#i ended up hitting the wall around 11 and had to tap out

[springsylph]

+18, mdni. uhhh tiny gaz x f! reader thing?? i don’t know. wrote this on my phone and she’s unedited. also. the ending is getting cut short because i said so.

mentions of alcohol, fingering, pussy slapping (1)

thinking about introverted reader showing up to a college party with every intention of leaving once that stupid hello kitty clock on the shelf hits 11:30.

it helps that you enter the apartment with your headphones already on; most people weren’t willing to put in the extra work to talk to someone so obviously prepped to leave.

you get there at 11:15—no earlier—because you’ve got a 15 minute routine when it comes to shit like this. show your face, hide, and leave before the drinking games get rowdy enough to warrant having the police bust their knuckles open on the front door.

granted, you really did try to stick this one out. your closest friend—who, apparently, was much closer to the organizer of this thing than she was to you—had dragged you along with her after as a show of goodwill. something about getting you out of the apartment long enough for people to know that you have tits.

which, in hindsight, should have been a warning. the split of a train whistle just before it veers off the tracks.

the living room, painted with bits of a fiery orange from some dodgy led lights, has begun to sting your eyes. you’re plastered to the corner in a top that isn’t yours, trying (and failing) to breathe air that’s too hot, too sticky, drenched in a mix of sweat and some idiot’s cheap cologne. the cup you hold only catches glimpses of the music, pulsating in time with the wall. it’s basically empty, but you hold it like it’s heavy. most of the people around you are already too inebriated to know the difference.

the crash comes when someone taps two fingers on your elbow.

“headphones at a party?”

your reaction is slow. when you turn, your first thought is that you’ve seen his face on a pack of men’s underwear somewhere. he must be thinking something similar, because he leans up against the wall like he’s in it for the long haul before sizing you up.

“i’ve seen you somewhere before, haven’t i? ‘round campus?”

you shrug to ward off the urge to shrink. “maybe,” you reply. “i don’t think my face is that memorable, but i appreciate the attempt at a pickup line.”

he smiles, then, like he does know you. brown eyes glowing like hot coals.

“not quite what i meant,” he says, “but i think you look plenty memorable.”

a squirmy feeling in your throat you thought you’d flattened a lifetime ago resurfaces. fuck—fuck. of course that isn’t what he meant. embarrassment is what begins to peel your sweaty back off the wall. you’ll have to apologize to your friend later, but the empty hallway is calling your name.

just as you’re about to excuse yourself, he slides a warm hand up to your shoulder, just a little too close to where it meets your neck. you shoot him a look, and he beams.

“loud in here, isn’t it?” he taps his ears. leans a little closer, even though the music isn’t that loud, and lowers his voice as if confessing some dirty secret. “truth is, i hate showing up to these things.”

your brows furrow. “…you do?”

he scoots a little closer, crowding you into the corner. “too many people i have to play nice with. the only reason i’m here is to make sure my roommates stay out of trouble.”

“oh. you—you live here?”

“unfortunately. but,” he divulges, “that also means i know the best hiding spots.” a decision is made—one final spark that sets the train ablaze. he slides an arm over your shoulders, thumb tracing absentmindedly over the strap of your top as his weight settles over you. “looking for some peace and quiet, right?”

you can’t tell if he’s being nice, or if he’s just a little weird. weird, only because he seems a little too perfect.

you have a tendency to resonate with weirdos. mostly to your detriment.

but—you’re not quite sure how you’d categorize this.

he’s got you sitting on his bed, back pressed to his chest with a hand shoved down the front of your underwear—no outside clothes on the bed, love—before you know what’s happening.

you gasp when the elbow he’s got hooked around your neck tips your chin up.

“kyle—”

“shh, shh. what’d i tell you, sweetheart?”

“f-focus, i—hck—know, but—”

he slaps a wet hand over your cunt, and your vision goes spotty. you’re not sure how long he’s been knuckle deep inside of you. between the grunting in the shell of your ear and the sound of your own arousal filling the small room, you’ve lost track of time.

kyle presses a firm kiss to the crown of your head before sliding two fingers back in.

“not so bad, is it?” he coos, allowing himself another kiss to your temple. “just needed a firm hand to keep you company, that’s all.”

he grinds the heel of his palm up against your clit, interrupting the lazy pace he’s set when you writhe against him. it doesn’t deter him like you thought it would, evident by the way his hand seems to pull your pelvis closer to where his cock has hardened in his boxers.

your hips jump when he curls his fingers over that spongy spot inside of you. mind fuzzy, ears ringing, you watch with him. entranced by the languid push and pull of his hand, the sight now blurry from the tears clumping your eyelashes together.

“no reason a pretty girl like you should be out here by herself,” he mutters. half to himself, maybe to you. he slides his sticky hand out, pulls the mess up to your bellybutton before plunging his fingers into your folds again. “fuck—and you feel divine—”

your walls tremble around him when the arm around your neck tightens ever so slightly.

“kyle, i—”

you what?

go on, tell him. he’s listening. there’s nobody here, except for the two of you.

“please let me cum, please please p-please—”

but kyle is in his own world, moves on his own time, with his own rules, and you’re under his jurisdiction.

you should know this by now.

he yanks his fingers out just as that cord in your belly has become nothing more than a thread before stuffing his digits into your open mouth.

he doesn’t have to tell you what to do. suck. but, as your tongue lolls out to swipe around his fingers, you catch his eye from over your shoulder.

you’re not too sure you know what you’re looking at.

[dual1pa]

prom

warnings: using she/her pronouns, lanugage, all around fluff, heavy makeouts in car

not really proofread

18+ ONLY Y’ALL

enjoy :)

All she thought about was prom. She’s been looking forward to the very special night since she was a freshman at Hawkins High.

She was more than halfway through her senior year and she was ready to graduate and get the hell out of that place. However, the only thing keeping her going: PROM

She already cut out several potential prom dresses in the paper and taped them to her bedroom wall to create a large collage and has it narrowed down to two. They were both equally as perfect, but she just couldn’t decide. 

Of course, she had the perfect boy in mind to be her prom date: Eddie Munson. However, he cringed at every prom poster he walked past in the hallways. 

He wasn’t the type of guy to “dress up.” A simple jean jacket and black pants would suffice his forever wardrobe.

She, of course, fell for him in the 10th grade. He sat next to her in English class. It wasn’t right, of course, but she let him look at her tests to help him pass the class — which he did. The two were complete opposites but clicked instantly. 

One night, she invited him over for a study session since her parents were away on business. One thing lead to another and they ended up making out all night on the couch. 

They’ve been happy ever since. 

Returning back to the now, she tapped her pencil on her neatly written history notes, waiting for that slow clock to finally hit 11:33 so she could see her boyfriend. 

Sure, they weren’t the most popular guys in school, but she really loved hanging out with his group of friends and learning all about Dungeons & Dragons.

She drowned Mr. Smith’s voice discussing the Revolutionary War ages ago. The thought of cramming more information into her brain gave her a migraine.

As soon as the bell rang, she quickly put her notebook and folder into her backpack and went to her locker to switch her books around for the second half of the school day. 

She put her three-number combination into the lock and opened it, admiring the photos she had in her locker — most of her and Eddie, but others of her friends and family. 

It wasn’t long before she felt arms wrap around her waist only to quickly be turned around and lightly pressed up against the locker beside her. 

Her beautiful brown-eyed boy was wearing his famous Hellfire Club t-shirt and his favorite jean jacket and pants. 

“Hi, angel,” he said, giving you a sweet kiss. 

“Hi, how was math?” 

“Fucking boring, as usual,” he sighed, “But I’m with you now and that’s all that matters.” 

She chuckled, “You really need to pass that final, Eds, If you’re not walking down that aisle with me, it’ll be the end for you.” 

“Speaking of... could you come over tonight and help me prepare for this test? I know I would fucking fail without your genius mind.” 

“Of course,” she smiled.

— 

At the end of the day, she grabbed the books that she needed for the weekend and met Eddie at his van where she was greeted with a passionate kiss. 

“Well, isn’t someone happy to see me,” she kissed him once more before throwing her bag in the back. 

“Before we leave, I have a question to ask you.” 

Her eyebrows raised, “Is it bad?” 

“What? No! Of course, not,” he reassured her. 

He gave her a large envelope, which she opened quickly. 

“I was wondering... uh.. would you like to go to prom with me?”

She squealed when she saw the physical tickets for “Hawkins High School Prom 1986.” 

She instantly wrapped her arms around Eddie’s neck and jumped into his arms. 

“Yes, yes. Of course I’ll go to prom with you. Oh my God!!” 

She pressed kisses along his lips, then over his cheeks, and then all around his face. 

“I’m sorry it’s not a big ask like I’ve seen others do but,” 

She interrupted him, “Stop that. I love it and I love you. Thank you for doing this for me.” 

“I want to because I love seeing you so happy.” 

_

Prom night came so fast. 

Thank God Hawkins High canceled classes for the day. 

She was up and awake early in the morning to start getting ready. Eddie begged her to sleep over the night before but she didn’t want him to see her or her dress before the big night.  

Throughout the day, she was so busy: she had a hair and nail appointment as well as getting her makeup done by her best friend, Rachel. 

She saved the best for last, putting on her dress. 

After weeks of deciding between those two dresses - she finally found the perfect one. 

Her mother helped her into the baby blue dress and zipped up the back.

“The love of your life is downstairs,” her sister, Elizabeth, said, “And he looks incredible.” 

She put on her white heels and took her time to walk down the stairs - holding on to the railing for dear life so she didn’t fall. 

Eddie was facing away from her until he heard her movements.  

He took one look at her and fell in love with her all over again.

She felt the same, he looked so handsome wearing a suit. 

He raced to the bottom of the stairs to help her with the final few steps. 

“You look... wow. You look so beautiful,” he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. 

Deep down, she knew that all he wanted to do was pick her up, twirl her around and kiss her all over. However, since they were in the company of her family, he kept it PG. 

After several pictures, Eddie finally got her out of the house and into his van.

While driving back to school, his hand intertwined with hers on her lap. He constantly told her how beautiful she was in her dress.

Sure, they’ve been going out for a while, but he’s never seen her so dressed up before — and vice versa. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off her man and how hot he looked while wearing something other than his normal attire.

As he abruptly parked the car as far away from the school as he could — can’t have those popular kids hitting his car. 

He ran over quickly to help her out of the car. 

As he was about to lead the way, she pulled his hand back to bring him up against her chest. She leaned up to quickly kiss his lips a few times. 

“I’m excited for tonight, and you really do look so handsome,” she kissed him once more before joining the other students making their way into the gym.

“I kinda only really wanna for a few songs tonight, then get outta here,” she said. 

“My God, you are the woman of my dreams,” he kissed her cheek and twirled her. 

Since none of Eddie’s friends “believed” in Prom, she saw her friends waving to her to go sit with him. 

“Wow, Eddie, nice to see you not in your typical uniform,” her friend, Rachel said — sort of joking. 

He turned around to give the table a full 360, “You all like?”

Hoots and hollers came from the table as she held her boyfriend close. 

“We’re gonna go dance.” 

“Behave, you two,” her other friend, Veronica stated. 

“Don’t we always?” she asked. 

“Never!” Veronica joked.

— 

What felt like forever, the band finally played a slow song. She was still out of breath from dancing. 

Eddie pulled her in by her waist and swayed back and forth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. 

Deep down, Eddie didn’t find prom as bad as he thought it was going to be. He had the girl of his dreams in his grasp and never wanted the moment to end.

Every now and then, she felt him place gentle kisses on her temple as he held her close — like he was afraid someone was going to take her away from him. 

This was the moment she was looking forward to since her freshman year – before she even knew Eddie. She wanted to slow dance with her first love while feeling safe in his arms. 

She lifted her head to look into his eyes.

“What do you say we get out of here?” she asked. 

“Honey, I’d never thought you’d ask,” he grabbed your hand and swerved through the crowd of people. 

The cool Indiana air hit them as they walked back to Eddie’s van hand in hand.

Luckily, prom wasn’t close to being over so they had a chance to leave before everyone else. 

He opened the door for her and quickly ran over to his side. 

“What do you wanna do now?” he asked. 

As he was speaking, she pulled her dress up so she could leap over into the drivers seat. 

“Woah, what,” he said, hands instantly grabbed her waist to balance her. 

His hand reached down to pull the seat all the way back and down for more space. 

She spent the next few moments attacking his mouth with kisses. 

“What’s all this about?” he asked. 

“You did something very nice for me tonight. You knew how much prom meant to me so you sucked it up and went along with it. Thank you, Eds.” 

“I love seeing my girl happy,” he smiled, reaching to pull her dress up so he could feel her ass. 

“My uncle isn’t home tonight, wanna get outta here?” 

“I don’t have a change of clothes,” she pouted. 

“Oh babe, you won’t need any clothes,” he smirked.

[skyfallslayer]

A Careful Whisper || Chapter 1

-AQP D1: Eric x Fem!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🔇Chapter Summary: You knew that this day was going to be full of risk and danger, but you didn’t think you’d be stumbling through New York with a hole in your side. All you needed to do was wait for the signal and everything should be okay. Everything… well… from the sound of it, you might be too late anyway.

🔇Pairings: Eric x Fem!Reader

🔇Rating: Mature

🔇Word Count: 3,077

🔇Date: 7/11/24

🔇Warnings: Reader Has Military Training; Reader Has a Potty Mouth; Death/Murdering; Talks of How to Unalive People; Reader Might Have Done This a lot In This Chapter; Gun Use; Assault; Fighting; Mention of Blood and Open Wound. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🔇A/N: Hot damn! It's finally here. A bit of trial and error here for this one. I hate when I have an idea of what I want and then you either A) have trouble writing it out, or B) start write it until a new and better idea forms and changes everything. Lol. Anyway, it's short, but enjoy!

The day was June 18th, 2020. How did you know this? Well… this was the day you were looking forward to. It was the day you were supposed to change everything, to make sure the inevitable doom didn’t destroy lives. But of course–

Your life went to shit. It always found a way to go to shit. The day had turned sour before you even could blink. And now–

You’re stumbling through the Big Apple with a huge wound on your side.

This whole situation was supposed to be easy, a quick pop in on your ally, a quick exchange that was supposed to be easy – not traumatizing and changing your plans immensely. You’re already feeling dazed and confused as you run out of your colleague’s apartment, a death grip on the laptop he left behind. You’re sure you can hear your attackers moving around and trying to find you.

No. They can’t find you. Not when you had something that could literally save billions of lives worldwide. They can’t stop you. They shouldn’t stop you. You don’t understand why they didn’t want this info to be public. Sure, maybe questions will be thrown around about them, but–

As you turned and were about to bolt down the stairs, you saw one of the men a few feet behind with his silencer trained on you. You duck and nearly throw yourself down the stairs as the casing jams itself into the wall. You pretty much just took as big of a step you could without falling to cut some of your run time down — while you listen to the echoes of the three footsteps above. As soon as your feet touched the floor on the last level you were out of the building in less than a second, blending into the everyday busy streets. 

You and your colleagues agreed to meet at the apartment for that very reason in case someone unwanted came along and wanted to end the party. Yet to be honest, you thought you guys would be out of the blue, safe in a busy city that could have a hundred witnesses at a time. But you were wrong, and now you’re struggling to get through the crowds without passing out. 

You heard the laptop, the ones that could fold in half like a tablet, beep and you glance down. An error message popped up on the screen making your curse.

Fuck. No. You nearly stumbled into a passerby-er upon reading it.

“Sorry.” You said, looking frantically around. The smell of freshly grilled hot dogs hits your nose, your stomach rumbling from the lack of eating for several days, but you push it aside and hide beside the food truck. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You start furiously tapping the screen, typing any code you could muster to get the error to disappear. “Come on, you piece of shit. Work.” You kept typing and typing, the screen beeping and returning to normal. You smile. “...Yes.”

“Hey!”

Your eyes snap up and you see one of the men storming towards you, bitterness on his rough features. With all your strength, and your deepest apologies, you grab and shoved the civilian next to you at the attacker before bolting. You duck through the crowd, occasionally looking back. Your heart was in your throat, dark spots danced through your vision, and your head was pounding.

Come on! Will this stupid thing finish uploading already?! You yelp in surprise as someone’s hand latched around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

“Hey, Baby.” The man said, grinning, and started pulling on you – there was also a lie resting on his very punch-able lips. “Why did you leave in such a hurry? We didn’t even finish our meal.”

You groan at the pressure, and how he starts tugging into an alleyway. You look around again, realizing how ‘normal’ this must look in a city like New York. He starts reaching for the laptop, and you shift your body away from his reach; Upon doing so, he starts applying more force, ready to snap your bone if necessary. You hissed through your teeth, trying to find some kind of an opening. 

“Come on, Lieutenant.” He urges, a deranged look in his discolored eye. “Comply.”

“Comply, my ass.” You spat, before headbutting him in the nose, temporarily stunning him.

You dodged the punch and the attempt to put you in a choke hold; You even managed to grab his own wrist and put him in some type of submission. When you finally see your opening, you push him gently forward while grabbing his gun off his belt, and proceed to shoot him once in the back of the kneecap. He falls flat with a cry, and your gaze looks out of the alleyway, checking to see if anyone heard or saw that (Shocker, nobody notices a thing in this city). You then made your way out of it when your coast was clear.

“L-Lieutenant!” He choked, trying to reach out for you. “You don’t know what you’re doing! Lieutenant!”

You ran back into the crowd, the silencer tucked underneath your jacket. You needed to get out of the city, but how? You look around, you see a taxi, an electric scooter, a subway sign.

A subway sign!

That’s perfect. You made your way down the stairs to the underground system, pulling your jacket closer to conceal the weapon – your ever oozing wound. You knew the subway lines pretty well, it was just the matter of getting on one that’ll take you far, or at least get on one that was already pulling into the station when you get there (You can’t really afford to wait around for one too long). 

But of course, your luck continues to be shitty as you hop over one of the turnstiles. You immediately feel the worker’s hand on your shoulder and you cuss mentally.

“Subway pass or ticket?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek before flashing up a smile. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.” You reply, trying to look and sound really genuine. “I-I lost track of time and I’m running late for work, completely forgetting my wallet.”

