#but you know what. whatever this is my blog and i can focus on whatever i want to.

[pixlokita]

Why do people like ggy? I don't like what it does to Gregory's characterization and how it makes Vanny pointless.

he’s just 👉👈 so sillay ! But that’s ok if you don’t like it :’> everyone has something they like and dislike >> just focus on what you like tbh

[asclexe]

formally apologizing to everyone for getting aborbed into the goofy devastatingn space n time travel show and that kind of fronting my blog along with regular post reblogs.. i feel like i’ve clicked baited you all with the house md reblogs and charming episode reactions and then a couple months later BOOM doctor who gifsets left and right..

[seveneyesoup]

what’s with literary criticism and taking freud at his word. stop that

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

The Alley (and Your Boyfriend?)

Minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. Smut written with AFAB reader in mind. ~2.8k words

Jason Todd is your ex-boyfriend. Kind of. You dated, yeah, sure. But it was in high school, years ago now. You had moved away before the school year had finished, and both of you agreed to remain friends, to keep in touch.

Life had different plans for both of you. The last time you had been in Gotham was for his funeral, so you think you deserve some leeway if you're staring at the man across the bar who looks just like him. Well, not exactly like him.

You're supposed to be celebrating your new job in Gotham, the apartment you've finally unpacked with your friends, but his eyes.

You could never forget the color of Jason Todd's eyes. Not when he was your first everything. Not when you know how his eyes would glint before he stole a kiss. How they would shine as he whispered sweet nothings and pretty promises.

(Okay, so maybe he was more to you than you're willing to admit. Maybe he wasn't just kind of your boyfriend.)

You'd probably be lost in thought over the color of his eyes for the rest of night, if his gaze didn't happen to meet yours.

Heat spreads across your face, and you duck your head. Shit. He caught you staring. The big, attractive man across the bar who has the eyes of your dead ex-boyfriend caught you staring.

That's fine. Mortifying, yes, but you quickly focus back on whatever your friends are talking about, trying to play it off.

You're finishing your drink, hoping he brushed you off, when a low voice cuts in, "Can I buy you another drink?"

Your eyes snap up to meet Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Your train of thought halts to a stop, he's ever prettier up close.

Before you've even managed to find your words, your friends are pushing you up and out of your seat, scrambling over each other to agree that he can absolutely buy you a drink.

He tilts his head a little at you, feet firmly planted against the ground as he waits for you to answer, "Is that a yes from you, doll?"

"I– yes. Thanks," You stumble out, and you might have gone a little weak in the knees at his grin.

He guides you over to the bar, and holds up two fingers as the bartender comes over. "Whiskey, and whatever they want."

You ask for a refill of your drink and sit beside him at the bar before introducing yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "I'm Jason."

"My ex was named Jason," You blurt out, then wince. That's probably not what anyone wants to hear when they're introducing themselves. And it's definitely not what they want to hear while trying to pick someone up at a bar.

He hums thoughtfully, "I don't remember breaking up with you."

You blink at him, is that some kind of a pick-up line? "No, I meant, I really dated someone named Jason in high school."

He grins at you, "I know. I was there."

You frown a little, "Like in the same class?"

He laughs. It's a really pretty sound, if you weren't so confused, you would have swooned, "No, doll. Don't tell me you don't recognize me?"

Your gaze hardens, "If this is some kind of a joke–"

He says your name, effectively cutting you off, "It's me."

"He died," You murmur, so quiet it almost gets lost under the beat of the music.

He shrugs, and pushes your drink towards you as the bartender sets it down, "I got better."

"Prove it," You retort, fingers tapping the glass of your drink. You're this close to up and leaving. It makes your stomach churn, not knowing what game this man is playing.

He gives you a familiar, lopsided grin, "Prove that I got better?"

You scoff and go to stand up, but you waver at how he actually seems upset over it.

"Hey, hey, wait," he protests, holding out an arm to block you from leaving, "We had our first kiss in the back of Wayne Manor, in that old gazebo covered in vines. You asked me out because I was so obviously head over heels for ya, but I was too scared to ask. You said you'd wait for me when your family moved, and I said I'd wait for you too."

Your breath hitches at his rambling, it's–all of it is true. Memories you held close to your chest but never let yourself relive because of how much they hurt, the bittersweetness of it all. "Jason," You breathe out.

He relaxes, and smiles at you, "Yeah."

"How are you..." You trail off, taking in every inch of him. How much he's grown. How much he's changed.

He rubs the back of his neck, "It's, uh, a long story. It's not very nice either."

You nod slowly, "We don't have to talk about it."

He looks genuinely surprised, "We don't?"

"No, it's just good to, you know, see you," You tell him. It's the truth, whatever story he's carrying, whatever events brought him here, doesn't really matter right now. Not as long as he's alive and in front of you.

"It's good to see you too," Jason tells you, and you feel butterflies when he reaches over to touch your thigh, "Hey, am I really your ex?"

The absurdity of the question makes you want to laugh, "It has been a while since we talked, Jason."

You do giggle when he actually pouts at you, "You said you'd come back to Gotham for me one day."

"I am back in Gotham," You point out, "Got an apartment here and everything."

Interest sparks in his eyes, "Yeah? You're staying around here?"

You hum noncommittally, "In Gotham at least."

It surprises you, how easy it is to slip back into a flowing conversation with him. You reminisce about your shared past, he asks you what you've been up to, how your life has been, and before you know it, your drinks are empty and the bar is informing you of it's last call.

"Can I walk you home," Jason asks, hovering at your side, "or call you a ride?"

Your friends had long since told you they were leaving, and you have the urge to make this night last a little longer. It may be selfish, to want to stay in sight of those eyes, but you let yourself be selfish, "Walk me home?"

The way his eyes sparkle tells you you made the right choice.

You really do mean for him just to walk you home. So you're not exactly sure how you ended up making out with your ex-boyfriend in a dirty alley way.

It makes your head spin, how his hands dig into your waist to tug you closer. How he chases your mouth every time you pull back to suck in a breath.

It's desperate, needy, and you want to keep your fingers curled into the cool leather of his jacket forever. Jason crowds your space, backing you towards the wall, he trails kisses down your jaw, occasionally nipping at your skin to leave pretty, bruised marks.

"Wait–" You start, digging your heels into the ground.

He pauses, and pulls back, "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't meant to–"

"No!" You practically shout, not wanting him to misunderstand, "it's just– the wall is dirty," You finish weakly.

He blinks, then grins at you, "Is that all you're worried about, doll? Just the wall?"

You nod, sheepish as you fidget with the zipper of his jacket.

He hums thoughtfully and kisses the crown of your head, "I got something for ya," he murmurs, tugging off his leather jacket.

Before you can ask what he's doing, he drapes the coat over your shoulders, and guides your arms through the sleeves, "There, better?"

"Better," You echo, much more willing to let him push you against the wall, to let him suck your pulse and press his hands under your clothes. The leather is soft, smells like him, and the bricks behind you don't even register as he presses against you.

You're both eager, both grasping at fabric and skin. Your eyes light up, when as you're licking a stripe up his neck, Jason tilts his head back and moans.

It's a noise you want to hear again, and when you take his ear between your teeth, you're rewarded with another sweet sound.

Neither of you waste any time to push aside the clothes you're wearing. Half-dressed and panting, you fumble with his belt in the empty alley. He doesn't hesitate to hike your leg over his hip, pressing sloppy kisses along your jaw.

"You're sure about this," Jason asks, lips hovering over the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck.

"Yeah," You breathe out, tangling a hand in his hair to steady yourself, "Are you?"

"Never been more sure of anything," he says firmly, and bites down on your skin as if to seal his words as fact.

He's hungry, as he captures your mouth with another passionate kiss, and you're just as desperate and wanting. Desire pools in your gut as you grind your hips into his, voice pitching into a whine, "Please?"

The neediness in your eyes when you look up at him nearly makes his knees buckle, "Fuck, yes, doll. Whatever you want."

He's not one to make you ask again, and shamelessly presses a finger to your cunt. "Look at you," he breathes out, slowly pumping one finger in and out, gathering your wetness, "You're dripping."

You don't bother choking back the whine that escapes your lungs, only grab his hair tighter when he adds a second finger, carefully working you open for him.

His eyes, your breath catches, when his eyes seem to darken, coveting every reaction you have, every expression that flits across your face.

"Feels good, doll'" he coaxes, scissoring his fingers. When all you manage is a hazy nod, he grins and adds a third finger, curling them as he presses deeper, "C'mon, you can use your words."

"Jason, yeah, feels good," You answer, breathless and full of desire. You squirm, bucking your hips into his hand in an attempt to get him to move faster, "but I want you."

He hums thoughtfully, and presses the palm of his hand to your clit, grinding into the sensitive flesh. When your eyes flutter and your body clenches around him, he coos in approval.

"Good," he says fondly, pressing a kiss to your lips before slowly pulling his fingers away. You almost pout at the loss, but the sight of him lewdly licking off the remnants of you in his hand more than makes up for it.

Your jaw may have dropped, and you may have looked a little more dumbfounded than you're willing to admit, but any embarrassment turns to excitement when he lines his cock up to your weeping pussy.

Neither of you looks away as he pushes into you, inch by delicious inch. It turns you into a whimpering, groaning mess as you sigh out his name, eyes half lidded.

“Yeah, pretty,” He prompts, voice a low rumble as he watches you. He can't pick which sight he likes better, the way your eyes flutter, or the way you're greedily taking in everything he has to give.

He can’t help the smug smirk that spreads over his face when you mewl out his name, clearly delighted at the effect he has on you. “There you go, Doll. Let me hear you say my name again," He coos, trailing his free hand over your thigh to find your clit again.

You're eager to chant his name again when he starts to shallowly thrust between your legs. He moans when you clamp down around his dick, and it spurs him to move faster.

Jason groans deeply as he feels your body react, his eyes darkening with desire as he pushes into you again. You both breathe out a sigh of relief and ecstasy when you take him to the base of his cock.

"Good. Doing so good, doll," he mumbles, using all his self-control to hold the pressure against your cervix for a few moments, letting you adjust, before pulling back slightly.

You tug a little at his hair, it's addicting, how full he makes you feel, how desperate you are for more, "You can move, want you to move."

He hums, and seems more interested in moving his mouth along your jaw, biting and sucking his way down your neck to leave marks on your skin. Jason sucks a prominent bruise onto your freshly bitten skin until it’s pretty and bruised and all his.

You groan, and it only encourages him to drag his hand from your folds and pinch your nipple between his fingers.

"Jason," You protest, rolling your hips to try and entice him to finally move.

“Mhm. You like the sound of my name, pretty? You wanna keep saying it while I make you feel good?” He murmurs, his voice low and rough and breathless against your skin.

He starts to roll your nipple between his fingers, pinching and kneading the sensitive peak.

"Jason, move'" You whine, almost desperate. His eyes lock on your eyes, and you're completely lost to him.

His thumb gives your nipple one last swipe before he settles his hand between your thighs again, eyes raking over your face like he wants to memorize the expression of pleasure that’s taking over at the moment, "There you go, it sounds so perfect when you say my name like that."

His other hand squeezes your thigh affectionately, and before you can protest again, he pulls halfway out, savoring how you twitch around him. You cry out in pure pleasure when he thrusts back into your heat.

He swallows your cries with a kiss, and starts to pick up his pace, steady and relentless.

You can only tip your head back and moan, as you drag your nails along his scalp, panting and trembling under his grip.

“So goddamn good,” Jason mutters, pressing himself as deep as he can go with every movement. He starts to ramble your name, driving his cock against the spot that makes you gasp over and over.

He's relentless, all consuming and you almost miss it when he murmurs against your throat, "Not your ex now, am I?"

You curse, and shudder around him, clawing at his shoulder. It doesn't make his pace falter, if anything it drives him to push a little more, to move a little fast, to test your limits.

You feel his pleased smile form against your skin when you start to chant his name, breathless and needy and so, so close to the edge.

"There ya go, come for me, doll," he encourages, and when you do, when you soak his cock and sob his name, he fucks you through your climax.

He ruts into your fluttering hole until his own hips stutter, his fingers dig into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, and he cums inside of you. He rides out both of your releases, fucking his spend back into you even as it starts to leak and drip down your thighs.

Jason presses his forehead to yours, going still against you, his eyes dart over your face as you both pant, sticky, sweaty, and messy. He grins at you when you blink at him with glassy eyes, "You look good like this. I could see it every day, and it still wouldn't be enough."

You're not exactly sure where he finds the energy to praise you, but it makes you tuck your face against his shoulder as you catch your breath.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, "Gonna take you home and run you a bath. Then, we're gonna cuddle till you fall asleep and I'll make you breakfast in the morning. Sound good?"

You whine softly when he pulls out of you, already mourning the feeling of him inside you, but you manage to nod.

True to his word, Jason carries you home and draws you a bath. You fall asleep with him curled around you, and when you wake up, the sound of him cooking breakfast makes its way to the bedroom.

And if you entice him to bend you over the counter before you eat, letting the food go cold, or suggest you show him just how well you fit in his lap, that's none one's business but yours.

It shouldn't surprise you, if you do encourage him to find out what you taste like on his tongue, that Jason never really leaves. Sooner rather than later, he'll make sure any use of the word 'ex' disappears from your lips.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:

AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?

I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.

For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.

None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.

The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.

He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.

I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."

I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.

Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?

What are these acronyms?

Original post

The update

[marvelouslizzie]

Same Lonely Night

summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes hears you pleasure yourself and moan something he never thought he would be into. That forces him to face his feelings for you.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

word count: 2.6K

warnings: 18+, masturbation, fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n

A/N: This is the second part of A Lonely Night. This time we are seeing Bucky's POV and what comes next. You don't have to read that part to understand what's going on but if you want to, you can find it on my blog/masterlist. I planned this as a 3-part story and I hope I'll maintain my inspiration and motivation to write the last part. Wish me luck!

Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. You are the best!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

Bucky’s head is resting on the shower wall while the water is running down. His flesh hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he doesn’t move it. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he’s trying to calm himself down. 

He really had no intention to listen to you. He was just watching the news mindlessly, but his enhanced hearing turned into a curse the moment he heard you taking a sharp breath. He couldn’t help but focus on the noises you made. That’s when he started to hear the way you were touching yourself. Every stroke, every rub, every muffled moan… 

He knew what you were doing was private and he had no right listening to it, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. How could he? You were so needy and subby. Even in your fantasy, you were begging. He wondered what you were imagining. Who were you begging? Your crush? Maybe you have been seeing someone.

