#everything works and its as good as I can make it

[webanglikethat]

Inho and Gihun have consumed my brain: a rant.

their dynamic is absolutely insane, like watching two halves of a broken mirror slowly shift toward each other, each reflecting something so raw, so !! unbearably !!! human !!!

they are opposites in the most obvious way: one, a cold-blooded killer who thrives on power, privilege, and pain (though they both come from a similar background); the other, a man haunted by his own humanity, stubbornly holding on to the last shred of his moral compass, believing in a better life, a greater future.

but it’s the tension between them that burns — the way they orbit each other, drawn together by something darker than either of them is willing to admit. and it drives me insane, insane I tell you.

Inho studies Gihun like a predator; he is disguised as an ally, draped in the mask of sympathy and empathy, but every moment spent with him … it’s like watching a snake move through tall grass, its every flicker of movement calculated, controlled and designed to ensnare, trap, conquer, destroy. he watches his every more, everything he does and he doesn’t do. it’s a real time dissection !! he watches Gihun's cracks, his weaknesses, his flickers of anger and despair. every subtle movement doesn’t escape him.

he needs to see that part of him, the part that’s been broken, the part that still hurts. and in a way, he’s intoxicated by it. it’s like he wants to drink from those wounds, to feel the sharp, stinging taste of anguish on his tongue, to experience that pulse of pain, just so he can savor it, dissect it, and make it his own.

he watches Gihun not because he’s merely intrigued, but because in his suffering, in his brokenness, there is beauty. a beauty that can only be savored when torn apart, shredded, dissected, bruised. and the more he watches, the more he feeds on that agony, the deeper he falls into the nightmare of this endless fucking twisted game.

Inho is too far gone. he’s lived through the games, seen how the system works, and he’s embraced it without shame. to him, the so called “blood money” he earned is a truth. he doesn’t hide from it. he doesn’t pretend it’s anything else. he has seen too many bodies pile up to think there’s any other way. Inho believes the only way forward is through destruction. he’s accepted the curse of the games. hell, he’s fucking embraced it ! the lives lost are nothing more than fuel for his ascent to power. people are pawns, and pawns don’t matter. it’s all part of the game.

Gihun, though… he’s not like Inho. he too has been brutalized by the games, crushed under the weight of the world’s cruelty, watching as the lives of those he loved dimmed. BUT! even so !! there’s this flicker of light in him — a really fucking stubborn and desperate hope to protect those who still live, to undo the wrongs. for all the pain he’s endured, he hasn’t completely surrendered to the darkness. he’s been pushed, stretched to the breaking point by the horrors he’s witnessed, by the blood shed that he can never wash away and still lingers even in his dreams … but there’s this part of him that still fights to hold on to the fragments of the man he used to be. he’s so stubbornly human.

and yet, it’s not the break that Inho is after imo — it’s the collapse. he doesn’t just want to see Gihun’s humanity crack; he wants to see him fold. he wants to make him question everything, even his need to protect others, even the value of his own moral code. to descend into madness, forsaking logic.

you can see him being fascinated when Gihun agrees to sacrifice people for the greater good. I swear, you can see Inho alive in that moment. I can’t explain it other than he’s feeding on him. he’s watching this man, so different from him, with scars that shine the same way, who once held onto some semblance of hope, succumb to the same darkness that devoured him.

he wants to see the man who refused to let the games destroy him finally fall into the same dark logic that built those games in the first place.

but here’s the thing — Gihun’s resistance, his refusal to just surrender to Inho's desires, drives him insane. Inho, for all his power, for all his twisted thrill at orchestrating this, isn’t immune to that same hunger. he sees Gihun as both a reflection and a challenge. it torments him. he wants to unravel him from the inside. the more he watches, the more he understands just how much it is tearing at him, how much he wants it.

there is a tenderness to it, a chilling, perverse tenderness, where one offers the illusion of safety while the other inches closer to the slaughter.

what drives me insane is that Gihun doesn’t know. he doesn’t know that the man he’s grown to trust, the one who’s quietly listened to his every confession, who has offered him that flicker of human connection in the desolate wasteland of the games, is the very demon he’s been chasing. the one that has orchestrated every nightmare he’s endured. and every time Gihun speaks of his mission, of his burning desire to kill the one who created this nightmare, to undo the games and get revenge Inho just listens intently, relishing in every moment of vulnerability.  and it’s delicious. Gihun is literally unraveling before him, piece by piece, and Inho hasn’t even revealed the true extent of his power!

the betrayal scene is going to be so good. SO FUCKING GOOD. it’s when Gihun talks about revenge, when he plans to end the game, to kill the person behind it all, that Inho feels that twisted thrill in his chest. because what Gihun doesn’t realize is that all those plans, all those quiet declarations of death, have been heard and they’ve been absorbed, broken down, and processed. Inho already knows what Gihun is capable of, what he’s willing to do, and how far he’s willing to go to get his revenge. it doesn’t matter to Inho. it never has. he’s already five steps ahead. Inho has studied Gihun like a surgeon carving through flesh, patiently unraveling his soul, savoring each fragile thread of hope only to tighten the noose, knowing that the moment Gihun’s trust shatters, so too will his humanity.

-> and like … Gihun’s humanity is his greatest weakness. his desperate hope to protect, to save, to make things right when he couldn’t before (example: in season 1 when a dying man reached for him and he looked away, in season 2 he helped a dying man) that's what Inho sinks his teeth into, because he knows that in this world, hope is the ultimate poison, the biggest gamble. every moment Gihun spends clinging to the idea that he can save anyone, that he can stop the game — that he can stop The Frontman — it draws him closer to the truth that will eventually shatter him.

and imo — Inho watches him with a twisted admiration, because in that desperate struggle, he sees himself or rather, the version of him that could’ve been if he had not embraced the game so fully. and in that, their paths, though seemingly different, are always converging. they are the same in the most brutal way: two sides of a coin, both marked by the same blood, the same violence, the same emptiness, and in the end, they are not so different after all. for all their differences, in the end — they are mirrors.

addition cause I saw this post and omg ?? it’s an intentional, almost possessive move. he’s not just playing along with their conversation; he’s LITERALLYYY replacing Jungbae with himself in Gihun’s mind, stepping into the role of someone who belongs in Gihun’s future.

Inho doesn’t just want power or control over the situation — he wants needs Gihun to need him, to see him as the one who’s always there, the one who understands him, the one who can stand beside him.

and to me, it feels like a possessive kind of longing that goes beyond mere rivalry or control. it’s ugh — just the way they orbit around each other, the way Inho needs Gihun to acknowledge him, to see him as more than just the “other guy that joined my team”.

and as much as Gi-hun is fighting to hold on to his humanity and the relationships that matter to him, Inho is just as desperately fighting to be the one that Gihun turns to in the end. it’s obsessive. it’s possessive. it’s dangerously romantic and I need them to fuck it out.

[harmonysanreads]

I KNOW WE HAVEN’T KNOWN ANYTHING ABOUT PHAINON YET (except for that cute face and yummy booba) AND I ALREADY HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT HIM.

Okay okay imagine Yandere! Phainon who loves you and cherishes your existence too much to the brink of obsession (can you blame him?). Him, being a perfect man himself still thinks that he lacks something, and that something is your devotion, your unyielding love because he deserves it, right? He deserves to have your attention and your affection after everything he has done for you.

Oh no, dear Phainon is definitely not a selfish man, he just needs your love to complete himself, to have someone that he could return to after a hard day.

That’s why I think this man will definitely love bombing you. Gifts, kisses, cuddles? Everything you want, everything you ask for. And even if you don’t even need it, he still offers it to you like the desperate puppy he is. He will spoil you rotten, and I mean it in the most respectful way. He found your smallest quirks adorable even if it’s not that special in your eyes. He reminds you to stay dehydrated and go to sleep early, he even tells you to eat healthy. That’s why after knowing him, you have never skipped another meal. And he will definitely coo softly to you whenever you feel insecure about yourself. That’s why you need him, that’s why you should rely on him. And the only thing Phainon ask for as a payback is your love, love him like the way he does to you. Please please because you’re his pretty girl and he loves you too much to even think that this is not a mutual feeling.

Can you really say no to him? To that adorable face and those sparkling blue eyes that seem to go lovesick everytime they catch a glimpse of you?

It was the fifth time this month, or was it the sixth? You couldn't be bothered to keep count anymore, the absurdity of the situation pushing you closer to questioning reality.

“You do know that it's illegal to break into a person's house?” you manage to croak out, senses strained by sickness.

“Break into your house?” he pulls out a chair to sit, the bowl of whatever he'd brought with him finding its place on the table beside your bed.

The near-dumbfounded edge to his question makes you deadpan, “You're so humorous, even when you're sick. How is it trespassing when we're in love with each other?”

You feel your fingers clutching onto your bedsheets, did he even hear you? Can he hear himself? To that, your conscience answers with a firm no. He'll only acknowledge what will suit his fancy, anything else is but you being in a ‘phase of denial’.

“I am not in love with you, how many times do I need to reiterate?” you stress, watching the twirl of the spoon as he stirs the contents in the bowl.

“Hush, I know you're just moody I didn't arrive sooner. I read it on that book you had on you on last Saturday. This is the part where I'm supposed to apologize and hold my ears, right—”

You release a heavy sigh.

You could not decide what begged the most concern : the fact that he doesn't see the problem in his behavior or how accustomed to it that you're getting.

A warm touch on your forehead startles you, another firmer grip on your arm stops you from moving away, “How are you still so energetic with this high a fever?” the candle atop the table flickers, a frown blemishes his face.

He leans in, you respond by increasing the distance. “I took medicine earlier.” you mutter, suddenly feeling like a guilty child.

“Did you? Good girl.” you don't need to look at him to picture the shine clinging at the corners of his lips. You shouldn't look at him for it'll reveal the barely held back cringe spreading across your face.

You're about to protest but a wave of dizziness halts you. Phainon notices the change, you find yourself wishing he wasn't so observant.

“But you haven't eaten, have you?” his hands act too familiar, too comfortable in touching you. You're forced to inhale as he cups your face in inspection, pretending it's for work — but you know, his greed extends too far for it to be anything but an excuse.

“I did eat.” you try to assert, he remains unconvinced.

“Are you still mad at me? If so, say it, I can apologize however you'd prefer. But please don't lie to me about matters that concern your health.” a squeeze to your cheeks, shadows fall on him.

You almost want to laugh at the worry in his eyes, at the way he behaves so much like a perfect lover. If you hadn't known better, the haze clouding your sense would've made you believe him, buy that he's being sincere.

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, you're just a bit more distrustful than others, just a bit more cautious than he's giving you credit for — a bit too lucid to have faith in his ‘love’ narrative.

You purse your lips, you are mad at him ; just not in the way he's deluding himself to be. As you contemplate whether to snap at him or not, he releases his grip on you in favor of scooping a spoon of the contents in the bowl, ending his path before your lips.

You turn you head away, a clear rejection. You expect him to probe again but his sigh catches you off-guard.

His finger wraps around a lock of your hair, yearning stains his eyes. “This would've never happened if you just accepted to be mine.”

You soak in his words for a second. Your left eye twitches as you realize, he completely ignored every previous piece of dialogue for his agenda.