The woman’s face softens a smidge, but she doesn’t budge. “I’m sorry about that, but you still need a ticket or pass to get on.”

You sigh, sadly. “Can’t you let this slide once, please?” I mean, people jump these things all the time. Come on, Lady.

“I’m sorry–” She continues, and your eyes catch the two remaining men coming down the stairs. “But it’s policy. Or otherwise–”

“Hey!” You perk up with a giant grin. “What a coincidence!” You start pointing as they suddenly spot you. “That’s my boyfriend over there coming with his brother. Maybe he can pay for my ticket.”

“That’s your– HEY!!”

You’re already flying down another set of stairs when she shouts after you, and your attackers pick up the speed. The platforms were crowded, but that can only give you so much cover, especially since your ride wasn’t here yet. 

“Fuck…” You mumbled, and stole a peek from your laptop. The uploading sequence was almost complete, but god damn it! It was slow as hell. “For Christ’s sake.”

“Y/N!” One of your attackers yelled out, as he and his partner came down the steps as calm as cucumbers. “Sweetheart! Where you at?”

“Shit…” You know what they’re doing. They’re going to try to out you in public. Make people feel bad and accidentally out you. And it seemed to be working as you can faintly hear them describing you to someone what you look like.

You start hanging your head low and slouch your body. Alright, what can I do? If I get on the subway they might not be able to do anything with the amount of people… but what if they don’t care? This is New York. They could just shoot me blank in the head and scare civilians enough to blend into the crowd at the next stop.

You gnawed on the tip of your thumb. But what if I get on the subway and there’s hardly anyone? I’ll definitely be a dead man for sure so…

You heard someone mention what you’re wearing and took a peak, watching as a random civilian nodded at your attacker before gesturing your way. Jeez, thanks, man. 

What do you do? What do you do? What do you do? What do you do?!

You heard the intercom chime and announced the subway was pulling up from your right; So that’ll give you less than a minute for arrival time, and probably around the same time to load everyone up. That’s enough time for what you’re thinking about do–

You saw the men start stalking closer and you said a little prayer. This has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. 

That’s when you took a risk and jumped onto the tracks, heading to the left tunnel and booked it. You heard people shouting, and your attackers screaming your name and telling you not to do this. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought of what “backstory” they came up with to try to woo people over – probably told everyone you were his wife who forgot to take her meds this morning and is storming NYC in a crazy state. – Sounds like a story two out of three people would believe.

Despite your very vague idea where you were going, your plan was to run to the next platform, crawl out, get above ground and take a taxi out of the city. Or maybe, in the mince of panic you’re about to ensure, you can possibly sprint to your apartment in Central, get some stuff before you’ll have to go off the grid for betraying your country. Heck, the more you think about that, the more that’s probably compromised too. 

But first things first. Get this thing–

The wind was knocked out of you as soon as you tackled from behind. The laptop gets slammed onto the tracks by your weight before slipping out. The guy uses his size as an advantage to hold you down with his legs, and begins applying pressure to your neck with his hands. You make a gasping sound for air as your own try prying him away. Meanwhile, his partner picks up the device to examine it.

“How’s it coming?” The guy holding you down, asks.

“It’s at 96 percent.” His reply made you wheeze. You were so close. So close to finishing what you started. 

“96 percent?” His eyebrows shoot up before looking relatively cocky again. “Man, Lieutenant, I got to say you were one of our best hackers, so I guess I’m not surprised it’s almost complete in… hmm. How long have we been chasing you since Captain Reeds’ apartment?” His gaze catches his partners. “What’s your guess? 8 minutes? 10?”

“I’d say 10.”

“Yeah? Ten’s a good number.” He grins, creepily. “You did quite the number on Michael back in the alleyway. Didn’t think you–”

You managed to slip out your gun and press it under his chin, igniting the trigger. His body falls and you push it off you with a gasp of fresh air. Maybe you really should try to hide away in Hawaii before the world went to–

The other guy heaved you up from behind, an arm around your waist, a hand over your mouth. You start kicking the air and frantically wiggling your body. Your attacker was much taller than you, bulkier too – it was hard enough for you to try to use your gun on him ‘cause he was restricting your arm movement.

“Lieutenant, come on. Just listen.” He pressures, as you send him a nasty look before sinking your teeth into his palm. “Ow!” He removes his bleeding palm to wrap his arm around your head and press it against his shoulder. “Lieutenant–”

“Let me go!” You snarled, wiggling some more. “For fuck’s sake! You know I’m just trying to help!” Can’t these dummies see any kind of sense of what you’re doing? You’re not the bad guy here!

His moments slightly faltered. Slightly. But he still didn’t give in to your reasoning. “Sorry, Lieutenant.”

He starts shifting his stance, placing his hands in the position to snap your neck as you start pleading with him. Maybe… lady luck is going to be the one to pity you this time. ‘Cause now, lights were in your view and the rail line was shaking below you.

Like a deer in some headlights, your attacker froze at the sight. He mumbled something and his grip loosened enough for you to elbow him in the chin. You dodged his efforts to grab you again, swooping down to snag the laptop and run – the damn subway hot on your tail. The tunnel was coming up to a split, and you noticed which direction it was going in and headed for the clear side. But…

You had to deal with the other issue first. You still had the silencer you stole, not sure how much ammunition you had left, and part of you wants to risk it all and try to wing it. So when you whipped around to see he was a few steps behind you, you had to wait for the perfect moment to get him off guard. However, in that very moment, something was nagging you. What if there weren’t just three guys? What if there was more waiting for you somewhere around the city? Then what? Your hand-to-hand combat could only get you so far. 

You don’t know what you’re thinking, you almost felt guilty for taking out the man in this form of fashion; Yet when he got to be about an arm’s length away…

You plant a kick square in his chest and sent him into the passing subway car. Then…

You nearly collapse.

You let out a mixture of a sigh and a groan, your hand subconsciously touching your side. You felt like it was bleeding more now, but your adrenaline was so high and your body was a big ball of sweat, you could hardly tell. But you need to get it checked out soon, especially when the dark spots return to your (Y/E/C) orbs. 

Wonder if I do have time to go home? You lick your chap lips, thinking just as the device beeped. You pull it up into your view, the words illuminating your face making you smile like you won a prize.

You did it. 

You actually did it. You managed to get the words of the invasion out to every newsroom, radio station and any big social media platforms out there worldwide. 

You did it. You could almost cry, but you laughed with joy instead.  Andrea, Jose, Matt, Winston. We did it. You guys’ plan actually worked. Took a bit, but it all came together in the end. Now I really have to go off the grid.

But maybe you could help a few souls along the way, point them in the right direction, tell them what they have to do when the invaders come. You know as soon as the news station gets wind of it it’s going to be all over people’s phones and TVs. And when it comes to a place like NYC, you know despite the warning you sent of ‘Not Panicking’, there’s going to be panic. Maybe it’ll be a blessing in disguise for you, a crowd running wild in the streets maybe will give you enough coverage to run and hide.

It’s almost too good to be true. You managed to pull yourself up onto the platform at the next station, surely getting one or two looks, but whatever. You didn’t care. You could care less as you unplugged the USB from the laptop and tucking it away before discarding the device in a trash can. I’m going to head back home, address my wound, get new clothes and take anything that can help me along the way. I just hope nobody’s waiting in my living room for me.

You took the last step up and out from being underground, stopping at the top with a smile still on your face. Sucks that I’ll never get to– What?

It was like time itself had frozen, and you wonder if your dizzy head is causing this, but you suddenly saw that everyone in the city had stopped. Stopped. Stop their walking, their phone calls, their cars, their bikes – stop everything to…

Look up.

You felt the immediate fear and dread in your gut as you dared to see yourself. You swallow and stare into the bright blue sky. That’s when you saw the very thing you swore to stop – The thing came in the form of what people would think would be meteors, coming down so slowly in great balls of fire… great balls of death.

Your eyes widened as you took a step back in disbelief, nearly tripping down the stairs (You steady yourself on the railing). Everyone was so… quiet while watching. Even the birds didn’t chirp, even the dogs seemed too scared to even breathe. You were too, no doubt. 

No.

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no–

You had time. You had time. You were supposed to have time before they got here. Time to prepare everything and everyone. It wasn’t supposed to be this early, they– they–

You mentally slapped yourself. Pull yourself together, Y/N!

You knew what to do. You had training. You prepared yourself for this moment when it came. 

“They’re not meteorites!!” You screamed, getting most attention (Even though your throat burned and ached after being choked, you still had to try). “You need to move away! Hide! And stay quiet! These things are attracted to–”

You didn’t even get to finish your warning when one came crashing down just a few feet in front of you.

The impact was strong, strong enough to throw you and a few people backwards like you weighed nothing. You flew back down the stairs,

.

.

.

And that was the last thing you recall before hitting your head and blacking out.

(TBC)

A/N: Sorry it was a bit short. Consider it a teaser.

-Taglist Is Open-

@idontreallyexistyet @pantheracatluv1105 @tjohn63 @temptressofthetarrot @sunmoonstars666

[raenizza]

"Cybersex"

Synopsis: The reader finally gets the chance to Facetime Roman as he awaits her all alone on his tour bus.

Roman x Black OC reader, Roman x Black Reader

Word Count: 2522

Warnings: Masturbation? Curse words, wet slushy ushy gushy sounds, dick slapping on cam, edging

Author’s Note: Happy New Year!! And what better way to start the New Year off than with a little E-sex. Enjoy my loves.

Happy New Year!!! 

So you know what that means, it is the last smackdown of 2022. With this historic event at bay, you know exactly what is expected of your time spent with your man and that it is very limited. You have been patiently waiting for weeks now on end to see him.  Watching him on TV does not count entirely and cute little selfies don’t do enough justice. You want to see him, even though you can’t physically be there, seeing him interact with you one on one is something so special. For the past few weeks, Roman has only communicated with you only through phone calls, text, and voice messages. His busy schedule has been insane lately and you can barely keep up, but the good news is that he makes time for you. He always has and always will. No matter what it is, your man will always do his best to respond to every message or call as soon as possible even if it's a quick “baby I'm a little busy give me a sec”. You know that his attention will always be focused on you, hence you’re his number one priority and he made sure of that.

You stared gracefully at your 75-inch TV screen, which played the famous Netflix film, 365 DNI. Although you are not entirely interested in the movie as a whole, you decided to put something on as background noise in order to distract you for a while. You then glanced at the large clock on the wall checking the time. 10:55 p.m. “Ok I got 5 more minutes.” you said to yourself and you prepared for the Facetime call.

Propping the pillows up in front of you to hold your phone, you decided to get comfortable quickly sitting criss-cross on the bed. You had slid on one of Roman’s T-shirts matching it with Christmas-themed fuzzy socks.

Looking around the room, making sure it’s clean and organized. Which lead to everything being in place.

“10:59, wheww almost there.” you kept thinking to yourself. You and Roman agreed to Facetime around 11:00 p.m.It was better for both of you hence he’s got done with rehearsing for Smackdown and can have plenty of free time.

 “11:00 p.m. FINALLYY!!” you yelped out and went straight to the Contacts app, slid through your favorites, quickly tapped “Papí💖” and hit the ‘Facetime’ button. You waited patiently as the phone began to ring. Nervous as you are, you shift in a couple of different positions but looked awkward in each one so you just settled down a bit.

The phone finally answered in the middle of you twisting your back a little to the side. Roman opens up with a big smile on his face.

“HEY BABY!!” he screamed loudly on his end. You jumped out of excitement but also embarrassment. “HII BABYY!!” you responded quickly adjusting your posture back to an erect position.

“What are you doing?” he giggled.

“Nothing, just getting comfortable. Anyways, What’s up?? How you doing boo?” you asked quickly derailing the conversation.

“Just came from the arena and I am burned out,” he said in a stressed manner.

“Babe, my body is so sore. I need a deep massage, a hot bubble bath, and possibly 2 or 3 beers.” 

“Well when you come home, I can make all of your wishes come true,” you replied with a cheeky smile. He returned the favor. 

“Where are you by the way? Have you reached the Hotel?” 

“Oh no, I’m on the bus,” he said as he looked around lifting his camera up to make sure she can see it too.

“The bus? You mean RV?” you laughed. Roman rolled his eyes instantly knowing where this is headed. He knows you like to joke about that big ass house on wheels he calls a bus and his tiny obsession with being it all the time.

“First off, you not goin' come for my ride, this baby is expensive and cozy.” He replied jokingly as pats the armchair next to him. 

“Baby, that shit is literally a studio apartment on 4 wheels. I’m surprised you’re not carrying a mini garage with it.” 

“Yea, yea whatever.” He replied annoyingly.

“Speaking of the house on the road, where’s your little road buddies?” You asked looking all through the screen to see if you can catch a glimpse of the Twins or even Paul.

“Oh they…they not here yet. Still in the locker room getting a couple of stuff done.” He replied as laid back in the chair.

“So you have the place all to yourself?” you said with a cheeky smile. Glaring at him on that phone screen. You watched him seemingly adjust himself in his chair. Then you heard moans coming from the TV screen forgetting that you still had that porno of a movie playing. 

“What the hell are you watchin” he says as you try to quickly find the remote on the bed nearly falling over. “Nothin' its just this random movie I started playing.” 

“You mean PORN.” he giggled out as you found your position back on the bed. You couldn’t help but stop and watch the vulgar sex scene as Massimo continues fuck the absolute mess out of Laura. Watching the repeated sex scene got you so hot and bothered that you forgot that Roman was still on the call. 

“Babe,” he said interrupting you. You looked down at him with a smirk. “Hey, sorry. I …I think I have an idea,” you stated seductively. “Hold on where is this going?” he says in a warning tone.

“Well since you are all alone in that big ole bus of yours and I haven’t seen you what feels like ages I thought maybe you and I could finally have some fun.= tonight.”

You positioned your phone further away from the bed and started to slowly undress. “Y/N, I know you’re not-”

 “Hush, and let me do what I need to do.” Shutting him up instantly. 

You began taking off the oversized T-shirt, revealing your bare skin and black lace bra. You made direct eye contact with him as you massaged your breasts. Then, you worked way down your stomach to the top of your panty line. Roman watched your movements closely without uttering a word. 

Your hands reach the edge of your panties and you slowly pull them down. You watched him watch you for seconds, then abruptly stopping in your tracks.

“Hold on, Babe I forgot something,” you said as you got up with a cheeky smile teasing your man all the way. Roman rolled his eyes immediately

“Really,” he said annoyed with your playfulness.

“Yes really” you responded as you stood, awkwardly in front of your nightstand looking for your rose toy. 

After a couple of quick nips and nags, you finally found the super soaker 3000 and could not wait to show your man what that piece of machinery can do. “Yes,” You said as you carefully jumped back into the bed and going right back into position in front of your phone.

“Babe, what’s that?” Roman asked. “Don’t worry about it just watch me.” You told him immediately concentrating on him and also the movie that is still currently playing in the background. 

You proceeded to remove your bra and undergarments, showing your beautiful wet brown lips and round perky breasts. Roman began licking his own lips watching everything fall into place and at the very sight of your pearl, he immediately began to shift in his seat. Covered in sweet, clear, and thick juices you placed the rose toy at the very center of your pussy, looking back at Roman on your phone as you can see him slightly grow in his sweatpants.

 “You like me like this baby?” You asked him in a seductive tone. “Mmmh hmmm” he growled as a response, sending you into oblivion. 

Roman moved his phone to a stand nearby his chair. He quickly looked around the bus to make sure no one was coming in. He laid back into his recliner chair and unbuckled his pants pulling them a few inches down by his waist. His bright red Nike boxers slid down slightly showing his brown-tanned abdomen. You watched him undress as he watched you. 

Roman smirked at the thought of you applying more pressure on your folds, so to tease you some more he started to rub his crotch area. He started with the base, slowly rubbing his balls as he watched you put the toy directly over your clit. He growled once again, thinking about rubbing his balls against your folds and feeling all of your wetness. Roman then proceeds to work his way from his base to the very tip of his dick, stroking every inch through his boxers. 

You then placed the rose toy closer to the entrance of your pussy, feeling every bit of vibration coming in. Roman, see this and shifted his position once more as his dick began to poke out in his underwear. His warm precum starts to slowly pour out from his tip, he rubs it against his garments watching your hips buck at every movement from the vibrations. 

“Fuckkkk” he whispered under his breath as he grinds against his own movements. “Take them off, baby” you moaned to him. “Please.” Breathily, as you can’t withstand the rose toy’s motions. Roman follows suit and pulls down his underwear. His caramel-colored dick springs out freely, smacking against his abdomen. 

“You like this shit, huh?” He says as he smacks it against his hand. With no lube in sight, Roman then spits on his hand and started to stroke his dick slowly up and down. “Mmmmhhm, Fuck babe” He says watching you on his tiny screen. 

“So fuckin’ sexy.” He whispered between each stroke. Turning you on, even more, you upped the setting on the toy, matching his speed. You moaned a little louder than before as this speed on the rose shocked you. You felt a small warm feeling in your stomach, getting closer to your climax, you had to slow it down. 

“Shit!” You said trying not to come too quickly. You remove the toy away from you a bit, taking a second to catch your breath. He stopped his movements as well. “What? Can’t keep up, baby?” He says as he smirks at you trying to meet up with him. Roman knew exactly what he was doing. 

Roman positioned the camera closer to him, the light from the lamp on the stand showcased his full bottom half. His soft brown, tattooed skin illuminated in the dark. He looked so heavenly in the light. He pulled his pants all the way down and lifted up his shirt a bit showing his stomach. Roman continued on to stroking himself again and instead of spitting on his hand as he did before, he spat directly on his tip. But first try wasn’t enough to cover, so he did it once again, but this time he spat on it with less aggression. Allowing the saliva to slowly, drip from his mouth all the way down to his thick veiny dick  Doing so he without breaking any form of contact. 

“Mmmhhmm” he moaned as he watched the substance cover every inch of his penis. The slushy noises from his strokes echoed in his tour bus. Roman began to grind against his strokes, his hips bucking in the air with every moment. He began to close his eyes picturing himself fucking into you on the bed. 

You couldn’t help yourself but to place the rose toy back onto your clit following suit and matching his strokes. Fuck this was so hot you thought to yourself. Watching himself masutrabte in front of you was so sexy.