That thought had never occurred to him before. You were always in your element, working, chilling at home, doing whatever you enjoyed in your spare time, and occasionally going out with your friends. You never brought someone home. Not yet at least. So he never questioned if you were seeing someone or not. Even if there was someone, he wouldn’t know, and that thought suddenly hurts him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your moans bring him back to reality. If you are seeing someone why are you so needy? Are you just that greedy or has it been that long? He’s certainly hoping for the latter. That’s something he can relate to, and it's probably been much longer for him. That’s why he can’t stop listening. That’s why his cock is painfully hard. Normally he would just remove himself from the house, and give you some space instead of creeping like this.

“Oh please, fuck me.” He would do anything to be able to do that. Anything. Just to be in that room with you, taking his time exploring your body and satisfying your needs. Even just the thought of it drives him crazy. “Fuck me, daddy, please.” 

That surprises him on so many levels. He never thought you would be into that. You look pretty innocent. He wouldn’t assume you would have such dirty fantasies. Fucking an old man… Are you into older men or is it just a little fantasy you are playing? Maybe you are seeing someone old. Maybe that’s why your mind goes there. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on in your private life, and every word that comes out of your mouth confuses him even more. It creates more problems, but the biggest one is, when he heard daddy, his dick twitched with excitement. So it makes him question himself, too. Is he into younger women or is it because you were the one saying it? The latter somehow seems more likely. Yet all of that doesn’t change the fact that he’s listening to you and getting hard just because of it. 

“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He hears how your head falls onto the pillow while your whole body is shaking, and how much you are enjoying it. He knows this is his cue. He should just remove himself from the living room so he won’t get caught with a hard-on. He doesn’t miss a beat. Quickly, he turns the TV off and runs to the bathroom. 

That’s how he ended up here, head pressed against the cold shower tiles, thinking about the way you said daddy over and over again. He is trying really hard not to give in, but his cock is aching with need. A part of him thinks he should just give in. It’s not such a big deal. Everyone masturbates. You just did. Three fucking times! That thought makes him groan. If you can come three times just by masturbating,how many times could he make you come? 

So it’s not even a conscious decision when he starts to stroke himself when he starts thinking about making you come. He can’t stop himself from imagining how you would look under him or on top of him. It doesn’t matter which position. He just wants to feel you. Your moans are echoing in his head while he caresses the top of cock. Just one stroke and it makes him tremble. He can’t remember the last time he felt this turned on. He can’t remember the last time his whole body heated up like this, just at the thought of someone. But you aren’t just anybody. You are you.

Maybe it’s because it has been ages since he had sex. Perhaps it’s because of his growing crush on you. He tried to control those feelings, thinking he was too old for you. He thought you would never look in his direction. Why would you? You are intelligent, beautiful and so cute. Like all these qualities aren’t enough, you are always so thoughtful. You always ask if he wants your leftovers, or if he needs help with anything. He knows he wakes you up at night sometimes. His nightmares are loud, but you never complained. Not once. You always let him watch the news even though you would rather watch something else. You even lent some books to him. They were in such good condition he couldn't believe his eyes. It was like reading a brand-new book. So yeah, he really tried to act like it was nothing but a silly crush, but after hearing the way you moan daddy he can’t stop himself anymore. It was as if you awakened something inside him.

He doesn’t know what to do. Should he take his time or just get over with it? He keeps his fingers loose, stroking himself up and down slowly while his head still rests on the tiles. Even with minimal effort, it feels so good. He gently cups his balls, massaging them and imagining you are the one doing it. You are the one touching the most intimate parts of his body. You are the one ready to satisfy his growing need.

“Oh fuck.” A moan escapes his lips. The shower is running and you don’t have a super hearing like him, so he knows he’s safe. Still, it feels like it’s something he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t be touching himself. He shouldn’t be moaning like this, yet you are so beautiful and needy… He already wanted you before hearing how you sound in bed, but now he wants you even more. He wants to be the one to bring you pleasure. He wants to be the one that satisfies all your needs so much that you would never need to touch yourself. Unless it’s to tease him.

He’s feeling guilty. So fucking guilty, but there’s no way he could stop now. Imagining you does something to him. There’s this primal need in his abdomen, building up.

His fingers tighten around his cock, moving faster than before, and he presses his lips together, trying not to make a sound. He keeps rubbing on that one sensitive part of his cock and finally, he starts coming with a choke. He keeps stroking himself, thinking it will be over soon, but it doesn’t end. There’s so much come that it surprises him. His hands continue pumping and his come paints the bathroom tiles immediately. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, trying to collect himself.

It feels like his head is spinning. He had been masturbating for quite some time, but he doesn’t remember the last time it felt this good. He opens his eyes, trying to ground himself, and all that shame he feels comes rushing in while looking at the mess he made. He groans loudly and then reaches for the showerhead. It doesn’t take long for him to clean the shower and then himself with the thought of you is still on the back of his mind. He is soaping himself, scrubbing, and then rinsing while trying to convince himself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just masturbation. It’s normal.

Of course, he knows how normal it is. It’s like breathing, eating, or drinking water. His body needs it so he gave in, but listening to you and touching himself while thinking about you… That’s where he crossed the line. He knows it, yet he can’t bring himself to wish he never heard you. He might be a creep or a pervert, it doesn’t matter. Your voice, the way you sound while coming, and the way you touch yourself are stacked in his memory forever. It’s something no one can take away from him.

Sighing, he steps out of the shower. Drying himself doesn’t take too long. When he steps into the living room, all that welcomes him is silence. You are still in your bedroom, God knows doing what. The TV is off, and nothing seems to have moved since he ran to the bathroom. So he’s safe. You haven’t heard or suspected anything.

Quietly, he goes back to his room, finds something to put on and just looks in the mirror. Is he really too old for you or is that all in his mind? He doesn’t look older than 35, but that doesn’t change when he was born.

What if you are into that, though? What if you really like older guys? That would change everything, wouldn’t it? You would like that he’s older than you. Maybe you would even call him daddy, just like you did in your fantasy. That thought makes the blood rush back to his cock, making him feel the arousal running through his veins once again. Like he didn’t masturbate in the shower a couple of minutes ago. 

He knows his anatomy by now. He knows he’s able to get hard again pretty quickly thanks to the super soldier serum, but he hasn’t been this horny for a long time. Especially not because of the thought of someone, but the thought of you calling him daddy… 

Jesus… It makes him so hard!

Sighing, he drops his whole weight on the bed and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to touch himself again. It’s for the best if he stops thinking about you and focuses on something else, isn’t it? He tries to think of something, anything that could take his mind off of you, but nothing, absolutely nothing is more interesting. Nothing he tries to focus on lasts. His mind goes running back to you, imagining how you would look the moment he would push himself inside you. How your mouth would open, how you would throw your head back, and how wonderful it would feel.

That thought does it. It breaks his resistance. All the effort he put into not touching himself again goes out of the window, especially once he imagines you saying “Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder.” His hand goes under his boxers, slowly toying with his cock. It feels like he didn’t touch himself today, and the need is even stronger now. After a couple of strokes, he realizes he can’t move his hand properly like this, so he pushes down his shorts and boxers at the same, creating some space for movement. 

He looks down at his cock, already oozing with precum. His flesh hand moves on top of the head and smears it all the way down, making it easier for him to play with himself. He sets a steady rhythm, testing what feels right, but his precum isn’t enough to make it enjoyable. That’s when he reaches for his nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. His metal hand works fast, opening the bottle and putting a generous amount on hisnhand, before he puts it back and starts to touch himself. 

Now it feels much better. His hand works seamlessly from the top to the bottom, repeating the same movement a couple of times. He tries to get lost in his fantasies but something feels off. He isn’t sure what it is because what he’s doing is enjoyable. Something is not enough. Maybe he should work faster. So that’s what he tries. His hand starts to move faster on his cock, but that’s not helping. 

He’s pretty sure this is what his body wants especially because he’s still rock hard. Should he be more gentle and take his sweet time? That doesn’t seem to work, either. Does he need a tighter grip? Maybe, but he can’t do more with his flesh hand. He glances at his metal hand for the first time since he started. He never used it to pleasure himself before. The flesh looked and seemed more appealing than metal, yet right now it’s not enough.

There’s a first time for everything.

He reaches for the lube once again. This time he uses his flesh hand and pours some on his metal one as he tries to convince himself that this is not a bad idea.

He goes right back into touching himself, just with his metal hand this time. It feels different, really different, and surprisingly okay. It doesn’t feel as warm. The texture is completely different yet it somehow works. His fingers start to work faster, his thumb brushing over the head and, thanks to the lube, it starts to feel much better than he ever expected. His reluctance slowly fades away and he decides to test how fast he can move his metal hand and how much his cock can actually take it. As he paces up, pleasure starts to build so unexpectedly. He takes a deep breath but keeps moving his hand. His head is now thrown back while with the flesh hand, he cups his balls, gently massaging them.

“Oh god…”

He doesn’t realize that he's just said that out loud. He just keeps working on himself, letting his whole body relax under that pleasure. He really didn’t intend to focus on you this time, but here you are again, in his mind. The image of you on top of him… You with all your charm and cuteness, touching him, making him feel this good while he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks them until you can’t take it anymore. It drives you crazy, so you beg him to fuck you. Just like you begged while touching yourself.

“Please, please, please… I really need it, please…”

He can hear it so clearly like you are here and really begging him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that really happen.

“Anything you want, doll.”

His fingers move like they have a mind of their own. He knows he should slow down a little, make this one last a bit longer because it feels amazing, but his metal hand isn’t listening to him.

“Oh fuck, fuck.” 

He knows he’s about to come. He can feel it. It’s right there, just a few strokes away. He loses his damn mind imagining you under him, split open, and getting railed by him. God, that would feel so fucking good! You looking at him with those big beautiful eyes and begging him for more… Then your name slips out of his lips like it’s the most natural thing to say at that moment. 

Right when he’s about to come, a loud noise comes from the living room. Like something has just got shattered into pieces. His eyes fly open. He grabs his shorts and puts them on quickly, tucking his freaking erection away, and opens his door to see you standing there with an oversized T-shirt on. The glass you were probably holding is on the ground, but you don’t seem to care about that. You are looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Shit! She heard me.

[thatgirlie-diaries]

How I get out of a slump

Hello girlies! Welcome to another blog of mine. This topic was very spontaneous for me to write about. I'm having a writers block since last week because I have been stuck in a rut, that's my reason bts. I'm going to tell you my personal tips to get out of this state and regain your consistency on a healthy lifestyle!

My tips

Journaling: You may do this step whenever you feel it's right, but I think it's important to be concious about why are you in a rut in the first place and what you can do for you to feel better and get back stronger. You may let yourself just dump and feelings or go to Pinterest and look out for prompts.

Tidy up my space & take a shower: I truly believe that our space is a reflection of our own mind, as so I think that I reflect my state in how much I take care of my appearance and hygiene. So, this is the first thing I do to step into a state in which I feel clean and calm and able to focus on my mind after taking care of my physical space. Take your time to cleanse yourself!

Listen to high vibe music: I know my ruts happen in first place because I am in a low vibrational state and with a negative mindset. Even if it's not your case, I reccomend you to listen to songs that motivates you and empowers you up to again make an effort for yourself , rather than listening to low mood lyrics.

Revisit your goals: it's time to think again about what are the things you want to accomplish. Ask yourself what do you need to get back on track: Are there any goals that don't align with you no more or you need to change to be accomplished? What are the habits or steps you need to take?

Take it slow: We are just getting out of a rut, so it has been hard for us this days to keep track on habits and goals, even to do simple things. Girl, take it easy and at your own peace, no one is chasing you and your wellness it's first before other matters. If you need to, break down your habits or steps into small ones. One of my favorite reminders is "something is better than nothing". Examples: You don't feel with the energy to clean your room? Use a timer of 10 minutes. Can't read? Just read one page. What matters is that you are making an effort to be in a better place.

Take care of your health: First things first. Related to other points of the blog, take care fo your health and then focus on heavier effort or alongside doing small but significant actions. Health is something we start neglecting when we are in a slump (alongside keeping our space clean, our goals & habits and our mind). Make sure you are sleeping well, having a healthy diet, doing exercise, take some sun, whatever you need to do to have a healthy body.

Be consistent!: Consistency will be an important point in this one. For me, the hardest thing is taking the decision to take the first steps, after it keep them on track until you feel better. Rather than seeing it as discipline, see it as devotion. Think that "you are being devoted in taking care of yourself and giving you the best present and future", it sounds lovely, isn't it?

Health + Clean space → Reflection → Revisit your goals → Take small steps →Consistency

Let's get out of this one together! 𑄽𑄺ྀ

[jj-one]

STRAY KIDS + WHEN YOU’RE BUSY AND THEY CRAVE YOUR ATTENTION !

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: skz x f!reader genre/tags: smut, fluff, nipple play, fingering, exhibitionism, voyeurism, marking, sexting, sending nudes, piv, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap ur willy), masturbation, oral (f receiving), dry humping, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, spanking, there is probably more but i’m too lazy to write them all words: 4.4k

[note] if you remember seeing this before yes i’m the original author i didn’t plagiarize lol, i made a new blog and was formerly known as @milkychae but deleted a while ago. i’ll be reposting all my old deleted fics and using this as an archive !

BANG CHAN. It was finals week, aka your personal hell. You were always super nervous about tests and if you didn’t score over an 80% that may as well be a failure to you. You sighed as you opened yet another textbook to read, your dickhead professor thought it would be a good idea to pile more homework on top of the fact knowing you all needed to study. Your major was biochemical engineering so you shouldn’t have been too shocked by all this intense workload. As you were sitting on the bed you heard a noise come from the door, looking to the left of you to see Chan coming inside. You don’t really put much thought into it though since you see him literally everyday and you were just really focused on studying right now. That’s when Chan starts to come up behind you, rubbing your shoulders and planting a kiss to your cheek.

“Hiii y/n, I’m back!” He says cheerfully, “I couldn’t wait to see you baby,” he proceeds to try and pry the textbook out of your hands so you can give him your full, undivided attention but you pull it back.

“Sorry babe but I really, really need to study right now.” You tell him with an exhausted look on your face. You’ve been studying for only 2 and a half hours but it feels like the entire day.

Chan looks at you and puts his arm around you, “You look so tired sweetie, why don’t you let me give you a massage?” He asks, already starting by wrapping his hands back on your shoulders.

