#i had a knee jerk fuck her and wishing something bad but

[kisses4kaia]

patrick likes his girls mean!! he loves the stuck up, entitled, princesses who demand their every need be catered to. so when he meets you, all designer rackets and chanel sponsorships, he’s gotta bite.

you’d heard of patrick, of course. whom of your peers hadn’t? the effervescent tennis prodigy with a blinding career practically inscribed in his fates.

you couldn’t lie, learning about his reputation as not only a tennis god, but as a sex one, too… you had to bite.

hell if you were going to make the first move, though. that was quite literally never happening, and so you bided your time.

luckily for you, patrick was rather impatient—much differently to yourself—and would never miss the opportunity to make his way towards you at one of your dad’s events at your exorbitant, cherrywood-littered, home.

“that’s your third glass of champagne.” his voice startled from behind you. you swiveled on your heels to face the owner of such a bold tenor. “excuse me?”

patrick smiled to himself, nodding towards your glass. “tough night?” he’s suave, a large, single, step and he’s right next to you.

about to spit at him the meanest offended verbiage you could offer, your eyes found themselves catching onto his broad shoulders, and then practically raving all over his figure. his forearms, worked and muscled, were cut off from your view at the wrists, hands shoved deep into his pockets. there was a shock of dark, gelled, curls on his head, pairing dangerously fine with the honest and abyssal ultramarine of his eyes.

“you gonna keep checking me out or are you gonna answer my question?” he wore a stupid, smug smirk that had you scoffing. “sorry, do i know you?” you wished you could have looked down at him when saying this, but even with your heavy platform versace heels, you still had to crane your head to meet his eyes.

and of course, your question was redundant, but from the sounds of him thus far, he could do with a little ego death.

“patrick, zweig. i play tennis. and you do, too, don’t you?” he knew the answer to that question and he knew exactly who you were, because your father’s foundation that this very event was being held for, was titled in your name. “oh, that’s right. yeah, your parents were, i think.. third place at last year’s st. jude’s fundraiser?” his face twisted up in shame so satisfactorily, you had to physically bite back an evil giggle of victory. “well, patrick. it was really nice talking—“

“i’ve got something stronger than champagne in my car.” his tone was flat, practically monotonous, but his words had an implication of sheer fun, and who were you to skip out on that?

so, here you were, orange vodka bottle in your right hand as you jerked a whining patrick off with your left. “god, you’re so fucking pent up. what is it, tennis? or is it that no girl wants to fuck you, so you haven’t blown a decent load since back at school?”

ooh, he would tell it to you so straight, spit out evidence-backed statements of how easy it was to get a pretty girl on her knees for him whenever he wanted, he would. he would, if his mind wasn’t so fogged up with the pleasure, and the drinks, and mostly you. you you you.

“fuck—t’s so good, so good. please, i wanna cum, wanna cum,” he’d plead through the thick steam growing in the increasingly too-small cockpit of his car.

“how bad?” nipping at his ear, you were waiting to hear him beg, and he was waiting to swallow his mass of pride enough to get it out. “so bad, really fucking bad. i need it, need you, fuck. shit—please, need it so much,” he was so convincing, and it would’ve swayed a kinder soul, but then again, patrick likes his girls mean.

“no.” with your hand lost on his stupidly bricked length, patrick groaned, and bitched, and whined, and complained about how unfair you were being, and how he’d never do that to you, and blah blah blah. “well, i can’t say i care, so. maybe i’ll see you later. bye, patrick,” your fingers twinkled goodbye in a wave, and you were out of the vehicle and back inside the party without another word.

it wasn’t over then, of course not, and you knew it. thus, it came as no shocker when an unknown number randomly applepays you $1000 in the middle of the night, along with a text that reads as follows.

had a great time. hope we run into each other again sometime soon. and, don’t spend it all in once place, yeah? - 💸

[bunnypeew]

One drink too much - Lucifer x fem!reader x Alastor NSFW

sorry I am writing this supeeeer late but I have been busy with school and also i broke up with my bf recently so its been kinda shit lol

yet another party for a new guest had begun and everyone was having fun in their own groups:

Charlie and Vaggie were the party managers so they were the most sobered up of the bunch

Angel, Husk and Cheeri were doing shots by the bar

Sir Pentious was trying to keep Nifty out of trouble

while Alastor and Lucifer were trying to keep Y/n from drinking too much and it wasn't working very well since she could do the sweetest doe eyes ever and both couldn't resist saying no to that face so she had a lot to drink already, wobbling around on the dance floor pulling both of them with her. All three of them started dancing to a swing song. Y/n was stumbling a lot on her heels so she took them off getting a reaction from both Al and Luci seeing her being a little bit shorter, was kinda cute to them.

''okay honey I think that's enough for you tonight,,

Lucifer says grabbing her by her wrist and waist and trying to pull her towards him, Alastor was making sure she didn’t trip on her feet

“he’s quite right dearest, we let you have your fun,,

with that they both tried to get her off the dance floor and into a couch or something but she kept refusing to it wasn’t until she started shouting random things that they got really concerned

“mon cheri, what are you doing,,

says Alastor, strained smile on his face now but still keeping his composure from her nonsense shouting until she said one phrase that left both men in a state of mind

“MAN I JUST WANT BOTH OF YOU TO FUCK ME,,

silence from everyone in the room. Suddenly there is a mix of gold and black in the air surrounding the three of them making them appear in y/n’s room

“what the fuck just happened,,

Lucifer whispers with Y/n waist still in one of his hands while the other is now in his hair, Alastor in the meantime picked her up and slammed her on the bed as to make her go bed

“mon ange, you know we love you but, you are very much intoxicated and we wouldn’t want to-,,

he gets interrupted by one of her hands wondering up his pants

“i’m pretty sober you know,,

she said stroking him now, making him whine out loud. Lucifer in the meantime was just watching sat down on a chair, hand still in his hair while the other one was unbuttoning his jacket

“she’s right, a little fun wouldn’t be bad,,

luci says looking up and spreading his legs, getting comfortable in the chair. Alastor’s deer ear were flat on his head, snarling a little bit at this sudden contact with Y/n hand

He didn’t argue tho, instead he slammed himself on the bed on top of her, claws digging in one of her thighs while the other was keeping himself up

“alright then as you wish, but do keep in mind i’m not gonna be gentle, love,,

and with that, he tears off her dress leaving her only in her soaked panties

with that Lucifer perked up, now unzipping his pants and coming closer to them on the bed. Alastor was playing with the brim of her panties now with his free hand making her quiver under his touch, finally, he slipped in two fingers pumping at a normal speed at first, then picking up the pace. Y/n puts a hand around the one he's using to please her to make it go in deeper and feel things better, in the meantime, Lucifer started jerking himself off, caressing her beautiful hair while she was getting pleased, moans and whines coming out her mouth

At some point, after pleasing her enough to reach her climax Alastor flips her over and puts her in doggy style giving Lucifer the chance to put himself in front of her face on his knees, his cock near her mouth pressing on her lips to enter. Alastor on the other side was already inside and thrusting at a very fast pace, claws digging into her thighs

Lucifer was finally inside too, hands in her hair pulling slightly and thrusting forward for more and like that they both went until they reached their climax, thrusting forward faster and roughly finally finishing in her, Alastor's claws drawing blood from her thighs, dripping down her leg

Alastor immediately stops what he is doing making sure he didn't badly hurt her, kissing where he drew blood, putting her panties back on and tucking him, luci and her under the covers for a cuddle sesh

I know this is short and plain but this is all I can get out at the moment!! I hope you enjoy it tho <;3 @maenoakasuna thank you for the request lovely :3c

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Part III

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

III. Just what the world needs, Another Fucking Sunset Wedding

It’s almost sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Frank had been waiting for you to catch the shuttle to the wedding venue, dallying in the lobby pretending to look at an atrocious modern art print while keeping one eye on the hallway.

“You look nice,” he grumbles, taking in your white A-line sundress printed with big red roses.

“Thanks,” you say, admiring his navy blue suit unabashedly, since he brought it up first. “You look very handsome.”

This makes him stand up a little straighter, clearly not sure how to take the compliment, but you dare to think, he liked it.

When the shuttle drops you off at the base of the vineyard you look up the steep hill planted with curling grape vines in their nice neat rows with a sense of dread.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I am not wearing the right shoes for this.”

He looks down at your platform heels. “It said in the itinerary you’d have to walk up a hill.”

“Ok, but what was I supposed to wear? Hiking boots? The unfair standards of women’s dress clothes don’t allow for that.”

He holds out a hand, albeit begrudgingly. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

“I swear, these shoes are actually usually the sensible option.”

“Sure they are. Wearing anything that elevates your feet four inches off the ground is a sensible option.”

You sigh, and take his hand, trying to ignore the thrill running through your bones as you feel the strength in his fingers and his arm, as he helps propel you up the incline.

“I can’t believe they don’t have…stairs, or something? Did the old people have to do this?”

“Presumably not.”

“Then what the fuck?”

“Quite.”

Men’s dress shoes aren’t exactly made for rough terrain either, and at one point you both almost slip, clutching each other in a bid not to tumble back down the hill. It’s…nice, you have to admit, to be held close by this man.

He looks at you with wide eyes, for a moment for all the world appearing as though he’s drowning, before that thunderous frown appears. “Fuck this.”

You yip with surprise as he sweeps you up into his arms, and marches determinedly the rest of the way up the hill. Before you can even think about taking it as a romantic gesture, he practically drops you back to your feet at the top, releasing you as though you’d burned him.

You sit together in the back, as usual, though Frank very pointedly crosses his arms and is careful to keep a respectable amount of distance between you.

That shouldn’t make you feel sad, but it does.

The excruciatingly drawn-out bullshit Reception

“I used to like this song,” you muse, watching the dancers on the floor with an odd mixture of wistfulness and distaste. Keith dips his new bride, and a mean little part of you really wishes he would drop her.

“Do you…want to dance?”

Frank could have knocked you over with a feather, after how he’d behaved earlier. It definitely colors your answer, the knee-jerk impulse to push him away too.

“I said I used to like it.”

“Fine.”

Then, of course, you feel bad. And maybe you feel…a sliver of hope, however stupid.

“Why, do you want to dance?”

“Of course I don’t want to dance. It’s moronic and ridiculous. No one wants to fucking dance.” There is more venom in this statement, than perhaps the situation calls for.

After a moment, a bit softer and with a hint of apology, he qualifies, “I just thought it might take your mind off things.”

If you looked miserable, it’s ironic that for once, Keith was not the cause of it.

Perhaps this should send you running in the opposite direction too.

“Do you want to take a walk?” you ask instead.

He looks pointedly down at your questionable footwear, but you point at the basket behind you bearing what are professed by a whimsically written sign: Walking Shoes. They’re some kind of slide on deal that will do in a pinch. Honestly you’re willing to go bare foot, if it gets you out of that tent.

The meandering and pointless Walk

“You know, I was actually diagnosed with PTSD after the whole Keith thing?”

Frank snorts at that, the farthest reaction from sympathy he can manage. “Rich people’s PTSD.”

