#and i see???? another work????? not mine?????

[cheralith]

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who accidentally finds out who you gave your first kiss to after being under the impression you still had it.

sure, you both were reaching an age where most people had already kissed another, been bedded, under-age drank, but kaiser never took you as the type to be so… promiscuous (“your dad was okay with it?” he had asked. “why the hell would i tell my dad about that.” your eye roll had never been louder.)

it was apparently some classmate you had dated briefly back in early high school, a time where you had both were barely able to see each other since kaiser spent some time in jail after being framed and after being bailed out by his manager, spent the majority of his time in his team’s training clubhouse. it didn’t help that it was quite a few towns away from your own, so communication grew weary between you and him during that time.

so when you and him finally reconnected and began to settle down with each other once again at an older age, where you and him were blooming into college, he’s amazed to see how much you had grown during the past few years, how your featured had matured into themselves so elegantly that sometimes, when you weren’t looking, he’d examine each bit of your features to get a proper look.

it was a little difficult attempting to gain a proper stance from him, since all the training at bastard mündchen had clearly done a work on him both good and bad, but when kaiser felt himself relaxing more and more with each frequented interaction with you—he’s brought back to when you were both children and didn’t know any better of the world around you.

so imagine his shock when you accidentally let it slip out that your first kiss went rather wrong as you and him are watching some sort of foreign sports movie where the main character’s long-time love interest finally kisses him.

“god i remember my first kiss,” you say casually, making kaiser snap his neck towards you so fast.

first kiss? you had your first kiss already? before he did???

sure, kaiser had a good amount of fans that flocked to him every chance they got and perhaps he’s done a little bit of entertaining to them, but even so—he still hasn’t necessarily had such a moment shared with another. he never felt like he needed to focus on it… never felt like it was some deed worth prioritizing becoming the best striker… until now.

“huh?” kaiser shuffles in his place and furrows his brows tightly, a vein barely visible from his forehead. “whaddya mean first kiss? with who? when?”

the questions shoot out all at once, you can’t help but laugh at kaiser’s (supposed) curiosity. you suppose the suspense of knowing what happened to that runt he met at eight years old has experienced since his arrest.

“oh, it was just a classmate from one of my sophomore classes,” you wave a hand, as if it was completely nothing to hold much regard to.

kaiser twitched, his eyes flickering towards your ripened lips. “and you gave him your first kiss?”

“probably my last too,” you sigh out wearily, “haven’t really had much people interested in me since then.”

he fell silent, going to scan your face again once more as you fixated your gaze to the tv, circling in on your lips again that give a soft pout. he twitched.

“he got too excited and ended up moreso clashing his mouth on mine—we ended up clacking teeth pretty hard,” you snort out as you stare in quiet amazement at how tender and soft the tv’s couple’s kisses were. “it ended up hurting too much to try and continue.”

you bite your lip, concentrated. “i dunno, i just wish it was more slowly, more… in-the-moment.”

kaiser twitched once more. noticing your wistful gaze at the movie playing in front of you and him. he flickers his eyes toward the intimate scene that you seem so focused on. he pays attention to how the lips of the two characters flow in a certain rhythm and how they meld into each other. they seem loose, relaxed, and that lack of tension made the kiss seem much more romantic.

he thinks back to some of how his teammates greet their girlfriends with kisses, or how he’ll just see a random couple locking lips with each other in the bars his team and him tended to as a celebration of a victorious game. kaiser had never felt a compulsion to experience such a thing, but there’s a strange magnetic feeling he’s getting that tugs him closer to you that is very much not his own rationale’s doing.

he says it with too much confidence. he says it like he’s done it numerous times before, like he’s a master at it, despite never even paying such avid attention to another’s lips until now. so kaiser doesn’t know why, but he suddenly blurts out,

“then let me show you a proper kiss.”

[nanamiscocksleeve]

I'm sad and angsty and yes, there's dragon Sylus smut being written but first, I must make my angst everyone's problem.

--------

"My dragon was gone."

That's what you had assumed anyway. Now bearing half his soul, with horns, wings, and a tail of your own, you had forced yourself to live. But life had it's own way of providing miracles.

It didn't take long for you to realize you were tired and listless, constantly hungry, but rarely with enough energy to actually find food. At first, you were certain Sylus's death had somehow weakened you, and the thought of joining him in the blissful dark had seemed like your only salvation.

Then one day, you had stopped by the edge of a river to bathe, and that's when you noticed the obvious bulge in your belly in the reflection; you hadn't cared to groom or see yourself after Sylus's passing. Now you run a hand in awe over the smooth bump, evidence that even in his death, he had also provided you with life.

You had no idea how long a dragon hybrid pregnancy was, only that it was much faster than a typical human. Which is why when you felt a sharp pain a few weeks later, you weren't surprised, but also couldn't suppress the feeling of being utterly unprepared. You had hurried back into your cave, your shrieks of pain echoing off the walls. Your hands dug into the makeshift bed you had prepared, feeling like you would pass out from the pain.

Alone. The word swirled in your head over and over like ash from a volcano. Alone, alone, alone. You'll never see your dragon again. He had left you, and you were here, about to be a mother, to raise his children without him. Sweat gathers on your forehead as you squat, trying to arrange the softest bits of fur for the arrival of your child despite feeling like your body is being cleaved into two.

You sob, tears streaming down your face. How could he expect you to this alone?

You're not alone. You're never alone. Your soul is yours, but it is also mine.

You don't know where the voice came from. It echoed in some confine of your brain but you feel Sylus's presence, can almost sense the comforting heat that he used to emanate with his clawed hands wrapped around you. He was right. He hadn't really left you. He had given you the most primal piece of himself to ensure you carried on his legacy.

Hours pass in agonizing pain, but you survive. And somehow, even in his absence, your dragon had left you another surprise. From your blood and screams, two little souls made their way into the world. You wrap them tenderly in the furs you had arranged, gazing adoringly at their chubby cheeks and small clenched fists. One of them cracks open an eye lazily, and you catch sight of a bright, ruby-colored eye, before it dozes off again.

They had the tiniest wings, still folded and glistening from delivery, and bitty little claws on their fingers and toes. Identical to each other, their chests rose and fell in tandem as you cuddled the precious bundles. You already knew their names.

"Welcome...Luke and Kieran."

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@brekkersgfl @adyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo

@supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume

@theimmortalbuns @venussakura

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Could I request Himeko and Springfield whose S/O likes making them coffee?

(H:SR/GFL) Himeko and Springfield's S/O making them Coffee

Himeko was under no illusion that most people thought her coffee was...unpalatable, putting it kindly.

And that is to say nothing of her cooking ability.

With all that being said, she is genuinely touched everytime her S/O makes her morning coffee in exactly the way she likes.

Bitter is better after all, and she's glad someone else besides Dan Heng has something nice to say about that style!

(S/O) "Another cup, dear?"

(Himeko) "Please, and thank you.~"

Himeko puts the mug near S/O as they pour more in, with March 7th's and Caelus's gazes trying to avoid meeting either of them, lest they get offered some vile "refreshments".

(S/O) "Sure you guys don't want any? This is a lot for just Himeko and I to dri-"

(Caelus) "I-I drank a lot of juice already, if I have any more, I'd need to go pee."

His response came very quickly at the prospect of trying any of the killer coffee couples' drink.

(March 7th) "...Second that."

(Himeko) "Hm, should I brew it then? You usually seem to drink mine everytime I offer."

(S/O) "Maybe I should make mine more bitter to match yours?"

(March 7th & Caelus's thoughts) Is that even possible?!

Springfield always appreciates another helping hand in the café, especially a human touch to it!

Usually she would brew the coffee to match whoever their customer is, and that varies all the time.

However, it touches her core that S/O would always keep a pot aside, special for her alone.

As soon as she steps in for the day, Springfield can see S/O pouring her a cup, alongside a muffin on a plate.

(S/O) "Morning."

(Springfield) "Did you get something for yourself as well?"

(S/O) "Doing that now."

Springfield smiled at that, waiting to dig into breakfast until S/O sat right beside her, the two enjoying a little bit of quiet before opening up.

Some of the other T-Dolls working in the café would occasionally tease Springfield, being jealous that she had her own spouse already.

Even though they weren't married, the idea made Springfield blush all the same, with a bright smile accompanying her too.

(Springfield) "Thank you as always, S/O. Do you want me to start making coffee for you too?"

(S/O) "No, it's fine! You already make me plenty of muffins, no need to add to it."

(Springfield) "Oh, are you sure?"

S/O chuckled, leaning against her shoulder in the seat.

(S/O) "Considering that I'm running out of space in my fridge to put them in, last thing I need is even more stuff to put up!"

(Springfield) "D-Do I really bake that much?"

(S/O) "...Yeah, it's honestly kind of scary how fast you can crank them out."

(G36's Voice) "I'm astonished we have the supplies to bake them everyday considering how many we sell. And that isn't counting the ones you give away for free."

[gardens-light]

I always look forward to seeing these types of posts on my feed, as it gets me thinking about what writing goals I'd like to achieve or set. As well as, see the goals/accomplishments of other fellow writes.

My answers are below, and keep reblogging with yours. :)

💖 Might be a tad small, but I'd like to achieve at least 50 fanfics by the end of this year. Weather they're requests/prompts or ideas of my own.

🛳 Maybe dive more into platonic ships. As I do favourite romance.

🤔 I would like to write one shots/series for under rated characters. Such as Crosshairs, Hound, Bulkhead (and more) from Transformers, Abe Sapien from Hellboy, etc.

🥸 My sister knows, and has read a couple of mine. As we often share ideas, inspiration, character/fandom ideas etc, since she also writes fanfics. My husband is aware that I write fanfics, but he doesn't quite know exactly what kind of things I write. But I don't plan on telling anyone else.

🥵 100% yes.

👻 Maybe more in depth the with action genre. And step out of my comfort zone by exploring horror or dark elements.

🦄 I do prefer 2nd person. But might write a fic in 1st or 3rd.

🐌 May not be writing goals exactly. But organizing my drafts better, as there has been a few fics that sat there for months collecting dust.

🦖 I'd like to get back into Hellboy, as I realize that I abandoned a series idea years ago. And my attempt at it really needs to be re-written, as I don't like how it sounds anymore. I might also do more anime fandoms, but the faze tends to come and go for me.

🍄 DC Comics/Universe. Although I'm mainly a Marvel fan, there has been a few ideas I've had, that would better suit DC characters.

🌈 It may not be research, but I do tend to read a few fanfics or orgianal fics of fandoms I'm new/returning to. As well as, binge watching TV/movies of that character/fandom.

But I also do research on writing. (Sub-genres/plots. Kinks/fetishes. Cliches. Building motivation, organization, writing goals. etc.)

✨ I'd say my use of deceptive language and onomatopoeias. And how I try to use other writing techniques to immerse readers that little more.

🥕 Certainly my grammar, as I've noticed a few spelling mistakes over the time. And my sense of scale and anatomy, I appreciate people telling me how way off I've been in my past fics and how it affected their reading experience.

🫘 I'm actually planning on writing a young adult, fantasy novel with OCs. And I've recently started up on Fiverr for writing commissions.

🥳 I'd probably just give myself a cheat day from my diet and exercise. Or buy that thing I've been eyeing up for ages.

🎃 I've actually been meaning to write seasonal fics. But the time I have a moment to write, or the idea comes to me, the season's over. But certainly gonna try and give those ago this year.

🐾 Another thing that's been on my 'To Do List' for a while, and would like to try to participate at least one or two this year.

✍️ Honestly it would have to be comments. Not the amount of comments, but just comments in general- even if it's just one or two. As that's the main way people have given me valuable feedback, and it helps me grow to be better writer.

👾 I'm honestly not sure what 'bad' writing habits, that I may have. There's bound to be a good few that I don't notice, and would try and break them if they're pointed out to me.

🤖 I mainly use my laptop or phone for writing for convenience. As I do tend to do a bit of writing on my breaks at work, but I suppose having an area dedicated to me writing at home wouldn't be too bad.

🦷 I'm currently working on two different series for the Transformers fandom. One is for the character Knockout in TFP, I love this character and have many ideas for the series, but he's mainly seen as asexual in the fandom. I agree and respect the views of this character, but since I don't really have anyone in my friends/family that identifies as asexual, I'm honestly worried I may accidentally misrepresent the character and/or those who identifies as such.

💥 I have an idea for a one shot for The Joker from DC- Suicide Squad. As the one-shot I've got planned is an semi original idea, and many dark elements that would challenge me, and get me out of my comfort zone.

🍕 Due to my part time job, and personal commitments. I do only write/post things whenever I have a free moment to dedicate an hour or two to this hobby. But I'd would like to try and post more per month, but also not to flood anyone's feed.

🛏 I'm sure there's a few tropes/cliches that I've already written for. But I'd like to write 'bed one' or 'cuddle for warmth' cliche, as they're surprisingly the ones I don't write about. Yet they're my favourite.

🪩 Might be a little controversial, but don't be afraid to give your reader a nickname or codename in your fics. For example, in my Transformer fics, Reader is an military officer so they have an nickname such as 'Lieutenant Echo' or 'Private Valkyrie.' As to me, these give the Reader a little more depth and personality to their character, and doesn't take them out of the reading experience by reading 'Y/N' over and over.

🎉 In all honesty? Probably not, as just like anyone. I'm my own worst critic.

💌 Yep! Those sort of things keeps my motivation going, and gets me out of writer's block sometimes.

Writer Goal Ask List for a New Year 🎉

These writer asks are always so fun to both ask and answer. Fanfic or original fiction writers, reblog away! These are asks based in new goals for a new year.

💖 What is your primary writing goal for this year?

🛳 Are there any new ships you want to write for? (Platonic, romantic, or anything in between.)

🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about?

🥸 Does anyone in IRL know you write fanfic or original fiction? If not, do you plan on telling anyone this year?

🥵 Any plans to write steamy or spicy content this year?

👻 Is there a new genre you'd like to write?

🦄 Is there a new POV you'd like to try writing?

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?

🦖 Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you'd like to return to?

🍄 Are there any fandoms you've never written for but want to try?

🌈 What research do you plan on doing for your writing?

✨What's one area of your writing that you think needs the least amount of improvement?

🥕 What's one area of your writing that you think needs the most amount of improvement?

🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year?

🥳 How are you going to celebrate when you achieve one of your writing goals?

🎃 Do you plan on writing any seasonal fics?

🐾 Do you plan on writing for any fests or competitions?

✍️ Which stat matters most to you (if at all!): subscriptions, kudos/favorites, comments, bookmarks, word count, or hits?

👾 Do you have any "bad" writing habits you want to break?

🤖 Are you looking to change your current writing setup? (Or establish one, if you don't have one?)

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

🍕Will you be making any changes to your posting schedule (if you have one)? (Or do you want to establish a posting schedule?)

🛏 Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year?

🪩 Do you have any "good" writing habits you want to cultivate?

🎉 How are you going to be kind to yourself if you don't meet your goals?