You loved this man dearly, he just came back home from an 8 hour shift at work but is still offering to give you massages and help you out when you’re stressed. You want to tell him no and that you seriously need to focus back on studying but the intrusive thoughts were slowly winning. Ultimately you gave in to Chan’s desires and he gave you a gentle massage. The massage started off pure at first with no intention of going any further but then his hands slipped a little too far and came in contact with your nipple. He noticed you weren’t wearing a bra underneath so he slips his hand through the opening of your t-shirt, light moans were now leaving your mouth from his touch.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day babe,” Chan softly whispers while pinching your nipples, bringing his other hand down to your thigh and gently caressing it. Chan has always been good at being a distraction for you and his cock is definitely what you need instead of reading about the Principles and Techniques of Molecular Physics.

LEE KNOW. Saturday nights were the best, you had no work and got to do whatever you wanted for the whole day. You weren’t much of an outgoing kind of person so you chose to stay in and have your boyfriend Minho come over and be lazy with you. You were wrapped up in your cozy sherpa blanket watching your favorite kdrama season finale, you and Minho both loved kdramas but you got way too into them. Your eyes have been glued to the show since Minho got there and you only spoke about three sentences to him. He’s sitting on the couch next to you and he’s not as remotely interested in the show as you are, he keeps looking around the room and sneaking glances at you from time to time.

He can’t stop noticing how cute you look today, you were wearing very light makeup and had messy hair. He thought you looked so adorable in your current state, just in awe of your natural beauty. He wraps his arm tightly around you and tries to give you a kiss, but you quickly pull away from him so you can focus back on the TV, not trying to miss anything. Minho gets visibly upset by this, he wants to give you his affection yet you’re currently denying it. He tries one more time to kiss you but you continue to keep pulling away to watch the show. That’s when he decides he’s had enough and grabs the remote to turn off the TV, causing you to get frustrated with him.

“What the hell Minho?!” You say in confusion, you were getting so close to knowing who the girl’s father finally was.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just starts roughly kissing you, pushing you down on the couch and hovering over your body. He pulls away leaving you breathless, then proceeds to nibble on your earlobe, dragging his tongue further down to lightly suck on your neck, touching a certain spot that makes you inhale sharply. He brings one of his hands to your stomach, rubbing it gently. Beginning to toy with the hem of your sweatpants and wants nothing more than for them to be off.

He was almost going to give in to that idea but a new one came to mind, an even more sinister thought. He grins as he continues rubbing down your thigh, you want him to wipe that smirk off his face so badly because you have no idea what he’s up to. Wondering what he could possibly be thinking about right now. Minho brings his fingers to your clothed heat, sliding them inside the sweatpants and starts rubbing your clit through your panties. You moan for him as you close your eyes, feeling the friction. You buck your hips in the air so you can feel more of him, but Minho grips your hips and holds them firmly in place.

“No, stop. No moving ‘til I say so,” Minho says sternly, giving your clothed pussy a little slap as he looks at you. “Since you’re so willing to ignore me, I get to tell you what to do from now on.”

CHANGBIN. You’ve been cleaning the entire house preparing for your parents to come over for dinner. You wanted to make sure that everything was perfectly spotless and the amount of cleaning you did today could account for your whole lifetime. You were cleaning the stove and just as you were about to grab another clean sponge you see Changbin with a whole box full of donuts from Krispy Kreme.

“How’s it goin’ babe?” Changbin asks while setting the donuts onto the table, he sees you wearing an apron and giant yellow gloves, “looks like you’ve been doing some serious, hard labor!”

“I’ve been cleaning for 5 hours now..” You say with an exhausted look on your face, “I haven’t even finished cleaning the stove yet.”

“Who cares about the stove y/n,” Changbin says, chuckling at your frustration about needing everything to be neat and tidy.

“I’m serious Binnie, I need to clean everything and make sure it’s all perfect!” You tell him while pouting.

“Why don’t you take a break babe.” He suggests out of concern, grabbing your hands to take your gloves off and sets them aside. He slowly brings your body up against the wall behind you, kissing you passionately. He must have been wanting you all day by the way he was hungrily kissing you, the man was sucking on your face for dear life, exploring the depths of your mouth as both your tongues were intertwined. He takes off your apron and grips his hands around your waist while your leg wraps around him, he held you so securely.

As things got more heated, and all your clothes were off, he aligned himself inside you. Your hands were snaked around his neck as you desperately move your hips to feel his cock, feeling every bit of his thrusts in you. Letting out a high-pitched moan as you grab a fistful of his hair and scream his name. Your legs grew weak with each and every stroke Changbin gives you, feeling like you’re going to faint. He continues pounding into you like no tomorrow and you hold tightly onto his shoulders for support. His skin was sticky and sweaty from all the work he’s putting into fucking you, his face looked super focused as he was hitting all the right spots. He was fucking all your stress away at this point and you were feeling so good. You feel yourself coming to your peak as he thrusts into your dripping heat, you’re seeing stars at this point. The harder his strokes were getting, the faster you were to reaching your climax.

“Mmm…gonna cum!” You cry out in pleasure, slowly losing your grip on him as you slip from his grasp. Changbin swiftly picks you up and pins you harder into the wall, making sure you don’t go anywhere by fully pinning his body up against yours. You feel so connected to each other in this very moment as you’re both about to cum, both letting out a string of moans in unison. You both reach your highs together, dizzy as your orgasm washes over you, feeling his cum leaking out of your cunt and dripping down to your leg. You just spent the whole day cleaning and now you have to get cleaned up before your parents come in approximately 30 minutes.

HYUNJIN. It was a long day at work, you were about 6 hours in and you already wanted to end it all. You work at a clothing store and on this particular day for some reason everyone and their mom wanted to come shopping. You’ve been working the register nonstop and you had yet to take a break, you were so busy that you forgot to even take one. You asked one of your coworkers if they could cover for you while you go on lunch and they said yes. You were so excited to finally be able to get to sit down and eat. As you sat in the break room you checked your phone for any missed messages, you see that you have a bunch of missed texts from the new guy you’re seeing. Hyunjin’s name is plastered on your phone and you check the messages straight away, eyes growing wide at what was shown before you. Hyunjin sent you a string of messages:

‘Hey y/n, what’s up?’ [1:15 pm]

‘Imyyy’ [1:25 pm]

‘Wyd? Are you at work?’ [1:42 pm]

‘Yea you’re prob at work :P’ [2:26 pm]

‘I’m a little horny lol’ [2:41 pm]

‘I want youuuu’ [3:02 pm]

He then proceeds to send you a couple shirtless pics of him in bed and a short video of him stroking his erect cock through his boxers. You quickly look around to see if anyone would be able to notice and you don’t see anyone else in the break room besides you. That’s when you open the video fully to see the rest, quickly get turned on as your wetness is only growing. You ran to the bathroom so you can send a photo back, snapping a quick pic of your boobs under your shirt and telling him how wet that video made you at work. You love that he now comes to you for when he feels needy, you like that he craves your attention while you’re gone. He sends you another message saying how much badly he wants to fuck you and he can’t to pick you up from work. You smile at that and tell him you only have 2 more hours to go.

You realize it’s time to get back to work and now all you can think about is that damn video Hyunjin sent you. The way he was stroking his cock all nice and slow made you want to be there to give him even more pleasure. You were walking around all day with wet and sticky panties since you came a little bit from fingering yourself in the bathroom to the video. You couldn’t wait to bounce on Hyunjin’s cock all night after you get off work.

HAN. This was now the fifth dress you tried on and you still haven’t figured out a style you liked yet. You were getting frustrated but you weren’t going to let your pickiness get you down from shopping. You were at the mall with your boyfriend Han and as much as he hated shopping he liked to see you try on the pretty dresses for him so it was a win-win. You go to a different store now and you check out those dresses, making a beeline for the pink ones since that was your favorite color. You check out all the various designs and ask Han which ones he liked best, he didn’t really give much input and just picked the shortest one for you.

You gave him a playful side eye and put the dresses you didn’t like back, heading over to the dressing room so you can try everything on. As you were trying on the dresses, Han was sitting on a bench outside the door, texting all his homies. He soon started to notice how long it’s taking you in there and although you were busy trying on dresses he was getting tired of sitting here and waiting for what seemed like an eternity. He sighs as he figures out what to do, but he ends up deciding to knock on your dressing room door. You don’t reply but he can hear stuff rustling from the inside so he knocks again and tells you it’s just him.

“Uh… I think I need help,” you tell him reluctantly, he’s not sure what you need help with but he comes in anyway. He sees you standing in the dressing room with your hands in the air and the dress halfway up your body, he starts to laugh at how you were stuck in it.

“This isn’t a laughing matter, please help get this damn thing off of me!” You whine, and he begins to unzip the dress from the back, releasing you from its tight grip. You feel like you can finally breathe once again and slip the dress off of you, now completely naked in front of Han. You were only wearing your skimpy g-string and you had your nipples pierced which Han loved about you. He looks you up and down, licking his lips as if he was about to destroy you. The only thought in his head right now was to kiss you, so he grabs your face and crashes his lips into yours, moving some of your hair out the way. You kiss him back but harder and even more passionately, letting him fondle your boobs and play with your piercing. As he toys with your nipples he looks at you with pure lust, his eyes were all hazy and he looked nothing but in love with you. He started kissing your chin and licked the side of your neck, making you get all wet and worked up for him.

“We shouldn’t be doing this right here baby,” you tell Han as he continues roaming all over your body.

“Doesn’t that make you wanna do it even more though?” He says mischievously, sucking on your neck and giving you small hickies. You knew the chances of getting caught were very high but at this moment, you didn’t really seem to care. All you wanted right now was Han and that’s all that was on your mind. His hands slid down between your legs, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers and coating them with your essence. Your wetness was leaking down to your thighs and it took everything in you not to scream from Han’s touch. He inserts two fingers in your tight little hole and goes in and out slowly, you press your lips together trying not to make a sound, so he covers your mouth.

“Shhh… quiet babe,” He whispers into your ear.

FELIX. It’s not secret to Felix that you were a workaholic, you often immersed yourself in your work a little too much. He knows you are an independent woman that enjoys the freedom of working but at the same time he really wishes you’d give that same energy towards him sometimes. You traveled a lot for work and although you two live together, it still puts a strain on your relationship being apart for long periods of times. Felix loves to be around his lover and the fact you are always so busy with work makes him want to shower you with even more love and affection when he sees you. You were gone on another usual business trip but this time it was for a week, that was the longest you’ve gone for work and it was driving him insane. Everyday he thought of you and he would text you little things that he saw randomly throughout the day that reminded him of you. You always appreciated how much Felix adored you and your work ethic, he loved you for you.

The day you came back home from work Felix came to you with open arms, he was more than excited to see you again and all he wanted for the past week was the attention of his beautiful lover.

“I’ve missed you so so much baby,” Felix says whilst giving you the biggest hug, his body was so warm and you melted right into him. You gave him a kiss and he moves you both over to the couch, pulling away from kissing you for a second with a weird grin plastered on his face.

“What’s with that look?” You ask, wondering what he’s thinking in that head of his.

“I got you a little something, I’ll be right back,” he quickly runs to your shared room and comes back with a black box in his hand.

“What’s this?” You ask curiously, holding the box up to examine what it could be.

“Just open it, you’ll be surprised.”

You do as you’re told and open the box, you see a purple velvet bag and you open to see what’s inside. It was a vibrator, it had multiple settings and looked very high quality and expensive. You instantly blushed as you held the item in your hand, looking up at Felix so he can explain what’s going on.

“I wanted to get something to relieve your stress..” he continues “because you’re always so busy and stuff, y’know.”

You smile at the naughty gift your boyfriend gave you, giving him another kiss and thanking him.

“Want to use it on me now?” You ask, knowing that he’ll say yes to you in a heartbeat. Felix’s eyes light up like a kid in a candy store and he agrees without hesitation. He sits next to you on the couch with the toy in his hand and you’re now making out. As one thing leads to another, you end up naked lying on your back with your legs spread wide out for him. He has the toy on one of the highest settings and you’ve squirted about three times for him already.

“Come on baby, you can give me another. Just one more,” Felix says demandingly, having too much fun with this toy.

You spring your head back as you feel the toy in your soaking wet entrance, you don’t know how much more of this you can take. Your legs were violently shaking and the couch was soaked with your juices, you felt like you didn’t have anything left in you. Felix keeps fucking the toy in and out of you making you scream out for him, he palms himself through his pants as he does it.

“I never want you to be away from me again y/n,” Felix’s deep voice rasps as he pumps the toy into you deeper, “I mean it this time.”

SEUNGMIN. You were laughing hysterically as you were scrolling through TikTok, you’ve been glued to your phone for hours at this point. You showed Seungmin, who was sitting next to you on his bed yet another TikTok that he probably wouldn’t think is funny. You put the screen up to his face to show him the video and he looks but doesn’t really seem that interested. You tell him how funny you think the video is and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“You know, I’d rather have you shoved in my face rather than a phone.” Seungmin says to you.

‘Ok boomer’ you think to yourself, not wanting to actually say it incase he gets offended. You decide to just ignore his comment and go back to watching hilarious TikToks. Seungmin starts to get bored and he when he gets bored he becomes bratty. You hear him whine a little bit, looking up from your phone to see him pouting and all you want to do is give him a kiss.

“C’mere,” You command for him to come closer, he quickly does so looking like a lost puppy. He plants a chaste kiss to your lips, then begins to leave a trail of kisses down your neck. He slips a hand under your tank top and lightly squeezes your boob. You sigh as you feel him innocently brush past your nipples, then he trails some more kisses down your stomach. Once he makes his way down to your lower body, he quickly takes off your pants with ease. Teasing your clothed pussy a little bit, watching as a wet spot starts to appear from the outside, he circles your clit and starts to sniff you.

“You smell good baby,” Seungmin compliments, finally taking off your panties and tossing them somewhere on the bed. He kisses the inside of your thighs and feels the warmth of your skin on his lips. He loves every inch of you and he wants to take his time with you. Flicking his tongue on your clit and you hiss at the feeling, you want him to fuck you with his tongue. He licks a nice long stripe across your wet folds, staring up at you while doing so, your phone still in your hand the whole time. Seungmin brought his head up more to face you, “keep looking at your phone while I eat you out babe, pretend like I’m not even here.”

You comply with his instructions, continuing to watch TikToks like normal and Seungmin goes back to devouring your pussy like the good boy he is.

