#but i love sports and i'm digging my heels in and trying to make it Better! u know!

[larsnicklas]

How can you be a fan of Matthew Tkachuk knowing he likes Patrick Kane? Not trying to be mean. it's just idk how to reconcile this for myself and wanted to talk it out with someone else

gonna be honest with you Every Player (esp american) likes patrick k.ane. the venn diagram of players who admire k.ane and play in the nhl is very nearly a circle. there's no feasible way to be totally morally pure in this world and it's not really useful (and sometimes actively detrimental!) to try to be.

this is me oversimplifying by a lot — and i'm happy to chat off anon too — but for me i cannot spend time and energy trying to vet what players like what other player that i may find repulsive or distasteful lol. this obviously has its limits and if someone is extra vocal about throwing their support behind a player who has committed a crime or heinous act it will turn me off of them! but that, to me, is different from looking up to a player for their on-ice skill. ideally of COURSE i would rather every player i love also denounce a scumbag like patrick k.ane but like....... we live in a society....

i think at the end of the day you just have to draw your own lines in the sand. if it helps, i don't think you liking a player who likes patrick k.ane makes you a bad person lol and i'd even go so far as to say it's a waste of time trying to determine who likes who and whatnot. pour that energy into contributing to the culture shift in the sport, whatever that looks like to you! amplify the voices you agree with; speak up in hockey fandom spaces when you think something is wrong; de-platform b.arstool-esque types. things like that are more productive than nitpicking around players liking other players imo!

[kimsmuse]

Hiii, I just came across your blog, and I L O V E it! Since you said you were looking for a recommendation, here's one from me. Yandere school president. They have immense power at their school because not only are they the president, but their parents own the school. Their word is quite literally the law at this school. He just so happens to be head over heels in love and obsessed with you. Give in to their obsessive and possessive love or suffer the consequences. Since he holds so much power, he can make you a school outcast in less then a week, and he can have teachers fail you or pick on you for the stupidest reasons ever, he'll make your life a living hell at school if you don't accept his twisted and fucked up love, it's best to just be a good darling, and let yourself be loved on his own terms. It's a concept I've thought about a lot, but I haven't seen much of it. Anyways, thank you for your time, and keep up the good work!!!

okay okay omg first of all your brain???? this way too good and oml now i'm sad i spent my entire school life without a class prez like this :( but let's talk about this !!! this is mildly inspired by this one guy from the kdrama called taxi driver (ep 3) !!!

gender neutral!reader. warnings for obsessive behavior, mentions of killing someone but it's nothing graphic. blackmail/coercion type thing?? and typical yandere behavior.

okay so yandere!class president who is so focused, he's the top student of the grade and he's good at sports too?? captain of the basket ball team?? i don't know how he does it because i really couldn't but anyway even apart from that he keeps on taking part and neatly scoring in debates, and writing contests, you name it and he's doing it. it does happen sometimes that he ends up getting silver or bronze but he's there on the list somehow.

and obviously if you've ever been a teenager then you know how attractive this type of people are, because they're good at everything, because they look very unattainable and bonus for our class president is that he's super hot as well. so obviously he had a classroom filled with admirers. and he loved the attention, who doesn't? but he's never thought more of it than that, the aspect of romance is kinda alien to him, he's had his fair share of physical relationships (if they can be even called that) but none of them too good to stay.

so he keeps on with his day, his cram school, having lunch, dinner, studying, more studying.

and when he bumps into you from his way back from the library, he just stops dead in his tracks as you attempt to pick up the books you both dropped, and when you look up at him he's literally frozen. who are you? why has he never seen you around? why do you look so pretty? hey, where's that romantic instrumental playing from? why-

"hey, mister, are you okay? i didn't hit your head or anything right?"

and trust me when he's the literal embodiment of the ":0" emoji.

anyway, but that guy has never had a crush before so at first he just feels like its some kinda internal intuition? that there's something wrong with you or something.

but then he finds himself trying to find your class, sitting there on the excuse of talking to some friends and obviously he's welcomed there.

and he figures that his initial impression might be a wrong because you were such a sweetheart. not as popular as him, and you stuck to your 2-3 friends but he saw the way you would smile at people - a gentle, warm one. and he quite literally died when you greeted him that way once, surprised that you would know about his existence

it wasn’t that he forgot he was famous but having a crush really does wonders to your self esteem.

also you best believe he's digging up all your information, your past schooling if you've transferred, your parents' background, your social media and duh, where you live, where you work.

and if you work somewhere like a cafè or a convenience store, he's there for half the day, "studying" for exams and stuff, he claims it helps more than studying at home. and all the time his eyes barely register a page because he's looking at you as you're hard at work, helping customers, greeting them with that damned, charming smile and then in rare moments he looks at you as you lose that demeanor and sigh out of exhaustion. poor baby, he wished he could something for you so bad in those moments.

and then comes the part where his friends (he has a lot of friends but he believed that when you have a crush you shouldn’t tell everyone? also given his popularity... he figured it wouldn't be a greatest idea ever. so he only told like a guy or two) they adviced him to just go up to you and ask you out? what's the problem even? he's literally the golden boy of the school, why would someone reject him ever? you shouldn’t even be worried about that, dude! but with that confidence in himself, he decides on a day, nothing too significant and he looks at himself in the mirror.

"uh, actually, i do have a partner," did you hear that? the glass shattering? uh, that was his heart. that was his reaction when you told him this. but it was true, you had a partner in another country (which made sense that the yandere did not come to know of this before because he had been following you, just to make sure you were safe ofcourse, and he did not see a persosn who could classify as a romantic threat) and you loved them very much! no matter how cute and great this guy was, you were loyal to them.

and now cue the yandere's sad era. but only for like a day or two. until he realizes something. this was absurd, you were rejecting him? when so many people would literally kill for something like this? it was unbelievable. but he was deadset, this was the first time he felt this way for someone and he was determind to make you feel the same, or at least keep you with him, and he would do it with any means necessary.

he realized that your friends' parents were mere employees in his dad's company so all it took was one meeting. "stop talking to y/n." for them to start ignoring you and they did not even try to keep it lowkey and you had to resort to sitting alone at lunch, giving an easy access to the guy who used it as a time to sit beside you and tell you about his day, nevermind the fact that for the first few times you would just up and leave. and then you finally decided to just snap.

"what the fuck do you want?" you look at him, frustrated by all these things, and changes happening in your life in less than a week.

he just smirked, that mf had the audacity to smirk? "you, ofcourse,"

now he wasn’t quite violent because he'd just entered adulthood, he did not want to fuck up and spend the rest of his years in jail (not that he actually would because his parents would be hiring the world's best lawyers for him) but he did imagine it, murdering your s/o. he did not know what they looked like, but all they saw was you happy in their arms and as much he loved that little smile of yours, he wanted it to be for himself! not someone else!

so anyway, after you storm out on him after the last conversation, you get your english test results back and a big, red F is staring at you.

and normally your parents weren't grade obsessed but you would boast to them about how good you were at english and how much you loved the subject and even the teacher agreed thaf you were good at it.

when you meet with the teacher after class, he just removes his spectacles and rubs his eyes, "listen, y/n, you're one of the smartest students i've had the pleasure of teaching. so make the right choice, it's good for your future. just say yes to him. he's not bad, you know,"

he was behind this???????

you felt even more utterly helpless when you found that the yandere's parents fund almost more than half of the school so there’s nobody who would be willing to go against them and help you, no matter how much you would plead them.

"a transfer? don't even think about it, baby, nobody is going to issue that certificate unless i say so,"

chills run down your neck as he whispers this. you were truly stuck with him.

[icharchivist]

Threo does sports with Fif

One of the adults is always on stand by to make sure she doesn't get too rough

Seofon could teach her either about cooking or sewing, we know he's got skills in that, but I feel like he'd insist that's boring and he doesn't wanna do that - mainly so the twins can - and just takes over reading and writing class, cause that's easy enough and then he can do silly voices while reading to Fif

Also, and I'm digging my heels in on this, Feower does arts and crafts with Fif because it would drive him insane and in the end he learns more about self-expression from the seven year old than the other way around and that's exactly why he was assigned this task

Seox probably also needs to be forced into helping because he insists that there's nothing he can do, but then Fif insists on just hanging out with him because he's chill and not trying to teach her something. In the end he shows her how to calm yourself when you're feeling stressed and overwhelmed and just provides her with a haven of peace

HELPP THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE IT.

the Feower one really gets to me. Feower being terrible VS Feower being incapable of not being a big brother when he sees a child, fight fight fight.

