#i have plenty of time in my hands these days

[fastandcarlos]

Post Race Massage : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: after another gruelling race, charles looks to you to help his aching muscles recover

You couldn’t help but laugh as Charles let go of a groan, his hands pressing against his back as the aches of the day caught up with him. He dropped down onto the bed beside you, his sad eyes glancing across at you as he struggled to deal with how much his body hurt.  

It had been a long weekend of racing for him, pushing his body to the absolute limit, but when he had a collision with Sergio during the race, his body was finally done in. After jolting in his seat Charles felt his body scream out in pain, a pain that had stuck with him for the rest of the day as you got back to your hotel. 

His steps were slow as he moved, his arm clung onto you for a little bit of support, it was unlike anything that you had seen from Charles before. As he laid himself down, it was the most comfortable that Charles had felt for hours, finally able to relax a little. 

“Who knew racing was so cruel on the body,” you teased, brushing your hand through Charles’ messy hair. “I thought you’re supposed to train so these things don’t hurt as much.” 

Charles frowned across at you, his usual confidence had been replaced by plenty of pity for himself, eyes searching in hope of a little bit more sympathy from you. 

You watched Charles for a few moments, thinking through of ways that you could help him. You remembered the things that you saw Charles’ team do in his driver’s room plenty of times before, confident you could do the same thing. 

“Why don’t you lay on your tummy?” You suggested, shuffling off of the bed so that Charles could roll over. “I’m sure there’s something that I could do to help you out and ease some of that tension.” 

Charles did as you said, with plenty of moans and groans, letting you know just how sore he was. You struggled to hold back your laughter as he did so, as much as you felt sorry for him, seeing him be so dramatic never failed to leave you in disbelief.  

Once Charles was comfortable, you pushed the legs of his trousers up so that you could get to his calves, pressing your hands into his muscles and massaging over them. Another moan came from Charles, this time one that was filled with relief and comfort. 

“Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop, that feels incredible,” Charles told you. 

You smiled back down as he rested his head against his arms. “If someone were to walk past our hotel room right now, they’d have some serious questions about what we’re doing.” 

“With how sore my body is right now, this feels so much better than sex my love.” 

A chuckle came from you as you continued to massage the tension and knots out of Charles’ muscles. You moved your hands up his leg, reaching the top of his thigh, pressing in as firmly as you could to try and help him. 

“I’ll bare that in mind,” you smirked, tapping against Charles’ bottom. 

He continued to sigh in relief, finally able to relax again. “Maybe it’s about time I accept that I’m not exactly a young racing driver anymore.” 

“How many times do you have to be told to do your warm ups properly before you listen?” 

Charles only had himself to blame for the pain that he was in, assuring you and the rest of his team that warming up was pointless. He was still young, fit, he didn’t need to stretch his muscles out, all he was doing was driving a car, or so he thought. 

“Take your top off,” you instructed, hearing a hum of delight come from Charles, only to feel you slap your hand against his back. 

Your eyes rolled as he took his top off and threw it on the floor. Your legs straddled around his body, sitting yourself just below Charles’ bottom so that you could get to his back. 

As soon as your hands landed at the top of his back, Charles’ smile turned up. Your hands massaged over him once again, digging into all the right places to try and untangle the knots that you could feel building up. 

“Good?” You questioned, although you already knew the answer, watching as Charles turned his head around to be able to look back at you with his smile. 

His head nodded in response, “I mean my body is still killing me, but you’re working some pretty good magic making it feel better right now.” 

“I’m glad I could help you out.” 

“I could get used to this.” 

“Having your girlfriend sit on your ass whilst she massages your body, I’m sure that you could,” you teased, “you can wipe that smile off of your face as well.” 

As much as he wanted to, Charles simply couldn’t, he was enjoying himself far too much. It was nice enough to have you help him, but feeling you sat on top of him was definitely an added bonus that he could get used to as well. 

“You know, seeing as you’re getting old we might have to invest in some things to help you when your body is sore,” you told him, “have you seen those massage guns that all the gym people are using these days?” 

“Trust me, no massage gun can make me feel as good as your hands,” Charles assured you, pushing back against you as you dug in against his spine, moving your fingertips around in circular motions. 

“Try and not sound so smug when you say that,” you challenged. 

Charles’ head shook, “I would love to try, but I’m feeling so smug right now, almost like I’m in some sort of dream.” 

He didn’t want to make his body suffer, but if this was how you treated him after it, maybe it would be worth it for Charles after all. He had a whole team of experts around him, and yet none of them took care of him as well as you did. 

“I think I’m almost done,” you told Charles, only to feel his hands reach back and rest on your hips, refusing to let you leave from where you were sat. “We can’t spend the night with me straddling you like this.” 

“What about if I turned over into a different position instead?” 

“I thought you were supposed to be tired and achy?” You reminded him, knowing exactly what Charles was hinting at from the suggestive tone of his voice. “You’ve suddenly changed your tune.” 

“I was, but then you gave me some godly massage and suddenly I feel like I’ve found a bit of energy again,” Charles smirked, sending you a knowing glance. 

You didn’t quite know what to say as Charles raised his eyebrows across at you, tensing his back so you could see his muscle definition, knowing just how much it turned you on. 

“If you moan in the morning that your body hurts, I’m going to have no sympathy for you,” you warned, sitting up so that Charles could turn so that he was facing you. 

“It’ll be worth it,” Charles promised you, “and anyway, I got another podium today, so we’re supposed to be celebrating that, aren’t we?” 

“That’s true, congratulations old man.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[masterflight8058]

I completely and wholeheartedly agree with you that (almost) everyone should be able to look at their actions and who they voted for and be proud of their contributions to the democratic process. If a person acts with integrity, seeking truth and honestly seeking the best for the country, personally performing their due diligence to research each initiative they cast a vote for (I personally spent somewhere between four and six hours reading the legal text of the eight propositions on the ballot, and roughly four local and state offices). A person who acts in the interest of the people putting the common good above personal interests, I agree should be proud of their vote.

However I cannot allow misrepresentations that you make to stand without clarification. First I never said that he never influenced federal abortion law, I said that he is not going to touch it, because the issue is resolved.

Any person who is injured or dies due to careless practice should (or in case of death, the family should on behalf) sue the pants off the doctor and hospital where the patient was being mistreated. It’s called medical malpractice and is routinely found to be in the top three causes of death in the United States (generally found to be the third highest cause of death in numerous studies 2016-2024). If a patient is denied care for no reasonable reason behind it and they suffer or perish that is medical malpractice, and is an open and shut case. But regardless, that has nothing to do with the federal government, the obvious course of treatment is legal and available.

This may surprise you but I am not a monster living in a cave, I too work with people and have seen first hand the devastating results that result from the selfishness and evil of people. I also have seen the beauty and good that can blossom out of the ashes of evil situations. I myself witnessed a rape victim decide to give birth after initially leaning towards an abortion; she lined up an adoptive family before the birth and I can speak to the blessing that they all were apart of. Blessings certainly can come from evil and horrible situations.

As for the comical remark about most people’s open mindedness online, it was a simple expression of a commonly held belief that people are far too closed minded online, however the second half of my statement holds the purpose for the entire post, “but for the possibility of just one person reading this and taking it to heart I will sacrifice my time.” There are plenty of people who are somewhere in the middle, caught between two warring camps, that is who my post was for. If one person reads this and is prompted to look up the facts for themselves and sees the truth instead of the common media lies, then I’ll say it was worth it.

Have a good day.

To the men who voted for Donald Trump today:

When your girlfriend gets pregnant, and you’re not ready to become a father, and you’re forced into a position that cripples you emotionally, financially and irreversibly, remember: you did this.

When your sister’s pregnancy turns out to be ectopic, and she can’t get the life-saving medical care she needs and dies a completely pointless, preventable death, remember: you did this.

When your 12-year-old daughter is raped by her soccer coach — after he’s legally allowed to strip off her pants and peep at her genitals, because the existence of trans kids terrifies you — and she steals your shotgun and kills herself in your garage, remember, first and foremost: you did this.

Hundreds of thousands of people are going to die because of the decision you made today.

You did that.

[magniloquent-raven]

"Oh, good, you are alive." Eddie says as soon as Tommy opens his front door. He pushes his way into the house without waiting for a response, and leaves Tommy blinking at empty space.

"...Sure, come on in," he mutters.

"Would it kill you to answer your phone some time?" Eddie's standing in the living room, hands on his hips, looking at Tommy like he's expecting something.

And Tommy's still lingering in his own doorway, suddenly very aware of how ripe his PJs have gotten. "It's my day off." It's a lame excuse and he knows it. He turns away to shut the door so he won't have to look Eddie in the eye.

"It's been, like, three weeks, man."

Tommy sighs quietly. "Yeah, look, it's just..."

"Is this the part where you tell me you both love me equally and it isn't my fault mommy and daddy are getting divorced." He's being flippant, but there's anger there. Tension in his voice. Tommy's not sure if it's on his own behalf or Evan's. Either would be fair, probably.

No. No, it isn't. It's not fair. He doesn't get to storm in here and judge Tommy's life choices. It's not like he's happy with himself about this, he didn't want to break things off. It just. Didn't work out.

"We don't, Eddie."

"What?"

Tommy folds his arms across his chest. "Love you equally. He needs you more than I do."

"What happened to me being allowed to have more than one friend?"

You know what happened, Tommy wants to snap, wants to be the kind of person who gets so angry he breaks, bleeds the tension out. He wants to untangle the knot that's been tightening in his chest for weeks.

Instead he hunches his shoulders. "Nothing, you have plenty of friends. A whole station of them." Tommy bites the inside of his lip so hard he tastes iron, and his eyes fall shut for a moment while he collects himself. "I was trying to make things easier for you."

Eddie narrows his eyes. "Yeah, nothing easier than getting ghosted. In fact, I love it when people I care about suddenly stop talking to me."

"You know what I meant. You have to take his side."

"Oh, I am. Breaking up with him like that was stupid, and he's really hurt."

Tommy barely contains his wince.

"But you were my friend before you were his boyfriend." Eddie's expression shifts, not quite softening. "I'm not here to defend Buck's honour, I'm here because my friend isn't making good choices and I'm worried about him."

He cried that night three weeks ago. Held off until he'd made it home and then bawled like a child, curled up in the dark and not bothering to wipe the snot from his nose. He hasn't cried since. Not when he found one of Evan's sweaters shoved between the cushions on his couch. Not when a date night reminder he forgot to delete from his phone dinged three days ago. Every time he wakes up to nothing but empty lock-screen he feels a little more hollow thinking about all the texts he used to get in the middle of the night.

But he hasn't been crying about it. Until now.

He's not sure what it is exactly. Something about Eddie refusing to let Tommy stonewall him. Something about all the things he's gone through alone never mattering to anyone. Not enough to warrant more than courtesy comfort.

"Woah, hey, was it something I said?"

Tommy shakes his head, and wipes his cheek with the heel of his hand. "It's been a weird few weeks."

It has, is the thing. He used to be good at being alone. But six months of borrowed time was enough for him to be in a lot deeper than he thought. He doesn't just miss Evan he misses being invited to his family dinners, and hearing about life with the 118.

"How 'bout I drink your beer while you tell me about it."

"...Okay."

[mrsriddlenott]

okay I just need pussydrunk mattheo 🥵

It is honestly embarrassing how long this has been in my drafts unfinished(literally a few days over a year🤦‍♀️) I have been awol for so long but I have been GOIN through it y’all. I think I can finally at least try and actually come back to this blog. I love writing so much and I hate when it just isn’t fun anymore. And when I saw this I actually got excited to finish it so let’s see how it goes. Please correct mistakes and give feedback

Warnings: suggestive content but not actually full smut, public oral(f!receiving), heavy petting, play argument/kinda roleplay, some teasing.

{masterlist}

~Needy~

To plenty of people having a needy boyfriend would be the end of the world. But when that boyfriend is Mattheo Riddle, who seems to have an unnaturally high labido and stamina, it’s more of a pro rather than a con.