💌 Are you willing to take requests or prompts for writing?

[secretl1fe0fm3]

can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion ~ matty healy

this is slightly inspired by my favorite ovulation song; oxytocin by billie eilish :P (also this is my first one shot so please be nice!!)

warnings: smut, inexperienced!reader, service top!matty, slight power imbalance, excessive use of the word ‘love’, matty going down soft sound, aftercare, soft(ish) dom!matty, sub!reader.

18+ minors dni!!!

3k+ words

You sigh lightly as your phone lights up your pitch black room, mocking your current state of insomnia. You had set it down over an hour ago to try and force yourself to sleep, but even with a lack of the blue light, you were still wide awake. Sitting up, you reach for your phone and notice an unknown number calling you. Already being unable to sleep, you decide to entertain whoever could possibly be calling you at this hour. Ultimately, deciding to answer.

“Hello?” You speak slowly and softly, still somewhat tired despite being unable to sleep.

“Thank god you answered.” Said the voice, relieved, on the other end of the line.

“Matty?” You could recognize that voice anywhere, even though you were seventy percent sure you were hallucinating right now.

“Im sorry to bother you at this hour, love. I need your help.” Matty breathes out, his voice sounding rushed. You groan to yourself, barely audible. You and Matty had been friends for years, meeting through a mutual friend, but you haven’t heard from him in almost two years until now. He practically ghosted your friendship when he found himself in a new, yet toxic relationship. But, based on the headlines you had read the other day scrolling twitter, they had finally called it quits.

Sitting up, you put your phone on speaker, and sit it in your lap. “Matty, what the fuck do you need?” You’re pissed, but your voice not showing any more than a slight annoyance.

“I need you to come pick me up, take me back to mine. My buddies dragged me out with them to get over, well, you know. Long story short, they are all shit-faced, none of them fucking coherent, and my god damn car service app isn’t working.” He sounds genuinely stressed. “My phones about to die as well, which is bloody fucking fantastic.” Matty grumbles into the phone.

You sit there, momentarily debating your options. You could leave him there, make him figure his shit out on his own. But you also have a soft spot for him after everything, knowing, if anything, he’s not the same person who deserted your friendship a few years ago. A deliberate exhale leaves your mouth, choosing the latter.

“Yeah, okay. Just text me your location before your phone dies. I’ll be there soon.” You hear him start to thank you, but you hang up quickly, not letting him get another word out. Deciding to keep your satin pajama shorts and bra on, you throw a hoodie over and slide on your sneakers. Groaning while grabbing your car keys off the kitchen island, you set off to your car, driving to Matty’s current location.

As you pull up to the bar, you recognize Matty leaning up against the wall, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Nothing has changed. You also notice none of his friends are anywhere to be seen. Odd. Driving up next to where Matty is standing, you roll down your window and his eyes catch yours.

“Long time no see, love.” Matty’s lips twist up into a smirk. Nothing. Has. Fucking. Changed. You watch him stub out his cigarette on the brick wall and toss it into the trash can by him. He climbs into your car shortly after. “Missed your face, thanks for coming to get me.”

Letting out an immediate scoff at his nonchalant behavior, you decide to ignore his comment. “So, Im taking you back to yours, right?”

You feel Matty’s eyes rake over your body, burning into your skin. You can smell some alcohol on him, though you know he’s not a big drinker, only having a glass or two of wine usually, and choosing to stick to his cigarettes or weed. He’s not drunk, so why is he looking at you like that.

“Of course, love.” He speaks lowly, eyes still stuck on you. You decide to disregard his use of the pet name and put your car into drive, pulling off onto the main road.

The drive to Matty’s house was maybe fifteen minutes at most, and yet it felt like an eternity with his eyes fixed on you. It’s almost like he couldn’t believe you actually came to pick him up, not being able to come to terms that you were finally seeing each other after two years.

Pulling up to Matty’s house brought back so many memories, and important moments you two had shared over the years of your friendship. His driveway led you to his front door, as you put your car in park, you finally glance over at Matty, who’s staring attentively. Under the glow of the exterior lights on his house, you notice he’s wearing tight black jeans, a dark belt, blank tank top, and a satin dress shirt. His long curly hair is slicked back slightly, with his sunglasses sitting on top of his head.

“Like what you see?” Matty implies cockily, eyes never leaving yours.

“It’s a fucking Monday.” You glare at him. “Why were you out on a fucking Monday, don’t you think you’re too old for this bullshit?” Continuing to ignore his playful comments, you squint your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. You slightly feel bad for picking arguments with him, but his remarks are starting to make you feel some type of way.

Matty laughs out loud at your comment, the sudden deep laugh makes you jump a bit. “Lighten up a bit, love.” He nudges his elbow into your arm. You continue to frown at him, clearly not finding anything amusing. Matty falls silent, realizing how upset you actually are. “Look, why don’t you come inside? I can make you some tea, and we could watch a movie like old times?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, waiting on an answer.

Your eyes bore into his. “Fine.” Turning off your car, you and Matty step out, walking up to his front door. He unlocks his door and steps to the side, motioning for you to come in. You take off your sneakers and set them on the mat, walking over to his living room and sitting down on his massive couch. He joins you promptly, sitting right next to you, a little too close for the amount of spots he could’ve picked from.

“Still a little bratty? Huh?” He asks casually, not once looking up at you as he turns on his TV.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widen at his sudden judgement.

“Bratty. You’ve always been a little brat, love. It’s cute, though. Never minded it. Some things just never change.” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

Can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion

Your mouth is agape, taken aback by his words, struggling to make a counter remark.

“I see no one’s ever tried putting you in your place yet.” Matty hums absentmindedly, setting the remote down and glancing over at your shocked face.

You know I love to rub it in like lotion.

Pink flushes on your cheeks and neck as you stare at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say next. "I- what?" You stumble over your words, mouth suddenly dry.

Matty moves closer, invading any personal space you were clinging onto. His hand falls on your thigh, squeezing as he keeps his eyes locked on yours. "Oh, you heard me loud and clear, love. Don't play stupid now." He whispers, eyes flickering to your lips momentarily.

You lose the ability to speak, eyes unable to leave his. "Matty-" He cuts you off.

"C'mon darling, I saw how you were looking at me in the car, and how eager you were to come pick me up tonight, even after all this time"

I can see it clear as day.

The blush on your cheeks deepens as you feel his hot breath fan across your skin, creating goosebumps up your arms. You grab onto his forearm, putting your other hand on his chest, trying to keep a small distance between you two. Matty was very attractive, you couldn't deny it. But your inexperience was making you hesitate, unsure of how to handle his advances.

Before you could react, Matty reached his hand out and placed it on your cheek, the other still resting on your thigh, squeezing tighter than before. His face was only centimeters away from yours as he breathes out, "Tell me to stop and I will. But you don't want me too, do you, love?"

You don't really need a break.

You close your eyes tightly, feeling flustered at his words. A warmth growing in your stomach, an unfamiliar feeling. You think about pushing him off, but your body ached for him, not wanting to stop this. Without any more hesitation, you look back up at him, shaking your head slowly, an invitation for him to continue.

Wanna see what you can take.

At your permission, Matty crashes his lips against yours, moving the hand that was on your cheek down to your neck. You let out a small gasp at the contact. He takes this as a chance to deepen the kiss, taking up every part of your mouth with his. The grip on your thigh moves up, closer to your heat. His fingers play with the hem of your pajama shorts, pushing them up slightly, almost exposing your underwear. You let out a pathetic whine as he breaks the heated kiss.

"God, Ive wanted to do this for years, you have no idea." Matty grumbles out as he pulls off your hoodie swiftly, pushing you down to lay back against the arm rest. He hovers over you, pulling down your satin shorts slowly, eyes never breaking contact from yours. "You're so fucking pretty baby, my perfect girl." You blush at his words, letting out a soft groan. Feeling like a prey under the gaze of a predator, you fix your eyes on the ceiling, unable to look at him.

You should really run away.

Matty notices this, and reaches his hand out to grab at your chin, directing your attention back to him. "Don't you dare look away, keep your eyes on me, yeah?"

Your eyes meet his again, his pupils blown with lust. He looks at you with a stern look, asserting his dominance as you nod silently. Matty smirks at your obedience, and starts rubbing small circles on your heat. You moan louder this time at the friction, pushing your hips up against his hand.

Other people wouldn't stay. Other people don't obey.

"That's right, love. Does that feel good? Do you want more?" Matty's eyes stay trained on yours. You feel small under his gaze, yet enjoying how he towers over you, his chain dangling in front of your face. You clench your legs together as his fingers rub at your clit, growing wetter by the second.

Your stomach starts to tighten, already close to an orgasm. "Im close, please, I can't." You cry out, throwing your head back on the arm rest.

His fingers suddenly disappear from your clit, and you cry out from the sudden loss.

"Do I need to repeat myself? I told you to keep your eyes on me, yeah? Be a good girl for me, darling." Matty reiterates, moving his other hand up to your neck again, applying pressure but not fully cutting off your airway.

You nod feverishly, not wanting him to stop again. Your eyes pleading for forgiveness. Matty chuckles and reaches his hand back down, his fingers barely grazing your clit again as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, exposing your wet cunt to him. The cold air against your core makes you shudder, the contrast in temperature sending a wave of pleasure up your spine.

Matty watches your reaction intently, reveling in how it doesn't take much to get you worked up. He releases your neck from his grip and places his lips against your neck, searching for your pulse point. You expose your neck more, giving him silent permission to continue.

I wanna do bad things to you.

"God, you really are a desperate thing, aren't you love? Tell me where you want me." He murmurs into your neck, planting kisses and bites around the sensitive area as he rubs tight circles on your clit. You flush at his words, letting out a whimper.

"Anywhere, please." You beg him, jerking your hips up to create more friction again. He lets out a soft chuckle into your neck at this.

"Your wish is my command, darling." Matty smirks and pulls away from your neck. He begins to move down your body, trailing kisses until he reaches your cunt. He breathes out onto your heat, then swiftly attaches his lips to your clit, sucking hard. You cry out from the new feeling, body squirming with pleasure.

Matty hums against your pussy at the cry you let out, creating a vibrating sensation. Your hands grip at his head, your fingers curling into his hair and pulling. You keep your eyes on him as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly, mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

"So fucking perfect for me." He mumbles, wrapping his hands around your legs, keeping them wide open for him. His tongue teases your tight hole, licking thick stripes wherever he could reach before his attention is drawn back to your clit, sucking persistently.

Your back arches off the couch, fingers gripping at his hair and pulling hard. "Matty, fuck, Im gonna come, fuck-" You stumble over your words, feeling your stomach tighten at his continued abuse against your cunt.

Matty pulls away momentarily, "Go ahead, darling. Be a good girl for me and come on my tongue, yeah?" He picks up speed, mercilessly sucking and circling his tongue on your pussy.

I wanna make you yell.

Your legs clench together, affectively trapping him against your core as your body tenses up. You throw your head back, letting out an obscenely loud moan as you feel your orgasm wash over your body. Your hips buck up into his mouth, feeling even more wetness pool where his mouth is. Matty moans against your cunt, sending aftershocks from your orgasm straight to your heat again.

"You taste fucking unbelievable, love." He grunts out, making sure to swallow every last bit of your orgasm. Your body twitches from overstimulation as he finishes cleaning you up with his tongue.

Matty pulls away, his lips soaked with your fluids. You look at him with heavy eyes, feeling almost drunk from your orgasm. He looks almost as wrecked as you. You are about to sit up and reach for him when you glance down and realize he's still hard, but he stops you.

"I know you're tired. You don't have to finish me off. Another time, okay?" Matty speaks lowly, keeping eye contact with you as he stands up and grabs a blanket from the basket near the coffee table. He sits on the edge of the couch next to you, wrapping you up in the fluffy blanket. You blink up at him, exhaustion washing over your body.

Matty stares down at you, giving you a look filled with an emotion you couldn't quite pinpoint. You sigh out, feeling his body press up next to yours. He pulls you into his arms tightly, brushing his fingers through your hair.

"Thank you for that." You admit your appreciation shyly, a content smile on your lips.

Matty grins down at you, "Of course, love. Anything for you." He runs his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands out of your face. Your eyes flutter shut, unable to fight the sleep coming over you this time.

[aritsukemo]

Invisible Scars | Multiple Characters

Summary: In which the night before leaves you traumatized and causes your emotionally constipated/emotionally reserved friend to seek you out.

Warnings: Purposely vague descriptions ahead ( no names are mentioned besides yours ). Reader killed someone and is negatively reeling from it. Blood is mentioned but nothing seriously descriptive. All that said, read at your own risk!

A/N: I got the idea to write this after scrolling through @creativepromptsforwriting's sideblog and finding this prompt. I plan to tag characters who come to mind, but this is really an open drabble so feel free to imagine whomever you see fits! :D

Tagging: @nursedflowers and @saioratral

The high-pitched screech that bounced off the walls was a sound one would typically associate with tea at it's boiling point or maybe a hotpot screaming to be eaten. One thing that certainly would not have come to mind was a running faucet—specifically one that ran water so hot that it made even the durable metal cry out in pain.

The incessant shrieking, as annoying as it was, didn't faze the girl who sat before the sink. It was as if the noise was never there...which actually wouldn't be that far off from the truth.

In reality, she couldn't hear a thing aside from the same bloodcurdling screams.

Her hands worked as if they were trying to create a fire. They slide together at blinding speed, rubbing against one another so hard that a few more minutes of it would surely cause a tear in the skin of her palms.

Part of her wished that would actually happen.

A knock on the door sounds followed by the mellow hum of her friend's voice as he called from the other side, "Y/n. Are you still in there? It's me."

Heavy silence replaces her much needed answer, and if it weren't for the faint sound of running water, he would've been none the wiser in assuming she wasn't in there. Since that wasn't the case, however, he had no other choice but to try again.

"Y/n," He calls only for the same result. He then tries a third time, "Y/n!"

Silence. He sighs. Guess he has no other choice.

"Forgive the intrusion," With that gentle request serving as a small warning, he takes his time to twist the knob, giving her more than enough time to make herself presentable if need be as he swung the door open at a turtle's pace and peered inside.

As he suspected, she was standing at the sink, her back facing the door and preventing him from seeing what she was doing—not that he needed to. The steam, the running water, the uncomfortable sound of her hands sloshing together and sounding like two blades clashing...it all gave him an inkling of what was happening.

But how long has she been doing this for? He was almost to scared to ask. Almost.

"You've been in here for a while now," He said, and unlike his usual tone, his voice was dipped in uncharacteristic gentleness and sounded rather withheld. It was as if he was being held at swordpoint, and even then, it was surprising to hear him sound that way.

Maybe if she was paying attention she would've heard it and teased him about it. Possibly cracked a joke or two about him finally growing soft enough to warm up to her after all these years.

But instead he received silence and that scared him more than any enemy he's has faced in his lifetime.

"Hey," He called out again, but this time more sternly. He also didn't give her nearly as much time to answer. Not that she likely would.