I love the Seox portion though, i could imagine Seox thinks he has nothing of value to teach the kid, from both his skillset not being appropriate and his own self loathing, but eventually i could see him teach her meditation yeah. Like we mentioned before how Seox seems to have learnt a lot of way to try to calm himself down, and while he wouldn't consider it of value and all, one day a very hyperactive Fif tries to play with him and he tries to meditate so instead she sticks around and learn. I could see it being a good skill also as a doctor, both to understand her patients and to calm down in time of crisis. (esp since we saw her be in panic when Seox was harmed in a way she couldn't heal in SoR.)

Just, it seems wholesome. I love the whole thing, hell yeah.

[ejlovespie]

Uncomplicated

Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x fem!vampire!reader

Summary: Things get a little heated when you offer Stefan to drink from you… 

Words: 1.1K (This went a tad long for a drabble...whoops!)

Warnings / Tags: 18+ vampire biting & blood sharing / mild smut / touching / implied sex 

A/N: @akshi8278 Thank you for participating in this game of mine and thank you for following my blog and reading/sharing my work. You were one of my first followers when I started posting a few years ago and every time I see your handle come up, it makes me smile. <3 You have made a big impression on me and have pushed me to keep writing. I appreciate you so much and hope you like this little fic. :) xoxo -EJ 

P.S. This is my first Stefan fic *squeal!* I loved writing him! 

“I’m sorry, Y/N but no. Absolutely not.” Stefan is shaking his head at you, jaw tight and lips set in a firm, unhappy line.

You whine and put on the best, biggest, puppy-dog-eyed performance you have ever given and it's Oscar worthy because you’re desperate to get Stefan to agree. When he finally looks at you, his hazel eyes go dark as he shakes his head at you. Mentally digging in your heels, you hit him with the main point of your argument again. 

“Stef, please. It’s perfectly safe and you’ll get more drinking from me than you will with any innocent woodland creature. Plus, I’ve heard all the talk. A lot of vampires do this all the time and I really think this is your best option here. I'm just asking you to try it. Please?”  

Wearing dark jeans, boots, and a tan long-sleeved henley, your best friend is standing stiffer than his ‘hero hair.’ With the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, you try not to stare at his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest. Stubborn, you mimic his stance and stick out your bottom lip in a playful pout until he rolls his pretty eyes at you and drops his arms. You’re currently squaring off in the sitting room of the Salvatore house. If you could feel any fluctuation in temperature, you might shiver at the slight breeze coming in through the open window or warm from the heat coming off the fire in the harth. Stefan finally sits, his daylight ring glinting from the light of the fireplace as he pours both of you another drink. Accepting the offered glass, you study the bourbon decanter on the coffee table and take a sip. You both sit in tense silence for a long moment before you break it.

Your voice comes out softer than you mean it to when you ask, “Just tell me why. Why are you so dead-set against this? Why won’t you even try? Is it me? I know it’s kind of an..intimate thing but..would it really be that bad?” 

Stefan sighs. It’s prolonged and heavy with exasperation. Closing his eyes, he throws back the rest of his drink like it’s an Olympic sport before setting the glass down on the table in front of him.

Turning his body to face you, he says, “Y/N..you don’t know what you’re asking..what you’re offering. I know you’re trying to help but this could complicate our relationship. Blood sharing is..uh..personal and the others that do this all the time are couples.”

Heat creeps up your neck and cheeks from his low words and direct stare. You understood the implication of what he was saying but you didn’t care. Stefan’s health and wellbeing was more important to you than an awkward moment in your long-standing friendship. Making the decision to put him first, whether he saw it that way or not, you set your glass down before bringing your wrist to your mouth. Stefan begins to argue again but you ignore his protests as your fangs elongate and you bite into the vein inside your wrist. Looking at Stefan, you hold it out to him and wait. Your chest tightens at the sallowness in his skin and the sunken, purple bruises under his eyes. Guilt sours your stomach. You waited too long, let him starve himself too much before finally gaining enough courage to offer this to him.

With parted lips, Stefan stares at the small trail of bright red blood dripping from the wound on your wrist down your extended arm. After a moment, a soft sound escapes his throat and his eyes begin to shift from human to predator.

Scooting closer to him on the couch, you bring your bleeding wrist a little closer to his face and murmur, “Stop fighting me. Please, just take it. I’m a vampire, not a human. You’ll be able to stop.” 

Unable to hold back from the temptation any longer, Stefan grabs you, gentler than you thought possible with how starved he was, and brings your open wound to his lips. He hovers there for a second and locks eyes with you before finally biting into your torn flesh. You both groan quietly as the first drops of your blood fall onto his tongue. It doesn’t take long for the blood flow to increase and you moan softly as Stefan begins to drink feely from you. Heat pools in your belly and time slows to a crawl as your best friend's strong arms pull you, soft and pliant, into his lap. 

The room is filled with the soft sound of the crackling fire and the low, needy sounds coming from both of you. You melt into each other and it doesn’t bother you that you’re closer to Stefan than you’ve ever been before. It doesn’t bother you to have his hands rubbing along your arms, waist, neck, and collarbones. The feel of his touch is divine on your skin, setting your body ablaze. The smell of Stefan’s spicy cologne, aged bourbon, burning pine, and your blood mix until you feel dizzy and intoxicated. You want more. 

Eyes heavy, your free hand moves up to touch and explore Stefan’s body as he feeds from you. More heat pools low in your belly and suddenly you desperately want to be on the receiving end of this exchange. Blood may be blood but each person smells and tastes slightly different and dark, needy desire has you thinking dirty thoughts about your best friend. Adjusting on Stefan’s lap, you press your center into his growing erection. The movement is equivalent to dumping ice water on him as he is catapulted back to reality. 

He pulls your wrist from his bloody lips and looks at you with wide, shocked eyes. Speechless, you both stare at each other for a long moment. The air is thick with tension and your body still sings with curiosity and lust but you smile softly up at Stefan. He looks so much better, his color is slowly returning to normal and the bruises under his eyes are much less prominent than they were a few minutes ago. Reaching up, you touch his cheek gently as the wound on your wrist heals itself and closes.

In a breathy, slightly shaky voice you say, “Better, much better.”

Stefan stares down at you cradled in his lap, his now steely erection still pressed to your core. With eyes full of emotion, and a voice full of gravel, he states, “I’ve dreamed of you in my arms like this for so long..Are we complicated now?”

Smiling brightly, you bite your bottom lip gently and move your hips to create more friction against Stefan’s lap. He sucks in a sharp breath and you reply, “No, never.. but I hope you take me upstairs to bed an–” 

With inhuman speed and strength, you’re picked up, carried, and tossed into Stefan’s silken bedsheets faster than you could finish what you were about to say. 

[rainbowsky]

OK, so here's why I don't normally answer asks about doubts people have about GGDD.

Anyone who has ever regularly answered asks on Tumblr has probably learned that the asks you answer are the asks you'll get. If you answer an ask about a subject, you will get more asks on that subject. Which only makes sense. Discussion of a topic is likely to inspire more discussion on that topic.

Which is a big part of why I usually scrupulously avoid answering asks that involve topics I don't like discussing, or that violate my own policy on the types of discussions I'm willing to have.

But sometimes I'm an idiot and I don't follow my own advice.

I don't normally answer asks that involve doubts people have about GGDD unless there is some specific misinformation that I can clear up. For example, the video clip where people were claiming GG said his ideal partner is female.

But when it comes to general doubts and insecurities, it's not a can of worms I generally open, for a variety of really good reasons:

I am not here to make a case for people why BJYXSZD. As I've said many times, that's a very individual, personal path for each fan to take. It's not something anyone else should really be getting involved in. It's not something I can get involved in.