But what comes with needy is clingy. Mattheo just needs his hands on you whenever he can. You weren’t complaining but he certainly was. There was just too much time out of the day that he couldn’t touch you. So me made sure to cut thay time down as much as he could.

“Come oooon Baby” Mattheo groaned as he tugged you towards an empty, shadow filled corridor, “Just think about it, how many days a week do we have Potions, and how many weeks are in a term, how many terms in a school year….we can miss one hour of Potions Baby it’ll be fine. Plus you’re the smartest, prettiest, hottest person at this school you’ve got options for you future.”

“Um first of all,” You start, crossing your arms across your chest, poking your hip out to make Mattheo groan out loud as he restrains himself from touching you, “This will be the fourth time we missed Potions so far this term, and second of all who said I was worried for my future, nuh uh Baby I’m worried about yours.”

“Merlin you’re sexy when you’re being all bossy”Mattheo sighs, stepping closer to you and fanning your face with his breath, “I don’t care about my future as long as you’re in it, I need to keep you excited don’t I Princess?” He laughs out as he watches your resolve melt away, moving his hand up to grip your waste.

“That’s no fair.” You pout, desperately trying to hold a straight face as you continue, “You know you’re not allowed to call me Princess in an argument, you always win with that.” Mattheo sighs dramatically and steps even closer to you, breathing your air as he holds your hip tightly, tugging you into him aggressively.

“I’m so sorry baby, please forgive me,” He begs dramatically, smiling before dipping his head into the crook beside your shoulder to trace small pecks across your collarbone, forcing a moan to slip past your lips despite your pretend protests.

“How could I ever forgive you for such a lapse Mattheo,” you smile at how fast he halts his mouths assault of your collarbone giving you time to slip your fingers into his raven curls, giving them a tug to force his eyes up to yours, “You know, I can think of something you can do to earn my forgiveness.”

“What?” He rasps out, his breath caught in his chest at the feeling of your hand in his hair and the other slowly slipping down his chest at an agonizing pace, “What can I do to make you feel better Baby, I’ll do anything for you, you know that.” His voice his breathy and desperate, sending heat down your abdomen as your thighs squeeze together subconsciously. At the gentle shove to his shoulder, Mattheo knew exactly what you wanted, smirking as you looked down to him where he leant into you with those pretend innocent eyes. Mattheo fell to his knees immediately, his hands tracing their way under your skirt while his eyes stay on yours.

“Is this what you’re asking for…Princess?” Mattheo asks, smirking as he gains dominance from below you, “You want me to make you feel good?….But Baby what about Potions, we-we can’t miss class i-it’s impo-“ You cut off his teasing with a tug to his hair and small sigh at the feeling of his hand ghosting across your underwear. Mattheo groans, his eyes falling into the back of his head as your fingers tighten in his hair.

“Okay okay, I’ve got you Princess.” He laughs breathlessly as his fingers tug your underwear down your legs, allowing you to step out of them before he shoves them in his pocket with a wink. In a flash Mattheo has his lips on you, his head vanishing under your skirt, his hand trailing upward to squeeze at your chest through your button up, the other gripping your thigh to give you support as you begin to wobble.

“Oh fuck Mattheo,” You moan loudly before clamping your hand over your mouth, almost forgetting your very public location at the feeling of Mattheo’s tongue meticulously swirling around your clit. His chuckle from below almost pisses you off enough to fight for dominance but as though to wipe your mind of it, Mattheo flattens his tongue and leaves a strip up your heat, making you whimper into your hand and bite your skin to prevent getting caught.

You shake as Mattheo’s fingernails dig into the skin of your thigh while it wobbles, unsteady as you begin to lose balance at the fast pace of Mattheo’s tongue, “Fuck Baby, can you stand or do I need to hold you?” He chuckles against you at your whine of protest, not wanting him to stop even for a second. Mattheo quickly tugs your thigh over his shoulder, allowing him to gain more access, speeding up his actions, moaning at your taste and the thought of you coming on his face as you depend on him to hold you steady. Your head falls back against the stone wall, your eyes rolling backward as your hand falls to his shoulders for balance not caring anymore about your volume. Your little whimpers and squeaks drive him insane below you, he knows your close, he can feel it.

Without warning Mattheo shifts lower, shoving his tongue into you, lowering his hand from your chest in a flash and using his thumb to stimulate your clit as his tongue moves in and out of you, matching his own pace and groaning as he feels your legs begin to shake for him. Your moans become screams as you release on his tongue, falling into his hold while he rises to look at your post-orgasm face he loves so much.

“Good thing we did this during class, someone might have heard otherwise.” Mattheo says simply with a laugh as you weakly smack at his broad shoulder.

~~~~

Pretty short compared to others I have but I just really wanted to start posting again. I’m probably gonna be cleaning out my drafts and trying to get them out even old ones ppl probably aren’t waiting on anymore to try and get back into a groove on here.

[xoluvx]

for the ‘first of many’ list, reader and billie’s first kiss would be so cute

omg yessss!! enjoy love. this is also for all my babies that need a little comfort right now ilysm 💖

how do you even have your first kiss? you asked yourself that constantly. you'd had kisses. plenty of kisses but none with the girl of your dreams. no anticipated kiss had made you lose sleep like this one. no kiss had you spinning in circles like this one. who decides when the kiss is going to happen? where is it going to happen? how is it going to happen? it just kind of .. happens, right?

to say you were a nervous wreck was an understatement. you got silly little butterflies every time you were around her. it felt like a middle school crush. one where your hands brushed and you pulled away quickly because the sparks were too intense. one where she looked at you and you felt the stupid butterflies in your stomach again and you were flushed and could hardly breathe. one where you were too shy to get close to her on the couch because it felt too intimate.

she was always the first one to concede. the first one to hold your hand and stare into your eyes. they were so sparkly dusted with magic. her lips always flattened in a shy smile as her cheeks turned pink. she was always the first one to wrap her arm around your shoulder and pull you close while you watched a movie. smelling your hair and brushing your arm with her delicate fingers. tapping on your skin to the beat of the soundtrack.

she led you followed. that was always the case. that's always how it went.

your first kiss.. however, was a different story. she hadn't made a move. hadn't even attempted. every time you thought it was going to happen you felt so giddy. you swallowed the butterflies because you didn't want them to spill all over her and then..

..and then it didn't happen. you were sure the disappointment was written on your face each time and there's no way she didn't notice. there's no way she didn't want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss her. after building up the courage, you finally did the thing you didn't think you'd ever do. you just asked her.

"do you want to kiss me?" your voice was sheepish as you sat on the couch abruptly. the uncertainty had been eating away at you. you'd been watching a movie and every time you glanced up at her she was so focused on the screen you just looked down swallowing the urge to say something or to just walk out in frustration

"what?" billie turning to look at you. there was unreadable expression on her face. like she was confused but not as to why you were asking that question, but as to why you thought she wouldn't want to kiss you.

"do you want to kiss me, billie?" you asked with a little more certainty in your voice. you cleared your throat and held your weight on the couch with your arm. your brows furrowed waiting for her response. your heart was beating rapidly. your hands were clammy. were you going to start crying? oh god. you couldn't contain your feelings. they were spill all over her if she didn't answer in the next second.

and that's when she kissed you. she cupped your face. she leaned in. her soft lips grazed yours for a brief second. you inhaled sharply feeling lightheaded. all the air was knocked out of your lungs as your noses brushed. when your arms wrapped around her shoulders, she kissed you with certainty. her lips so sugary sweet on yours as they found the perfect rhythm. heads moving in opposite directions as you joined together so close you were almost one.

it was everything you wanted and none of what you expected. it was unexpectedly perfect.

"i've been wanting to kiss you since the first day i saw you," she confessed pulling away only to lean her forehead against yours. you were catching your breath as a smile spread across your face at the confession because you'd be a liar to say you hadn't too. "why didn't you?" you asked pulling away to look into her eyes. you could get lost in them for days. you could trace every constellation and explore every sea in her eyes.

"i was nervous. i wasn't sure if you wanted me to kiss you. i've tried-" she rambled nervously pursing her lips as she spilled her guts. she felt safe doing so. she felt it when you kissed her back with the same urgency and passion she'd been feeling for weeks. "you've tried?" you cut her off furrowing your brows trying to pinpoint the times this had happened. she chuckled and squeezed your face pulling you close to kiss you once more time before listing all the times she tried to kiss you.

like the time you were out for dinner and she grabbed your hand, but you pulled away to wipe your mouth. the time she set up a picnic in her backyard and sat next to you feeding you the chocolate strawberries she'd made especially for you. when she went to wipe the chocolate from your chin, you giggled and reached for a napkin. the time she stared directly into your eyes when you slept over for the first time and you cuddled into the comforter closing your eyes before asking her to cuddle you.

you'd wondered 'how, where, when' it'd happened and it'd been in front of you the whole time. the opportunities boundless. and yes, it could have just happened during any of these times, but it didn't. it happened now. her sitting in front of you. eyes pure. words comforting. smiles tender while you tearfully listened as she professed her love and just how badly she'd wanted to kiss you.

your lips molded so perfectly as your hearts beat contently in sync.

first of many; masterlist

[arc-misadventures]

It Was That Easy?!

Jaune, and Coco:

~~~

Velvet: That was fucking it?!!

Coco: Yeah...

Velvet: You two have been dancing around each other for months! And, what finally gets you two to start dating was the fact that you two wouldn't hang out as much if you started dating other people?!

Coco: Yes...?

Velvet: We tried to set you up for months! A simple conversation got you together?!

Coco: You tried to set me up?

Velvet: We locked you in a closet!

Coco: Oh, I remember that closet... That was quite cramped...

Velvet: The time we stole all his clothes so you would walk in on him naked!

Coco: My man looks like a marble statue. Mmmh~! Those abbs~!

Velvet: The tickets you gave you guys to go to that resort in, Vaccuo! You two were all alone, and you didn't do anything?!

Coco: We defiantly had plenty of beach suit fashion shows. For the record: Speedos do not word on, Jaune. That bulge... I have various mixed feelings after seeing that...

Velvet: We spiked your food!

Coco: You spiked our food?!

Velvet: There was faunas grade aphrodisiacs in your food! And, nothing happened?!

Coco: Wait, was that in the fish dish you made us. Because we had the runs after eating that.

Velvet: All that planning, all that work, all our scheming, and none of that work?!

Coco: Sorry...?

Velvet: That's it! You're going to the closet!