“I’m not rich.”

“Fine. Privileged.”

That’s probably true. Goddammit.

“Well…am I not allowed to have problems?”

“Sure, just no one wants to hear about them. Anyone who doesn’t have to worry about food, housing, or getting shot by the police should just keep it to themselves.”

“That’s not very healthy.”

He shrugs. “It’s not just you. No one should care about my problems either.”

“What if I care?”

He snorts. “Then I will feel even sorrier for you than I already do.”

“Ok, fine. Maybe not me specifically. But what if…say, you find someone else you actually like. Isn’t it ok to talk about your problems with friends?”

“Isn’t that a terrible thing to do to someone you like? Making friends or a significant other listen to your problems for free, when you should be paying a shrink for it?”

“It’s just a thing people do who are close to each other. They talk.”

“People who aren’t close too, apparently.” He says all this with a surprising amount of cheer in his tone, either enjoying himself, or the walk, or the view…or maybe even your company.  

He changes the subject as you round a bend. “So, are you glad you came to this thing? You made your show of strength, you’ve got your closure now that the knot is tied and they’re legally bound to be miserable together, and you’ve fled the scene with his half-brother, whom he despises, which the family surely will gossip about. You could almost chalk it as a win, if you squint just right.”

You huff, breathing a little heavy as you walk up a hill on the ridge the path follows. It truly is beautiful in the backcountry of the vineyard, rolling mountains planted with nice neat rows of green vines.

He makes a good point, but strangely…you don’t feel satisfied. “I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m not sure how I feel,” you admit, pausing to incline your head up at him. He pauses too, looking down that straight nose at you, and he is standing very close. You fancy you sense him tense, as though about to take some great leap, and he looks at your mouth with something like consternation, when a god-awful yowling roar travels down the path at you.

You both turn to see a very big, very unhappy cat displaying its impressively large and sharp canines at you.

“What the fuck is that?”

“I think it’s a mountain lion.”

“What the fuck do we do?”

“I don’t know. We’re too far away, no one will hear us scream.”

“Is it a bobcat?”

“It’s not a fucking bobcat. Look at the tail.”

“You should run. It’s going to eat me anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m smaller and slower.”

“I wouldn’t presume about the last part.”

It roars again, and you clutch at his arm.

Suddenly Frank charges the thing, making that god-awful hissing sound from earlier with his finger in his ear. They both sound like demons from hell, and with shock you watch as the predator backs away.

“Now, we run,” says Frank, grabbing your hand and booking it down the hill.

You run what feels like a long way. Your legs are burning, and the stupid little slide-ons are not made for athletic activity. And the thing about running downhill is…sometimes gravity gets the best of you. Like now, when you trip over a rock, and take Frank with you. Suddenly you are both tumbling down a steep grassy incline, locked together in a death roll.

“Fuck!”

“Fuck!”

“Fuck!”

“Fuck!”

When at last you come to a stop you are utterly stunned. “Y/n?”

You just lie there, unable to move.

“Y/n?”

Are you even alive?

Suddenly, Frank grabs your arm, hauling you around. “Ah!”

He looks…so worried, that if he hadn’t wrenched your back, you would have been touched.

“I’m fine! Jesus!”

“Ok. Sorry.”

You lie there for another moment looking up at him. He has grass in his hair; it’s endearing somehow, seeing this put-together grouch of a man just a little undone.

“You saved me,” you tease, sitting up beside him.

“I saved us.”

“Yeah right. It would have eaten me anyway. Why’d you save me?”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Just trying to spare myself the guilt.”

He reaches up to pluck grass out of your hair. His light touch gives you a thrill down your spine. Again, you are aware that you are very close, and his dark eyes have gone wide again, that slightly panicked look he gets. His gaze flicks to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and you are completely taken by surprise when he grabs the back of your head and pulls you swiftly into a hard kiss.

He retreats from it just as quickly, and now he does look like he’s seen a ghost. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“I—”

Before you can say anything he’s grabbed you again, and this kiss is less forceful, though maybe no less desperate. You’re able to reach up to cup his cheeks before he shoves you away again, this time hard enough that you topple back in the grass.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” he pants again, looking for all the world like a horse that would like to bolt. “I don’t—it’s been a long time. Heat of the moment. Near death experience. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“How long?” you ask, incredulous. Because, this man is so…so. Fucking. Good looking. How has he not been with anyone?

He scowls at the grass. “I don’t think I’ve felt real pleasure since 2006.”

This admission makes your eyes go wide. You sincerely hope he’s exaggerating, but then again, the way he behaves towards people…maybe he’s not.

“It’s just…” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “If it all sucks, then fuck it, but if it doesn’t? Then there’s so much pressure.”

A part of you wants to snark at him. Well well well, welcome to the human race at last. But another part of you…another part of you just wants to kiss him senseless and fuck him silly, and make him feel all the things you’ve both been missing out on because he’s been such a goddamned coward this whole time and you’re not much better.

 Maybe he reads the pity on your face, because he feels the need to defend, “Not that I haven’t been with anyone. Just…”

“You weren’t that into it?”

He looks away, glaring at the world again. “Yeah.”

“It’s been a while for me too,” you admit.

“Please don’t say it was Keith,” he snarks. “I’ll kill myself.”

You laugh. “No, your brother was incredibly, monumentally selfish in bed. I literally could have had better sex with a lamppost.”

He looks at you sideways. “That really shouldn’t make me as happy as it does.”

Your lips twist as you try not to smile. Frank, however, is back to frowning at the vineyards again. “We can’t have sex right now. I don’t have any protection. It would be irresponsible.”

You’re a little amused, that his brain has leapt immediately to sex, while you are sitting in the dry grass together. Apparently just kissing was not enough—or maybe he’s been thinking about it for a while. You’d be a liar, if you said you haven’t.

“What if I said you’re in luck?”

“I would say that’s highly improbable.”

You feel bold enough to cup his cheek, bringing his attention back to you. It doesn’t take much persuading this time, when you press your lips to his. He kisses you back, his fingers digging into your ribcage, and you’re not really sure who’s more desperate to feel alive after defying death at the claws of a tiger or whatever the fuck that thing had been.

“That’s not helping,” he pants when you part.

“Why? Are you actually into it?”

He pulls you closer with hands on your waist. “Pretty into it,” he admits begrudgingly. You smile against his mouth, suddenly feeling electrified from head to toe. The colors of the world around you seem brighter, somehow. You take him by surprise when suddenly you straddle his waist, perching on his legs and pushing him back down into the grass, your pretty skirts spread around you.

“What—”

You unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, freeing him to the desert air. “Oh…” When you bend over to lick his tip and take him into your mouth you get an even more emphatic, “Oh…”

“What about now?” you ask him as you withdraw with a pop.

He blinks, for the first time since you’ve met, speechless. At least, for a few long moments.

“I think I’d like to be inside you.”

“How’s your health?”

“Fair to middling, for a man my age.” You give him a look, and damn if he doesn’t soften for you, even if just for a fleeting second. “Clean,” he answers quietly. “You?”

“Clean. And fully armed with IUD.”

He blinks. “Like they use to blow up humvees in the Middle East?”

You laugh, throwing your head back, your curls bouncing around your shoulders. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time. “Like, an intrauterine-device?”

“That definitely makes more sense.”

“Well?”

You watch as he licks his fingers, reaching under your dress to push your panties aside and find your center. The saliva is appreciated but not necessary. You are drenched, and his big fingers rubbing your clit feel like magic. “Is all that for me?” He sounds genuinely surprised, like this was a gift from the universe he did not expect to receive. Usually it’s more inclined to deliver a kick to the balls.

“Who else would it be for? The lynx?” He snorts, and in a softer tone you confess, “I have been a wet little mess for you since…the moment we started arguing in the airport.” He blinks at this, dumbstruck for a moment, before kissing you with an edge of desperation you both feel keenly in your bones.

He guides you onto him with his big hands on your buttocks. That feels like magic too, his thick tip at your entrance sinking in. It’s your turn to say, “Oh,” with your head thrown back, his big cock sliding deeper and deeper inside you, until he’s filled you to the hilt. For a moment you just sit like that together, joined, wrapped up in each other’s arms. It’s wonderful.

You imagine how ridiculous you must look, to an outsider looking in. Two people tangled in the dirt, grass in your hair, dust all over your nice clothes. You giggle a little to yourself.

“Something funny?”

“Just…do you ever think about how silly humans look, doing the things we do?”

“All the time.”

You laugh joyously, but you feel him withdrawing from you, that subtle tension returned in his limbs. You realize he thinks you’re making fun of him. It’s like this man expects he’ll have to defend himself from the world at any given moment. Then, from what he’s told you about his life, you guess he has. You don’t let him get too far, pulling him closer. “But fuck it feels glorious. I don’t care. Fuck me, Frank. I need you.”

 You feel him relax, and maybe even surrender. He moves for you, and you with him, his thumb on your button and his mouth on your neck as you ride him out…it’s the fastest you’ve ever orgasmed, with another person involved, that shining pleasure ambushing you in the cradle of your hips and spreading outwards. It’s almost embarrassing, except he’s right behind you, holding you almost desperately with arms locked around your waist, his face buried in the bend of your neck. Neither of you are quiet about it, your yells echoing across the empty hills.

“Oh my god…” you pant, resting your forehead against his.

“Can’t say…I believe much in god,” he informs you, out of breath.

“Me neither,” you admit. “But that was fucking fantastic.”

“Yeah. That was pretty damn good.” He sounds so surprised about it.

He kisses you, more softly this time. There is a long moment of eye contact between you; it is vulnerable, and electric, and raw. He is the first to look away, almost flinchingly. Then he focuses on the business of disentangling yourselves.

“I’m afraid we’re about to make a huge mess.”

“You don’t have a handkerchief?”

“What am I, a nineteenth century dandy?”

“Okay, relax, Romeo. I’ve got it.”

You rather cleverly, if you don’t say so yourself, use the petticoat of your dress to avoid staining his trousers as you uncouple, in a way that won’t leave you an embarrassing mess when you return to the tent either.

“I like that dress even more now,” he quips, looking at you with something almost akin to tenderness as you right yourselves. He reaches up to pull another sprig of straw out of your hair with a smirk.

“Frank…” You’re not really sure what you want to say. There’s a pent up ball of something in your chest, and it kind of actually hurts, and you’re not sure you like it at all.

“No,” he answers resolutely, but he cranes his neck down to kiss you anyway. “Want to go back to my room?”

“Yes.”

TBC...

-----------------

ahhhhh I didn't have the courage to make it as awkward as the movie 🤣🤣🤣 but I feel like I need to make a note here bc i'm always writing wildly irresponsible sex practices: always use protection with a new partner. It's just a good idea. And ALWAYS use some kind of birth control, or you WILL get pregnant. mother nature is a bitch.

[im-dehydrated05]

I need help from all the resident lover people because I usually love everyone else’s work, but I really harshly criticize mine, so can you guys tell me if this is good? Should I continue this? Idk man. The Oc takes MC place so yeah…

To Break Away From Fate

This is an OC x RL Story

Something's wrong...