People who doubt, will doubt. That's where their heads currently are at. They aren't likely to be satisfied by anything anyone says. GG and DD aren't going to come out and do a little livestream on my blog to clear everything up, and nothing short of that will truly satisfy people who are feeling insecure about things. If I 'adequately' answer one doubt, 4 more will pop up. It's just the way these things go. Doubt isn't about any single issue, it's a state of mind, and people have a natural tendency to look for evidence to support their beliefs rather than to look for evidence why their beliefs are wrong. When that belief is a doubt, attempts to challenge that doubt aren't going to alleviate it.

There are trolls and antis who make a sport of trying to lure BXG into these kinds of debates, and I'm not feeding that beast. Not saying Anon was one of them, but at least one of the asks I got after I replied to Anon is obviously from an anti trying to bait me. Unfortunately this kind of thing has been quite common, especially lately with OOL airing. And often it's those assholes who are going around to BXG spaces trying to sow doubt and confusion by making stupid claims like that, so they're the likely source of a lot of the doubts from actual turtles that reach my inbox. This whole 'he's singing a breakup song' line of thinking comes straight from those antis. Block and ignore.

Ironically by answering those kinds of questions, I am likely not relieving people's doubts, but feeding them. Because the natural human response to someone challenging a belief they hold is to dig their heels deeper into that belief.

Most of what we believe in this fandom is based entirely on speculation. None of us has access to the whole truth. Trying to 'make a case' is a fool's errand.

Even if one Anon is satisfied by an argument I might make for why x doubt is unfounded, the whole exchange brings in other Anons who want their doubts addressed, which only fuels and reinforces that entire cycle.

If you feel inclined to doubt, you don't need me too soothe your doubt. If I haven't written a lengthy post about why I feel they aren't together anymore, you can rest assured that I still believe they're together. Hence any answer I could give you would be entirely predictable. I am a BJYXSZD turtle. If that ever changes, you'll be the first to know.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with doubting, nor is there any need to be so invested in whether GG and DD are together. I know that might sound strange coming from someone who spends so much time as a turtle, but ultimately I am here as their fan first and foremost. My love and support for them, and my enjoyment of them, doesn't hinge on whether they are a couple.

Bottom line: If you are not at BJYXSZD, that's totally fine. No one is obligated to believe. Everyone has their own path to take as a fan, and that might or might not lead to BJYXSZD, but it shouldn't be the goal. At least, I don't think it should. I think we're all better off if we focus on enjoying fandom, enjoying supporting our boys, and just overall having fun.

I trust them to take care of themselves and each other, and I leave it all in their capable hands.

My apologies to the Anons who have asked me about this type of thing and who sent me related asks over the past couple days, but hopefully this explains why I can't dig into those questions.

[froldgapp]

For the writing ask game: 10, 19, and 30! :D

Ahhhh lovely asks! 10 - Top three favourite fic tropes

This one is hard! Gotta go:

a- whump; but a specific type of whump. It can't go too hard and it has to be really particularly balanced. Ideally, a slow climb to the pay-off. I love it too when there's a strong psychological or even exclusively psychological bent to the whump.

b- misunderstandings; I love seeing two or more characters go on a journey where nobody and/or everybody is right/wrong. Tim and Dick's conflict in Red Robin for example is right up my street: two people very lost and trying to do their best and making mistakes along the way. Yum!

c- Unexpectedly brilliant AUs; I'm not a massive AU reader but I love it when I come across one, especially one drawing on media I don't know very well, that just utterly pulls me in. Looking at you Vellaphoria with your Star Wars AUs for example. When authors do it well, I eat it up!

19 - Share a snippet for a WIP without sharing any context

Kon must have nodded off, because when the small ferry hit a swell, it shunted him awake. He blinked into the low evening light for a few sleepy moments then pulled in a breath of salty air that filled him chest to belly. His face felt warm and tight from the sun. His body was well, abundant, rested.

“Nice nap?”

Tim smiled at him from the opposite bench, eyes narrowed and muted to grey by the light streaming from behind him. He was sitting in lotus position, one knee resting on an innocuous looking sports bag, which of course contained his Robin suit and gear. Now Tim–just ordinary, civilian Tim–wore a white linen button down and pair of navy shorts. Uncharacteristically proper and all grown up.

30 - Describe a fic that almost happened but didn't

There's a fic idea I've had for a while where Tim somehow ends up being "cancelled" for making a light-hearted jab about Red Robin while on air/at an event. Turns out there are vigilante fanatics in Gotham who get very very upset if people come after their... blorbos, I guess haha.

So then Tim is put in a position where the world–and even his family–tries to force him into apologising to Red Robin. Needless to say, Tim digs his heels in and lots of existential angst follows :D

The other one I would love to share but in doing so, I'd already give too much away. I'd love to write both of them though. Eventually. Maybe.

[gallickingun]

May I request a Praise kink! Dom! Mirio x Reader drabble that doesn't use Sunshine as a nickname? (My mom's name is Sunshine and I feel icky about being called it){I'm sorry if this breaks a rule in your ask system but I can't access them from mobile}

a/n: of course! i didn’t do as much size kink with this one and focused more on the praise. i hope you like it! 💕 also when did i become a mirio blog like damn this is so long lol 

tw: praise kink; soft dom!mirio; daddy kink (i’m sO SORRY I CAN’T HELP IT); sub!reader; fingering; oral; kinda a crybaby reader? idk if that’s a tw now, but i did want to just put it here!

ps, reminder that ~drabble requests~ are open! currently accepting for bnha, haikyuu, jujutsu kaisen, a:tla, & dragon ball!

“That’s it,” Mirio’s voice is like honey in your ears, dripping down your spine to pool in your stomach, settling hot and heavy against your insides. He kisses your cheek and leans back on his thighs to watch where his fingers have speared your cunt wide open, “That’s my girl, look at how pretty you are all laid out for me.”

He pauses, and then tilts his head, blue eyes swirling with something akin to frantic worry, “It is just for me, i’nnit baby?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah!” You squeeze your eyes shut so hard it pushes your tears from your ducts, and a moan is ripped from your lungs as his second knuckles push deeper into your swollen lips. When you get your bearings straight, and are able to look him in the eye again, your lower lip is wobbling but you manage to push more words out despite yourself, “J-Just for you, T-Toga-”

Mirio cuts your stuttering sentence short with a warm, firm kiss to your lips. His mouth is searing hot, and your noses bump when he presses too eagerly into you. Your jaw falls slack as his digits piston forward, thick and slick, and nearly rip another orgasm from your belly while his mouth is preoccupied with your bared neck.

You know that there will be dozens of marks littered across your body in the morning, but you don’t have the wherewithal to tell him to quit. Your skin is simmering with a wanton heat, insatiable in your need to have him closer, closer, closer. It’s concerning how no matter how many times he helps you fall apart, you’re still yearning for more. 

He huffs out a breath, releasing the cleft of skin he had captured between his teeth so he can look down at you - breathless and beautiful and begging, still - and that beautiful grin overtakes his features, stretching pink lips to bare beautiful pearlescent teeth. You reach a palm up out of instinct alone, a wobbly elbow barely able to hold you anything close to steady, “I-I love you, Togata, I l-love, I love you.”

Mirio tils his head so he can kiss you on the wrist. Your pulse point stutters underneath his mouth and he revels in the knowledge that only he has the capability to wear you down in such a way that has you pleading for another piece of his soul, as if yours might not be whole without him there to fill the gaps. He sighs, warm breath spilling down the length of your forearm and driving a shiver up your spine.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” his voice is gravelly, like it hurts to push out the words, but he repeats them regardless, this time looking into your glassy eyes so you know he’s telling you the truth. He smiles again, turning so his cheek is pressed fully into your palm, “You’re doing so good, such a good girl. You think you’re ready for me, now?”

The nodding of your head is a mix of frantic and eager, your pupils blown wide as your mouth parts out of lascivious desire alone. His expression softens at your fervor, dimples fading as he shifts his hips so he’s positioned between your knees. Mirio’s knuckles slowly drag out of you, scissored slightly so your precious walls will not be fooled into thinking the onslaught is over. No, it has only just begun; Mirio does nothing in small measures, including the heft that is sported between his hips.

Your little hand reaches forward out of pure need and you can barely wrap your digits around him fully, but that does not stop you from trying. He hums out a laugh that sounds curiously like fondness, and then kisses your knee, pushing it further away so your cunt is butterflied open, lips slightly parted so he can see the depths of your body for himself. You grunt, bent forward at an odd angle so you can watch the sanguine cockhead bulge under your ministrations. Mirio’s chest shakes with a moan, eyelids threatening to slip closed when he feels your soft palm envelope his shaft.