“In your dreams.” petulance coats the statement.

To your horror, Phainon easily brings the lock of your hair to his lips, his smile widening as if he's got you exactly where he desires.

“How did you know? I do dream of you, everyday.” sparkles float around the air of his face.

You find yourself grasping at straws, how does one wake up a man who pretends to sleep? A voice in your interjects, perhaps it is for the best you cease these attempts altogether?

“Now, won't you continue to be a sweet girl and eat up?” his words are honey, his smile is blinding and oh so dreadfully, there is adoration in his face, in his every step.

It has alarm bells ringing in your head, because it doesn't make sense.

“No.” you sharply deny, pushing the spoon away again.

“Why not?” you notice just at the nick of time, there is an edge to his voice this time. A crack forming in that perfect face.

“Because I don't trust you. What if you mixed something weird in it?” that is an understatement, your distrust for the man stretches further than the food he offers.

The elders always say, if something is too good to be true, it is too good to be true. ‘Love’ is not reason enough for you to believe Phainon's apparent devotion, his benevolence. No man would squander his time and resources only to back it up with such an easy reasoning — at least, not a man like him. Even if he says it till your ears bleed — you will not believe him.

The Chrysos Heir's hum interrupts the silence, “Then, if I do this...”

Your quizzical gaze falls on him, he holds your stare and you feel a kick at your ribcage. Struggling is useless, but you try anyway ; if just to be petty, if just to drive your point across, if just to survive. He squashes your attempt with an insultingly easy grip, showing you exactly how futile it is.

His thumb parts your lips with an insistent press, joining his pointer finger in holding your mouth open next. Your nails scratch at his glove in a pitiful attempt at getting him away, his free hand holds them both captive.

His parted lips shrinking the distance is the last thing you see, before you close your eyes shut. You would breathe if your lungs hadn't given up, the increase of strength in Phainon's grip seizes you with fear, makes it feel as though your blood froze with dread. Your instincts stop kicking, accepting its place in the serpent's jaw.

You feel a sharp kick of spice on your tongue, washing through your parched throat. A force has you closing your mouth, holding it in place until the content has been swallowed.

You heave as if you reached the surface from an arduous dive at last, mind working overtime, trying to process what just took place.

A clink of the spoon as it's placed on the bowl startles you, Phainon closes his eyes, a smile nearly splits his face in two.

“That's more like it. See, it was delicious and perfectly free of questionable substances, no?”

Phainon's smile breaks into a chuckle at the astonished look on your face, you feel a twist somewhere inside at the way derision drips from its tune. But before you can observe further, you feel a swipe of his finger on your lower lip. You make the mistake of glancing at him and he utilizes your mishap to make a show of licking the residue from your lips clean.

If you were skeptical about it before, you are certain now — this man will be your doom.

SIKE.

[aajjks]

RAW (m)

synopsis. Just Toji fucking you angrily from behind.

warnings: èxplícít smüt, ràw sèx, 18+ thèmès, fúckíng fròm bèhínd, ángry fúckíng, hátè fückíng, mèán tójí, únprótèctèd sèx. mdní

note. HAPPYYYY NEWWWW YEARRRRRRRRRRR GUYSSSSS!!!! let’s start this year with nasty filthy smut. lmao I hope this year will be great for us all mentally butttttt if yall follow me? Your year will be the greatest. <33 please re-blog. And follow me hehe

He’s fucking you so hard it hurts your tightening hole.

Toji Fushiguro’s anger and frustrations always have you laying on your stomach as he fucks you from behind, hard and fast as he grips your as, digging his nails into the fragile skin.

He’s been at it for hours, you don’t understand what has got him so frustrated and angry, but you don’t dare to ask him about that because whenever you do, he shoves something into your mouth and gags you.

“nghhh aghhh ahhh!~” you scream into the mattress as he shows your face deeper into the soft bed, his cock feels so hard.

He’s literally splitting you open, you can hear his labored breathing, his groans, the weight of his body is actually too much, he’s so freaking heavy.

He’s always been a muscular and big guy so this is really a struggle for you right now, but it feels so fucking good too.

That is the problem.

“ugh FUCKKK. This tight hole is fucking good.

His language has always been crude and the way he’s fucking you right now. It’s like he’s punishing you, but this punishment is so confusing because it’s pleasurable and yet so painful.

Your boyfriend is a man who is hard to understand, he loves you, but he also fucks you like he hates you.

His dick will probably kill you.

Hes came inside you so many times. It’s dark out at this hour, but he has no intentions of stopping.

“Oh yn- ugh I’m gonna fuckin cum.” He growls, his voice is going throughout the bedroom, the bedroom reeks of smoke sweat, and sex.

Your body feels like jelly. It’s like you have no energy to mutter a single word out. His hips keep working their pace.

It’s so painful.

You want him to stop but it’s impossible when he’s fucking knew so hard that you are seeing stars. You grip on the mattress tighter. He’s pistoning in and out of you.

Toji stands behind you, his eyes burning with unrestrained fury as he glares at your back.

He’s so angry, as he fucks your hole raw.

His hands are balled into fists, fingers digging into his palms.

He’s not angry at you—not directly… but you can feel it radiating off of him, the heat of his frustration simmering dangerously close to the surface.

“You think I don’t know what’s going on?”

he mutters, his voice harsh, like it’s barely holding itself together.

The words aren’t aimed at you, but the way he says them, low, threatening—makes your skin prickle. “You think you can keep pushing me without consequences?”

He steps closer, the air around you tightening as his breath grows heavier. His frustration is palpable, like a storm ready to tear everything in its path.

His voice drops, a growl building in his chest. “I’ve had enough of this shit. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?”

He’s so close now, his body looming behind yours, and you can feel the anger and something else, something darker, burning in him.

It’s not just the tension of being forced to hold it in—it’s everything building up that he can’t quite control anymore.

“You’re making me fucking lose it,” he seethes, his voice thick with irritation and raw need.

His hand brushes the small of your back, dangerously close, as if he’s trying to anchor himself in something real. “I don’t know whether to break something or… something else.”

“So gonna fucking break you instead.”

His words send shivers down your spine because you know that he means it and tonight your body is gonna be broken in more ways than one.

His breathing quickens, but it’s not out of desire for you—not entirely. It’s the anger, the frustration spilling over, and he’s taking it out on you, because it’s easier than confronting whatever’s really eating at him.

He’s going to cum again.

You’re driving me crazy,” he mutters, the words sharp and desperate. “And I’m fucking done being patient.”

Every word drips with pent-up aggression, frustration, and an undeniable hunger that mixes with his anger, making him unpredictable and wild.

He has always been unpredictable.

“ASS UP.”

He forces your ass up, angling himself deeper into you as he fucks you both renewed vigor

You’re drooling, he pulls at your hair hard, you’re scalp burns add the sensation, and you let out a yelp of pain, but it changes into a a moan of pleasure as he hits that one particular spot.

“Mhmm yeah you slut admit it you loved me and fucked like this with by me. You know what you are. You are my little fucking doll that I love destroying when I’m angry.”

You mewl, he’s right.

But no words coming out because he’s literally fucking you senseless. And you are loving it.

“This new year better not be shit or else. I’m gonna fucking kill someone.”

[dollienarc]

hot take but some of this shading just doesnt fucking work . like in the mitsukou pic it works really well dont get me wrong but some of these shades of blue do not mesh well with the rest of the colors

like this teru and akane picture is the biggest example i can point to where these shades of blue do not go with the rest of the image and makes it look so ugly. especially the pants. the shade of blue used on the pants is way too saturated

this is also such a weird design change essentially, imo these shades of blue don't go that well with the kamone uniform. they just clash with everything else goingn on in the uniform, and don't pop out in a good way

now here's nene's uniform in a recent chapter but without the weird out of place shades of blue. the brown works way way wayyy better than those bright blues when it comes to her uniform!

sometimes in art you want your colors to pop, but sometimes these can 'pop' for all of the wrong reasons... like with the uniforms suddenly having a vibrant blue. i think the blue shading is a good change, but its being overused in scenes where it doesnt work

something about the way aida has been using blue for shading and lighting in the recent arts >>

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Obsession

She’s so effortlessly gorgeous. She’s everything I could ever want and more. The way her hair falls, the way her body moves, the way she smells, the way she laughs and crinkles her nose, it’s all fucking perfect. She’s perfect.

She has no idea who I am but I know everything about her. Between the trackers I’ve installed on her car and phone, the cameras and microphones strategically placed throughout her apartment, and access to every online account she has, I know all there is to know about my girl. I know exactly what time she wakes up in the morning (6:15am), the way she likes her coffee (with honey instead of sugar), the workout class she likes to take in the mornings (hot yoga), the route to work she likes to take (along the river because she likes seeing the boats on the water), and everything she likes to do beyond that. There’s nothing about her that I don’t know, and that just goes to show how perfect I am for her.

She doesn’t know that yet but she will. She’ll learn how perfect we are for each other and she’ll accept that she is mine.

It’s Friday night and my girl is exactly where I expect her to be. At home, curled up with a book and a cup of tea to unwind from a long week of work. Soon, her Friday nights will involve curling up with me while she reads and I can make her tea just the way she likes and rub her feet while she unwinds. I would do that for her every night because I intend to keep my girl forever.

I’m parked a block away from her apartment, monitoring her through the cameras streaming a live feed onto my laptop. While she was at work today, I slipped into her apartment and added a little something extra to her tea. Something to ensure that she’d fall asleep earlier than usual and stay asleep until I could get her situated.

I watch her yawn and stretch, seeing the drug start to work its magic on her already. It doesn’t take long for her to call it a night and settle into bed, her eyes drifting closed as soon as her head hits the pillow. I smile as I get out of my car to collect what’s mine.

A sense of exhilarating excitement fills me as I use my copy of her key to unlock her door and slip into her home. Of course I take my shoes off, I know my girl prefers a shoes-off home, and I pad across her hardwood floors to her bedroom. I smile when I see her there, curled up on her side, wearing those cute pajamas. I leave her there for now, opting to first pack a bag for her, grabbing a few sets of clothes and making sure to fill her toiletry bag up with her favorite skincare products.

I sling the packed bag over my shoulder and head to the bed to scoop up my sleeping beauty. It’s easy work to carry her out the door and to my car. I slide her into the passenger seat and buckle her in. She’s so cute like this, sleeping and unconscious to the world around her. I drop a kiss to her forehead and smile as I shut the door. It’s a quick drive to my place and within the hour, I have her tucked into my bed, her clothes unpacked into my closet (of course I’ve already made space for her stuff), and her skincare lining her sink (of course I have his-and-hers sinks for us).

I slide into bed next to her and wrap myself around her, pulling her in close and breathing in her scent. Fuck, she smells so good and she’s so soft in my arms. She fits perfectly, just like I knew she would. I have a few hours before the drugs run through her system so I set an alarm and close my eyes, letting myself drift off to sleep holding my girl, the first night of forever.

I wake up to the sound of my alarm and look down at my girl in my arms. We’d shifted at some point in our sleep, my on my back and her sprawled over me, her leg thrown over my hip. It makes me smile, it’s like her body already knows to seek out mine even though her mind is absent.