Coco: What?

~~~

Velvet: Get in there!

Coco: Whoa hey, Vel, what are you...?! Ooph!

Jaune: Uhh... Hey, Coco...?

Coco: Jaune...?

Velvet: This time you better do it!

Nora: Or, I'll spike your food again!

(Slam!)

Jaune: ...?

Coco: ...?

Jaune: So... I take it, Velvet let you know about her schemes to get us together too right?

Coco: Yeah, apparently she was the reason why were locked in a closet for the first time. And, she stole all your clothes so I would walk in on you naked. Got us those tickets so we could stay at that resort. And, she spiked out food.

Jaune: Oh, it was , Velvet who did that. Nora told me a different story about what she did.

Coco: What did she do?

Jaune: That resort we were staying at actually had two beds in it, Nora some how got rid of one of them.

Coco: What? The bed was made into the wall; How did she do that?

Jaune: Best not ask. She actually go that distress call from when we got stuck in the cabin in the mountain.

Coco: She did?

Jaune: Yeah, she wanted us to... mingle to stay warm before she rescued us the next day.

Coco: Posing naked in furs was certainly a way to mingle...

Jaune: And, she spiked our food...

Coco: And, after she learned that we got together because we didn't want to stop hanging out, she shoved you in the closet as well...

Jaune: Yeah... And, while i wouldn't mind us having some fun here in the closet~!

Coco: Oh, really~?

Jaune: But, they put us in the wrong closet...

Coco: Eh?

Jaune: It's too cramped, I can't move...

Coco: Grr... come one. I can...?! Grrrr...! I'm stuck too...

Jaune: Can you reach my scroll?

Coco: Nope, my hands our stuck here feeling up your broad chest~! You?

Jaune: Maybe...? Let's see if I can... Ahh found it! Uhh... Password?

Coco: 0-2-2-4.

Jaune: Okay... Calling...? Glynda...

Coco: Good choice.

Glynda: Hello, Coco do you need something?

Coco: Hi, Triple G! Uhhh... So, Jaune, and I started dating...

Glynda: You two started dating?!

Coco: Yes... and...?!

Glynda: Fucking finally!

Coco: ...

Jaune: ...

Coco: We should have started dating months ago...

Jaune: Yeah...

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER ELEVEN ━━ Home, For Christmas

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 4.3K

☆ ━ warnings: subtle talks of dani’s bitchass homophobic dad what’s new

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: in honor of gameday 🫡sorry this took so long you guys!!!! hopefully the next one won’t lol ALSO! y’all i wrote julia in for a reason, she will end up being important :)

CHRISTMAS DAY at her grandparents’ house is always cozy and warm, filled with laughter and the smell of cinnamon and pine. Dani’s family fills the living room, sprawled across couches, perched on armchairs, and gathered around the fireplace. Her aunts and uncles are trading stories, her little cousins are running around in holiday pajamas, and there’s a pile of presents under the tree, each one wrapped in brightly colored paper.

Dani sits in the corner of the couch, balancing her youngest aunt Julia’s newborn, Grey, in her lap. She’s been fawning over him all day, enchanted by his tiny fingers and the little yawns he lets out every now and then. His downy dark hair sticks up at odd angles, and his soft little hands rest against her arm as she holds him, his eyes drifting closed with that peaceful look babies seem to have mastered.

Julia, who’s only twenty-five and just as warm and lovely as Dani remembers from her childhood, sits beside her, watching Dani with a smile. “You’ve got the magic touch, Dani,” she says, nudging her gently. “He hasn’t fallen asleep for anyone else yet today.”

Dani grins, glancing down at Grey as he lets out a tiny sigh. “Guess he knows I’m his favorite already,” she jokes, stroking the baby’s soft cheek.

Julia shifts a little, leaning back against the couch, and after a moment, she glances sideways at Dani. “How’s your dad been doing?” she asks quietly, her tone careful.

Dani rolls her eyes, her expression slipping into something neutral. “It’s… whatever,” she says, keeping her voice low. “We don’t really talk much.”

Julia nods, understanding written all over her face. “Yeah. Me neither.” There’s a heaviness to her voice, and Dani knows why. Julia is certainly not married to Grey’s father, him having left long before Grey was born. It’s something that Dani’s dad has shamed Julia for, his conservative views casting his half sister as some kind of disgrace. Dani’s heard the things he’s said about her—heard him scoff at Julia’s life choices like they were some kind of moral failure.

She looks at Julia, her heart aching for her. “I’m sorry,” Dani says quietly. “He’s like that with everything, not just you.”

Julia lets out a soft sigh, her gaze drifting to Grey, who’s now fully asleep, his little face relaxed and peaceful. “I know,” she murmurs. “But it still sucks. I just wish he could see… it’s not like I planned for things to turn out this way. But I love Grey. And I wouldn’t trade him for anything.” She smiles down at her son, her expression soft and full of love. “It’s just a difficult situation.”

Dani nods, her throat tight. “Yeah. I get it.” She glances down at Grey, feeling the familiar warmth in her chest. She doesn’t understand why her dad has to be so harsh, so unwilling to forgive. She’s been on that side of things when her own secret came to light, and when that same judgment had been turned on her, it was terrible.

Dani adjusts her grip on Grey, who shifts a little in his sleep, tiny fingers curling around the edge of her sweater.

After a moment, Julia speaks again, her voice soft. “So… are you and Paige still not talking?” she asks, her tone careful, but curious. “Last I heard, you two weren’t friends anymore.”

Dani’s stomach tightens a little, her gaze shifting to the floor. Julia’s met Paige plenty of times—Paige was practically family, as far as her grandparents and aunts were concerned. Dani can still remember how much her mom adored Paige, how her mom used to say that Paige was the best thing to happen to her, that Paige brought out this light in her daughter that she hadn’t seen in anyone else. It’s something that, in her quiet moments, Dani clings to—thinking that maybe her mom really would have understood her situation.

“Paige was always so sweet,” Julia continues, almost wistfully. “And I remember how much your mom loved her, Dani. She always said Paige was the best friend you could ever have.”

Dani sighs, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on her. Her chest tightens with the urge to spill everything—to tell Julia about how it was so much more than just friendship, how Paige is basically her entire world, how they love each other in a much different way than most know. Dani knows Julia isn’t homophobic, and she can’t imagine Julia judging her, especially after everything Julia herself has been through with her dad and such.

But the words catch in her throat. Her fear is too strong, a familiar, icy weight. She imagines what would happen if anything she said got back to her dad, even by accident. She remembers the camp, the isolation, the way it felt like she was being slowly erased. The thought of going back there makes her stomach twist with dread.

She takes a slow breath, then finally says, “No, we’re still not friends.” Her voice is flat, and she hates how empty it sounds. “And we’re… we’re not ever going to be friends again.”

Julia frowns, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Dani’s arm. “I’m sorry, Dani. That must be so hard. Losing a friend like that… I can only imagine.”

Dani just nods, swallowing back the ache in her throat. “Yeah,” she murmurs, her gaze fixed on Grey, who’s still blissfully asleep. “It is.”

Julia gives her a soft smile, a silent offer of comfort, but Dani barely notices, her mind drifting to thoughts of Paige. She feels like she’s buried that love as deeply as she can—hidden it away in a place where her dad and the church can’t touch it.

And she’s going to stay that way. Because that is what is going to keep it safe.

DANI SINKS into her blankets, watching Christmas Vacation play on her laptop, the warmth of the bed comforting against the bite of winter outside. She’d asked her dad to watch the movie with her, hoping for at least a little shared Christmas cheer, but he’d just brushed her off with a brief mutter of how tired he was. So here she is, alone, her room dimly lit, a quiet feeling of loneliness settling in.

The Griswold family is just finishing fitting their huge Christmas tree in their living room when Dani’s phone lights up beside her. She glances down and finds Paige’s name on her screen. Her heart does a little flip as she picks it up, biting back a smile.

Paige ❤��‍🔥

You home yet?

Dani ❤️‍🔥

yeah i got home like an hour ago

Paige ❤️‍🔥

you doing anything?

Dani pauses, glancing at her screen.

Dani ❤️‍🔥

watching christmas vacation in my bed

She sends the message and internally cringes a little as she realizes how lonely it sounds.

Paige ❤️‍🔥

By yourself?

Come over and watch it with me and my fam

Dani laughs softly, rolling her eyes. Of course Paige wouldn’t let her stay alone, not tonight. Paige always has that unwavering energy, that impulsive streak that Dani has never been able to resist.

Dani ❤️‍🔥

paige my dad’s home

Paige ❤️‍🔥

Sneak out!!!

I’ll come get you by your window

Dani stares at the screen, a little stunned, a little thrilled. Her fingers hover over the screen, her thumb hesitating over the keyboard.

Dani ❤️‍🔥

you’re insane

Paige ❤️‍🔥

And yet ur not saying no 😁😁

A grin tugs at Dani’s lips, and she feels her pulse quicken. She glances at her door, hoping and praying for her sake that her dad was true on his word and that he’s asleep, then quietly swings her legs off the bed. Closing her laptop, she grabs her thickest hoodie from her chair, pulling it over her head. She finds her Uggs under the bed, slipping them on and making her way to the window, heart pounding in anticipation. Her fingers fumble a bit as she undoes the lock, the cold air hitting her face the moment she slides it open.

Peering outside, she feels her heart skip as she spots Paige standing below. Paige is bundled up in her coat, hands deep in her pockets, and despite the shivering, she’s grinning up at Dani like this is the most natural thing in the world. Snow has started to fall again, gentle flakes catching in Paige’s hair and dusting her shoulders. She looks really pretty.

“Hey!” Paige calls up softly, her voice a mix of excitement and impatience. “You comin’ down, or what?”

Dani can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. She leans out a little, gripping the window frame for balance. “This is so stupid, you know that?” she whispers, trying not to laugh too loud.

Paige just shrugs, her grin undeterred. “Live a little!”

Dani laughs softly, the sound swallowed by the stillness of the night. She glances down, assessing the climb, feeling a pang of nervousness when she sees just how far the ground looks. Her window isn’t exactly low, and she can’t be sure the snow is soft. She swallows, feeling her pulse quicken as she considers her next move.

“Paige,” she whispers, trying to keep her voice down but still sounding panicked, “I’m going to fall!”

“If you do, I’ll catch you!” Paige whispers back, her voice carrying a confidence that only makes Dani’s heart beat faster. “Besides, there’s like a foot of fresh snow down here. You’ll be fine.”

Paige waves, motioning for her to climb down. Dani takes a deep breath, telling herself she’s done more dangerous things in her life than sneaking out of her own house. She slowly climbs through the window, her fingers gripping the cold edges of the siding as she carefully makes her way down. She’s almost to the bottom, just a couple of feet away from the ground, when her foot slips on the last ledge.

She lets out a small yelp, her fingers losing their grip, and she starts to tumble. There’s a split second of weightlessness, her heart in her throat, and then Paige’s arms are around her, just enough to slow her fall before they both collapse into the snow in a heap. The impact sends a puff of snow up around them, freezing and soft at the same time. Dani’s breath catches as she feels Paige’s arms around her, the warmth of her body cutting through the biting cold.

For a moment, they just lie there in the snow, laughing softly, breathless and tangled together. Their faces are close, so close that Dani can feel Paige’s breath against her cheek, warm and sweet, mingling with the cold night air. Paige’s cheeks are flushed pink, her nose red from the cold, and there’s a light in her eyes that makes Dani’s heart skip a beat.

Paige reaches up, brushing a few stray snowflakes from Dani’s face, her fingers lingering on her cheek. “You good?” she asks softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Dani nods, her own cheeks flushed. She’s suddenly hyper-aware of every point of contact between them—their knees, their hands, the faint tremor in Paige’s touch as her fingers trace along Dani’s cheek. She shivers, but this time, it has nothing to do with the cold.

Paige nods back, looking thoughtful, her hand dropping to swipe a bit of snow off Dani’s shoulder. She glances around, making sure no one’s watching, before leaning in. Her eyes search Dani’s face for a moment, just a flicker of hesitation, before she closes the distance, her lips brushing softly against Dani’s.

The kiss is barely more than a whisper, a featherlight touch that’s over almost as soon as it begins. But it leaves Dani breathless, her heart racing in her chest as she looks up at Paige. There’s a warmth in Paige’s eyes that makes Dani’s stomach flutter, a tenderness that feels like the best Christmas gift she’s ever received.

Paige pulls back, her eyes sparkling with mischief, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Come on,” she whispers, her voice warm, filled with a quiet joy that Dani feels mirrored in her own chest. Paige helps her to her feet, brushing snow off their coats as they stand together, grinning like conspirators in the snowy silence.

They link arms, Paige’s hand slipping into Dani’s pocket to hold her hand, the feeling of Paige’s fingers warming her whole body up. Together, they start making their way toward Paige’s house, the snow crunching beneath their feet, their laughter echoing softly in the stillness of the night.

They go through the back door of Paige’s house, each of them letting out a relieved sigh as the warmth surrounds them, chasing away the icy chill of the Minnesota night. Dani takes a moment to close her eyes, basking in the feeling of warmth creeping back into her fingers and toes, the familiar smell of cookies, cinnamon, and evergreen filling the air.