Once again, feeling yourself reaching your edge, you wanted to wait once more, edging yourself, but this time Roman wasn’t feeling it. “No, babygirl keep goin’,” he said as he saw you repeatedly move the toy way to catch yourself. 

“Keep it on there, I wanna watch you cum for me” He says as he strokes his dick even faster, reaching his own climax. You placed rose right back on your clit and began to grind against it, nearly seconds away from reaching your big ‘O’. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” Roman says in a heated breath. “Yes, Daddy.” You replied shakingly as you felt yourself release.

“Ooooooooouu shittt!!” You screamed out. Your fluids dripping all over your folds and making a giant wet spot on your bed. 

“Attagirl” Roman says in between moans.

Your legs began to shake as you watch Roman grinding into the air. You rolled your eyes back picturing him on top of you pounding your pussy into smithereens. God, that felt amazing, but it wasn’t over yet. 

“Fuckkkkkk!!!” You heard from the other side of the screen. You watched as Roman stood up from his chair jacked his dick right in from the camera making sure you are not missing anything. 

You tried to look away for a brief moment because you were getting yourself riled up again but he immediately took notice. “Uhn Uhn Look at me.” He says to you as he nears his climax. The sounds of his precum mixed with his personal lube gathered around his dick as he strokes it up and down, repeatedly fills the quietness in your bedroom. You continued to look directly at him as you feel the heartbeat in your pussy beginning to fasten. Roman pulled his phone closer to him to where his dick was practically touching the screen. 

“You want this nut baby?” He says breathlessly. “Yes.” You instantly replied to him. 

“Yea?” He says before releasing.”Shitt!!” He screamed out as he ropes of creamy white substance exploded everywhere. His dick pulsated with every drip of cum released from his dick. “Awwww fuckkkkkk” he moaned deeply. Roman, breathing heavily looked down at to his crotch era at the mess he made.

“Damn baby, look at what you did.” He said through a cheeky grin, showing his pearly whites. You watched him cum before, and every time it it’s a different experience. It was something so satisfying, watching him release himself in front of you and then looking back at the damage that he’d caused. 

You giggles at his response and then started to get up to put your little flower gadget away. Roman picked up a paper towel nearby and cleaned up his own mess quickly as he looked at the time. “Damn, it’s already midnight.” He said sliding back on his pants and sitting right back into his chair. 

“Alright baby, I know you have to go..” you began to trail off, not wanting to keep him.

 “No it’s ok baby, we can chat for a little longer, I don’t think anyone is coming in for a while.” He responded shortly after.

“Are you sure? ” 

“Yes, now tell me, how was your day?” He asked with the biggest grin.

“Well, it was great.”

[sachiko6243]

The good old Doc - Part 11

Missed the start? No problem, here is the first part, the following ones are always linked at the end, so you dont have to search endlessly. 😉

Summary: Lieutenant Lilith Adams enlisted back in the military, only to be met with a certain cocky pilot. Overcoming certain past traumas, she tries to fit in with the team of pilots as their personal medic. Soon finding her stuck between a certain good looking aviator and her work morals.

This is a series which is currently in the making, so I don’t exactly know how long it is going to be. 😊

Word count: 2812

Warnings: Smut without much plot, dom! Jake, aftercare

Minors DNI !!!

“Call me Lieutenant again.” He groaned; eyes halfway closed.

“Lieutenant.” I whispered, pushing up my hips, inviting him in. “Please, Jakey… I need you. I want you.” His nickname seemed to snap him back to reality. Because as soon as I called out for him, his eyes were back on me. He let go of my arms, bracing himself on one hand, while he guided his cock through my folds. I could feel his tip rush against my clit, immediately jerking towards the pleasure. “You ready?” He asked, still a little worried from my outburst a few minutes ago. I nodded eagerly. “Yes, please fuck me.”

With his jaw clenched he sank into me. Slowly inching himself into my cunt. The stretch was marvelous. Stinging with just the right amount of pain, that had me yelping and holding onto Jake. Instantly he stopped his movements. “I am sorry darlin. Just relax. Take it slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”

I winced, clawing into his shoulder. “How much…?”

“Just a little bit, baby girl.” He answered through gritted teeth. My spasming walls clearly having an effect on him. I was so thankful for this moment, where he took his time, waited for me. Something I had never experienced before. My exes would bottom out in one push, some of them not even waiting for me to adjust to that. But Jake was different. He obviously cared for my pleasure and that’s what had me fully relax into his body.

He smiled, when he felt it. My pussy was still hugging him tightly, but I wasn’t clenching around him like before. Easing in the last bit, he bottomed out. Smothering my face with kisses, while murmuring sweet praises into my ear: “You did so good, darlin. Taking me so well. Thank you, baby.” He stayed like that, until I tapped him and encouraged him to move. And when he did, I swore, I was in heaven. His thick length gliding through my wetness, stretching my walls and hitting my sweet spot deep inside me.

My head fell back in pleasure, eyes snapping shut. He was everywhere. His parfum mixing with the musky scent of sex. All I could think about was him. “Jake…” I breathed, hands blindly searching for him.

“I am here, darlin. Right here.” He whispered next to my ear, fingers interlacing with mine, pinning them above my head. “Open your eyes. I wanna see you.” My eyes flew open, adjusting to the bright living room light. Blond hair reflecting golden. “There you are. God, you are so beautiful. So good…” He rasped, keeping the slow steady pace he was fucking me with going. I whimpered, hooking my legs around his waist. “I need more, Jake… please… give me more.”

“I don’t know, if that’s a good idea…” He confessed, closing his eyes. “I don’t want to scare you, or hurt you.”

“You wont scare me off. Please Jake. I want you to be rough.” I whined, arching against him. “Please. Fuck me like you own me. Show me what its like to be your girl.”

Gritting his teeth, he moaned, stilling his movements. “Are you absolutely sure about that?” I just nodded, eager for what was about to come. “Tap me twice if you want to stop, or say red, okay?” He demanded, locking eyes with me in a way, that didn’t leave room for any contradiction. “Repeat, what I said.” He ordered, slowly slipping into a more domineering attitude. “Tap twice or say red to stop.” I whispered. My body was vibrating against his, eyes gleaming with lustful anticipation.

Jake took a deep breath, a smirk now rolling over his features. “You want me to be rough, baby girl? Want me to fuck you like I own you?” His sharp voice had me reeling with lust, hips grinding against him, desperate for friction. He tsked at my movement. “Such a needy little thing you are… Begging me to rail you. Tell me, darlin. Does this turn you on?” I whined at his words, which made him chuckle even more. “Oh, sure as hell it does. And yet I always thought you were such a sweet innocent girl.” The first thrust was hard and fast, me yelping at the new feeling. The surprise was soon knocked out of my head, when Jake started rutting into me with an unforgiving pace. “I am going to fuck you, until you cant walk for the next days. You will feel everything I did with every movement of your body.” Hitting the sweet spot inside me with such accuracy accentuating every word he says.

I could feel, how I grew wetter at his harsh demeanor. Slick now spreading around my thighs, making lush noises. Jake switch his two hands holding me down to one hand pinning both my wrists above my head, the free hand now sneaking over my body. “This belongs to me, you understand? I am the only one who gets to touch you, fuck you, see you like this. You are mine.” I wasn’t sure if he was speaking to me, or to himself, but what he was saying went straight to my core, making me clench down on his cock. “I want to mark you for everyone to see. Will you let me do that?” His voice was strained, desperate even. The way he begged for my consent, checking in on me every now and then, made me trust him to a point, where I wouldn’t think twice about what he was saying. “Yes, you can do it. Mark me. Make me yours.” I cried out, melting into his hand.

“Tell me, when its to much, okey?” He asked, bending down further, until his lips were on my neck.

“You are never to much.” I whispered, my voice turning into a moan, when his sucked my skin between his lips, nuzzling on it, soothing the pain his bite caused. My body was now burning with anticipation, another orgasm building deep inside my core. “Don’t stop, Jake. Please… It feels so good.”

He hissed at my words, reattaching his lips all over my neck, my chest, my breasts. I was sure I would be littered with purple bruises for days, but I didn’t care. It felt way to good to deny myself the pleasure he was giving. I struggled against his grip, desperate to touch him, hold him close against me. “Please… Let me touch you.” I whimpered, arching my back against his chest. He let go of my arms, steadying himself against the sofa cushions. Instantly I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down flat to my body. His chest hair teasingly tickling my erect nipples.

“I want you to choke me.” I whispered in his ear. His thrusts falter, nearly stopping. “What?” His mouth was hanging open, shock written over his face.

“Choke me.” I repeated. “And I don’t mean just holding my throat. I want you to grab it while fucking me. Will you do that?” I asked nervously, searching his face for any signs of discomfort. Jake let a hand run over his features. “Fuck… Fuck yes.” He rasped. “If its too much, just tap me, okey?”

I nodded. “Okey.”

His hand moved to my neck, rubbing along the collarbone, fingers wandering over my chin, before he wrapped it around my throat. Locking eyes with me, he squeezed the sides of my neck, upping his thrusts once again. The blood started thumping in my ears, when he squeezed tighter, heat rushing to my core.

“Relax, darlin.” He whispered in my ear, loosening his grip for me to take a little breath. “You look so wonderful with my hand around your neck. Such a good little girl.”

I was now twitching around him uncontrollably, my orgasm approaching in big fast steps. He grinned, when he felt my walls stutter around his length. Not stopping his thrusts, he granted me another breath, eyes glimmering with possessive desire. “When you come, darlin, you are going to scream my name so loud your neighbors will know who is fucking you this good, you hear me?”

“Yes…” I groaned, struggling the words against his hand.

“Yes what?” He growled, shaking my head slightly.

“Yes, Lieutenant.” I whined. “Please… I am close… Jake…” I cried out for him. He took his hand from my neck, leaning back on his ankles, raising my hip to fuck deeper into me. “Louder!” He commanded.

“Jake!” I screamed his name, letting the feeling overtake my body. I could feel myself spasming around him, hips bucking against his hold, back arching in the air. The coil in my stomach snapping hard, ripping me apart in the most blissful way possible. He stopped thrusting into me, keeping his cock buried deep inside of me, rolling his hips. I whimper as his lower stomach rubs against my clit, massaging it the most intimate way I could imagine.

“I want you on all fours, darlin. Have you on your knees for me.” His low groan sent shivers down my spine, walls involuntary twitching at the thought of him railing me from behind. He read my silence just right. Pulling out and getting up from the couch. “Turn around. Hands on the backrest. Ass up to me.” He ordered, staring me down like his prey. I scrambled to my knees, bending into the position he wanted me in.

Jake pushed his tip inside me, stretching me once again. I was still dripping wet from my previous orgasm, giving him no resistance. Trying to get more of him, I pushed back, but he held my hips steady. “Uh uh. You take, what I give you, little girl.”

“Jake…” I let out a whine, receiving a slap on my ass, that had me moaning.

“You like that?” He chuckled. “You like being fucked like a little slut by me?” Giving me another inch, still going torturously slow. Nodding I grabbed the cushions under my hands harder, angerly crying out, when he pulled back. “Then count me in.” His tip was teasing my entrance, when his hand connected again with my ass.

“One.” The tip entered me.

“Two.” Another inch slid into me.

“Three.” I whined, his slaps starting to burn on my skin. “Good girl. Taking me so well.” He whispered, gliding into me with another inch. He bent over me, pressing soft kisses between my shoulder blades and I melted under his touch and praises.

The fourth slap and inch had me moaning again. The pain finally subsiding into pleasure. “Oh fuck…” I whimpered as his cock rubed my walls just the right way, keeping me on the edge of ecstasy. "God, Lilith... You were made for my cock. I am only half way in and yet you grip me so good I am about to come.”

My eyes rolled back as he kept pushing in, accompanied by another four slaps. Eight hits. Eight inches. The last number not far away from a scream, as I felt him deep inside me. He grunted: “There you are…” Wrapping his hand around my hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail. He pulled me up, until I was pressed against his chest. My ass burning every time he pounded into me. “My naughty little girl.”

“Yes, Lieutenant. Just for you.” My mouth spoke before I was even able to comprehend what I was saying. He slid his free arm around my waist, holding me up, while he fucked me. And I could feel the tip of his cock pressed against my cervix, brushing over my sweet spot every time he pulled out or dove back in. I cried out in pleasure, bucking and twitching in his arms, when I felt the tension building again.

Jakes mouth was all over my neck, biting me, kissing me, soothing his marks with his tongue. “Fuck, darlin… You feel so good. So perfect for me.” His breath ran down my body, goosebumps forming in its path. The hand holding me up, snuck down, fingers pressed against my aching clit, but he wasn’t moving them. “I will fill you up with my cum, so much it will be running down your thighs when I am finished.” A first circle around my clit, taunting me. “You will make a mess on my fucked out cock, while I hold you in my arms.” I squirmed at his words, shivering with anticipation in his arms. He tucked me even closer, to the point, where my mushed brain was unable to tell where he began and I ended. I could feel every movement of his muscles, every breath he took, teeth that clawed on my skin. It was marvelous.

Ecstasy settling in my core like a fussy little blanket. My vision starting to flicker with black spots as his hand once again wandered from my hair to my throat, squeezing it in the process. Hot waves of pleasure washing through my body, shoving me towards my edge. “Jake… I’m gonna come… I cant hold it back… please…” I whimpered, reveling in the feeling of my upcoming orgasm. It felt different from the last two, an intense pressure building up deep in my core. “Hold it!” He growled. Thrust faltering and cock twitching deep inside me. He was close, I could feel it and I bit back a cry. Tears started springing from my eyes, as I fought back against my orgasm. I wanted to be a good girl for him. I wanted to do what he told me to.

His breathing was rigid and out of rhythm as he dove into me with such force, I swore he would have broken the headboard of my bed if we would have made it this far. I could feel his abs tightening as he held me closer, right before he stilled his hips, cock pressed deep inside me. He hissed, a loud growl rumbling through his chest, as he shot his cum down my pussy, painting my walls white in hot seed. Then he started to slowly grind against me, the fingers on my clit moving again.

The pressure in my core was nearly unbearable hot. My moans changing into loud filthy screams of his name and other incoherent words. And than it happened. It felt like a tsunami crashing the coast, as my orgasm washed over me. I couldn't help it, vision blurry and legs shaking underneath me, I collapsed into his arms. He held me upright, taking his fingers from my sensitive pearl, when I clawed into his arm. His hips still rolling against me, cock working against the spasms of my walls. My pussy clamped tightly around him, contracting and milking him of every last drop of his cum. This orgasm hit me harder, than I had ever come before, leaving me breathless and panting in his arms, to weak to even make a sound. My brain was still trying to figure out what just happened, only taking in his praises through thick cotton. “Relax, baby. I got you. You did so well for me. Such a beautiful little girl.”

Slowly he pulled out of me, hands not leaving my body, as he guided me to lay down on the sofa. I could feel our mixed juices dripping out of my core, slicking my thighs with sticky fluid. Jake kneeled next to me, stroking and kissing my face lovingly. “Do you think, you are able to walk up the stairs and get a bath?” I thought about it a moment. “I don’t know.” That had him chuckling against my cheek. Helping me to my feet, he guided me up the stairs, nearly taking all my weight. He sat me down on the edge of the bathtub, filling it with water, always checking the temperature with his arm. When he was satisfied, he turned to me again. “Do you need anything? Food, water, a stuffed animal?”

“Water and some sugar. I dont know maybe a snack bar or something like that.” I rasped, gripping tightly onto the counter to not fall over. Then his words fully set into my brain. “A stuffed animal? Why would I want that?” He shrugged his shoulders, stroking my hair, when he got up. “I don’t know. Some women wanted it, after I was done with them.”

I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You did that to more women?” Now he was holding back a laughter. “God, Lilith. You are too innocent for the world.”

“Am not.” I retorted, pushing his hand away.

“Look, maybe that’s not the best moment to have that conversation, but I promise as soon as we get your head clear and your system fully running again, I will answer every of your questions, okey?” He asked.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Then he was out the door and down the stairs hunting after what I asked for.

[talltoontales]

High Rolling Spider-Man: Rushed

Prompt: This week kicked my $h1t in, and I forgot to write a story. You know who that reminds me of?

Prompt By: Me (ToonMan)

Started Writing: 06/22/2024 at 11:29 pm (Good Lord!)

|| || || || || || || || || ||

Two women, one brunette and one ginger, stand on the side of the road outside a busy restaurant. Surrounded by excited chatter, the ginger woman steps away from the crowd, pulling her phone out of her purse.

// // // // // // // // // //

Across town, Spider-Man flies back-first into the side of a parked car. Across the street, a man in a brown and yellow jumpsuit armed with metal gauntlets and a matching belt walks toward Spider-Man. Spidey starts pulling himself from the side of the car only to get hit in the chest with a blue ray fired from the thug's gauntlets.

“Oh no, don’t get up,” says the man, “I’ll make this nice and quick for ya. Won’t feel a thing!” The man fires another blast, but Spider-Man pulls himself from the car, flipping over it and using it as cover.

“Come on, Herman!” says Spider-Man. “Don’t you have anything better to do than take potshots at me?”

“Well, normally I’d be at work right now,” says Herman as he fidgets with the dials on his gauntlets, “but it turns out someone got the place shut down!” Spider-Man leaps upward onto a wall right as Herman fires a massive blast at the car, causing it to explode.

“Hey! I didn’t know you worked there,” says Spider-Man. “Besides, I did you a favor. You just got on parole. The last thing you needed was your parole officer finding out you were doing guard work for a known pimp!”

“An alleged pimp,” yells Herman, firing another blast at Spider-Man. “And it doesn’t matter anyway! He was the only one who would hire me in this stupid city, and without a job, I’m screwed either way!” Spider-Man dodges several blasts from Herman when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He taps on the earpiece inside his mask.

“Who’s calling, and can I call you back?” asks Spider-Man.

“Peter! Where are you!?” asks the ginger woman.

“Heeeey, Angi,” whispers Spider-Man. “Don’t sweat it. I am on my way as we speak.”

“As Peter or as Spider-Man?” asks Angelica.

“Uhhh. One sec,” says Spider-Man. “Hey, Herman, do you mind if we pick this up later? I got something I gotta take care of.”