Something's terribly wrong.

I keep remembering — I keep remembering.

My heart has no pity on me.

I hurt them.

I hurt them because I chose them.

What happened? How did this happen? I only thought it was a joke. I thought that Bella had finally gone mad from all the stress and work she did.

I just wanted to help.

I didn't believe in it. In the loops, the school being a cult, but then I started to remember the other time lines and all the outcomes. I felt sick; I didn't want this, but fate didn't give you a choice.

SHE didn't give you a choice.

Miranda: "We belong together, don't you understand? It doesn't matter how many times you resist me or how many times I have to restart. The loop will only stop when you are who you are meant to be. When you finally come back to me, that is what fate has planned for us."

I almost laughed at her words, "When you are who you are meant to be," after I chose her. She wants me to change completely to be like the ghost of her lover.

I finally chose her.

I chose her so many times, and yet...

YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH...

And suddenly, all that sadness turned to ANGER.

"I don't give a fuck about your Fate."

I clenched my fists so tightly that I felt like I might draw blood from my palms with my nails.

I almost wish I did.

You deserved it.

"They didn't deserve that, and you know that. I'll never be that woman you fell in love with, and you know it."

And just like that, the facade Miranda had been putting up shattered in an instant. Once she discovered that it wasn't 'me', her face immediately turned cold. She made her way toward me.

Miranda: "I see... this loop seems to be another failure."

I backed away from her, a startled look on my face as I looked around her office. I knew what those words meant, and I knew exactly what came next, but where was she—

?: "That's too bad. I was finally starting to like this version of you."

A deep voice behind me said. There was an ease in her tone, like she was amused by the boldness of my words. As if she had been here the whole time.

My breath hissed as I turned slowly, thinking maybe I could talk my way out of this. If she kills me...

I don't want to forget everything.

You'll forget.

Rᴜɴ

Tᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʀᴇsᴛ...

sᴀғᴇ

"What the hell?"

My vision became blurry as a strange voice called out to me. My mind dissociated, seeing a vision of a small lake surrounded by trees.

Tʜᴇ ғᴏʀᴇsᴛ

I groaned, my vision finally coming back. Mia's knife was the first thing I saw as she swung it at me. My body jerked back as my hand grabbed onto the blade, pulling Mia towards me before I delivered a kick to her stomach, knocking the air out of her. I didn't even feel the blood running down my palm as the adrenaline built up in my body.

Rᴜɴ

An exit I need to get out of here, but Miranda and Mia were blocking the only door, so I did what any person under the influence of adrenaline would do... I jumped out the window, but not before getting attacked by Cornelius, who scratched my face, leaving a nasty cut on my cheek. I smacked him away, finally jumping out of the office and sprinting towards the forest. My body moved on its own, taking several turns before it finally stopped. I hunched over, catching my breath, and looking around.

It was the lake—the lake I saw before.

A feeling of comfort and safety overwhelmed me as I walked closer to the lake. I tilted my head, looking at my reflection in the water. My tired self could only manage to lift my eyebrows in surprise, my expression shifting to a frown as I got on my knees to get a better look at my reflection.

It was me.

Yeah, no shit... but my clothes looked different—a 1960s type of style.

"What?"

I reached my hand toward my reflection. My hand touched the water, dyeing the water red. I hissed at the pain, finally feeling the wounds that were inflicted on me. My hand didn't pass the surface of the water, leaving me confused until my reflection smiled softly at me. My soul almost left my body as I jumped back.

"What the fuck!"

It was quiet for a second before I heard a merry laugh coming from the lake.

"Wᴇʟʟ, ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴏ."

I didn't dare to move at this point, questioning if I was going insane... already.

"Hᴇʟʟᴏ, ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ?"

Okey, so I have officially gone insane.

I let out a shaky sigh before standing up and wobbling back to the lake, feeling dizzy. My reflection tilted her head, a frown on her face.

"Yᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ."

I nodded very carelessly, the words not really processing in my head. I felt a cold sensation all over my body, my muscles aching as I lay down next to the lake, trying to listen to whatever my reflection was saying.

"Sᴏ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟ, I'ᴍ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ, ᴡᴇʟʟ, ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ. I'ᴍ ᴀ ᴘᴀsᴛ sᴘɪʀɪᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛʟʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ sᴏᴜʟ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ I'ᴍ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ—"

I steadied my breath, feeling like I was having difficulty breathing, and closed my eyes when my vision was going black on the edges.

"Sᴏ I ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪs Bᴜᴅʀɪᴏʟɪ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀɴᴄᴇsᴛᴏʀs ᴡᴇʀᴇ—"

The sound of pounding blocked the voice speaking to me, and I could hear my heart slowly stopping before everything was quiet.

It was quite, still, so peaceful...

Until a voice broke the peaceful silence and another and another. They're here again. Too many voices. Too many memories. They all overlapped over one another, and then... they started to make sense.

"...Eva!!"

"We'll bring her back..."

"—choose you every time-"

"Romeo-"

"—star.."

"...worried about you-"

"—wait in the car for me—"

"...no matter where we go-"

"—roses look good on you..."

"you were going to leave-"

"...Italian will do won't it?"

"—I won't let you go..."

"...believe me..."

"—love and be loved."

"—doesn't matter how many times I have to do this, who you go to, what you do, I will reset this as many times as I fucking HAVE TO!

*beep*

*beep*

*beep*

Drenched in sweat and with a racing heart, Aurora jolted up, finally waking up. She looked around the room, a sigh leaving her lips as she noticed she was in her dorm room.

.

.

.

Wait a minute. Shouldn't she be back with her friends in the apartment? She shouldn't be at the university yet.

"What the hell is going on?"

[drdemonprince]

That ask about small talk and fear reminded me: a few days ago my partner and I were at our local café. I went to use the restroom and found the toilet seemingly backed up, so went and told a worker since I didn't want to try using it and then make it worse. A random guy who'd been there for a while came over and said "Want me to take a look at it?" We all thought it was Weird and Creepy but he genuinely just wanted to help, and managed to fix it! It was great! He was just a kind stranger wanting to help. And as we left later it hit me how sad it is that fear was our initial reaction. I wish I would've thanked the guy instead of being awkwardly frozen. But it also gave me a little hope and a reminder that most people are just like me, just a person trying to enjoy the life we have and be nice to others.

Yes, I really do believe that if we are invested in mad pride and disabled liberation at all, we gotta take that initial knee-jerk reaction of "this person is weird" or "this behavior is breaking unspoken social scripts" and throw it into the fucking garbage.

No one is a bad person for feeling wary in that way, it is a socially conditioned response -- but it is very dangerous. It's the same kind of thing that leads to people covering their homes in security cameras and calling the cops on children knocking on their neighbor's doors in search of their missing cat. You probably would never do anything of that nature, of course! But it's all part of the same social ideology. And that ideology keeps you isolated and less likely to seek help -- it doesn't keep any of us safe.

Personally I LOVE talking to fucking WEIRD PEOPLE. I spent an hour this summer at a picnic table talking to a tweaked out guy covered in facial tattoos and scales about my aura and the psychic journey he was on and shit. It turns out that he was a trans woman in the 1980s but he didn't have the language for it! He was drawn to me because he could tell I was gender-weird too, and because he said I had a very open looking soul. I could scoff at that or I could be afraid of him, but why??? He was fucking cool! he had a ton of fascinating life experiences and is friends with a lot of the other people I see on the streets in my neighborhood. Turned out we were both Aries' and we talked about that a ton too.

I also met a guy in a dusty old cowboy hat in the park by Loyola beach who told me he is the official 'patriarch of the park' and gets to decide who he allows to pick up litter there. He pointed to a very clean-cut white woman stabbing at trash with a stick and a needle and told me that he had given her personal clearance to clean up "his" park. She might seem like a fussy white suburban type lady, he conveyed, but she was interested in making the space better for everyone and wasn't doing any Kareny shit, so she was welcome.

Last weekend I was going to a free concert in Ping Tom Park and edgy 19 year old punk kids danced next to 70 year old Chinese retirees and middle-aged yuppie parents and their toddlers and homeless people and 50 something Mexican old head techno fans and it was the loveliest fucking thing in the world. A guy up the street from the park was selling dozens of old back packs and coats and electronics on his front lawn and I dug through them and chatted before getting there.

Living in a city and spending a lot of time outside, I meet people like that a lot, and my life is immeasurably enriched by it. It makes me sick and sad that so many human beings never get to talk to strangers like this, recoil from homeless people or people on drugs, and fear any stranger's intrusion into their life. I think even a lot of left leaning, queer people harbor these reactions and chalk them up to things like "being afraid of men" or "being afraid of straight people" and we even promote that kind of thinking within our communities at times. I find it very damaging. Some of the most wholesome experiences in my life have been random nice/warm things cishet men on the street have done for me.

[beegoould]

Recently my therapist dropped something on me that is hard for me to wrap my head around. We’ve started talking through my issues with food and eating, and after a couple sessions she said “I think you may have a form of anorexia” And I’m like “You may not have noticed this but I weigh 250 pounds” and she was like “nah dog, you don’t have to be underweight to have it” and this made NO SENSE to me. And I said “I don’t have the willpower or the strength to be anorexic” which made me stop and think, and made her raise an eyebrow.

I realized in that moment that there had been times in my life when I was jealous of people with this devastating, potentially deadly illness. I felt like they had an ability I knew I would never have. And that’s a super fucked up way to think about it.

We talked through it and she told me that my periods of obsessive calorie counting, punishing myself for eating foods I felt were off limits, measuring things to the ounce, and thinking about food pretty much all the time was the issue. The first time she brought this up was when I told her I used to berate myself for eating something I shouldn’t have when I actually hadn’t eaten it, I’d just thought about eating it. Also when I was drinking too much I would plan my day around it, making sure I had an empty stomach and weighing what I drank on a kitchen scale. And I did research to find out what alcohol had the least calories with the highest abv.

So she tells me she thinks I have atypical anorexia. I still have the obsessive thoughts, but I don’t follow any self imposed restrictions. I still think about them, I just got too tired to keep following them. I still punish myself for eating “bad” foods.

We’re going to continue talking through this and navigate it, hopefully find ways to change some of my thoughts and behaviors. I’m still surprised at myself for my initial knee jerk response of thinking that it’s just like me to have this disorder but still be overweight. That’s not me anymore. I felt that way when I was a kid up to my 30’s, that being overweight made me useless and less than. I don’t feel that way now, but I guess it’s hardwired into my brain at a subconscious level.

To be clear, I have never had negative thoughts about people I knew or met who were overweight. They were different. I was the problem, no one else.

I wanted to share this because I’d never heard of it before, and while it’s not life changing to know this is a thing, it is helping me understand myself and some of my behaviors in a way that I haven’t before. It is also helping me be kinder to myself, at least a little.

I hope this post wasn’t upsetting or painful for anyone. This is just me sharing my experience and thoughts, I don’t know much about this topic and I’m probably shitty in a lot of ways as I’m writing about this since I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m sorry about that. I’m going to tag the fuck out of this.