There in the kitchen, Drew is perched on a stool by the island, his legs swinging idly as he chews on a Christmas cookie dusted with red and green sprinkles. Bob, Paige’s dad, stands near the stove, pulling sprinkles out of a cabinet. A tray of freshly baked cookies cools on the counter, the sweet scent drifting through the room. Bob’s face lights up when he sees Dani and Paige sneaking in, a broad grin stretching across his face.

“Dani! Merry Christmas!” he exclaims, waving her over as if she were his own daughter. “I saved a couple cookies for you, but they almost fell victim to that creature—” he points to Drew, who giggles at the wording, frosting dusting the corners of his mouth “—over there.”

Dani laughs, an easy grin drifting to her face as she says, “I can see that. Thanks for letting me come over; I didn’t mean to intrude on family Christmas.”

Paige rolls her eyes, her hand on Dani’s hip as she pushes her toward the island. “Shut up, Dan, you’re never intruding.”

“She’s right,” Bob says cheerily, grabbing a couple plain cookies from the tray and placing them in front of the two empty stools next to Drew. “You’re family, Dani.”

Dani feels her face flush at his words, and her chest warms, too. It’s nice to know that they’re glad she’s here, that they don’t feel as though she’s intruding, that maybe she really belongs in this corner of her world. She’d really, really like to.

Dani sits on the bar stool next to Drew, and Paige sits on the other one so the brunette girl is in between the two Bueckers siblings. However, it seems as though the small distance between Dani and Paige is too much, because Dani feels Paige’s hand graze her thigh as she grabs hold of the stool Dani’s sat on, pulling it so close to her own that the two of them are practically sharing a seat. Their shoulders press against each other, as do the sides of their legs, and it’s enough to send a warm jolt through Dani.

Dani sends a little look to Paige, her brows raised ever so slightly, smirk playing her lips.

“What?” Paige asks, though she’s got a look that mirrors the Callan girl’s. “You were too far.”

Dani just shakes her head at the blonde’s words, watching as she grabs the remote and flicks through the Christmas movies until she finds Christmas Vacation, having told Dani that she should watch it with them instead and holding onto her word.

Dani feels a smile lifting her lips as she reaches for a cookie in the tray in front of her, placing it on her plate. She grabs a piping bag, too, squeezing a tiny bit of green icing onto her finger just to get a taste.

“Oh, you’re gettin’ into the icing already?” Paige teases, leaning in with an arched brow. She grabs her own piping bag and, without warning, dabs a bit of red frosting on the tip of Dani’s nose, laughing as Dani’s eyes widen.

Dani gasps, swatting at her with a laugh. “Paige!” she exclaims, grabbing her green icing before leaning over and spreading some onto Paige’s cheek in retaliation.

Paige’s mouth open in mock outrage, but before she can protest herself, Drew interrupts with a grin, reaching for another piping bag, and asking, “Are we having an icing fight?”

The seven-year-old’s words seem to catch Bob’s attention, who turns from where he was watching the movie to see what’s happening behind him. Dani watches his eyes trail over the green on her nose and the red on his daughter’s cheek and he gives them a playfully stern look before telling Drew, “No, buddy, no icing fight. You’ll get on Santa’s Naughty List next year if you do.”

Drew laughs a little, pointing at the two girls sitting next to him and saying, “Ooh, Naughty List.”

Paige just playfully sticks her tongue out at her little brother before grabbing a napkin. She dramatically uses it to wipe the red icing off of her cheek, before balling it up and tossing it back onto the island. Dani rolls her eyes at the blonde’s dramatics, reaching to grab her own napkin to clean up her nose. But Paige swats at the hand Dani was reaching. Dani sends Paige a look, watching as the girl beside her cautiously glances at her dad and Drew—whose attention’s have both been captured by the movie—before leaning in and grinning as she kisses the tip of Dani’s nose and then sticks her tongue out to lick the icing away. She pulls back and Dani’s sure her face is red—especially due to the proximity of Paige’s family—but Paige is just smiling mischievously, using her tongue to swipe away any remaining frosting on her lips.

Dani finally takes the liberty to actually decorate her cookie, deciding for the traditional Christmas tree route. She’s spreading the green icing along the sugar cookie carefully, her eyes occasionally flicking between Christmas Vacation and Paige decorating her own cookie. It’s more endearing to watch the latter—she’s decorating with exaggerated precision (though if Dani’s honest, she can’t tell what the glob of frosting is meant to look like… it might be an ornament), her tongue sticking out in concentration, her hair falling into her face ever so slightly. Dani flicks her eyes away, back to her own handiwork.

At one point, Paige leans over to whisper to Dani, “Look at Drew’s cookie… the sprinkles…”

Dani does as the blonde says, her gaze finding Drew, to the left of her. He’s humming quietly to himself, concentrating on drowning his cookie in red and green sprinkles, his fingers sticky and his cheeks dusted with sugar. Dani stifles a giggle as she leans in even closer to see the cookie piled high with so many sprinkles that it’s almost unrecognizable. She catches Paige’s eye, and they both burst into quiet laughter, trying not to let Drew hear.

“Hey, it’s nice!” Drew defends, noticing their stifled laughter.

From where he’s standing, Bob chuckles, watching the exchange with a fond smile. “You’re doing great, Drew,” he says, reaching over to ruffle his son’s hair, eyes flicking across the three cookies the kids before him are making. “Though, I think you and Paige both have some competition in Dani here.”

Dani watches as Paige looks at her dad in betrayal, though it’s true—her cookie is terrible. Dani just grins, nodding, nudging Paige’s knee under the counter. “Years of practice,” the brunette says in a mock-serious tone before carefully adding a few more sprinkles to her cookie.

Paige rolls her eyes, mumbling, “Whatever. Mine tastes better.”

CHRISTMAS VACATION ended not too long ago, and Drew and Bob went upstairs to bed, leaving Dani and Paige alone. The warm glow of the tree casts a soft light over the living room, and Home Alone now plays quietly on the screen, adding to the late-night comfort. Dani’s curled up against Paige, the two of them snuggled under a thick fleece blanket, Paige’s arm wrapped securely around her. Dani lets herself drift, lulled by the movie, the warmth, the way Paige’s fingers trace soft circles over her shoulder.

But then Paige shifts slightly beneath her, murmuring, “So… I know we promised not to get each other anything…”

Dani’s eyes immediately flick from the TV to Paige, her brow furrowing as she pulls back slightly, a hint of accusation in her gaze. “Tell me you didn’t get me something.”

Paige, looking a little sheepish, averts her eyes and rubs the back of her neck, mumbling, “Well…”

“Paige!” Dani sits up fully now, her voice holding a mixture of surprise and mild reproach. “We promised not to!”

“I know, I know!” Paige protests, her face flushed as she tries to defend herself. “And I wasn’t going to, I swear! But then I was at the mall literally yesterday, just doing some last-minute shopping for my family, and—” She pauses, looking a bit embarrassed but determined to explain. “I saw this thing that really reminded me of you…”

Dani sighs, her shoulders dropping a little as she shakes her head. “Paige…”

“I know,” Paige says quickly, hands lifted in a half-hearted attempt at appeasement. “But it was on sale because of the holidays! I hardly spent any money on it.”

Dani narrows her eyes, trying not to let the affection she feels soften her mock glare. “Still. I feel bad. If I’d known you’d gotten me something, I would’ve gotten you something.”

“Don’t feel bad,” Paige says, shaking her head earnestly. “I was the one who went against our promise, not you.”

They fall silent for a moment, the only sound in the room coming from the movie on the TV. Dani’s gaze flickers to Paige, whose face is shadowed in the dim light. There’s something vulnerable in the way Paige looks at her, something almost tentative, and it makes Dani’s heart ache in a way she can’t quite name.

Finally, Paige speaks up again, her voice soft. “Can I go get it?”

Dani nods, and Paige disentangles herself from their cozy nest of blankets, slipping upstairs while Dani stays on the couch, her mind racing a little. She knows Paige put thought into this, that whatever it is, it’s going to mean something.

Moments later, Paige is bounding down the stairs again, a tiny jewelry box held carefully in her hand. She pauses by the couch, her gaze flickering between the box and Dani, and Dani watches her, heart thudding with a mix of anticipation and warmth.

“Here,” Paige says softly, holding out the box as she sits back down beside Dani, even closer than before, their entire sides pressed up against each other.

Dani takes the box, feeling the slight weight of it in her hands, and slowly lifts the lid. Inside is a delicate silver necklace, the pendant small and simple—almost nondescript, but close up she can see the engraving on it, the tiny, intricate letters that spell out a single word: home.

Dani’s breath catches as she stares down at the pendant, her fingers trembling slightly as she lifts it. She can feel her throat tighten, emotion welling up inside her as the weight of the word hits her fully. It’s more than a necklace; it’s a message, a reminder of everything Paige has been to her, a promise that wherever Paige is, she’ll always have a place to belong.

She glances up at Paige, her eyes stinging, her voice barely above a whisper. “You… you really thought of me when you saw this?”

Paige nods, her gaze soft and steady, her fingers reaching out to brush lightly against Dani’s. “Yeah,” she says, her voice equally soft, almost like she’s afraid of breaking the moment. “I know things have been… hard, with your dad and everything. I just… I wanted you to have something that reminds you that you’ll always have a home with me. No matter what.”

Dani feels the tears slip down her cheeks, and she doesn’t bother to wipe them away. She just lets the words sink in, lets herself feel the weight of Paige’s thoughtfulness, her kindness, the unwavering support Paige always seems to offer, even when Dani feels like she doesn’t deserve it.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Paige moves closer, pulling Dani into a hug, her arms wrapping securely around her. She rests her chin on top of Dani’s head, her fingers gently stroking her back, and Dani melts into her, closing her eyes and breathing in Paige’s familiar scent.

“I love you,” Paige murmurs into her hair, her voice soft and steady, filled with a warmth that wraps around Dani like a blanket.

Dani’s own arms tighten around Paige, and she whispers back, “I love you, too.”

They stay like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading away. Then, slowly, Paige pulls back, her gaze meeting Dani’s, and there’s a question in her eyes, one Dani answers by leaning in, pressing her lips softly to Paige’s.

The kiss is gentle, almost tentative at first, a quiet meeting of emotions unspoken. But as the seconds stretch, Dani lets herself get lost in it, her hand slipping up to rest against Paige’s cheek, her fingers brushing along her jaw. Paige’s hand finds the small of Dani’s back, pulling her in closer, and Dani feels her heart pounding, the warmth of Paige’s touch grounding her, steadying her.

When they finally pull back, their faces are close, their breaths mingling, and Dani can’t help but smile, the kind of smile that’s soft and true, filled with a happiness she rarely allows herself to feel.

Paige grins back, her fingers brushing over Dani’s cheek as she murmurs, “Merry Christmas, Dani.”

Dani’s voice is quiet, but full of warmth. “Merry Christmas, Paige.”

[pix-writes]

for requests. . . how about an x reader where reader pegs Ford 👀? Is he open to the idea?

Oh I think we can arrange such a thing! >:) Hope you enjoy!

Ford x F!Reader | In Theory and in Practice

Notes/tags: Ford and reader have some limited past experiences, but tried to keep it a little vague. That said though, I do allude to them to be both bi/had experiences with someone of the same sex as them. Anal smut, some Dom/sub dynamics and switching.

NSFW 18+ below cut, so MDNI!

The subject comes up from you, the conversations you get into around pleasure with Ford often end up in the logical sphere, starting lightly before anything more heated can arise. It was something to enjoy about your partnership, comforting in the pragmatic and somewhat direct, open way in which Ford spoke about such things. It reduced both of your anxieties and any reservations that you had about bringing up anything that you wanted.

Your partner still got flustered, however, and you were a little tentative in how you brought up this next subject.

"I never got to try it in any of my other relationships with men, some seem to think it's not important to involve the prostate in sex."

"The prostate when stimulated gives men pleasure, so I see no reason why it should not be, um, paid attention to. I certainly haven't had any reservations when I have been on my own, in the past."

"And with others?"

Ford did blush a little at this. "In relationships with other men, yes. And with you."

"Yes, but technically it was you who was doing it, Ford." You paused to take a breath before asking your next question. "What if I did?"

Your partner looked stunned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I'd never thought about it before?"

You ask him if he ever heard of pegging, he hadn't and you did your best to lay out what it meant, slowly, despite your eagerness at Ford's receptiveness, so far.

"But how would you...?" Was one of his questions and you couldn't help but giggle. You knew he didn't like to be on the backfoot or feel that you were laughing at his expense, but how could you not help but be amused by his perplexed expression, his innocence when it came to the gaps in his knowledge?

"Oh Ford, have I not told you yet about the wonders of silicone?!"

Ford didn't take long to mull over the decision on whether he would like to explore it, in fact, you knew him to be as eager as you were, despite never knowing about pegging before bringing it up, though none of this should have surprised you, you thought, looking back on it. Ford wasn't a stereotypical man and did not have many qualms when it came to experiencing new things. All the more reason you were excited! Though you knew that he was going to take his time with researching it, but you could wait.