"You can stop now. I doubt your hands are that dirty.." He's slow with his steps, closing the distance bit by bit, "Hell, by now, your hands are probably cleaner than mine."

She doesn't move, flinch, or do anything that would acknowledge that his words had reached her. It was as if she was in a trance, put under a spell of some kind or was a victim to some hypnotism caused by unknown means.

In a sense, what was happening right now was kinda like that.

In the matter of a minute or so, he's close enough to reach out for her delicate wrist. He does just that, but not too long after he snatches his hand away. He then paused, looking at his hand before looking back up at her with horrid shock gleaming off his hues.

This water was hot. Really hot. Hotter than any water boiled for food or tea.. He's surprised that the droplets don't just evaporate as soon as they leave the faucet.

"You don't feel that?" He leans in, getting closer to her face as his brows furrow, "Does that not hurt?"

He already knew the answer—of course it did—but the fact that she wouldn't answer him struck a nerve and in the end he finds himself grabbing her roughly by the wrist and snatching her away from that molten lava altogether.

He shuts off the water quickly after that, putting the annoying whistling it produced to an abrupt end. It seemed only then that the trance she was put under was broken and she was finally able to think and move for herself again.

As he lets go of her wrist, she finds herself opening her palms and staring down at them. She stares for a long while. Just opening and closing her palms repeatedly and rubbing her fingertips together, as if she was examining a foreign object.

The skin of her palms looked as if she had ran them across a rough surface for an hour; puffy with an angry hue of red to them.

They were a deep shade, just like... She clenches her teeth. He's quick to notice.

"If this is about the other day.." He began, his words dying in his throat as he watched as she flinched away at his very words.

He knew this would happen in the end. He tried to warn them all but nobody wanted to listen to reason. They sent this fragile glasswork into that cage of knives and sharp fangs without a care in the world and left him with the job of mending anything that was broken back together.

It truly irked him. More than something like this usually would.

"If... If you were in my shoes yesterday.." She began slowly and quietly, and despite her voice sounding like a mouse's squeak and a part of his blood boiling at the sound of it, he bit his tongue and held back his snapping comment.

Right now was not the time to be reckless. Too hard of a hit—or any pressure at all really—would cause his dear friend to shatter into a million pieces and he can't have that. How would he be able to fix her up in that condition?

"If you were me last night, if... If you had your weapon to that person's throat. ...If they begged you through their sobs and reduced to a blubbering mess...going on and on about how they needed to live.." She pauses, whether that was because she noticed how her voice grew more and more unsteady with every word she spoke or the fact that her hands had begun to tremble was unknown to even her. It seemed that at this point she was unsure of, well, everything.

And at that point, her friend saw no better of a time than to take a risk and speak his mind.

"If you plan to continue on to ask me if I would've still killed them than let me spare us both the time; I would in a heartbeat."

She laughs at him, her giggle sounding like a sick bird trying to sing. It should be comforting to here despite it's raspiness. After all, despite it not sounding exactly like her usual laughter, it's a miracle she's able to laugh at all. He should be sighing out of relief that she still seems to be gripping onto her sanity enough to find humor in such a dank situation.

But he couldn't, and all because of the simple fact that he had grown used to her sounding so full of life. It was truly a pity.

"I suppose that was a silly question of me to ask you of all people."

In all this time, he's noticed she hasn't looked up from her hands once. It was unnerving to see her like this, but there was nothing he could truly do about it. He could direct her attention elsewhere, sure, but that wouldn't stop the swarming of her thoughts or reduce her heightened awareness of what was once staining her hands and forearms. And, it surely wouldn't halt the constant loop of that incident from playing in her mind—that moment of her taking a life with her own hands, in a quite grotesque way at that.

Her mind was stained just like her skin and just like how she couldn't truly rid herself of the grimy feeling of blood sticking to her skin no matter how hard she scrubbed, he couldn't wipe her mind of what happened. They were both truly powerless.

But he had to do something. Now that they've gotten her foot out of the door, she has to walk through it. There's no backing out of this, she knew this when she went on that mission yesterday. There was no way but forward. He knew that better than anyone.

"Nevermind what happened, come on," He slides his hand up her arm, over her shoulder, and dips down to the upper part of her back where he gently pushes her in the direction of the door, all as he tells her, "You should get off your feet and actually rest. You'll need it for tomorrow.."

For the first time that night, she glances up at him. It was for a mere moment, but that quick second was all he needed. Her eyes..were like a starless sky; completely devoid of it's usually glimmer of life. It was as if he was staring at a solider who's spent the last decade at war.

Truly astounding how such a look was formed just after a single night.

Wordlessly, she allows him to push her in the direction of the door as if she weighed nothing. She walked slowly, and as she did she looked back down at her clean, reddened hands. Her eyes sinking even more as she does.

She finds herself wondering if the blood she felt would ever go away—if it were possible that her palms would be capable of ever being truly clean again—and that led her to softly murmur to the only one she could think of turning to; her companion and partner in crime, him.

"Does it.. Does this ever get better?" She asks to which she receives probably the heaviest sigh she's ever heard in her life. It tells her all she needs to know but does little to quell the turmoil in her heart. It has her questioning if she'll be able to handle the path forward. If she'll reach the end or go insane halfway through.

Whatever happens, she finds herself praying that she'll be able to walk this path hand in hand with someone who's treaded this gravel before.

..And it so happens that a person like that is leading her to her bedroom right now. How convenient.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[shabbytigers]

literally not trying to fight here, to be clear.

i don’t use siri or alexa or voice controlled remotes either but that’s mostly because i intensely dislike doing anything via voice. i don’t listen to podcasts, avoid videos where a text alternative exists. idk about robovacuums, are those voice controlled too? but in any case i never really saw the point of those one way or another. i am however considering using claude (at some point when i get it together to formulate a question and figure out how prompts work); you can have conversations with claude via typing, and its sophistication is starting to be interesting to me in a way earlier robots like siri haven’t been. i don’t have some deep fundamental rage or fear about robots. idk.

the real-feeling-to-me fears around data are two things

1. classic identity theft, credit card spoofing or whatever. at this point that feels a lot like major weather events: basic weatherproofing makes sense but i’m not structuring my day to day life around precautions. worst case, there’s a situation and i deal with it. i’ve had two incidents in this last year plus, they didn’t actually get any of my money, there were some unpleasant nuisance phone calls etc but worse things happen in war.

i don’t think that google or facebook or apple or even x is running a literal identity theft mob at scale. so for me this doesn’t connect directly to the question of turning off the ai setting on the iphone photos app y/n. the issue is, will they have a data leak that allows a third party mob to do the thing. but at that point we’re back to ambient systemic risk: yeah, weather events are gonna happen, somewhere

2. hostile government surveillance, as @thatiswhy pointed out, is the other concern.

not sure how much to worry about this irl. if i were trans in texas or florida, lots. in new york or berlin … meh, but with one twitchy eye open? normal [sic] governments, not in the throes of full-blown theocratic fascism, have neither the inclination nor the capacity for this shit. given the state of the u.s. it may become a federal level risk imminently, but granular surveillance at scale in a country of 330 million people is a lot and state capacity has been, is, and will continue to be in the toilet. overcoming the sludge in the way of getting anything done isn’t just a question of tech. it will require extraordinarily motivated, focused, willful villainy and a paucity or dereliction of opposition.

once more, however, i have a lot of just very fundamental difficulty causally connecting the toggle on my photos app to the state coming after me to deliberately and malevolently fuck me up. are there plausible scenarios where the state would actually do that? unfortunately yes. will my photo app toggle make any difference? they don’t need my data in particular, they need tons and tons of aggregate data. clearly they’re going to get tons and tons of aggregate data. furthermore, they’re going to get my data. because there are obviously uncountable other things on a well functioning current-day smartphone and in any ordinary human being’s digital life just generally that can be mined in this manner.

again, we’re now talking about something highly pervasive, systematic and infrastructural. the risk is baked into the system. like, i am not going to kill my online presence everywhere, go full black bloc, take myself right tf off the digital grid, due to this vast nebulous inchoate concern. that would be like spending every hour of every day weatherproofing, never going outside, etc, etc. i’m sure it’s worth it to a person with a highly specific and confirmed reason to worry. i do not think it makes sense for everyone or should be recommended on general principles.

also … see, i actually really like the internet? i don’t think phones or social media are a society-destroying plague? i don’t think it’s terrible or unhealthy or whatever to spend a lot of time on the phone, assuming you do also have other shit going on, etc? i feel like there are pervasive and rising anti-phone attitudes that foster a preexisting inclination to point to the phone as the fons et origo of all evil futures, and it’s maybe coloring risk assessment around this. it’s got that dubious-public-health virtue-and-moral panic feel

also also, it’s all a bit beyond my pay grade, but if you’re looking for something to worry about wrt AI, i gather there’s more interesting/concerning issues available than the question of immediate-term data mining inputs and use cases. vaguely offensive, nuisancey shit like this is just the scurf of capitalism, don’t let it get you down, save some reserves for like real problems imho

Oh _lovely_. Everyone go turn this off:

Enhanced Visual Search in Photos allows you to search for photos using landmarks or points of interest. Your device privately matches places in your photos to a global index Apple maintains on our servers. We apply homomorphic encryption and differential privacy, and use an OHTTP relay that hides [your] IP address. This prevents Apple from learning about the information in your photos. You can turn off Enhanced Visual Search at any time on your iOS or iPadOS device by going to Settings > Apps > Photos. On Mac, open Photos and go to Settings > General.

[emotionalhottiee]

Whole Again ❤️

Jimmy Uso/ Jonathan Fatu

This is the conclusion to Broken

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise stated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events in this fanfic are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Warning: 18+ (This content may include explicit material).

Before i knew it we were back at Jon’s condo. And ever since we stepped out of his car, we have been inseparable. Our lips only coming apart to press elevator buttons and open doors. I know that this sounds crazy… But i feel whole again now that we are together. He was made for me.

We reached his door FINALLY. Our lips came undone to allow Jon to unlock his door. He seemed as if he was a bit nervous the way he was fumbling with his keys. It was honestly so cute to watch.

As he held the door open, i walked over towards his leather couch. As much as i missed him, there needed to be a conversation.

Jon was standing by his front door messing with something before he made his way over to the couch. Walking right in front of me, he bent down so he was literally hovering over me. He leaned forward to kiss me again, but i put my hand up abruptly stopping his lips from touching mine. A confused look arose of his face as he moved over to the right of me sitting on the couch, but turning his body so that he was facing me. “We need to have a conversation about the infidelity before we can just move on as if nothing happened.” I stated calmly. Trying my best to get through what was going to be an emotional talk.

You can do this.

“I hadn’t imagined being able to forgive you. Because watching you fuck someone else, in the same bed you fuck me. That killed me inside Jon”. I murmured avoiding eye contact. “And then where’d you go? Chasing a new piece of ass, instead of calling me”. “Your future wife” i threw my hands up doing a very aggressive air quote. Because that is what he always called me. “You cheated and then you moved on as if i meant nothing to you.”

I came undone. As much as i tried to hold back the tears, but they couldn’t be contained any longer as they were steadily falling down my face.

No longer being able to avoid eye contact Jon placed his fingers gently under my chin, lifting my head up until i our eyes met for the umpteenth time tonight. “What happened with that girl meant nothing to me”. My heart was pounding out of my chest. “I made a mistake that i have regretted ever since” he stated his eyes looked past all of my tears, deep into my soul. Sending a wave of chills down my spine.

It is insane how this man, can make me want to apologize to him for the things he did wrong.

I hate to admit that he had the kind of power over me. But he simply did. And then came those words that i had longed to genuinely hear for 5 agonizing days. “I’m Sorry”. He stated his voice deep, but soft for me. He kept lookin into my eyes, pleading to me without saying another word. Crazy how two little words can mean so much. Causing you to forgive even the most hurtful things imaginable. With a simple apology. The pain and hurt and betrayal i had been feeling for the last 5 days, slowly started to vanish.

God i hate how much i love this man.

But he is my true weakness. How can i stay angry at the person, who brings me so much happiness? Why would i? Life is all about forgiveness right? Aren’t you supposed to forgive those who hurt you?

Throughout my internal conflict Jon never took his brown eyes off of me. I saw all the sincerity i needed to see in those eyes. He reached his finger up to my eyes wiping the last of my tears. Before returning his gaze to mine. “I never meant to hurt you Kenzi. I promise it was a terrible mistake that will never happen again”. He said lovingly while he pressed his forehead against mine.

Bringing my hand up to his beard in awe of those facial features that adorned his face. “I forgive you Jonathan” i said calmly again, because i genuinely did. Nobody will understand why it is so easy for me to forgive this man. And it’s simply because i need this man perhaps more than i need my own supply of oxygen. As unhealthy as that sounds my obsession with him is truly that deep.

We exchanged a few more passionate kisses. Whispering sweet nothings to each other in between. As Jon got off the couch first. His towering 6’3 frame bending down in front of me once again. But this time he was scooping me up into his arms as if it were nothing. Our faces coming back together as he carried me into his bedroom, with my legs wrapped around his waist.

I noticed the brand new bed set on his king sized bed. And a small smile crept up on my face. “Im glad he changed the sheets”, i thought to myself relived that he didn’t have those same sheets from his past transgressions.

He laid me down on the king sized bed and he placed a trail of kisses from my cheeks down to my neck. “I love you so much, little mama” he whispered into my neck know that would send me into a frenzy. “I love you too baby” i whimpered back softly. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he took his large hand gliding it down my body, until he came in contact with my the silver button of my boyfriend jeans.

Sitting up on his knees, he freed up his other hand to slide my jeans down to my ankles, before tugging them off of my body completely. He did the same with my crop top shirt freeing my bra-less boobs from them. I sat myself up on my elbows to watch him. As he stared at my almost naked body, biting down on his bottom lip allowing me to only see the top row of his pearly white teeth. Rubbing his hand over my Fenty boy shorts he smirked feeling the wetness he had cause through my panties. “You missed Daddy didn’t you?” He asked his smirk never leaving his face. All i could do was nod my head, as he inserted his middle finger into my center. I let out a whimpering moan. As he knelt down only nesting his face in my neck to slowly pick up the pace. “FUCK” i let out as my hands tried holding on to the sheets. He placed kisses on my neck knowing his was going to insert another finger. I squeezed my self ever so tightly feeling the added finger. He kept a steady pace as he bought his face up to mine. Telling me he loved me before placing a kiss on my lips.

He knows what he’s doing to me.

I let out a barrage of my moans, as i came on his fingers. He just looked at me grinning from ear to ear. As he pulled out his fingers now covered in my juices. He stood up from the bed, stripping himself of his clothes until he was left in only his boxers. He came back down to me kissing me as he slowly pushed my body flat onto the bed. Planting a trail of kisses as he made his way down to my thighs.

He was unusually quiet, which to me was a sign he was focused. He finally removed my panties after what felt like an eternity. Coming face to face with the pussy that belonged to him. He kissed me on the insides of each thigh before he kissed my vagina. My hands found their way to his hair that was brushed into a bun. Taking out the rubber band that kept it together, so that i could run my fingers through his beautiful curls.