I pull her closer and drop another kiss to her forehead before I stretch and slide out from underneath her grasp. A glance at the time tells me I have less than an hour before she’ll wake up, which means now it’s time for some final preparations.

I pull the blanket off the bed, leaving her exposed in her pajamas. They get taken off next, my touch gentle as I strip her bare, revealing every part of her perfect body to me. I groan low in my throat as I see her soft skin revealed. I watch a small shiver run up her body and the sight of it makes me frown. I don’t want my girl getting cold so I go adjust the thermostat, bumping the temperature up a few degrees.

I walk back to the bed, drinking in the image of her splayed naked in my bed. My cock is already rock hard but I don’t pay it any attention because she’s got all of it. I wish I could leave her like this, I wish she’d wake up and smile at me but I know my girl well enough to know that her first reaction to being kidnapped is not going to be a good one. But that’s okay, I prepared for that and I know it won’t take long to convince her that she would be happy with me. For now, it means using the soft leather cuffs I’ve already attached to bed frame. I don’t want my girl getting any ideas about escaping and hurting herself.

I gently click her wrists and ankles into the cuffs, making sure they’re tight enough to keep her still but not too tight to leave any bruising or pain. I smile and brush her hair off her face, she looks so fucking perfect like this. I can’t believe I get to have her.

I grab a small ball gag and slide the rubber in between her full lips before buckling the straps behind her head, taking care not to catch her hair. I almost didn’t want to gag her but I don’t want her screaming and hurting her vocal chords.

I settle in to wait out the last few minutes of the drug in her system but it’s impossible to keep my hands off her. I run a soft touch up and down her body, giving her pretty nipples each a soft pinch before sliding against her core, gently stroking up and down. She’s so perfect, I can feel her responding to my touch already.

A smile breaks across my face when I see her face twitch and her nose scrunch in the tell-tale sign of her waking up. I see her eyelids flutter and I watch as a little crease forms between her eyebrows as her sleepy confusion hits her. Her eyes fly open and I watch as fear overtakes her mind.

“Shush, darling, it’s okay. I’ve got you, it’s okay, don’t panic,” I murmur as I drop soft kisses along her hairline. Her fear is palpable in the air between us and it makes me sad but I know I’ll make it all better soon. She makes muffled protests behind the gag, thrashing against the cuffs holding her down.

“Shush, no don’t struggle, darling. I don’t want you hurting yourself. Please, just calm down and I’ll explain everything, I promise,” I keep my voice soft and soothing as I meet her wild eyes. I run my fingers gently through her hair to calm her.

It takes a little bit more time before she comes to terms of her confinement and gives up the struggling. I smile down at her when I see that she’s finally stopped moving, “See now, it’s okay, everything is perfectly fine.”

She glares at me and I hear a muffled curse from behind the gag. It makes me laugh lightly, my girl is so feisty. “Don’t struggle, darling. I’m here for you, I’m here to take care of you and you’ll never have to worry about anything other than being my good girl from now on.” I trail my fingers down her face and leave my hand resting against her throat, feeling her pulse fluttering beneath my palm.

I can see the anger and fear on her face but I know it won’t stick around for long. Not once she understands how perfect I am for her and how good I can make her feel. I press a loving kiss against her cheek, ignoring the way she renews her struggles at that.

“This is your new home now, darling. I have everything you could ever need here and I’ll buy you whatever you want, whenever you want. I brought all your favorite things here when I picked you up from your apartment today, and don’t worry, if I missed anything, I can go back and grab it before we terminate your lease.”

My words seem to add fuel to her fear and I see tears start to gather in her pretty eyes. “Oh, darling, don’t cry. It’s going to be okay, I know you really liked that apartment with the nice bay windows and high ceilings but I promise you’ll like our new home just as much.”

She shakes her head and I smile sweetly at her. “Yeah, that’s right, I know every single thing about you. I’ve been watching you, learning everything there is to learn so that I can fulfill your every need.”

I press another kiss against her cheek and trace the shape of her face with my tongue gently before stopping right against her ear where I whisper, “And I know exactly how you like to touch your pretty little pussy at night when you’re all alone and desperate to cum. I promise, I can do it better.”

I feel her body shudder against me and she lets out the most delicious little whine. I know that turned her on, made her pussy clench and her clit throb. “Don’t be shy, darling, you don’t have you hide your dirty little fantasies from me. I know you, I know exactly what you like to think about while you rub that pretty little clit. You want this, you want a man to take you and kidnap you and claim you.”

My free hand trails up and down her body, playing with her sensitive nipples. “Fuck, darling, you feel so fucking good in my hands. Like you were made for me, made to be mine.”

I give one of her nipples are particularly harsh pinch and her body arches against mine, a sweet muffled whimper breaking out from underneath the gag. I laugh before attaching my mouth to the soft column of her neck. I take my time leaving little kisses and sucking a love bite, feeling my girl’s pulse jump every time I scrape my teeth against her sensitive little throat.

“You’re being so good now, darling. Looks like all your needed was the promise of a good fuck, hm? And I promise you’ll have that for the rest of our lives.” I press open mouthed kisses down her body and finally end up between her legs.

She looks so fucking good, all spread out for me and helpless. “Fuck, darling, that pretty little pussy’s all wet and ready for me. Your body knows who it belongs to,” my voice takes on a rougher edge as the excitement of what’s to come makes my patience start to wane.

I settle in between her legs and press my lips against her pretty pussy. I let out a low moan against her, “You taste so good, darling. All for me.”

I feel her hips jerk underneath me and I glance up at her. She looks like a goddess, her pupils blown out wide, face tinged pink, and a soft, dazed look of pleasure written across her face. I shift my focus back to her dripping pussy and dive in.

Soft licks against her clit before I run my tongue from top to bottom, my hands gripping her thighs to keep her still and open for me. I press my tongue deep into her pussy, her taste overwhelming my senses and making my cock impossibly harder. I lose myself in her, every cell of my body wanting, needing to make her feel good.

I hear her soft whimpers and moans leaking out from behind the gag and it’s all a testament to how good I’m making her feel. Her pussy is clenching rhythmically as I keep up the unrelenting attention on her sensitive little clit and I know she’s close. I slide a finger into her, crooking it in a way that I know she’ll like and pull my mouth off for a second to look at her.

“You look like an angel, so fucking perfect for me. I promise, I’m going to make you feel this good all the time. I’ll do anything for you, darling, and I’m never fucking letting you go.” Her pleasure-drunk eyes meet mine and I watch her give into me. I watch as the last bits of her resistance fade away and she gives herself to me. She’s mine.

I bury my face back into her pussy and suck hard on her clit while driving my fingers deep inside of her. Her back arches even more and I hear her muffled scream as she explodes for me. I don’t stop, maintaining the same tempo with my fingers and mouth, working her through her orgasm. I hear the whimpers and whines spilling out of her but it’s not enough to make me stop. I want to make her feel even better.

I look up and see tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she begs me to give her a break with her gaze. I shoot her a smile before licking my lips, “Don’t fret, darling, I promised to make you feel good and I intend to keep that promise.” My fingers rub softly against her clit as I bring my mouth back to between her legs.

A lick along her slit draws another high, desperate whine from her. “Aw, darling, I know, it feels so good it’s overwhelming isn’t it? It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

I bury my face into her pussy and suck hard on her clit before sliding two fingers into her dripping cunt. I can feel her body straining underneath me but I’m too focused to give her any relief. A few more lashes of my tongue and she’s falling apart for a second time.

This time she starts to beg behind the gag. It makes me smile but does nothing to stop what I’m doing. Her desperate cries and pleas sound so pretty falling out of her mouth but there’s no force in the world that could stop me from getting what I want out of her.

“You sound so desperate begging like that, darling. Don’t cry, just enjoy how good I can make you feel. There’s no one else who could treat you this well.” My fingers are covered in her wetness, each thrust inside of her making a deliciously lewd symphony.

I meet her eyes and see how far gone she is. Her desperation and want is so clearly written on her face. I see a crease form between her eyebrows and I know she’s close to cumming again.

I lean down, capturing her sensitive little clit in my mouth and I hear her cries get louder as the sensation overwhelms her. I can tell this orgasm is going to be so much bigger than her last two by the way she’s writhing and her pussy is shuddering around my fingers. A muffled sob is the only warning I get before she shatters into her release, squirting as she does. Her pretty pussy clamps down around my fingers and I groan into her, the taste of her sweet cum on my tongue.

“Fuck, look at you, squirting so well for me. Such a perfect little girl, I know that’s your first time squirting. I bet you didn’t think you could but you just needed me to coax it out of you, isn’t that right, darling?”

Her cries have died down to soft little whimpers as I finish licking up everything she has to offer and finally pull away.

I crawl up her body and settle myself next to her, seeing her wrecked body splayed out for me and tears leaking out of her eyes. “So fucking good for me, darling. You did so well, didn’t that feel so good?”

She gives a small, shy nod and meets my eyes. I smile at my pretty girl, “I love you, darling, and you belong to me. I will never let you go.” I pull the gag out of her mouth and before she can speak, press my lips against hers, sealing my promise with a kiss.

There’s so much more of her I intend to claim tonight.

Note: I’m kinda loving writing from a man’s perspective because then I can make him do all the things I want 😂 but hope y’all enjoyed this!

[teaspoontarot]

Pick A Card: What Will The New Year Bring?

Pick a pile 1-4!

These messages are meant to sweeten your day and add a teaspoon of fun! You will always know yourself and your situation the best, therefore everything written here is just to give you a little nudge or to add a little sweetness!

🍵 Teaspoon

Pile 1 💫

Back in business! This past year has had its ups and downs especially regarding the home or close friends. Possibly involving rumor or gossip that has caused tension and pain. You’ve opened the windows and let the air blow through so anything that didn’t need to stay has found its way out.This year you’re focusing on the practical side of life. The turning of a new leaf 🍃.

You’ve been honest with yourself and others and now you’re moving on! You’re no longer waiting for someone to join you in your life and are now focused on just enjoying the ride as it comes. Good tidings and joy for this new year, a more relaxed (or enjoyable) roller-coaster than the one you just got off of. This year isn’t so much about slowing down but more so appreciating how far you’ve come.

There’s still a lot left to do but from where you’re standing the view already looks pretty great. You’re putting down new roots and making a name for yourself!

The new year brings stability and foundation. A new business venture or recognition. A rise in self-esteem and better communication. Joy to be found in the unlikeliest of places.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Two of Swords ⚔️

“Aim for a meeting of minds, for your mutual interest…working on trust and knowing when to trust a hunch”

Affirmations

“When I Think I’ve Surrendered, I Surrender More”

“I Speak Positively of Others”

“I Spread Joy”

Pile 2 ✨

Healing, healing, healing. Learning to forgive yourself and to love yourself with grace. There’s someone you’ve walked away from and the pain still stings. You’ve been stabbed in the side and still hoped that it was simply an accident.

You want to love and cherish so much that you feel a bit silly. Maybe you feel like you need to force yourself back to reality or that what you want simply isn’t for you. This is gentle reminding you that whatever happened does not mean the end. Very rarely is the world so black and white, and frequently things that are broken can be healed or find a new space in the world.