“Are you serious!?” says Angelica & Herman in unison.

“You think you can ruin my life and just brush me off like I’m nothing!?” demands Herman.

“No, I didn’t mean it like—” Spider-Man leaps over another blast only to get knocked higher into the air by a second blast. Herman proceeds to juggle Spider-Man in the air.

“No suit,” says Angelica, “that was the deal. I set you up with Betty, and for one night, Spider-Man does not exist. Do you have any idea how much I had to talk her into this?”

“Seriously, can I call you back?” asks Spider-Man, “Besides, you make it sound like I’m not that great of a person,” groaned Spider-Man.

“You’re not,” says Angelica and Herman, again.

“Look, I’m on my way. Ten—” Herman lets Spider-Man faceplant onto the ground. “…fifteen minutes tops. Just tell her I…uh…you know what, users’ choice."

“Who could have seen that coming?” mocks Angelica. “Once again, I have to salvage the remains of your social life.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, shocker, I know,” says Spider-Man.

“What did you just call me?” demands Herman. Spider-Man looks up to see Herman standing over him.

“Oh crap,” says Spider-Man.

\\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\

Angelica winces as Spider-Man screams into the phone before cutting off. She sighs as she regains her composer.

“He’s not coming, is he?” Angelica turns around to see Betty standing behind her.

“No, he’s coming. He just got caught up in work,” says Angelica, “lost track of time.”

“Look, I appreciate what you’re doing for me," says Betty, “but I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“No, Betty, come on,” says Angelica, “I promise, Peter’s coming, and by the end of the night, you’re gonna be thanking me ten times over for getting you out of that stuffy apartment.”

“He’s that amazing, huh?” asks Betty.

“I wouldn’t say he’s amazing,” says Angelica, “but he has his moments. Plus, would I drag you all the way here for a subpar night?” Betty rolls her eyes. “Exactly! Look, you don’t have to believe in him, but believe in me who believes in him.” Betty snickers, leading the two girls into laughing together.

“Alright, fine,” says Betty, “I guess I can hang out for a few more minutes.”

“Thank you,” says Angelica. “And who knows, Pete might shock the both of us…”

. . . . . . . . . .

(Holy crap, that was close!)

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story! If you have any comments, critiques, or criticisms, please don't be afraid to let me hear 'em (as long as they're constructive (or comical)). Also, if you have some spare time, check out my blog for more stories like the one above. Stay safe, drink plenty of water, and be kind to yourself and others. ToonMan, AWAY!

[No joke, this week rocked me like I owed it money. Still working on week one's story, and for better or worse, it's getting posted before the end of the week. See ya then.]

[wmasscd]

Hands free

Enema... duh!

2. Refrain from Cumming a few days.

3. Relax and tell yourself this is gonna feel good and be fun no matter what happens...

3a. Have some urine in your bladder so you have to pee just a little. (not necessary when you can already do this, but it helps the first few times).

4. Insert dildo as far as it goes and just hold it there for a full 1-2 minutes.

5. Start fucking your ass as you normally would for a few minutes.

6. Now angle that dong so it aims at your belly button and in past the prostate, on top of it actually, where the Seminal Vesicles are.

7. When you tap that spot with the dong, it may feel like you have to pee, or it feels sort of cool/cold, it's a different feeling than when poking or rubbing the prostate.

8. Once you find the spot that makes you feel like you have to pee, especially when you hit it, stay there and keep that feeling going, even though the natural response is to relieve that feeling, or move around to avoid it, or minimize it, just feel it and feel it and feel it...

9. Thrust in quickly, whether a fast or slower rhythm is fine, try both, but when the dildo goes in, it should be fast, that will really help with making that, "have to pee" feeling.

10. Keep thrusting, the build up is slow and the pee feeling gets sort of uncomfortable, but don't stop it, it doesn't hurt.

11. At some point that pee feeling changes and the urge to stroke will be strong, just keep thrusting that dildo... The urge to quit, move to a different position, stroke it, of fuck yourself differently will get very strong, just keep thrusting...

12. When it feels like you don't have to pee anymore and transforms into the beginning of an orgasm, don't stop, it builds very slowly, just keep at it, cause, if you can stand it, it will build up intensity well past any penile orgasm you've had, maybe for minutes, but don't stop thrusting.

13. You may feel fluid moving through your dick unlike normal, that's the last thing and as you pump out that fluid, the real thing happens and probably so intense you'll cry out loud, or at least moan out loud.

14. If you are like me, this orgasm doesn't end abruptly like penile orgasms do, so, enjoy the minute after the peak also (still thrusting or not is just a preference at this point)

A few more notes for when a partner is trying to give you an anal O.

It almost feels like cold water in the area when it gets pounded.

1.have some piss in the bladder

2. If receiver is laying on their back, then the giver is between legs at same level, or a bit lower, so the thrusts are upward into the forward wall. When the receiver is laying on their back, giver lowers himself while inside the ass, causing cock tip to move up, if the receiver is on their belly, giver raises up, moving cock tip down. It can't be reached unless the cock is digging in behind the prostate, when you're there, you'll feel a certain sensation that I describe as feeling like cold water up there.

3. Giver's inward thrusts should be fast.

4. When you feel like you have to pee from his thrusts, that should be the beginning, forget what you are after and just let that feeling take you, don't guide it, don't judge it, don't analyze it at all, just feel it exactly how it feels now, not how you imagine it will feel better if you .............. yep, just let it happen and be patient, cuz, it can build and build for what seems forever...

[dragons-bones]

highlights of attending the @suiseiramen Grand Opening last night:

so many Eight Winds friends holy shit there’s a lot of us

Synnove becoming the first winner of the Meteor VII challenge!

watching @keltgeim and Teodore Ronson, quite literally, crash and burn in failing said challenge

(it was seriously hilarious, Kelt and Teo were sitting on either side of Synnove and d y i n g while Synnove was just chewing away happily on her noodles and then chugged the broth at the end)

Kelt getting a little too deep in the sake and yelling at the fish in the aquarium

@angryelbow‘s Aanzo pulling the ‘poor old man’ schtick to get to the lounge downstairs after failing the Meteor VII himself

met @lordsnark!

Kelt + Synnove + Oliver = massive amounts of nerdery

seriously nearly everyone else was all, “we have no idea what you three are talking about”

Kelt and Synnove basically all, “we have a new nerd friend! :D!”

much fun was had! glad I went! :D

also next week is going to be hilarious since it’ll be Kelt, Teo, and Aanzo vs. Meteor VII Round 2. Yosei better have more milk and sweet dumplings ready.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Quirks

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader with OCD

Thank you to the anon who requested this and consulted with me on OCD!

Disclaimer: It it not my intention to glorify or romanticize OCD with this story. I consulted with multiple people who have OCD to develop this character.

Masterlist

“Are you ready for bed?” Peter asked as he climbed under the covers on his side. It was your first night in Peters apartment after moving in with him, and you had a nervous feeling in your tummy. There were things about yourself you had begun to notice, and you wondered how long it would take for Peter to notice as well.

“Almost.” You nodded as you knocked on the wall behind you four times. You climbed into bed beside Peter as if nothing happened, leaving Peter puzzled.

“What are you doing?” Peter chuckled as he watched your movements.

“If I don’t do this, I can’t sleep.” You said simply.

“Okay.” Peter laughed again, making you wince a little.

“I know it doesn’t actually help me sleep.” You admitted. “I just need to do it.”

“Wow. I can’t wait to see all the other little quirks you’ve been hiding from me.” Peter smirked as he leaned over to kiss you.

“Yeah.” You laughed nervously. “Quirks.”

~

Peter woke up the next morning to the feeling of you playing with his hair, soft fingertips brushing it off his forehead.

“Good morning sleepy head.” You said through a yawn as you combed his hair off his face.

“Good morning to you too. Are you hungry?” Peter asked as he rubbed your shoulders.

“Um, what time is it?” You sleepily rubbed your eyes.

“111:23” He answered after checking his phone.

“I’m okay.” You decided, despite your stomach growling. “I’ll wait until lunch.”

“Are you sure?” Peter noticed the growl. “I can make you something.”

“I’m sure. Sure, sure, sure.” You told him. “I’ll wait until lunch.”

Once the clock hit an even number, it was lunchtime. You walked into the kitchen at 2:24 feeling famished.

“God I’m hungry.” You patted your stomach. “Do you have anything to eat?”

“Let’s see.” Peter said as he opened his cabinet. “I have honey and boxed Mac and cheese.”

“Ooo. This a fancy restaurant.” You teased as you hugged him from behind.

“Shut up.” He laughed and turned around in your arms. “I haven’t gone shopping in a while.”

“It’s fine. We’ll go tomorrow.” You told him before kissing him. You broke away from him and took out the macaroni while he got out a pot and filled it with water.

“Here you are my love.” Peter carried the heavy pot with ease and placed it on the stove.

“Thank you. How long does the box say to boil it for?” You asked as you turned the heat up on the stove.

“11-13 minutes.” Peter read off the back of the box.

“Okay.” You nodded as you set the timer to 12 minutes. “Okay, okay, okay.”

“So precise.” Peter joked, making your face flush.

“Yup.” You forced a laugh and kept your tone light. “I just like to be precise. I definitely don’t feel like I can’t eat the macaroni unless it cooks for exactly 12 minutes.”

“What was that?” Peter asked curiously when he didn’t understand what you said.

“Nothing.” You looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. “It’ll be ready soon.”

~

A month later, Peter walked into his bathroom to brush his teeth. You were already in there, leaning close to the mirror and pressing on all your teeth.

“What are you doing?” Peter chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

“I need you to check my teeth.” You turned around in his arms with a panicked expression.

“For food?” He asked and looked at your teeth. “They’re all good.”

“No, for any loose ones.” You told him and he let out a short laugh.

“Why would your teeth be loose?” He raised an eyebrow, thinking you were kidding.

“They’re not. I know they’re not.” You said, mostly to yourself. “Could you just confirm for me that they’re not?”

Peter found the request strange, but obliged and pressed on your teeth the way you had.

“All good.” He confirmed. “Nothing loose.”

You sighed in relief and turned around again, leaving Peter curious about the encounter. He shrugged it off and walked back into the bedroom, changing into his Spiderman suit while you finished up in the bathroom.

“You’re going out?” You asked from the doorway when you noticed Peter in his suit.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t be too long.” He promised. “I’ll be back before you’re asleep.”

“Will you be back before 12?” You asked as you tugged on your earlobe.

“Yeah, I will.” He told you as he placed his hands on your waist.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” You smiled at Peter as you patted his cheek twice before kissing him. You did this every time Peter was about to leave on patrol. Before you were a couple, he’d text you before he would go out on patrol so you could flex your hand three times to ensure his safety. Now, it was two taps to the cheek and a kiss.

An hour into patrol, Peters phone rang and lit up with your contact. He answered it but before he could say hello, you started speaking.

“Peter are you okay?” You wheezed, sounding frantic.

“I’m fine, honey.” He quickly assured you. “Are you okay?”

“Yea.” You sounded more relaxed. “Are you sure you’re okay? Where are you?”

“I’m on a rooftop near the bakery.” He answered. “Did something happen?”

“No.” You sighed. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” He confirmed. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Alright. I love you.” You said into the phone. “I love, love, love you.”

~

“Are you ready to watch the movie, honey?” Peter called from the living room. It was a few months now since you started living together and he had taken a night off from patrol to be with you.

“Almost. I’m just washing my hands.” You called back. A commercial playing in the background caught your attention and you shut the water off to listen.

“What did they say it treated?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder at the TV.

“BPH.” Pete answered, reading off the screen.

“Do I have that?” You wondered, making a Peter laugh. He looked back at you to see if you were kidding, but your face showed your we’re serious.

“BPH? No, lovey.” He shook his head. “That’s just for men. I think it’s when your prostate is enlarged. And in the words of Noah Puckerman, “chicks don’t have prostates”.”

“So I don’t have that?” You asked him again, as if you didn’t believe him.

“No. You don’t have that.” He answered, growing concerned.

“Okay.” You nodded and dried your hands. “Do you have that?”

“Um, I don’t think so.” Peter furrowed his eyebrows at the strange question.

“Okay.” You said again. “Just making sure.”

“Okay.” Peter eyed you curiously as the opening credits started to play. “Oo, it’s starting.”

“I love this movie.” You mumbled as you nuzzled into Peters side.

“Me too.” Peter smiled as he pulled you closer. “I’ve seen it like 3 times already.”

“I’ve seen it 13 times.” You said after a beat of silence, making Peters eyes widen.

“Really?” He asked. “You must really like it.”

“I like rewatching the same movies.” You said sheepishly.

“Why?”

“I like knowing the ending and whats gonna happen next.” You told him, looking at him to see if he thought it was weird. His face didn’t show any signs of disdain, so you relaxed.

You watched the movie in comfortable silence as time went on, never leaving each other’s sides.

“What time is it?” You asked as the movie neared it’s end.

“11:47 babe.” Peter answered when he checked his phone.

“I have to go to bed.” You said suddenly, getting up off the couch.

“The movies almost over, lovey.” Peter chuckled in confusion as you left his side. “Just 30 more minutes.”

“I know.” You chewed your lip nervously and twisted your fingers. “I just have to go to bed. I can’t really explain it.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, still confused. “Good night.”

“Goodnight.” You bent down to kiss him before trotting off to bed. “Night, night, night.”

Peter was beginning to pick up on certain things. You needed it be in bed by 12, you often called him randomly to ask if he was okay, and you stayed away from odd numbers. He didn’t know what to chalk it up to, but he didn’t want to pry if you didn’t want to talk about it.

~

Peter caught you putting your caught on one morning as he was coming into the kitchen to get some breakfast.

“Where are you sneaking off to so early?” He asked through a yawn as he lazily kissed your lips.

“I forgot I have a doctors appointments today.” You pouted. “It’s in a few minutes.”

“Okay. Do you need me to drive you?” He offered.

“You don’t have to drive, but could you come with me?” You asked and he nodded.

“Of course. Let’s go.” Peter grabbed his keys and walked with you to the car.

~

You walked into the lobby where Peter had waited for you with a strange look on his face. Peter immediately stood up and met you halfway, feeling concerned when he saw your expression. He could sense something was off with you but he wasn’t sure what.

“Hey baby.” He rubbed your arms in comfort. “How was the appointment?”

“Um, fine.” You nodded hesitantly. “It was fine.”

“Just fine?” Peter asked. “Did the doctor say anything?”

“No.” You lied. “Nothing important.”

“Thats good.” Peter agreed, not fully convinced you were okay.

“Hey, when’s the last time you had a check up?” You wondered as you walked towards the car.

“Oh, I’m not sure.” Peter shrugged. “Less than a year ago.”

“You should probably get checked out. You know, to make sure you’re okay.” You told him as you buckled your seatbelt.

“Sure. I can schedule an appointment soon.” Peter nodded, still looking at you in confusion.

“Do you feel okay? Do you feel sick or anything?” You put your hand on his forehead while keeping your eyes on the road.

“No.” You said quickly. “I’m okay.”

You continued driving in silence as Peter wondered what was bothering you. You were nervously chewing your lip as you checked your rear view mirror every few seconds.

“Oh my God.” You gasped and looked behind you. “I have to turn around.”

“Why?” Peter turned around as well. “What’s wrong?”

“I might have hit someone.” You gulped and changed lanes so you could turn around. Peters jaw dropped a little, knowing full well that you hadn’t hit anyone.

“Lovey, you didn’t hit anyone.” He said slowly. “We would’ve felt it.”

“I know I didn’t.” You said in defeat. “I just need to check to make sure.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, sensing something was wrong. “We can turn around.”

You turned around and passed by the street where you though you hit something. Nothing was there, so you kept driving. Peter kept hai eyes on you, notching the worried look on your face as you continued to check the mirror.

“Are you okay?” He asked you.

“I have to do it again.” You sighed. “I have to turn around.”

“You didn’t hit anyone. You’re a good driver, baby.” He said quietly as he put his hand on your knee.

“I know I didn’t hit anyone. I know that but I just…” You sighed in frustration and put your blinker on. “I just have to. I’m sorry. I have to turn around.”

“Okay.” Peter agreed, not taking his eyes off you. You drove past the spot again and kept going, but your expression didn’t change.

“Do you want to turn around again?” Peter asked gently, and hit tears fell down your cheeks.

“Yes.” You sputtered. “I have to do it again. I know I didn’t hit anyone but-“

“It’s okay.” Peter assured you. “We can turn around as many times as you want.”

You gave him an appreciative look before turning around again. You calmed down as you passed the spot and continued driving in silence.

“I’m sorry.” You said after a minute. “I know it’s weird. I know I’m weird. I can’t help it though.”

“You don’t have to apologize. And I don’t think it’s weird. I just don’t understand.” Peter spoke softly as he rubbed your knee. You looked at him quickly and chew your lip as you toyed with something in your mind.

“Peter, I have OCD.” You said weakly as you snuck glances at him. Peter’s eyebrows raised in surprise before settling back down into a look of confusion.

“Oh. You do?”

“That’s what the doctor just said.” You continued. “He said there are medications to treat it. I don’t know if I should take it. But I think I need some help.”

“I’m proud of you for telling me you need help.” Peter squeezed your knee. “I had no idea you had OCD. You don’t clean things all the time or like, straighten your pencils or anything.”

“That’s not - no.” You shook your head. “It’s not really like that. It can be for some people, but that’s not what mine is like. OCD is not always cleaning based. Mine is mostly instructive thoughts or repetitive behavior.”

“Oh.” Peter thought back on all your repetitive phrases and movements. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” You sighed and looked at him out of the corner of you eye to see his reaction.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” He asked, much to your surprise.

“Could you just text me? I worry about you. Like, a lot.” You admitted. “I worry about if you’re okay or not all the time. Every time you go out on patrol, I put on this one movie. I feel like if I’m not watching the movie, you’re gonna die. I can’t explain it. I know you won’t die, but I can’t shake the feeling that you will. I just always worry about you.”

“I think I can help that.” Peter offered. “I can text you every half hour and make sure you know I’m safe.”

“Are you sure?” You asked as you pulled into your driveway. “That’s a lot to ask.”

“It’s okay.” Peter assured you. “Whatever I can do to make this easier, I’ll do it.”