As the days passed he added his small questions about what you had planned, one here, one there. He would hum and nod and maybe ask for more clarification or an adjustment. In fact, he inisted that you practice putting the strap on you ordered, once it came.

"Can I see it?"

"I think the straps are too tight, how do I-?" You were glancing around for the instructions, to see Ford already had them to hand.

"Here, like this." He gently tugs on the threads and it loosens, relieving the indents that were already appearing over your skin.

Self consciousness ate at you, unable to hide that you felt so clueless you let out a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry! This is... it just feels silly!"

"It is a little bizarre!" Ford joins in with your laughter. "But preparation makes all the difference, my dear."

Once it came to the moment, however, Ford had forgotten what a disparity there was between theory and practice! It had been so long since he had ever been in this position (metaphorically, rather than physically in the same position... but, you get the idea!) and he was starting to remember how vulnerable it can feel...

You've been working him open steadily, using plenty of lube that you kept beside you, Ford encouraging you and helping direct your movements to what he found most pleasurable, voice strained already.

He could feel that pressure and heat from how you slide in, one of your hands coming to soothingly rub at his back, reminding him to relax into it, to adjust. When he gives you encouragement to move, he can feel your form pressing into his. Your hold on him was so gentle, the tenderness made him feel like he was adrift.

He cried out as you set a firmer pace and you stilled for a moment.

"Ford?"

He groaned. "Keep... keep going, baby."

Ford reaches round to find your hand and you let him intertwine your fingers together, placing your hand further forward so the hold would be comfortable.

"You're doing so well. You know that?" You placed kisses over his shoulder before resuming your steady pace. " So good for me, Ford."

The toy that you had gotten was one that had an end that sat just inside your entrance, the pressure of it working you up. Arousal pooling in your belly as you thrust your hips into him.

He looked so beautiful underneath you, his back arched. God, he was a sight to behold. And so you told him, words spoken as you caught your breath. Knowing the words were affecting him from experience if not from the way his breathing changed, those little noises he made that you so desperately wanted to hear, the ones that went straight to your core.

You were taking your time though and Ford began to rock back into your touch, impatient.

Ford whined your name, turning his head, pupils blown wide. "Don't hold back."

It was somewhat rare that he ever got into an impatient mood, the man was unflappable most of the time. A wicked smile started to spread across your face as you tapped at his side, getting to move upwards, into more of a sitting position before grabbing a fistful of his hair, pulling him back into your chest, an arm coming to rest across his broad chest as he squirmed.

"What was that, hm?"

"Ah, please! Please, I want you to touch me, please."

"So polite." You said teasingly.

Adjusting your grip on his hair your pace became firmer, hand roaming down his chest to touch his achingly hard cock.

"That's it." Ford's moans were rising into a delicious background orchestra and you prided yourself on the knowledge that you had worked him up so much.

"W-wait! I want to see you when I- want to touch you, please?" His voice wavered, unsure of his own wants when he was so close to the edge.

"This is about you, Ford." You considered for a moment. "But you can turn around, if you wish."

It was a more awkward shuffle compared to the last, but the break in the tension didn't last long; the heat rising to your face as you saw how wrecked Ford looked, hair stuck up at different angles. Legs rising to wrap around you, the muscles there flexing against your hips. You wondered what you must've looked like to him in such a position, when the roles were reversed. Was this why he liked it?

Ford was practically melting into the mattress by the time your hands were on him again. That first rate brain of his switching off thoughts and transferring to focus on pleasure. He pulled you in so that he could kiss you, in between your praises and moans.

"So good for me, darling."

"Such a good boy."

"Fuck, cum for me!"

Eyes focused on your angelic face above him, he came. His release coating his stomach, and your hand, still firm on his cock as he rode his orgasm out with a shuddering moan.

Pulling out, you collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, letting Ford take over. First wiping you both down, then releasing you from the strap, soon replacing the end of the toy with his fingers, his mouth grazing your breast hungrily as he laid beside you.

He cursed under his breath. "Oh, sweetheart, you're soaked."

Hot kisses trailed across your skin. "You don't have to. T-this, mmn, was about you."

He tutted, a glint entering his eyes. "But I thought I was your good boy. Don't you want me to make you cum? You've gotten so wet for me."

You whimpered, answering with a nod as you carded hand through his hair, gently, this time.

[skyyclan]

➸☁️ "I learned that hunger is a symptom Of adopting bad behavior I bit my tongue last night Woke up with blood on my pillow I woke up thirsty

Words make less sense to me these days Faces look flat and unfamiliar Do you wanna rest forever? Underwater, it gets better When I get better, I'll treat you like I used to I'll do the things you want me to" ☁️ - Horseshoe Crab by Slothrust

LAMBHORN Born a proud and true Cloudclan warrior, she grew up outperforming her peers by a wide margin. She was talented and dedicated, someone to be used as an example of the best of the best. Everything in her life revolved around living up to this image that she projected, or rather, what was projected onto her. At first, it was exciting being the cat seen as perfect, but with all good things came plenty of bad.

After earning her warrior name, she was quick to rise in popularity in many ways, her attention was sought after like nothing else. Over time, she grew tired, but pushed through. Becoming a mentor, falling in love, competing for deputyship, but ending with raising a family. One by one, she gained cats that she truly loved and trusted and who loved and trusted her for who she really was.

And one by one, she lost them all. Her apprentice, dying on their graduating night. Her mate, exiled for being a traitor and shattering her trust. Her children never making it to their own apprenticeships.

All of her work, her pride, and achievements all shattered in front of her within mere moons. Now a shadow of her former self, she struggles from day to day to just exist. She carries on for them all, not for herself. Its so easy to blame those around her for all of the tragedy in her life, and its even easier to lash out when a helping hand is reached towards her. Its so hard to move on. She would also make a very interesting leader, especially with the idea of having to exile her made for treason, but she's perfect as a warrior too in my heart

(Other songs I had in mind were: Does the Swallow Dream of Flying by Cosmo Sheldrake, Hand over Hand by Roland Faunte, Make the Grade by Jack Conte)

JOIN MY DESIGN CONTEST NOW!! 5 PLACES WITH AWARDS!

The idea is simple, you must design a cat for Breezeclan's rival clan: Cloudclan! You can ping me or reblog this post with the design and that's it! The contest doesn't have a deadline for now and it's an entry for person.

Places:

1° - Any of my comms + chibi + $20 (USD)

2° - Any of my comms + chibi

3° - Fullbody

4° n 5° - Chibi

Info about Cloudclan: They are located in a forest near the Breezeclan fields, because they are more accustomed to the shade rather than direct sunlight they generally have more fur and they have the ability to climb trees that has been mastered over the years. As for their personality, they are extremely arrogant and think they are superior to Breezeclan, usually fighting over anything, they have a better relationship with loners and horrible relationship with kittypet just like Breezeclan

Extra: All the ranks (leader, deputy, healer, guards, warriors, caretakers, apprentices and kits) are open for a try! Also feel free to give em' a personality and traits if you want.

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part seven

and now... a flashback chapter

art by the always amazing @piaart

author’s note: i feel like shit but it helped me finish this up. plenty of terzo pain here meanwhile reader is home, blissfully unaware. i also have no idea if my writing is good at this point but here ya go! part one/two/three/four/five/six. ao3 link.

If you could see the wreck I am these days, you’d have new reasons to stay away. Just hold my hand for a little while —

Misery never goes out of style.

Terzo traces a delicate finger along one of the bags under his eyes, no longer concealed by the dark eye paint he once wore. His brows furrow at the sight of himself in the mirror. The wrinkles have deepened since he left the stage. His hair, now less lustrous, betrays gray strands emerging from his roots and sideburns. All those years spent cultivating his image, trying to become the perfect imperfection that Lucifer himself boasted—only to unravel after one fateful show. He grits his teeth, his mismatched eyes sharpening in his reflection.

With all the glitz stripped away, he loathes how much he now resembles his father…

Terzo forces the thought out of his head. His days are spent analyzing his time as Papa and what went wrong. He wouldn’t do anything differently but it still stung, especially after the new heights and exposure he had achieved for the Ministry. Somehow, it was not enough. His father was never proud of him, a theme that stretched throughout his entire life. Terzo was only ever the Third to him, the third son that would serve his purpose and then be pushed aside for whoever was next. While this had been the typical progression, Terzo was the fool who thought he would be different — even after being warned by Secondo.

Secondo.

“Cazzo.”

He’s late for Uno Night.

The once-revered Emeritus brothers now find themselves relegated to a desolate corner of the abbey with their only entertainment being a silly card game. Their influence wanes with each passing day. Terzo can't help but sneer at the irony of their situation - former leaders now barely more than forgotten relics, with only each other’s company. There was a time when the Emeritus brothers were revered as gods among men. Crowds would surge forward at their concerts, desperate to touch the hem of their robes or catch a glimpse of their painted faces. Devotees would line up for hours, sometimes days, just for the chance to receive a blessing or a fleeting moment of attention. Their every word was treated as gospel, their gestures analyzed and imitated by legions of faithful followers.

In the halls of the Ministry, their presence commanded instant respect and adoration. Ghouls and Siblings of Sin alike would bow their heads in reverence as they passed. Their chambers were filled with lavish gifts from admirers - exotic incense, priceless artifacts, and fervent love letters. The very air seemed to crackle with power and dark allure whenever they entered a room. Now, that electric atmosphere has faded to a dull static. The gifts have stopped coming, the adoring crowds have moved on to newer, shinier idols. The once-mighty Emeritus brothers find themselves grasping at the fading light of their former glory, clinging to memories of a time when they were worshipped as the embodiments of their infernal master.

He used to delicately paint his face for each meeting, a ritual of devotion to himself and his roll as Papa. But now, as he stares at his bare face, he feels a bitter resentment towards the being he once revered. The paint feels like a mask of lies, concealing the growing doubts and anger festering within him. Lucifer's promises of power and glory now ring hollow in his ears, leaving only the taste of ash and disappointment. Terzo exhales through his nose and tears himself away from the mirror, satisfied with his appearance but frustrated with the progression of his thoughts. He had grown more disillusioned by the day with the cause he so passionately promoted, the being he worshipped. Lucifer, once his guiding light, now seemed like a cruel puppeteer, manipulating him for some cosmic joke.

Omega did not like these thoughts. In fact, Terzo has begun avoiding him and instead has been seeking the company of his brothers. Perhaps the one silver lining in all of this is that he is closer than he ever has been with his true family, minus daddy dearest, of course. They had grown up together, with Primo practically raising him and Secondo after they had come to the ministry. Back then he was a true zealot - a satanic lunatic whose fervor for the dark arts knew no bounds. It was from him that Terzo learned the intricacies of their infernal faith, absorbing every ritual and incantation with wide-eyed fascination. Yet, somehow, both Terzo and Secondo emerged less fanatical than their older brother.

But still competitors, nonetheless. Secondo and Terzo had been born to different mothers three months apart so it came naturally. The more time spent together now, the more they realize how similar they can be and deep down, Terzo wishes they had not been so combative. It was encouraged, though, fed and grown by the higher ups in the ministry and their father. Maybe they feared they would be too powerful if they were close.

Now all they care about is Uno.

"Fuck!" Terzo exclaims again, his voice tinged with frustration as he runs a hand tiredly over his face. The weight of his thoughts bears down on him, but he knows he can't afford to dwell any longer. With a deep sigh, he forces himself into action, slipping his feet into his shoes - the familiar spats clicking as he gets them on. Just as he reaches for the door handle, a sharp knock echoes through the room. Terzo pauses, his hand hovering in mid-air. Irritation flashes across his face.

"Enter," he calls out, his voice tinged with impatience.

The door creaks open, revealing a young Sibling of Sin. Their face is pale, eyes wide with fear and urgency. Terzo's irritation gives way to curiosity as he takes in their disheveled appearance.

"What is it?" he asks, his tone softening slightly.