Anyway. My wish for all of you is that you can be kind to yourself however you can in whatever way you need to be. ☀️☀️☀️

[mandowifey]

Nora, she/her, hobbies include sewing, cooking, baking, people watching and trying to control my hoe thoughts behind my cute face🤍

I'm cheating because I know a majority of characters you like. Love you cutie 💋

I assign you: Father "Paul Hill"/ John Pruitt.

Note: This is SFW, and not edited/proofed.

X x X x X x X

Ash Wednesday was a special event on Crockett island.

Folks bore their ashen crosses and funneled out of the church to partake in a sort of potluck feast. Almost everyone brought a dish, and this being your first time participating in the festivities, you did too.

You felt out of place amidst them all, your crossless forehead made you feel like an outsider looking in. As you place the tray of cookies down, you feel the sensation of someone standing near you. A gasp caught in your throat as you jump and place a hand to your chest as you turned and saw him.

Father Paul lifted both hands and smiled uncomfortably. "Sorry about that." His breath comes out in an awkward laugh, his lips stretching into a slight grin that exposed his lovely ivory teeth.

The expression tugged your heart and caused you to gawk as blood pooled in your cheeks.

"You're Y/N, right?"

He's talking to you, idiot.

"Hm! Oh, yes!" You push some loose hair behind your ear and shake your head in a smile. "Sorry, the sun must be cooking my brain."

Paul smiles again, rendering you weak in the knees.

"Tell me about it."

Quiet settles between the two of you, and your lips press into a line as you try to scrounge up a conversation topic. The Monsignor picked up on it and began to motion with his right hand towards the tray of cookies you brought.

"Kind of you to bring something." His dark eyes soften and he nods with his head in the direction of the opposite end of the table. "I'm not much of a cook, but I did provide silverware, so that counts, I hope."

That makes you laugh. "I enjoy cooking, even though I tend to lose track of time and burn things." You admitted with a soft smile. To your delight, he laughs as well.

"Well, some of us have a different calling in life. Maybe you weren't made for cooking, but for something else?" His angular brows lift inquisitively and he smiles.

Your face slowly burns a bright pink.

"M-maybe." You try to laugh and not let your brain wander anywhere inappropriate. He's a priest, for fucks sake.

After a moment, Paul turns his attention toward the crowd. The sun reflects in his eyes, brightening the normally dark pools. Some of his hair had come loose and dangled in short, curled strands over his forehead. Bright sunshine illuminates his profile as a look of deep thought crosses him.

You cannot help staring. It was useless to lie to yourself. You had been pining for Father Hill the moment you attended the first service. Something about the way he carried himself, wise beyond his years and always looking on the verge of tears.

A weepy priest.

"Well, I think I'm gonna steal one of these cookies and head back to my flock." His lips tug into a smile as his eyes fall back on you.

You freeze.

Oh no.

Mouth agape, you watch as he extends an arm and plucks a cookie off the top to carry towards his soft lips. What you see and what Paul fails to is the very burnt underside of the cookie. It wasn't intended, you simply had gotten distracted while baking and ran out of time to make anything else.

The sound of the crunch makes your heart stop beating. You stare at his face and watch the sudden upwards jerk of his brows. He hadn't been expecting that. His other hand comes up to cover his mouth as he chews. Paul makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and you watch as he makes an effort to finish the cookie in one more bite.

Your embarrassment was palpable, and you silently wished the ground would open up and swallow you.

"Wow these are-"

"Don't. Don't say a word, please." You say as you bring a hand to cover your face.

The holy man laughs. "Not as bad as you think. It has a uniqueness that suits you." His voice was sincere.

Moving your hand, you look up at Paul and feel your cheeks burn. "Are you saying I share traits with a burnt cookie, father?"

The name slipped out and you felt your heart clench.

Paul stiffens and you watch as those heavy lids of his lower and the corner of his mouth tug. He looked like he was drawing closer to you, watching you with that onyx gaze.

That was when you notice the smudge near the corner of his mouth. "Oh! You got something, here." You tap the right corner of your mouth. It snaps him out of his trance, and his eyes immediately brighten again.

"Here?" He wipes the wrong side.

"No no, other side."

"Here?"

You laugh quietly as he misses again.

"Little to the left."

Paul swipes over his mouth, smudging it worse.

"Got it?"

Was he doing it on purpose? He was grinning at you, those shapely brows lifted, making his round eyes seem even bigger than usual.

"No, jeez, here-"

Without much forethought, you lick your thumb pad and reach up. Gently, you swipe and clear the smudge off the corner of his mouth and smile as you do. Then you realize he's locked in on your eyes.

What were you doing?

You're cupping his jaw and cleaning the corner of his mouth, except your thumb moves on its own now. You drag the pad along his soft bottom lip and watch as his pupils dilate to the size of dimes. The predatorial stare knocks your breath away. Who was this looking at you?

Paul's lips part just slightly and you realize you're still touching him. Before you could begin to apologize and withdraw, you feel the curl of his cold fingers around your wrist halting you.

He offers a smile.

"Thank you."

Then, his lips kiss the pad of your thumb and you feel a wet flick, then a gentle suck as he cleans the chocolate off your digit before releasing you.

At a loss for words, you stand in awe. Had that just happened? You can see that he's about to head off and you quickly find your voice.

"Let me make you more sometime?"

Father Hill stops and looks back at you inquisitively.

"Cookies, let me show you I know what I'm doing."

Your heart felt like a wild bird trying to escape its cage, and you wonder if he's able to hear it. Or if he could smell the arousal that had begun to build within you from the short exchange between you both.

"I'd like that." He nods, and you watch him wander back into the crowd.

Leaning against the table, you look at your thumb and then smile at yourself. What you had failed to mention to the Monsignor before was you had been distracted by the handsome priest talking to your neighbors this morning. Your eyes follow his shape as it mingled in with the townsfolk.

You promise yourself this next batch of cookies would have extra chocolate in them.

[sapphire-weapon]

So like, I have a very different opinion about the new direction Ada may be taking. To clarify, I know it's RE and I should never expect masterfully skilled story telling and I also don't want to stir the Ada pot, lol. Just had something niggling at me and was wondering if anybody out there can see where I'm coming from or give their explanation as to WHY I'm wrong, because I absolutely could be, but disagree like a normal and rational adult (very uncommon RE fandom occurrence /j).

In a nutshell, her arc is just fucking stupid. Is it better than OG? Yes, because the original practically just doesn't have one *shrug*, but the new direction just makes her so incredibly unlikeable and a bit cringe worthy. The whole "well I didn't THINK about the massive consequences of my actions until now honestly" trope... dude she's like thirty years old. "Oh, this guy was kind over half a decade ago and planted a seed in my brain, despite the fact I'm already a grown woman". The comparison to Ashley and Leon and what could've been. Blah, blah.... it's still incredibly sexist. It just is. My problem isn't that "Ada's mean", it's the fact that they're writing her almost infantile with how she thinks. There are plenty of other women in RE who've been through shit, had their arcs and did their thing in a way that kept their own agency. That's the part that matters, but remake Ada still hasn't quite gotten there. I think, in the long term, they WANT to make her into something that resembles a human, but it just slightly misses the mark still. She's incredibly selfish, that's fine, but her reasoning for change and introspection is headache inducing and doesn't make much sense. "I'll actively partake in terrorism for profit because I'm just that gal, y'know? I was born a femme fatale baby... but... what do you mean I could've had a romance? People I KNOW might also be impacted? Nevermind, now I'll consider why this might be bad." Dude..... come on.....

My very, very unpopular take... if this is seriously the line of thought they want to keep for her, I would rather she be killed off, and I say that as someone who ironically actually likes her and WANTS a decent story. Better to have Leon experience some forgiveness arc bullshit or whatever than have to painfully sit through another entire story of a grown woman with the reasoning skills of a preteen.

Again, I know this'll probably garner vitriol, I'm just curious to hear why I may be just approaching this the wrong way. I will admit I have knee jerk reactions to sexism, so I could very much just have a clouded vision of the potential that IS there and misinterpreting what I'm seeing in the first place *shrug*. What are your thoughts? Can you at least make sense of why I feel the way I do about this particular aspect of the game?

Your analysis is flawed for one very specific reason:

You think Ada changed from RE2make.

She hasn't.

Ada's still only out for Ada. The only thing that Leon changed about her was that he taught her how to better take care of herself. He taught her that she can't isolate in her independence, because things that go wrong for other people can negatively impact her, too.

The person who actually softens Ada is Luis, not Leon. But even then, there's no reason to think that Ada changed. He softened her to the point where she felt compelled to honor his memory and fulfill his dying wish, but she's not a better person because of it. She's gained honor from her interactions with Luis, not kindness.

She's going to still do the Ada thing of working for bad guys and profiting from the black market, because it's not about "oh no people I like might get hurt ;_;" That's not what Remake did with her. She's still doing her Ada thing. She only decides against giving the Amber to Wesker because it's the final part of honoring Luis's memory. Luis died to save two people. To then kill billions after the fact using the research that he no longer wanted to have hurt anyone is dishonorable.

But once her time with Los Illuminados is done, her time honoring Luis's memory is done. Whatever happens in Africa or the ESR or Edonia or China following this has nothing to do with him, so she's going to go back to doing her thing.

The point of having Ada watch The Leon and Ashley Show is to solidify Leon's autonomy from her and to try to further showcase how selfish Ada is. Ada still looks at Leon as a thing -- he's something she wants, and she doesn't understand why she can't have him. Making her watch The Leon and Ashley Show is meant to try to get her to reflect on why.

But it doesn't work. Because Ada hasn't changed. And won't change. And possibly can't change.

Through Leon in RE2make, Ada has become better suited to be independent. And through Luis in RE4make, Ada has become someone who keeps her word. That's what the Remakes have changed about her. That's why her story is so much better. They're not trying to make her a good guy. They're not trying to have her rethink her life. They're not trying to have her show remorse.

They're giving honor to a dishonorable character, along with a consistently selfish mindset to continue the work that she does. That's all they're doing.

And not for nothing anon but the way you keep calling her stupid and infantile is way more sexist than anything the narrative did with her. This ask came off like you hated Ada first and then reached for some sort of explanation as to why you could be justified in hating her second. There are legitimate reasons to criticize Ada, but you've cited none of them. Instead of looking at what the character was actually doing, you just slapped "she's stupid" on her.

ETA: added this post to my meta directory, because it seems important here and I should probably have it on hand.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey! For the Ice Queen/Tyrant King AU, I think it's time that Thena gets a matching tattoo with Gil. You know which tattoo I'm talking about.. What do you think?

Gil threw himself into the bed, burying his face in the soft white pillow waiting for him. "Fuck, it's nice to be in a proper bed again."

Even if it wasn't his bed.

"Don't sleep like that, it's bad for your back."

Gil turned his head, peeking up at his Ice Queen beside him, wearing a very sexy, lacy, satin-y nightie. She still had her lace around her shoulders, but he was starting to think it was just because she was letting him sleep in her bed for the first time. Not even just since he'd been released from the hospital earlier today, but for the first time ever.