You smiled fondly at Peter before leaning over the gear shift and kissing him, patting his cheek twice before pulling away.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “Thats exactly what I needed to hear.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17​ @thebookwormlife​ @imanativeofswlondondahling​ @weirdr-artiest​ @serendipitous-amor​ @dummiesshort​

@foreverxholland​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @justcallmehitgirl​ @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @maryjanee23​ @geeksareunique​ @emmamarshmellow​ @unbelievableholland​ @rebekkah4766​ @flixndchill​ @sovereignparker​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik​ @every-marveler-ever​ @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave​​ @itscaminow​​ @fiantomartell​ @solarxmoonchild​ @where-art-thau-romeo​ @canyouevencauseicant​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife​ @saysomethingspiderman​ @parkerboop​ @smilexcaptainx​ @quaksonhehe​ @kelieah​ @kickingn-ames​ @babeyspidey​ @seasidecrowbar​ @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues​ @electraheart-3174​ @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess​ @spideyanakin​ @horanxholland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ @anapocalypseinmymind​ @marshxx​ @heyheycharlatte​ @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie​ @tomshufflepuff​ @cookiemonstermusic258​

@maybemona​ @young-romanoff​ @alexxcorona113​ @spideyspeaches​ @lethal-wisdom​ @xo-spidey​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @pandaxnienke​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​  @thestylestour​  @officialsimppage​ @mrvelscaptains​ @peterbenjiparker​ @itsemohours​ @satanswitchings​ @okkulta​ @parkerlovebot​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @mati4188​ @geminiparkers​ @jungkxxkk​ @friendlyneighborhood-mendes​ @whatthefuckimbisexual​ @olixerwxxd​ @starkbrain​ @creatorofthegalaxy​ @far-from-holland​ @f-hollands​ @ilovefrogs1000​ @itstaskeen​ @dreamedforu​ @itmatteredatthetime​ @monimillion​ @amazinggracy​ @slutforsebstan​ @iprobablyshipit91​ @magicalxdaydream​ @whereismytelephone​ @theonly1outof-a-billion​ @alwayssandy @leilanixx

[s1ater]

the older boy, part two. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which reader’s friends warn her about the older boy with the red mohawk but she doesn’t listen

warning/s 🚫: swearing

slater’s note 🗯: omg slater finally uploaded 😮

part one, part two

hawk: miss me princess?

you squinted your eyes from the bright glare surfacing from the screen of your phone. it had to be about close to midnight and it was almost something you expected, this text.

he always texted late, always catching you minutes before you decided to clock out for bed, and always drawing out your sleep schedule. so instead of going to bed at 11:30 like normal, you ended up wide awake well around two hours later.

y/n: you flatter yourself too much

hawk: is that so? thought you always looked forward to our nightly convos

y/n: other than them being nightly, sure

hawk: i’m a busy man

you rolled your eyes, “sure you are.”

y/n: that’s probably why i never see you outside of school then huh

you couldn’t careless on why you never saw hawk outside of school. it seemed to be rather a blessing from all the things you had been hearing about him lately. it was just fun to tease.

he liked being teased as weird as it sounded, it fired him up as he stared at the screen of his phone, smirking. hawk knew you knew why you never saw him and why he never saw you. you guys weren’t friends, barely acquaintances, only two oblivious lonely people who wanted someone to fill their hormonal needs. 

hawk: you never see me sweetheart because you never want to

y/n: that’s a lie

hawk: is it?

y/n: i’d love to see you

hawk: i’m sure you would, but face it princess, you’d chicken out halfway through before you’d even see my face

y/n: lies, you sure you’re not talking about yourself?

but was it really a lie? you wondered, thinking whether or not your wits and nervousness would overcome you before you actually saw the face of eli if you were to ever hang out with him.

you bit your lip thinking about earlier today when moon said to stay away from eli for rather obvious reasons. one being he was violent and angry a lot of the time and two... he was a teenage asshole who’d fuck you over the minute you showed vulnerability.

hawk: let me come over if you’re not a pussy

you bit your tongue at the sight of the message. great, you thought. now you had to come up with some excuse only to prove hawk right; that you were a pussy. the thing was, you didn’t actually think he’d want to see you.

it was like a silent agreement that your relationship was flirting only, nothing else. he was like a side hustle along with all the other boys who hit you up through your snapchat.

y/n: sorry babe, i only let boys who actually talk to me in real life come over

hawk: alright, fuck you lmfao

eli mindlessly smiled at his phone screen while shaking his head. he knew you’d be a challenge, and he knew you’d turn him down any minute or mention of hanging out.

he found taunting and teasing you amusing and sometimes the highlights of his days but sometimes it also got boring with how you didn’t put out as easily as the other girls.

y/n: sorry bud

hawk: alright, goodnight princess ;)

°•

it was uneventfully windy as you stood outside waiting for moon’s red car to pull up and drop you home. you almost swore as you came into realization that she probably forgot about you, again.

you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as you checked your phone once again, absent of any notifications that would relate to moon.

you were beginning to feel sick, the kind of sick that resonated in your stomach from a sprout of loneliness. you shook your head, pushing yourself off the brick high school wall deciding you better start walking now if you wanted to get home before five.

your feet begun to burn five minutes into walking the shortest route you could think of as a way home, “fucking, moon.” you shook your head, taking out your phone again. she always had the strangest memory problems and seemed to always goes m.i.a. the moments you need her the most, such as.. when you were desperately in need a ride home. 

“need a ride?”

you almost jumped in surprised, not realizing a car had pulled up next to you as you were focused on your phone. you dipped your head down to the low window of the old red cadillac pulled up next to you, their windows rolled down, old rap music turned down low in order to speak to you. 

eli.  

“nice car,” you quirked your brow with a slight impressed smile. he was one of the last people on earth you would expect to give you a ride despite your conversation the last night. 

“you want a ride or not, princess?” “oh, i wouldn’t want to ruin your special me time, hawk.”

“get in the fucking car, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, quickly done with your bullshit as he put the car in drive. you reluctantly got in the nice car, swinging your bag to the floor as you couldn’t help smile to yourself. 

“you know i’ve never been in a karate kid’s car before,” you mumbled lightly, examining the interior of the car better, your fingers running against the smooth dashboard, impressed by how well restored the old car was. 

“is that so?” he glanced at you, a slight smirk on his face. 

“who restored the car?” you mumbled, your eyes still looking around almost like a kid in a candy store, only more subtle, trying to hide the fact how impressed you were with the car. 

he glanced at you again, almost taken back by the question. it was never a question he had heard before, especially by a girl. he smirked, trying to hide his own surprisal, “you know larusso? guy helped me out with it.”

“nice,” you mumbled, leaning back into the seat, done with your examination. 

it was silent now, and you almost sat comfortably if it weren't for the voice in the back of your head yelling at you that the whole thing was a bad idea. you wanted to ignore it so badly, because you had never actually ever saw a red flag from eli other than the fact that it’s basic knowledge he’d a fuck boy. 

he seemed like a generally good guy. no not a good guy, a guy that was your type. eli wasn’t at all the good guy type but more or so the douche that was only nice to certain group of people, you being on of them. 

because he wanted to fuck you. 

“got something on your mind?” he glanced at you, almost nervously like you'd hop out the window with any wrong move he made. 

“no,” you said it fast making him smirk, almost as if he knew what you were thinking, almost as if he were familiar with the typical female anxiousness. familiar with the fast talking, redden cheeks, lip bites, fingers fiddling, all of it, it seemed as if he just knew. 

and eli was, it hadn't taken him long when going through girls to pick up on the similar body language they all seemed to have. because really, down to the bottle, they all did the same thing; always rubbed their lips together prompting for kisses, using a different fragrance than usual when finally alone, fingers tapping, lessening the clothing on their body than the usual outfit. all similar, and he could almost see it in you despite this being an unintentional meet up... and you weren't trying to pounce on. 

“actually.. yeah,” you lightly bit your bottom lip as you looked at your lap, trying to think of the best way to ask him the question that had been on your mind for awhile; “what do you expect from me, eli?” wow, what kind of question was that?

it was an honest and upfront one, something he wasn't used to, practically sending him into shock as he had to look at you fully to see if you were actually serious and not pulling his leg, seeming like something you'd do. 

but you really wondered. 

“uh- i, what?”

you awkwardly laughed, looking to him, “no, i mean i really don't give a shit, i’m just not about to lead you into something you think you’re going to get nudes in, because your really not.” 

wow, really? 

he almost swore aloud, biting his lip hard, now realizing you really weren't going to be easy, not as easy as the girls who put out the moment you called them pretty, or even the ones who you had to take on a date before they even sent. 

fuck. 

he laughed it off, shaking his head as if you were a fool for thinking that, “you really think that low of me?”

no worries, there’s always plan b; make you feel bad. 

you laughed in return, “yeah, i really do.”

but he forgot you weren’t that stupid to fall for feeling bad just for something you weren’t about. 

“wow.”

“you wouldn't be the first.”

“so, I've heard,” he gripped his neck, eyes now glued to the road before turning into a neighborhood off from the main road, his mind following the map basically glued in his mind from driving past your house to dmitri’s. 

he parked, now seeming to ignore you as his whole plan begun to fall apart right before him. 

“thanks, eli,” you nodded to him, jumping out of the car with your bookbag in hand before beginning to trek up your front yard. 

“anytime, princess.” 

masterlist

💒

join the taglist lil doggy

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[radley-writes]

hello! do you have any advice for plotting, at all? :D

Indeed, I do!

I call myself 'a discovery writer', by which I mean I fully plot out every single novel, get 1/8 of the way through, throw all that hard work in the bin, and sally off on a choose-your-own-adventure game, replotting as I go. Toot toot.

So, I can plot! I just can't stick to it.

Here's what helps me!

Disclaimer: Don't feel obligated to follow my advice. In fact, if you take one look at it and go '...nah', please don't follow my advice - you'd be doing yourself a massive disservice! There are plenty of other how-to guides out here!

But without further ado... PLOTTING WITH RADLEY!

1) Know where you want to go.

Before creating characters, a world, or indeed anything, I figure out a couple things:

First! The vibes.

What tone do I want from this tale? When readers put down the book, what feelings should linger in their chest?

This goes hand-in-hand with figuring out your target audience and genre, but it's a little more abstract. I usually scrawl down a list of aesthetics, emotions, tropes & key concepts that I want to shine!

So: for Strictly, the list would look something like:

Empowered, angry, hopeful, urban deprivation, class contrasts, city lights at night, smoking rubble, big guns and motorbikes

Whereas for Dressage Dragons, we might have:

Fun, complex family bonds, extravagant wealth, grudging friends, dry tinderland in summer, dusty heaths, one spark away from a forest fire...

Second! The ending.

I always, always, always know my climax, before I go in. I need to know what I'm aiming for! Even if my entire plot twists around on itself as I write, that climactic final scene stays the same.

What's the big WOW image at the end that I want to stick in readers' heads? A huge cinematic fight? A devastating betrayal? An agonising choice?

Third! Character beats!

I work out each character's plot-purpose before I flesh them out as people. That way, you get interesting, well-rounded characters whose role in the story feels organic - rather than incredibly well thought-out, deep characters who you then have to build a plot around!

Some people find it easier to work in the other direction. I totally get why - if your characters only exist to hit plot points, they might wind up reading less as 'people', more as 'balls in a giant game of ping-pong'.

My trick is to only paint the bold strokes of their story. I still leave the characters space to develop naturally as I write, but from the moment they're conceived, I know they're going to be the sort of person who, say, will choose vengeance over saving a friend, but will feel horribly guilty about it, change their mind, and go back to save their friend in the nick of time, just before it's too late.

(Or I just plot out their arcs fully, and then ignore all of this as I write 😎)

Generally, I like to look at the climactic end scene, get a vague idea for who the characters involved might be, and work backwards from that point to figure out how they wound up there - and what they lost or gained along the way!

2) get visual!

I never plot on a laptop. I have a load of big old sketchbooks, so I open 'em up and mindmap it out.

A word document will encourage you to think in a very linear, coherent, chronological sort of way.

My brain is none of those things.

So, I toss shit at a wall (metaphorically) and see what sticks. I splooge ideas onto a big sheet of paper, then get out the red thread and thumbtacks and piece it all together.

(exclusive candid image of my plotting process ^^^)

It's so easy to get stuck when you're staring at a blank word document. Lying belly-down on the floor, grabbing sparkly glitter pens and crayons, and going to town on a big sheet of paper? Far easier. Tap into your inner three-year-old and watch the magic happen.

3) Don't be afraid to let an idea marinate.

I'm currently writing two books I've had on my backburner since I was 11. It wasn't 'the time' for those books then. It is now.

There's no rush, unless you're on a contractual deadline. If you can't wrangle a plot together, there’s no shame in putting it in the slow cooker and letting it simmer while you focus on something shinier!

That's all, folks~

Best of luck!

[hangovercurse]

Favorites

You work at the preschool next to Casie’s middle school. One day, you catch Colson’s eyes while working, and lucky for him you happen to know his daughter.

Request: “Hi!! Let me start out by saying that you are so so so talented!! I was wondering if you’d write something about colson falling for a preschool teacher? like he just sees her one day while he’s picking up casey from the middle school and he’s all soft seeing her interact with the kids and he makes up excuses to keep coming to see you!?”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing (maybe?)

A/N: I did that thing where I write too much… again.

Word Count: 2394

Colson tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, drumming softly to the beat of the music coming from his radio. He pulled into the school parking lot, the line already a million cars long it seemed. But he promised Casie he would pick her up whenever he wasn’t working so she didn’t have to take the bus. If that meant spending thirty minutes in a line of slow-moving cars, so be it.

As he was jamming, he glanced out the passenger window, finding a smaller building with a chain link fence outside, surrounding a child’s playground. The door happened to swing open while he was looking, and from there time seemed to move in slow motion.

Out of the door came a dozen or so toddlers, waddling their way outside, surrounding the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. The sun bounced off of your skin perfectly, making everything around you seem so much brighter.

Your skirt flowed with the slight breeze, making the scene more picturesque. He watched as you reached down, picking up one of the toddlers and holding him in your arms. The small boy seemed to be crying, over what Colson couldn’t tell.

You seemed to be speaking to the boy, bouncing him up and down in your arms to comfort him. Meanwhile, a little girl with pigtails made her way over to you. You spoke to her brightly, reaching the arm that wasn’t holding the boy to hold her hand.

Colson’s eyes followed you as you let her drag you over to the playground. You supported her as she climbed the small rock-climbing wall and reach the landing for the slide. You then smiled as she made her way down the slide, telling her good job when she made it to the bottom.

You then turned your attention back to the boy in your arms, making silly faces at him until he laughed.

All it took was those few moments for Colson to get hooked. If there was one thing he found attractive above all else, it was women who loved children. He refused to date anyone who wasn’t supportive of his relationship with Casie, so you were already ahead of everyone on his list. It also helped that you were breathtakingly beautiful.

Colson just got good vibes from you. From his brief observation of you, he could tell you were compassionate and kind, but also childlike and fun, much like himself.

The blonde man was pulled from his thoughts as the car in front of him started moving, signaling the line was moving.

 The next day, Colson had a plan. Instead of driving into the school parking lot, he pulled into the pre-school. He checked himself out in the mirror, praying he would see you working. He stepped out of the car, putting on his best confused dad face, and walked into the building.

And by some miracle, you happened to be speaking with the woman at the front desk.

You were even prettier up close, eyes meeting his and stopping him dead in his tracks. You smiled kindly, voice ringing out, “can I help you, sir.”

He returned your smile, “I was looking for the middle school but I have a feeling I ended up in the wrong place.”

You giggled slightly, “just a little. The middle school is just next door.” You pointed to your right. “Are you picking up a sibling?” You asked.

Truthfully, the man had caught your eye the moment he stepped into the door. It was rare you saw someone your own age, and he was exponentially more attractive than most men. What would it hurt if you got to know him a little bit?

“My daughter, actually.” He spoke, fiddling with the key in his hand. You tilted your head, his face seeming vaguely familiar.

You hesitated before speaking, “who’s your daughter? I substitute over there sometimes and you look vaguely familiar.”

He bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t blown his cover. “Casie Baker.” But surely, he’d have remembered you if he’d met you.

Your eyes widened at the name, “Casie? She’s my absolute favorite!” You grinned at the man, realizing immediately that their similar features made him feel familiar. “She’s awesome.”

Colson smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle, “thank you. Yeah, she’s great.”

“She tells me about you. Whenever I sub in her classes, she talks about how cool you are.”

Colson blushed lightly, rubbing his neck. “I’m Colson.” He reached out an arm to shake your hand, mentally kicking himself as soon as he did it.

You found it endearing, shaking his hand “Y/N.”

 A few days passed and Colson still couldn’t get over how soft your hands were, or how your touch sent electricity running through his body.

He felt ridiculous, leaving rehearsals and recording sessions to pick Casie up with the hope that he gets a glimpse of you.

After a few days of nothing, he almost loses that hope. Until he happens to arrive at the school a little bit early, windows rolled down to let the cool air in. He hears the sudden sound of children laughing, pulling his attention to the playground next door.

And there you are, in all your beautiful glory. Guiding the kids out, helping them into swings and onto the stairs.

Colson must’ve pleased some God because you looked over your shoulder and found him. Of all the cars in the line, you found his, eyes locking immediately. You smiled softly, reaching a hand over to him and waving. He waved back, trying to keep his cool. But really, he was freaking out.

He thought about saying something, or mouthing something, rather, as you were too far away to hear him, but he was stopped by the beautiful brown hair of his favorite girl in the world. Casie plopped herself down on the seat next to him, her backpack falling to the floor with a frown on her face.

She looked up to her dad, about to complain about her day when she saw his preoccupation. She followed his eyes, finding you in the playground. Immediately her mood was lifted, and she turned back to her dad with a grin on her face.

“Daaad?” She questioned, her voice lifting at the end of her question. The blond man looked down to her a soft smile in his face.

“Hey Case, how was school?”

“You think she’s pretty, right?” Casie ignored his question.

Colson scoffed, rolling his eyes, and shifting his car into gear. “She’s… pretty. I guess.” He mumbled, pressing lightly on the gas.