He made out passionately with my vagina, moving back and forth between my opening and clit never missing a beat. At this point my hands embedded in his curly hair pushing his face into my glistening pearl, as i did that Jon took it as a sign to insert his tongue into me. Bringing one hand up message my clit while sliding his tongue in and out of me. feeling me near the edge. He removed his finger from my clit, going back to using only his mouth. He moaned into my pussy instructing for me to cum for his and i gladly obliged.

Making sure to clean me up, with his with tongue, he bought his face back to mine. Kissing me passionately with what was left of my juices that remained on his lips. He slowly rose back to his knees, then off of the bed to his feet to remove his final article of clothing, his boxers. Freeing that big beautiful brown dick of his that was swinging back and forth.

He climbed back in bed, coming down to me, until i felt his entire frame over me. Kissing me once more. All this passion he was giving me had made my knees weaken. He looked me in my eyes in between kisses as he inserted his fully erect penis into me. Both of us letting out of moan of pleasure. Him from feeling my warmth tighten around him. And mine from feeling the dick that i was in love with, enter me again after what felt like forever. I bought my legs up to wrap around his waist as my arms wrapped around his neck. As he feed my pussy stroke after stroke. I dug my nails into his skin as he move one arm to separate my leg slightly allowing him to dig his deepest so that his dick could kiss my cervix.

Trying not to make him bleed from my scratching i opted to move my hand back to his luscious curls, that were now all over the place. While my hands were roaming through his hair he placed his forehead against mine. Signaling to me that he was inching closer to a finish. As was i. He whispered another sweet apology followed by him confessing his love for me again.

Locking our eyes together again. Was enough for me to release all over his member as he groaned against my lips. Waiting for me to ride the last wave of my orgasm. He released his load inside of me mixing all of our juices together inside of me. While getting out his final strokes. He laid on top of me trying to catch his breath. I slightly turned my head towards his as i ran my fingers across his soft back.

He planted a soft kiss on my lips as he rolled off me. I took this as an opportunity to go to the bathroom and get myself together. Before finding one of Jon’s large tshirts to put over my naked body. Laying back in bed, he pulled me to him so that we were skin to skin leaving absolutely no room in between us. He softly let out one last “I love you little mama”, before shutting his eyes. I stared at him while caressing his face. Simply responding with an “I love you too Jonathan”. He smiled eyes still shut as we held each other before drifting off to sleep.

This is where i belonged.

[admirationandromantics]

Forced Confession

He would. We've already seen it!!! Anyways, this does not feature some of Josh's "darker" methods, but just early game banter. I tried a little with just the two boys, but let me tell you, I struggle so incredibly much with the guy pov. I still think it worked out. You basically got two scenarios and the locked-in bedroom-bit. Enjoy <3

Word count: 1,4k (Unedited)

imagine josh trying to set you up with chris kinda like he tried to do with chris and ashley, he makes comments about you to chris pissing him off and getting him all riled up, he sends you off to do some tasks together until he locks you both in some bedroom at the lodge and he's kinda forced to confess to you 👀👀 -anon

“You know, she’s really hot, if you don’t do anything about it, Mike might” Josh tells Chris, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Dude, please, don’t rush me” 

“Oh come on, she’s not going to wait forever, you’ve been a perfect gentleman, now get going with it!” 

Chris furrows his brows, unsure about how to react. It’s true, you guys have been walking around the bush for too long, and now, you might set your sights on someone else. At the same time, if he did confess, and you didn’t feel the same, he’d ruin everything you guys had, everything you’d built up. 

“Man, I know, but what if something goes wrong, it might”

“Or you might fuck until dawn, and to be honest, I think I’m right” 

“I don’t know” 

Josh sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. His friends were dumb as shit, and it annoyed the hell out of him. If you guys just got done with it already, there’d be so much less tension in the room. 

“Okay, proposal. If you take her against that tree right there, I’ll give you fifty dollars”

“What?” 

“Seventy if I can tape it” 

“What, no, absolutely not” 

“You had your chance” 

***

A loud smack is heard, and both mine and Josh’s heads turn to the window. Chris is not there anymore. The lodge lock was frozen, and we had to find another way in. Chris seemed like he had a plan, and Josh and I followed through, managing to open a window and looking inside. Or, falling inside, at least Chris did. He lets out a loud whine, and Josh helps me up on the box to look inside. The clumsy blonde is laying on his back, on the floor, eyes pressed tightly together and arms laying weakly in each direction. I give him a look. This man needs to be more careful. Josh appears beside me, using the frame of the window for stability. 

“I should’ve paid more attention in climbing class” 

“You mean gym?” 

I let out a laugh as Chris gets up, groaning in pain. 

“You okay, Chrissy?” 

“Yeah, yeah” he mumbles, waving his hand. I look deeper inside the cellar. Everything’s dark and creepy, and I would definitely prefer to wait outside with the others. 

“Okay, you next” Josh exclaims, hand laid out as if asking for a dance. 

“What, absolutely not. Have you seen the inside?” 

“Believe it or not, but I have” he smirks, shaking his head to Chris. I roll my eyes, everyone’s being a prick today. Especially this guy with his suggestive comments and small favours. 

“Fine” I conclude, starting to climb. I get one leg in, laying flat on my stomach as I try to get through, hopefully safer than Chris. 

“Incoming!” Josh shouts, pushing me inside. I yelp, my whole body falling inside, muscles tightening and eyes closing, waiting for the impact. Instead of a concrete floor, two strong hands grab me, a little weakly at first, but then tightening the grip. I open my eyes, seeing Chris looking down worriedly, holding me bride style. 

“And there came the princess, off to the honeymoon guys!” he shouts, about to leave us. 

“Are you fucking insane, Washington?” I yell at him, cheeks flustered from my position. I try not to think about it, but every time I turn my eyes, he’s already staring at me. 

“No, just getting things going, you know?” 

“Man, be careful won’t you? She could’ve gotten hurt” Chris adds, hands grabbing me harder. I have to look away, ashamed by how turned on I get by his hands and grip. 

“Nah, you wouldn’t have let that happen. Enjoy yourselves, though not too much!” Josh finishes, jumping down from the box and leaving us in the cellar. 

“Um, you can put me down now” I say, smiling up at him. He looks as if in a trance, eyes big and sparkly. My request makes him shake his head, nodding and gently letting me down. I don’t miss the opportunity to caress his chest, his jacket a little open. Hopefully, the touch is so subtle he doesn’t notice. 

“Of course, of course. Let’s find the bathroom” 

***

Sam walks up to me, head tilted in an innocent manner. A way that makes it feel… not so innocent. 

“Hey, I left my towel in the guest room, can you grab it?” 

“Can’t you?” I ask back, everything feeling out of place. Something’s up, and I don’t know what. 

“Josh is waiting for me in the cellar, to get the warm water running, I’m about to go down, can you just grab it, please?” 

I nod, giving her a sceptical ‘sure’, making her smile. She walks away, and I wait for a couple of seconds, just to check that this isn’t some set-up. After about 20 seconds, I make my way to the room. I would’ve seen or heard her by now if she was watching or planning something. 

The hallway is empty, the only sound being my boots on the dark wood floor. This year feels different than before. Something’s in the air, and that scares me. Maybe Josh is planning something? It wouldn’t be the first time. Sometimes I even wonder if he’s out to get me. Usually when it’s about Chris though. He can’t just accept that he doesn’t feel that way about me, and if I did something, he’d be freaked out and I’d ruin everything we have. I walk into the room, being met with the blonde himself. 

“Chris?” 

He turns, looking at me surprisingly, then shifts his gaze around the room. Before either of us can put two and two together, the door smacks shut, a small click coming from the other side. Shit, those little fucks. 

“Hey!” I yell, banging on the door. A load of snickers are heard from the outside, making me yell louder and hit harder. Chris sighs, walking over to me and trying a calmer approach. 

“Guys, come on. We’re supposed to get ready to party all night long, right? Now let us out” 

“No fucking way!” Josh laughs, earning himself a high five from Sam. At least that’s what it sounds like. 

“What was it you told me a while ago? Oh, that day Chris was wearing a t-shirt, showing off his arms?” Sam teases, and I hit the door as hard as I can. Chris looks my way, intrigued by the continuity. Sam and Josh talks as if they’re on a children's tv show, each sentence clear and horrific to hear. 

“What did she say, Sam?” Josh jokes, making the whole situation worse. My cheeks flush, terrified of the next sentence. 

“Yeah, what did you say?” Chris asks, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. I shake my head. This cannot be happening. 

“I think it was something about being headlocked and fucked from behind while he flexes his muscles?” 

“I’m going to fucking kill you, Sam!” I shout, head in my hands from the humiliation. Fucking god, Christ, holy shit. I’ll be dead before I get to kill her. Being locked into a room with Chris, forcing him to hear everything. 

“Oh, what a coincidence Sam, do you know what dear old Chris said the other day?” 

“Oh, do tell!” Sam exclaims, clapping her hands in excitement. 

“I think it was that day she was wearing a skirt” 

I perk my ears, and suddenly intrigued myself. Now Chris was the one banging on the door, telling them to shut up. His ears are red, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy. Josh continues either way. 

“Something about him pushing her against the wall, lifting her leg until she’d be fully exposed and showing herself off to him while he pounds into her” 

My mouth falls open, looking over at an embarrassed Chris. He’s turned away from me, too ashamed to meet my gaze. Sadly, I know how he feels. Carefully, my hand makes it to his torso, grabbing a bit of his sweater and turning him around. My pulse skyrockets, his gaze darker than ever, tongue licking slowly over his lower lip. I lean forward, and before I can make my next move, he does it for me. My back is slammed against the door, lips meeting mine in a hungry, passionate manner, eating me up. My hands fly to his neck, pulling him closer while nails scratch his skin. 

“Oh shit, that thud was definitely not out of anger. We don’t want to hear this, Josh” Sam says, both of their footsteps walking down the hall, the sounds growing lesser and lesser from the distance. But honestly, no matter how close they are, I can’t really hear them. I’m too caught up with Chris’s small moans and groans, the way they vibrate down my throat.

[peppermintprism]

Hello fellow ADHDer, may I interest you in some management tools?

Option 1: goblin.tools the AI tool that breaks down tasks for you. (Note: if you don’t want to use AI, you can skip to Option 2)

You can delete sub-tasks that don’t apply to you, or click the 🪄 icon to break down sub-tasks further. I often find that I’m not overwhelmed by the number of steps, but instead by trying to hold all those tiny steps in my glitchy working memory.

Option 2: Domestic Labor & Dragons. This strategy originated on TikTok, and most citations trails lead back to @this.isjules but I was unable to find the original video. Here’s my version of it:

1. On a day when you have a brain cell, make a list of the chores in your house by room or section. Number each item, try to make your list lengths correspond to standard dice numbers so that you can roll on them as tables later. Your options are: 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, and 20. 🎲

3. Assign point values to each chore. The number of points doesn’t matter, but I like using 5pts for easier tasks, 10pts and 15pts for medium tasks, and 20pts for especially hard tasks. I made two lists for some unintelligible reason. You can just put the points on the same page, just like write them in another pen color or something.

4. Make your monster. Draw it badly. Use a randomizer website or pull from the monster manual if you want, just don’t get too precious with it, the monster’s purpose is to be defeated and we’re gonna scribble on it. If you want to do a big cleaning day, tally up your total possible points for doing every chore in your house, then divide that by two. (For me, all chores add up to 400pts so I make most of my Big Monsters 200pts)

5. FIGHT! Most of the time I really only end up needing to use the Roll for Chores sheet and the dice, but it’s really fun to scribble on the monster as they take damage and your house gets cleaner. You can optionally assign some reward for defeating the monster, but I just like the dopamine hit of defeating my Blorbo. Mine reset to baby mode upon defeat as seen with Bitey above. Final note: if you refill the same chore twice, take a break!! Get food!! The people who tell you to never stop moving are on their way to burnout!!! You can get momentum again by rolling the dice “just to see” what the next chore would be.

More options: Body Double with a friend, Roleplay that you’re Cinderella or your favorite character, put on a dance music album and only clean until the music stops, invite a friend over to have a reason to make your space clean when they arrive, put on videos of professional cleaners helping people get their space in order, hide shelf-stable snacks at the bottom of piles of clutter and only eat them once you’ve reached the bottom of that pile. Do whatever works! Throw shame out the window! If it works for you it’s not dumb!

(Note: this acronym is also sometimes called INCUP or FOCUS. I just like PINCH best.)

Good luck out there, friends! Now I have to go do the cleaning that I procrastinated by making this post. 😅

Sincerely,

A fellow ADHDer ♾️🦋

Clean home checklist:

"Do the laundry" as if doing laundry doesn't have 27 individual steps that each require other tasks to get done. Each task runs the risk of starting additional secret tasks.

"Organize kitchen" my brain has malware and it's overheating. CPU at 100%. There are no executives at my function

[heartbreakgrill]

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Part 9; "Never seen that color blue."

“No, yeah, of course! Noo…no! Thank you! I seriously appreciate all of your help and understanding during this! I hope you have a wonderful day! Yeah, aw, thanks! You, too! Yeah- okay- bye!”

My faux smile dropped as soon as my hand did, phone falling to a silenced settle on my left thigh. I breathed a shallow breath of somehow anxious relief, so ironic that it made me want to scream.

Max reached across the bed and rubbed my knee comfortingly, “You okay?”

I wanted to snort, yell, kick my feet, and laugh hysterically. Throw a temper tantrum, wish on a star, kiss a fucking frog. Fall on my knees, beg the skies. Change fate's cruel course of time.

But my expression was blank as I shrugged, “What can ya do?”

The corner of his lips lifted into the saddest smile. His thumb brushed my skin, “It’s gonna be alright. Once you settle back in, things will start to feel normal. You can start…moving on. And, hey, I’m visiting in just a month. You have that to look forward to. School starting, your new role at the clinic. So many good things, Daz.”

He was right- I had so much to be excited about. I really should’ve felt excited, grateful. A better woman would have. A better woman would have seen the blessings all around her and felt so full of life and love. God, she would’ve respected herself enough to not be in this situation in the first place.

Yet I couldn’t help but feel resentful, knowing that I would trade all of it for-

for him.

For Oliver.

I would give up everything for just another moment, hanging onto his lips like a vine. Just a second of growth, even if being ripped away meant digging up the roots and my leaves dying.

I just gave Max that fake smile, knowing full well he was aware that it meant nothing. “You’re right. It’ll be good for me to be home.”

He squeezed my knee before removing his hand. “You wanna finish packing? Or maybe take a break? Get some food?”

I glanced around at the mess of clothes across Sam and I’s hotel room. My bags lay open, a few piles of my stuff already stuffed inside. But there was more than half to be done. So much to be done before I went…before I went home tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Less than 12 hours from now. I’d be heading back to reality. Closing the doors on Europe, on everything and everybody I’d be leaving here.