Thena was reading over some reports from both of their businesses. Gil would be returning to work soon enough, and he had been keeping up on some necessary files and updates as much as he could from his hospital bed. He had to admit, with Thena running things in his stead, his profit margins had never been healthier.

"Do you need me to turn off the lamp?"

Gil smiled at the woman next to him, already reaching for the sconce built into the wall next to her bed frame. He sighed, "no, it's okay. I'm probably gonna drop right off, anyway."

"Hm," Thena acquiesced with just the faint sound of her agreement. She went back to her reading as he mumbled out a soft Korean 'good night and dream of me'.

Gil turned onto his side, partly for sleeping and partly to keep looking at her. He cleared his throat.

"What?"

He reached out his hand expectantly. She sighed but granted his wish, letting her left hand drift over into his delicately, like a bird perching on a branch in the snow. He smiled as his thumb brushed over the softness of her skin.

Last time he was in her home, he was coming to apologise for not telling her about the Little Heiress' business proposal. He could still remember the wild look in her eyes as she'd run out and thrown him against the wall. The anger and hurt turning her eyes black; he would never let her look like that again.

Thena kept quiet as he toyed with her hand idly. It surprised even her, how comfortable she was just having him next to her. Perhaps it was because she'd become so used to him sleeping with her, first from when he'd visited her in the poison ward and then over the past few weeks of her visiting him in the hospital for his gunshot wounds.

Gil held her hand in his, admiring how well they fit together. His hands were large, thickly muscled, somewhat calloused. Her hands were slender, long but small, and so fragile seeming against his. He shifted her hand in the light, catching sight of something.

It was a white ink tattoo, already designed to be subtle and nearly impossible to see against the pallor of her natural skin tone. But there it was, around her fourth finger. He had to shift it in the light to catch the gleam of it, but it was a design he would be able to draw blindfolded.

"What are you doing?" Thena frowned at him as he rolled her wrist around a few times. When she finally looked over at him, he was staring at her ring her finger obsessively. Reflexively, she tried to pull the hand back to her.

Gil didn't let her, grinning up at her and the knee-jerk reaction that spelled out her guilt to him. "What's this?"

"Nothing."

"Nice try, Princess," Gil sat himself up, still holding the hand in his. Now that he had spotted it, it was at least faintly easier to pick up the white lines tattooed into her skin. "You got a matching one?"

Thena stayed silent, and it - along with the sudden colour in her cheeks - was all he needed to know. He combed his memory, past when she'd asked him to tell her about how it all happened. There was a final stretch of days when she'd had a lot of business to take care of, and when she did come to check on him between meetings and deals, she'd had her gloves - and coat - on the whole time.

"How did..." Gil trailed off, also recalling her managing to slip into conversation asking the name of the artist who did all the rest of his tattoos. Gil only used one artist--only trusted one person to allow to paint his bare skin like that. "He did this?"

"He already had the design."

Gil looked up at his Ice Queen, who still wasn't looking at him. He could have expected as much, though; Thena wasn't good at vulnerability. They'd been taught not to be, after all. She didn't like having to look her own feelings in the eye.

Thena looked over at him as he raised the hand gently, touching his lips to the 'ring' she had gotten to match his.

"I love it," he whispered, keeping his eyes on the woman he loved. And did he ever love her--more than he ever thought he would be capable of in a single lifetime. Her eyes had that softness to them that made him bold enough to reach an arm around her, "I love you."

Thena let him pull her into a kiss, sighing against him as her hands found his chest all too naturally. Her fingers splayed out, her palm seeking out his heartbeat.

Gil laid down on his back, pulling her over him (and getting a super cute little pout for it). "So, no more complaining about me calling you my wife, huh?"

Thena rolled her eyes at him, "don't get ahead of yourself. This is merely making the same statement yours is."

That he was hers. And she was his. To all who needed to know and no one who didn't.

"But-"

Thena pressed down on his chest, reaching for the lamp and hanging her lace around her jewellery hook. "It's not as if you've actually asked in any way."

Gil barely got his mouth open before she jabbed her finger down to shut his lips.

"Don't," she glared down at him and pursed her lips, "you dare."

Gil sighed as she finally laid down with him, her head on his chest and her hand on his heart. He held the hand over his heart with his--a familiar and comfortable position for them. He supposed he could acknowledge that this might not be the best time for a proposal.

But now he was just thinking about how he wanted to propose. He wasn't sure what Thena was thinking, but they could both feel the other's heart racing way too fast for them to go to sleep.

[jamesunderwater]

Hi! It's me again <3

You said I could be greedy so I have some more important questions for you : D All about within HP universe.

Which character do you identify with the most?

Who is your favourite character to read about?

Favourite to write about?

Which character do you hate the most?

Which character do you find the most challenging to write about (or just dislike writing about them and avoid it LOL)

Hi again! <3 These are such important questions, I'm glad you asked. Truly how can you know a person until you know their answers to these.

Which character do you identify with the most?

Honestly, probably Harry (I have i'm the main character syndrome, so sue me). I relate to the trauma and neglect he experienced in childhood, the difficulty of feeling like you don't fit in/belong, wondering when the fuck bad things are gonna stop happening to you, and all the while trying to remain a good person, not let your anger overtake you. Also the way he kept most things inside and felt like he had to do it all on his own; the whole scene with him and Dumbledore after Sirius dies and Harry yells, "I DON'T CARE!" and throws something across the room, and Dumbledore says, "You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it." I felt that in my bones and still tear up at it now. I dunno. He just takes hit after hit and he keeps getting back up and it's so hard for him to accept love because it's always only ever been taken from him but he learns to trust and rely on his friends and 🥺 yeah. For almost all the same reasons I also very closely relate to Sirius, but Sirius and Harry handled their circumstances in very different ways, and I relate more to how Harry handles things.

Who is your favourite character to read about?

That's HARD oh god. Okay I think my knee-jerk answer is Sirius, I think my 'wait no maybe-' answer is Remus, I think my actual answer is Lily, and I think the answer I wish I were giving is Ginny. Sirius I could read about until I'm dust and bones, but Remus fascinates me because I don't understand him as well as I understand Sirius and when people write Remus well I'm like FUCk I need to HUG YOU RIGHT NOW. But I find myself actually reading depthfully written Lily fics and remembering them for a long time afterward more than anything. And Ginny just - I should really get into good Ginny fics, because lowkey she is one of my top 5 favorite characters in the books and there's SO MUCH there to work with.

Favourite to write about?

Sirius. There's no question. Or James, but specifically in regard to his love for others, because I just think there's no character who loves more purely than he does.

Which character do you hate the most?

So the competition is fierce between Snape, Dumbledore, Bellatrix, and Umbridge. Realistically, the one who literally triggers a physiological fight or flight response in me is Umbridge, so it's probably her. But Bellatrix is just - I can't get over her killing Sirius and laughing, or gleefully driving the Longbottoms insane, or carving mudblood into Hermione's arm. I hate Snape the child abuser, Dumbledore the manipulator, and Umbridge the scum of the earth, but Bellatrix Lestrange is like an unforgivable character to me.

Which character do you find the most challenging to write about (or just dislike writing about them and avoid it LOL)

Omg, Peter Pettigrew. I have yet to write a marauders fic where I don't treat him like the forgotten unwanted stepchild. Kinda wanna get better about it but ughhhhhhhhh

[of-another-broken-heart]

I still hate this new editor.

I hate how fucking tiny the text window is. I hate the near-infinite empty space all around it.

I hate the intrusive, long icon list that shows up every time I hit Return.

Why not add it as a static element to the editor window? After hacking it down to this pitiful 300x300 size, surely, SURELY you could afford to toss a little 40 pixel banner along the bottom with those options? Surely???

Knee-jerk repeat complaints aside, I am here to document some further tragedy that is my life.

I got harassed and had my anxiety put into overdrive over the weekend by an insurance representative. Health insurance. Supposedly from the "retention" department. She kept calling and leaving voicemails. I managed to pick up a single call, which interrupted something I was actively doing, so I managed to get her to schedule me an appointment. She would call for it.

She didn't.

I spent the whole rest of that day - Friday - calling back. Being sent to her voicemail. Over. And over. And over. And over. Every fucking call. Straight to voicemail.

Obviously there was nothing over the weekend. Clearly. Obviously.

Monday came. I didn't get a call, but I did get another voicemail. Sorry, she said, for being "a little late." I returned the call. Again. Voicemail. Again.

I called the insurance main line. I tricked the automated maze sphinx with an answer - I'm calling to renew! The automated maze sphinx connected me with an actual representative. She pulled up my account.

I am not up for renewal (recertification). I am good until September of 2024.

I was relieved. I was livid.

I called the "retention" agent. Again. Voicemail. Again. I let her know that I took care of it. That I called the main line, and she could cease harassing me, as my coverage was good for an entire fucking year.

She hasn't left me any more voicemails.

But that was a 4-day long anxiety episode. Preceded, of course, by several other days of anticipatory anxiety. And insomnia.

Between the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion, AND the weather, I had a (new!) chronic pain flare, too. No, I don't suddenly have fibro or anything like that. It's that pesky knee, so susceptible to my bad luck, and gravity. I had to use Nana's cane to get around for a while after finally finishing all my anxiety phone calls on Monday.

As it turns out, such an experience triggers my MECFS PEM, too. Unsurprisingly. I have been completely drained. Struggling to have enough energy to get myself to the bathroom, stay hydrated, eat much of anything. I lost most of Tuesday to it. Wednesday is gone and all I can really tell you is that I "woke up" at 7:30 PM and have somehow vacantly remained some detached form of conscious for 10 hours.

Ah, right. It was more anxiety. See, Tuesday also brought me, what I can only figure is, a combination trauma episode and autistic meltdown. Combined with exhaustion, and PEM, and anxiety, and frustration, and And people got to witness it! Which, of course, leads to more anxiety. And blame. Justice Sensitivity, and Rejection Sensitivity? Oh, baby, the charts are spanning to whole other universes, those bars are so big they're extra-planar. That all got cranked into hyperdrive late Wednesday. THAT is how I vacantly remained some detached form of conscious. I was dissociating!

I cried today. I cry most days. Why did I cry?

I'm still in love with someone who hasn't even said so much as "hi" to me in a full year. Hate myself for that. Wish I wasn't a broken fucked up goddamn idiot, huh. Wouldn't that be nice.

I remembered my dad. He's not dead. I just might not ever see him again. I remembered being little, and his enthusiasm and fun spirit, and his laugh, and falling asleep on his chest as a child after he returned from fishing trips, and the time he got us all shushed in a movie theater when he and mom split, and the first time I ever saw him truly cry in pain (I can't remember what the injury was any more - it was either when he cut his knee open, or when he gave himself blood poisoning while cleaning a shark jaw that came up in some nets).

I miss cooking. I miss baking. I miss having friends both willing and able to see me. I miss board games and swimming in pools and laughing while trying to barbecue in the rain. I miss feeling liked and wanted.