Casie continued smiling up at him, “that’s Ms. Y/N. She’s the coolest.”

“Put your seatbelt on.” He said, pulling out of the parking lot. “And I know, I met her the other day.”

Casie’s eyes lit up at the thought of her two favorite adults meeting. “Really? How? Did you like her?”

Colson chuckled at his daughter, “I went into the pre-school parking lot by accident and she showed me how to get here.” He blushed, knowing Casie would easily spot his lie.

And that she did, “I’ve been going here for almost two years, how did you accidentally go into the wrong parking lot? You pick me up all the time.”

Colson coughed nervously, “so, how was school?” He tried to change the subject.

Casie gasped, “did you go to the preschool just to see her? You like her!”

“I just met her Casie.”

“You like Ms. Y/N!” she sang, dancing in her seat.

“How was school, loser?” He asked, laughing at her.

She ignored him, again. “Does she know you’re my dad? Did she say anything about me?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself at her excitement. “Yes, she does, and yes, she did.”

“What did she say?” Casie practically yelled.

“She said you were the worst student she’s ever substituted for.” He smirked, flinching lightly as Casie slapped his arm.

“She did not say that!” The girl pouted, “Ms. Y/N is my favorite teacher in the whole world.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her affection for you. “She’s not even technically your teacher. But she did say that you were her favorite student.”

Her eyes twinkled, “really?”

Colson nodded, “she also told me that you talk about me in class.” He looked at the girl, raising an eyebrow, “any reason why?”

Casie sunk into her seat, a guilty expression on her face. “No.” Colson looked back to the road, but his eyebrow was still raised, “Okay, fine. I just think it’d be really cool if my favorite dad and my favorite teacher were… friends.”

Colson laughed, “I am your only dad, first of all, and second… don’t be weird.”

“But you said you liked her!” Casie pointed out, making the man’s ears turn red.

“I said she was pretty, that’s not the same thing.”

Casie sang again, “whatever you say.”

He rolled his eyes again, letting out a sigh and dropping the conversation, knowing he would lose. “Are you gonna tell me how school was or not?”

Casie sighed, hitting her back against the seat, “Mr. Clemmons was being mean today again. He said he’s not gonna curve our test even though only 2 people got an A on it.” She crossed her arms and huffed.

Colson pouted, bringing a hand to rub her shoulder, “what’d you get on it?”

She mumbled out, “a B.”

His eyes went wide, “dude, what? That’s awesome, that’s above average. You should be proud of that!” He always tried to encourage Casie, knowing the insane amount of pressure people put on their kids nowadays and not wanting her to feel that.

Casie shrugged, “yeah but my guidance counselor says if I want to get into a magnet program in high school, I have to get all A’s. And I have to get in a magnet program high school to get into a good college.”

His eyes went wide as he pulled into his driveway, “woah, woah, woah. You’re 11 years old! You don’t need to worry about that stuff and whoever is telling you that is wrong. Getting a B or even a C isn’t gonna stop you from getting into whatever program you want, I promise.”

Casie sighed, opening the door, and sliding out. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Can we go back to talking about how you like Ms. Y/N?” She asked, her shoulders slumped.

Colson rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car and following her inside. “I don’t like Ms. Y/N.” He groaned.

“Whatever, but next time she substitutes my class, I’m texting you and you’re gonna bring me lunch and talk to her.” Casie said, going to her room and throwing her backpack onto her bed.

 A week and a half later, Colson was sitting in his car in the school parking lot, staring at himself through his rearview mirror. He looked at the bag of chick-fil-a in the passenger side seat and sighed. His phone buzzed, a text from Casie coming through.

Lunch is starting, where are you???

He chuckled and texted back.

Going to the office now, calm down

He grabbed the bags and drinks, opening his door and stepping out. He made his way through the office, getting his visitor’s badge, and moving towards the cafeteria. He opened the door, searching through the sea of children for his daughter, only to find your eyes instead.

You smiled brightly, head tilting as if to ask why he’s here. He returned the smile, holding up the bags to answer your question. Casie appeared next to you, waving her hand. Colson made his way through the pre-teens, trying not to crush any of them.

Casie and you giggled at his struggle, joking with each other. Eventually he reached you two, setting the food on the table that Casie had reserved just for you three. The girl took her place across from him, motioning you to sit down next to him. You laughed but followed her directions.

Colson took the food out of the bag, passing Casie her sandwich and fries and pulling his food out of the bag. He turned to you, a smile on his face. “Woah, they must’ve given me an extra sandwich.” He held it out for you to take.

You obliged, giggling lightly. “How strange.” You commented, your smile never leaving.

“Oh, right. Ms. Y/N, this is my dad, Colson. Dad, this is Ms. Y/N, the best substitute ever.” Casie said, pointing between the two.

Colson chuckled, “yes, Casie. We’ve met.” He looked over to you, hiding his laugh behind his sandwich.

“Yep. Someone got lost and found me at the preschool.” You said, your voice exaggerating. Shit, Colson thought, you were onto him. “Speaking of, Casie. I know you’ve been talking about needing volunteer hours. If you want you can come by after school some days and help me with the aftercare program? I can take you home afterwards if your dad can’t pick you up.”

Casie smiled brightly, nodding her head. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Colson watched the interaction, fondness in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. He was falling hard.

You turned to him, kindness in your eyes, “if it’s okay with your dad.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind having her around. I’m cool with it.” He tried to hide the blush on his cheeks as you continued to look at him, taking in his features.

Casie squealed, “thank you!”

You simply smiled and shrugged, “it’s not a big deal. I get some extra help and I get to spend some more time with my favorite 11-year-old. Maybe her dad can even stop by and help sometime.”

You turned to the man next to you, who was sure he’d turned very red. He was never this nervous around women, but something about you made him incredibly self-conscious, like he had to impress you.

He mumbled out a quick “huh?” before registering your question. “Uh, yeah, sure. If you want me to come help. I’d be cool with that.” He turned to meet your eyes.

You giggled, holding the eye contact, “I do want you to. I’d like it a lot if you did.”

Casie looked between you two, suddenly regretting what she’d done, “are you two done? I’m trying to eat my sandwich.”

[kjd55]

pleaseeeee make a part 2 to 9:39pm!!!!!

[9:39pm] 2/2

you asked so you shall receive 😏 read part one here !!!!

warnings: suggestive at the end lol

over the weeks, the two of you practiced skating as much as you could. you hadn’t quite gotten over your fear of falling but you liked skating a lot. what you liked more however, was the intimacy of it all. you and vinnie were close, but now that you’d started skateboarding, it caused you to spend a lot more time with him, blurring the lines between friendship—and something more.

vinnie even got you your very own skateboard, customized to your liking with spray paint and various stickers.

vinnie: wanna sneak out and go to the skatepark rn? sent 11:30pm

you: yea sure lemme get dressed first. sent 11:31pm seen

not even five minutes later, you heard a tap on your window, followed by two more. opening your curtain, you saw a pebble hit your window. looking down, was vinnie; a skateboard in one hand and a collection of small stones in the other. grinning, you grabbed your skateboard that was leaning against your wall along with your phone and climbed out your window, making your way down to ground level.

“my parents are going to lose it when they find out how often i’ve been sneaking out lately,” you feigned a sigh, glancing at vinnie.

he chuckled, gently knocking your shoulder with him own. “i’m sure they won’t get too angry if they knew you were safe with me.”

you walked in the middle of the empty neighbourhood road, not even a five minute walk from the skatepark. it was warm, due to it being a dry july night. you glanced up at the star-speckled sky: a dark purple colour.

you stole a look at the boy beside you, who was also looking at the sky. the near street lamp caused the angles and planes of his face to contrast, and you secretly admired every feature of him like you’d never seen them before.

before you could blink, his lips curved into a smirk. “i can feel you watching me y/n.” he turned his head towards you, and you looked away. “shut up. you stare at me all the time.”

he was quiet for a while, and you looked back at him. his cheeks might’ve been pink, but you couldn’t tell, it was too dark.

“how can i not?” and you swore you could hear a “you’re literally so beautiful,” under his breath.

“wait what? what’d you just say-“ vinnie grabbed your hand and you both sprinted the remaining 200 yards to the skatepark. both of your faces adorning wide, ridiculous grins. you could feel the warmth of his hand blanketing your own.

“vinnie!” you laughed and gasped at the same time, trying to catch your breath. he mirrored you, also out of breath.

“what was that for?!” you said, playfully hitting his chest once you both stopped heaving.

he shrugged, ignoring your question. “wanna try riding the ramp?” he said, point to the ramp at the other side of the park. you said yes, and he led you there.

it was a small ramp, only about 2 feet big. still, you were nervous. vinnie must’ve noticed, because he grasped onto your hand, a silent encouragement.

you felt good. skating was exhilarating, and when you’d finally master tricks, you felt like you were on top of the world.

what you hated about skating, was falling. and when you lost balance on the ramp, pulling vinnie down with you, you nearly had a heart attack.

vinnies arms were caged around you, and your eyes were locked on his. his face was so close— barely 3 inches from you. one of his hands were behind your head, protecting it from the fall.

all of a sudden, you felt his lips on yours. you were thinking you must’ve hit your head— but no. this was real. and before he could pull away, you buried your hands in his hair, gently pulling at the locks at his nape, causing him to groan. his lips were full, and slightly chapped, but it was nice.

you both finally pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting both your lips. you were gasping for air, lips swollen, and in complete disarray. vinnie buried his head in your neck, pecking it gently. “holy fuck. i’ve been waiting years to do that.”

[cinebration]

Code Words (Bucky Barnes x Reader) [Part 3]

At the precinct.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Epilogue

Tagged: @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen​​, @sltwins​​, @fionanovasleftnut​​, @daddys-littlewhitegirl​​, @i-knowyou​​, @the-doctors-fallen-angel​​

Warnings: none

Gif source: buckybarnesj

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you repeated.

Detective Mendez sighed, her dark, plump features creased in displeasure. “We have you on video.”

You gaped at her with all the grace of a fish gasping for water. “What do you mean?”

Mendez tapped a few times on her tablet before spinning it around to face you. Footage from the bank robbery played onscreen. Your image walked through the doors, taking out the security guard with one careful blow to the side of his knee. You watched in mounting disbelief as your image hopped over the counter and disappeared into the vault, a handsome man following after you. You returned several moments later with a heavier duffel bag.

“I don’t…” You paused the video with one finger, replayed it. You rewound again and again, freezing on the clear image of your face as you emerged from the vault. “I can’t…”

“What did you do with the money?”

“I don’t…” Swallowing thickly, you touched the bruise around your neck. “I was at home.”

Mendez huffed with frustration. “Why don’t you just cut the act and tell us why you did this? There’s no point lying anymore!”

“I’m not lying! I was home! I was getting into the shower. I got a phone call…a phone call, and I answered, and then I was in the shower and in bed.”

“Ma’am—”

You stared down at the frozen footage in front of you. Your throat ached. You had lost two hours. Two hours somehow partially accounted for on the video.

“I think…I should have a lawyer now,” you whispered, avoiding the detective’s accusing gaze.

“Are you sure? Lawyering up is a sign of guilt.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

Shaking your head, you slumped back in your seat. “I need one. Please.”

Making a noise of frustration in the back of her throat, Mendez snatched up the tablet. “You have three phone calls. If no one picks up, tough luck.”

You shuffled along at the side of a uniformed cop. He led you to a phone mounted to the wall. With one yank at its top, it would tear from the wall easily, you noted. They should get that fixed.

Staring at the keypad, you felt numb. You didn’t know who to call. You didn’t have any numbers memorized. Your mother had died a year before, the only child of only children. You had been the same, a lone child with only a mother to care for you.

You had no one.

Wracking your brain, you searched desperately for some—any—number.

Then it hit you, the numbers clear as day. You weren’t sure what they belonged to, but you typed them desperately into the keypad, praying they were useful.

The phone rang. Rang. Rang. Rang.

Hope flagging, you moved to end the call.

The other end picked up. A voice spoke.

You went still.

~~

Bucky examined the building’s façade for a few minutes. It was possible the door to your apartment was unguarded, merely taped up for police evidence, but he didn’t want to risk being seen in the hallway by a cop or a nosey neighbor. So he slipped into the alley between the buildings and looked for the easiest way to climb up to your window.

Lucky for him, one window didn’t face the street. Glancing over his shoulder, he waited until there was a break in the foot traffic on the sidewalk before leaping, both hands reaching for the sill beneath yours. Another small jump and he was forcing himself through your window. It had been left unlocked, perhaps in your haste to leave that morning. Or maybe the cops had opened it to peer out into the alley in case you had thrown the money onto the adjacent roof or in a dumpster.

Sam had come through with a name, a contact of his in the Air Force being buddies with someone in the NYPD. Your name and address had been sufficient for Bucky. He was disconcerted that the police had found you so quickly. That you had walked in without a mask bothered him more than it clearly bothered the cops. Something wasn’t right, and he needed to know what.

The cops had taken your laptop and phone, confiscating any and all relevant electronics. Bucky still rummaged through your bedroom, carefully picking through the mess the police had left behind. On your desk, he found a few pages of your dissertation: On genetic mutations affecting extrasensory perception and other psychological phenomena. There was a note beside the title indicating you needed to revise it for more specificity.

At the bottom drawer of your desk sat your bachelor’s in biology. It was simply framed and layered in dust, Stanford University emblazoned above your name on rich paper. Bucky glanced at it before shutting the drawer and continuing his search.

A strip of paper you had scribbled your schedule out on had been overlooked by the cops. According to it, your life consisted of the classes you taught and a weekly lunch with whom Bucky presumed was your only friend. From what he gathered, you lived alone and didn’t invite many people over. Your refrigerator was sparsely stocked, and there were no pictures except for one of an older woman he guessed was your mother.

You seemed to lead an otherwise normal life. He found a violin in the back of your closet and a duffel bag that looked similar to the one you had taken to the bank. It was full of used gym clothes and a racket at the bottom beside some worn racquetballs.

You had hobbies, at least, which was more than he could say.

Bucky felt stymied. Everything in his gut said that something was off, but he couldn’t determine what.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered immediately. “What is it, Sam?”

“You need to take a look at the video I just sent you.”

“I’m not at a computer.”

“Why don’t you have a smartphone?”

“Flip phones are easier.”

Strangling a noise of exasperation, Sam continued, “The girl just busted out of jail.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and she wasn’t playing around.”

Bucky stuck his head out the bedroom window, checking the alley before he dropped down. “Where did she go?”

“It looks like she was headed to Manhattan. She was driving a white Buick.” Sam rattled off the plate number for Bucky to memorize. “Bucky, this girl seems like something else. Should I come up and help?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Okay…make sure you take a look at the footage I sent you. Oh and Bucky, she took someone from one of the cells.”

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

At 11:08pm In The Music Room, I Was Saved (Part 2)

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

Part 1

A/N: second and last part, lovelies. Thank you again anon for this prompt (I may have, once again, deviated from your original idea bear with me), and thank you @venablemayfairgoode for helping me figure out the end (tw: the death of a dog is mentioned :))))))) ). As always, English isn’t my first language. x

Word count:  ≈ 7 000

You were so fucking pissed. Also, you couldn’t stop crying. The world had ended on a beautiful late spring afternoon and now, for some reason, you were trapped in a gloomy building with people you didn’t know and the woman who had broken your heart bossing you around.

And the worst was, you had been so relieved to know she had survived. And you shouldn’t have. But the tears you had cried on the plane to Outpost 3 had not only been for your family and friends; they had also been for her. They had mostly been for her. And you hated yourself because of that.

She looked different. Her clothes were darker, her hair was darker, her eyes were darker and they were glazed. They looked as if they were made of stone. Tourmaline maybe. Something bad must have happened to her, but you decided you didn’t care. Bad things had happened to you, too, and one of them she had caused.

“There’s been a mistake,” she said, voice very deep and very slow. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t want to be here,” you sobbed.

“You were assigned at Outpost 2.”

You were so mad at her. Had she done this? Ripped you from your family and sent you to this dark place to spend the rest of your life consumed by grief and guilt and hatred? She couldn’t have done this, she wouldn’t have done this but then again and was that panic in her eyes? It was gone before you had time to take a good look at it, but you knew her. You knew how to read her.

“Why are you here?” she asked, as if you had chosen to, as if it had been your decision.

“Because some rude guys barged into my flat and shoved me into a plane,” you sobbed, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. “I don’t want to be here,” you repeated.

“You should’ve been sent to Outpost 2,” she said. She was trying so hard to hide the confusion from her face, but you saw it, and you saw that flash in her eyes again and it was panic.

Suddenly it hit you: how could she know where you should have been sent? How could she –

“Did you…” It was hard to speak. Your throat was too tight. Your eyes widened with horror, and hers hardened. “Are you the reason why I’m here?”

You were vaguely aware that everyone else in the room was staring at you and Wilhemina. You should have felt ill-at-ease, should have felt shy. But all you could feel was anger.

“I don’t want to be here!” you cried again, but this time it was fierce. This time it was a cry of rage.

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the ground. The sound echoed off the walls.

“Better sad than dead,” she said coldly. And then she proceeded to ignore you as she explained the house rules.

You barely heard what she said. You were burning, and you couldn’t stop your tears from falling. This was not happening. You were in a dream. You would wake up and everything would be alright. You would count to ten and the nightmare would end.

You counted to ten. It didn’t end.  

What you did hear of Wilhemina’s speech sounded ridiculous. No technology? No sex? Death punishment for intimacy? People basically being your slaves? Her eyes were too cold. They were glazed. This wasn’t the Wilhemina you knew. The Wilhemina you knew had used cruelty for protection. This one used cruelty for fun.

A few people protested, but the protests didn’t last long. This Wilhemina was just as scary as the one you knew.

And then she was leaving, to the sound of her cane, every tap a stab to your heart. A Grey led you to your room and you collapsed on your bed, hugged your pillow, and cried.

The next few days you didn’t leave your room often. You felt so empty. You spent most of your time lying on your bed and grieving the people you had lost. You got up for lunch and dinner. Sat at the table and stared at your plate as the others tried to make small talk. The food cube had no taste. It felt like jelly in your mouth. You hated it. You hated having to swallow it. You hated how it never soothed the hunger in your stomach.