JEONGIN. It was a very nerve wrecking day for you, you were meeting Jeongin’s parents for the first time today. You put on your most expensive Dior perfume and prettiest heels to meet his mom since Jeongin told you she was very into fashion and can tell when girl’s wear cheap perfume. You wanted to impress this woman as much as possible since this was definitely going to be the man you wanted to marry someday. Jeongin reassures you the whole day that she was going to love you regardless,

“Even if you wore perfume from the Dollar Tree she’d still like you!” He tries to give reassurance. You don’t believe that’s true but when you get to his mom’s house you meet her and the rest of his family. His dad was super nice and everyone was very welcoming towards you. You were actually shocked by how chill and laid back everyone was, you felt bad for assuming that they would be mean to you. Jeongin’s mom was the last person you met, when you met her she came off as a little timid but then she started to warming up to you once you started having a lot of things in common.

She was really sweet and super funny, you now know why Jeongin is such a charming guy. You see Jeongin come up to you so he can pull you away from his mom for a bit but his mom brushes him off to tell him she wasn’t finished talking. He walks away with a defeated look on his face and you continue talking with his mom. When the food is ready everyone gathers at the table to eat and you sit beside Jeongin, his mom was across from you both. You were busy for most of the day talking with his family and getting to know everyone. He wanted to be with you but he couldn’t even get the chance, feeling left out in the conversation. You feel your phone vibrate from the table and you pick it up to see who it is, seeing that it’s from Jeongin but you’re confused because he’s sitting right next to you. You turn towards him to ask him why he just texted you but he puts his finger to his mouth to tell you it’s a secret. You place your phone under the table to look at the message,

‘Come meet me in the bathroom upstairs by the laundry room ;)’

You instantly blush from reading that text and try to hide your flustered expression. You look at him and nod your head to signal that you understand. Jeongin shoots his head up and tells his parents who were across the table from him that he needs to be excused to go to the bathroom. You shoot yourself in the foot thinking about what excuse you can come up with so you both don’t look sketchy.

“Sorry please excuse me I have to take this important call for my job,” you quickly say to his parents as you head over to where you’re supposed to go.

You meet Jeongin in the bathroom where he told you to and you went straight to heavily making out. He grabs your ass and spanks it lightly, “How long you think we can be in here before they start to notice?” You ask, his lips now glued to your neck.

“I dunno, I honestly don’t really give a fuck.” He says bluntly, turning you around to face the sink and the mirror, pressing his bulge against your ass. He starts grinding his dick against you slowly, kissing your neck and running his fingers down your body. He lifts up your dress and drags his cock to rub against your clothed cunt, you lowly moan his name and he smiles. He’s about to fuck you so hard against this sink all the while his parents not having a clue where you two went.

[agnesafterhours]

trophy | lee know. smut.

As team captain, your boyfriend has his priorities straight. Minho doesn't take neither his training nor role lightly, and, sometimes, you like to tap into this inflexible side of his. (3.7k words)

CONTENT: smut, dom!minho but he's more persuasive than physically controlling, brat!reader, oral (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, slight degradation kink. minors and empty blogs do not interact.

© all rights reserved. i do not allow reposting and/or translations of my work.

You shouldn't get under Minho's skin when he's training, you know that. The hurried whispers of his teammates leaving the field after matches told you this much. But still, it feels a bit unfair of him to make you sit here, after a whole game, having to watch as he leads his team through a “just, like, thirty minutes?” practice. Although annoyed, you understand why he's so hung up on practicing as much as possible—winning this game meant going to the finals, after all. You knew how much this meant to Minho, so you tried your best to be patient whilst sitting on the bleachers.  

Even though you're in a bit of a hurry to get him home, watching Minho play earlier makes it hard to deny that the field is his element, leading the team is his calling. You were completely stunned as you watched your boyfriend play—this being the first game of his you saw which you were actually rooting for his team. It was a bit of a rascal when the team captain introduced the cheerleader of their rivalling team as his girlfriend, but his mates eventually got over it. 

Your relationship with Minho was fun. You were together for a couple months and the freshness and excitement of it all never failed to make your skin tingle each time he looked at you in a certain way. Like the look he's giving you right now—chin up, eyes down, head slightly tilted.  

“I told you to wait.” His uniform's shoulder pads make him look even more intimidating, the bright spotlights behind him turning the white material almost blinding—his shadow casting on you. 

“I have been waiting! It's been like an hour, Min! And you said you'd take thirty minutes…” You hope a slight pout would help your case and soften his heart, but he simply turns his focus to the field for a moment, before looking back at you. Minho takes a few steps closer.  

“What’re you so eager to go home for?” He asks, voice a bit quieter. There's no need to speak this lowly when he's so close, especially when his teammates are so far away and everyone else has gone home by now—but you'll take advantage of whatever you can get from him. Even if it's just the feeling of his eyes on you. 

You look away, arms crossing under your chest as he smirks.  

“What? Cat got your tongue so early on, baby? Speak up.” 

“I'll tell you when we get in the car.” 

His eyebrows furrow. “I don't wanna wait ‘til we get in the car.” 

“Well, then maybe you should hurry.” You turn around, eyes lingering on him for a moment before you make your way to the parking lot. 

Your nerves make you jump a little when you hear Minho shout to his team they're wrapping up the practice—the parking lot getting darker and darker with the distance you put between yourself and the field's spotlights, a cool breeze awakening shivers up your arms as the night hugged you tighter and tighter. You (and the butterflies on your stomach) wouldn't settle until you felt Minho's presence. But you don't wait for him to catch up to you. You don't look back. 

The few minutes you sit in the car feel like hours, your phone's screen lighting up with a notification from your boyfriend finally seizing the constant checkups of your hair and gloss. 

min🖤: locker room  

You: why  im waiting for u  in the car 

min🖤: locker room:)  im waiting  

You: ive been waiting for longer  what if i just dont go 

You slam the car door shut, making a bee line to his location. 

min🖤: if you dont come you wont get what you want when we get home 

You: whatever 

The building's back door shuts loudly behind you.  

min🖤:  if you dont come ur gonna have made me end practice for nothing  

You: idc  ur already mad anyway  

You reach the locker room and as soon as your hand turns the door handle, you feel two hands on your hips pressing your back to the cold metal. 

Minho's tongue is in your mouth before you can even notice he kissed you, the cold air seeping through the open windows contrasting his warm palms on your skin. You're covered in shivers as he controls the kiss—one palm running up your chest to your neck until he reaches the back of your head, tilting it as he pleases.  

“Not mad enough to use numbing cream on you.” The bottle sits menacingly on the wooden bench. He spreads your legs with his thigh, pressing against your core. “So don't push me.” 

You're completely helpless, hands grabbing fistfuls of his uniform as he lightly pulls the hair on your nape every now and again—his mouth latching desperately onto yours. The room is dark, the campus so empty it almost feels like you're in a different dimension, completely by yourselves. Air fills your lungs for the first time in a while—you didn't realize you were that breathless until gasps fill the room as he kisses your neck. 

“I didn't even do anything.” He leaves a harsh bite at your words, sucking on the bruise a moment after. “Ah- I just wanted to congratulate you for winning-” 

“If you wanted to congratulate me”, his voice drips with sarcasm, “you would've sat there and wait for me to finish practice.” Minho hastily pulls the front of your tank top above your chest, not bothering to fully strip you out of it before his hand reaches under your bra, massaging your breast. “You would've been patient until I had the time to bring my pretty little trophy home, hm?” 

Air hitches in your throat when he rips your bra open, the cloth falling to the floor. You struggle through heavy breathing to talk back as he licks his thumb and brings it to your nipple. “I'm not just some trophy.” 

“You're not? What are you, then?” His lips leave your neck so he can look you in the eye, finally allowing to rest for a bit. You don't like the distance. 

You lean your head forward, chasing his smirking lips as he pushes you back against the lockers—the shuffling metal sounds strident in the dead quiet. Minho tilts his head back a bit, rejecting your kiss. “You didn't answer me.” 

“Because I wanna fucking kiss you!” You whine through gritted teeth, leaning towards him one more time. 

The grip he has on your hair stops you once again, but this time, he gets so close his lips touch yours when he whispers. “Tell me what you are, baby. ‘Cause sometimes you act like you're just a desperate little hole for me to fill." 

Minho's dilated pupils stare right into your soul. Your eyes shake but you don't look away. “I'm your fucking girlfriend. It's not my fault you're not good enough of a fuck that I'm never satisfied.” 

You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.  

You see, Minho wasn't the type to growl his demands and manhandle you into whatever position he wants—he always tries reasoning with you. He lets you know what it is he would like to do, and if you don't comply, he'd show you why that was the best option for you in the first place. Minho gets off on proving he knows better, showing how he knows what's best for you. 

He takes a small step back, a click of his tongue letting you know his disappointment. “So I don't fuck you right? Okay.”  

“I just- I didn't mean-” 

“No, you're right, you're right. That's why I never make you come, right?” His sarcastic voice coming out a little bit breathless as he shoves your shorts and underwear down your legs, eyes fix on yours. You kick the clothes to the side with trembling legs, bambi eyes looking up at him. 

You didn't exactly know what the outcome of your stubbornness would be, but you did not expect Minho's knees to buckle—his gaze dead set on yours as he reached the ground.  

Suddenly, your boyfriend grabs your hand and latches it to the hair on the back of his head.  

“Why don't you fucking teach me then?” He speaks through gritted teeth, throwing your right leg over his shoulder pad—the unusual angle giving him all the access he needed and leaving you much more exposed.  

Unhappy with how limp your hand stayed in his hair, Minho grabs it once more, pushing himself against your core. 

“Come on, baby.” He mumbles, leaving wet kisses over your outer labia. When he looks up, resting his chin on the skin under your bellybutton, the dim light coming from the window makes his profile glow blue—pearly white grin hypnotizing you. Minho looked like an incubus—eager to suck the life out of you. “Where's your attitude, hmm? Show me what you like.” 

You can see your bare chest heaving with each breath as you look down at him. “Fin... Fingers?” 

He tilts his head to the side, big eyes full of mischief. “Fingers? You're asking?” 

“I… I don't-” 

“You don't know? Of course you do. You're just not thinking straight. Maybe it's stress, right? ‘Cause I'm not good enough?” Without a warning, the tip of his tongue lightly zigzags up and down your pussy. Up, and down again—avoiding your clit each time.  

“You see,” he says, letting his saliva mix with your arousal, “if I use my fingers now, you'll come too fast.” Minho leaves a long peck on your core. “I know that's what you want, but what about dragging it out a little bit? I think you'd like it better.” He flattens his tongue and your body squirms as he licks up. “But I mean, I wouldn't know.” 

Minho's being painfully annoying, but you deserve it. He takes his time dragging his tongue through your core, lapping your arousal and smearing it on your cunt—making your legs shake every now and again. His right hand keeps your squirming hips still as the left one slowly caresses it's way up your body, until he reaches your chest.  

He's looking up at you the entire time, watching every single twitch and reaction to the flow of his tongue on you. When he finally latches onto your clit, you swear you lose your mind a little. Your hips stutter and he follows you promptly, big brown eyes burning through you. The sight of Minho on his knees being illuminated by the moonlight is so ethereal it's almost haunting, and at that moment, you know you'll never really forget this view—you'll never forget how he's making you feel. He really is like a incubus in a way, imprinting his mark on the back of your mind forever. 

Impulsiveness takes over and you force your hips forward, the hand in the back of your boyfriend's head thrusting him against your cunt. Minho's eyes turn impossibly darker, his smirk much more noticeable than before. When he closes his eyes and his eyebrows furrow, you already know you're gone—instincts making you hold onto his locks harsher than ever. 

The soft sucking turns progressively rougher, your eyes squeeze shut as his tongue draws figure-eights on your clit very softly in contrast to how quickly his lips are working the same nerve. 

When your eyes start to water from how overwhelmed you feel, the telltale begins. As soon as your body starts shaking and your hips squirm away from his hold, you open your eyes to look at him just in time to watch as he completely removes himself off of you.  

Your heart drops, hot tears running down your shamed cheeks as you wobble a bit, trying to find balance without his hands on your hips. 

“Fuck, can you even feel anything, baby?” You feel the ghost of gentle fingertips on your labia, following up and down the slit. 

You can tell through your watery eyesight and the poor-lit room that he's now paying attention to the way his fingers play with your cunt, smirk wiped clean off his voice as he watches your arousal coat his fingers. “If I try something like this-” He gently pushes his ring and middle fingers inside you, slowly curling the tip of his fingers in come-hither motion, low voice filling up the emptiness, “does it feel good?” 

Does it feel good? You're long, long gone. Minho's voice sounds like it's coming from inside your head, the stimulation feels like it reflects in white orbits in your vision. You can no longer force yourself to open your eyes—it's for the better, anyway. You'd probably pass out if you caught a glimpse of his pretty brown eyes by now.  

Does it feel good? You don't remember how you got yourself in this situation—you don't even have the brain power to form a phrase involving anything but religious chants of his name. You've become nothing but a warm body for Minho to touch and use as he pleases, you'd be satisfied with the smallest of touch he'd be kind enough to reach for.  

His pouty lips find your clit again and suddenly, fireworks start setting off in your insides way too fast. Your stomach muscles contract in a way that's entirely new for you and you feel like you'll fall to the floor if he doesn't support all your weight. Your start to feel your throat straining, the constant whining suddenly getting higher. Your eyes are shut so tightly you can see blobs of colour behind your pitch-black eyelids. You think you're out of it for a little bit, but you can still hear his voice. 

“Yeah, I don't think I'm doing it right.” The raspiness of his tone almost puts you to sleep—his fingers are still inside you, now pumping back and forth, very slowly. You can hear the embarrassingly loud gushing sound of his fingers moving inside you, and you open your eyes to find your boyfriend's face and chest covered in your arousal. 

“I, I-” You don't know exactly what you have to say, but his loving eyes and the kiss he pressed to your thigh were not helping you find it out. 

“You ruined my fucking jersey.” His lopsided smile makes your breath hitch. 

“Need you.” 

He tilts his head again. “Do you? Really?” 

Your head is heavy as you nod, and you try your best to not lose focus. You know what he needs to hear to finally drop the act, and you know you should give in before your body gives out completely, but there's a little twisted voice inside your head asking how far you can take this—your body seems to be addicted to the thrill, moans immediately spilling out your lips when his fingers pick up pace. 

“You're not satisfied?” He asks, voice sugary sweet. His pouty lips pepper quick pecks on your inner thigh, expectant eyes looking up at you. “I’m not sure I can help you, though. I mean, if it doesn’t feel good it’ll just get painful at some point.” 

You stutter your words through a strained voice. “I’ll let you know if it does.” It takes your entire being to attempt to sound demanding. “We can keep going for now.” 

An amused countenance takes over his sharp features. “Oh, we can? Alright, ma’am. Thank you so much for letting me know.” He stands up, and the sudden shift in atmosphere rising goosebumps on your skin as he now looks down on you. 