The Sibling swallows hard before speaking, their voice trembling. "Papa, I... I have news. It's about Omega."

Terzo's eyebrows furrow. "Omega? What about him?" He nonchalantly goes back to adjusting his outfit, wondering if this is another plot from the ghoul to try and make him listen to “reason”. He certainly has stooped rather low, almost as low as Terzo.

The Sibling takes a deep breath, as if steeling themselves for what they're about to say. "He's been banished, Papa. Omega has been cast out of the Ministry."

The words hit Terzo like a physical blow. He stumbles back a step, his mind reeling. "Banished?" he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... how? Why?" Pain is etched across his face.

The Sibling shakes their head, clearly as confused and shaken as Terzo. "I don't know the details, Papa. It happened so suddenly. They're saying it came from the highest levels of the Ministry."

Terzo's mind races, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Shock, confusion, and a sudden, unexpected pang of loss all vie for dominance. Despite their recent disagreements, Omega had been a constant in his life for so long. The thought of him being gone, cast out... it's almost inconceivable.

Terzo's composure shatters as the weight of the news crashes over him. His eyes flash with unbridled fury, causing the Sibling to take an involuntary step back. "Get out!" he roars, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Leave me! Now!" The Sibling, wide-eyed with fear, scrambles to obey, nearly tripping over their own feet in their haste to escape. Terzo slams the door with such force that the entire room seems to shake, the sound echoing through the corridors like a thunderclap.

As soon as the barrier between him and the outside world is secure, everything crumbles. A primal roar of anguish and frustration tears from his throat, echoing off the walls of his private chambers. In a whirlwind of unbridled emotion, he lashes out at his surroundings. His fist connects with the ornate mirror adorning his vanity, the impact sending a spider web of cracks across its surface before it shatters completely. Shards of glass rain down, glittering in the dim light like fallen stars.

But Terzo's rage demands more destruction. He overturns his meticulously organized desk, unleashing an avalanche of papers, pens, and trinkets onto the floor. Books, once neatly arranged on shelves, are torn free and flung across the room, their pages fluttering like disoriented birds. His wardrobe—a carefully curated collection of robes and suits that once symbolized his power and prestige—falls victim to his fury next. Garments are ripped from hangers and strewn about haphazardly, silk and velvet mingling with the debris below. Spotting one of his Papal robes, an early prototype, he seizes it and tears, splitting seams and fabric into pieces with savage force.

He could kill them. End the reign of his father and Sister Imperator with a knife to their throats, a hammer to their heads. He’s capable and he’s angry.

But that’s not who Terzo is.

His appetite for destruction is as swift as it is thorough. When the storm of his anger finally subsides, Terzo finds himself standing amidst the wreckage of his once-immaculate quarters. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his knuckles having bloodied his gloves from his outburst. The room, previously a testament to his refined tastes and exalted position, now lies in utter ruin around him. He closes his eyes, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as the full weight of what has transpired begins to settle upon him.

The dust settles around him, both literally and figuratively, as his mind wanders to Omega. Their relationship, once the core of his existence within the Ministry, had deteriorated over the past several months, transforming into a strained and tenuous connection. The rift between them had widened, growing into a seemingly unbridgeable gap that threatened to swallow everything they shared whole. Omega, ever faithful of their infernal master, had persistently begged Terzo to embrace what he perceived as a well-deserved retirement—a supposed reward bestowed upon them by Lucifer himself for their years of unwavering service and dedication.

"Papa, you've more than earned this rest," Omega would implore, his eyes blazing with sheer intensity behind his cool mask that Terzo found increasingly difficult to look at. "Our Dark Lord Lucifer, in his infinite wisdom, has granted you this period of rest and reflection. Why do you persist in resisting? Can you not see the honor in this gift he has bestowed upon you?"

But for Terzo, the notion of settling into a life of idle luxury felt suffocating—a gilded cage that threatened to strip away everything he had fought so hard to achieve. The very thought of turning his back on the empire he had painstakingly built, nurtured, and expanded over the years felt like a betrayal of who he is and what defines him. As time wore on, his arguments with Omega grew increasingly heated and frequent, his frustration mounting with each tense exchange, threatening to boil over into hostility.

"You call this rest, Omega?" Terzo would retort, his voice rising with each impassioned word, hands gesticulating wildly to emphasize his point. "This isn't rest—it's nothing short of exile, a banishment from everything I've ever known and loved! How can you, of all people, expect me to sit idly by, content to watch as everything I've dedicated my life to—my very existence—crumbles around me like dust?" The air between them would crackle with tension during these confrontations, an electric charge that made it increasingly difficult for them to occupy the same space without the risk of conflict erupting at any moment.

Now, with the shocking news of Omega's sudden and unexpected banishment reverberating through the chambers of his mind, Terzo finds himself consumed with emotion. Relief, guilt, anger, and a profound sense of loss intertwine in a dizzying dance, each vying for dominance in the turbulent landscape of his mind. Despite their recent differences and the ever-widening divide between them, Omega had been a constant, unwavering presence in Terzo's life for longer than he cared to remember—a touchstone of familiarity. His abrupt absence leaves a gaping void in the fabric of Terzo's existence, a wound so deep and raw that he isn't certain he possesses the means to heal it.

Even with the turmoil raging inside him, Terzo finds himself drawn to the familiar comfort of his brothers' company. With a heavy sigh, he straightens his posture and smooths down his attire, a reflexive gesture from years of public appearances. He may be struggling, but he'll be damned if he lets it show—at least not to them. They have all had their hardships. If anyone knows and understands what he is feeling right now, it is his brothers. Terzo’s steps are heavy, using his feet to clear a path forward amidst everything now on the floor. He reaches the door, hesitating for just a moment. There’s a weight pressing down on him that threatens to crush him, to break him down until there’s nothing left.

He won’t let it.

Terzo opens the door and leaves his room. As he makes his way towards the small room where their Uno nights are held, his mind goes blank, going numb to the intense feelings that are simmering beneath the surface. He trudges down the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls, focusing on that sound to keep him grounded. As he rounds a corner, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts, a familiar voice catches his attention, causing him to halt abruptly.

Turning, he sees Cardinal Copia emerging from his office, a stack of papers tucked under one arm and an Uno card inexplicably held between two fingers of his free hand. The Cardinal's painted face breaks into a warm smile as he spots Terzo, oblivious to the storm brewing within the former Papa.

"Ah, Papa, on your way to Uno Night, yes?” The cheerful greeting hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the darkness swirling within Terzo.

Terzo's entire body tenses, his jaw clenching so tightly he can hear his teeth grind. The sight of him, so content and oblivious to the turmoil raging through the Ministry, ignites a fire in Terzo's chest—one that he had hoped was extinguished following his outburst in his room. His eyes narrow as he regards Copia with barely contained irritation. "Uno Night," he repeats, his voice low and controlled, though tension radiates from every syllable. "Mmm… yes." He takes a step closer to Copia, his presence suddenly looming and intimidating.

Copia's smile falters slightly, but he presses on, still oblivious and sweet. "It's become quite the tradition with your brothers, hasn't it?" He hesitates for a moment, then reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a blue reverse card. He holds it out to Terzo, a tentative peace offering. "Here, Papa. I always keep this one for luck. Perhaps... perhaps you'd like to have it for tonight's game?"

Terzo's gaze sharpens dangerously as he struggles to maintain his composure. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps. The sight of that blue card in Copia's hand—a symbol of the carefree life he now leads—causes the fire to spread inside him, consuming him yet again. Terzo’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and menacing, barely above a whisper.

"Tradition?" His voice is guttural and rough. "You dare speak to me of tradition when everything is crumbling around us? When the very foundations of our world are ripped away from us?" His words are full of anguish and rage, each one striking Copia like a physical blow.

The Cardinal stumbles back, his expression morphing from confusion to outright fear. "P-Papa, I... I don't understand-" he stammers, his voice trembling.

"Of course you don't understand!" Terzo cuts him off, his composure shattering completely. "You're nothing but a pawn, a naive fool dancing to their twisted tune!" He gestures wildly, his movements sharp and erratic. "Do you have any idea what's happening beyond your little bubble of blissful ignorance? Omega is gone! Banished! Cast out like yesterday's trash! And here you stand, grinning like a fool, oblivious to the chaos swirling around you!"

Copia's eyes widen in shock, the full weight of Terzo's words finally sinking in. "Omega? But how- Why-" he begins, but Terzo is far from finished.

Terzo snatches the blue Uno card from Copia's hand, gripping it so hard it begins to crumble in his grip. "And this?" he spits, brandishing it like damning evidence. "You think this changes anything? You think a game can fix what's broken? This card, this... this mockery of what we once were!" His voice rises to a near-scream. "Do you have any idea what this represents? It's not just a game, you fool! It's everything we've lost, everything that's been taken from us!"

With a primal yell that seems to shake the very stones of the corridor, Terzo tears the card to shreds. The pieces flutter between them like confetti, a mockery of celebration in this moment of utter despair. Copia flinches, raising his hands as if to shield himself from the physical manifestation of Terzo's rage.

"P-Papa, please," Copia stammers, his voice barely above a whisper, a plea for understanding, for mercy. "I didn't mean to-"

But Terzo is beyond reason, beyond mercy. His voice drops to a low, dangerous hiss, each word dripping with venom. "Get out of my sight," he commands, his tone brooking no argument. "You don't belong here. You never will. You're nothing but a pale imitation, a cheap replacement for something you could never hope to understand. And take your pathetic games with you!"

As Copia retreats, practically running down the corridor, Terzo stands amidst the scattered remains of the card. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, anger and grief warring within him. In the sudden silence, the weight of his actions begins to settle upon him. He knows, in some distant corner of his mind, that he's overreacted, that Copia isn't truly to blame for the chaos engulfing their world. But in this moment, all he can feel is the crushing weight of loss - of his position, of Omega, of everything he once held dear. And that damned Uno card, now in pieces at his feet, seems to mock him with its cheerful blue color, a stark contrast to the darkness consuming his soul.

If only he could reverse being removed from the Papacy.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Terzo straightens his posture and adjusts his shirt in an attempt to calm himself. He struggles to push down the turmoil within, determined not to let his brothers see his inner struggle. As he approaches the card room, he steels himself, forcing his face into a mask of nonchalance.

Opening the door, he finds his brothers already seated. An almost startling wave of relief washes over him. He allows a scoff to escape his lips at the sight of Primo, face fully painted and wearing a Burberry scarf. Before he can comment, Secondo interjects.

"Already gave him trouble for it, stronzino. If you'd been on time, you could've joined." There's a glint of mischief in Secondo's eyes.

Terzo rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his best efforts to maintain his aloof facade. He saunters over to the table, pulling up a chair with dramatic flair. "Well, shall we begin? I'm feeling particularly lucky tonight." He shoots a pointed look at Secondo, silently accepting the challenge in his brother's gaze.

He settles into his seat and the feeling of relief continues to spread through him. Here, surrounded by his brothers and the familiar rhythm of an extremely low-stakes card game, he can momentarily push aside his anger and frustration. In this room, he's not the fallen Papa or a disappointment to the Ministry - he's simply Terzo, the youngest of the Emeritus brothers, ready to lose himself in the game and forget, if only for a while, how far he has fallen.

On this particular evening, Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil would make an unexpected appearance, delivering news that would leave the brothers startled and confused.

They would be unable to continue their card game.

Terzo is deep in his desk chair, his body nearly slipped from it onto the floor. His gaze is locked on the the hell phone which has been ringing nonstop since you left for the night. Your taste is still on his tongue, your scent clinging to his robe. He’s afraid to move to disturb the haze he’s settled into, even though you would be back bright and early for work the morning after next. Fingers fall to his temples, rubbing them with each piercing ring of the phone.

He wouldn’t answer. He doesn’t want to face who is on the other line.