There was just one week left on the European leg of the two. Tomorrow morning, everyone will be leaving for Germany. I’d go to the airport with them, like normal, but depart at a separate gate, at the same exact time. Those who needed to know, well, I was going to tell them. And those who needed to know the reason why would, too. Sam was going to think I was going home because of an offer for a higher position from the clinic I worked at. But this was only partially true. Training for that wouldn’t even start for another 3 weeks. School wasn’t for a month.

I was leaving for me- for clarity, fresh air. Oliver was right- London was foggy, full of pollution and shitty, selfish men.

I needed to get away, out. Back to routine and home. Back to what I knew- what wouldn’t hurt me.

I looked back to Max, “I'm gonna finish packing. Get it over with. Before Sam gets back. I think it might hurt his feelings to walk in and see this…mess.”

Mess might have held a double meaning. I had looked better, for sure. Max understood, I think, for he knocked his shoulder against mine, then stood from the bed. “We got it, Daz.”

I stood up quickly, knowing the only way to get started was to just start. Stand. Move. (I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.)

It took us another hour or so to finish stuffing my belongings into their bags. I had bought maybe one too many souvenirs, so we struggled to find a place for everything. When we were done, I slew myself across the end of the bed, breathing heavily, sweating a little bit.

Max groaned from the floor, “Why do you own so many things?!”

“Dude, I don’t even know. It’s gonna take me 12 years to unpack!”

He chortled, half-heartedly, patting his stomach as an afterthought. “I am soooo hungry. What do you wanna eat?”

I sat up as he did so, shrugging a bit, “You pick. I don’t have the energy for all that.”

“I’m good with the hotel restaurant if you are.”

“Fuck it.”

So, we sludged our way downstairs. I hadn’t been leaving my room much, worried you-know-who would cross my path and shake things up again. Though, I doubted he was looking for me. He hadn’t so much as texted me since last week. Oliver was probably sulking, convincing himself that he was the victim in this whole thing. The thought made my blood rush a little bit. I clenched my fist as the elevator doors closed, trying to focus on breathing and not screaming.

The past three had been probably one of the worst of my life. I was so…so sad. So angry. Confused. Nothing made sense, yet all of my fears had come true. It was like I knew all the answers, but my bones felt so put off by how they manifested themselves. Like, what do you mean the cold, dark, distant boy turned out to be a cheating, manipulative liar? Right on the money.

My rational mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that it still felt so…disappointing? Wrong? Fucked the fucking fuck up.

The doors slid open. I followed, quietly, behind Max as we headed for the inlet to the left of the front counter. This was a usual part of my new found routine, grabbing food with Max. Albeit, sneakily, with numerous texts between the two of us (me, badgering him) ensuring nobody else (Oliver) was down here. In avoiding him, I had been avoiding everybody else, too.

I could already see their knowing looks. Sam could read me like a book. Ronnie was way psychic and usually felt the vibe of a situation long before it occurred. Adam, obviously, already was aware. And I'm sure he would have relayed the information to Cyrus.

I was exuding this aura of heartbroken, school-girl-fantasy-crushed, sad-puppy shit. I felt tired, and I’m sure my eyes looked it, too. Any passerby probably could have read my emotions pretty well. No matter, I’d be out of here soon. Back home. I could heal, rest, relax, find somebody else to fuck and get the fuck over this dumb ass white boy.

My dumb ass white boy. I’d tried not to think about him, so deeply sunk into this angry feeling that I couldn’t even fathom the idea of missing what had hurt me. Alas, every once and a while (between every other curse I thought of) something would flash through my mind. A distant memory, an image of his deep-ocean blue eyes shining with flames from the rooftop firepit, triggered by a breath, a catch of the wind, a sink in my heart. I’d feel a little moth flicker in my chest. An air bubble, taut in my stomach, would have me hiccuping from gushing tears in an instant.

I think it was the deep blue suede of the hotel bar’s stools that did it this time. I brushed a hand, slowly, watching the color shift from the movement of the fabric. The lighter color reminded me of a time he felt the way I did right now. Sadness. Maybe it hadn’t meant as much to him, maybe his depravity was not comforted by me. But that moment, when I held him, when he nuzzled his head into my neck and began crying-

“Wanna drink?” Max rested a hand on my shoulder, drawing my attention back from where I was trudging through fleeting, erasing moments.

I ceased my body from flinching, willed away the wetness in my eyes, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s get a drink.”

Which was a mistake.

One drink turned to appetizers turned to three drinks turned to main courses, 5 drinks, 2 shots, and dessert. Before I knew it, Max and I were cackling over some typo on some Twitter post. I gripped his shirt sleeve and hoped I wouldn’t slide off the bar stool. For the first time in a week, I wasn’t concerning myself with the logistics of sticking around in this public area as long as we had been. I wasn’t even thinking of Oliver. In fact, Max and I were discussing some of our favorite shitposts about American politics. My mind was far away from dumb Brits and idiotic Europeans.

Of course, the world had a very funny way of spitting in my face.

Adam, Cyrus, and- low and behold- Oliver came strolling into the bar right when Max and I finished ordering another drink. I felt a little sick, watching as they neared us. Oliver wasn’t paying attention. He never did. His head, sunken into his hoodie, hands shoved in his pockets. He moved like the Grim Reaper. I wondered if he had come to take my soul away.

Adam and Cyrus seemed…on edge. They noticed Max and I only after they’d made it halfway across the room. Adam hesitated on his next step, catching my eye, worriedly glancing between me and Oliver.

Max was aware, at this point. He cut himself off mid sentence, swiping a hand across his lips. “Shit,” he mumbled to himself. “Daisy…let’s go.”

His fingers brushed through mine in a desperate grasp to pull me along with him, towards the door. I was drunk. I was not thinking. I was hysterical, sad, heartbroken, angry. I tugged my hand away, instead flipping into the air to wave and cheerfully catch the group’s full attention.

“Cy! Adam!” I couldn’t quite catch his name on my tongue. I thought I might puke. “Hey, girl!”

Oliver looked up at the sound of voice. He stopped, but three feet from our little round table. The light, dim from the overhead lamps and LED strips behind the counter, caught the round pupils in his eyes. I watched as he blinked once, twice. Blue.

“Oliver!” There it was.

He met my eye. The corners of his lids wilted, like the petals of a flower, aged, saddened. Drops of rain dropping them in weight. Max looked between the two of us. Cyrus busied himself with buying a drink. Adam slouched in the awkward, pregnant air. Oliver ignored me, moved around our group to sit as far away as possible.

I clenched my jaw. Rage. Utter, pure anger. How dare he deny me even now? The fact that he had not come to my door in the past few days, on his knees, begging for my forgiveness- I was seething. And, now, he goes back to his old tricks. Pretending like I don’t exist.

I turned to Max, who was bracing for impact. His hands were wary, held up near me as if to catch my fall. I shrugged, smiled cheekily, wrinkled my nose. I bumped Adam’s shoulder with mine and declared, “Shots on me?”

He continued his smug slump in the bar stool for the next hour. Adam, Cyrus, Max, and I hung like the old pals we were, cracking jokes, swapping stories like we were surrounding a campfire. I glanced at Oliver every once in a while, hoping to accidentally make eye contact like we used to. He stared down at his phone or his glass. I was surprised the device worked considering he’d fucking forgotten my contact existed or something.

Ugh.

What a fucking ass hole.

Adam asked me a question, pulling my attention back in. “Are you excited for Germany?”

Oh. I’d almost forgotten all about this little plot. I knew that if I spoke loud enough, Oliver would hear. He’d react. I could almost hear it, the little hitch in his breath. The tickle in his throat. The flit of his tongue across his lips, the patter of his holey heart.

I felt my own chest jitter with the excitement, the want of a reaction I needed from him. The shock. The idea that I would be an ocean away from him. No longer at an arm’s length.

I turned towards Adam and rested my chin on my fist. I frowned, almost playfully, “Ugh, I hate having to tell you guys like this!”

Cyrus slowly lowered his glass from his lips, having been mid-drink, “What’s up?”

“I’m going home,” my brows furrowed in a naive look. Adam and Cyrus’ chins dropped a sliver. I pouted my lip, “Stop! I know! I’m so sad!”

I wanted to wait until the conversation was over to look down the bar, to see if even a fragment of what I was saying had affected him. But, I didn’t need to wait. Oliver had flinched. He literally flinched.

“Yeah, me, too,” Adam touched my hand. “Why so soon? I thought you were staying through August?”

“I was planning on it, but…they offered me a better position at the clinic I work at. I have to get home to start training,” I continued, a satisfied smirk teasing my mouth.

Cyrus lifted his glass, “Well, there’s nothing to be sad about, then! To your new job.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” the smirk slipped into a genuine smile. I really would miss these guys, but my drunken, stupid mind wasn’t thinking about that. I wanted more from Oliver. I wanted a white flag or a look or a…fuck, I wanted him.

I pushed, “I’ll really miss you guys. Max, with your corny-ass pick-up lines, Adam’s mom vibes, Cy’s ability to knock back more drinks than fucking- I don’t know, Spider-man, and not get drunk? Shit’s insane.”

I drank in the laughter for a moment, eyes lingering down the bar to Oliver. Then, I added a name to my list and narrowed my gaze, “Oliver,” he wouldn’t look. “With your need to ignore me in every room we’re in. I’ll really miss your cold fucking shoulder.”

Any laughter that may have hung onto our past moment faded. I heard Max take a sharp breath in through his teeth. Adam pressed his lips together. Cyrus looked over his shoulder at their friend. I didn’t know if he really knew, but he had to understand just a little bit. The vibes were always there. We thought we were sneaky, but we were so sickly up each other’s asses. We’d even run into Cyrus and Adam in the hallway that one time. I guess we were all really good at being hopefully fucking stupid and blind.

I leaned on my palm and stared that man down. I watched as he kept his chin, pointed ahead, like he was playing brave in the situation. His Adam's apple bobbed. Oliver clutched his glass, swung it back, slugged the liquid down. Slammed it back on the counter. Then, he stood up, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and threw a wad of bills onto the bar. He adjusted his hoodie and left.

I was dizzy. I stuttered back a step. Max touched my wrist, murmuring something or the other about heading back upstairs. Telling me I was too drunk.

I felt slow, felt dizzy, felt scared, felt angry, felt sad. I felt so sad. I felt so angry and so sad and…

And, my eyebrows furrowed in anger, the shock erasing itself from my frame. I took a deep, drunken breath and followed his trail. Fast. Legs pumping, arms swinging at my sides.

He was at the elevator, looking down at his shoes. I couldn’t get his name out. I think if I did the tears were going to fall out, The sobs were going to ricochet through my whole body and knock me over and kill me and I’d die and I’d never get to see that dumb asses blue eyes any more. Ever again. I wanted to see his blue eyes again. I wanted him to look at me and see me for what he sees me as. I wanted him to touch my hip and wring my neck and tell me I was the only one he wanted. I’d take it. One more time, then he could go back to her. I just wanted a goodbye.

He was stepping into the elevator. The doors were closing. I jammed a hand between and he flinched, again.

I stepped in just as the doors began to shut again. His eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them. He was frozen. Frowning. He looked…sad.

I almost reached a hand out, almost caressed his cheek and pulled him into me. But, I didn’t. Instead, I said (yelled?), “What the fuck is your problem?”

He stammered, “Wha-what?”

I struggled to repeat myself. I needed to cry. It was going to open. But, for another moment, the anger took over, “You fucking heard me. What is your problem, Oliver? What the fuck did I do to deserve this kind of shit? I don’t wanna hear more sad excuses about your fucking mental health and your-your fucking anxiety. God, I- I fucking…I don’t even k- you fucking ignored me back there! I looked right at you and I said your name and I smiled at you and…I’ve been so nice to you. I’ve been nice to you all summer and you treat me like a piece of fucking shit. God, I’ve…I’ve told you so much. I told you about my mom and…and you laid there and you told me all this bullshit about how much you liked me! And then you…youre a fucking-”

I cut myself off, out of breath. I was sweating a little bit. I think I had spit a few times. And I paced the elevator so much that I was flush against the wall. I leaned my shoulders back against the cool metal, wringing my hands, tugging at my hair.

He didn’t say anything. I breathed, hard, I thought, long. I kept thinking, and I kept getting angrier. I turned back to him, rearing up again. I had more to say, I just, I just needed to get some more concise- more thoughtful thoughts, right, exactly. Yes. I can…

“And who the fuck is F-”

“Daisy.”

There it was, my name. It was my name, soft and angelic, and holy. And a moment on his lips that he carved out of time and held a space for, for me to hear.

I stopped. I felt nothing for a moment. I looked at him and he was already waiting to see my eyes. My bottom lip wobbled.

“You’re obviously upset. And, drunk. Why don’t we talk about this in the morning? We can both get some rest.” He was always so good at two very distinct things: pushing stuff (people) aside and speaking to me in a way that felt like a cloud was wrapping itself around me. Like the cloud wanted me to lay in its arm and would coo me to sleep. Like I was safe and loved and-

Loved.

He made me feel loved.

I straightened up a bit at the thought. I pointed an accusatory finger at him, “Who the fuck is Fiona? What the fuck was that all about? Oliver, I’m not going to stand here and beg for you to love me. Or beg for you to come back to me. I just want a goddamn apology. For wasting my time, for playing with my fucking heart. For stringing me along. You knew-”

The tears came. Perfect timing. “You fucking know that I love you. You have known for a very long time. And you are an idiotic fool if you still don’t believe it. But I am not going to play this game with you. I told you that already and now I seriously mean it. I broke my back this summer to make sure that I was who you wanted me to be. So I was cool and chill and could take as much space as you wanted me to. I went with everything you asked of me, I was there when you needed a warm body. I comforted you and…and tried to fucking fix you like I knew you wanted me to. But, I am done. I am done with this. I am done-”

My voice cracked. I swiped an angry, shaking hand across my face. Vision blurred. “I am done with you. This is ridiculous. I don’t know if you meant to, but you have manipulated this situation so that you have been the one benefiting. I’m tired of letting you think you’re some broken, sad puppy dog on the side of the road that needs to be taken care of. Grow the fuck up. And, now I find out that there’s some other woman? That I- I’m the other woman, maybe? That you’re cheating on her with me? That I’m your fucking slut? Side hoe?”

I had paced again, this time, towards him. He was taller than me, but my anger was making me taller. He was almost…cowering. I pointed my finger again, nearly chest to chest with him.

“Fuck you, Oliver. Fuck you and fuck London and fuck your stupid fucking music.”

The doors opened, on our floor. I walked out, but turned to face him before he was really gone from me. I wanted to see his eyes one last time.

He was crying. I popped an arm into the door again, buying myself more time to kick him while he was down. I thought this would bring me closure. I thought I’d feel better if he knew, truly knew, the entirety. Every thought. Every hurt I felt.

“You asked me at the beginning of the summer what I was searching for. I thought that it was you. And I thought that I had found you.”