“P-Princess,” he rests his forehead against your knee, hiding his sapphire irises from your gaze. You love the way the nickname tumbles from his lips, so you push the pillow under your shoulder blades to aid in your actions of leaning forward so you can wrap both hands around his dick, thumbing at the veins and the darkened shaft, watching closely as the pre drools from his tip. You lick your lips and Mirio watches your pinkened tongue part your teeth to expose itself and your intentions.

“Please?” you beg, eyes wide and fingers needy. You tongue the air in front of you, the tip of your muscle pointed with the way you flex it, “W-Wanna be good for you, make you feel good!”

His canine tooth catches the corner of his mouth, a flash of pain shown in his bright eyes, but it subsides when he sees how badly you want to prove to him that you could devour him whole if only he’d give you the chance.

“You’re being so good,” he murmurs, dipping his head down to kiss you on the mouth, thumb finding your clit as he sandwiches his thick forearm between your torsos. You mewl, kicking your feet at the newfound jolts of pleasure making their way up your body with each circling of the pad of his finger against that sweet, soft bundle of nerves you keep hidden from everyone but him. Mirio volleys teeth and tongue and lips back and forth with you while you both focus on one another’s sensitive spots, your hands flicking upward against the head of his dick before slowly shifting back down, squeezing him at different points to elicit those salacious moans from the depths of his chest. And his fingerprints drag along the soft folds that are tucked between your hips, never pushing too deep, but reminding you that he’s near and ready whenever you ask to bring forth yet another crashing wave of pleasure if only you just ask him to. 

He nips your lower lip and then kisses the corner of your mouth, blinking slowly so he can look you in the eyes, “Such a perfect little one for me, yeah? You’re so pretty and sweet and soft, fuck you’re soft. These cute lips and that adorable cunt. You’re so wet for me, sweetheart.”

All you can do is nod, words negligible at this point. You know he doesn’t need your assurances anyway. You tilt your chin so you can reach his mouth again, whining against his lips as your wrist angles to drag over the thick head of his cock one last time before you part.

“I want to taste you, Daddy,” your voice is small, mouth pulled into a pout that he pulls back to examine while he stills his fingers against your labia, slick and dripping onto the sheets beneath him. Mirio sighs, his cock twitching at the thought of your delicate mouth wrapped around whatever bit of him you’re able to swallow.

“C’mere,” he turns his body so he’s laid back on the mattress, arm tucked behind his head as he guides you with his free hand against the back of your neck. He thumbs at the skin there, rough fingers nothing but gentle while he handles you. You note each scar on his body as you trail your fingers over his skin, waiting as he settles into the plush down of the mattress. Your head finds his hip, one leg slung over his calf so your cunt is bared to his knee, if you wish to grind down on it. The heel of your hand rests on his thigh, near his balls, and your fingertips ache to reach between the thickest parts of him to touch what is usually hidden to the world, but always bared to you.

“Be careful, baby,” Mirio’s voice is a warning, “don’t hurt yourself.”

Oh, that sounds like a challenge if there ever were one. 

You part your lips and lick at the tip of his cock, drooling with a pearlescent bead of pre, saltine and delectable. Your eyelids shutter closed simultaneously with the moan that shakes Mirio’s entire body. His hand digs deeper into your neck on either side, fingers buzzing with the need to push your precious mouth down until your face is buried into the vee of his hips and your mouth is drooling around his cock. He withholds himself, though, knowing that you need to prove to yourself what you can do with whatever parts of your body you wish to use.

One hand stays wrapped around the base of him, your eyes near crossing as you watch the blushing tip of his cock tremble under your gaze. You look up for his permission, hazy eyes somehow finding him, and you wait for him to nod before you begin to suckle on the head of his dick. The corded muscles of his thighs are shuddering with each bob of your head, his abdomen muscles flexing as he restrains himself from pushing you too far.

“That’s’a good girl,” he grits his teeth with each syllable, tilting his jaw so he can watch your eyes water with how you try to take too much to start. You choke and gag when you attempt to put your nose to his blonde curls, the tip of him brushing your uvula and dragging out your gag reflex. Tears soak your cheeks and drool dribbles down either corner of your mouth, and Mirio has to guide your face away from his cock before you try to go again in spite of your reaction.

After a few more attempts to draw your mouth down to the base of his cock unsuccessfully, Mirio lets out a patronizing chuckle, dragging you by the neck so you won’t continue your assault and make yourself sick. Your thighs latch around his leg, cunt dripping on his knee, begging like a child for him to let you go so you can prove something to him.

“Stop it.”

You blink once, looking him in the eyes, “B-But-”

“What did I say?”

A fresh set of tears stain your cheeks and the sheets, and Mirio gathers you up in his arms and sits forward so you’re tucked against his lap, “Feel that?” He’s talking about the way his cock bobs against your belly, bubbling with arousal and begging to be sheathed inside of you. He noses your cheek, “You did that. All you, baby. With that pretty mouth and those sweet hands. You did such a good job. Such a good girl for me, yeah?” 

You whine, dropping your head to his shoulder but keeping your head lilted so you can look down at his dick, watching as it twitches with every move that you make. You want to reach your hands down to take him between your fingers, to push him over the edge as he’s already done for you three times tonight. You want to give him everything he’s gifted you and so much more.

“I know what you want, honey,” he’s quiet but in the emptiness of your room it feels so loud. Each word sends a shockwave to your core and you shiver at the sound, “W-Want you, Daddy. Just want you.”

“I know, baby,” and this time it is almost sad the way he says it. He takes a deep breath and tilts your head with his thumb beneath your chin, “Let me take care of you, okay? You took such good care of me, now it’s your turn.”

He wordlessly hauls you up by the waist with minimal effort, and looks you in the eyes, “I want you to guide me, okay? I want you to show me where you want me.”

You nod and reach down so your hands are wrapped around the very end of his cock, bobbing your fingers up and down just to milk what’s left of the sweet spurt of pre so his tip is drooling, and then you position his dick so it will split your cunt in two. Slowly, Mirio drops you down, watching your hands fall away so he can get an eyeful of his cock as it spreads your lips and disappears, inch by inch into your sweet, slippery pussy. 

“That’s my girl,” he grunts, allowing you to fall forward so your hands are on his chest, bracing you before you take his entire length up into your stomach. Tears surface on your lids and he’s quick to kiss the corners of your eyes until they’re gone, “Sweet girl, don’t cry. You’re doing so good for me. I can’t wait to fuck this perfect cunt, can’t wait to give you all I’ve got.”

“Want it, Daddy, want it! I-I can take it! P-Promise-” You sob as you try to roll your hips, but his palms are steady against your body, which only makes you more frustrated that he won’t let you show him that you can be a good girl, that you can take his cock and do it well. 

Mirio is a sunbeam incarnate, all light and shine, warmth and something husky that reminds you of a sunny afternoon. So when he speaks, you listen, and you take each of his words and run them through your gummy mind until you’re sure you’ve heard him right.

“I know you can, baby girl,” he rotates your hips with the heels of his palms and you gasp as he spears you wide open, “You can do anything you set your mind to. But let go, and let Daddy take care of you this time, okay?”

Your whimpering is cut short when you feel the head of his cock brush your cervix and whatever comes next you can hardly remember except the sound of his name on your lips and the way he burns you alive only to soothe the ache when it’s all over hours later into the night.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chapter 21

"I've seen things that I never should have seen Said too many things I didn't mean Hurt myself too many times to count I need to let it out, and just release Been lying to myself too long Been trying by myself too long I can't relax, I'm too distracted I can't hack it, hmm I'm needy, greedy Love me, feed me Let's be a family It'll take a village To make a man of me So why couldn't you love me? It's all I need

I just want time in a tree I need a place just for me Somewhere that I can be free Keep the faith and just be What you'll be…"

Raleigh Ritchie—"Time in a Tree"

Work.

From sun up until sundown.

Erik bought suits, shoes, and accessories that shouted to the world that he was in the big leagues. Tailor-made threads. A personal barber that came to the office to service him. He leased a silver Porshe and had gourmet meals delivered to him because there was no time to cook in Devika's condo.