You sat on the left side of the table. Wilhemina sat at the head of it. The light from the candles would glint off your food cube and fork. Coco sat on your left, a girl named Mary on your right. Coco would do most of the talking. Complaining, really. Sometimes – but only sometimes – you would glance in Wilhemina’s direction. Once or twice, she met your eyes. Hers were cold and like a black hole.

After the first week your tears finally subsided. You spent more time in the music room with the others, playing board games, reading, talking. Coco was a bitch, but she made you laugh, and you soon befriended the girl named Mary. She was about your age, was very shy and didn’t speak often. She kept in her pocket a photo of the dog she had owned and loved more than anything else, a small, sweet thing with big black eyes named Sam.

You didn’t know how Wilhemina spent her days. You barely ever saw her. You could forget her, you thought, if you didn’t dream of her every night. You would forget her if only your stupid heart would stop skipping a beat and break into a gallop every time you heard the familiar sound of her cane, letting you know she was coming, she was coming! in a second you would see her and be near her and hear her voice. You would forget her if she wasn’t your first thought every damn morning when you woke up. If when she was near you, you didn’t feel like you were burning and suddenly became aware of every single sound that was her, the rustle of her dress, her breathing, her heart beating, her eyelashes fluttering, everything.

You barely ever saw her, but when you did, time stopped, and it lasted forever.

You fell into a routine. Aimless, dreary. Getting out of bed every morning. Eating your food cube. Making small talk with the other residents. A teary-eyed Mary showing you her picture of Sam. Trying not to think, not to remember. It went on like this for a week and a half, until two Greys were found having sex and were sentenced to death.

It was Mary who told you the news, just before dinner. At first you thought she was joking. But then every soul at the Outpost was talking about it and even Coco seemed scared.

You didn’t know the Grey girl, but you had spoken to the boy once or twice. His name was Mark. He smiled at you every time you would meet him in a corridor.

You ate your food cube in complete silence and shock. When dinner was over, when Wilhemina stood up and walked off, you didn’t think. You stood up, too, and followed her.

She didn’t become aware of your presence until she was halfway down the corridor to her room. You saw her slow down, come to a halt. She tapped her cane on the floor, then turned on her heel.

Time slowed down. You noticed every detail, even the smallest ones. The way the candlelight glided over her cheekbones as she turned. You were still so attuned to her, every inch of her.

You stopped breathing as her eyes locked with yours. And it would have been so easy, to take a step forward, to wrap your arms around her waist, to pull her close and go back home. It seemed her eyes were pleading you to do just that.

But then she blinked, and her eyes turned cold. Glazed. Tourmaline. You felt your body stiffen.

“May I speak to you?” you asked, almost a hiss. Then you added, “Ms Venable.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly at you, raised her chin. “I do not care to hear what you have to say,” she said coldly.

You took a step forward and snarled, “I will say it. You can either listen to me here, or in your room. Office. Whatever.”

Her nostrils flared, and for a second you thought she was going to slap you. You had seen her slap some of the other residents who had dared question her rules. That was one of the things the new Wilhemina had no problem doing.

But she merely nodded, almost imperceptibly, and led you to her room.

You tried not to look. At the bed, perfectly made, at the pillow where she laid her head every night. At the vanity where she did her hair and make-up every morning. All the small rituals you knew so well.

It hurt. Merely standing there in her room felt like someone was crushing your heart between cold fingers.  

You came to a halt in the middle of the room and tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. Wilhemina stopped in front of you, rested both her hands on the head of her cane.

How did she look so different? Why was her face so hard and so cold? She reminded you of the ancient statues of Greek or Italian gods. The powerful, lifeless stare. The dangerous power. How she could destroy you – how she had destroyed you – with one word or one tap of her cane on the floor.

You searched her face for the light, for the fear, for the love, the shyness and the boldness, the desire to be completely, truly seen and loved. You found nothing.

“Well?” she asked, annoyed, after a while.

You cleared your throat. “I heard you’re gonna have Mark and that Grey girl executed tomorrow morning.”

“You heard right,” she mocked.

You cleared your throat again. Your right hand twitched at your side. “Why?”

She made an annoyed noise. “You know why. They didn’t follow the rules. They put their own little disgusting needs first and compromised the group. We cannot have more mouths to feed.”

“Disgusting needs,” you repeated automatically. You took one step towards her and raised your head defiantly. “I don’t remember you calling sex ‘disgusting’ when we were doing it.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Something that almost looked familiar.

“Don’t be crude,” she hissed.

“You cannot have those two Greys killed,” you went on, ignoring her. “That’s murder, Wilhemina.”

Her name dropped from your mouth before you had time to think. You paused. She didn’t react.

“I know you’re better than that,” you added, taking another step towards her. Closer. You wanted to reach out and touch her. It seemed to you she was leaning forward, forward – towards you. It seemed to you her eyes flicked to your lips.

How you had missed her. How you missed her still. How you wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and demand an explanation as to why she had destroyed your world, stolen all the stars from your night sky. How had she dared, who did she think she was, and what had happened to her that had stolen all the light from her eyes?

“For God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you cried when still she didn’t react, didn’t speak, didn’t move, “you can’t kill two people for being in love!”

“Why not?”she hissed, low and dangerous, like a snake.”What’s so special about love?”

“You know what’s so special about love. You felt it.” A pause. “And don’t tell me you didn’t. You may think you were good at hiding your feelings, but you weren’t.”

Wilhemina’s gaze hardened. “Those two Greys will die tomorrow at dawn,” she answered emotionlessly.

You raised your hands in frustration. “What’s wrong with you?” you cried. Again, she didn’t react. Her silence only fueled your anger. “If you do that,” you went on, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from yelling the words, “if you have them killed, you’ll be walking down a path I cannot follow you on.” You gave a mirthless laugh. “But I guess you don’t care. Who am I kidding? You don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. You made that clear months ago. But ask yourself this question, Wilhemina: will you be able to sleep knowing you’ve killed two innocent people?”

Oh, she would. Without a doubt she would. She knew it and you knew it and you saw it on her face. Yours turned sickly pale.

“Okay,” you mumbled, lowering your head in defeat. “Okay. I – you know what, I –“ You met her eyes again. “I don’t even know how I could fall in love with you in the first place.”

She swallowed, but her face remained blank. But that familiar something flashed in her eyes again, something sad, that looked almost like the Wilhemina she used to be.

You knew confronting her would likely make her shut down. You knew that. But you were only human, for God’s sake, and you had been hurt and betrayed and it was a well-known fact, that anger was stronger than Man.

So you took yet another step towards her and clenched your fists.

“I have questions,” you growled, “and you’re going to answer them. Why am I here? What made you think you could dump me with no explanation? Did you even love me, or was it all a game to you?”

By the end of your little outburst you were breathless, and Wilhemina, the Wilhemina you had tried to reach and caught a glimpse of, had been roughly locked away.

“Say one more word,” she enunciated, glazed, empty eyes staring right into yours,” and I’ll have you arrested and whipped every day until you meet your pitiful end.”

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off. “Don’t forget who you are, Y/N. I’m the only one who has authority here. If you question me or my rules again, I’ll make sure that insolent tongue of yours is nicely severed from the rest of your body. And don’t think I won’t enjoy watching.”

Your whole body was shaking. But it wasn’t with fear. It was with rage, and with something else you didn’t like at all, for that something else was love. Love that was terrified and aching because this wasn’t her, this wasn’t right, and part of you desperately wanted to make it right again.

Someone knocked on the door. Your eyes widened.

Don’t, you screamed at Wilhemina in your head. Ignore whoever it is. Talk to me. Let me in, let me help you, let me –

“Yes?” Wilhemina called.

The door opened, and Mary shyly stepped into the room. “I, um, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said in her sweet, low voice. “But, um, Y/N, I need your help with something.”

“Can’t it wait?” you asked her, your gaze not leaving Wilhemina’s face, your voice shaking, your body shaking with rage and love and ache.

“Obviously it cannot,” Wilhemina answered, eyes boring into you. “Or else little Mary wouldn’t have been brave enough to push that door open.”

Mary shot her a scared glance and immediately lowered her eyes again.

Send her off, you begged Wilhemina. Make me stay.

Her gaze was too intense, it was too cold, too dark. You lowered your head and turned to Mary.

“I lied,” Mary whispered once she had closed the door behind you two. She glanced up at you with a smile. “I don’t need your help with anything. I just thought I should come and rescue you.”

You swallowed. Your body was still shaking, and you couldn’t unclench your fists. “Right.”

“I heard her threaten you. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you retorted sharply.

Wilhemina wouldn’t hurt you, you thought. She had only tried to scare you, to push you away. She would never carry out her threat.

But then again. You didn’t know what this new Wilhemina was capable of. Fear vaguely sang in your chest. Maybe she had meant every word.

“If there’s anything I can do to help you,” Mary was saying, “please tell me. I’ll be happy to listen.”

You thanked her, told her you wanted to be alone, and went to your room.

**

Wilhemina had decided the execution would be public to set an example. All the residents of Outpost 3 gathered in the music room and the two Greys who were to die were ordered to sit down on their knees in the middle of the room. They were both crying. Pathetic. Weak. Wilhemina looked down on them and smiled to herself.

A guard walked in with a gun. The Grey boy whimpered.

Someone – the hairdresser – mumbled something, a protest probably, but he was too scared to say it loudly. The old lady who had once been a star nodded at Wilhemina and gave her a smile and a thumbs up. Wilhemina ignored her.

You were standing in front of her slightly on her left, by Mary’s side. Wilhemina was trying not to pay you attention, but somehow you were the only person she could see.

You spent an awful lot of time with Mary, she had noticed. Laughing together, talking together, napping together. Good thing for you. Mary was just the type of person who would treat you right. She’d be kind, and happy, and healthy, and enough.

The Grey boy said something, pleaded for his life, probably. Wilhemina didn’t care. She didn’t listen. She nodded to the guard, and he crossed to him, holding the gun in front of him.

Wilhemina saw Mary grab your hand, saw you touch your shoulder to hers. Oh, you would be alright.

She didn’t know why, but her eyes had started to sting. Her hands were shaking. She willed them not to. They would not stop.

The guard raised his gun, pointed it at the Grey boy’s head, but Wilhemina didn’t see him, not really. She saw you turn your head and look at her, your eyes glossy and pleading, your hand holding Mary’s, and Wilhemina took a sharp intake of breath and felt tears pool in her eyes for she had loved and loved you and she had lost you. And now she was losing you again.

But she couldn’t go back, not now. She would lose her authority, she would be laughed at. And besides, she didn’t want to. This execution was the right thing to do. It would make everyone at the Outpost fear and respect her. They would bow their heads to her and they would hate her but they would never, never laugh at her.

There was a low but fierce shout, “Stop!” Your voice.

The guard lowered his arm slightly. He looked at you, confused, then at Wilhemina, awaiting orders. You stepped forward, letting go of Mary’s hand, came to a halt as if you weren’t sure what to do. A second passed. Then you crossed to Wilhemina, cupped her face in your hands, searched her eyes and murmured, “I love you.”

Something inside of her melted. The warmth from your touch and the warmth from your voice seeped into her and turned ice into water. The water washed down everything and left her insides dripping wet and glinting in the sun like after a hurricane.

You had spoken too low for the others to hear, but they saw the change on Wilhemina’s face. They saw her eyes widen and the light weave in as if she had opened a blind to let the sun in. They saw life and emotion settle back on her face and soften it.

For the first time since the world had ended, since you had walked into this music room sobbing and looked up and met Wilhemina’s eyes, you found her again. And you fell in love with her all over again.

You tried to give her a smile, and it was small and quivering, but it was genuine. It was fond. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as she searched your eyes, wondering, hoping, and when she blinked a tear rolled down her cheek and you caught it with your thumb. You were crying, too, but you smiled again, stroke her cheek. You felt the tension leave your shoulders.

The gunshot echoed off the walls as loud as a crack of thunder. It made everyone in the room jump. The Grey girl screamed as Mark slumped onto the floor at the guard’s feet. The guard moved his hand, pointed his gun at the girl and pulled the trigger.

The second gunshot was louder, somehow. It deafened you and left a ringing in your ears. Your hands fell from Wilhemina’s face as you both turned to stare at the two corpses. Blood slowly pooled around them and shone faintly in the candlelight.

The guard met your horrified gaze and shrugged. “Following orders,” he said nonchalantly. “It was taking too long.”

Wilhemina was staring down at the two dead bodies with an unreadable expression on her face. Then she looked up at the guard, and her eyes were glazed again.

“I didn’t order you to shoot,” she said coldly.

“You did,” the guard argued.

“She told you to stop,” Wilhemina said, nodding at you, her voice growing angry now.

The guard shrugged again. “I only take my orders from you.” He raised his gun and held it to his chest, a defiant look in his eyes.

Someone in the room was crying softly. You didn’t know who. Your mind had gone numb.

Wilhemina turned away from you. Slowly, regally, she walked to the corpses, her dark, glazed eyes fixed on the boy’s head. She stopped in front of him and tapped her cane on the ground. Then she gave orders to carry the corpses outside and burn them.

Dinner was silent that night. You swallowed your food cube and drank your water. You couldn’t look at Wilhemina. Coco tried to diffuse the tension with a few sly remarks that made some of the residents laugh nervously. When dinner was over, you excused yourself and went to your room.

You lay on your bed and prayed for sleep, but sleep, unsurprisingly, didn’t come. You turned and turned until you gave up. You sat up with a groan and buried your face in your hands.

Blood, slowly pooling. The two bodies, not moving. Wilhemina’s eyes, widening. A tear rolling down her face, that you caught with your thumb. You couldn’t chase those images from your mind.

It hadn’t been her fault, not really, you told yourself. She would have spared them in the end. You knew it. Without a doubt.

You buried your fingers in your hair, dug your nails into your skull. She would have spared them, for the Wilhemina you knew had come back, if only for a few seconds – and she had been hopeful, and you had been, too.  

And you knew you should still be mad, you knew it was too early to forgive her. But you were ready to surrender and fall back into her arms the second she’d want you back. If she ever decided she wanted you back.

There was a whisper, in your head, that assured you she did.

At 11:00pm you gave up on trying to sleep. You got up and went to the music room, hoping someone would be there and would like to talk to help you pass the time. Maybe Coco, for she would make you laugh. Or Mary, for her kindness would soothe you.

There was only one person, and it was Wilhemina. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. You thought it was because of annoyance, or disappointment maybe. Bullshit, your heart told you. She had been the one you had wanted to find.

Wilhemina was sitting in an armchair, her hands resting on the head of her cane, her eyes fixed on the fire. She raised her head when she heard your footsteps, and met your eyes.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked, not unkindly.

“There’s no curfew I know of,” you replied, probably too sharply, but Wilhemina didn’t seem to mind. She nodded, then resumed her staring at the fire.

For a minute you hesitated. Going back to your room was the wisest and safest option. But before you had consciously taken your decision, your feet moved towards Wilhemina. A moth drawn to a flame. Always, when it came to her.

You sat on the armchair opposite the hearth from her. For a long moment there was only silence. The fire crackled lazily and warmed you up.  

You glanced up at Wilhemina, only to realize she was staring at you. You quickly lowered your gaze, nervously shifted in your armchair, then glanced at her again.  

The expression on her face wasn’t closed, you noticed. There was a wistfulness to it, some sprinkles of curiosity, too. You felt hopeful again.

“So,” you said, assuming a casual tone as if you two were having a friendly conversation in a bar, “what’s your plan in the long run?”

Wilhemina watched you for a few seconds before she answered. Her voice was emotionless. “The Cooperative should contact me soon enough with new instructions.”

That’s not what you had meant. You had meant about her and you. But you let it drop.

“So you’re still following orders, uh?” you taunted. “I thought you were the only boss around here.”

“This is bigger than this outpost,” Wilhemina replied coldly. “This is about building a new, better world, where everyone is at their rightful place according to their worth and abilities.”

“What is my rightful place in this new world, do you think?” You waited, but no answer came.”What is yours?” you tried again. “Let me guess. You are the feared, hated leader. Making sure everyone respects you, making sure everyone survives. Noble work, but it sounds awfully lonely. Wouldn’t you rather fall asleep in somebody’s arms every night?”

Wilhemina’s expression hardened. She kept silent, which surprised you, and averted her eyes from your face to stare at the fire again.

You watched her. You watched the shadows the flames threw on her face. Followed the arch of her brow, the line of her mouth.

Had she done something to her hair, or was it the dim light? It was darker now. She had let you dye it once when you two had been dating. You had frowned at the smell and coughed and splashed the walls with tiny dots of orange. Wilhemina had tried to scold you, but she had burst into laughter instead, her hair piled on top of her head. She had let you wipe the dye splatters from her face and tuck her hair in a shower cap. And while the dye processed, she had sat on the couch reading and you had rested your head on her lap and grinned at her.  

Wilhemina cleared her throat, bringing you back to reality.

“What you said earlier, did you really mean it?” she asked in a low voice, still staring at the fire. “Or were you only trying to save the Greys?”

You leaned forward, digging your elbows into your thighs. “I’ll answer that once you’ve answered my own question. Why did you leave me?”

A pause. An annoyed look.

“Because I felt like it,” Wilhemina replied.

Your jaw dropped. “Wow. Because you felt like it?” You shook your head, anger rising in your chest. “I don’t believe you. I’ll ask it again. Why did you leave me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve just told you why. It’s not my fault you’re too proud to accept it.”

“Why did you leave me?” you repeated, clenching your fists.

Wilhemina made an angry noise. She tapped her cane on the floor, then slowly stood up. You jumped on your feet and followed her when she crossed the room and turned right down a corridor.

“Did you wake up one morning and realize you didn’t love me?” you called, as she opened the door to her room. You stepped inside after her. “You’d had your fun, but now it was time to plan the end of the world? Uh? Do you have any idea,” you growled, voice growing louder and angrier, “how it felt to watch you leave without even knowing what I did wrong?”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Wilhemina said, voice quavering.

“Then why the fuck did you leave?” you growled, taking one step toward her. “Tell me! For fuck’s sake, I deserve an explanation!”

She couldn’t meet your eyes anymore. She was staring at the floor and her breathing was quickening at it always would when she was trying not to cry. And suddenly you were in the company of the Wilhemina you knew, the one you loved, the one who didn’t think she should be soft and kind but was still willing to try, for you.