I shook my head sadly. The doorbell on the elevator rang. I stepped back, “I was right. There is no deeper meaning. Goodbye, Oliver.”

I stood there for a second, as though I could still see his blue eyes, boring through the metal doors.

Then, I sludged my way to my hotel room. I opened the door, shoulders slumped, body aching. I knew my makeup was smeared all over my face. My hair was wrecked. I couldn’t stop sniffling or whimpering. I walked into the room.

Sam sat up in his bed. Ronnie was beside him. I barely made it two more steps before Sam caught me in his arms.

–

The sky was gray. The weather in Europe usually was, especially up here on this side of the continent. I wasn’t surprised when, on our drive to the airport, it started spitting rain. I shivered underneath the cover of my hoodie, yet walked slowly through the entrance.

I remember when I had first dropped down in London, wide-eyed, hopeful. I think it had been raining then, too. But, I hadn’t cared. Come to think of it, it was raining pretty much everyday we had been in London.

Oliver was right about a couple things.

Back then, just three months ago, I hadn’t cared about the sun’s shadow curving from behind the clouds, nor did I mind that it was usually quite chilly outside. Now, I felt anger, annoyance at the weather, at the people, at the world.

At him. The stupid weight of my suitcase. The drag in my step. The wetness of my clothes and the chill of the wind.

I felt older, in the worst way. I was a different age, considering my birthday had passed while I’d been here. But, I felt old in a way that was draining. I felt like I had wasted so much time, energy, and all I had left were weary bones and sadness. Just how much I had left, I didn’t know. But I did know that as soon as I got back home, I would be rotting in my bed for a day or two.

Sam, Max, and Ronnie came to the airport early with me. My flight time had been pulled forward by an hour, so I needed to get here sooner than I thought. I wasn’t complaining, though. I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of the hotel. Out of here. Out of London.

I hurried the process of packing my last few things. Stuffed my breakfast down my throat. Impatiently waited in the taxi, knee bouncing, as Sam and Max loaded the trunk with all of our things. Ronnie slid in beside me and became the first reason that I cried that day.

She reared a look over her shoulder, out the back window, to check on Max and Sam. Then, with an awkward sigh, she turned her knees towards me, “Peaches?”

I glanced up from my lap and the bounce of my knee slowed, “Yeah?”

Upon noticing the somber gaze in her eyes, my brows furrowed. “What’s up?” I added, fully presenting her my full attention.

Ronnie rubbed her nose in a seemingly nervous manner, “I just wanted to say…um, ew. Sorry.”

I softly giggled at her disgust with whatever sentence she was trying to form. “What is it?”

She finally met my eye in a fervently forward manner, “I usually have fun on tour. But this summer was…it was extra special. Getting to know you has been…so cool. I don’t know. I just…I love you, Daisy. You’ve become like a sister to me.”

I couldn’t help but feel the tears well up in my eyes. “Oh, Ronnie,” I sniffled, hugging her around the shoulders.

She pulled me close to her and I swear I heard her sniffle a bit, too. “I’m sorry for not noticing what was happening. I should’ve been there for you more. I got caught up in my own-”

“Don’t even apologize,” I reared back with my reply, “No. It’s nobody’s fault. I’m not even blaming myself for what happened. It was a stupid, weird situation. It was my responsibility to come to you if I needed help. I just needed…I just need to go home now.”

Ronnie smiled a sad, peaceful smile. “I hope I get to see you again soon. I don’t know what I will do without your bright light.”

“Oh, you will. You guys will be in the US soon. Sam said he was gonna drop by. I am positive you’ll be there, too,” I dropped a sly wink.

Ronnie watched my face for a moment, “I mean, of course you know now. But…” she narrowed her eyes, grinning in shocked realisation, “Fucker. You knew the whole time?!”

“Of course I knew the whole time. Sam is-” I snorted, “Sam is not hiding his lovesick, puppy-dog eyes.”

Ronnie’s gaze widened slightly, “I-”

The doors of the taxi popped open as the boys joined us, Max in the back on my other side, Sam in the front. He saw our laughing, secretive expressions in the rearview mirror and turned back. “What are you two doing?”

I brushed my hands across my cheeks to clear whatever tears might’ve been rolling still, then shook my head. “Nothing, Sam-Ham.”

He turned his eyes to Ronnie and tilted his chin forward. She shrugged, a smug smile contorting her once saddened face. Ronnie dropped a wink, “Nothing at all.”

The second person to make me cry was Max. Out of everyone, he was probably my best friend at this point. We had spent so much time together, out drinking, dancing, holed up in my hotel room with trays of room service, movies on the tv. He had been there through one of the most terrifying, exhilarating, strange summers of my life. We were bonded forever, now. I could feel it.

He was helping me check in while Sam and Ronnie headed to drop off our baggage. They were all just planning on hanging for the extra hour until it was time to check in for their flight. I was grateful they all wanted to sacrifice the time for me. To them, though, I knew it was second nature.

Some people made it easy, loving me.

I shook away the thoughts because the attendant was handing me my ticket. She reiterated boarding time, twenty minutes from now, and wished me a safe flight. “Thank you,” I nodded before turning back to Max.

The tall blonde was watching me. I could tell he was on the verge of tears from just the way that his shoulders shrugged forward. It made my heart swell, knowing how much of an impact I had had on them.

He tried to straighten up as I looked him in the eye. Then, he opened his mouth to say something. I threw myself into his arms before he could. Hugging me tight, Max brushed a hand down the back of my head.

“Oh, sweet, lovely angel. I am going to miss you so.”

I didn’t need to hear anything else to start crying into his chest. Max felt the rock of my shoulders and sniffled into my hairline. “Don’t start, love. I won’t be able to stop, myself,” he chuckled shortly.

We stood like that for a few minutes, maybe more, before I stepped back. I rubbed my eyes on the inside of my sweatshirt, knowing my face was flushed and probably swelling. Max touched his fingers to my wrists and gently brushed aside my hands. He took in my visage, so delicately, and sighed. “Can I just say…”

“Oh, no!” I exclaimed through a sob. More tears fell.

Max rubbed my shoulders, “No, no, no, love. It’s okay. No more tears, okay? We’ll be okay. Just…I just want- I need to tell you how important you are. I know you’re going to go home and things are going to start to settle and you’re going to start to think so many things about yourself. You are so easy to love, Daisy. It is like breathing to me, to Ronnie, to Sam, Sasha. It is breathing. And you are worthy of it, too. That’s all. I just…I just needed to tell you, okay?”

I didn’t say anything else. I just whimpered and pulled him in closer to me.

Sam was the worst.

Since the evening before, when I had broken down in his arms and told him, through my blubbering, a short synopsis of what had happened, we hadn’t spoken much. I didn’t know if it was simply because we didn't have enough time. But, I was feeling worse because of it.

I needed my big brother more than anybody else. Sam knew me better than anybody else, even if we hadn’t been around each other as often as we used to. He still understood me. We shared the same blood, for God’s sake.

Yet, as we sat there, in the waiting area of my plane’s gate, he didn’t even look at me. He stared down at the floor, hands folded in his lap. He sat across from Ronnie, Max, and I, making it known that he wanted nothing to do with the conversation. When he first sat there, the aisle a wide gap between us, I furrowed my brows. But, then, Ronnie and Max striked up some topic that I invested myself and my attention into.

It didn’t seem like that big of a deal until they called for me. I stood up, faster than I should’ve, to be honest, and began to gather my things. Phone, bag, jacket, passport. I ran the list over in my head, three times over.

All the while, Sam slowly stood, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and watched his feet as he scuffed his sneakers across the carpeted floor.

I passed my eyes over him for a moment, holding my breath. Surely, my brother would have something to say to me.

He didn’t make a move.

I began walking the short distance to my gate. Before I moved to get in line, though, I turned back to my friends. Max jumped for a hug first, barely allowing me enough time to fully settle back on my heels. I dug my feet into the ground to gain traction as his ginormous body came toppling into my arms. Ronnie joined in the hug yet struggled to toss her arms over Max’s tall frame. He adjusted as we all shared a laugh and tucked her in beside me.

He called over his shoulder, voice muffled, “Get in here, Sam-Ham!”

I heard my brother elicit a laugh. It felt refreshing to hear. Then, I felt the hug grow tighter as he joined in on Max’s other side. We didn’t stay like that for long. It was stuffy and I wasn’t getting much air.

So, I tapped Max’s back and said, “Alright. Let me go.”

I gave individual hugs to everybody, voicing my own grateful, somewhat short, goodbyes.

Then, I turned to my brother. He evaded my eye contact for a moment or two. Then he pulled me in. Tight.

Out of nowhere, “I’m sorry if he ruined your summer.”

Tensing up from the words, the mention of him, I slowly pulled back from Sam’s embrace. He held onto my back, sort of cradling me. The guilt lying in his eyes was far worse than anything I’d ever seen flash across his face. My own gaze softened from the taut expression it had anxiously contorted to.

“What?” I breathily inquired, unsure if I had heard him correctly, saddened that he was obviously carrying so much hurt from my stupid mistakes. “Why? Sam, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, Daz, I just…” Sam’s arms fell from around me. I missed the warmth as soon as the chill of the vast room settled in around my sweatshirt. He ran a veiny hand across his forehead, “I'm supposed to be there for you. Protect you. And I already suck at the first part.”

“Sam,” I grasped his wrist, slipping his fingers between my hands. “It’s not your fault. It’s…honestly, if my summer was ruined, it was because of my own shitty decisions. Besides, you don’t suck at being there for me. I can’t believe you would even think that!”

I clasped his hand tight between mine, brows furrowed. To hear him blame himself, to hear him look this way…This whole summer, I had spent my time obsessing over somebody who didn’t even want me. I should have paid more attention to my brother, who was part of the reason I was here in the first place.

The farther I got from the start of this journey, literally and figuratively, the blurrier my original dreams became. There was no meaning to find here- only what was already there.

The thought made me lick my lips in nervous realisation.

Sam let out a frustrated, breathy chortle. “Don’t give me so much credit. I’ve been…gone. Running away from home. For so long. Worried about getting out of that apartment and town and away from…from anything that could remind me of her. Remind me of mom. I left you behind in the process.”

The wetness in my eyes began to pour over. “Oh, Sam,” my lips trembled out as I dove back into his arms. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as though an airplane would dive down and pull him away. I needed this. This kind of hug. This moment.

Clarity was nearer than ever before.

“Listen,” I pulled back, “I need you to understand, okay? My summer was not ruined. It wasn’t. This entire experience has been the most amazing, wonderful, awesome, cool time. I got to spend so much time getting to see you, getting to see your world. And, don’t ever blame yourself for getting away. You had to. I see it now- You had to come be a part of this wonderful band, go with them on all of their amazing tours. I see it on your face, Sam. This is what you’re supposed to do, okay? My mistakes are my own. Not yours.”

“I just…” Sam stared at the floor for a moment, tongue quick to go and defend his original claim But he paused and let the information process. “I…I just wish I could punch him in the face or something. What a douche. Dragging you into his mess. I should’ve known, too. The way he treated you- it was so obvious. For that, I am sorry, Daisy. I should’ve said something. Honestly,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I should beat his ass.”

Max and Ronnie, who had been trying to make it appear as though they were not eavesdropping, laughed at the last line. I opened up Sam and I’s moment by taking a step back. I gave them space to join us here. Ronnie clasped Sam’s hand and rested her head on his shoulder, “As funny as that would be, he is still your boss. And your bandmate,” she nodded to Max.

The tall blond rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Don’t worry. I’ll try to keep it civil.”

It was my turn to scold. I punched Max in the shoulder to gain his eye contact, “Don’t try. Just do it. He’s not a bad person. He just…sucks. A little bit.”

Talking about him, living in the truth of the situation, confronting all the dark realizations- it was a heavy weight to bear. I felt my shoulder slinking forward, as though I were Atlas with the dark, cloudy sky above me. Though I didn’t want to be rid of these three, I needed to be gone already. I needed to go before it all came crashing down again. I didn’t want anybody else to see me cry again. It was…embarrassing, to say the least.

So, I allowed one last hug from each of them and then turned towards my gate. I boarded the plane, mindlessly, going through all of the motions. Like I was used to leaving, like I was good at it. Like I was strong. But, I felt weak. I felt heavy and sad and angry and…

The city was gray. I remember it being sunny, summer-weather, though there had been a chill in the air. He always said it was. Maybe it always had been and I was…crazy. Wide-eyed. Desperate or naive or whatever.

But it was clear as day now, how dreary it looked from this airplane window. The wind whipped at the airline workers, shuffling luggage to their places, green vests billowing up. My breath fogged at the window which narrowed my pointed gaze. It seemed the plane was being pumped full of heat. I hadn’t realized it was that cold outside.

I guess fall was coming.

“Ladies and gentleman, this is your reminder to place your devices on airplane mode. We are approaching take-off,” a thick, European accent declared over the PA system.

I wrestled to retrieve my phone from my bookbag, which was squished in between my feet. When I was able to lift it towards me, the screen lit up. There was a buzz from the device that vibrated my hand then the appearance of a text message.

Oliver: Daisy, I need to tell you…

The message cut itself off, only the sneakpeek visible due to the system settings I had on my device.

It was ominous, though, like it had chosen to cut itself off there.

The tail end of that message could be- anything.

Daisy, I need to tell you…you’re a dumb bitch?

…I fucking hate you.

I love you?

Please, stay?

I don’t think I wanted to know.

My thumb hesitated over the screen, barely gracing it’s smooth glass. If I tapped on the message, if I saw what he said…would it change things?

Would it make me hate him even more?

Would it make me want to stay?

I didn’t want anything else to make my decisions anymore. I wanted to make my own choices, based on my own actions, thoughts. I was tired of living up to everybody’s image of me. If that was all I learned this summer, to be true to what I wanted, to be true to myself…then maybe this summer wasn’t so bad after all.

Maybe there had been something to find- maybe that something was me.

The shaking in my hands must’ve made the screen react to a ghost of my fingerprint. The option to scan my face ID came as soon as a flight attendant passed by my section, a bright smile on their face.

“Hi, friend! Did you put your device on airplane mode?” They asked with a slight gesture towards my phone.

I glanced back at the screen as she pointed. The message was open. That’s where it had ended, what Oliver had sent to me. “I need to tell you something.” But, he was still typing, still coming up with words to say.

My hands moved quickly, sliding down the menu and thumbing the airplane option. If he were still typing, I couldn’t see it anymore.

And any messages he may try to send would go green, undelivered, lost.

Forgotten, in the skies, somewhere between London and Germany, during the beginning of a cold, cold autumn.

[rcmclachlan]

2024 Tumblr Top 10

Tagged by the wonderful @liminalmemories21

How it works: Share your top 10 tumblr posts from last year! Visit this site, scroll down to "Find your Tumblr Top 10," type in your username, and select 2024. When you get the results, simply click "Share to Tumblr" and you'll get an auto-generated draft for a post with links and previews. Make any adjustments you see fit.