So I cry.

These aren't even unique days. This is just life now. This is what I was made for, I guess. To be broken and used and thrown away and forgotten, and always, ALWAYS blamed for ever, EVER suggesting otherwise, and especially so for daring to stand up for myself.

[pee-com]

some lady using whippets on the bus confronted me for "talking abt her and judging her" which i cant deny i texted my friend next to me on the bus abt her but not looking down on her more like, is she using?

i look towards the front of the bus normally and after using my phone once she started to stare me down and i didn't acknowledge it other than i personally noticed it.

anyways when we got off at her stop she left and i didn't acknowledge it other than i was texting my friend a pic when she responded to me and then thats when she went off on me saying she wanted to fight.

you hear about people being in some form of danger or uncomfortable scenarios and everyone is a bystander but you dont think your gonna be them. well i was one of them 😭

full bus and nobody gaf about this lady screaming at me about getting off the bus and fighting, i love society 🎀

[chappedlipjournal]

I had a dream last night. There was a little girl who was going to die sitting on my lap. She was my sister. We were in a grave yard filled with people who had also died of her condition. I was already devestated. This was the same dream but all of that was gone.

There was a flood of people and my family, i had two men who were very important to me but i dont know my exact relation to them. We were going down all of these stairs. They were narrow and steepm there was lots of dark wood and stone and iron fences. And i was overwhelmed and turned around and said i couldnt do it and i couldnt escape the flood of people. I just ended up having a meltdown.

Finally we got out of the people and we were in like airport but it was a mall but it was a best buy. I was having a bad time but i really liked looking at the display screens. I remember stimming. I remember those two men looking after me. I knew i was safe with them.

At some point, one of them had come up behind me and wrapped his arms around me and we just swayed while I stimmed and it was so so nice.

We ended up in a house somewhere. And the other man held me. We were like on a bed watching tv or something. But we were skin on skin. He could rest his chin on top of my head. And it was also really nice.

The dream ended up badly though because then i was alone coming down from this meltdown and some ghost thing started fucking with me and tried to drown me and was ripping off my clothes. Then i woke up and it was like 2 pm.

I don't really know why im typing this out. I guess its because i dont want to forget what being cared for like that felt like. I haven't really felt that before. And they didn't judge me. They just took care of me when i couldn't take care of myself. I think maybe its my brain still trying to cope with the meltdown i had last weekend that was then compounded by the fact i got triggered. Like it was trying to rewrite it to make it not as bad to have happened to me.

And i do wish i had someone in my life like that. That could make me feel that safe that could make me feel that cared for. I feel like im finally starting to have some language for my experiences. And i think my brain is trying very hard to reconcile all of this.

I never really thought i could be autistic because i didnt have meltdowns but i think i very much do. I can think of a few times in my past in which i had meltdowns but i didnt know thats what they were. But i do think i shut down and dissociate more oftenm exercise and overstimulation being some triggers there.

In other news im still having really bad urges. And i just keep thinking its so weird i can go to the gym and then come home and want to cut. Its so weird i can perform my job with tight deadlines this week and then come home and be immbolized by my urges for hours. I just dont get it. And part of me wonders, if i just do it will it go away. Will it stop the fucking voice in my head. But i know that is not how it works. It is not how it worked before.

And im still having feelings about heartstopper. Mostly good feelings. But i also cant shake that knee jerk reaction i had. It was like ice cold water spilling down my spine and an IMMEDIATE urge to cut. I know its my job to manage my triggers but how am i suppose to manage them if im not given the tools to do so? I feel like im going in circles with all this lately and im tired. Im so fucking tired. And thats what makes cutting so tantalizing bcuz if i do cut it will be quiet for a while. And part of me wonders if maybe i need to reframe relapse and harm reduction techniques etc in my head.

Its bed time. Im tired. I wonder how much of my energy these days is taken up by trying actively to not slice my skin open. Because it feels like a lot.

[imthebadguyyy]

Temporary Fix

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (fem!F1 driver!reader)

Fandom - F1

Summary - You're the only female F1 driver, and you're damn good at your job. Oh, and you also have a friends with benefits relationship with a certain 7x World Champion.

Warnings - smut, best friends -> lovers, slight exhibitionism

A/N - you have the second merc seat in this, so Valterri isn't here : (( not proof read

Sometimes, you hated yourself for following your passion. Driving a F1 car had been your dream ever since you could remember. The long process from karting to F1 had been a difficult one. When you were seven, you had a go kart track manager that you couldn't race there because you were a girl. That had cemented your will to be the best you could be, and you had done it.

You had made it into a Mercedes F1 seat after spending two years in Williams. It was safe to say that you were one of the best drivers, with killer instinct and an excellent eye for overtakes. The likes of Mika Hakkinen, Niki Lauda, Jacques Villeneuve and others had praised your skills, naming you one of the best talents in the current driver pool.

But the glory, the fame, the praise, sometimes you wished you could just evaporate into thin air. This was one of those times. Press conferences sucked, they really did. Reporters and journalists thought they were entitled to ask you the most sexist of questions, brushing them off by saying it was 'just a simple question'. Sometimes the drivers you were paired up with defended you, like Seb or Pierre or Lewis or even Kimi. Sometimes people didn't want to say anything, or they just laughed it off or answered for you.

This was not one of those times. Charles was supposed to be your partner for the press conference, but he wasn't feeling too great so you were on your own. It had started off fine, with the usual questions like 'how are you feeling about the race?' 'is it gonna be a good weekend for Mercedes?' and then it had gone to 'Do you think you being the only woman here, you should have a special suit?' or 'Are you sure it's a good idea for you to continue another year in F1?' that's what had irked you off.

With a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head, you bit back the cutting response that had sprung to your lips, opting to simply look disapprovingly in silence, speaking more words in the quiet. Eventually, the conference was over, and you made your way out of the hall, deep in thought, so lost in your own world, you didn't notice when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into one of the nearby storage closets.

Your protest of "Hey!-" was cut off by a pair of lips pressing to yours, strong arms wrapping around your torso. "Heard you had a bad day with the press" Lewis mumbled against your lips, brow furrowing when you sighed and let your head drop onto his shoulder. "Yeah they're such fucking jerks" you replied, closing your eyes. "I'm sorry you have to deal with them every time" he continued, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Eh, I mean I'd rather not talk about it" you continued, letting your fingers trace a pattern on his chest.

The silence in the room was disturbed by the ringing of Lewis's phone, making you jump softly. "Bono" he answered, looking down at the screen. "Pick it up"

"Hello?"

"Lewis, we're waiting for the meeting? And is Y/N with you?" Bono's voice rang through the tiny closet, as you turned to look at Lewis with wide eyes. Shit, the debrief. "Yeah, I'm coming! Oh, and I'll see if I can find Y/N" he replied, making you suppress a smile. The moment he put the phone down, the both of you burst into giggles, before he leaned down to press another kiss to your lips. "Well, we should go" he said, biting back a smile when you sighed, and cuddled into his shoulder. "Fine"

"But I'll make it up to you tonight baby" he continued, as a shiver ran down your spine. Oh yeah, you two had a friends with benefits situation going on too. No biggie

Except, well, you know you couldn't tell anyone, and you were definitely in love with each other, but I mean, of course it was better to be stupid and just simply refuse to acknowledge those feelings for each other.

♥︎☾☁︎

It had happened, when Lewis won his championship in Turkey. The team had thrown a (socially distant) party, and you had gotten just a little more drunk than you should have, but the champagne was flowing, tequila shots were being taken, beer was being chugged so you just jumped in and had a few more glasses of wine than you should have, and participated in a few rounds of shots.

Before you had known, a pair of hot lips had crashed onto yours, and your arms had tightly held onto a broad pair of shoulders, as the pair of you had stumbled up to your hotel room, crashing backwards onto the bed. Your drunken mind had been sober enough to recognise the 'Still I Rise' tattoo across his back when he tugged his shirt off.

At the same time, Lewis had recognised your face, heart speeding up ever so slightly because holy shit he was making out with you, and he really, really liked you. Before he knew it, your dress was down to your knees, and his shirt was a rumpled mess on the floor, your friendship gone far beyond repair, but only in the best way possible.

The next morning, you had let out a groan when the sunshine had flashed into your eyes, rolling over to find Lewis lying next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he slept peacefully. Your heart rate had sped up, and you had shot up, scaring the living day light out of Lewis. He had awoken with a start, confusion present in his brown eyes, before realization had sunk in, and he had shot out of bed, wrapping one of the towels around his lower body.

But before the two of you could get awkward, he had strutted over to you, grabbing your face in his hands before pulling you in for a kiss that made you feel weak and light headed.

And then the both of you came to the conclusion that you two wanted something loose and flexible, something fun with no commitment.

But was it what you wanted?

♥︎☾☁︎

Sometimes debriefs could drag on. And on. And on. Eventually, the engineers left the room, leaving only Toto, Lewis, Bono, Angela, James and yourself in the room. Over the years, it had become like a family for you, and you loved them to absolute bits. The mood in the room had changed, as you all joked around for a while.

Watching from the other side of the room, Lewis couldn't help the smile that etched itself onto his face, when he saw you throw your head back with laughter at something Toto said, inhaling sharply when your neck came into clear view, a sudden urge to mark you up settling in on his body.

It was a thrill, to think of how many times you had come undone on his fingers and his tongue, how many nights you begged for him to fill you up with his cock. It was a thrill to think of all the times he had cried your name out in ecstasy while your tongue worked wonders around him. And yet, here you were, acting as if you two were just best friends, not two people who could barely keep their hands off of each other.

Just two nights ago, he had made you scream his name so loud, the person the next room, who just happened to be Daniel, had not let him hear the end of it. Thankfully, the Aussie hadn't realized it was you in his bed. Two nights ago, he had made you see stars, and after that you had rewarded him with the performance of his life to Nights Like This by Kehlani.

Snapping back to reality when a slight poke was applied to his shoulder, Lewis looked over to see Angela looking at him with a slight smirk on her face. He strongly suspected that the woman definitely had some sort of inkling about the both of you. How ? No idea. But she was a crazy smart woman, and was bound to have figured out that he was seeing someone.

It didn't help that atleast half the people on the grid had at some point teased him, telling him the both of you were made for each other. It was like the universe was pushing the both of you to be together, and he kept pushing it away

"So are we feeling confident going into this weekend?" Toto asked, grabbing his attention from the smirking blonde.

"Yup!" Your cheery answer elicited a smile from everyone in the room. "Yeah I think so" he said, watching as you flashed him a quick smile. "Okay, then, I think we're done for now. Any questions?" Bono asked, scanning a data sheet in front of him. "No, i'm good" you replied, reaching over to grab your phone. "Yeah me too" Lewis said, far too concerned with what was going to happen later that night to pay his full attention to Bono.