Do not be harsher on yourself than you would be to somebody else. You don’t have to always rise above it all, sometimes it’s nice to rest and find a place to sleep. Stormy waters do not make stronger swimmers, just more tired one. You may feel like you’ve been drowning for years and you’ve only been able to find stray driftwood to cling onto. You will find land, and it will feel strange but good. You’ve swam for so long it feels odd to rest. Forgive yourself for the rest you need. The help will fill it’s way to you.

Your new year brings much needed space, healing, and little discomfort but ultimately what is needed to find stability and foundation.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Ace of Cups 💘

"The start of something wonderful: a taste of whatever is your Holy Grail”

Affirmations

“I Find Deeper Meaning, And Personal Growth Amid The Discomfort”

“I Am Forgiving”

Pile 3🎆

Dreams coming true! You’ve been focused and have faced obstacles you never thought you could get over. Now comes the easy part! Be excited and gracious as this new year rings in. The times when you were honest even though it scared you are pushing you forward.

Honesty does not have to be cruel, it can be sweet and show truth warmth for yourself and others. You’re finding the people who understand you the most and the goals you’ve carried on your back for so long you have finally found space for them.

You’ve climbed the mountain with a heavy burden and now it is time to enjoy the sunrise! Take a seat, have a drink of your choice and share a laugh.

The new year is all about joy, friends, family and an appreciation of what it took to get there. People have your back and you have theirs, true partnership! Love surrounds you in the new year! Enjoy it!

Tarot For The Year Ahead

Ten of Swords 🌠

“The battle has been won! Expect a hug release of pent-up energy in your heart and body”

Three of Swords 🌟

“You have the opportunity to establish the contract. Be fair in your arrangements”

Eight of Pentacles🌹

“A regular and reliable arrangement or resource: sometimes we just want someone who can comfortably deliver”

Affirmations

“My Energy Creates My Reality. What I Focus On Is What I Will Manifest”

“I Do Good”

Pile 4🌸

Everything that you're wanting is waiting for you but you have to let go of someone or something. This is the year of transformation or renewal. Spring is coming and it wants to invite you in with open arms. Let yourself bloom as you need to.

You are being asked to take a little more control in the matters that may be impacting you. There may be a hard conversation you will have to have with yourself about what you truly want. You have to be honest with yourself. There’s an open door waiting for you but you fear walking through it and worry about the consequences of such an action. A slight feeling of indecision but you already know the answer, it’s the moving forward that is scary.

There are people that will meet you on the other side, and there are others rooting for you to take that first step. Like baby bird trying to crack open it’s shell. The world is awaiting you, in all of it’s harsh beauty. Staying where you are will lead to discontent.

The new year bring you discomfort, but truth and the power to push forward.

Tarot For The Year Ahead

The Awakening🎊

“Accept a unique opportunity. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed. Make a liberating change in your worldview”

Seven of Pentacles✈️

“Don’t overthink a situation that simply needs to run its course”

The Hanged One🚞

“Be aware of an uncomfortable limbo. Being stuck in role”

Affirmations

“I Am The Dreamer of My Dream”

“I Consume Only My Fair Share”

“I Hold Purity In High Esteem”

“I Regard All Altars With Respect”

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! 😊

I have a character with albinism in my story and I need help figuring out what to do about her photophobia. The setting is a medieval fantasy world and the character is a dragon.

The problem I'm having is that she's huge. She's probably around the size of a blue whale.

I was going to give her sunglasses, but they would be absolutely massive and extremely heavy, and I feel like the weight of the frame pressing down on her skin all day would probably be extremely uncomfortable or even cause skin damage. Also, the glasses would probably be really thick and I'm not sure if she would even be able to see through that much tinted glass?

I thought about a hat, but I'm not sure what it would be made out of. I feel like any sort of fabric at that size would just crumple under its own weight. I could have supports inside of it, but that would probably make it really heavy which wouldn't be good for her neck.

The only other thing I can think of is some sort of semi-transparent fabric veil that she can tie around her head that covers her eyes, but I know that trope is kind of iffy. Although I'm not sure if it would count since she's not legally blind (her vision is around 20/100. I think. Would vision measurments still work the same for someone with giant eyeballs? 🤔)

Is there anything else I can give her to protect her eyes that won't hurt her?

If it makes a difference there are two blind characters in the story who do not wear glasses of any kind, and another character with albinism who wears sunglasses and a hat.

Hello!

I believe I'm the only active mod with photophobia so I'll try answering, but keep in mind I'm neither blind nor do I have albinism.

So photophobia is a spectrum, right - it's really wide. On one end you have people who can't open their eyes because of the pain unless they're in a completely blacked-out room and on the other are people who kinda just push through it and don't bother with anything. There's a huge variety in severity. I was on both of these (plus everything in-between, plus non-photophobic at one point too) so I'll try to give you some ideas.

If she's on the first end, then well - close the eyes, and hopefully she has a sighted guide. Sunglasses don't help here anyway (source: experience) unless she'd have to wear them while closing her eyes because the tiny amount of light showing through a person's eyelids can still be painful (source: experience). A hat or a veil here would be like putting a bandage on someone who blew up. If she's permanently like this, she's functionally totally blind (but with some stereotypes that don't really represent all totally blind people - most of them don't keep their eyes closed 24/7).

If she's on the second end then I already kinda answered your question; Nothing is sometimes a solution. Same how not everyone with knee pain uses a cane, even if it technically could be of some benefit - too much hassle.

Now for the hard part: everything in-between these two. Since your character is somewhat logistically complicated due to both being a dragon and of that size, I'll try to think of the accommodations one can do with their body rather than external aids.

Squinting is a legitimate strategy. Is it great, not really. But it does work for a lot of people. You can squint your way through a lot.

Hand (claw?) to shield against the sun, same as above. Most people (IDK about dragons) don't sit around in bright sun all day, if you quickly have to go through an area like this you can just cover it.

Brow ridge (no idea what is the dragon equivalent) is a sort of built-in sun protection on its own to be honest. It's definitely not 100% for obvious reasons, but it does help against the brightest light sources. However, with her being a dragon this could be a legitimately successful solution - both Eastern Asian and European dragons tend to be portrayed with protruding parts above their eyes. Normally I'd say that it would be a bit of a cop-out, but as you say there is another character with the same disability, so I'm not worried here.

Last solution would be some sort of contacts. Obviously they didn't exist in medieval times, but there's a dragon there already so it's fine to get creative - could shed scales be thinned down and used as a block-out contact? Maybe some sort of mineral? Or leaves from a comically big tree? All of these would definitely hurt a human but again, dragon anatomy and how tough their eyes are is free to speculate about until something very unexpected happens.

Now for the rest;

Consider her lifestyle and where she physically lives. Is there a lot of sun there? Does she go outside during the day? Does she prefer winter over summer because she can go out more (and/or with less pain)? Not all photophobiacs will have the same kind of lifestyle and will thus need different accommodations; keep that in mind.

Hope this helps! Good luck writing disabled dragons

mod Sasza

[thekitsandthekats]

i wonder if people understand that to hate haley is to really really misunderstand aaron.

like, im not trying to make this about him but i think stories are so intertwined because obviously they are.

haley and aaron were highshool sweethearts! he said he fell in love with her after watching her rehearse. haley must've felt something too for them to be together, then to be together that long! she's been with him through law school, through being a prosecutor, through being on S.W.A.T, through FBI training and all the years working up to being the Unit Chief of the BAU. she's been right there with him!

they have jack and there is her happy family, the peaceful idyllic life dreams are made of, but of course aaron keeps working, he's always traveling to situations where he could die at any moment. that's hard, guys. to know that your husband could go to work and not come back, every single day. haley is an incredibly strong and loyal person and determined to keep her family together. but all of that is difficult in the face of aarons job. she knows that he loves her and jack, she knows that he's a good father but she also knows he's bound to duty, to his job, to saving eveyone he can. when she leaves its not because the love wasn't there but because she couldn't do it anymore. and there's strength in that too.

to leave the love of your life, the father of your children, someone you've been with through so much, since you were a teenager. do yall understand how difficult that must've been.

and even after she leaves, she still sends aaron videos of jack and little updates on his life. i always think of the end scene in seven seconds when aaron asks to see jack even though he's sleeping. haley stares at him for a beat before she says yes and ive always thought that she must see something on his face. a kind of look that means he's just come back from a difficult case and needs the reassurance of his family. so, of course she says yes.

the reason i say to hate haley is to misunderstand aaron is because her death broke him in unimaginable ways. the guilt must eat at him, killing him everyday. do you understand how important family is to aaron. he tells rossi once that he did everything for his family, that before the divorce he tried his hardest in everything. and to have haley be murdered because of her connection to him, because foyet used her as a tool to get to him.

he loved her with everything in him, and haley loved him just the same. to not respect her position in his life, is you doing a disservice to yourself. theirq story is heartbreaking gold.

im honestly tired of all the criminal minds fans dismissing haleys death. like that woman is strong. she knew damn well in that moment she was going to die but her kid was right there so she held herself together until her last final moments, so idc if “she cheated” or whatever bullshit yall try and use to hate on her — she was such an understanding wife and an amazing mother and im tired of yall shitting on her when you wouldn’t be able to handle half the shit she went through.

and i can now breathe!

[rottenpumpkin13]

Yo pumpkin pie, quick question: What was the Worst New Years Eve party on the SOLDIER floor?

( @izunias-meme-hole )

New Years Eve(ryone is insane)

• Shinra's annual New Year's Eve party is in full swing. Angeal and Sephiroth are sitting at a table, watching a group of Third Class SOLDIERs dive under the table and start eating their 12 grapes.

Angeal: People take their New Year's traditions so seriously. It's not like any of it actually changes anything. Progress is about the work you put in, not resolutions.

Sephiroth: Actually, I disagree. This year, I've decided to make a resolution and stick to it, starting tonight.

Angeal: Oh? What is it?

*Sephiroth grabs the plate in front of him, throws it frisbee-style across the room, and hits Kunsel in the back of the head*

Angeal: !

Sephiroth: That was part of it. Don't worry, it'll all make sense in the end.

Angeal: What does that mean??

Sephiroth: Oh, I can't say. I heard that if you state your resolution, it loses its power.

*A hand shoots out from under the table and grabs Angeal's leg. Angeal screams*

Genesis: Pass me the grape platter on the table.

Angeal: WHAT ARE YOU DOING??

Genesis, chewing: Eating grapes under the table for good luck.

*They lift the tablecloth. Genesis is under there with thousands of grapes like a doomsday hoarder*

Sephiroth: How many grapes do you have?

Genesis: One for each hour of the year, obviously. Why stop at one for every month when I can maximize my good luck?

Sephiroth: May I have a grape?

Genesis: Perish.

Sephiroth:

*Zack walks up to the table*

Zack: This New Year's Eve sucks. I can't find anyone to kiss me at midnight. Everyone's already paired up!

Sephiroth: Don't look at me. Affection goes directly against my New Year's resolution.

Angeal: That sentence makes me feel unsafe.

*Sephiroth stands up, walks over to Tseng and Rufus' table, pours a glass of champagne onto Tseng's plate, and walks back*

Genesis: You just made Tseng have a panic attack.

Sephiroth: It'll all make sense in the end.

*Sephiroth walks away*

Angeal: He's going to kill someone. I'd better follow him.