Surprising no one, all my top posts in 2024 were about BuckTommy. Here’s the breakdown:

1. Tommy’s just as insane as Buck (1,184 notes - Aug 15 2024)

This is probably my favorite post of the year, so I’m glad it’s sitting pretty at number one. Even after what we’ve learned about Tommy since I posted it, I still stand by it. There is no way Mr. Sure I’ll Fly Into A Hurricane On A Hunch is normal about anything.

2. Amnion (mpreg, 8x06 fix-it) (777 notes - Nov 9 2024)

This predated the mpreg tsunami that hit the fandom by about a week, but if you’ve been following me since April, you’ll know that dadvans and I had been surfing that wave all along. 

3. Season 4 alternate meeting (726 notes - Aug 10 2024)

I’ve got a list as long as my arm of ways Buck and Tommy could’ve met earlier, but the idea of “what if their paths crossed the day Buck learns about Daniel” grabbed onto my ankle like a mutant west highland white terrier and wouldn’t let go. 

It eventually became the fic Histocompatibility on AO3.

4. 8x05 spec fic ("Kiss me, Thomas!”) (704 notes - Oct 23 2024)

I wrote this after the first pictures of Buck’s face dropped a couple of days before the episode aired. At the time, we could only see one boil (I think the most popular theory was that a spider had laid eggs in his face, a la Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark), so I decided to have a little fun. 

Apologies to the people who were scarred for life after learning what a giant weta is. 

5. The 118-217 Shadow Summit headcanon (665 notes - Dec 29 2024)

A very late addition to the list! There I was with all these headcanons, still mourning the breakup and wishing the show had given us some cross-station shenanigans, when I realized I could solve all my problems with fic. Why would I try to get Buck and Tommy back together when the yahoos at the 118 and 217 could do it for me?

Then I took it a step further with this missing scene, which I had an absolute blast writing. These people are bonkers (to me).

6. “So? Tell me about the hot pilot.” (652 notes - Sep 13 2024)

I can never get enough of the Buckley siblings, and since the show finally gave us something substantial with 7x05, I decided to delve a little deeper into Buck and Maddie’s conversation about Buck’s bisexuality and the man responsible for opening his eyes to it. 

It eventually became the fic Table of Contents on AO3.

7. New Year’s Eve fix-it ficlet (651 notes - Jan 1 2025)

Okay, technically it shouldn’t be on the list because I posted it in the new year, but I wrote it a couple of hours before midnight while watching Wicked with friends, so I’m including it. It was a half-baked idea that became a half-baked fic, but it seemed like people enjoyed it, so I’m taking that energy into the new year!

8. More 8x05 spec fic (missing scene) (589 notes - Oct 24 2024)

Another fic that was born out of the episode previews, which allowed me to bring my 217 OCs out to play. All I kept thinking was, ‘What was going through these people’s heads when they heard dispatch say a body had been found at the 118? Probably something along the lines of: must be Tuesday.’ 

9. Pregnancy kink ficlet/headcanon (526 notes - Aug 29 2024)

No explanation necessary. 

10. Relative Value (499 notes - Jun 26 2024)

“Give me Uncle Tommy or give me death” has been my mantra since Tommy and Buck made out in front of God, country, and the entire First Presbyterian ER lobby. Also, it’s a headcanon of mine that all the 118 kids are obsessed with him, much to Tommy’s confusion and amusement. 

It eventually became Relative Value on AO3.

Well, this was a fun little retrospective! I can’t believe this dumb show pushed me out of writer’s block limbo as hard as it did, but I’m very grateful. 

Tagging: @dadvans, @screamlet, @epiphainie, @leashybebes, and @beanarie​​

[curliest-wash]

Seeing some MW OCs, I'd like to introduce mine.

He's actually an existing oc of mine but I've decided to put him in MW universe.

Originally, he was another intern who developed a familial bond with Curly but hm, I've decided... What if he's Curly's brother? Perhaps a stepbrother who Curly dotes on.

His name is Jeremy and I'm still figuring out his age and the story behind him! I will absolutely write an intro for him once I'm done figuring things out.

And also working on my AU too.

[loki-licious-945ad]

The Auction

Summary: Prince Loki hosts auctions for desperate, rich, old, men and women who need some help with their desires. Loki never bids. No one ever piqued his interest. Until he sees you. So cute. So innocent. So his.

Pairing: Dark!Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2363

Warnings: 18+, Innocent kink, virginity selling, cheatingish, knife kink, oral(f receiving), praise, degrading, light slapping (thighs, arms), cumming inside, squirting, foul language obviously, iron mentioned (not detailed), nipple sucking, masturbation, grinding, blindfold mentioned. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Also this is my first fic so please be nice. I worked really hard on this! If you don't like dark fics then find another fic to read. I put warnings for a reason. Read at your own risks.

Songs I listened to/used as inspo as i wrote.

Post that got my brain going.

Loki never bid. Even in the auctions he hosted. No one ever piqued the prince's interest. He only hosted these for the older upper class. The old, desperate men and women who needed something to deal with their desires. The auctions were also for a good cause to a point. The poor would sell their virginity for money. They use the money so they can lead a bit of a better life, but for the expense of their virginity.

Loki sits on Odin’s throne, watching over the auction. The throne room is dim; except for the stage that is lit with torches. The virgins come in many different shapes and sizes. Some have more revealing outfits than others. The more revealing the better. Right?

Wrong. The majority of the bidders like to have more clothing on their virgins. It’s like a present waiting to be opened. A sweet present.

One after the next virgins are sold in Loki’s auction. Some are far more interesting than the others. All bids start at 2,000 Asgardian coins. Loki starts to get bored of his own auction. The auction is so deplorable he starts to drift off to sleep on the throne.

As he begins to finally fall into slumber a big roar from the bidders startles him awake. Bidders start to caterwaul bids. A woman stands, “2,500 coins!”

A man interrupts, “5,000 coins!”

Loki watches as one after the next bid for a woman. A beautiful, perfect, innocent woman. Such a perfect virgin. His virgin. No one has piqued his interest. So why this one?

The bid gets higher and higher. Until Loki can’t bear it anymore, “Half a million coins!”

Everyone looks back at Loki with a gasp. They know Loki never bids. Even the ones up for auction know that. Everyone is surprised to see Loki stalk his long legs up to the stage. The bidders watch silently as Loki stomps up onto the stage, throws you over his strong shoulder, and announces, “The auction is over with. Leave at once.”

You squeal as he throws you over his shoulder. He strides out of the throne room and towards his chambers with you over his shoulder. Why does he want to fuck you so badly? Never faltering as he walks through the halls of the palace. Servants and guards bow their heads towards Loki. Even under the odd circumstances, they know not to question Loki and the woman he is carrying. You swear everyone can hear your heartbeat. The prince. The prince of Asgard. He bid half a million on you. You.

As if Loki could hear your thoughts he interrupts them, “You are going to regret selling your virginity. You are mine, darling. You will be my toy,” he chuckles lowly, “and sweet thing I can hear your thoughts. No secrets from your God.”

Loki throws you on his plush bed. Only a bed a prince would have. You hadn’t even noticed that he walked into his chambers. You lie in a four-poster bed made out of wood with gold woven into the wood. Interesting. Exotic furs lay over the bed as well as the richest silks. Bookshelves line the walls. Weapons of all sorts, mostly daggers. Unique art and tall windows adorn the walls.

“You think too much darling. Too observant. Shall I put a blindfold on those lovely eyes? hm~?” You whimper out a ‘no’ as you face your head back to Loki. You whimper once more as you see how he towers over you as you lay, on his bed, on your back.

“Agreed. It would be a shame to hide those pretty eyes of yours, because you’re too nosy,” Loki smiles darkly down at your smaller frame, still laying on his bed. “Sweet little virgin~ Why is it that you decided to sell this pretty little virgin cunt?”

You stammer over your words, but eventually get them out, “I needed money for my boyfriend. He needs it.”

“Mmm… Darling if your boyfriend really needed it he could have sold his virginity,” Loki places his knees on the bed between your legs. Loki traps you between his arms as he looks down at you. “Something tells me that he has already lost it, so he has to use you for money. What a sad man. Good thing you’re mine now.”

Loki watches as you try to wiggle out from under him, but he just presses his body into yours. “Come on darling, don’t run from me. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you sold your virginity,” he presses you deeper into the bed sheets, his lips just above yours. His cock pressed against your cunt. You let out a soft whimper from his weight.

“Tell me darling. Have you ever seen a cock? Touched one? Dreamed of one day being fucked?” Loki moves to kiss your jaw. He loves the noises you make. So innocent. So pure. So his. He nips at your jaw to force an answer out of you.

You let out a whimper as he nips your jaw. “Yes! I’ve seen one… never touched… I’ve dreamed of it many times…” Loki chuckles as you admit you’ve dreamed about being fucked. Even saw one.

“Such a naughty girl. Don’t worry darling, you'll forget about your boyfriend and those dreams. Especially since you’ll be on my cock,” Loki sucks a dark mark into your neck. He can feel your pulse quicken as he does so. Loki grinds his cock down on your panty covered cunt. You whimper once more.

“You will call me ‘My God’. Do you understand darling?” He stands once he is satisfied that you understand him. He stares down at you. Your dress has ridden up around your hips exposing your wet panties, “Looks like someone has enjoyed themselves.” He continues to stare down at you. Your hair frames your face perfectly as you lay against his sheets. Dress creased from Loki’s grinding. Legs spread. Loki glares at you as you try to close your legs from his prying eyes. He slaps your thigh.

“Don’t you dare. Do you understand me!?” Loki pulls your legs apart, he drops to his knees, and pulls you to the edge of his plush bed.

“Yes- yes, My God,” You gasp and stutter as he pulls you closer to the edge. “Good darling. Such a good girl for her God.”

Loki knows it's over the top, but he loves the power he has over you. Loki summons a dagger to cut your panties off, throwing them to the side. Loki growls as you shut your legs once more. Loki drags his dagger across your right thigh. “Naughty girl. You were being good… Darling if you don’t open these beautiful legs I’ll fuck you with the dagger,” though Loki would only use the handle of the blade, but what you don’t know won’t hurt you. He chuckles as you open your legs quickly. Exposing your cunt. Pink, dripping, and so needy. Loki hoists your thighs over his shoulders. He drags his dagger over your thighs. The dagger drags over the mound of hair you have, then over your puffy clit softly. Loki chuckles as he hears a whimper that’s mixed with pain and pleasure. Loki sets the dagger aside. Without warning he wraps his hands around your thighs, then stuffs his face in your dripping cunt. Sucking on your puffy clit.

“Oh my God!” Loki moans with you. Your taste is one he’ll never forget. He’s keeping you. He’ll fuck every thought of your boyfriend out of your brain. Even as he eats your delicious cunt. Sucking and tongue fucking he still manages to let a few words out, “Yes darling I am your God.”

You arch your cunt closer to his face as you grip onto the silk sheets and furs on his bed. Loki chuckles as you arch your greedy cunt closer to his face. He doesn't blame you. He is a God with a great mouth. A silver-tongued God. He loves how greedy your virgin cunt is. He nips and rolls your clit between his teeth. He moans as he feels your hands shoot to his head and into his dark locks. This only spurs him on. Gods he’s so hard. He laps at your clit, sucking and licking. He then tongue fucks your cunt. He loves the way your virgin cunt clenches around his tongue. His nose nudges at your clit with every thrust of his tongue. Your moans start to get louder, your grip on his head tightens, your thighs do so too.

All you can moan is ‘Oh God’ and ‘Oh My God’. Loki moves back up to your clit. Sucking your clit between his lips. He knows you're close. He knows you're about to cum. 

An unfamiliar feeling rises higher and higher in your stomach. It finally snaps. Your back arches even more. Plump thighs squeezing his head. Hands pulling his dark tresses. Your moans mix with the sound of Loki’s cunt devouring. All you can see are stars. This is bliss. Loki continues to devour your cunt as you cum. Loki laps at your sweet cunt until you can’t take it anymore. Before Loki stands he kisses your swollen clit making you whimper. 

With a flick of his hand, both of your clothes are gone. His cock standing proudly, just like him. Loki glares at you as you try to cover yourself with the silk blankets. He swats at your arms. Loki gives a mischievous smile as you move up the bed towards the pillows. He starts to jerk his cock. The tip of his cock dripping with precum. He loves the way you watch with fear and arousal. You’ve pressed your back against his headboard. Trying to escape him and his cock, “Oh darling you can’t run. You are mine. I own you now.”

Loki loves the way you look at him in fear as he jerks his cock. He can hear your thoughts. You’re worried about that stupid boyfriend. Loki releases his cock, climbing in the middle of the bed, his cock bobbing as he moves. He grabs your ankles. He loves the way you gasp when he yanks you down the bed. Your back hitting the bed makes you squeak. Your tits bounce as you hit the bed. Loki is kneeling between your thighs. Those pretty thighs of yours are wide open and no way to close them because of Loki. Your cunt so pink and wet. Precum drips from Loki’s cock onto your cunt. All you can do is whimper at the feeling. Loki rubs the head of his cock over your clit, smearing his precum with your arousal. Small moans come from your mouth. Little begs. For what? You don’t even know. Loki pulls your ass on his thighs. Your back arched so beautifully. Those legs of yours over his strong shoulders. His long cock lays over your cunt, “Oh darling~ You’ll be ruined for any other man. This pretty, virgin cunt will only want my cock. No one will satisfy you like me.”

The head of his cock is positioned at your cunt. As he pushes the head of his cock in, you let out the most delicious moans. Cunt clenching his tip so well. “Darling you’re so tight. I hope you’ll be able to take my whole cock,” he grins as you let out a whimper. “Don’t worry darling I’ll make it fit. One way or another.”

A loud, mischievous, laugh sounds through his chambers as he bottoms out, loving the loud moan you let out. Mixed with pain and pleasure. “By the norns- You were definitely worth that half a million- So damn tight,” Loki thrust a few times loving your moans, “Looks like your God popped your cherry. What a sweet treat. What a sweet present.” The smell of sex and iron waft through the air of Loki’s chambers. The thrusts become faster, harder, and deeper. Loki watches as your eyes roll back, hands gripping the bed sheets, tits bouncing as he fucks you hard. Fuck. Within a second Loki has your knees bent into your chest. His strong hands pressing down on your plump thighs. Squelching sounds from your cunt through the chambers. Moans so loud that the whole palace can hear, no doubt. The bed creaks and hits the wall of his chambers. Loki continues to hammer into you, he groans as he hits your g-spot. Your back is arching against your legs and his body. Your cunt clenches repeatedly on his cock, “My God~,” your mouth gaped open with sweet moans. Eyes rolled back. You could probably see your own brain if Loki hadn’t fucked it out already.

“By the norns you look like a Goddess. My Goddess,” Loki throws his head back with a groan as he feels you clench even harder at his praise. He bends down to latch onto one of your nipples. Sucking and nipping at it. Hitting your g-spot even harder with the new position. Fuck. His pubic hairs rub up against your clit. Skin slapping loudly. He knows you’re going to cum. He’s about to cum. His balls tighten. He wants to make you cum first.