By the time he dragged himself home after a fifteen-hour day with Stark and two hours on a crowded freeway, all Erik could do was heat up his fancy pre-cooked meal, eat it, shower, and fall into bed next to Devika.

Despite the hectic schedule, he was able to knock out some gym time during his lunch breaks, and he went through another growth spurt, putting on an additional twenty pounds that filled out his face, chest, and ass. He felt like his voice had changed too, sounding more manly to his ears. Even his dick felt different as if it had grown a bit too, feeling thicker when he was erect. His physical need for sex grew also, but Devika was unavailable to him when he was gallivanting around with Tony. It was torture moving in and out of Tony's office and seeing her at her desk but pretending that they didn't wake up together or go to sleep together in the same bed.

Their domestic arrangement was cute for about three months, but the shine was wearing off a bit when real-life commenced. He had a job. Responsibilities. Schedules to create and maintain. Pepper was still on his ass at times, and Tony was his usual unpredictable self. He brought that stress home with him and it took him a long time to release the outside world with his home life. Devika was a good sport about the lack of time they had together, but some nights he was so tired that he would fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

Sometimes he could knock out a quickie in the morning, but only if he set an alarm to get up early. He was able to get home early one hectic Friday night because a client canceled a dinner meeting, but by the time he showered and put on fresh cologne for Devika, Tony called him up to tell him to pack for Hawaii. He sat in the living room waiting for Devika, and when she scurried in excited to have him home to herself before ten at night holding Thai take-out food, she saw his bags by the door and she totally deflated. He apologized as he kissed her, trying to smooth her ruffled feathers. Instead of languid love-making as he had promised, they ended up fucking hard and fast on the couch with Erik switching up positions as many times as he could.

When they were done and tangled up in each other's afterglow, Erik could tell that she wasn't happy.

"Go put on those heels, Ma," he told her, slapping her ass.

Her eyes were closed.

"C'mon, baby. I gotta leave soon. I wanna see you in them."

She dragged herself off the couch and walked her sexy ass to the bedroom. When she returned, she had on some black strappy seven-inch heels that he had never seen before.

"Damn, girl."

"I bought these for this weekend."

She twirled around and he stood up fast, fisting his brand new erection.

"Get down on the floor. You know what I want."

She took her time walking to him.

"Look how hard you got this dick."

She smiled then dropped down on the floor under beneath his spread legs, resting her back against the couch.

"Lick my balls."

Her tongue slathered saliva all around his sack. Her right hand reached up and stroked his dick and he kept his eyes on her legs that were bent at the knees. Leaning forward, he could see her heels.

"Baby, I like how you got my balls all in your mouth…fuck…Devika…suck on those nuts bitch…"

He watched her widen her thighs.

"I'ma fuck you in your ass before I leave."

She moaned and the vibration on her mouth coursed all around his nutsack.

"Goddamn Devika!"

Pre-cum laced the tip of his dick and fell down onto her stomach.

He broke away from her.

"Get on your hands and knees."

Devika crawled forward and Erik handed her a couch pillow for her knees. She placed herself in position with her perky ass in the air and Erik stroked himself.

"I know you're still upset I have to leave all last minute. But I'm about to get in that ass so you won't miss me too much."

He positioned himself behind her and used the copious amount of pre-cum dripping out of his slit to lubricate his erection.

"Get ready, Ma…oh shit…I like that…oh damn... Devika…oh shit….oh shit…."

He took his sweet time entering her, and she relaxed easily once he started pumping in and out of her asshole. In the three months he had been living with her, he learned that whenever she was upset with him for any little thing, fucking her in the ass calmed the bad attitude. When her body was fully accommodating, he gave her that length and girth.

"You still mad?" he said between gritted teeth.

"Not anymore. Keep fucking me in my ass!"

"You letting me get in there deep this time. Damn girl…deep…fucking this ass up!"

He jumped from doggy to froggy on her ass, letting his heavy balls smash against her ass and clit.

"You were ready to cuss my ass out when I told you I had to leave…ah shit…ass is fucking tight on my dick."

Devika adjusted her hands and arms to handle the weight he was putting on her. He sweated all over her back.

"Can I cum in your ass?"

"Yes…."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Daddy. Cum in my ass."

"You forgive me for leaving?"

"Yes!"

"You gon' miss Daddy's dick?"

"Yes!"

Devika fell forward and leaned her weight onto her elbows.

Erik slang dick in her ass to put her to sleep.

"How you gon' greet me when I get back?"

"Erik!"

"Tell me!"

He slapped her ass cheek. He was close to ejaculating.

"I'll be at the door….on my knees…."

"What else?"

"Mouth open…"

"For what?"

"Daddy's dick."

"What will you wear?"

"A smile."

He laughed and slapped the side of her hip.

Shifting back to his knees again, he gripped her waist with both hands and rocked into her. So much sweat dripped off from her supple skin and he allowed the fingers of his left hand to slide up and down her spine to feel the warm wetness. Devika played with her clit as he handled her ass. She was so fucking beautiful and he felt so proud to have her for his own…to live with her…to wake up with her…

"I'm cumming….I'm cumming….fuck….I'm cumming hard….I'm cumming hard in this ass…Devika…I'm….shiiitttt!"

He pulled his dick back a few inches as he lost his voice. His eyes squeezed shut hard and he thought he could see hot flashes of white light behind his eyelids as a rush of fluid erupted from his loins. Staring down at himself he watched his dick jump and throb and pump a flood of hot semen into her ass. His balls seemed to jump too.

"Damn baby. That was fucking amazing!"

He slapped her ass again and pulled her body up against him to give her a big hug. Kissing all over her cheek he felt her pat his arm.

"You better go take a shower real quick. I'll call a Lyft for you."

He released her and sauntered to the bathroom letting her see his dick swinging as he walked. When he was done cleaning himself and changing into clothes, she was ready to say goodbye to him at the front door.

"Call me when you land," she said, clutching onto his arm. She was still naked.

"Hopefully we'll be back by Wednesday," he said.

"He has to be. He has several meetings scheduled later that afternoon that he can't get out of."

Her face looked a little strange when he reached for the handle of his bag.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just a lot is going on and you won't be here to help me decompress."

"You just make sure to be in position when I get back here Wednesday night."

He kissed her and regretted feeling her tongue in his mouth. He wanted to stay home and make love all weekend. His balls still felt heavy.

"Down on my knees. Mouth open," she whispered.

"Mmmhmmm. Make sure you suck my dick real good too."

"I will."

"I know you will. Have my pussy ready too. I'ma be digging in you deep." "Yeah?"

"You know it. Marinate in you all night. Take care of you right. Make up for all of this last-minute bullshit."

"That's part of the job Erik. Life with Tony is non-stop."

"But I have a life with you too."

Her eyes flickered away from his. He didn't like that.

"Call me," she said once more and kissed him again.

She had to shove him out the door to make him finally leave.

###

The private jet banked across the Pacific and Erik could see the lights of the Santa Monica pier before they ascended into the upper layers of a cloudy sky. Once they reached cruising altitude, he could see the moon and stars.

"I've rescheduled my Monaco trip," Tony said as he sat in a creamy gray leather seat with a touchpad in his right hand and a bourbon on the rocks in his left.

"When?" Erik asked.

"Early February."

Tony sipped and scrolled. Erik daydreamed looking out of the window.

Pepper sat across from Erik in the aisle, her fingers busy clickety-clacking on her laptop. Every now and then she would stop and sip on the can of Coke sitting on her seat tray next to her computer.

Happy and another security team member snoozed in the back. A private flight attendant offered Erik snacks and more soda, but he declined. His stomach was in knots. This was the sixth flight out of Los Angeles in four weeks and he barely had a chance to see Devika once he had returned from the last-minute Hawaii trip weeks ago. He was in and out of LAX so much that he didn't bother taking his suitcases home, and just left them packed and ready at the office.

He was learning a ton, and he was also getting access to how Tony's mind worked in regards to the industry he was in and his bottom line.

Money.

Tony Stark loved tech and innovation and being a showman, but he loved money more than anything. Even though he had enough to last several lifetimes, there was an unending need to have more. It was a theme Erik found among the crowd Tony ran with. Money was used to bend wills, control societies, and bludgeon politicians. It was a true addiction. A rabid one at that.