*Angeal gets up and chases after Sephiroth. Lazard walks by, dressed head-to-toe in a designer white suit*

Genesis: Director, you look fantastic.

Lazard: Thank you, Genesis. It's good luck to wear white on New Year's Eve, which is why I've gone all out.

*Genesis accidentally sneezes and the grapes he'd been eating sprays all over Lazard's suit*

Lazard: …

Zack: Director, will you make out with me at midnight?

Lazard: …

• Angeal and Sephiroth are walking around the party. They stop by the refreshments table, where Sephiroth takes a slice of cake and smashes it into a decorative ice sculpture. Angeal is terrified.

Angeal: Seph, please just tell me what your resolution is. I won't judge!

Sephiroth: For the last time, no. Your lack of faith in me is concerning.

Angeal: Your current behavior is concerning.

Sephiroth: It'll all make sense in the end.

*Cissnei walks by, Sephiroth stops her*

Cissnei: Hey guys!

Sephiroth: Angeal's charisma and charm are strictly limited to platonic friendships, which explains why he's perpetually awkward around women, and why he's still single and lonely.

Angeal: WHAT?

Cissnei: Uh, I—I just remembered I have to check on something. Nice seeing you!

*Cissnei quickly retreats as Angeal turns to Sephiroth*

Sephiroth: It'll all make sense in the end

Angeal: NO IT WON'T.

• Zack hit the peak of desperation and is now trying to flirt with Kunsel.

Zack: Come on, man. Midnight's almost here. Just one little kiss?

Kunsel: Sorry, buddy. I already promised to kiss someone else.

Zack: Who? Who could possibly top me as a kisser? Does all our years of friendship mean nothing to you? After everything we've been through together? People dream of kissing me! I'm practically SOLDIER's most eligible bachelor!

Kunsel: SOLDIER's most eligible bachelor just begged me for a pity kiss.

Zack: That's not pity! That's loyalty! And apparently, you don't have any! Now who could you possibly want to kiss over me!

*Darkstar comes padding over and licks Kunsel's hand*

Zack, sobbing: I HOPE YOU TWO WILL BE VERY HAPPY TOGETHER.

• While Angeal is busy wrestling an entire turkey from Sephiroth, who wants to throw it at Professor Hojo, Zack slumps back to the table, defeated. He starts venting to Genesis.

Zack: Maybe I should just give up. I'm never getting kissed at midnight.

*Genesis starts choking on a grape*

Genesis: !!!

Zack: I can't believe I have to sit here, alone, as the clock strikes twelve, watching all these people get their good luck kisses. It's so unfair.

Genesis, stil choking: !!!

Zack: Wait, you know what? That's a quitter's mentality, and I'm not a quitter!

Genesis, turning blue: !!!!

Zack: I'm gonna get back out there and try to find my midnight kiss.

Genesis, on the brink of death: ! ! ! ! !

Zack: Thanks, Genesis! You're a great listener.

*Zack pats him on the back, the grape flies out*

Genesis, completely fine: ….

• Zack goes back out to the party to try to find someone to kiss at midnight. Meanwhile, Angeal and Sephiroth return to the table. Genesis is still force-feeding himself grapes.

Angeal: Man, you're going to make yourself sick.

Genesis: Perhaps, but at least I'm not as bad as Zack, who's darting about like a lovesick puppy, chasing the faintest flicker of a midnight flame.

*Zack runs by, chasing Reno*

Zack: JUST KISS ME!

Reno: HELP!

*Lazard approaches, his designer suit is crisp and white again*

Sephiroth: Director, you've outdone yourself.

Angeal: You've never looked better.

*Genesis sneezes grape all over Lazard's suit*

Lazard: WHAT THE F—

• Everyone starts counting down. Zack is pacing nervously while the others gather around the table.

Zack: Now or never! One of you have to kiss me.

Angeal: I honestly wouldn't mind if you were anyone else. But considering that I'm your mentor, it'd be too weird.

Zack: What about you, Genesis?

*Genesis, sick from eating too many grapes, is slumped against the table*

Genesis: Ugh…

*Sephiroth grabs the decorative flower vase in the middle of the table, pours out the water, takes the flowers, and bites the arrangement*

Angeal: STOP THAT AND TELL ME YOUR RESOLUTION.

Sephiroth: Midnight's coming. Patience.

Zack: SOMEONE KISS ME ALREADY! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!

*Cloud suddenly appears out of nowhere, kisses Zack, and vanishes just as quickly*

Zack: ! <3 ? <3 ! <3 ?

*The whole party cheers and welcomes the new year*

Angeal: Sephiroth, for the love of Gaia, just tell me what your resolution is! Whatever it is, I won't judge you. You're my friend. I'll support you in whatever you wish to pursue. I'll even support you if it's something challenging. But please, trust me with your resolution.

Sephiroth: Oh, there is no resolution. I was just messing with you.

Angeal: SON OF A FUCKING BIRJWOJPOEIXBDFQSBDHWWD AWEDFGYHNKOJNBGV TGYHUJIDEMKHBGFTC G7YHUJIMKL

Sephiroth: I don't know what language that is, but don't insult my mother in it.

[suzukiblu]

Day thirty-one of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. And we have now successfully done the month! 💗🎉 Think I wrote about . . . 25k this time, give or take? So pretty pleased with that, haha, I think that's pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

That’s about when he comes, but Tim told him not to stop even if he did, so he doesn’t; so he rides them just as hard even as everything goes all oversensitive and overwhelming and his body wants to shake apart right down to the bone and Bernard keeps kissing him and Tim presses a soft, gentle little kiss against the back of his neck and either he’s still coming or he just comes again, somehow, and it’s all he can do not to sob about it. 

Kon doesn’t know how long the other two last after that, because he absolutely forgets how time works for all of it. He doesn’t have a sense for it, a sense of it; everything’s just the too-much, too-intense, too-perfect pressure and heat and fullness and how their hands hold onto him and how their cocks fill him up and how they both kiss him, kiss his mouth and spine and throat and collarbone; everything’s just him trying to make his body work right, make his body keep working right–keep riding them the same, and keep kissing Bernard back, and keeping his TTK from doing too much, except that part he’s not so sure he manages, but it just feels so fucking good, but–

But Tim didn’t tell him to keep his TTK from doing too much. Tim just told him not to stop. 

So that’s the only thing Kon can actually be sure he’s gonna manage, one way or the other. 

He thinks Tim comes first, maybe–thinks he feels Tim come first, maybe–and Bernard comes a few seconds or minutes or hours later, and Tim’s gasping and panting against his neck in a way he doesn’t during the literal end of the world and Bernard’s groaning appreciatively into his mouth as they both fuck up into him through their orgasms, as he rocks down onto the both of them, as they both come inside him–inside him–and all he can do is clench up tight and cling to them and be tight for them and–and– 

“Pet,” Tim rasps against his pulse, the hot puff of breath that comes with the word enough to make Kon moan louder than either of them, and takes a hand off his thigh to wrap around his cock again. Kon didn’t notice himself getting hard again. Didn’t notice if he ever actually went soft to begin with. 

Either way, it’s still only a stroke or two before he’s coming again, and Tim’s saying something to him, and Kon’s brain’s not there to hear it but his body listens and rides out its orgasm and slows its rocking hips under Tim’s hands, or maybe Bernard’s, or maybe both of theirs, and stops riding them and then just feels them both inside it as deep as they can get like this and almost sobs about it again. Everything’s buzzing and electric and Kon’s whole head feels like a cloud, or a thundercloud, feels all sparks and electricity and lightning and barely there at all, feels like the perfect stereo-thunder of the complementing heartbeats in his ears, and everything left of him’s gone all soft and all lit-up and all perfectly empty and all perfectly perfect. 

And then Tim wraps a hand under his jaw and tugs him back just enough to kiss, tight and certain and gentle, and everything else in the world just stops existing. 

There’s nothing else in the world at all. 

Bernard says something, maybe, and Tim definitely says something too, but Kon doesn’t understand a word of any of it. He doesn’t think he can. He’s just this melted, empty, electric buzz, and nothing else. There are hands on his back, he thinks, and arms wrapped around him, and he forgets when it happened but he’s just sort of . . . slumped forward against . . . something, he thinks, or maybe someone, and everything feels like so much, and everything feels so good, and his vision’s all blurry and his body feels as warm and lit-up and full as the sun makes it feel, and . . . 

And there’s nothing else he has to do or be, so he doesn’t, and he isn’t. 

“Fuck, that’s cute,” he thinks he hears, eventually, and thinks he hears a soft, affectionate little laugh too. There’s a hand in his hair, stroking and combing through it, and arms around him still. His eyes are closed, maybe, and his body feels heavy and loose in the best, best way and his head feels like it could just float away and drift off into the sky. He doesn’t remember how to open his eyes or lift his head or anything like that; doesn’t really remember how to move at all. 

It’s fine, he knows from some distant, different place. Tim would tell him how, if he needed him to do it. Of course he would. 

Kon thinks he maybe wants to cry again, maybe? Like . . . just a little bit. 

Or maybe a lot. 

He doesn’t really get it, because he feels really good. He feels so good he thinks he wants to cry about that, maybe. Or maybe something else, but just . . . it feels like it’s about that. 

But it feels like it’s about something else too. 

The hand in his hair strokes again, and Kon stops trying to think. It doesn’t matter, whatever he was thinking about. He’s just–here, right now. He’s here, and he feels good, and he was good, and that’s all. If anything else matters, Tim will tell him. 

Like–of course he will.

[christinesficrecs]

Heeyyyy!! I’m going on a month long work trip in a VERY small town with nothing to do besides work in January so I need to stock up on some fics. Can you rec some mate and/or soulmate fics that are over 50k please?? Or if any of your followers wanna throw some in the tags or replies that would be super cool too. I’m gonna need all the entertainment/help I can get. I’ve googled the shit out of this place and the surrounding area and it’s literally in the middle of nowhere.

Hey!! Are you coming to visit me? Because I def live in a rinky dink town where cash is king and everything is closed by 4 pm 😂

Apologies to the rest of my listeners because this post got LONG. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Hung The Moon by nrnyx | 85.6K | Explicit

Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.

Go Away, Scott by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere | 66.2K

After the incident at the warehouse, Stiles is fed up with Scott. He finds himself drawn into Derek’s pack and in the process, drawn to Derek himself.

With the Alpha Pack closing in, Derek needs to learn how to trust his pack and those around him. And who better to help him than Stiles?

Wanted by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions) | 88K | Mature

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek’s mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He’s doomed.

Thanks for Thumper, But I Prefer Cheeseburgers by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 58.3K

The wolf’s head whipped around so fast, Stiles felt like he was watching The Exorcist.

Stiles wondered if he could just stand still enough to make the wolf think he was a tree. A very bright red and jean-clad tree. He doubted it, but one could hope.

He knew it was a lost cause when the wolf turned fully, lips pulled back from its sharp teeth—so very sharp, good fucking Lord!—and began walking towards Stiles.

“I didn’t see anything!” Stiles shouted, both hands out in front of himself and sweat instantly breaking out across his skin. “I swear to you! I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t! I’ll keep this to myself, until the day I die! I promise! I promise!”