“Oh my God!” Loki moves from your nipple, watching as you moan and jerk from the immense pleasure. Like a damn painting. He’s definitely painting this later. Cunt clamping down on his cock. FUCK. Did you just squirt? Loki couldn’t hold back anymore. He cums. Balls deep, with a loud moan. The feeling of Loki cumming deep in your cunt makes you moan. You both are seeing stars. Are we both in Valhalla? Loki finally stills. Cock still twitching in your cunt that is still clenching.

Loki gives his signature mischievous smile as he looks down at you, “Oh darling. You squirted on me. What a mess. You really enjoyed the fucking? Hm?”

You try to apologize, Loki shushes you, “Oh sweet girl I wasn’t complaining. It means you’re hydrated. Such a good girl.” Loki pulls out of you. He gazes at your dripping cunt.

“Since I’ll be keeping you. What’s your name?”

[thatgenericwriter]

Bedazzled || Gregory House

Paring: Gregory House x fem!reader

Summary: who would have thought an angel would be so comfortable hanging around the devil

Warnings: none

Word Count: 0.7k

p.s. based on a request by anonymous

P.s.s. takes place around the first few seasons

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

When you first walked into House's office everyone was convinced you were lost, but when you walked up to House and started to talk with him without hesitating, no one knew what to think.

The ducklings watched in shock as the head of the pediatrics department, a person who could accurately be described as the kindest person in the hospital, casually chatted away with House.

You paid them no mind as you continued to talk with House who watched in amusement as you vibrantly describe to him one of your patient's symptoms, your bracelets clinking against each other as you wave your hands around rapidly.

The ducklings quickly pretend to be working on something as you and House walk through the adjoining door. You greet all of them by pulling out a handful of candy from one of your lab coat's pockets and placing it on the table. "Hi! I'm y/n and I'm the head of the pediatrics department! Here is a token of my appreciation for helping me with this patient!" You smile at all of them before taking a seat at the head of the table.

As you settle in you miss the looks of confusion and shock that passes everyone's faces. Once you're comfortable you swivel towards House. "Take it away boss man!" The ducklings swear they see a hint of a smile on his face before he starts to go over the case details.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

You had first met House in the cafeteria after accidentally spilling your drink all over him. You quickly started to apologize before digging your monster truck themed tissues out of your bag and offering to him. The next time you were in the cafeteria line a brand new pack of monster truck tissues appeared on your tray.

You and House had been eating lunch with each other for a month before you had asked him for help. Leading to the funnest four days you ever had.

When you were not trying to save a kid's life, you were helping House bedazzled his pill bottles, decorating his cane with goofy stickers, and pulling pranks on Wilson.

His team watched in pure shock as House allowed you to do all these things to him without a single snarky comment or rude gesture. They had come to the conclusion that you were magical. That was the only explanation for why House was so nice to you.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once the case was over, you bid your goodbyes to the team leaving them with yet another pile of candy and a special friendship bracelet for each of them.

After thanking everyone once more you feel a tug on the back of your shirt and turn to see House gesturing you towards his conjoining office. You walk through the door and hear the blinds close from behind you, effectively blocking the ducklings' view of you both.

"If you're feeling left out don't worry! I made you a bracelet too!" You hold up his bracelet along with the matching one on your wrist. "Yours is extra special cuz it matches mine!"

"I don't want your friendship bracelet." You look up at House with a disappointed look on your face. "Oh." Sadly you avert your gaze away from him.

You feel his hand under your chin before you're being forced to look at him. "I don't want your friendship bracelet because I don't want to be just friends with you."

Your eyes widen in surprise and you open your mouth to respond, but House's lips are on yours before any sound gets out. Quickly, you kiss back tilting your head slightly to deepen it. A muffled moan leaves your lips before you are shocked out of the kiss by the sound of the blinds opening.

You quickly move away from House only to see Cameron and Foreman handing Chase cash. "They were betting on us!" You march towards the door and watch as the three ducklings speedily try to leave the room.

"Nuh uh! All of you sit down right now!" All of them sit down at the table as you walk up to Chase. "Money. Now." You stick your hand out and Chase places the money in your hands before looking down at the table shamefully.

You giggle before yelling over your shoulder to House. "Lunch is on me, babe!" 

[darthannie]

purpose statement

part two of thesis statement

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader

Summary: After spending the night at your professor’s house, you’re left wondering what the hell you’re gonna do next.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is 24, Jim is 43), morning sex, kissing, praise, dom!Jim, p in v, oral, budding d/s relationship(?)

a/n: I’m back. Kinda! I'll make a post about it! But, here's part two of thesis statement! Read the first one if you'd like. Jim english professor confirmed (to me lol). I might turn this into a series but I'm not too sure yet. This one ends with kind of a cliffhanger, so there might be a part three. Anywho, enjoy!

A leg drapes over yours.

A hand grabs your stomach.

Warm air hits the back of your neck.

His nose softly brushes across your shoulder as he presses a kiss there. And all through this, you’re just barely awake. You sigh into the feeling, pressing your back against his chest. You didn’t know what time it was, and you couldn’t care less. He tightend his embrace. You try to scoot closer to him as if that was even possible. You wanted to be completely engulfed by him. You had a ton of questions, but for now, you were mute. This was as good as it was going to get. After a minute, you manage to turn around and face him before burying youself in his chest.

“Mornin’”, he sighs. 

“Ugh, what time is it?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” He kisses the top of your head as silence settles around the both of you. 

“What’s going through your head?”, he asks. 

“Why were you in the shop that day?”

“Well… It was part dare and part curiosity. And another part of me wanted to try out a toy for the first time.”

“You left in quite a rush.”

“Well, yes a certain student graced me with her presence.”

You blush and meet his eyes, remembering the interaction. “Did you go back?”

“Oh, no.” he chuckles. 

“Why not.”

“I have my toy right here.”

“Jim…”, I said faining annoyance and rolling my eyes at him

“Sorry, sorry that was lame. However, you have to admit it’s true,” his voice darkens, “Are you gonna go home and touch yourself or would you rather have the real thing?”

Your breath hitched. “I-I’d rather have the real thing.” You placed your hand on his chest as if to confirm his existance. He was real and you were indeed in bed with him. In bed with your professor. 

He kissed your forehead, “Right. That’s exactly right… Class is cancelled by the way.” He said it so matter-of-factly. Like it was as easy as that. And, apparently, it was. 

“Check your email.”

You rolled over and grabbed your phone that was magically plugged into a charger, Jim’s doing. You opened up your email and there it was. Among spam emails about the latest 20% off sale at the campus store was an email from Jim. 

“Due to unforeseen circumstances, class today is cancelled. See you all next week ready to work. Best, Jim”

You dropped your phone on the bed. “Jim… What? Why?”

“Because I would rather spend my day in bed with a beautiful woman.” He pulled you into a kiss. “Is that a crime?”

“Well, I just thought-“ You’re cut off by a hand reaching down to you hip. His other hand squeezes between the mattress and your body. You yelp as he guides you to straddle him. You help him along and he looks up at you, teasing you as he cocks his head to the side. “You thought what?”

Your hands lay on his chest. You feels him hard under you. “I thought it was a one night thing. I thought that was it.”

“Oh, no, love I meant it when I said you were mine. I mean. If you want to be of course.”

“What like a friends with benefits situation?”

He tilted his head side to side as if weighing his options. “Yeah, something like that.”

You jaw unhinged to speak but no sound came out. You sat back on his lap, feeling him dig into you a bit more. He spoke before you could muster anything up, “You don’t have to make a decision right now. I don’t want to force you into any type of arrangement or anything. However-“

“However,” you grinded your hips, “what?”

He held in a groan, “However, I really want to be inside you right now, love… Please…” His hands rested on your thighs and he lifted his hips to show you how much he wanted it. He pulled you down into a kiss and wrapped his arms around you. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled him away to make room. You moved down to kiss his neck. His breath got caught in his throat as you liked a stripe up his neck and reached down under the covers. He let out a hiss as your hand went under his underwear and wrapped around his cock. 

“How are you already so hard?” You woke up ready to tease and he only bucked his hips up in response as you released him.

“Baby, please-“

“Please what?”

He moaned again. “I need-“

“Need what?”

He exhaled, “Fuck.” He flipped her over so she was on her back. He hungrily kissed her neck and nipped at her ear. He grabs onto one of her tits and feels the weight of it in your hand. He moves down to suck on it as she moan his name. He pulls back up and kisses your lips. “Tell me I can take what I want.”

“Jim, I-“

“Tell me, love. Tell me I can take whatever I want.”

You have never been more turned on in your life. You looked him in the eye and say “You can take whatever you want.”

You didn’t even realize he was lining himself up with your wet hole. He plunged into you right as you finished your sentence. He moves in slow thrusts and focuses on you, wanting to see take in you expression. 

He looks down at your body. He wants nothing more than to worship every inch. Everything about this is wrong. It should have been avoided at all costs, but instead of focusing on that he focuses on draging his hand the curve of you hips. He focuses on how your breast fits perfectly in his hand. He focuses on the taste of your lips. It doesn’t matter how wrong this is. He wants all of you.

You’re sweating. Your hair is messy. Nothing about you is put together, and he thinks you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you are so fucking gorgeous.” He kissed her right as he finished his sentence. 

“You’re amazing,” he kissed your cheek, “and you’re a damn good writer.”

He whispered the last part into your ear and kissed your neck. Your giggle turned into a moan as you felt him shift to a new spot inside of you, suddenly hitting where you needed him most.  A groan left him as he repositioned himself, thrusting harder and moving to cup your face. Desperate. He was desperate for you.

You pulled him closer to you, needing to feel his body against yours again. He picked up the pace when your fingers laced through his hair, guiding his mouth to your neck. Your other hand firmly held is arm to brace yourself for an orgasm that has yet to come. He nipped at your neck, careful not to leave marks. All the sensations at once motivated you to let go of his arm and reach for your clit. He chuckled and removed your hand from between your bodies, earning him a whimper. He pinned your arm above your head. 

“Ask me.” You only whimpered in response. 

“Go ahead, use your words. Ask me.“

A quiet “please” was all you could utter. 

“Please, what? Please stop?” he said as he slowed his pace. 

“No!” 

“Then, what? What do you want to do, love?”

“I want to rub my clit while you fuck me.” You spoke barely above whisper and he heard you, but it didn’t matter. He wanted you to beg. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

You groaned, growing more needy and annoyed as every second passed. “Please…”

“Say it, babygirl.” He thrust suddenly. Hard and deep.  

“Ah! Please, let me rub my clit while you fuck me. Please, please, please!” 

He grinned and gripped your wrist. He moved your arm in between your bodies and you immediately began touching yourself. Your head tilted back as your eyes rolled back and closed. It was better than anything you could have imagined. You opened your eyes to find Jim looking down and staring where your bodies met. He slowed down and watched as he entered you. 

“Jim, please, don’t stop. I’m so close.” 

He pulled out and watched your expression twist from one of pleasure to one of desperation. 

“Jim,” you drew out his name, “fuck, why!”

“I need to taste you.” He started to move down.

“Jim, please. Just-“

“Are you my good girl?”, he challenged you

You nodded and he shook his head. 

“Words.”

“I’m a good girl.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I’m a very, very good girl.” 

“Then let me eat this pussy.”

He moved down til his face was between your legs. He licked from your wet hole to your clit. You moaned as he licked and sucked. After a few seconds he stopped. 

“Do you deserve my cum, baby? 

“Yes! Please. Please, I deserve it!”

“Tell me you want me. Tell me how bad you need me.” His voice was low. He needed to hear you say it. 

“I want you. I really, really want you.. Fuck, I need you.” You let out a long moan as he went back to your clit with more determination than before. You pressed his head deeper between your legs as he devoured you. He reached up to grab your free hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You bucked your hips up and he moved with you. 

“I want you inside me. I want your cum inside me again. I want it over and over and over again.” 

He pulled back for air, cursed under his breath, and quickly lined himself up again. 

You kissed him as he entered you slowly again. The kiss was messy and wanton. You tasted yourself on his tongue. His thumb rubbed your clit and your hips absentmindedly met his. 

“Jim,” your voice thin, “I’m gonna-.” 

“Let go, love. I’m right behind you.” 

He let you ride your high before he finished inside you. Spent and panting he didn’t dare move. You were sweaty, exhausted, and experiencing pure bliss. His hands caressed your sides as he soothed you. It was only when you both came down that he pulled out and dragged you towards him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head. 

“You were so good,” he whispered, “You were so good for me. So perfect for me...”

You hummed and cuddled into his chest. You felt a bit of awkwardness starting to creep in. You didn’t know how to feel. Submitting to him even the tiniest bit felt like a burden on him, even if he indulged in your every desire. You racked your brain, trying to figure out what to even say in return to you were “so perfect”. You went a little rigid and moved away from him just enough to lift your hand. 

“Thank you. Nice job. Go team.” You mentally facepalmed. You couldn’t figure out what else to say, so you landed on something you’d say after a corporate team building exercise. Or, at least, it felt detached enough that you wouldn’t have to confront your feelings for him.

He laughed and obliged the high five. Then, he laced his fingers with yours and gave the back of your hand a kiss. 

He playfully rolled his eyes, “Darling, why are you getting awkward on me now?” 

You looked up at him and lost yourself in his eyes. He stared back at you with a newfound curiosity. He was searching for a way into your head so that he could finally have some clarity in his life. He just wanted to know if he was right about something, someone, this time. 

“I’m not getting awkward I’m just-“

“Deflecting.” His look said “I’m right aren’t I?” and you half rolled your eyes.

He sighed and rubbed his thumb against your shoulder. “You, my dear, need some advice.”

“Dear god, here comes Professor Ji-.”

“Let. Go.” The soft smile on his face made you feel safe instantly.

You exhaled though your nose, “Pardon?” 

“Let go. Give into… this, whatever this is. Just let go. Let it happen. I’ll be here to catch you.”

“I… How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t. But, I’m asking you to trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“No, not me as your professor. Me as your-“

“As my what? What are you to me exactly? You’re not my partner. We’re not dating. So you as my what?” His comment through you for a loop. You were apprehensive. The last thing you wanted to do was get too attached. 

“As your escape.”

He was right. You desperately needed this. It was an appitite you could never satiate. Yet, you laid with the only person that ever fulfilled your needs and you wondered how much more he could do for you. You wondered how much further you could go, how much deeper this dynamic could go. How much of himself he was willing to give to you? Not to mention, how would you keep this life separate from your life at school? You were both adults, but things like this cloud a persons judgement. 

He continued, “I know you. I can tell what you enjoy just from your writing. You write about romance and relationship dymanics often. I can tell what you’re into based on your word choice alone. I believe it was you that wrote “There’s a certain type of desperation that takes over when you give yourself, your body, to someone else.” I know you, darling. I know what you need and I know how to give it to you. Just let me.”