico is concerned.”

[pluckyredhead]

☕️hi! Have you ever had any opinions on dickroy romantically? If not, what about other Roy relationships? Roykyle, roydonna, roywally? Ty! 😊

Most of those never really did it for me, sorry! (Though I love all those friendships.) I think Roy and Donna are adorable together when they're younger and I think they're fascinatingly unhealthy when they're older, but I don't actively want them to get back together or read fic about it.

I was really intrigued by Roy and Kendra waaaaay back in the day when they first started dating, but HOO BOY were they a toxic disaster, so never mind lol.

That's a big part of why I ship JayRoy, honestly - I've loved Roy for literally decades but it wasn't until I saw him with Jason that I found a ship for Roy that I was emotionally invested in.

[eliteseven]

This is going to sound strange but can I request something for Consonance? i would like to see Tav and Alfira out on a date at the dame restaurant that Shar and Shadowheart sre eating at. Shadowheart wants to talk to Shar to get her stuff back but in public so Shar has to act normal. But Tav sees her and thinks shes on a date with Shar and Shadowheart is jealous of Alfira. if you could write this that would be amazing! Thank you

It’s not strange to me, I miss Consonance myself! 🥹💕 part 2 is in the works! I just move at a glacial pace bc of work, sorry 💀

Hmm, let’s ponder your idea! So, timeline wise I could see this happening during chapter 2, after Shadowheart gets upset that Alfira got Tav’s real name before she did:

I think it would be a disaster 😭💀 Shadowheart won’t be able to focus on anything other than Serena, three tables down. Every time Alfira laughs, Shadowheart is stabbing something in her plate. Viciously. She also makes eye contact with Shar when she stabs things. Just so she’s clear 😊💅🏼

Serena would be jealous. She doesn’t know what their relationship status is; for all she knows, Shadowheart is in love with Shar. She’s older, probably wealthy, “better” than Serena in every way. (Serena’s internal thoughts, obviously, not the truth). She *thought* Shadowheart might be in an abusive relationship, but probably thinks otherwise bc she literally tried to ask Shadowheart out and Shar was over.

My take on this? Heated bathroom meeting. Shadowheart excuses herself when she sees Serena get up to go into the restroom. Inside, a heated confrontation:

“Seriously? Are you following me?”

“To the only nice restaurant in town? My, Serena, maybe you do have an outsized ego.”

“…I meant to the bathroom, Shadowheart.”

“…ah. No, you’re simply in my way.”

An awkward pause. And then Serena breaking and gushing a compliment bc she will die if she holds it in. Suddenly just hitting her with, “God, you look stunning. I mean, you always do. Is that…should I not have said that? I’m sorry. I don’t know why I-”

And Shadowheart just wants to kiss this beautiful rambling fool, who cannot even fight with her properly!!!! She wants Serena to be on the other end of her table so so badly, and not Shar. She wants to hold her hand and talk about music for hours. She wants to split a bottle wine and talk about their heartache. She wants that pretty smile all to herself.

I’d love it if they had an impromptu bathroom make out session in which Shadowheart shoves Tav against a stall, or Tav lifts Shadowheart onto a counter just to get better angle to kiss her. Poor Serena would be SO guilty but I don’t see her pulling away 👀 at least, not until her lipstick is smudged and Shadowheart’s lipstick is all down her neck….

Realistically, they’d probably just awkwardly bump into each other going for the exit and share the most longing glances of all time before returning to their tables.

Shadowheart would go home that night relieved; Shar was forced to agree and sign some legal documents for her without making a scene. But why does she still feel sick to her stomach? Bc she’s busy imagining what Tav and Alfira are getting up to.

(Tav is probably dreaming about her alone in her own bed 😭💕)

[bayernteen]

I’m shocked, but I’m not surprised. 🙁

I have no words when I read the verdict earlier today. And to be honest with you, this investigation has disappointed me on so many levels. I don’t have an issue with Red Bull winning all the time, nor the drivers. The only issue I have is definitely the team principal himself. (In order to avoid being cooked on social media I have decided not to say his name.) This is not the first time that we have seen him do this before. As a Formula 1 fan who has followed the sport since 2020, I knew something was odd (sus 😐) with RB, especially with the team boss. He has said mean words about Nicholas Latifi after the 2021 finale, he has said mean words about Mercedes and Lewis Hamilton, and like Helmut Marko who said racist words about Sergio Perez, both of them will never get caught when it comes to politics in F1. This just shows the amount of racism and sexism as the major issue in RB. And don’t forget the issue when it comes to second drivers in comparison to Max.

But you know what the worst part about this is? It’s the fact that the parent company from Austria will never let him go. They literally did this as a formality, and there could be a hint of blackmail, but I will not get into that either. But with the female employee showing 100 pages of evidence, and the company stating that there is zero evidence in this investigation, has definitely made my blood boil. This is an example of poor treatment by the team, especially for women working there. This is contrasting to Susie Wolff when the FIA decided to open an investigation against her for her position at F1 Academy (managing director) with ZERO evidence and then deciding to drop the investigation, and it really shows the disappointment I have for the FIA. Therefore, if you are a female RB supporter regardless of which driver you support, you know this is bad for the world of motorsport.

So I wanna send a message to all the women in motorsport, and to all the female F1 fans out there. The reason why I always say ‘Representation matters’, is the mere fact that F1 is NOT a safe space for women. With Mercedes, they are trying their best to bring women in the workplace, but when it comes to RB, it’s always a disaster. Even when the team boss is caught, they don’t care. They just let it go, which is really disappointing even when working with the FIA. I hope and pray that the female employee is alright at the moment, and is supported by her family and female fans around the world. Please just remember to not ask for the name of the employee due to privacy. We all have private lives for a reason. I also hope that she can appeal this and drag this whole investigation to court.

So one important thing here is this: REPRESENTATION MATTERS!!!! And I will not stop posting female drivers when it comes to motorsport or F1 in general. I hope that this investigation is a HUGE wake up call to F1 that women in motorsport is happening now and more than ever. This is the reason why I’ll never stop supporting Mercedes and I want to applaud them for all the hard work and dedication in bringing diversity to motorsport. I hope that they keep this going, and especially for Lewis Hamilton to bring it to Ferrari.

Lastly, to all the women and F1 girls who are reading this and have followed the investigation, you are not alone. This has been a very difficult time for us in the sport, and no matter what happens this season, we are in this together till the very end. Thank you so much for all the support so far, and just remember:

You are not alone, and representation matters! ✨

Take care! 😊