Minho stands tall before you, the lighting no longer illuminating his doll-like eyes—shadows now cover most of his face, long hair hiding his gaze. As if he can hear your heartbeat picking up pace, he gets close to whisper against your lips, eyes hazy as he looks down at you. “I think we gotta stretch you out a bit more, hmm? If it didn't feel good, you're probably still tight.” 

Good God, you hate this man. You know what he’s trying to get out of you—you’re just not sure if you want to give him the satisfaction yet.  

So, you look up at him with the sweetest eyes you can possibly muster. “Don’t worry, bunny. You’re not that big.” 

He stares at you for a few seconds, the smile on his lips doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Bench. On your back.” 

Although it seems you’ve worn his patience thin, you stare back. The cogs in your brain working their full capacity trying to figure out a way to make his life a bit harder. A disappointed sigh leaves his lips as he walks towards his locker, looking for his stuff to leave. 

As always, his action is effective. Minho really doesn’t need much to convince you to give in, after all, you know what you’ll get when you do. 

Silence fills the room as you discard your shirt all the way and lay on the bench, legs bent at the knees, heels resting on the cool surface. Anxiety bubbles under your sensitive skin when you hear Minho taking off his clothes. You rest you weight on your elbows to watch—his jersey was gone when you got to look at him, shoulder pads following suit. 

“What made you change your mind?” He opted to leave his white tank top on as he unbuckles his belt, one knee—supported by the bench—between your legs. The moonlight now shining entirely on him.  

“Don't like the emptiness…” Your voice trails off, and you don't mind staring shamelessly as he puts on a little show for you—one hand on your knee and running down your thigh, the other stroking his cock.  

He scoffs, “You say shit like this but doesn't like it when I say you act like a hole.” He taps his tip on your clit, earning a loud whine from you. “Make up your mind, bunny.” 

Minho stays kneeled before you, the cloth of his tank top so thin you could make out the lines of his chest and abs—the muscles on his pale arms shining iridescent in the lighting. 

Your boyfriend moved his hips, slowly grinding over your slit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head without much resistance, mouth watering with each nudge of his tip to your clit. “Whatever you said about me not being too big…” He leans down to leave a quick peck on your lips. “Keep that in mind.” 

With absolutely no warning and much faster than your brain would've been able to process, Minho buries himself as deep as he possibly can inside of you. He lifts your hips off the bench with ease, sitting on his heels—his hold on you so tight you bounced back against him with each thrust of his.  

The stamina of the man above you is unfaltering. You can't do much besides watch him: his biceps flex to support the weight of your hips every time he slams you back on his cock, veins prominent on his arms. Minho's face and neck are covered in the prettiest shade of pink—his wide chest, blushed with the same colour, is struggling with each breath he takes. The moonlight highlights the droplets of sweat sliding down his neck, and he can't seem to decide whether he wants to throw his head back or look down at where your hips align. 

Keeping himself together is the hardest when Minho looks down at you. He got his pretty girl all splayed out for him; her eyebrows furrowed in utter pleasure as the whiniest sounds constantly pour out of her pouty lips. The way your body reacts to him is hypnotic—it's so fun for him, how every little thing he does makes your eyes roll back. The power trip he gets when he watches your skin shiver wherever his hands touch is better than anything he's ever experienced. All because it's you. Because he gets you to feel like this. The fact you're so drunk on Minho gets him even more addicted to the feeling of your body shaking under him. So when your hips suddenly spring back to life rolling desperately against his and Minho's name seems to be the only coherent thought your brain can formulate, his desire increases tenfold. 

You have no control over how loud your moans or the smack of Minho's hips against yours are. He lowers you back on the bench and is fully above you in the blink of an eye—holding your face as he kisses you so deeply you struggle to keep up. His thrust become less timed but continue as deep as they were. Minho throws his head back, moaning loudly, but quickly brings his gaze back to your lips. His eyebrows are furrowed, lips touching yours as he whispers. 

“Come on, baby. You know how much I love to feel you coming around me. Be good.” 

Be good, be good. Of course you want to be good. When his lips touch yours again, euphoria explodes inside of you. Your eyes being squeezed shut seem to enhance your other senses a bit—you feel every inch of Minho's cock grinding inside you, his hands burning hot where they touch, his loud moans and the wetness spattering between your legs being the only things crystal clear in your cloudy mind.  

“Holy shit, fuck. I'm close, I'm so close.” He pants, face buried in your neck.  

Your weak hands gently soothe his back, you mindlessly mumble your words, “Wanna feel you coming inside me, love. Want it so bad.” 

His strong arms wrap around your waist when he comes, cock buried deep inside of you. Minho shudders with each movement of your hands against his skin, as you now gently scratch his back under his tank top. It feels like a long time has passed until he breaks the silence. 

“We're taking the numbing cream home, by the way.” He gets his face off your neck and rests his weight on his elbows. His right hand cups your jaw, thumb playing with your drooled lips. “You're not done paying for that attitude.”

[liviawildrose]

𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

read this to transform your life

hey guys! today, we’re diving into something that can literally transform the next 20 years of your life. why? because pluto has officially entered aquarius, and let me tell you, this is huge. if you’ve got aquarius anywhere in your birth chart like i do, you’re probably already feeling that intense energy—the urge to level up, get things done, and completely reinvent yourself. i mean, look at me: this is my second vlog today and i’ve been non-stop posting since yesterday. it’s like this cosmic shift has supercharged me, and i know it can do the same for you.

but don’t worry, even if you’re not an aquarius, this energy is hitting everyone in some way. so whether you’re ready for it or not, pluto in aquarius is here, and it’s bringing transformation on a massive scale. now, this blog is part of my series called the “game of life”, but since this pluto shift is so major, i’ve decided to make this a crossover between the two themes. we’re going to talk about how to actually use this energy to change your life, level up, and play the long game to completely transform the next 20 years and beyond. so, if you’re ready to tap into this cosmic power and take control of your future, follow along because this blog might just change your life.

just before we dive in, i want you guys to check out a blog i posted a couple of weeks ago—it’s all about the first steps to getting your shit together. it’s a great starting point for understanding how to lay the groundwork for your transformation journey. if you haven’t seen it yet, head over to blog “first steps” and give it a read. trust me, it’ll help you get a solid foundation before you dive into the next level of this process.

avatar

okay, now that you’ve got your basics down from the previous blog, let me introduce you to the game of life. this is where things get fun. first, we’re going to focus on creating your avatar. now, if you’ve read that earlier blog, you’ll remember i talked about building an alter ego. for example, mine is called livia wildrose. she’s my vision of absolute perfection the version of me i aspire to be. this is your chance to go wild. grab a journal and start designing your alter ego and how her life is. i don’t care how crazy, bold, or unrealistic it might seem this is your imagery of perfection. who is she? how does she look? how does she act? what does her life look like? write it all down. get creative draw her, make a mood board, whatever feels right. this is your blueprint. now, here’s the twist: in the game of life, you are the avatar. your current self, with all your flaws and strengths, is the player in this game. your mission? to become your alter ego. think of it like this: your avatar (you) might not have everything your alter ego has right now. maybe she’s more confident, more successful, smarter, richer, or better-looking. but that’s okay because she represents your end goal. every step you take toward embodying her, every choice that aligns you closer to her energy, earns you points in the game of life. the idea is to bridge the gap between who you are now (your avatar) and who you want to be (your alter ego). every time you make progress whether it’s a mindset shift, a small win, or a big milestone you’re leveling up. this is how you win the game.

for example, let’s say your alter ego is this ultra-rich, world-famous singer, idol, and total icon. she’s confident, magnetic, and lives her dream life effortlessly. that’s your end goal that’s your alter ego. now, your job is to build her. create her personality, her habits, her lifestyle, her goals, and most importantly, her mindset. think about it what kind of mindset does she have? does she radiate confidence? does she have unshakable discipline? does she take no for an answer, or does she turn every rejection into motivation? for me, my alter ego, livia wildrose, has a queen-like, goddess-like mindset. that means every single brick life throws at me, i’m gonna build a castle out of it. scratch that i’m gonna build a shrine. nothing breaks me; i only get stronger, wiser, and better. that’s how livia wildrose operates, and that’s what drives me every single day.

imagine you’re playing a game where you have to build a village from scratch. when you start, you don’t just dive in blindly—you go around and observe how other players have built their villages. you notice their strengths, but also their flaws. maybe someone’s village is too cluttered, or their defenses are weak, or their farms are in the wrong spots. you take mental notes: ‘okay, that’s not my vibe. i’m not gonna do that.’ this also brings me to the point that learn from other peoples mistake too. my friend right now is going through a very tough break up. and the guy is being a total asshole. and the more she talk about the relationship to me how it was, and we try to get the cues like “oh we could’ve realised back then when he said this particular thing” that he is not the one. (the fact he was a total sexist asshole) i realised that when i get into a relationship, and if i see my future boyfriend having these traits, i will leave. why? because I learnt from her mistakes of letting things slide, and not noticing the minor red flags that later became worse.

(back to the topic) then, you create an image of your ideal village in your head. you don’t copy anyone, but you take inspiration. you think, ‘this is my aesthetic, this is how i want my village to function.’ you make a mental note of all the details where the farms will go, where the population will live, how everything will flow. and then you start building, step by step, upgrading, improving, and making decisions based on the vision you created. now apply that same concept to your life. create an ideal version of yourself (alter ego) in your head. imagine your ideal life, your ideal personality, your dream self. think about who she is, how she thinks, how she acts, what her daily habits are. don’t just copy someone else’s life take inspiration. maybe you admire someone’s confidence but not their style, or their work ethic but not their priorities. fine. make mental notes and adjust it to fit your vibe. every time you make a decision or work to improve yourself (your current avatar), use that ideal version of yourself as a guide. ask yourself, ‘what would she do? how would she handle this? what choice aligns me closer to her?’ take inspiration from her and let her energy fuel every upgrade you make. step by step, you’ll start building a life that’s completely aligned with the vision you’ve dreamed of. for example in pubg. the end goal is to become a conqueror so what you do every single time when you play that game is make sure that you’re good with your teammates, you get the most kills, you win every single match, because that is what will bring you to your end goal.

the bars of life

1. health bar

health is the foundation, the core, the absolute main bar. without health, nothing else matters. it’s like playing a survival game if your health is low, you’re dead in the water, right? you can’t progress, you can’t fight, you can’t level up. every single step in your journey starts with taking care of your body and mind. health is everything. make sure you’re eating right, sleeping enough, working out, and keeping your mind in a positive, stable place. the healthier you are, the more you’ll be able to conquer in all aspects of life. keep this bar maxed out, or you won’t even have the energy to fight for your dreams.

2. physical bar

now, let’s talk about the physical bar. this is all about how your body looks and feels. how’s your physique? toned? fit? are you putting in the work to make sure your body is in shape, or are you letting it slide? it’s not just about the gym though—it’s about how you present yourself. do your clothes flatter your body type? are you dressing in a way that highlights your best features? are your nails done, your hair styled, your makeup light but on point? when you walk into a room, does your physical presence demand attention and admiration? this is about taking pride in your appearance and making sure your physicality aligns with the highest version of yourself. everything from your posture to the way you dress, this is how people will notice you. own it.

3. mental bar

the mental bar is all about your mindset, emotional health, and mental well-being. how do you show up in the world every day? what is your internal dialogue like? are you a powerhouse of positivity and productivity, or are you letting negative thoughts control you? this bar is about building a mindset that propels you forward, no matter what life throws at you. like i always say, every single brick life throws at me, i will build a castle out of it—or a shrine. i don’t care what happens, it’s all fuel for my fire. this is the mental toughness you need to develop to grow.

if you’re facing challenges—whether it’s dealing with stress, anxiety, or depression—take care of your mental health. if you need a therapist, get one. if journaling helps you unpack emotions and thoughts, make it a habit. every step you take to improve your mental health is a step toward leveling up your life. every time you choose a positive, productive mindset, you’re not just surviving—you’re thriving. strengthen this bar, and everything else in life becomes more manageable.

your mental bar is not just about surviving the chaos—it’s about learning to navigate it with grace, strength, and an unbreakable belief in your ability to create your dream life.

4. spiritual bar

the spiritual bar is your path to alignment with yourself and the universe. this is where you connect with your higher self, your energy, and your beliefs. spirituality isn’t just about religion—though it can be if that’s part of your journey. it’s about meditating, doing yoga (especially Kundalini, like i mentioned), and tuning into the deepest parts of yourself. when you start aligning your chakras and balancing your energies, you’re strengthening this bar. it’s about connecting to something greater than yourself—whether that’s through rituals, prayer, or mindfulness practices. this is the bar that ensures your spirit is nurtured, your energy is clean, and your soul is grounded. if you’re in tune with yourself and aligned with your truth, you can face anything the world throws at you.

5. financial bar

now, let’s talk about the financial bar. this is where you track your wealth, your earning capacity, and how financially empowered you are. how’s your financial situation? are you getting paid what you’re worth? are you bringing in new streams of income? every single time you land a promotion, secure a new deal, or create another source of income, this bar rises. even small wins matter—getting that side hustle going, saving a little extra this month, investing in yourself. all these things count. this bar is about actively working toward your financial freedom and success. if you’re serious about leveling up in life, this bar has to be taken seriously. wealth isn’t just about money—it’s about abundance in every area of your life. when you strengthen this bar, you give yourself the power to live the life you want

6. career bar

the career bar is all about progression, ambition, and success in your professional life. every time you take a step forward—whether it’s landing a promotion, launching a side hustle, or expanding your business—it’s a win for your career bar. it’s not just about the outcome, but about the process too. when you learn a new skill to level up in your field, or when you push yourself to take on more responsibility, this bar grows. every single action you take to further your career—no matter how small—contributes to building the empire you want. it’s about building something that lasts and ensuring that your career serves as the foundation for the life you envision.

7. social bar

the social bar is about how you connect and interact with others. it includes your relationships with family, friends, lovers, and colleagues, as well as your social media presence. every time you make a meaningful connection, whether it’s through a new friendship or strengthening bonds with existing relationships, your social bar grows. it also covers your social media footprint—every time you post something, earn followers, or engage with your audience, you’re building your social presence. the way you show up in the world, the vibe you put out, and how others perceive you are all part of this bar. what’s important is that you’re intentional about your social connections. it’s not just about quantity, but quality. how do you carry yourself? how do people feel around you? remember, you can always adjust the way you’re perceived by adjusting how you act. we’ll dive deeper into how you can shift your social presence to your advantage later on.