Erik also learned that people at those top one percent heights dehumanized everyone around them. The lower ninety-nine percent were the help. Simple cattle. Sheep to be herded sometimes. How many men from various countries in the last five months had Erik been around that made him want to choke the life out of them? A dozen? Two dozen? So many of them were sociopaths too, and not to mention those that made his guts crawl when they gave off pedo vibes or disgusting kinks that Erik had been privy too. A trip to Dubai found Erik sitting in a lavish home watching women flown in from America and Europe squatting over rich male faces and shitting feces into their mouths as Tony sat there trying to close an arms deal that would net him millions. Erik didn't know whether to laugh or vomit as dead-eyed twenty-somethings with augmented bodies performed kinks that shouldn't even exist. But Tony took it in stride. It was normal business to him.

The trips wouldn't be so bad if he didn't have the nagging suspicion that Devika was going to break up with him. He was already living in his own apartment away from her. He hoped that distance would make her heart grow fonder when she did see him at work, but the unpredictable hours put a dent in that. He saw her at least twice a week outside of work, and that time was only spent fucking before he was off to do Tony's bidding.

Before he left for the trip he was on now she had called him weeks before to say that her ex-fiancé had been reaching out to her and she wanted to talk to him. They left their relationship unfinished and she wanted closure.

Erik was upset. Angry.

They fought about it for weeks and stopped speaking to each other for days.

But he wanted her to handle her business. He thought it was the adult thing to do. She cried about it and the expression on her face pained him.

"I was with that man for five years, Erik. I loved him…I still love him. We were planning a life together. I can't just turn off all of that history like that."

He sat in her living room with a heated face and pressure in his chest. She still loved him?

"If you love him, then why fuck around with me? Am I your place holder or something?"

It was hard to hang onto his righteous anger when she was crying so hard. Seeing all that hurt in her face made him want to fix everything for her.

"Erik, you…I…I have feelings for you. Deep feelings. I really do. But—"

"I don't want to hear no 'buts' Devika…are you fucking him?"

"No—"

"Don't lie!"

"I'm not."

"So what do you want to do?"

He was so hot with rage that he could barely sit still. He wanted to punch in the wall. Break shit.

"I need to talk with him. Work this thing out. You don't know what it's like to share a life with someone—"

"What have I been doing with you? We lived together for almost four months—"

"Four months is not the same as five years."

"I fucking hate this shit, Devika!"

His voice thundered in the room and she covered her face with shaky hands. He was too angry to even try and comfort her.

He moved out soon after that. Gave her space and time to get herself together.

It crushed him.

He spent way too much time at the gym, doing his best not to go home to a lonely apartment. He threw himself into his work and was grateful for the long hours to keep his mind off of her.

There was an occasional check-in text, and he zoned out around her in Tony's office.

He couldn't believe how his relationship had turned to shit so fast. One minute he had a woman, and the next, he was waiting for her to make a decision because he knew that is what it came down to. Did she love Austin enough to get back with him? Get married?

Staring out of the jet window again, Erik tried to see it from Devika's point of view. She was twenty-six, had a career that provided her with a lucrative income, and Erik knew she wanted to have a family. Babies. A house in the suburbs. He was nineteen, and even though he had money in the bank thanks to card sharking for Tony and the life insurance left to him from his parents, he also had to consider his own life goal.

Revenge.

A deep sigh escaped his throat and Tony glanced up at him from his touchpad.

"You okay, kiddo?"

"Yeah."

"If you want to sleep, go take the bed in the back. I'm going to be up until we land."

"Okay."

Erik left his seat and wandered to the private sleeping quarters. Kicking off his dress shoes, he stretched out on the bed, his body still tense.

Devika wanted a regular life. He would never be able to give her that. No one really. He was just greedy for her affections, greedy for wanting to be needed by someone like her. He felt lonely, but he needed to do what she had originally told him to do: focus on his work and his dreams.

But his dreams were the replaying of nightmares in his life. She helped him forget so much.

Devika tried to give him a graceful out, one in which they could still have a friendly relationship, but he pushed her, clung to her, used her to make himself feel good.

The short trip to Atlanta went by fast, and before he knew it, Erik was driving his Porsche to Devika's condo. Her car was parked in her spot and he rode the elevator to her unit. Jamming his keys to her place into the doorknob he was ready to make peace. It had been a week since he had seen her and all he wanted to do was hug her and let her know that—

Austin stood in the kitchen drinking orange juice straight from the plastic bottle. Naked. Erik blinked his eyes rapidly.

Ain't this a bitch.

Austin turned to look at him and the smug expression on his face set Erik off.

"Devika!" Erik shouted.

He stormed over to the open bedroom and Devika ran out wearing a gray sports bra and black pajama bottoms.

"What are you doing here?"

Her eyes held surprise and the calmness in her voice made him antsy.

"I missed you. I wanted to see you—"

"Get the fuck out!"

Austin's voice startled Devika. He was at Erik's heels, his wide chest puffed out, the orange juice still his hand.

Devika's eyes looked so sad.

Erik knew what her final decision was. He didn't have to ask. She was never really his.

"I'ma leave," he said backing away from her.

Walking out of the condo, his brain whirling in his head with so many disconnected thoughts, Erik found his car and promptly dropped down to the curb and cried. Like a baby.

He cradled his face and let the tears fall as his chest rattled with deep choking sobs.

"Erik…"

Devika dropped down next to him and held him. Rocking him in her arms.

"I didn't sleep with him, Erik, I didn't sleep with him…"

He rested his face on her neck and she stroked his shoulders.

"We went out to eat and talked some things out. He was too drunk to drive, so I made him sleep on the couch."

"Devika…" he choked out.

Her watery eyes stared at him and when her tears fell, he cried even harder and clutched onto her shoulder. He dropped his head to her lap and she rubbed his back until he couldn't cry anymore. When his breathing stopped having shuddery stops and starts, he sat up and looked at her. Her face was a wet mess.

"You were right. About us. I want you, but I know I can't give you what you need. What you dream about. I'm barely twenty and this is my first job. I still have grad school, and there are things I have to get done. I wanted you to be something in my life that made me feel normal. But you want something that only Austin can give you. I was just trying to steal a little bit of it for myself. You are so smart and beautiful, Devika. You treated me with respect and you were always honest with me. I took advantage of that. I know I did. You should work things out with him if that's what you want. I won't stand in your way. I want you to be happy. I care about you so much…but I'll never be what you need."

"Shut up!"

She hugged him tight and her body shook.

"God, just shut up, Erik."

"I just need you to be my friend."

"I can do that."

He tried wiping away her tears, but she held onto his fingers. She pressed her forehead into his.

"I'm not getting back with Austin. Just so you know. Thank you for giving me the space to figure that out on my own."

"Why that nigga gotta be naked to drink some juice?"

Devika laughed loud and long and Erik joined her.

They were going to be alright. He felt it in his bones.

Chapter 22 HERE.

###

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[anastasiaskarsgard]

Hydrangea

To read earlier chapters in this, go to my master list here

Warning: cursing and Smut!!! nsfw

Chapter 5

I ran through the house calling out for Max, but there was no happy little yip. No tip tapping of tiny nails on the hard floors. I checked each room, opening every door and closet, looking under every bed, but came up empty handed. I went outside shouting his name, in tears at this point. Every possible situation ran through my head. Wild animals, crazy eyes kidnappers, children, there was no telling! Realistically, He must of escaped when the cleaning people came. I decided to go on a hunt for him, when I heard the garden gate creak open. I looked over to find my beautiful bestie Bill walking towards me with a proud smile, carrying my little Max. Max began to wiggle like mad when he saw me, so Bill placed him down, and he raced over to me.

“Max!!! Oh my God! Where did you find him?” I squealed as I got down on the ground to celebrate reuniting with him.

“The neighbors down the way, found him earlier. They just swung by to ask if I knew where he lived and I did of course. No biggie!”

“I was having a freaking full on panic attack. Oh my gosh I am so happy! You’re a lifesaver!” I stood up and wrapped him in a tight embrace. I went to pull away, but he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“Mind if I stick around? It’s a little overwhelming over there.”