Was it Omega? What could he possibly say? He would only complicate matters—as he already has. The hell phone materialized before you, and you listened to the sounds of the abyss. It drove you into Terzo's arms and bed, but... you didn't deserve to experience such terrors or feel so frightened in his home. Or at least, if anyone was going to frighten you it should be him. His fingers drum along the arms of the chair, a deep grumble vibrating from his chest. The goal is to get you to stay, to devote yourself to him and only him. Yet the fear gnaws at him. What if the terrors you've witnessed push you away? The thought of losing you to the very darkness he once revered sends a chill through him. He wants you by his side, but you have to want to be there. Perhaps, he muses bitterly, this is another of Lucifer's cruel jokes—dangling happiness before him, only to threaten it with the very forces he once embraced.

Maybe the imp who fixed your tire that Terzo had shredded was calling. What was that all about? He didn’t have time to mull that incident over earlier while you were here. Is he manifesting things?

The memory of when he had accidentally shocked you resurfaces, Terzo's frown deepens. He recalls the pain on your face when he zapped your wrist. His gaze drifts to his hands, studying them as if they belong to a stranger. These hands that once commanded crowds, that channeled unholy energies with precision and purpose, now feel like unpredictable weapons. He clenches his fists, feeling the familiar tingle of power just beneath his skin. What if he hurts you again?

Another memory flits to the forefront of his mind — when he screamed at you over his relics being displayed causing a lightbulb to shatter. He remembers the fear in your eyes as it happened. It wasn't Lucifer's doing—it was his own power, his own lack of control. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. Perhaps the true threat to your happiness, to any chance of a future together, isn't some external force or cosmic joke. It's him.

The silver lining is that you had seemed to be… into it. But what if next time, it's worse than a small shock or a broken bulb?

The thought sends a wave of despair crashing over him. Is he doomed to be alone, forever isolated by the very gifts that once made him special? The irony isn't lost on him—he who once reveled in his dark powers, who used them to seduce and enthrall, now fears them as the very thing that might drive you away. Terzo slumps further in his chair. The illusion of his perfection continues to fade but he’s stubborn. Unwilling to change his ways even though he knows he can be cruel and difficult.

He originally expected you to just deal with it.

Terzo rises with a frustrated growl, letting the hell phone continue its incessant ringing. He stalks over to his liquor cabinet, hands trembling slightly as he pours himself a generous measure of whiskey. What have you done to him? How dare you make him want to be better? He decides he must, at the very least, attempt to protect you from whatever hell seemingly has in store for you. This includes tempering his emotions, an obvious factor of his otherworldly abilities. Seriously, how dare you?

Taking a long swig, he savors the burn as it slides down his throat. It's a familiar comfort, one that does little to reduce the budding anxiety he feels. With a heavy sigh, he turns his back on the still-ringing phone and retreats to his bedroom, drink in hand. The door closes behind him, muffling the sound of the hell phone but he can still feel its presence. Terzo takes another sip, hoping to drink himself into unconsciousness.

Only two sleeps until he sees you again.

[koolades-world]

hiii i absolutely LOVE your writing! could i ask for the demon bros + Solomon with MC, that has anger issues (or something along the lines)? thank you in advance and have a great day!

hi! so glad you enjoy my silly writingssss

i just looked, and i did do something like this, but it was just with four characters. so, i hope you don't mind that i didn't include them. this post can be found here!

enjoy <3

Mc with anger issues p.2

Mammon

he might not understand what you might be feeling, but he wants nothing more than to help you

whatever helps you best, he'd like you to let him know

you can always talk to him, and he always make sure to carry around anything you might need with him

however, no matter what, he discourages you from unhealthy outlets such as the ones he partakes in. he wants you to find something that both works for you, and is better for you

Levi

he finds it best to channel his strong emotions into a game of some kind

for you, he recommends a game that you can't lose and get to destroy things. he also thinks horror games could do you well because of how sucked in you get while playing

as cheesy and stupid as it might sound, letting it all out is good. bottling things up doesn't work

if you ever need, you're welcome in his room to decompress

Asmo

he wants to do whatever he can to help you out!

he lets you in on his favorite way to get his anger all out: a rage room! he would love to go with you someday

but, he also understands that it's not sustainable so he helps you out in your day to day life as well

from a relaxing spa day, to meditation, he wants to find the best option for you

Belphie

he did and still does have a bit of an anger problem himself that you saw first hand

so, after the two of you get on better terms, he introduces you to star gazing

he knows it isn't much, but he wants to try his best for you. he finds it very soothing to relax and find the constellations

the two of you make it a nightly event to star gaze before bed

Solomon

he gifts you several magical items to help you out that he hopes will come in handy

this includes plenty of potions, enchanted items. as well as just generally nice smelling items. why, you might ask? he just thought you'd like nice smelling things haha

every time you see him, it feels like he has a new trick for you to try out

if you ever need to rant, or just talk in general, he's all ears

[imhappierthanever]

Love & Comfort

Billie worked so hard trying to make positive change, influencing so many people to vote for the right person. So when election day had come, and the results went in the other direction, your girlfriend was understandably upset. But at least she had you to take care of her.

You snuggled her close on your shared sofa, your arms wrapped around each other as you kissed her tears away. “It’s going to be okay, my love.” You assured her kissing her temple softly. Wanna eat something to cheer you up?” You asked running your hands under her eye lids before brushing your nose against hers. Her sad blue eyes finally looked into yours, 1000 dancing butterflies in your stomach as always when her eyes met yours.

She nodded and you smiled grabbing her hand, bringing her over to the table where Maggie left her famous common rolls. You know these were Billie’s favourite, and she wouldn’t be able to resist. When you were done eating you decided you would play her favourite card game, speed. She giggled as always, winning game after game and it made you so happy you could distract her even just a little bit.

Once you were done, you made dinner together, letting Billie pick out anything she wanted to. If it was going to make her happy, you were all for it.

Once you were done you cuddled on the sofa yet again, letting her watch the office. She was probably on her 16th time all the way through. She was so obsessed but you found it to be so cute as you played with her hair, massaging her scalp, pressing kisses to her cheek every now and then.

After while, you headed for the shower sharing plenty of kisses and hugs as you helped each other get clean and ready for bed. Once you were done, you both slipped on each other’s clothes. You helped the fabric of your shirt glide down her body, letting your fingers gently caress her in the process. You pressed soft kisses to her neck before leading her to the bed. You laid down and she followed, cuddling into your body as you pulled the covers over your bodies.

Your legs tangled, and her heart beat against you. “I’m sorry things didn’t turn out the way we had hoped baby. But I hope you know I’m so proud of you.” You said kissing her lips before continuing. “You made so many people aware and you used your power to do so much good. It’s not the end. We might have to fight even more so now, but I hope you know, I’ll fight anything as long as it’s by your side. I love you so much, baby. “ you said pulling her into you. “I love you too, love. Thank you for all you’ve done for me. at least we have each other. “ she said snuggling into you. “And this safe space we have created where we know everything will always be okay.”

[skeletboi]

Part 13 of the Intridimensional AU!

First /// Previous /// Next

____________________________________________

Ford woke with a start when he heard a clatter down the hall followed by a loud swear. He sighed and stretched, trying to work the kink out of his neck. Fiddleford was sure to give him hell about sleeping in his study again, but he had a lot to catch up on after the impromptu two day road trip, and couldn't afford to sleep now. He stood from his chair and adjusted his glasses, taking a deep breath to steel himself for whatever mess Stanley had just made.

He made his way down the hall, heading for the kitchen, when he heard Fiddleford's laugh from the parlor.

“You coulda told me it was spring loaded! Sixer is going to kick my ass out so fast!” He heard Stanley say.

Ford frowned and made his way to the parlor, where he found Fiddleford kneeling in front of Stan with a small toolbox at his side.

Fiddleford looked up at the motion in the doorway and smiled brilliantly at Ford.

“Mornin’ Stanford. Did ya actually get some sleep for once?” He asked.

“Some.” Ford said. “What are you two doing?”

“Making out, obviously.” Stan said quickly before Fiddleford could answer.

Fiddleford turned bright red and shot up.

“No! We sure as heck weren't doin’ that! I was jus’ fixin’ ta tryin’ out the new robit leg!” He said, waving his hands frantically.

Ford raised an eyebrow as he looked from Fiddleford's red face to Stan's smug smile.

“Right. How is that working out?” He asked, stepping further into the room to get a better look at Stan's leg.

“It's fucking great!” Stan said. “Although Fidds here didn't warn me about the spring loaded knife holder he put it in, so I owe you a new lamp. Put it on my tab.”

“Fidds?” Ford asked, frowning.

“Your ‘assistant’ here. Ya know, Fidds!” Stan said, smiling mischievously.

“You used to call me that all the time in college, Ford. You still call me that ‘cassionally. It don't bother me if Stan calls me that, too.” Fiddleford said, leaning down to pack up some of his tools.

“I am aware of that, yes. I just find it… interesting that Stan is calling you that.” Ford said, doing his best not to pout and surely failing.

“I got myself a long name, seems only natural. Anyways,I'm ‘bout done here and was gonna make some breakfast. You wanna join?” Fiddleford asked as he packed the last of his tools.

“I have a lot of work to catch up on.” Ford responded, glancing away.

“Work-schmerk. Eat somethin’ will ya? I haven’t seen you consume more than a protein pill and coffee since you dragged my sorry ass out of that motel.” Stan said.

“‘Least have some toast, Stanford. I did plenty of work while you were gone. I know ya like yer schedule, but it ain't no rush- it's not like we got a real deadline.” Fiddleford added.

“Keeping to the schedule is paramount!” Ford replied.

“For who? Do you have a boss you're not telling me about?” Fiddleford asked jokingly.

“No!” Ford responded too quickly, making Stan and Fiddleford jump. “No, I don't have a ‘boss’. I just would prefer to maintain our original timeline.”

Stan stared at Ford, wondering what would cause such a guilty reaction and coming up empty.

“Well I'll meet ya in the lab with some toast in a bit then, but I ain't starvin’ myself to death for yer silly schedule.” Fiddleford said in a way that suggested this was a normal argument between them.

“Fair enough. You know where to find me.” Ford said, turning on his heel and making his way to the lab.

Fiddleford sighed as he stood then turned to Stanley, holding out a hand to help him up.

“That leg is gonna take some real gettin’ used to, so don't rush it.” He said as Stan took his offered hand and managed to get off the couch without falling.

“This definitely feels weird already.” Stan responded, taking a wobbly step forward.

“How's the pain? I know that magic goop healed it up real well, but is it hurtin’ at all?” Fiddleford asked, taking Stan's other hand to lead him another step forward.

“It's not hurting. All I feel is pressure, like my leg is asleep instead of gone.” Stan replied, taking another step and nearly falling.

Fiddleford caught him before he could take them both down and laughed.

“Didn’t I jus’ tell ya to take it slow?”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm not real good at that, though.”

“So impatience runs in the family, too? I ain't too shocked by that.” Fiddleford laughed.

“It didn't used to. Ford used to be way more patient than me.” Stan thought aloud.

“That don’ surprise me much, either. When I met him he was a lot more patient, ‘cept when it came to his work, but he has been actin’ a bit odd as of late. Did he ever sleep walk as a kid?”

“Sleepwalk? No. He was on the top bunk in our room, so I definitely would have noticed.”

“Int'restin’. He didn’ used ta sleep walk in college either and we shared a be- I mean I also wouda noticed. Anyways, he’s been sleep walkin’ a lot recently, but he avoids the question if I ever ask him ‘bout it.”

Stan frowned as he took another step, wondering what could cause sleepwalking in an adult. Stress, maybe? Ford did seem a bit on edge, but Stan had assumed that was because he had found his twin brother missing a leg in a shitty motel room. There was definitely something more going on here, but he had no idea what it was.

“Why you?” Stan asked, looking up at Fiddleford.

Fiddleford frowned in question.

“I mean, he's out here lookin’ for monsters or aliens or something, right? Why does he need a mechanic?” Stan clarified.

“Ah, right. Well he's workin’ on this project that was a bit more complicated mechanically than what he’s use ta doin’.” Fiddleford explained, sounding suddenly nervous.

“That is a very vague answer, Fidds.” Stan deadpanned.

“I- I don’ quite know howta ‘splain it. I don’ even know how he done came up with the idea… I-I-” Fiddleford stuttered.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, Fidds. Didn't mean to stress you out, I was just making conversation. We can talk about something else.”