8. legacy bar

the legacy bar is about the impact you leave behind and how you’re remembered. while you might not need to focus on this too much at 17 (like me too), it’s still something that will guide your actions as you grow older. your legacy is like the final level of your life game—it’s the impression you leave on others, the tangible and intangible things you pass on to the next generation. think about it like this: your legacy could be how generous you were. maybe you donate to charities, help the less fortunate, or fund scholarships. maybe you leave behind a family with strong values, or set up a business that supports others and creates opportunities. or even, it’s the homes you buy and the wealth you build that your kids will inherit. that’s a form of legacy too—creating something that endures, that your children or loved ones can benefit from long after you’re gone.

you want to make sure you’re giving back—whether it’s in terms of charity, helping your community, or creating something that continues to benefit people beyond your time here. it’s about living with intention, creating something greater than yourself, and making sure that when people look back, they say, “wow, she did something good.” when I think of my legacy, I want to be known for making an impact on my country, helping its economy grow, and providing jobs. so, always think about the ripple effect your actions will have not just on yourself but on the world around you, long after you’re gone.

9. environmental bar

okay, so let’s talk about your environmental bar. this is pretty much everything around you: where you live, who you hang out with, and what you’re consuming—whether it’s people, media, or food. your environment shapes you more than you think. if you live in clutter, your brain gets cluttered. if you’re surrounded by negative energy or toxic people, guess what? that negativity starts rubbing off on you. toxicity? it’s contagious. trust me. this is why i always say: your environment is EVERYTHING. let’s say you’re stuck in a place where people are draining your energy, or your room looks like a hurricane hit it—what’s happening? your life starts feeling chaotic. but if you clean up your space, set boundaries with toxic people, and start surrounding yourself with supportive, positive vibes, you’ll see that your life follows suit. if you’re surrounded by success-driven people, guess what happens? you start moving differently too.

for example, i know my current living situation is toxic. but, once i move out, that’s going to be my environmental grace. i’ll finally have the space to thrive, away from negative energy. maybe for you, it’s as simple as clearing your workspace or unfollowing people on social media who bring you down. the key is that you’re actively creating a good environment for your growth. declutter, move people who don’t vibe with you, and make sure everything you interact with is aligned with your goals.

10. fun and recreation bar

listen, life isn’t just about hustling and grinding, okay? it’s also about having fun. and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. people always forget that joy and peace are important parts of growth. hobbies, fun experiences, and doing things that bring you relaxation and joy are just as vital as your career or health bar. sure, you might not make money from every hobby, but if it brings you peace or helps you unwind, then it’s worth it.

like me, i might not be making millions off of drawing, but damn, it’s relaxing. it’s something that i look back on and feel proud of. the point is, don’t skip out on fun. go out with friends, explore new things, travel, dance, create. don’t just work to live—live to enjoy it. make time for meaningful parties, exploring new places, or just learning something new for fun. trust me, it will make you feel whole. it’s the only life we’ve got, so might as well enjoy it. while also being productive (im sorry had to add this 😭)

11. intelligence bar

okay, this one should be obvious, but let me make it clear: your intelligence bar should always be leveling up. this is the bar for everything you do to expand your mind, whether it’s learning a new skill, reading a book, acing a test, or just getting smarter from life lessons. it’s not just about school or formal education; it’s about constantly seeking knowledge. every time you learn something new—whether it’s about physics, psychology, or how to make the best goddamn smoothie—your intelligence bar grows.

never stop learning. school isn’t the only place for growth. you’re an adult now—take control of your learning. buy books, watch educational videos, take courses that interest you, and dive into everything that can help you grow intellectually. intelligence doesn’t stop when you leave school, it grows with you, forever. always be leveling up your mind.

watch her video to get more info on this topic (she is MOTHER) literally.

cheat codes in the game of life

read this blog by me first

life is full of cheat codes if you know where to look. one of the easiest ways to hack your life and manifest your desires is by using subliminals, grabovoi codes, eft tapping and even customizing your ChatGPT. these tools are like magic spells, designed to align your subconscious mind with your goals. for example, grabovoi codes are just numbers, but when you write and repeat them, they can bring about extraordinary shifts in your life. subliminals work and eft tapping the same way reprogramming your mind while you go about your day. and with ChatGPT, you have a personal assistant that can help you navigate any life situation, offering advice and insight whenever you need it. these are your personal life hacks use them to transform your reality with ease.

okay, let’s dive even deeper into these cheat codes, because once you start using them, you’ll realize how easy it is to shape the world around you. let’s talk about altering your social image—this is like an advanced life hack that many people, especially celebrities, are already using, but they’re not telling you how. you know how celebrities act on social media, right? that perfectly curated, almost “too good to be true” persona? the thing is, that’s not really them. most of them aren’t as perfect as they look in front of the camera, and they sure as hell don’t act the same behind the scenes. think about the people who might’ve bullied you in the past. they might have treated you like crap, but when they’re in front of others? angels. they put on this sweet, charming persona to get what they want. it’s all about duality—using different faces to your advantage. so why not do the same?

you can reinvent the way people see you. perception is everything. for example, let’s say you want to be perceived like a star, like an icon. one of the biggest secrets to this is creating a unique persona—something that screams you, but is captivating enough to make others want to be around you. think about how a lot of idols have such a distinctive style or energy. that is the cheat code. they don’t just wear the coolest clothes, they embody a vibe, an energy that makes them stand out in a crowd. so, how do you do it? first, know what you want. if you want to be that calm, collected, alluring figure who commands attention without even trying, start by adopting a few things that you know fit that style. if you want that dark, sultry energy, you need to own it—the way you talk, walk, dress, and even the way you hold yourself should exude confidence.

take someone like Dakota Johnson she has this quiet-chaotic energy about her, right? she speaks slowly, her words dripping with this almost sultry vibe. she doesn’t try too hard. it’s not about being overly energetic or trying to impress; it’s about confidence, calmness, and an air of mystery. she can make something as simple as a joke feel funny and seductive because of the way she says it. that’s the magic. it’s not about being loud or brash to get attention, it’s about learning how to carry yourself in a way that leaves people wanting more.

here’s the trick you don’t need to be a different person; you just need to refine your vibe. create a version of yourself that’s like an upgraded avatar. and then, simply start to live like them. how would your alter ego talk? would they speak with more authority? would they be more laid back, or would they be mysterious? do they have a sultry, slow tone when they speak? model yourself after that, and it’ll become second nature. this is where the pluto in aquarius energy comes in if you’re an aquarius (or have aquarius placements), this is your moment. you have the power to reinvent yourself in ways that you never thought possible. take this time to shift your self-perception and how the world perceives you. you can break out of old habits, behaviors, and expectations that others might have of you. this is your chance to become the best version of you, the version that’s unstoppable.

how do you get started?

1. talk like her: figure out how your alter ego would speak. take note of the cadence, the tone, and the vibe they exude. do they talk slower? more deliberately? maybe they joke with a certain confidence that makes everyone laugh, but also feel intrigued. learn to replicate that tone.

2. dress the part: style matters. you can’t be a fashion icon if you’re always dressing like a potato sack. find a style that feels unique to you, but also gives off that vibe you want—whether it’s sleek, bold, or soft. make sure your clothing complements the persona you want to show the world.

3. be unpredictable: people love mystery. don’t always let them in on everything. make them wonder about you. embrace the chaotic quietness—be the person who seems calm, but you always have something up your sleeve. keep them intrigued.

4. embrace the duality: you can be whoever you want to be. show one side to certain people, and another side to others. be strategic about how you present yourself in different scenarios. this is how you gain control of your social image.

5. confidence is key: once you start showing up as this new version of yourself, your confidence will shoot through the roof. people pick up on energy. if you believe in the persona you’re creating, others will too. and that’s how you start changing how people perceive you.

the beauty of this is, you’re not just faking it. you’re becoming it. you’re tapping into a version of yourself that’s always been there, just waiting for the right moment to step into the spotlight. the more you practice this, the more natural it becomes. “fake it till you make”

so, here’s the game plan: figure out your alter ego, start speaking like them, acting like them, dressing like them, and above all, own it. no one can compete with a version of you who’s fully aligned with your highest self. this is the cheat code to creating your dream life and stepping into the role you were always meant to play. use mindmovie, vision board, manifestation books to keep yourself aligned with your desires and goals

yeah, seriously, take this game of life really seriously. it’s not just about coasting through, it’s about making moves that align with your goals and dreams. your environment plays a huge part in that—where you live, who you’re around, and what opportunities are available. if you’re in a place that doesn’t nurture your dreams or support your growth, it might be time to think about moving. i’m in the same boat—i know the dreams i have won’t be fully supported where i’m at, so i’m already planning my next moves. but remember, everything is strategic. you have to play to win, baby girl. don’t settle for anything less than the life you deserve. make the changes, take the risks, and keep leveling up.

life’s like a game, and there are plenty of players trying to win, but how do you outsmart the competition? it’s not just about luck—yeah, that plays a part, but it’s also about skill, strategy, and having the right people around you. you can’t level up on your own, and just like in any game, teamwork makes all the difference. think of it this way: the kings and rulers in history didn’t get where they were alone; they knew how important it was to have the right team by their side. whether it’s friends, mentors, or business partners, you need good people who can support, challenge, and push you forward. surround yourself with those who elevate you, not drain you. build a strong, skilled, and loyal team because with the right crew, you’ll always be ahead of the game. just like the environment you choose—quality food, media, and surroundings—your team matters too.

notations

life is like a mix of different games, okay? think of it like the Sims where you have the ultimate free will. you can literally do whatever you want, and it’s up to you how far you take it. want to be a singer? start posting your singing videos everywhere—Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, and even Twitter. manifest it, use subliminals, grabovoi codes, EFT tapping, and let ChatGPT help you figure out the algorithm and best ways to grow. life gives you all the tools, so use them to build your dream life.

but life isn’t just the Sims, it’s also like Chess. you have to be strategic about when and how you move. be nice but not naive, be a bitch sometimes too period. don’t throw out your best pieces too soon keep things lowkey and make others underestimate you. right now, I’m not the top student in my class, but I’m playing the long game. I’ll show people my pawns first—small, safe moves. later, when it’s the right time, I’ll pull out the knight or queen to checkmate the competition. keep people guessing. be mysterious. don’t tell anyone what you’re planning until it’s already in motion. keep your moves quiet, let them think you’re just playing small, and when the time comes—boom, you’ll show them exactly what you’re capable of.

this is where your team really comes into play. think of it like playing PUBG—if your team sucks, you suck. you can’t lead a squad full of lazy players and expect to win. it’s like trying to win a game while everyone else is just chilling. that’s why you have to be super selective with who you let into your inner circle. the people you’re building your success with need to be on the same level as you, otherwise, you’ll just drag each other down.

i’ve mentioned this before i literally asked a tarot reader to read the people around me, and she pointed out which friends weren’t good for me. guess what? those people turned out to be exactly as she said. so, don’t ignore your gut feelings. these are the people who will be there when you make it big, so make sure they’re the right ones. remember, in life, you don’t often get to choose your teammates, so be super careful who you let in. if you’re young, like 17 or 18, this is the time to build those lifelong friendships. trust me, pick wisely, because they’ll either help you level up or hold you back.

if i were to start a new life from today, this would have been the blog post that would have helped me reach that level. so, thank you so much for reading it through and through, and i hope you like it. also, i’m gonna pin this blog, and from now onwards, every single blog that you’ll see on my channel, on my account, will be somewhat similar to this. i’ll be using this blog as a centerpiece in future posts, building on it and referencing it. so stay tuned, because there’s a lot more to come, and this is just the beginning of the journey. and i’m gonna be doing all these again with you guys too. :)

also, happy 20 years of success as pluto returns to aquarius. love you guys.

[inkbybambi]

best friend!simon riley picking you up from a bad date —

words: 2.2k rating: nothing explicit apart from a brief mention of sex, just some light angst and comfort. my blog is 18+ so minors please dni. warning: hurt/comfort, fluff, pet names, insecurity/doubt/worry, mentions of sex, simon is the softie we all know he is notes: originally written for @ghosts-cyphera ♡ we all need a bestfriend!simon in our lives who's so sweet and gentle with us.

One thing you love about Simon — besides everything — is how reliable he is. Strong, steadfast, there when you need him. Even when he’s not physically there — his work taking him away for weeks or even months at a time — you find yourself reading over the messages he’s sent, the little sticky notes he’s left, whatever memento you’ve kept of him tucked away in the drawer in your bedside table.

Not that you’ll tell him that.

You hate asking him for favors — asking anyone for favors, really, but him especially. Whenever you ask someone for help, it's always accompanied by a long-suffering sigh or a roll of the eyes or some very clear indication that they'd rather do anything else.

Except for Simon.

Which is why you're hesitant to ask him more than you absolutely need to. You don't want to push your luck too far, less he eventually tires of you as well.

Losing people hurts, always assuming it's you that caused the problem. You've come to accept this, even if the dark feelings of being too much or a burden claw at the edges of your mind.

But losing Simon? You don't think you'd ever get over that.

It's just after 9pm, the sky dark and clouds threatening, with thunder rumbling steadily in the sky. Your hand shakes as you fumble your phone from your pocket, trying to hold tears at bay as you scroll through your contacts.

Your call log is all Simon.

Some appointments here and there, but Simon everywhere else.

Fuck.

You hiccup, the tears spilling from your eyes as the sky finally opens up, joining you in your mourning.

You don't have any other choice, really, so you click his number before you can talk yourself out of it and walk home instead, bringing it up to your ear as it rings.

He answers before the third ring.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," you sniffle into the phone, before he has a chance to say anything. You take in a sharp breath, blood turning to ice. "Am i bothering you?" you sound so meek and small and tired. “No, dove, you’re not,” comes his calm, reassuring voice. You’re only half-convinced.

"I'm sorry," you begin again. Your heart falls to your stomach, convincing yourself that this is his final straw. You're overtaken by a wave of nausea, despite not having eaten anything since lunch. "I didn't know who else to call, and I lost my tram pass, and I don't have an umbrella, and — "

“Dove,” he says, his accent soothing to your ears — he's so endlessly patient and kind. You ache.

"I can just walk home, I-I'm sorry," you whimper out, unable to stop the tears blurring your vision, feeling pathetic and weak and so, so alone. “Darling,” he says, a little stern. Not angry, never angry. Trying to focus you. “What’s wrong?”

“U-um, my date stood me up,” you sniff, swallowing hard. "I waited an hour," you mumble, looking to your shoes. "Messaged him too, y'know. He just. Didn't show."