Lead You Home Again by GotTheSilver | 49.9K | Explicit

The first time Derek meets Stiles, the kid’s brown eyes are wide, and he’s staring up at him with a mischievous grin as he tugs at the arm of Derek’s first ever Batman figure like he’s trying to separate it from Batman’s body.

An alternate take on Teen Wolf, wherein Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, and things unfold from there.

Three Marks by sanam | 113.7K | Mature

“And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off— And suddenly it was done. Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt.”

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

A Match Unmade in Beacon Hills by KouriArashi | 47.8K

Derek met his soulmate Kate Argent when he was 15, and he’s tried for years to understand why his soulmate is so cruel to him. Then he meets Stiles Stilinski, who has no soulmate mark, an extremely rare phenomenon. Stiles thinks that he’s destined to be alone forever, but apparently fate has other plans…

Mating Moons by  skinsharpenedteeth (Gavinscotts) | 85.2K | Explicit

Stiles just wanted to get Derek’s attention. Derek had seemed so distracted as the full moon approached and Stiles was feeling pretty neglected as a friend. Next thing he knows, he’s magically bound to a cabin in the mountains with Derek all winter long and they have to figure out whether they want to be life mates?

With or Without You by KouriArashi | 62.5K

Derek thinks that the mating rituals are overly romanticized bullshit, but claiming a mate and defending them from challengers is something werewolves do, and his pack can’t afford to appear weak after the fire. Especially not when Deucalion and his friends are in town for the rituals. Enter Stiles Stilinski, who offers to let Derek claim him so he won’t be overrun at the ceremonies. Nothing goes as expected.

Bonds of Blood, Bonds of Family, Bonds of Love by TyReed | 44K

After being beaten up by a door, werewolf Stiles Stilinksi finds himself bonded to Derek Hale, of the Hale Noble Bloodline. For a scrawny, wimpy, Tainted Bloodline werewolf, Stiles runs away, embarrassed and humiliated as he worries about bringing shame to the Hale Family, and even more shame to himself. Because the Nobles and Tainted just don’t mix, never have, never will.

Except, things aren’t exactly what they seem.

With the help of the (meddling) Hale family, his adoptive (meddling) human parents John and Claudia Stilinksi, and one very persistent Alpha Derek Hale, Stiles might come to see himself as more than just the blood that runs through his veins, and open his heart to find the happiness, friends, pack, and the family that he’d always wanted.

A Letter From Mom by StilesIsMySpiritAnimal | 32.9K

After waking up at the age of 11 without any memories of his past Stiles spends eight years with his father in the tiny town of Shelter Cove, California. After his father’s death he receives a notice from a storage facility in some town called Beacon Hills. Stiles is confused and thinks the manager made a mistake until he finds a letter that should have been for his 18th birthday that his dad never gave him. It’s from his mother, who he has no memory of. Weirdly enough, her letter mentions Beacon Hills and some woman named Talia, who he’s supposed to trust. Confused and angry at his father, Stiles sets out for Beacon Hills anxious and determined to find out what his dad had been hiding from him all these years.

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by  isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 196.1K

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

Scrubbing Bubbles by  MargaretKire | 46K

Stiles thought it would be easy doing janitorial work for an office. At first, it really was. The job only took a few hours in the evenings and it helped pay for rent and college. Sure, Hale Industries took up an entire floor in one of the downtown financial buildings, but the place was new and easy to care for. He didn’t even have to spend much time cleaning the huge corner office, because the trash was nearly always empty and the office itself was spotless, like no one used it.

It was basically the perfect college job. At least, until the boss started staying late.

‘Till You Make It by standinginanicedress | 46K | Mature

“I’m saying – let’s fake it.”

Derek blinks at him. Hard. Stiles never knew that someone could physically make a blink look hard, but there Derek goes, slamming his lids together like he’s fucking exercising them. “Fake it.”

“Pretend, dumbass,” he backhands Derek lightly on his upper arm. “Pretend like we’re doing as well as our parents want us to and then they’ll be off our backs, right?”

“We don’t have to pretend anything, Stiles,” Derek says evenly, in a tone that suggests he’d much rather be yelling. “We’re literally soulmates.”

“That’s the beauty of it! It’s going to be so fucking easy. I can’t believe we never thought of this before,” he runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head in amazement, grinning from ear to ear. “Holy shit. I can’t believe I just solved all our problems for us, man.”

Deafening Silence by AndersonStorm | 61.1K

On everyone’s sixteenth birthday the first words their soulmate will ever speak to them appear on their body. These words, so it goes, were to bring you love, joy and hope for the future until the fateful day arrives where you will meet the person who would change your life. So what’s Stiles to do when his words are rude and hateful? Avoid love at all costs, or so he planned.

Safety in Silence by Survivah | 66.9K | Mature

It’s perfectly understandable. Even Derek wouldn’t want to be Derek’s soulmate.

And I Thought I Had Problems by zosofi | 60.1K | Explicit | dropbox

Werewolf!Stiles deals with nefarious soul-sucking witch spells, Scott’s inability to be a fully functioning adult, Danny’s incessant need to make everything about sex, and finding out that his mate is Derek Hale. Tuesdays suck.

What You Did to Us by loserchic | 52.1K | Explicit

In a world where alphas and omegas are born with the first name of their mates on their wrists, alpha Derek’s mate’s name comes in mysteriously late. Thinking his mate will never show up, Derek marries Kate and has a son. When his true mate, Stiles, enters the scene Derek attempts to divorce Kate to be with him. Stiles has known Derek is his mate since he was 11, but he’s not impressed by Derek’s plan at all. Stiles doesn’t want to be the other woman and Kate doesn’t want to let Derek go, but there is something about Stiles scent that makes Derek think he might not have long to figure this whole mess out…

[hisuiya]

hiii

could you possibly write boyfriend!kirishima hcs?

thank uu

hi! ofc i can :)

kirishima ejirou as your boyfriend ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

pairing. boyfriend!kirishima x gn!reader

content warnings. pure fluff, pda!

if you’re lucky enough to have kirishima as your boyfriend, best believe this man will treat you like royalty.

he’s so supportive and wholesome, never wasting an opportunity to tell you how awesome you are

his love language is definitely a mix of acts of service and words of affirmation, so expect lots of thoughtful gestures & compliments!

also he’s a big fan of physical touch & feels no shame whatsoever with pda

oh, you guys are walking side by side? his strong hand is already snaking its way into yours.

def the type to send you random texts throughout the day like “miss you sm!” or “thinking about u!”

he remembers the little things. did you mention that you thought the new restaurant down the street looked good? he’s already making reservations & surprising you!

being the best boyfriend ever is the manliest thing that a guy can do—so best believe kirishima makes it his civil duty to love you as much as possible.

insists on carrying heavy things for you even though you’re perfectly capable—it’s just chivalrous!

you better hope that nobody disrespects you while kirishima is around. his entire mood changes, and he wastes no time in standing up for you. nobody messes with his s/o and gets away with it.

either way, he brags about you to all of class 1-A, and he never passes the opportunity to talk about how pretty and cool and talented you are.

you guys have movie nights on friday where he’ll come over to your dorm and you guys cuddle up on the couch.

always lets you pick the movie, and will watch everything, even if it isn’t his favorite genre. just for you, he’ll pretend to like it!

you look over & he’s crying a little bit after a sad scene in which the main character sacrificed himself for his friends. “how manly!” he says, tears streaming down his cheeks. don’t worry, though. you pull him closer and kiss the tears away.

it’s moments like those where he’s truly so grateful to have you in his life.

the both of you just went out to eat for a date, and now you’re walking back to the dorms. but as soon as you stepped outside, it was so cold. don’t even need to ask—he’s already taking off his jacket and putting it around you.

you blush as he zips it up. “no way, you’re not freezing on my watch!” and he kisses your forehead.

if he’s cold, he’ll play it off. just a small price to pay for his lover!

loves randomly flexing his muscles and showing off how strong he is, and he’ll get adorably flustered when you compliment him.

definitely lets you hop on his back while he’s doing push ups for conditioning. doesn’t matter your weight, he gets through 100 push ups with no sweat!

surprises you with flowers spontaneously. “happy 219th day anniversary!” he’ll say as he hands you the prettiest bouquet of flowers you’ve ever seen. “but these flowers aren’t prettier than you!”

cuddling with him after a long day is the best. you guys will lay on his bed, and he’ll wrap the blanket around you guys, trapping you inside. you lay on top of him, your legs tangled in a mess and your arms around his neck. kirishima strong arms are wrapped around your frame, and he holds you close. “i love you so much, y/n.” he says, kissing your forehead.

you truly have the best boyfriend ever.

author’s notes. kirishima is literally the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. writing this was so sweet!!

hisuiya © 2024. please do not copy, plagarize, translate, or repost my works.

[girlbossagenda]

How to girlboss up in 2025 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

2024 is slowly but surely closing its doors to us, and 2025 is about to welcome us, you might have tried everything in your power to improve this year, but you might still feel far away from your goals or you simply have no sense of direction, through this post learn how you can upgrade yourself and get closer to becoming the best version of yourself this new year! And girlboss up your way to 2025!

୨୧ Review this past year ୨୧

Check your old new year resolutions, go trough your journal, watch how you progressed this year, one goal that you MUST have is learn from your mistakes and take accountability, this is the best way to build your self concept and confidence, owing to your mistakes without making it your fault.

୨୧ Vision board ୨୧

A classic, nothing beats a good vision board, sometimes you don't have specific goals in mind, having a visual reference can help you clar your mind, decide if you want a digital or physical vision board, check the next guides to see the different versions that you can create.

୨୧ Clean your socials ୨୧

Are you still following people that are not contributing in a positive way in your life, that influencer that posts only about her body? that Tiktok girl that became famous for just begin pretty? Do you still have pics of your ex, that friend that dragged you though hell or those school book pages? Time to clear up!

୨୧ Set your goals ୨୧

Now your mind is clearer, so how do you set new goals for this year? Write minimum 3 big goals that you want to accomplish, example: hit the gym, travel, get my money up, this will be the themes you'll be actively work in 2025, then make categories like: health, social, professional. Then make smaller general goals for the whole year for each of the categories, during the year each month you'll set monthly, weekly and daily goals, to keep track.

୨୧ Take action ୨୧

Your goals are nothing without you! One thing that I learned this year is that everything happens for a reason, if you end with a certain result, understand that you played a part in it, the rest just unfolded, so take things in your hands and direct your wishes towards the optimal ending.

Ciao bellissime!! Thank you for reading part 1 on how to glow up this 2025, I really hope this guide will help you archiving that mindset for 2025, it’s time to jump into this new journey, see you soon next year!!

xoxo

-𝓐

[loveandleases]

After quite a visit to urgent care, I was wondering who is fretting the most after Mc comes home from the hospital? Who tries to give them alone time? Who is hovering over like a mother, hen? Who has everything prepared and ready? Who is running to get whatever Mc asked for?

Ok, first off, are you okay?!

❤️ Cam – He will fret. You know the saying, “like a chicken with its head cut off”? That’s Cam. He’s constantly rushing around, making sure MC is comfortable and has everything they need. It’s one thing if he’s sick or hurt, but it’s something else entirely if MC is. Obviously, he won’t cook for MC—that would do more harm than good—but he’ll make sure to get some home-cooked meals from Em (that he can heat up in the microwave if needed).