“Mi casa is su casa motherfucker! You can help me put stuff away.” I said as I pulled out of his arms, and headed towards the house.

“You’ve been looking for the dog all this time?”

I stuck my tongue out at Bill and ran in the house, with Max dancing at my heels. I went over to the radio and tuned it to some upbeat poppy music and I danced as I put things away. Bill sauntered into the kitchen with an amused look on his face.

“Do you dance?” I asked him holding out my hand.

“Not well.”

I was so happy I found Max! I was in the best mood and just wanted to dance and be happy. I wasn’t feeling awkward or shy around him, so I shimmied my way over to Bill swaying my hips as I took both his hands. I twirled around, catching both hands again putting my back to him. He was just chuckling, shaking his head. I knew I actually had pretty good rhythm, he just didn’t feel comfortable enough yet.

“I think I need a few shots before I embarrass myself,” he said.

I released his hands and skipped over to the items I needed to take to my room. There was quite a bit, but luckily Bill was right there to help. I never had to even ask. He took the majority of the items, while I just carried the toilet paper.

“What should I wear tonight?” I asked him since I wasn’t sure how casual I could get away with.

“Can I choose your outfit?”

“Seriously? Sure. Are you trying to make me love you? Because if you get me a cupcake, my heart is yours.” I turned to look at him but her appeared serious.

“Is that all it takes?” Bill asked mockingly.

“It’s cuz I’m easy, I’m easy like Sunday morning,” I sang out. “ oh, I gotta call my Auntie. You can look through the few clothes I have here if you like for a few ok?”

Bill nodded and I ran back in the kitchen to grab the phone. I dialed her number and was disappointed to get the machine but I left a message:

Auntie I’m not dead! Im so sorry if you thought so. I took my little dog and we went to the Summer house before anyone could hurt me. Been hanging with the Skarsgards and I’d love to see you! Kisses. Love you! Miss you! This is Lauren just in case that’s not obvious. Bye

Hopefully she’d call back before the party. I was curious what Bill was doing, so I quietly crept back to my room and found him comparing clothing with the cutest concentration look on his face. It still shocked me that this was what that knobby kneed, skinny little dork turned into. He for sure had an awkward phase, that I saw end, and the beginning of a dreamboat emerged but even then, I never dreamed he’d be this hot, not at this level.

“It’s rude to stare.” He said without turning around.

“I was just wondering if you wanted a Washington apple drink? I make pretty good ones.”

“That’d be great actually, thank you. By the time you’re back, I’ll have an outfit.”

I rushed to the bar and combined the ingredients into a shaker, pouring it over ice in two snifter glasses. There was still enough for another drink, but I just decided to down it. I didn’t want to get wasted, but I needed some liquid courage for what I was about to do.

I walked back in the room and found bill sitting on the bed, lost in thought. I walked up in front of him and I handed him his drink. He smelled it cautiously, took a sip and smiled. “Very tasty, I like it!”

“Was there ever a doubt?”

“You’re going to be the best dressed bitch there! Is there Crown in this?”

I trailed my hand down the length of his arm, watching carefully as his breath hitched at my touch. He looked up into my eyes, and I bit my lip, internally debating if I was really going to do this.

“You're a damn tease," he grumbled at me.

I giggled as I rubbed my leg against his and removed my dress in one fell swoop, standing before him in only my underwear. He eyed me up and down, but didn’t reach out, so I walked around the bed, looking at the clothes he had selected for me to wear. I felt my face getting hot by the embarrassment of getting practically naked, with no reaction. It was really only a mere moment, but it felt far, far longer than that. Finally, he got up and walked around, spinning me around to face him, and gently pushing me to sit, before he carefully spread my legs and settled in between them.

“Bill..."

A contemplative look settled on his face, and i squirmed a bit. It was a bit unnerving sitting in my underwear, while he was fully clothed, shamelessly looking over my body.

I huffed, and he snapped his eyes to mine with an arrogant smirk. Cocky bastard.

He regarded me once more and it took all my self control to sit there confidently like this wasn’t a big deal. It was. Every crazy insecurity in my brain was screaming. I started to think about all the beautiful celebrities he sees naked, and models, and suddenly felt silly, but I was just as curious, as I was aroused what he was going to do. Maybe he’d pick up the clothes and dress me, but he was gonna do something, and I was here for it. I Never have had a man look at me as if i was a problem to figure out.

He looks into my eyes and bites that damn swollen lip of his. “I’ve wanted you for my entire life. You’re my dream girl. Now you’re in front of me and I’m actually nervous. I never get nervous.” He chuckled.

“That’s actually really sweet Bill. Show me what you dreamed to do”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

His Hands settled on my hips, gently tugging me forward slightly, he leans over me, warm breath over my neck as he presses his lips to mine passionately. It’s as though someone has ignited a match under him and his kisses grow more and more desperate and needy in no time at all, turning us into panting, moaning messes. I feel His hand slide up my body, cupping my breast as his thumb rolls over my nipple. I clench at the comforter as his mouth trails downwards, teasing me with soft bites across my torso.

“Oh, fuck..." I whimper.

It seems to amuse him to see me try to keep my composure, in spite of the death grip on the comforter and my toes curling. I hated that he was being so patient and controlled as he played with my body, as we both caught our breaths. Mumbles of 'tease' and 'mean' accidentally slipped out of my mouth.

He pulled himself up, causing me to whine, as he hovered over me sporting a smirk on his face. "I'm mean now am I?"

"Don't play dumb Bill, you know what you’re doing."

He lowered himself down pressing his body against me, so I can feel his excitement against my thigh, making the reality of what was happening very well... real. It didn’t seem wrong tho.

“Don’t move,” he whispered in my ear. Fucking seriously? I was so turned on and wanted to touch him so bad, but I played along and watched him longingly as he slowly undressed, pausing to neatly fold his clothes into a pile. There was no need for rope, or anything to bind me. When he said not to move, i knew I better not dare move. He had a confident undertone I suspected liked being the boss. My breathy moans filled the air as he took his time, before settling his mouth on my chest, teasing and playing with my nipples, till finally my voice was full of desperation.

He migrated downwards, mouth moving south, before grasping beneath my knees, pulling my legs over his shoulders.

It took every ounce of my self control to hold still, to not grab him by his thick hair, and grind against his face when I felt his tongue slide between my folds, flicking over my clit. He had a heavenly mouth and a wicked tongue, And I loved that, but it was terrible now when it seemed like his goal wasn't to make me cum, but make me beg. His Tongue continued to ravage my clit, and i felt him slide a finger inside, and then a second, bending his fingers crooked and quickly finding the spot that made my whole body start to shake.

“Bill you fucking tease, I want you.” I mosned impatiently.

He laughed lowly but he didn't stop. The movement of his fingers was slow, and he sucked gently at my clit, tongue flicking against it, over and over again. He wanted me to slowly burn, until i was nearly mad with my arousal. I was moaning freely now, pleasure mounting steadily, but it wasn't enough to push me over the edge, it was just enough to keep me there teetering.

I wanted to touch him, wanted to push my sex against his face and make him, make me cum.

“Bill, please," I moaned, urgently, “Please, I need..." I needed him to make me cum, needed him to kiss me and fuck me. “I need you," i squeaked.

Bill growled and increased the pace of his fingers, while he increased the pressure of his tongue against my clit. My fingers curled, nails digging into my palms moaning, feeling my release hurtling towards me. I gave a loud cry as I came, eyes fluttering closed as Bill rode the wave, till the last drop of my orgasm was done.

I laid there blissfully, eyes still closed, until I felt him pull away from me, causing an instant panic and fear of him not wanting anything from me. I took a moment to steady my breathing, and stopped myself from leaping up seeming too needy. I told myself to play it cool as I slowly opened my eyes, to find him gazing down at me, raising his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean.

"God, you're so fucking hot." I felt stupid as soon as I said it, but I still felt spaced out, brain unable to come up with something more complex or romantic this soon after an orgasm.

He laughed a little and a genuine smile stretched across his face. I loved his smile. I couldn’t help but look up at him and smile like a fool.

“Come here, I have a secret to tell you.” I said mischeviously.

He leaned down over me, resting his weight on his elbows as he buried his hands in my hair, and kissed me. This was what I wanted. I could taste myself on his lips and tongue, and a thrill ran up my spine when I heard him moan quietly. I managed to pull back, just barely.