"Okay then. We'll see you tomorrow"

And with that they departed. Before Lewis could follow you, a hand grabbed his and he turned to see Angela, Toto and Bono looking at him expectantly. "So whose got you all distracted and flustered?" Angela asked, earning a smirk from Toto. "What? No one" he replied, slapping himself mentally for being all day dreamy during a meeting. "Oh really? I'm willing to bet you didn't hear anything I said during the meet except the last bit" Bono said, smiling when his driver got visibly flustered.

"So do we know her?" Angela continued, watching him closely for any giveaway reactions. "How would you know her if I don't like anyone?" Lewis said, hoping to God it didn't come across as awkward as it sounded.

"Never said you liked anyone. I'm saying you're in love with someone" Angela said, watching as her friend's eyes widened in shock, and he shook his head profusely. "Okay are you on something? I'm just gonna head back to the hotel now" he murmured, confused, and somewhat taken aback by her bluntness.

Ignoring the looks on the others faces, he made his way out to the paddock, trying his hardest to make sense of his feelings. Was a casual relationship with you what he wanted? He wanted so much more than that.

Lewis knew, deep down in his heart, that he wanted to hold your hand in public, and kiss you right on the lips in front of everyone when you shared a podium. He wanted to be able to call you his, to not just spend the night with you, but to spend all his days with you. But you didn't want that.

Or so he thought.

♥︎☾☁︎

Back at the hotel, Lewis busied himself with working out, trying to push all his frustrations out via the workout. He knew that you were going to turn up in the night, and he looked so damn forward to seeing you each night, but god, he hated it when you left in the morning. Every morning when your warm body slipped out from under the sheet, his arms would tighten for a moment, before your giggle would bring him back to reality and he'd hastily draw back, smiling at you. His favourite moment was when he came to your hotel room in Spain. In the morning, he had woken up before you, and before leaving, he had pressed a little kiss to your forehead. The most gorgeous smile had curled onto your lips, and his heart had melted into a little puddle when you rested your cheek on his hand

And then in Monaco, when he had taken you to his apartment, you had woken up before him, and he had woken up to the sight of you bringing a tray of pancakes and fruits, followed by a soft kiss to his cheek.

It was those moments he cherished, but it was those same moments that confused him.

His train of thought was broken when a knock echoed in the room, as he walked over to the door, opening it to find : you

"Hey" you greeted him, walking in and shedding your jacket. "Hey" he replied, reaching for a towel to wipe the sweat off of his body. "Wow um, is this a bad time?" You asked, eyes trailing down his abs, watching as his body glistened in the fading sun light. "No its fine, I just finished my workout. You hungry?" He continued, biting back a smirk when he saw your eyes roaming his body.

"W-what? Yeah, i, um, suppose - yeah" you murmured, mind already far down the gutter.

"For food darling, not for sex" he said, making you blush and let out a small gasp. "Lewis!" You chided, shoving him softly. "You know you were thinking it" he mumbled, pushing you up against the wall. "Yeah I was" you whispered back, yanking him forward by his shoulders, slamming your lips against his.

Lifting you up from the waist, he pressed his body further into yours, one of his hands wandering down to your ass, squeezing harshly, earning a moan from your lips. Taking the opportunity, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, groaning when you let your core grind against him.

Leading you towards the bed, he stopped in confusion when you stopped him, maneuvering him towards the balcony. "Want you to fuck me against the window or in the balcony" you gasped out, earning a moan from him.

"Right where anyone could see us, hmm? Didn't know you were into that baby" he growled, grabbing your earlobe in between his teeth, earning an airy gasp from you, as the wetness threatened to seep down your legs.

"Mmhmm" was all you could muster, your mind so clouded with desperation you couldn't form a single coherent thought. The only thing you were aware of was that only Lewis could make you feel the pleasure you wanted to feel, only he would take you to that little piece of heaven, only he would hold your hand and fuck you into oblivion, and he would still be there to clean you down with a sponge softly.

"If you insist"

Grabbing you roughly, he slammed your body against the massive hotel room window, ripping the mercedes team shirt you were wearing off of your quivering form, letting it drop to the floor, before he hooked his fingers into the material of your jeans, tugging the denim down your legs

With a soft groan, you pulled his nike shorts down his legs, moaning when his cock came into view, the throbbing in between your legs making you whimper, arousal and need growing tenfold in your tummy.

"Please" you whispered, meeting his eyes, so he could see the pure desperation in your eyes. "Please what?" He said, a certain roughness you hadn't heard before creeping into his voice

"Please fuck me" you moaned, gasping when he brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly. "Oh trust me doll, i will. But first, i want to have you dripping wet and ready for me. I want to make you cum on my fingers, so you're wet and ready for my cock. Do you want my fingers princess?" he continued, feeling his arousal grow when you whimpered and whined.

"Words baby girl. Or I'll just leave you here with your pathetic fingers. I bet you can't even reach all those spots inside you that make you scream, when your tiny little fingers try to please yourself. I bet you just feel like sinking into yourself, but the thought of my fingers keeps you awake. Do you do that, sweet girl? Do you pretend your fingers are mine when you're touching yourself, hmm?'

When you didn't answer, he delivered a smack to your ass, groaning when you moaned at the pleasurable sting. "Yes" you whispered abashed.

"Don't be shy baby. Its okay. I know you feel so good when I love on you. I can see it when you scream my name" and with that, his pointer finger began circling your clit, rubbing circles around it before shifting so he was rubbing the sensitive bud directly.

Your moans of ecstasy were music to his ear, a smile gracing his features, as he let his middle finger slip into you, thrusting it in and out of you. Your soft cry of "fuck" cracked when he shoved his pointer into you as well, scissoring them in and out of you

"Oh fucking hell Lew-" "Shh my darling, i didn't say you could talk, did I?" He said, fingers working at an indescribably quick pace, as the knot in your tummy tightened and threatened to loosen. "I'm gonna-" "go ahead baby" he murmured, using his pointer and thumb to pinch your clit roughly, as you came around his fingers with a scream

"Good girl. You wanna put that pretty little mouth to use somewhere else?" he asked, watching as you dropped to your knees eagerly, (just like I would do irl) reaching up to rest your hands on his hips.

"Someone's eager to suck my cock hmm? Be a good girl for me, and don't waste time" he ordered, a shudder running down his body when your nails traced the veins on his cock, and then as they reached downwards, your thumb circling his tip, collecting his pre cum on your finger. Then you shoved your thumb in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, before sucking softly on your digit, rolling your eyes back. You were snapped back to reality when Lewis roughly yanked your head up, pure arousal clouding his pupils

"You better use your mouth right now, or i swear i will leave you here alone to pleasure yourself" he threatened, moaning when you took his tip into your mouth at once, sucking softly before swirling your tongue upwards.

The feel of your tongue on him made him buck his hips into your mouth, the unexpected movement pushed him quite far back in your mouth, looking up at him, you hollowed out your cheeks, taking more and more of his cock into your mouth, the sounds he was making above you fuelling you. You took him as far back as you could without gagging, as a strangled moan of "Fuck Y/N!"left his lips. He grabbed your hair, tugging upwards, the tingling on your scalp sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. "Fuck baby, you're gonna have to stop now, I really want to fuck you now" he growled out, pulling you up before pushing you towards to balcony railing

Lining up with your entrance, he watched as you let out a shaky breath, eyes falling shut, as you clenched in anticipation.

"Are you sure you want this Y/N?" he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign that he was being too rough, or that you didn't want what was coming next

"Turning your head around to face him, you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. "I've never been more sure baby" was your affirming reply.

Kissing you back with the same fervour, he slowly pushed into you from behind, the both of you groaning in sync when your walls enveloped him. "fuck you feel so good darling. So fucking tight" lewis moaned, making you moan as well as the pleasure coursed through your veins.

Reaching around you, Lewis rubbed your clit while he continued to snap his hips against yours, making your breasts bounce against your chest, your hands gripping the balcony railing for dear life. Thank god it was dark.

He continued to rub and pinch you clit, before swiping his fingers through your wet folds. Then he shoved his fingers into your mouth, prompting you to suck on them

"Be an angel and suck on my fingers for me" he growled, moaning when your mouth eagerly closed around his fingers, sucking them with fervour.

Snapping his hips into you desperately, his hands encircled your waist, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, swishing his fingers around in your mouth. "Fuck baby thats it, i'm gonna cum" he groaned, capturing your earlobe in between his teeth, moaning when you clenched down on him again

"Oh fucking hell-" with a moan, he came into you, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to rub your clit again, sighing with satisfaction when you came around him with a scream of "Lewis!"

Panting, he dragged you back to the bed, both of you collapsing into the covers.

Your chest rising and falling rapidly, you curled up into his chest, letting your head droop onto his shoulder, as his fingers traced his initials onto your hip.

"Well princess, we seem to have a problem here" he said, as you snapped your head up to look at him in confusion.

"I think i'm in love with you"

♡☾☁︎

A/N - part 2? Also feel free to drop a comment, i'd really appreciate it 🤍 thank you so much for reading 🤍

[harrystylesslutt]

Harry jerking off while thinking about Y/N.

warnings: swearing, smut.

Harry's POV:

It was currently 11pm. And here I am sitting on my bed by myself with a hard on because of Y/N. It all started as a simple crush, but after years of knowing her, she was all I could think about.

But to her I was only her best friend. Nothing more. I wanted her so bad. We were hanging out tonight just cuddling on my couch watching a movie, and that's when I felt myself starting to grow hard. Her ass was right against my crotch, I'm sure she didn't do it on purpose, I mean were just cuddling, I knew it was nothing but my cock was a little too happy with the contact.

When she noticed something poking against her back I was so embarrassed but then she reassured me and said that it happens and it was fine. After a while it got late so she left. In my head this scenario would have gone differently, she would have asked me if I needed her help to take care of it and god I would be a fool if I had said no. But sadly this was reality, I had to do it on my own.

I waste no time in grasping my cock and giving it a few slow jerks. I immediately think of Y/N. How fucking hot she looked last night, in that little black dress. How much I wanted to take her back to my place, bend her over and make her scream my name.

No POV:

Harry starts thumbing at his slit, drawing circles and hissing because of how sensitive he was. He spits on his other hand and brings it down to fondle his balls, imagining Y/N sucking them into her mouth.

He pictures her on her knees for him, mouth wide open, waiting for him to fuck her mouth. He brings his hand up from his balls back to his cock and starts thrusting into his fist, imagining it was Y/N's cunt he was pounding into.

He could practically feel how tight and warm she would be. His teeth are clenched, his lips are pursed shut and his eyes are squeezed shut and his head tilts back into the pillow.

He suddenly slows down not wanting to cum just yet. He pictures himself flipping Y/N onto her stomach and pulling her ass up in the air, and thrusting into her fast and hard while he stares at her other hole that's begging to be fucked.

He lets out a loud moan, thinking about how her tits would be bouncing by the force of his thrusts. How she would be screaming his name for everyone to hear and know how good he's giving it to her.

His lips fall open, eyes scrunched tight, and a breathy moan falls from his mouth when he thinks about Y/N begging him to let her cum and milk his cock up. Probably calling him "daddy". He knew she was a kinky little minx, they had discussed briefly in the past.