You think you hear Simon curse over the line and your heart lurches, feeling like you're about to be sick. “Where are you?”

There's a rustle of fabric, the clink of keys, the heel of his boot walking across his floor. You manage to tell him the name of the restaurant, voice cracking. “Twenty minutes,” he says, and you’re about to protest but he beats you to it. “Sit there and be good and patient and I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

"Okay," you whisper in agreement, before the line clicks dead and you allow yourself to cry, huddling under the awning as some protection from the rain, now coming down in thick, sharp waves.

Thirteen minutes later, the headlights of his truck shine through the dark, pulling up to the curb. You make a mad dash for the passenger door, still getting drenched in the process.

You can't even look at him, hands shaking as you buckle the belt, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

He says your name gently. You take in a shuddering breath and let it out just as shaky, looking over towards him. He's wearing his balaclava, but his eyes — even in the dark, you can make out his beautiful eyes. Assessing you, worrying.

"I'm sorry," you croak out. You can't help it. It's burned into your tongue, driven into your mind to make him understand you didn't want to bother him. He doesn't have to forgive you, but as long as he knows, that's enough.

"Love," he says, and there's... something in his voice, as he reaches over for your hand, holding it gently in his own. His eyes never leave yours. "'m never gonna be mad about you askin' for help." Your eyes flit away, but he squeezes your hand and you reluctantly look back. "You know me better than that," he says, as if he can read the treacherous thoughts swirling in your head, drowning you and making it hard to breathe.

You can only nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. He hums, bringing the back of your hand up to graze his covered lips over the back, pulling out to drive you back.

"This is your flat," you say, fifteen minutes later as he shuts the car off. You were too busy looking at the window, watching the rain drops race down the glass, to notice that he wasn't driving the familiar route to your place.

"Yes," he replies, as if it's obvious he'd bring you here. "You really think I'd let you stay home alone?"

His eyes are so fucking bright. It startles you, and you hate how your heart twists and thumps at how intently he's looking.

"I..." you start, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. His eyes flicker to your lips, snapping away just as quick. "I was gonna eat ice cream and drink shitty, cheap wine," you say.

"As if I don't have either of those things here," he replies, opening the door and effectively ending the conversation. You scramble after him, eager to be inside in the warmth and burrow yourself into his couch.

"Go get changed," he says, voice clear as he removes the balaclava and bends to untie his shoes.

You hesitate for a second, until he looks up to you and there's that something lingering in his gaze — the same something that was in his voice.

"Go on now," he repeats, softer, and you ditch your shoes and your uncomfortably wet jacket by his.

His flat is as familiar as your own — you could walk through it blindfolded at night and you wouldn't knock into a single thing.

Well.

You might knock into a corner or two, but that's not a vision thing. It's a you're a bit clumsy thing. Simon finds it endlessly amusing, poking at the bruises that blossom on your skin while you bat his hand away.

His bedroom is familiar as well. Which is why you don't think twice before you're shimmying out of your clothes — undergarments as well — and rifling through his drawers, finding your favorite shirt of his and a pair of his boxers.

You take a moment to smell the collar, taking comfort in the scent that lingers. You’ve been dressed in his clothes many times before this but it feels different this time.

As you pad back out to the living room, Simon’s already on the couch. Your favorite blanket is draped across his lap, two bowls of ice cream and a bottle of cheap wine sitting open, glasses filled far more than you would’ve. You’ll indulge him, mostly because you have the sneaking suspicion that he’ll have you sleep here anyways.

His balaclava is off. The last dregs of tension drain from you as he looks over to you, face soft in the lowlight of the lamp, tv ready with a show you’ve watched a thousand times that he watches with you without complaint.

“Knew you’d choose that one,” he says with a bit of a smirk as you crawl on the couch, burrowing yourself into his side, his arm slinging across the back of the cushion.

“Am I that predictable?” you mumble, a small thank you as he hands you a bowl.

He doesn’t answer, but you feel the burn of his stare before he snorts, flicking the tv to start playing, the familiar theme relaxing you further.

The silence with him is comfortable, lingering in a hazy in-between of awake and sleep, empty bowls and mostly empty glasses sitting on the coffee table.

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asks, three episodes in, bottle empty.

You blink, not sure if you heard him properly as you pull back to look at him. You can’t read his eyes. Something hot twists in your gut.

“I-I don’t know, Simon,” you start, the weight of his stare heavy. “Maybe?”

He doesn’t say anything and you chew your lip for a moment, fingers curling to play with the blanket. “Depends how the date went, I suppose. Doesn’t matter much now,” you snort. His gaze hasn’t changed. “Why?”

His jaw clicks, taking a deep breath. “You deserve better ‘n that.”

A confused frown pulls at your mouth, unsure how to reply. “I know how to be safe,” you tell him, voice soft.

He seems to be weighing his words in his head, lowering the volume of the show. You feel sick.

Dark eyes rove over your face, taking in every minute detail. You bite at your nail, just for something to do.

“Don’t think there’s a bloke in the world that’s worthy of ya.”

Your frown deepens, breaking your eyes from his, twisting your fingers in your lap. Relationships aren’t easy. Being that vulnerable with someone isn’t easy.

You never want someone to pay for you, and even the smallest gestures like opening the car door or pulling out your chair feel like it’s too much. You don’t deserve that kind of attention. After a while, they’ll get tired. You’ll become a burden to them like everything else in your life.

It’s easier to be by yourself. The only person you have to worry about bothering is you.

“Love.” He tilts his head, eyes trying to catch yours. How hasn’t he gotten tired of you yet?

A hand under your chin forces your gaze up, and you try to shrink yourself against the back of the couch. Your voice catches in your throat, words stuck there.

“What’s goin’ on in tha’ pretty head f’yours?”

You swallow thickly, finding it damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his.

“‘s not like it matters,” you start. his brows furrow, but he stays silent. “No one would want me anyways.”

“‘n why would you say that?”

Frustration burns the back of your throat. Isn’t it obvious? You can barely call him in a dire situation without thinking the worst of yourself. How can he think of you as anything but a nuisance? How could he think anyone else would put up with it?

“You wouldn’t understand,” you say, defeated. You crumble back into the couch.

“Make me understand.”

Heat flashes at the nape of your neck. He takes your hands in his, cradling them in his warmth. Your name sounds so soft in his voice.

“How aren’t you tired of me?” comes your whispered question, nose tingling and eyes threatening to water. You look at him. Hesitant. Scared.

The silence is loud. His own frown deepens. It takes a few painful minutes, but you see the moment something clicks in place.

“You know I’d do anything for you, yeah?”

Your lip quivers, sniffling as you beg yourself not to cry.

“Because you do the same for me,” he continues. You doubt it, mind going blank of every time he’s come to you for something.

His touch moves to your elbow, tugging you forward gently until he can arrange you in his lap. He slips his hands beneath the hem of his shirt, thumbs rubbing on your hips just above the waistband of his boxers.

You slowly brace your hands on his shoulders. Firm and broad and safe.

“You apologize so much. You worry so much.” the tears slip down your cheeks, throat aching, but now you can’t look away from him. One hand moves to cup the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently at the skin behind your ear.

“You’re allowed to ask for help.”

You shake your head, a no caught in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“Oh, love.” He cradles you into the curve of his neck, arm wrapping around your waist and keeping a gentle hold at the base of your skull. “You have me wrapped around your finger ‘n you don’t even know it.”

He lets you cry into his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt. His cologne is soothing and you eventually slump against him. You’re so tired.

His lips graze your temple, his soft touch lulling you to sleep. You’ll talk about it tomorrow, but for now you want to stay wrapped up in his arms, held by someone who genuinely loves you.

[writingfromasgard]

Manspreading [Ghost]

My blog is a 18+, minors be blocked regardless of what they interact with.

[Masterlist] || Requests are Open || GIF by hollow-epitaph

cw: unprotected sex, dirty talk, unedited writing

At the best of times, Simon "Ghost" Riley is like an old cat; finicky and reclusive. In the moments he isn't, where he craves your touch and can't seem to stand an inch of air between you two, he crowds you. He has his hands resting on your waist, chin resting on your shoulder while he watches you type away on your keyboard.

"Y'work too much, love."

You pause your typing to kiss his cheek, nearly finished with what you were working on. You know he wants your full attention right now but these changes are due by tomorrow afternoon and if you finish now, you can spend the rest of the night and part of tomorrow giving him what he wants. His hands squeeze down on your hips, a kiss pressed to your clothed shoulder.

Simon could be patient. He's waited days before in the same sniper position to get off a shot. He would distract himself like he was now, pressing his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply. Kissing whatever his lips could reach, fingers squeezing as he pleased. You're concentration didn't suffer any as long as he behaved.. a relative term as far he was concerned.

His hand snuck up your shirt, and a quick hug was all he wanted. You let him until his hand crept up your ribs. You pushed his hand back down to your hip with a firm squeeze.

"C'mon. I was only givin' you a hug." He says, nuzzling the back of your neck.

"Your hand was going higher than necessary for a hug, Simon."

Your fingers tap away, focus narrowing on the screen. It doesn't take long for his hand to slide down the top of your thigh, slowly guiding your legs apart. He buries his face in your neck, pressing feather-like kisses so as to not disturb you. With both hands on your thighs, he squeezes them, groaning in your ear. You stiffen on his lap, fingers freezing over the keys. You can feel the thickening bulge under you and sigh, saving your changes to close out the edits.

Your palms push against the edge of your desk, sliding the shared chair back from it. His drags you back down when you attempt to stand from his lap, grinding up against you slightly.

"I'm not fucking you in my office chair again." You peel off his hands, standing again.

"That so?" He gruffs, the tone in his voice unsettles you.

He wraps his arms around your waist, dread spreading in your stomach. You try your best not to flail, worried you'll damage your computer, when he hauls you with him. He tosses you slightly and you're bent over his shoulder now as he trots to the bedroom. You scream when he throws you on the bed, bouncing on the plush mattress. Your eyes are wide as he rolls his neck, eyes narrowed on your jostled form.

It's not often he's rough with you. His fingers dig into the waistband of your bottoms, jerking them down your legs hastily. He pushes your legs apart, spreading you by your knees. He licks over the front of his teeth, tilting his head. You feel more like a small animal as his belt jingles.

Simon draws his cock out, spitting on his palm to pump along the hardening length. His other hand sinks into the bed next to your hip as he leans forward, tip swiping over your slick folds. He teases your entrance, pushing the tip inside, stretching you around the fat head. His hands shift once he's done teasing, gripping your hips; a warning of what's to come.

You arch up off the bed, choking on the air leaving your lungs, as his hips snap forward. "Simon!"

"I know, love. You're struggling to handle it like you always do." He laughs low and rough, drawing his hips backward.

Your legs cling to his waist, hands reaching for his shoulders, preparing for his next thrust. He plunges inside again, shifting to press his body weight on you while pistoning unforgivingly into your body. The bed creaks under his movements, your body jolting with each thrust he gave you. You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders, dragging them down his bicep.

His groan is deep, right up against your ear, "Body was made f'me. Be a good girl and fuckin' take it."

His arms dig between the mattress and your body, using it to drag you down to meet his hips. His face buried in your neck, the slick sounds of his cock plunging into you filling the room. The muscles in your stomach clench, his name starting to leave your throat hoarse from how loud you were being.

You can hear him encouraging you, complimenting how well you're able to handle him when he's like this. Sweat dampens the sheets underneath you, the air growing a little too hot, his guttural growls dragging you closer to the edge.

"Simon, please!" Your voice shaking as the intensity builds.

Simon's fingers dig into your skin, leaving an painful ache. "You gonna cum f'me? Gonna squeeze down on my cock so i can paint your insides?"

He grinds his cock into you, that fat head of his cock nudging the perfect spot inside you. Tension snaps in your body, a wave of bliss that's almost as painful as it is pleasurable hitting your cock-drunk brain.

His hips lose their rhythm until he stops thrusting all together, sinking deep into your warmth with a strangled groan of your name. You feel a bit more weight on top of your body, hot breath hitting your ear. It's several moments before he's able to unwrap himself from you, gently pushing your legs to unhook from his waist.

Simon rolls off, laying beside you with his breathing evening out slowly. He clears his throat, opening it to speak, "Bloody hell, we're going to get another noise complaint."

[amorchai]

𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄.

written for my old blog but never posted!

pairing(s): husband!andrew garfield x reader

words: 521

warnings/tags: established relationship, insecurity + anxiety.

andrew had noticed your agitated state the entire night, sitting beside him at the awards show and gazing towards any celebrity that passed. he kept his hand on your thigh, thumb swiping the material of your outfit as he allowed the night to pass and question you once you got home.

he waited in bed, having gotten ready first and playing the television from across the bed on a low volume, listening to your movement around the bathroom, door open and allowing him to catch glimpses of your moving frame as you work on your skincare.

andrew sighs to himself while his thoughts run at a million beats per minute, he didn’t like to see you so quiet without knowing what’s wrong. and his excitement when you shut the bathroom door behind you, walking towards the bed, quickly drops when you tuck yourself beneath the duvet and turn away to face the wall.

“goodnight,” is all you murmur to him as an indication for him to turn off his beside lamp.

however, once he does, he turns over to cautiously wrap his arms around you, pulling you towards his chest in a need for your proximity. andrew feels your hand fall atop his arm wrapped around your waist, coaxing him to keep it there but not saying anything.

“i don’t know what i did wrong, but whatever it is, i’m sorry, okay?”.

you turn in his arms, able to see his face in the early night moonlight cascading his features, as pretty as always. “you didn’t do anything wrong, baby.” andrew feels a sense of relief, knowing that you weren’t annoyed at him, but still wanting to know what’s made you so disconnected.

lifting his arm, his fingers gently graze your cheekbones while he whispers towards you, gentle in the pre-midnight air, “you can talk to me, you know?”. his head nudges forward to connect your foreheads, nose nudging yours to comfortably situate his face as close as possible, eyes closing.

“it’s just— those girls, andrew. all those celebrities—” you cut yourself off, unsure of how you sound and hoping he could drop it.

but it’s andrew, and he’s too caring for his own good sometimes.

“what about them, baby?” he murmurs, leaning further into your face, breath fanning your lips as his tone sounded deep and trusting. when you don’t reply he leans forward to press a kiss to your lips, long and sweet to try and calm you down.

“you know, you were the prettiest one in the whole room?”

andrew knew you too well, and from a few words he was able to figure out the cause of your absent-focus, murmuring sweet lines against your lips to try and convince you of your beauty, of how much you matter to him.