Cam’s already clingy, so he’ll be just a bit more so when MC is sick, though he’ll also want to ensure they get plenty of rest. He’ll set up a spot for himself in a chair in the corner of the room—far enough that he thinks MC won’t get annoyed with his presence, but close enough to be there if they need him. (Of course, he’ll be in constant pout mode if MC mentions needing space, but he’ll respect it.)

💙G – A total mother hen. They will ensure that MC isn’t lifting a finger for anything. G has a comically large first aid kit and a medicine cabinet stocked with everything they think MC might need. While MC is resting, G takes care of everything else (plus makes sure MC gets a good, long nap). Food will be made fresh. By the end of it, MC will likely be tired of them, but G just wants to ensure they’re properly taken care of.

💚Kara – She isn’t the best when it comes to taking care of someone. Kara vividly remembers getting sick as a kid and how everyone fussed over her because she’s the baby of the family. Due to that she has the belief that people need space when they feel bad. She’ll put together a little care package for MC (complete with cookies she baked, despite refusing to believe she can’t bake good ones—it’s in everyone’s best interest if they’re tossed). She’ll also send over the family doctor a few times to make sure MC is okay, but otherwise, Kara will let MC relax and take it easy.

💛M – Oh, poor Mar is stressing. They've got a notepad full of notes of what the doctor had said. What MC needs, what they can and can't do. M still ends up making several trips to the pharmacy to grab everything they think MC might need.

They’re scatterbrained at the best of times, and this situation is no different. M ensures MC is well taken care of, with plenty of blankets, any necessary meds, and even a trashy movie to watch. For once, they refuse to work—honestly forgetting about some deadline and focusing entirely on MC. They even manage to get over three hours of sleep, which is a rarity for them. Regardless, M will keep on high alert until MC is fully better.

💜 Isaac – They're, but you’d never know it from how he masks it with humor and a flirty comment like, “You’re just trying to keep me around, aren’t you?” Still, Isaac can't help but hover, making sure MC has food (even if it’s takeout) and everything they need, while pretending it’s no big deal. Isaac isn’t one for overt emotional gestures early on , but they’ll do the small things—like leaving their favorite snacks or a blanket nearby—without drawing attention to it. Isaac will try to distract MC with jokes and funny movies, but deep down, seeing them vulnerable like this reminds them of losing their own mom. It leaves them feeling conflicted, somewhat guilty. Isaac will care for MC in their own way, even if he's terrified of getting too close.

🖤 Ardent – He’s on top of his game. Ardent will ensure that MC isn’t bothered by anyone, has a proper place to recuperate, and that the noise is kept to a minimum and the temperature just right. He’ll play it off like it’s problematic for him, but when he’s not looking, it’s easy to see the worry on his face. He’ll struggle with giving MC space while staying nearby when they need him. Ardent would even offer up his room for MC, letting Cam keep Cupid until MC is better. He tries to plan ahead and have everything MC might need. But if MC wants a specific type of candy that he doesn’t have, he’s gone in an instant. No room for discussion—just accept his help. (his niece will not let him live it down.)

[ctrl-alt-bucky]

♡ Release ♡

Simon Riley x Female Reader [Requested prompt!]

The team finally has time to rest after months of hard work. Pent up, you and Ghost find a good outlet for release— each other.

Heed the warning below! There isn't much kink to this one tbh, just a mild hint of public play. If you want a spicier fic, check out the last one I wrote in this mini series. Ao3 and everything is in the notes at the end.

Enjoy! ;)

Word count: 3,479 | Chapters: 1 | Tags: Fempov, missionary, slow build, risky

Long, sleepless nights weren't an uncommon occurrence for you. It wasn't often you got respite during times of high tensions and potential war. Echoes of gunfire tarnished your dreams; stains of blood penetrating your body bone-deep, even when it's scrubbed clean of any signs; a reminder that you were forever marked by death.

As for Simon, he knew the experience all too well.

Words were hardly exchanged, just knowing looks and observations. You tightly wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the edge of a couch in the common room, the digital clock mocking you with the ungodly hour. Simon, his tired eyes and partially masked face, standing by the counter waiting for the coffee pot to start bubbling.

It started a few months after you got assigned to taskforce 141. You piece together from Ghost's slow acceptance of your presence that he's done this a while now— snuck out of the barracks in the middle of the night to make coffee or simply sit in the silent, empty room. But it wasn't empty for long. You'd make it to the room after him, often times. At first, you wouldn't acknowledge him, assuming Simon wanted it that way. But then that turned into small nods of greeting, then to sharing a pot of coffee while you two leaned with your backs to the counter, and then, somewhere in the mix, a bond grew.

It wasn't an every night occurrence. While deployed, your relationship with him was business as usual, and when you weren't shipped off to God knows where— well, it took days to recover. Days spent alone and half-asleep in a dark room with stashed weapons for all of the ‘what ifs’ your mind could conjure.

Dark circles sag under your eyes, matching Simon's. The team had been stationed here for a week now, and it was only just tonight that you decided it wasn't worth tossing and turning until daybreak.

A steaming mug of weak coffee sits on the counter. You greet Simon with a barely-there smile of appreciation and wrap your hand around the ceramic curve, your fingers curling over the handle. It has a marines logo on the front, faded and stained from time. Amusing, to say the least.

Simon is sitting down at the small fold-up table with his own mug, the liquid half gone. Something about him seems… off. He's more jittery than usual, and that's not the caffeine speaking. His eyes bore into the tabletop, his eyebrows pulling together; tense. The lower half of his face is covered by a black mask, missing its iconic skull design. It makes it hard to tell what he's thinking or feeling. You suppose that's the point.

“Price mentioned an intel mission earlier. Looks pretty secure, if we can get it in time.” You murmur quietly, breaking the tense silence.

Ghost nods his head, but doesn't look up from the table. He makes a small “mmn” noise in agreement and you figure he's not talkative tonight. No big deal. He usually isn't one for talking during these late nights anyway. You usually aren't either, but you're worried. You can't help it.

Sipping from your mug, you approach the small couch facing away from the table. There's a small, old tv in front of it, balanced on top of four crates with a board laid across them. There isn't enough funding distribution for a tv stand or good mattresses, but there's an endless shipment of coffee to keep your team functioning. Go figures. You're not one to complain though; You're lucky you even get entertainment in this place.

The tv is set to low, playing a random movie from the 80’s. You spot a VHS tape in one of the crates and wonder who the hell brought that along for a set up like this. While the intro to a murder mystery plays, you hear footsteps behind you, and Simon appears in the corner of your eye.

His gaze is on the tv, reading the title screen that flashes in bright colors and a font that’s distinctly from that era. You shuffle over to provide more room, and he hesitates before taking a seat, one arm staying propped on a small couch cushion wedged into the corner. He's man-spreading, but you don't mention it. The way your knees just barely brush against each other— it's the closest you've gotten to him outside of the occasional encouraging pat on the shoulder before a mission.

It's been ages since you've last felt someone's touch.

You curl your legs in so that they're tucked underneath you, your cold hands keeping the mug steady. Simon’s watching you from the corner of his eyes. It makes your heartbeat quicken.

Fifteen minutes go by. When you next bring the mug to your lips, you realize it's empty, having disappeared while you idly drank and stared in the general direction of the tv. You couldn't bother paying attention right now.

"Do you need help?" You ask quietly.

Ghost looks at you. He blinks.

“You look jittery.”

“I’m not jittery.” Ghost grumbles.

You raise a brow and he lets out a defeated sigh and looks up at the ceiling. After a few moments of silence, he puffs out a soft breath, calm and controlled, and shakes his head like he’s shaking himself free of the endless turmoil bubbling inside his head.

“Whaddya have in mind?”

✩⋆---⭑✧⭑---⋆✩

It starts out with cards.

Poker; Cribbage; Go Fish. Ghost has an unfair advantage with poker because of the mask, but he refuses to take it off when you point it out to him, so he ends up switching the game before you two even start.

Holding your set of cards like a fan, you peer over them as Ghost stares at the tabletop with an intense look of concentration.

Slowly, he reaches for a card in his own little pile (you expected him to be neat with his own cards, but he’s not. It’s chaotic. Nevertheless, it suits him)— and he glances up at you, his voice gruff when he asks, “Any queens?”

You pretend to study your deck. You know you have none, but you still take your time. Something in you doesn’t want this to end; To go back to your bunks, exhausted and alone, and wait until the next time the universe grants you both a respite.

Sighing, you can’t help but smile as you finally answer, “Go fish.”

Ghost draws from the deck, but you reach your hand out before it’s fully across the table. The touch is electric, and it causes Ghost’s eyes to flick up to meet yours. You realize just how brown they are. A deep brown, with hints of hazel. They stand out amongst the black of his mask— even more so when he’s got black paint smudged around his sockets out on the battlefield. You never really noticed it until now. Goosebumps rise on your arms, hidden beneath the sleeves of your sweater.

You were meant to say something, anything, but you can’t find the words.

Ghost finds them for you.

“You’re bored.” He says it like a statement, not a question.

You nod, slowly.

Ghost makes a humming noise of agreement and nods too. Then he brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, his gaze idly watching your fingers slightly twitch. The air feels charged and heavy and tinged with uncertainty. You find it difficult to properly breathe, your chest tight and body tense; your mind a race of he’s touching me, he’s touching me and I can’t handle it, he’s touching me and I can’t remember the last time I felt this— have I ever felt this?— would it even matter?—

You haven’t a clue what’s going through Ghost’s head, but you can see that something is affecting him. His chest rises and falls faster, those broad shoulders taught with a newfound tension you hardly recognize. Preparing himself. Ghost isn’t like this unless he’s looking down the sights of his rifle. All poise and concentration, he tightens his grasp like he’s pulling a trigger and he’s dragging you out of nowhere, guiding your upper half across the short table under you’re leaned over and inches away from his face.

You say nothing. Hell, what could you say? Stop? Don’t?

You want this.

Fuck, you need this.

You use your free hand to tug his mask under his chin and you kiss him.

It’s firm yet hesitant, and your mind races with all the ways this could backfire. But Ghost is warm and his stubble is rough, scratching against your chin and lips as he leans into it, pressing into you as though he’s giving himself permission to allow this.

The kiss breaks when you run out of breath. You pant as you try to catch up, your eyes blinking open to find Ghost’s half-lidded gaze searching your face with a sense of desperation. Realization has set in: the floodgates have opened, and there’s no going back now.

You lead this time around, scooting yourself out of the shitty metal chair and rounding the table to him. Ghost stands, his eyes never leaving you once, and he’s tall and broad, towering over you, even as he bends his head down to meet your lips with a feverish kiss. You taste the coffee on his breath and the warmth from his tongue as it glides against yours clumsily. His hands grip your hips and suddenly you’re pulled upward like you weigh nothing and set down onto the tabletop with your legs spread. Ghost fits himself between your knees, his hands trailing down to grip your thighs, squeezing the flesh.

A rush of heat fills your body. You can feel a blush on your cheeks, heat prickling the back of your neck. The space between you and his chest is hot as well, practically radiating off of his body— the body that keeps you trapped against it with your legs locked and hands scrabbling at its shoulders; the body that’s firm and muscular and alive under your touch, reacting to each grind of your hips as you desperately rock against him.