"Can I touch you?" I asked, gazing deep in his eyes.

There was fleeting panic on his face, but it quickly disappeared and he nodded.

I ran my fingers through his hair. He shuddered slightly, and my free hand reached down between our bodies, wrapping around the length of his cock. I watched his face as i stroked slowly, seeing his eyes darken as he made soft moans and gentle grunts. He was so beautiful.

"I want you, Bill, please?” I whimpered and the way he made me feel when I saw he wanted me too, is indescribable. Carefully settling his weight on one arm, he positioned himself at my entrance, pressing his lips into mine, as his hips pressed forward slowly. It was amazing feeling him completely inside, and both of us took a moment to adjust deepening our kiss.

Taking hold of my hand, Bill intertwined his fingers with mine, pinning it to the bed as he thrust into me, each thrust harder than the last. Shameless moans and heavy breathing filled the room, and i felt pressure on my hand as he squeezed it, almost in unison to his thrusts.

I was shocked to find myself quickly approaching another orgasm, but something about the urgency and harshness in his movements, and his lean body pressed against mine, combined with his scent and sounds he made was driving me insane. His name was now all I could say, over and over, till I arched my back, and screamed as i came a second time.

Bill’s own release followed shortly, my name whispered on his exhale, as he maintained the most intense eye contact I’ve ever experienced.

A comfortable silence filled the room, as I closed my eyes And he pressed his forehead against mine, catching his breath, still thrusting slowly as I rode out the last waves. I tilted my head to give him a brief kiss, and he opened his big green eyes. He smiled softly at me, and it made my heart flutter knowing that smile was just for me. I caused it.

“Wanna shower and head over to the party?” He asked.

“Everyone’s going to be able to tell we did this. I have a terrible poker face.”

“Nah, they won’t be able to tell till I get everyone’s attention and announce ‘excuse me everyone, but I finally fucked Lauren’” he teased. At least I hoped he was.

“You’re so bad.”

“Honestly my mother would probably start to plan our wedding.”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously! You should hear her talk about you! She adores you.”

“Bill I will 100% marry you to make your mother mine and won’t feel guilty at all. Seriously though, don’t tell anyone.”

“Why? Are you ashamed of me?”

“No Bill. After that performance and this face, no bitch has ever been ashamed of you. Just it’s none of their business.”

“Have you met them?”

He slowly pulled out of me, pulling me up to stand, and kissing me over and over as he lead the way to the shower. He turned on the water, and lead me inside, letting me stand in the water. I switched with him, watching the soap run off his body and the way he had to bend down a little bit to get his hair wet. He caught me looking and switched

“I feel like it’s you and me against the world again,” he beamed down at me.

I smiled and nodded, but then I turned into the water so he couldn’t tell that some of the water was coming from my eyes.

[pumpkins-s]

You know, it's not like i've been crying for the past 15 minutes, but I'm here to ressurect an old AU, here's to single mom Loraine feat. Mavis. Lance decides he wants to go to the Garrison, Mavis doesn't have an opinion (doesn't She really?). Aka Mavis is scared/ not okay with that but says Yes to his application, but lance knows her real feelings and they fight. Go ahead break my heart some more please.

Ok ok so I really want to write this prompt but I’m also like highkey dead because I’ve been in Canada all weekend straight after finals and have to spend this week writing my Pidge Big Bang fic in its entirety and then I remembered I had some Mom!Loraine AU I wrote for class so I hope you will accept this humble offering instead...

“Your boys are lovely. How old are they?” is the first thing the woman says to Mavis, smiling at her in that kind of simpering, potentially well-meaning way the older ones get around younger mothers—trying to calculate if they’re just family-oriented, or teen moms who eventually stopped being teens. It’s an appraisal, she knows. The former leads to admiration in most cases, the latter pity, or sometimes judgment. Loraine always got plenty of the last two, enough to make the both of them sick of it. Mavis is just on the right side of the line, though, where people can’t quite decide just from looking at her.

Mavis eyes the woman carefully, dropping the thumbs-up she’d been offering Lance and Tommy seconds ago, in response to their calls for her attention as they turned cartwheels in the sand.

She considers correcting either of the woman’s assumptions—telling her that she’s pretty sure Lance isn’t a boy. Not with the way he wears his hair long like his mother, likes floral shirts and short shorts and pink blankets as much as he does blue. Not with the way he flinches from the rough and tumble of most boys his age, looks anxious and uncomfortable when sorted into the boys’ group at school for sports. Could tell this woman that Mavis tries, that she sits him down awkwardly and tries to tell him that he can be a girl, if he wants, or something in between—God knows she doesn’t care, Lance is Lance no matter what he looks like—but that she’s not Loraine, not what he needs, and therefore isn’t very successful to begin with.

Could tell her that neither of the kids are hers, anyways. Not really. That Tommy is Jeff’s kid—her sometimes boss, her sometimes boyfriend, depending on who you ask or what stage of the day it is—but she seems to be the only one looking out for him, most days. That Lance isn’t hers, that he never was to begin with no matter how she feels about it, but the person he belongs with is gone and he’s only hers in a half-drafted will she never knew her cousin wrote that leaves Marcie screaming down the phone at her because that’s my nephew, Mavis, he belongs here with his aunts, and—

And. There’s always an and. Most of the time Mavis just gets a but: but I helped raise him, but Loraine put my name in that fucking paper and not yours, but he’s mine.

She could tell this woman so many things. Instead, she looks back to the playground, catches Lance and Tommy balancing precariously on the top of the jungle gym, arms out and wavering.

“Get down from there before you break your fucking necks!” she shouts at them, and Tommy laughs. She turns back to the woman, offers her a grim smile for her scandalized expression, an answer to a different question altogether, and digs her lighter out of her back pocket.

The woman takes a large step back as Mavis lights up her cigarette, turning to another horrified mother and whispering loudly about whether that’s legal. Mavis ignores them. She calculated the exact distance she has to be from the park to smoke months ago, in preparation for the battle she knew she’d eventually lose. She’s downwind, anyways. Wouldn’t risk it otherwise, paranoid to the nightmares she has about waking up to Lance coughing, coughing and coughing and coughing. Sick. Dying. She knows lung cancer isn’t prevalent in their family—no, that’s breast cancer, the one that took Loraine’s mother—but it’s still not worth the chance, when it comes to Lance.

She’d stopped smoking when he’d been born, mostly. Loraine had always given her patiently disappointed looks when she caught her on the fire escape doing it. Had always hidden her packets and her lighters, bought her nicotine patches, and talked her quietly through the itch that buried under her skin. Loraine’d always handled it, since they were teenagers, just as much as Mavis had always been prone to addiction—pills, cigarettes, booze...attention, love, that pretend family they’d had.

Jeff doesn’t care if she smokes. Does it himself more than she does, really, whether Tommy’s in breathing distance or not. Sometimes she likes that, the not-caring about her vices. Most of the time she wishes he did, that he would tell her no, tell her to keep her fucking shit together around his son.

Lance hates Jeff, she knows. Hates the late nights she works in his bar, hates the way he puts possessive hands on the small of her back and always tells Lance to go play in the other room. But she likes the money, the lack of worrying if she’ll make rent, the free takeout he brings when he invites himself over. Loves Tommy—the one thing she and Lance are agreed on. So Jeff stays.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she drops her cigarette, crushing it under her heeled, heavy boot—just another inappropriate thing for a parent to have—as she pulls out her phone. Marcie is calling, third time this week. It’s Tuesday.

Mavis puts her on silent, looks up at the sky.

It’ll rain soon. She’ll have to take the kids back home. Jeff will come get Tommy, or he won’t, and the kids will share Lance’s bed for the night. She’ll make burnt grilled cheese sandwiches and ignore her bills and fight with her cousins over the phone about the continued question of where Lance belongs. Marcie will say it isn’t fair, and Mavis will snap that life isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that Loraine’s dad crashed his car long before Lance was born, that Loraine’s mother lost her battle with her own body, that that bus hit Loraine—beautiful, brilliant Loraine, who wasn’t even thirty yet—and left Mavis and Lance alone. So, so freaking alone.

But for a little while longer, she’ll pretend.

Lance and Tommy call her name, and she goes to her boys.