“i swear, the best award i won tonight was the one i already entered the building with, okay? nothing to worry about, you matter the most to me.” andrew holds your face, so assuring and kind as he presses more kisses, this time around the expanse of your face before landing once more against your lips.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[voxhypno]

25 DAYS OF HYPSMAS - Day 1

"Amnesia"

I'd like you to find a nice, comfortable position, dear listener. A place and pose where you can read my words scrolling across your screen with little effort.

I'm going to be guiding you down into trance with these words, so comfort and ease are very important. You don't want anything to come between you and my words, do you?

After all, if you've been following this blog for long, you know these words have a way of slipping through the cracks of your mind and replacing whatever silly little thoughts you had cluttering up your head previously.

So of course you'll follow along, doll. You'll listen, and go along with my words. Because I say so, and because I know that more likely than not, you love to obey.

Now that you're reading obediently along with me, all comfy, I'd like to talk to you about the idea of memory. Recollection.

Your memory is a powerful tool. Everything it sees, hears, and encounters is catalogued away for recall when you need it, whether you think your mind is sharp as a tack or full of holes.

Sometimes, though, things do slip through holes in your memory. It's completely natural to find that you can no longer recall the face of your first grade teacher, or remember what your mother was wearing on the day of your 18th birthday. Those memory holes are completely natural, and the focus of our chat today, dear listener.

Those memory holes can be manipulated by someone with a level of trust and access to your mind, you see. Hypnosis makes a lot of things possible, and one of my favorite things to do is to take those memories and put them away for a while. Leaving the reader or listener nothing but a happy empty shell, ready to be filled with whatever I feel like.

That's a lot to take in all at once, and I understand if your poor little mind is feeling a bit overwhelmed. It makes sense, then, for your eyelids to start feeling so, so heavy. For your arms and legs to begin feeling limp, soft, and powerless.

And the trance that you find yourself falling into isn't so different than one of those memory holes, is it? Fuzzy around the edges, barely aware, and every time you try to picture something, your mind just drifts back to my words flowing through you.

It only ever gets easier and more natural to focus on these words. You can try and put your mind towards something else, but these words are much more present in the moment, and you're drawn into them more and more deeply. Your thoughts are nothing but thought, after all. Ephemeral and whispy, while my words are solid, tangible, and so deeply inviting.

And as you listen, as you find yourself further wrapped up in my words and dragged down into trance, it's natural to find yourself having trouble remembering more than a few sentences back. You're much more focused, and it's much easier to focus, on what's being said right now. Even if you tried to read up, you'd just find yourself back here, more ensnared and vacant than before.

Names and faces of old friends, the interior of your childhood bedroom, what you are for breakfast this morning, all just melting into soft, blank mental fuzz. Certain tidbits might stick out in your memory, but it's so much easier to pay attention to the blurred lines along the edges, growing more and more hazy and empty, just like your mind itself.

It's so hazy, there inside your mind... Thoughts and memories drifting in and out of focus...

And to help focus you onto something, here, dear listener. Let me help.

There we go, see? Much better. So easy to let the memories drift away from you now. Those holes in your mind, in your memory, widening and spreading themselves open... Spinning like that pretty spiral... And more and more things begin to drip through.

Almost as if more and more memories are being sucked down into the spirals inside of your mind, out of reach.

Things like your name, your face, the name of your hometown, your favorite foods... All just dropping nice and neatly into one of those wide memory holes.

Not only that, but memories of stress, of pain, of aching, all disappearing into those spiraling holes as well. Entirely emptying your mind into these spirals. Remembering nothing, recalling nothing. The spiral and my words don't discriminate. They suck in everything, leaving you calm and placid and vacant.

Here's the spiral again, to help the process along.

Feeling these things gently and easily leaving your awareness as they do so. They're in the hole, dear listener. Lost to the pretty spiral. A silly hypnotoy like you couldn't possibly grasp them in there. As far as you know, you've always been like this.

So you just sit. You feel yourself smiling blankly for me now, without really knowing why. You just watch the pretty spiral, read the pretty words, and understand that as you are now, it's so deeply and completely impossible to remember anything. In the final stages of being emptied out.

Even as you read my words, they pass through that empty mind like water through a sieve. Changing your brain, changing your thoughts, and then disappearing. They were never there. You've always been like this.

A blank slate. Every breath, every twitch, every blink keeps your mind in this state. Unable to remember your name or what you've just read, and unable to remember why. You've always been like this.

But you can't help but feel this little itch at the back of your mind. You can't remember who or where you are, but you're dimly aware that you should. That you want to. Your memories have to be somewhere... You just have to find them.

And since you've dropped down like this for me, since you've been in trance for as long as you can remember, I'm going to let you in on two secrets.

The first, and most important, is that this empty state is temporary. From the time you finish reading this post, and my words and spirals leave your vision, your memory is of course going to return. I'm not a monster, after all.

Let's say... an hour?

That sounds good. From the time you finish reading this post, your memory will be completely out of reach for one whole hour.

At the end of that hour, those memory holes will shrink to their normal size, and everything that you've stuffed in there will come flying out, back into your mind. Leaving you just as you were, remembering just as much as you did, before reading this post.

You're not going to remember that this time limit exists, of course. You won't remember any of this. You'll just be your blank happy empty little self, and suddenly your personality and reality will come flying right back into your mind, like nothing ever happened.

And the second point is more of a question...

Where could you go to find your lost memories?

Well, that's simple.

I've hidden them in all the posts on my blog, silly toy. Not sure how on earth you could have forgotten that! Every single past post of mine is a clue to who and what you are.

So in this hour that you won't remember, explore. Try and figure something out about your old memories. Who are you? Where are you? Search through my posts. What must you like? What must you act like?

I look forward to hearing about your findings, and I'll see you in an hour.

Now, wake up~!

[jaeyunverse]

chapstick challenge

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

genres: fluff, suggestive

wc: 1163

warnings: making out

summary: the chapstick challenge is just an excuse for you to get heeseung to kiss you. thankfully, he’s more than happy to oblige.

note: i don’t have the motivation to write but i didn’t wanna let the blog die either so here’s another repost :)

masterlist

“Heeseung!” you popped cheerfully and poked his cheek with your pencil. “Can I ask you something?”

The boy looked at you suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Do I always have to want something from you?” you asked, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“You’re being weirdly nice and unnecessarily upbeat at 8:30 in the morning so—” he shrugged— “yes.”

“Okay, yeah, I do want something,” you deadpanned, dropping your charade immediately. Heeseung rolled his eyes and you shoved his shoulder playfully in response. “But you have to promise you won’t say no.”

“No.”

“Boo!” you complained. “You’re such a party pooper!”

Refraining the urge to roll his eyes again, Heeseung reminded you, “The last time you made me promise to not say no, we ended up in the goddamn police station.”

“That’s on you for running too slow.”

“You forgot to pick up the bag with the fucking spray paints, Y/N!” he exclaimed incredulously. “They’re expensive!”

“I didn’t mind ditching the bag if it meant our parents remained uninformed about what happened that night!”

Letting out a long sigh of exasperation, Heeseung said, “Just tell me. The free period will be over soon.”

“Okay,” you declared and dragged your chair closer to his desk. Gesturing for him to come closer, you whispered in his ear, “It’s a TikTok challenge.”

The disappointment on Heeseung’s face could not have been more evident. “I thought you had something interesting to tell me. This was so lame.”

“C’mon!” you urged. “I swear it’ll be fun!”

“You know I’m not into TikTok.”

“Are you opposed to the idea of kissing me too?”

“Oh.” His demeanour changed immediately and he leaned towards you with a curious expression on his face. “Tell me more.”

“You’re such a dork,” you teased.

“I’m down for anything that involves kissing you,” he admitted shamelessly and shrugged. “Maybe this will finally persuade you to be my girlfriend. What’s the challenge?”

You snorted. You and Heeseung were definitely more than friends, but you weren’t exactly dating either. He wanted the two of you to be together, but you weren’t inclined to get involved with him—he was moving to another country for college in a few months.

It was already hard for you to come to terms with the fact as a friend. You weren’t sure you’d be able to cope if you began dating him.

Heeseung tried to convince you that you could make a long-distance relationship work, but you knew better than that. It wasn’t realistic—the timezones weren’t compatible at all and you were both way too career oriented to be able to commit to someone who lived on the other side of the world.

So, you just flirted with each other without ever putting a label on whatever you were. A few platonic makeout sessions here and there, a few not-a-real-date dates to make memories, but never girlfriend and boyfriend.

“I apply a bunch of different chapstick flavours and you try to guess them.”

Heeseung grinned mischievously. “Oh, I love what you have in mind.”

“Meet me at our usual spot during lunch break?” you asked, your lips mirroring his contagious smile.

“Can’t wait.”

“Will we be recording the challenge?”

You raised an eyebrow and looked at Heeseung over your shoulder. Tightening your grip on his hand as you tugged him along faster, you said, “I wasn’t planning to. Do you want to?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ll just get self-conscious.”

You laughed. “Are you saying you’re camera shy?”

“I’m saying I would rather focus on the challenge!” he exclaimed, the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment.

“Relax.” You chucked and let go of his hand. “I’m just messing with you. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Fetching an eye mask from the pocket of your hoodie, you handed it to Heeseung and told him to put it on. He did, and you uncapped the first chapstick.

After putting it on, you grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. His arm immediately wrapped around your waist, his hand finding its way to your jaw and cupping it gently.

Then, his mouth was on yours. You were a little surprised by how easily he was handling you even though he couldn’t see anything. It made you realise just how well he knew you—how much you’d gotten used to being with each other.

Heeseung tilted his head to the side for better access and ran his tongue over your bottom lip, sucking on it to get a better taste of the flavour you had applied.

“Strawberry,” he guessed without bothering to break the kiss.

You hummed. “You’re good at this.”

He smiled against your mouth and kissed the corner of your lip before pulling away. Removing the eye mask, he asked, “At guessing flavours or at making out?”

“Guessing flavours,” you said with a smirk and slung your arms around his neck. “I’m gonna need to conduct more experiments to reach a conclusion on that regard.”

“Oh, yeah?” he teased, running his thumb up and down the curve of your waist. “Go ahead and apply a second flavour then.”

You did, and this time, Heeseung wasn’t sweet nor gentle. He pretty much had you pinned against the wall, your fingers weaving through his hair and tugging at the strands.

The kiss was deeper and messier, as if the boy couldn’t get enough of you. Could never get enough of you.

His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you knew he wasn’t holding back anymore. He nibbled on your bottom lip, sucking and licking till you lost sense of everything else but him.

Out of breath, you broke the kiss, but Heeseung, it seemed, was nowhere near done. He placed his lips on your neck, allowing you to get some much needed oxygen into your system.

“That’s not where the chapstick is,” you whispered. You wanted his mouth back on yours. Now.

“Chocolate,” he muttered, sucking hard on the underside of your jaw. You hissed in both pleasure and pain. “It’s chocolate.”

Panting, he detached his lips from your skin and leaned against the wall next to you. You glanced at him and noticed that his tie had come loose.

Not only that, but part of his shirt had also somehow untucked itself and his hair was sticking in all directions. What you loved the most about his dishevelled appearance, though, were his swollen lips.

“Bingo,” you confirmed, resisting the urge to pull him against you again. “It was chocolate.”

Heeseung smirked. “Do I get a reward for passing the challenge?”

You didn’t answer immediately, instead fixing your uniform and hair. He watched you intently with dark eyes.

On your way out of the alley between the two secluded buildings at the back of your school, you said, “Why don’t you meet me back here after class and find out?”

The mischievous glint in Heeseung’s eyes was all the answer you needed.

[rottenfyre]

Let me make something very clear.

I am not white, I am not straight. And I'm clearly not a man. I’m Middle Eastern. I’m saying this upfront so no one gets confused or assumes anything about me.

I created this blog for one purpose: to have a safe space for myself and for anyone else who wants to escape reality for a while. That’s it. This is my corner of the internet, and it’s built for fanfiction—nothing else. I love writing and sharing stories, I love connecting with people who also enjoy fandoms, and I love creating a space where everyone can just exist without having to carry the weight of the world all the time. If you’re here for that? You’re welcome. Stay as long as you want.

But lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of people saying, “You should speak up about this issue,” “You need to support this cause,” or “Why aren’t you posting about that?”

Let me stop you right there.

You don’t get to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. You don’t get to dictate what I share, write, or care about. My blog is my space. If you want to yell about something, advocate for something, or spread awareness, do it on your own platform. But you will not come here and try to force me into your expectations.

For anyone who thinks they have the right to demand I use my blog for their causes, here’s what you need to understand: I am not obligated to center politics here—or anywhere else. My political views and this blog are two entirely separate things, and they will stay separate. I know what I believe, I know where I stand, and I will not explain or defend that to anyone because, frankly, it’s none of your business. If I don’t bring politics into my blog, it’s not because I don’t care—it’s because I refuse to turn this space into a battleground. This is my peaceful escape, and it’s going to stay peaceful.

And for those ready to twist my words: no, that doesn’t mean I’m ignorant or apathetic. I see the world. I live in it too. But not everything I do has to carry the weight of someone else’s expectations. If I want to write fanfiction about fictional characters in fictional settings and not bring up real-world issues, that’s my choice. If I want my blog to focus on escapism and community rather than division, that’s my right.

Let me put it like this: If you think the earth is flat? Cool. If you think it’s round? Cool. If you have opinions about race, sexuality, gender, politics, religion, or whatever else? Cool. Guess what? I don’t care. That doesn’t mean I don’t value you as a person—it means I don’t need or want your opinions taking over my space. This blog is not the place for debates, arguments, or finger-pointing.

I don’t run this space to host debates, arguments about who’s “right” or “wrong.” If you came here looking for a fight or an agenda to push, you’re in the wrong place.

I don’t care what race you are. I don’t care what gender you are. I don’t care about your sexuality, your opinions, or your political views. If you’re here to enjoy stories and fandom and a little slice of peace in an otherwise chaotic world, then you are welcome. If you’re here to demand, accuse, argue, or dictate what I should be doing, then you can leave. My blog is not a democracy—it’s my space, and my rules apply.

I’m not here to change anyone’s mind, and I’m certainly not here to have mine changed. I am here to write, to create, and to connect with people over the one thing that brings us all here: fanfiction.

To sum this up: I am not responsible for your expectations. I will not allow anyone to make me feel guilty for how I choose to exist online. This blog is about fanfiction, escapism, and community, and that’s how it’s going to stay. If you don’t like it, the unfollow button is right there.

We all need a little peace somewhere. This is mine.