“Fuck.” Ghost murmurs against your lips, low and breathy.

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes. You’re giddy with the feelings knotted inside your chest. This is happening. Holy shit. And you can’t come to terms with this, that’s it’s taken so long to happen. The tension wasn’t not there. Subtle glances and lingering looks were just the start, not to mention the jokes Soap, Gaz, and even Price made about you two— about how similar you were; quiet and brutal and deadly, two lone wolves watching their pack’s back.

Even so, Ghost has more resilience than this. You thought you had more— hell, if your self control was hanging by a thread during the last mission, then it’s practically been snapped now, and by your own two hands.

You’re tired of feeling tired. And Ghost is more than eager to quell the chaotic energy inside of you both.

His teeth catch your bottom lip as you tilt your head and grasp for the back of his neck. You flinch, the pain incredibly brief, and he makes a low groaning noise that sends a bolt of heat straight between your legs. Your thighs clench around him, and he soothes the nip with his tongue as an apology, but all it does is make you whine with need.

Lips tingling, you break the kiss to the sound of a zipper. Ghost bites his bottom lip and follows your eyes down to where your hips lay flush together. His boxers are exposed, belt flayed open, and he’s hard and he’s big too. Bigger than you anticipated— and you haven’t even properly seen it yet.

You slide a hand down his chest and palm the bulge with deft fingers. Ghost groans again, and it’s right then that you decide you want to hear more of that noise.

It takes some maneuvering, but your cargos find the floor in no time. The tabletop is cold against the backs of your thighs, but Ghost's hands are burning hot against your skin. His eyes remain between you, looking down at the (frankly embarrassing) pink panties you're wearing. There's a hint of amusement in Ghost's gaze, like he's tempted to make a comment on it, but instead he just presses his thumb to the front of the fabric and rubs, slow and precise.

For all of the training you've had— the long night's waiting hours in the cold for the perfect moment to strike; the torture that you stayed resilient through; the second-hand nature of your brain thinking logically over what you actually wanted— seemed to be all in vain in this one moment.

Whether it was a long time coming or not, you struggle to even stay still as Ghost’s thumb presses harder, seeking out the shaky breaths leaving your parted lips. It sinks even lower, to a forming wet patch on the thin fabric, and Ghost practically rumbles when he sees the evidence of your desperation.

He wastes no time in pulling the fabric to the side and adjusting your position, pulling your thighs up until you're resting on your lower back with your legs bent and bowed out. Ghost murmurs something that sounds like praise, but you're too caught up in the sound of your heartbeat thumping away in your ears.

First, it's just a finger that enters you. Ghost’s hand trembles so slightly you almost miss it, and he pumps the digit in and out a few times before eagerly adding another. You aren't quite prepared for it. The burn of a stretch would otherwise deter you, but now— now, all it does is drive you up the fucking wall.

“Ghost.” You whine, voice warbly.

Ghost curls his fingers and your head tips back, eyes squeezing shut.

“Simon—”

Now that causes Ghost to falter.

You open your eyes and glance down your body to see his reaction, afraid you might've crossed a line. If his eyes were any indicator, you have a feeling you just skirted the line. You also realize he shed his own cargos at some point and pulled down the hem of his briefs to his mid-thigh, exposing the long, hard curve of his cock. It reaches his navel, the tip wet and catching the dim sterile light of the room.

“Simon.” You repeat carefully.

Ghost pulls his fingers out, grabs under your hips, and drags you even closer to the edge of the table. You yelp, but it's no deterrent. He's feral in a way you've never seen— desperation and nerves and frustration all coiled into his determined expression, truly like a wild animal. It isn't often you get to see under the mask. What doesn't make sense is why he's letting you while he's vulnerable like this.

Your eyes meet as he lines up and rubs the tip against you, hot and slick.

And then he pushes in, and your eyes close once more as every feeling in your body narrows down to just this. This stretch, this heat— everything. The way Ghost’s chest vibrates as he groans, how he feels inside, thick and real; it's so much to handle, all you can do is lay back and try to catch your breath until he reaches the hilt.

Buried deep inside, Ghost grinds his hips and grunts when you whimper in response. His hands are gripping under your thighs, right below the bend of your knees, and he's using the contact as an anchor to drive himself in and out like he has no time to waste. And with how you've been treated lately, there really is no time to waste. God knows how late into the night it's gotten, but the thrill of what if—

And oh god. What if.

*What if someone comes in?*

The windows are foggy with condensation, the frames coated with dust and grime and who knows what; But you can see the beginnings of a washed yellow peeking through the thick trees outside, right past Ghost's shoulder. You catch a subtle reflection from the overhead light bouncing off the glass pane, transfixed by his rippling muscles as they bunch and strain while he practically pounds into you with all his might.

Arching your back, you dig your heels into his lower back and shudder when the angle changes, his cock brushing past the sensitive bundle of nerves buried inside of you. Ghost notices that you're distracted, but it's clear he doesn't know why. You can't tell if he's irritated by it or curious, but the worry doesn't stick around very long— he presses his thumb to your clit before you have the chance to regroup yourself, and that's all the stimulation it takes to stoke the fire burning in your gut. It's all you need to stop caring about the risk of you two getting caught. You both deserve this— surely, the team would understand.

You feel yourself pulse around Ghost's cock, an orgasm so treacherously close you can feel your thighs shaking with the force of its foundation.

They'd better understand.

You might die from this feeling. Forget the trenches, there's nothing that makes you shake, cry, and beg so easily.

“That's it,” Ghost grunts. The words, among the first he's spoken almost all night, prod at a part of your brain you thought was long shut down by now. And he keeps doing it, encouraging you with low, growly breaths and strained words; a mixture that makes your head spin— beyond the fact that you're nearly upside down with how high your back is arched, your temple nearly pressed to the tabletop.

Ghost bends over you to get a better hold, and then he's rapidly thrusting like a fucking rabbit, and oh God, you can feel it— it's too much, too quick and too overstimulating, but he doesn't stop, he doesn't slow down, and suddenly Ghost's hand is covering your mouth as you practically wail your release. It crashes over you like a tidal wave, all-encompassing and fueled by years of restraint.

Your pussy spasms around him, walls uncontrollably rippling, even fighting to push him back out. But Ghost only drives in deeper, and in one, two, three thrusts, he seats himself fully to the hilt and groans against the sweat-slick skin of your neck as a warm, dirty feeling floods your insides.

✩⋆---⭑✧⭑---⋆✩

It takes you a while to catch your breath. Ghost is right with you, propping himself up on his palms, hands on either side of your trembling body, as his cock pulses the last ropes of cum inside. He slowly pulls his hips back until there's a rush of hot liquid gushing out onto the tabletop.

Your thighs are a mess— hell, your whole body looks more run through than some of the exercise regimes you and the team are forced to do every couple of weeks. You definitely feel a lot sweatier, though the lack of mud, blood, and grime in general is a plus.

Your face burns with a sense of embarrassment as you look between your legs and notice the mess he left behind. Ghost's cock is still half-hard, but he carefully smears the tip along your inner thigh (and holy shit that imagery will never leave your mind from now on) and stuffs it back into his briefs, then zips up his jeans before adjusting the belt, each movement precise.

You half expect him to just leave you there, but Ghost's hands are gentle when they grab ahold of your arms and pull you up into a seated position. Knees bent, your legs hang off the table, feet a foot or so from the cold floor. Ghost says nothing as he quickly snags the blanket you dragged in from off the back of the couch and wraps it around your shoulders. He helps you shuffle side to side so you can adjust your panties until they're properly on again, and he even goes the full mile to help guide your feet into the pant legs of your cargos until they're on as well. Not like you can wear these again, considering how stained they'll be in the next few minutes.

“Feel better?”

It's the only thing you manage to come up with to break this weird, tense silence. Your voice is hoarse, but with a little more coffee, it'll repair itself in no time.

Ghost's eyes crinkle slightly, and something tells you that he's far more amused than the faux annoyed huff he gives to your little question. It eases the knot in your chest, and you can't help but smile as you help him adjust his face mask.

“Yes,” Ghost admits anyway, his fingers brushing yours gently, “Feelin’ better. Now come on, up you get. We've got some work to do.”

I'm so down bad chat. As soon as I finished writing this, I thought of a follow-up shower scene I might write next if y'all want it 🫣 Ao3 link is here! (I crosspost over there) Requests/prompts are currently: open! Thanks for reading :] And thank you Jax for the prompt!! ♡♡♡

[stxrslutrestored]

THE GIGGLES ALWAYS WORK

pairing; bsf!sarah x reader

summary; you’re anxious to let sarah eat you out, but luckily she knows of the perfect distraction that will allow you to relax and let her please you

content;  fingering, oral, sarah being a lil silly

authors note; none

sarah is your best friend. and you also fuck, it’s a little bit of a complicated dynamic, and you wouldn’t be lying if it didn’t make you a little bit apprehensive sometimes. 

sarah knows this, she knows you’re a lot less comfortable with the concept of completely platonic sex than she is. that’s fine, she’s told you many a time. it’s fine. 

even with this knowledge that everything is fine, you still sometimes need a little encouragement to come out of your shell when you’re having sex with her, but that’s also fine. in fact, she’s got relaxing you and distracting you down to an art.

you’re laying on her bed, wearing nothing but one of her oversized shirts that you like because it smells of her. she’s four fingers deep inside of your cunt while she talks your ear off. 

today she’s been trying to talk you into letting her eat you out, which you are absolutely not sure about. you’ve only just got comfortable with her hands. mouth is a whole new ordeal! you don’t know if you can handle it. 

“you’ll be fine!” she exclaims, “it’s just your nerves I promise. the moment you don’t think about it you’ll be so ready. I swear!” 

“I don’t know sarah,” you look up, voice slightly shaky due to the fact that you’re being quite skillfully fingered. “it’s just kind of a big thing isn’t it…” 

sarah chuckles, “not at all.” she tells you “it’s a tiny thing!” she chuckles “teeeeeny tiny! and you’ll love it. way better than fingers.”

you still feel hesitant, and she catches on, so she decides to pull out her ultimate stop. she pulls her fingers out and walks over to her desk, “I know what you need.” she says, and you realise what she’s going to do when she picks up the Bluetooth speaker. she’s going to dance. 

“sarah,” you groan, but you can’t help the smile that plays on your lips. this isn’t the first time she’s danced, she’s done it every time you haven’t been able to wrap your head around something, to distract you enough so that you feel relaxed and happy enough to try something new. irritatingly, it works. 

music starts to blare through the speakers, strong hippy beats sounding out. sarah starts to sway her hips, running her hands over her clothed body in an erotic way, except it doesn’t look erotic. it looks a bit silly actually. 

you can’t help but smile as she starts to approach you, stripping herself of the shirt and panties she was wearing, chucking them to some unknown place in the room without a single care. she’s giggling with you, throwing her arms and legs about in crazy ways. some would question if you could even call it dancing. 

despite how terrible it is, it does its intended job. it makes you laugh, and it makes you relax, and it makes you so comfortable that soon enough sarah is getting to her knees and effectively sticking her face between your legs.

you find yourself throwing your head back, bliss washing over you as you realise… oh yeah, that is good. sarah really does know how to make you do things.