He reaches forward to his dresser to pull a vibrator out of the drawer, turns it on and places it on his very sensitive slit.

The vibrations of the toy and him thinking about how she'd let him spank her, spit on her, tie her up pushes him over the edge. The knot in his stomach finally releasing, every muscle in his body tensing, his vision going blank, while he has one of the best orgasms he ever had.

He turns the toy off and looks down at his lower stomach, seeing his cum all over it. He never came this hard in his life. There he was sitting there on his bed, panting, wishing Y/N was here to lick him clean.

[moonshineboyz]

[17:40]

Pairing: volleyball player!Juyeon × volleyball player! fem reader

Genre: Smut, enemies with benefits

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, rough/hate (?) sex, usage of the word slut, mentions of choking and spanking, lowkey public sex, brief fingering

a/n: i know juyeon is not holding a volleyball but let's just pretend. i got this idea from listening to lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off by panic! at the disco 🤠 i'm not sure if i like the ending but,,, (@annyeongffs enjoy bb)

masterlist ♡

“Okay guys, let’s wrap up for today. Both teams did great!” The coach called and everyone got out of their positions, stretching out the tense muscles and walking out of court. “Nuh uh, minus you two Juyeon and Y/N.” He called again making you stop in your tracks. “You’re gonna take the volleyballs and net to the equipment room and pump up the basketballs. That’s what you get for arguing and swearing at each other every five minutes even during practice.”

You cursed under your breath sending a death glare towards Juyeon, who just looked at you expressionless. ‘Stupid son of a bitch.’

The coach left the court with the remaining of your team mates that waved at you from afar. You waved back and went to collect the scattered balls letting the boy get the net, since he was taller.

“If you weren’t so annoying, I could be going to my dorm right now.” He said when you walked past him on your way to the equipment room. You thought in giving a rude reply but bit your tongue not to curse back at him, already feeling your blood boil. “I'm talking to you.” You turned on your heel to face him.

“What do you mean? It’s your fault! You were throwing the ball too far for me to catch it in time!” You snarled.

“Isn’t it the whole point? Make the ball touch the floor on your adversary's side? I think you're just complaining because you're not that good of a player." Juyeon had just finished getting the net out of the first pole and glared at you with a raised brow. He really was getting under your skin.

"For your information, I'm the second best in the female team. I just can't deal with bullshit coming from a jerk like you."

Fuming, you turned your back again, walking away to fight back the temptation of throwing one of the balls in your arms directly at his annoying handsome face. Juyeon knew exactly how to get on your nerves and you couldn't stand having to be in the same room with him for too long without getting annoyed or bickering.

You were looking into the lockers searching for a second air pump, since there wasn't any other way and you had to pump up the balls, the best option was to you two do it separately so you could go home as soon as possible. While you were at it Juyeon entered the equipment room bringing the net and you quickly thought of a way to get yourself out of that situation.

"Here, the air pump." You handed him the object, to which he accepted but kept looking at you puzzled. "I didn't find another one, so, you do it."

"And what you're gonna do?"

"Go home!? What else do you expect me to do? Blow out the balls like they're balloons?" Your eyes rolled at how he scoffed at you, arms crossing in front of your body.

"I mean, I know something else you'd like to blow." A cheeky grin grew on his lips and past scenes of his dick on your mouth flashed through your mind.

“Shut the fuck up, will you? You’re so fucking annoying.” You raised your voice taking the boy aback for a moment, your jaw clenched and brows furrowed. “I can’t even stand looking at y-"

The words died at your throat as Juyeon dropped the air pump to grab your jaw firmly, pushing you up against the nearest wall. He was close, his tall figure towering over yours as he looked down at you with dark eyes.

“If you want to yell at me so bad, then I'll give you a reason to do so.” He muttered through gritted teeth and you could feel he was getting mad as well.

“Fuck you.” You scoffed trying to masquerade the fact that your heart was beating fast.

“Oh, you just did on semi-finals night, darling.” Juyeon let go of your face to brush his knuckles against the skin of your cheek, trailing south till it reached the side of your neck. You wished you didn’t shiver at the light touch, making it obvious to him that you enjoyed it. “Speaking of which, where have you been these past weeks? Were you too busy with that asshole from the basketball team?”

You didn’t even notice when you started to hold your breath but you were already feeling intoxicated by the low tone of his voice, knowing exactly what he was implying. His longs fingers wrapping around your throat not helping at all, and you thanked the sound of your racing heart wasn’t audible.  

“Why? Jealous much?” It took everything in you to let that out in a disinterested voice, sticking to an attitude not to let him win in any circumstance.

“C'mon, doll, you know I'd never date you; this is just for the fun. You’re just someone to hook up with.” He took a step closer, few inches away to press his body against yours. His skin was still glistening from the after practice sweat and you could almost say he looked hot, even though your mouth told otherwise.  

“And that’s all you can get after all. You’re good in bed but you’re as charming as a rock. No surprise you’re single.” Juyeon quirked a brow, his eyes dark as ever.

“Aw, you’re not attracted to me? Yeah, keep lying to yourself, darling. This is the most fun you can have besides taking your clothes off, isn’t it?” His breath fanned at your lips as the grip on your throat tightened, making him chuckle when a small moan dared to scape you. “Gosh, I really missed your pretty little pussy swallowing my dick and you screaming my name.”

You hated Juyeon to the moon and back with your whole being. He was arrogant, full of himself and egocentric, but what you hated the most was the fact that he knew how to touch you and make you feel things in a way you’d never experienced before, and you’d never admit that out loud. You'd never admit to his face how you also missed him pounding into you while you hooked up with other guys.

It was hard to recall when or even how you two started having this type of relationship, an 'enemies with benefits' kind you could say, because you clearly weren’t friends at all. You would pay not to have to spend the practice time looking at his face, and Juyeon would rather die than bumping into you in the hallways.  

But both couldn’t deny the sexual tension, and maybe that’s what led you to it, or maybe that was only a tactic to release stress, and you just happened to be there for each other. What’s a better way to calm your nerves than fucking your enemy? The sex was great after all and you couldn’t name any other boy who has ever made you cum so hard. Perhaps the hate towards each other really did add fuel to the fire and made things more interesting, competing who could make the other orgasm the fastest.

"I hate you so much." You said trying not to moan again when Juyeon pressed his torso against yours, sneaking his knee between your thighs, to which you rolled your hips grinding down on it.

"It's reciprocal, I just like to fuck you dumb." His hands went to your waist, grabbing hard and pulling you more into him. You were already melting at the tip of his fingers and didn't think twice before crashing your lips together and tugged at his hair with force as he moved his leg to cause more friction on your core. His big hands roaming all over your body roughly and squeezing your ass. A hiss came out of Juyeon's lips when you scratched his back underneath the shirt, sure to leave red marks. "Don't start a game you know you're gonna lose."

Juyeon pulled you by the wrist to the old desk to careless bend you over it. You couldn't lie saying you didn't like how everything was rough with him, it made a shiver run down your spine every time he kissed you hard and pulled your hair as you cursed at him digging your nails into his skin. He never cared about whether or not he was leaving bruises on your hips, neck and inner thighs, but neither did you. You secretly enjoyed admiring them later in the mirror.

“Here? Really?”

“It’s not like we haven’t done this before. Plus, everyone left, you can scream all you want.” A hand came down hard on your right ass cheek making you yelp. Another smack on the left side and you winced in pain arching your back. “You look good in the team's uniform, but look even better when I'm filling you up.”

He massaged your ass before harshly pulling your tight shorts down to your ankles and you stepped out of them, feeling his hands travel up your legs and holding your hips to press his hard on on your clothed core. You sighed grinding against him, your mind already getting hazy.

The boy brought you up to leave hungry kisses down your neck and bit on the curvature. Your breath hitched when his short nails raked the skin of your belly and you let your head rest on his shoulder, closing your eyes lost in the sensations. “Now tell me, is it still me that makes you sweat? Did you think of me when you were in bed with them?” He growled in your ear biting your lobe, making you grind harder.

“Not even for a second, didn’t even cross my mind.” Lucky you your mouth worked faster than your body so you didn’t dumbly nod agreeing with him. “You’re good but not the best.” You weren’t even ashamed in lying.

Juyeon let out a dark chuckle and grabbed your throat while the other hand squeezed one of your breasts. “We both know I've got a hotter touch, a better fuck than any guy you’ll ever meet. Or else you wouldn’t be coming back begging for my cock whenever you feel horny.”

“You wish.”

“Then why are you still here?” He teased licking your neck and smirked when you shuddered.

“Didn’t you say you missed my pussy? Then fuck me already.” You huffed impatient to which his only answer was to rub circles in your clit over your damp underwear. Juyeon pushed you back to bend over the desk, quickly and roughly pulling your panties down that you’d had stumbled if you were standing straight. “You’re gonna rip my panties, you asshole.”

He scoffed, slapping you once again. “You didn’t complain the other times I did.” His hand palmed himself through the shorts while the other went to your core, fingers playing with your wet folds. You whimpered when he slid one digit inside and added a second right after already moving, making your back arch. “Think I need to remind you that you’re just a fuck toy, not some porcelain doll. They must’ve treated you so nicely, but you like it rough, don’t you?”

Juyeon removed his fingers from you and pulled his own shorts down just enough to free his member and teased your slit with the tip, making you bite your lip in anticipation. Your breath got cut short when he gripped your waist and pushed in in one quick thrust, his cock disappearing into your warmth and your pussy clenched at the feeling of every inch of him stretching you open.

He didn't give you time to even take a deep breath and started moving in a fast pace, grabbing your hips with force. You could feel your whole body getting hot, sweat starting to form on your temples, skin prickling. "How someone so annoying like you have a pussy so good?" He groaned giving a hard, sharp thrust making you gasp and lifted your right leg to put over the desk. You were there so open for him; bent over that he could do anything. And you enjoyed every part of it.

Breathy moans were leaving your lips mixing with obscene wet sounds from your dripping cunt and his hips slamming yours recklessly now, going deeper and deeper inside you. Juyeon was holding you so strong and digging his nails in your skin that you were sure it'd leave bruises. "F-fuck, Juyeon!" You screamed out when he pulled almost all of his length out just to pushed it back in with a quick motion. He smirked to himself and kept repeating it, just to see you writhe and lose your mind.

His hand pulled your ponytail to which you winced but couldn't contain a moan. Your knuckles were turning white holding onto the desk for dear life as Juyeon completely rammed into you. "Not so talkative right now, huh?" He grabbed both your arms, pinning them behind your back with his own hands. "Look at you clenching so desperately. Gonna cum on my cock like a good slut?" His voice was low, watching your whole body shake as you approached your high, loud and breathy sounds escaping your lips.

You came crying out his name, shaking violently and trying to roll your hips back to get more of him. Juyeon pulled out slowly, feeling your walls fluttering and you whimpered at the emptiness. Even though you were sensitive, Juyeon's dick was so good that it never failed to make you want more and more.

A last sigh left you before you got pushed to your knees facing his cock. "Now be the good little slut and you are and put this mouth to a better use."