“Elijah came to see me,” she answered, so low you barely heard it.

“So what?” you growled. “You fucked him and realized he was your one true love?”

She winced, and you bit your cheek, thinking that maybe you had gone a bit too far. But she deserved it, part of you thought. She had hurt you too badly.

You waited, but she didn’t add anything after that. So, rage beating inside your chest instead of your heart, you strode to her and planted yourself right in front of her, fuming, and she flinched but held her ground.

“Tell me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “Why did you leave me?”

She drew in a breath, turned away from you and crossed to her chest of drawers. You were about to yell at her when she opened one of the drawers, closed it again. She crossed back to you and dropped something into your hand.

A lighter. Small and black and plain. You stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“What…?”

Wilhemina had never been good with words. But when you two had been dating, she had been willing to open herself up to you in any way she could. Actions sometimes were easier, she had found.

You glanced up at her, then back down at the lighter in your palm. “I don’t understand,” you said.

Wilhemina had averted her gaze from you again. “I couldn’t pick it up from the floor,” she whispered brokenly.

It didn’t hit you all at once like a revelation. Instead it felt like something spreading inside your head. A bubble. Slowly inflating until it burst.

“What?”

Somehow, it was the only thing you could say.

Wilhemina squared her shoulders, raised her chin, built up her walls. She met your eyes and glared.

“You got what you wanted. Now leave before I feed you to the monsters outside.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but instead you burst into tears.

Your chin dropped to your chest and you sobbed, as Wilhemina stared at you in shock. She extended one hand towards you, hesitated, changed her mind. Her brow pushed up in confusion and concern as she waited for you to calm down, dying to touch and comfort you, but not daring to. She had lost you, after all. She hadn’t been enough.

Some people are just too fucked up to be loved, Elijah had said. She could hear his voice now as if he were saying it again, remembered his exact intonation, the way he had pronounced every syllable.

“It’s alright,” she tried after a little while. “He was right.”

“Who was right?” you sobbed, wiping your eyes.

“Elijah. I did the right thing for you.”

That made you burst into tears again. Except this time, you wrapped your arms around Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her close.

She stiffened against you, but you buried your face in her chest and held her tight and cried and cried at how blind you had been. Your heart broke, but this time it didn’t break for you. It broke for her. For how low her self-esteem was, how she had tried over and over again to be kinder and softer and yet had still been convinced loving her was a burden. Loving her had been the best thing in your whole goddamn life.

Tentatively, Wilhemina slipped one arm around your waist and rested her chin on top of your head.

“I’m gonna bring Elijah back from Hell and kill him,” you mumbled against her chest.

“But he didn’t do anything wrong,” Wilhemina replied. “He was right. All he did was love you so much he only wanted the best for you.”

You shook your head, wailing as Wilhemina brought her free hand up to your head and started stroking your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked. “I’m so sorry.”

Wilhemina’s fingers stuttered in your hair. “What for?” she asked, and you couldn’t see her face but you knew what her expression must be like right now, brow pushed up in confusion, eyes wide as she tried to think of something to say or do to help you calm down.

You sobbed against her chest and tightened your grip on her. “I’m so sorry he did this to you and I let him.”

“I don’t –“She paused, hesitated. “I don’t understand,” she breathed after a moment, which only made you cry harder.

You felt her body stiffen again. “No no no, please don’t cry,” she pleaded. Her hand hovered over your head, afraid to touch you now. “I’ll stop talking, I’m sorry, I’m going to shut up. But please don’t cry.”

You clung to her, clutching the back of her dress, wishing that you could… you didn’t really know what. Let her creep inside of you, let her nestle by your heart so the outside world could never hurt her ever again.

When you had calmed down enough to speak, you asked her what Elijah had told her exactly. You wanted to hear every word, so you could erase them from her brain and replace them with words of truth and love.

You had expected her to refuse, to shut down and keep silent. But to your utter surprise, she let out a shaky breath, pressed her cheek against your head, and started to speak.

It was barely a whisper, and at first she paused and hesitated every second or so; but then, words poured out of her, ashamed and painful. You closed your eyes against a fresh wave of tears as you listened.

It didn’t last long. When she was done, her whole body slackened and you tightened your grip on her, afraid she was going to collapse on the floor. She didn’t, though. She nuzzled your hair and sighed.

She hadn’t broken up with you because of you. She had done it for you. Or at least, she had thought so. And it made everything worse, for you had said hurtful things to her. Accused her of things that had never even crossed her mind. Rubbed salt on the wound.

Not your fault, said a voice in your head. You hadn’t known.

After a quiet moment had passed, you took a deep breath and pulled away. Wilhemina let out a faint noise of protest, but you cupped her face and locked eyes with her.

“Have you ever thought that, maybe,” you whispered, offering her a small, teary smile, “I’m the only one who can decide what and who’s enough for me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes widened a bit. You gave her another smile, then let go of her face and looked around the room.

“You said Elijah told you you could never be enough for me and you believed him,” you said, gathering unlit candles in your hands. “I know this kind of thoughts don’t go away easily. I know it takes time and work. But let me show you something.”

You came to a halt in front of Wilhemina and held out the lighter. She glanced at it, then met your eyes, frowning. You leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her mouth. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as you pulled away.

You smiled. “Let’s pretend these candles are my heart. Shush, let me finish. Sit down. Let me show you how you light up my heart.”

You set the first candle down on the bedside table. “Remember the day we met at the supermarket? I was blocking the aisle with my cart and you snapped at me. Told me my ass was too big for this world.” You chuckled softly at the memory. “My life was so boring before that day. I hadn’t realized it, but it lacked challenges, it lacked passion. It’s like my brain was asleep, and with just a few words, you awoke it.”

You flicked the lighter and lit the candle. The flame flickered, then grew. You glanced at Wilhemina, gave her a smile.

“Remember the first time we made love?” Wilhemina’s eyes were riveted on the burning candle. You bit your lower lip, set a second candle on the chest of drawers. “You were so nervous, and you tried to hide it, but Mina, honestly, I can tell you now, you weren’t very successful. You thought you would hurt me or not know how to pleasure me. Remember how many times you made me come that night? You’re a great lover, Mina. And you sure have talent in these fingers and tongue of yours,” you teased. Wilhemina’s eyes, wide and shining, flicked to you. “But do you know what you’re even better at? The way you take care of me after. The way you cannot seem to be able to stay away, how you always snuggle up to me and hold me and ask me if it was good.” You lit up the second candle.

You took a third one, put it on the floor by the door. “Remember my birthday?” you went on. “I’d spent the last one alone. You brought me breakfast in bed, bought me flowers and a cake.”

“I ruined your birthday cake,” Wilhemina whispered sadly.

You shook your head, flicking the lighter again. “But you bought it. For me. To celebrate me.”

You crossed to the other side of the room, set two candles on the vanity. “I don’t know if you’re even aware you did it, but you’d always fluff my pillow when you’d make our bed in the morning. You’d never fluff yours. Only mine.”

Wilhemina let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“It’s only one example of all the things you did that made me feel so loved. Like how you’d always buy pears even though you don’t like the taste of them, just because you knew I do. Or how you read the whole of War and Peace just because I said it’s one of my favorite books. That’s more than a thousand pages, Mina.” Your voice broke as your lips parted on a smile. “You didn’t even think it was that good. But you read the whole thing. Valentine’s Day. You said you hated Valentine’s Day. You bought me flowers and chocolates and tickets for Carmen. Front row center seats, Mina.”

You were crying again by now, but these tears were happy. You set the last candle by the bed. “You made sure I’d survive the Apocalypse. It was you, wasn’t it? I don’t know how you did it, but I’m sure it was you. I used to be mad at you for having saved me but left all my friends and family to die. But you saved me. Gave me another chance at life. Because you still cared about me.”

Wilhemina sniffed, wiped her nose on the back of her hand. You walked around the bed and took her hand.

The whole room was studded with bright, dancing dots of light, as if you had stuck your head into the night sky. Wilhemina’s hand was shaking, but she laced her fingers with yours and gave them a tight squeeze.

“So, you see,” you whispered, “see how bright you make my heart shine.”

A sob pushed out of Wilhemina’s throat. She wrapped her free arm around her waist, hugging herself as she cried. You leaned towards hers, bumping her shoulder with yours. For a while she didn’t move; then she, tentatively, laid her head on your shoulder. And then, as you did not protest, did not push her away, she slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you close.

Her hand cupped your face and her mouth crashed against yours as she sobbed and you sobbed and kissed her fervently back. How you had missed this. How you had missed her. One of your arms wrapped around her shoulders to press her closer still, tongue sliding inside her mouth. You were shaking, entirely too hot and so, so alive.

Something seemed to break loose inside Wilhemina. She let out a noise like a whimper, and suddenly she was crying over and over again “I’m so sorry” and “please” and “don’t go”. You pulled away slightly, cupped her face to make her look at you.

“I’m not leaving,” you whispered. “I forgive you.”

Her shoulders slumped with relief as another sob pushed up her throat. “But what about Mary?” she hiccupped.

You frowned, stroking her cheek. “What about Mary?”

“And what about the two Greys?” she went on, voice growing frantic and breathless. “What about the rules? I’ll hurt you again, I’ll hold you back, I’m too fucked up –“

“None of that,” you shushed her gently.

“But I –“

“No.” A kiss on her mouth, slow and sweet, meant to reassure. You tugged softly at her lip, and she moaned, dug her fingers into your skin. She let out a breath that went all the way down into your lungs, and sank into you.

After a moment, she rested her cheek on your shoulder and opened her eyes to look at all the lighted candles. You held her, stroking the nape of her neck, rubbing circles on her back.

The candles were burning. They lit up the room.

Tag list:  @sapphicsarahpaulson @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers   @coconutlipss ​ @saucy-sapphic​  @thesupremewife @coxmicbabygirl

[falsegoodnight]

a new header??? it matches better <3 these are the fics I read or reread and enjoyed this month! like last time, i’m separating it into different sections: main list, wips, and non-1d. rereads will be included in the main list and marked with a star (*). 

*note: this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 28th only

—

main list ~

✰ Don’t Wait Up by reliablyimperfect | NR | 1k

Without Harry’s warmth next to him, he felt the chill of the air creep over his skin. He tugged the blanket down from where Harry kept one draped over the back of the couch for him, grateful. With the blanket, he instantly felt warmer, but it backfired when his eyes began to droop again. Trying to keep his eyes open was impossible, and he was consciously aware of how long his blinks were becoming. They stay closed longer and longer until, eventually, they didn’t open again.

so soft and sweet and lovely! made my heart feel so warm <3 will return to this for some quick comfort in the future!

✰ my ugly mouth kept running by @hadestyles | E | 4k

Sometimes second chances are more important than the first.

rori’s lush writing + abo + exes to lovers = absolute perfection. my fic cameo gives it a bonus too :’) definitely one of my rori favs 

✰ i’ve loved you three summers now honey, i want them all by @softloubabie | M | 4k

The restaurant was small and bright, soft colors filled the walls and tables and fairy lights hung from everywhere. From what Harry had read, the food wasn’t overly expensive but it was still comparable to what you would get at one of the more expensive places. If Harry could he would take Louis to the biggest most expensive and extravagant restaurants to do what he planned to tonight, but this would do.

After being led to their table Harry nervously tapped his jacket pocket, sighing in relief when he felt the small box still there. Tonight was the night. He couldn’t wait till it was time to surprise Louis with all the gifts he got for him. Then finally the big surprise.

so cute and sweet! their kids were so adorable and the proposal so lovely!! they love each other so much <3

✰ love me in between the future and the past by navigator & quitter | E | 11k

Harry's scared of history repeating itself.

this honestly hurt to read but in such a raw and emotional way?? was mad at harry and then sad for him :( this writer duo’s fics never fail to amaze me!

✰ sunshine on my mind by @raspberryoatss | E | 13k

Louis visits Harry in Portland

this was so sweet and lovely! the perfect addition to this wonderful universe! pip’s characterizations and fluff never fails to make my heart feel warm <3

✰ rapture in the dark by @stylinsonsupporter | T | 13k

Harry Styles is a breakout musician who has shed his boyband label in favor of embracing his inner brooding rockstar. His PR team think that his rebrand is the perfect time for Harry to come out of the closet and have devised the perfect plan for doing so. Enter Louis Tomlinson, up and coming (and very openly homosexual) model whose public image as America's Sweetheart is the perfect foil for Harry's new edge. From a PR standpoint, it's a dream come true - a power couple that can slowly coax the public into accepting Harry's altered image. The only problem? They hate each other.

always love a good fake dating au and this is no exception! and model louis >> really enjoyed this!

✰ Maybe, Baby* by thoughtsickles | M | 16k | mpreg

It all feels too easy, too good to be true. It all feels like a scene from Louis' daydreams, the kind of life he'd always imagined he'd have when he was younger and bored at his momma's work, sneaking around the hallways of the maternity ward until the nurses let him in to hold the babies. He'd felt so important being allowed to touch them. He'd told them stories of the lives they were going to have, houses with nice wallpaper that wasn't peeling, yards filled with sunshine and flowers and grass that never went yellow. A hammock to nap in, cuddled up with his husband.

You can't stay here, he tells himself, but Baby doesn't want to listen.

have reread this one quite a bit of times now and it still makes me so happy <3 this Louis and Harry deserve the world <333

✰ Let Me Inside by reliablyimperfect | E | 18k

Louis is Harry’s boss, but Harry is the boss of Louis. 

loved this one! really enjoyed the balance between h&l and how they maintained their dynamic in subtle ways outside of the bedroom while also keeping it separate. very much enjoyed the jealousy as well <3

✰ a scintilla of predilection by @dehydratedpoolfics | T | 20k

There, in the far back of the room, next to the only available seat left, is none other than Harry Styles. Harry, who grew up next door to him, who knew all his secrets as a child and played FIFA with him on Saturday mornings after he would spend the night Friday evenings every week, whose curly hair would tickle his nose as they held each other during bitter cold nights that made his room glow a haunting blue.

love ex-childhood friends with misunderstandings!! louis was so cute and i loved his poetry <3 harry too was so stupid but so smitten and lovely :’) really enjoyed this!

✰ Keeping The Flame Alive by @crazyupsetter​ | E | 20k

Recording with One Direction never felt like this. There’s a couple reasons for that, Harry thinks. One is that they did most of their recording on the road, rushed and in busses and hotel rooms, never in one place long enough to really get an argument going. The other, larger and more important one, is that back then he had the sweetest, meanest little omega around to distract him from all of that frustration.

The first time around, when he’d been recording his debut solo album, it hit him pretty hard. He likes to think he’s better adjusted to it now, but frustration is warring under his skin nonetheless. He doesn’t want to be told what to do most of the time, and he especially doesn’t want to be told what to do when it comes to his music.

What he does want right now is that sweet, mean little omega right in front of him with his mouth on Harry’s cock. Unfortunately, the best he’s got is his own hand and a shared toilet. So. That’s really not going to work.

✰ like it’s a game* by @soldouthaz | E | 32k

There is little Harry hates more than truth or dare.

And Louis.

queen of enemies to lovers! it’s been a while since i’ve reread this but too absolutely no surprise, it’s just as amazing as always <3 sarah never misses!

✰ Too Young To Know by @2tiedships2 | M | 35k

Harry doesn’t present as an alpha… until he does.

really enjoyed this as per usual! exes to lovers is my jam and the added angst of Louis dating someone else at the beginning... love <3

✰ Some Things Take Root* by  navigator & quitter | E | 50k

Louis' ex doesn't get jealous of anyone besides Harry. Harry helps Louis use that to his advantage.

stumbled upon this randomly and decided to reread on a whim... ended up staying up to read it in one sitting! so good!

✰ Safe and Sound (You’ll Always Be) by @all-these-larrythings | E | 58k

When a failed case and a guilty conscience leaves Harry more than a little lost, his boss presents him with a new, less taxing assignment to help him cope. An escape from all the madness is just what Harry needs to get his life back on track. It's just too bad his new client has a grin like the devil, a pair of electric eyes that Harry simply can't get over, and no intention whatsoever of letting him catch a break.

i don’t know how i’ve never read this before??? it was absolutely amazing though! perfect blend of humor and fluff and tension and angst <3

✰ Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) by @youreyesonlarry | E | 74k

It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day. 

the slow burn in this fic killed me - which is to say, it was perfect! loved how they progressed from working together to being friends to something more and how much they genuinely cared for each other! the hockey was so fun too!

✰ Call Out My Name by frenchkiss | E | 102k

Apparently, it's bad PR to fall in love with the omega you hired to help you through your rut.

Harry Styles begs to differ.

ellen truly knocked it out of the park with this one!! had everything i could ever want: abo, famous/non-famous, fluff, humor, angst, drama, and more! i loved it from beginning to end!

wips ~

✰ ‘cause all our tomorrows lead the way by @loubellies | E | 64k | 7/11

So maybe Louis’ in over his head.

He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.

am thoroughly enjoying each chapter!! it’s been a wild ride so far and although things are currently calm, i am still on edge!! but i trust mar with my life <3

✰ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by @lwtisloved | E | 83k | 8/16 

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

caught up last night! still really enjoying every chapter and can’t wait to see what happens next!! things are *happening* with h&l and answers are being given!! (love the jealousy too!)

non-1d ~

✰ Keep Me Close (I Need Your Faith) by @princelouisau | E | 23k

Somewhere along the way he had fallen in love and in doing so, had broken the one rule he knew he couldn’t come back from. As quickly as he realised, he decided that he must never dare speak it. He resigned himself to loving Draco in silence.

first foray into reading drarry... and, to no one’s surprise, i loved it! beautiful writing as always and beautiful atmosphere! it’s really not a shock that i fell for these characters and their story when danielle is behind it <3 it had me entranced from beginning to end!!

finally, i myself actually posted a fic this month:

my fics ~

✰ yesterday came suddenly by me | E | 49k | mpreg 

Harry the deadliest member of the NYC assassins’ guild, is forced to face a seemingly impossible task in hopes of finally leaving the underground behind for good, but when ghosts from the past come back to haunt him, escaping the darkness becomes that much harder.

If you read any of these beautiful works of art, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!