Fiddleford nodded, a nervous smile on his face that just made Stan more curious.

“Well then, Ford mentioned you left your wife and child behind in California to work for him, that seems a bit more than casual!” Stan said with a shit-eating grin.

Fiddleford neary tripped backwards.

“Well! I- No! I love my son, I'm goin’ back! I jus’ gotta help Stanford here a bit longer, I reckon!” Fiddleford said quickly.

“Right, right. Interesting that you mentioned your son, but not your wife.” Stan said, his smile widening.

“Stanley! I will let you fall! ‘Course I love my wife! I jus’... well I didn't expect Stanford to ever reach out ta me after college, I ‘spose.” Fiddleford responded, his voice fading as he talked.

“That's a pretty intense pickle you got yourself in, isn't it?” Stan asked.

“It ain't no pickle. Stanford has always cared about his work more than anythin’. I've known that since the first week I met ‘im. He'll do this project a his either way, and we'll go our separate ways. He'll forget ‘bout me ‘ventually.”

“But you won't forget about him?” Stan asked, and didn't miss the way Fiddleford flinched at that.

“Well yeah, I ‘spose I'll hafta forget him, too.” He responded quietly, his gaze distant.

Stan frowned, unsure how to respond after that sudden change in demeanor.

“Well, I think your wife could forget about you, too. So there's that.” Stan said after a moment.

Fiddleford made a face and dropped his hands from Stan's, causing Stan to wobble and nearly fall over. Stan huffed but took the hint. He wouldn't be getting through to these nerds easily, but at least it was entertaining.

“Less talkin’, more focusin’ on your steps.” Fiddleford said, taking Stan's hands back in his own to steady him.

“Sorry, mom. I'm focusing.” Stan mumbled.

Fiddleford huffed out a laugh and continued to lead Stan forward. It was getting easier with each step, but Fidds was right- this would take some serious getting used to.

____________________________________________

Well, life is a distopian nightmare, but these boys are keeping me sane. (for now)

Stan is a menace, and I love that for him.

[v6quewrlds]

❝ nothing on me, d. booker. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: you and your girls decided that november will be dedicated to self-discovery. as innocent as your pact is, devin can't wrap his head around why you need to "decenter men".

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: a little devin fic for all my book girlies <3 can't believe there aren't more devin fics on here but we ball! day four of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: devin booker x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 3k.

"Damn, you looking good enough to eat," Devin murmured, his eyes tracing the curves of your body as you stepped out of the bathroom, the steam wrapping around you like a seductive embrace.

You rolled your eyes playfully, a knowing smirk playing on your plump lips. "Don't start, Devin. You know the next three weeks is about self-care for me and the girls." You padded over to the bed, your skin glowing from the warm shower, and slipped into a pair of oversized sweatpants and a tank top.

Devin sat up, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance. "Come on, babe, that's some bullshit some losers came up with to last a month without jacking off." He threw his hands up in exasperation, his gold necklace glinting in the soft light of your bedroom.

"It's not 'No Nut November', Devin," you corrected him with a laugh, your pressed hair cascading over your shoulders. "It's about us focusing on ourselves, not just sex." You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, scrolling through social media as if his whining was a mere background noise.

"But what about me, baby?" Devin whined, his voice dripping with false innocence. He reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You know I need you."

You glanced at him, your brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "You'll survive, boo," you said, your voice a sweet, teasing melody. "Besides, it's not like you're gonna be celibate or anything. You can still jack off, just not around me. I'm decentering men, remember?"

Devin pouted, his bottom lip sticking out in the most adorable way you had ever seen. "But it’s not the same," he complained, his voice taking on a child-like whine that you couldn't help but find endearing.

You couldn't help but laugh, your light, airy chuckle filling the room. "I'm sure you'll manage," you said, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Besides, I've got a girls' trip in two weeks, so you'll have plenty of time to handle your own business."

Devin's face fell, but he quickly recovered with a smirk. "Alright, I guess I can handle that." He leaned back against the headboard, folding his arms behind his head. "But when you come back, all bets are off, right?"

You just winked at him and said, "We'll see," before leaving the room.

The weeks passed by in a blur of work and preparations for the girls' trip. Devin did his best to respect your boundaries, though he couldn't help but drop hints here and there about what he had in mind for when you returned. You, on the other hand, remained steadfast in your commitment, focusing on yourself and your friendships. The anticipation grew like a slow burn between you, the tension palpable.

When your week-long escape to Miami with your friends finally came to an end, you practically waltzed through the airport, your skin kissed by the Florida sun, and your spirit rejuvenated. Devin had arranged for a luxurious ride home, a sleek black Escalade with a bouquet of your favorite roses waiting inside. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement when you saw his text message confirming his surprise.

"Welcome back, baby," he'd written, along with a heart emoji.

As you stepped into the car, you couldn't help but smile. Devin had always been good at surprises, and you were eager to see what he had in store for you. When you walked into your apartment, you were greeted by the heavenly scent of your favorite comfort meal. The living room was lit with the soft glow of candles, and a bottle of your favorite wine chilled on the counter. You could tell he'd been waiting for you, the pent-up energy in the air was thick with anticipation.

Devin emerged from the kitchen, his tall frame backlit by the stove's warm light, a chef's apron tied around his waist. "Welcome home. You hungry, baby?" he asked, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down your spine. Despite your best efforts, you felt the heat between your legs begin to build.

"Starving," you replied, dropping your luggage by the door. You watched as Devin sauntered over to you with a confidence that could only come from knowing what awaited you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a kiss that was both tender and demanding. His lips tasted of mint and the faint hint of something sweet you couldn't quite place, making you crave more of him.

The two of you broke apart, and you looked up into his eyes, which had darkened with desire. "You didn’t have to do all this," you said, your voice thick with lust.

Devin smirked. "I wanted to make sure you had something to come home to. Show you what you been missing out on, decentering men and shit." His hands roamed down your back, slipping under the waistband of your linen pants.

You giggled, pushing his hands away gently. "You're such a fool, you know that?" But you couldn't deny the way your body responded to his touch. You stepped back, taking in the sight of him in the apron. "Maybe I should decenter men more often if this is the kind of treatment I get."

Devin's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "You say that now, but you know you missed this." He winked, his dimples deepening, and you couldn't help but melt a little inside.

"Maybe just a little," you admitted, your voice breathy with desire. He took your hand and led you to the kitchen table, which was set with your finest silverware and adorned with more candles. The food looked like it had been plucked from the pages of a gourmet magazine—grilled chicken with a side of asparagus and perfectly seasoned rice.

You ate in a comfortable murmur of conversation, occasionally exchanging heated glances that spoke volumes of the passion you had stored up. You felt the tension between you build with each bite, like a simmering pot about to boil over. After dinner, Devin cleared the plates away and turned the music up. The bass thumped through the walls, setting the mood as he approached you with a slow, deliberate stride.

"Ready to get re-centered?" he asked, his voice low as he poked fun at your earlier declaration. The corner of your mouth quirked up in a half smile, your eyes brushing over the clean, empty plates. You took a deep breath, the scent of the meal lingering sweetly in the air, and nodded.

Devin didn't waste any time. He pulled you to your feet, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. He spun you around, pressing you against the counter as he kissed your neck, his breath hot against your skin. Your hands found his chest, your fingers digging into his muscles as you arched into his embrace. You could feel his hardness against you, a promise of what was to come.

"Take your top off," he whispered in your ear, his voice a seductive rumble. You complied, the top of your linen set sliding off your shoulders and falling to the floor. Devin's eyes raked over you, his desire for you clear as day. He traced the curve of your features before leaning down to press chaste kisses along your shoulder, making you shiver.

As the music filled the room, Devin's hands slipped lower, caressing your hips, pulling you closer until there was no space between you. Your hands wound around his neck, your nails lightly scratching his skin. He groaned, his mouth moving down to suck on your neck, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"I missed you," Devin murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Missed this." His hands began to explore, cupping your breasts through your bra, fitting them perfectly in his palms. You gasped, your knees slightly buckling at the sensation. You leaned into him, your body begging for more.

With a deft flick, Devin unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His thumbs brushed your hardened nipples, teasing them into peaks as your eyes closed, your head falling back onto his shoulder in pleasure. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice a gentle caress that sent goosebumps skittering across your flesh. He kissed the nape of your neck, his tongue flicking out to taste the salty sweetness of your skin.

Your breath hitched as Devin's hands continued to wander, sliding down your abdomen to the waistband of your pants. His fingers danced there, tracing the fabric before slipping inside, finding you wet and ready. You moaned, your hips rocking back into him as he touched you with the expertise of a maestro playing a melody. The ache within you grew stronger, the need to feel him inside you becoming unbearable.

With a playful growl, Devin scooped you up into his arms, carrying you to your bedroom as if you weighed nothing at all. He laid you down on the velvet comforter, your body a canvas of passion waiting to be explored. He stripped away your pants and underwear, his eyes never leaving yours as he took in the sight of you. "You're mine," he said, his voice filled with a possessive hunger that sent a thrill through you.

Your breath was ragged, your chest rising and falling with anticipation. Devin knelt beside the bed, his eyes feasting on your naked body. He took off his apron and shirt in one fluid motion, revealing his sculpted chest and abs. The candlelight danced across his skin, giving him an almost divine glow. You felt your body responding to the sight of him, your thighs quivering as he leaned over you, his mouth watering at the sight of your wetness.

Without a word, Devin began to kiss you, starting at your ankles and moving upwards. His lips traced a fiery path up your calves, his tongue darting out to taste the salt on your skin. He reached your inner thighs, nipping gently, making you squirm with pleasure. When he finally reached the apex of your thighs, your breaths were coming in short gasps. You could feel the heat of his breath on your sensitive flesh, and you were close to begging.

"Devin," you panted, his name a plea on your lips. He looked up, his eyes locked with yours as he pushed two fingers inside you. He watched your face contort with pleasure, his eyes glued to yours as he stroked your pussy with a precision that left you breathless. The room spun around you, the candlelight blurring into a sea of heat and desire.

Devin chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending aftershocks through you. He kissed his way up your stomach, his teeth grazing your flesh as he went until he reached your lips.

The kiss was deep and hungry, a declaration of his need for you. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and you reached down to stroke him through his sweatpants. With a sudden movement, you pushed him onto his back and straddled him, your wetness slick against him.

Devin's hands slid up your waist, gripping your hips as you rocked against him. "Take it off," you demanded, nodding to his pants. He complied eagerly, his cock springing free and standing tall between you. You bit your lips, your eyes dark with desire as you took him in your hand, stroking him with a firm, steady grip that made him groan.

"You been missing this, too?" you taunted, your thumb brushing the bead of precum at the tip. Devin's only response was a nod, his eyes hooded and his breath coming in pants. You smirked before leaning down to kiss him, your tongues dancing together as you lined him up with your entrance. With a slow, deliberate motion, you slid down onto him, your walls enveloping him in a warm, tight embrace.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, his thumbs playing with your sensitive nipples. You began to move, your hips rolling in a sensual dance that had Devin's eyes rolling back in his head. You took your time, savoring every inch of him, your muscles contracting around his cock in a delicious rhythm that had you both panting for more.

Your kisses grew more fervent, your bodies moving together in a symphony of passion that had been denied for too long. You felt Devin's hands tighten on your hips, urging you faster, harder, as he matched you stroke for stroke. The sound of your skin slapping together filled the room, mingling with your moans and gasps.

"You feel so good," Devin managed to murmur between breaths. His eyes were glued to your bouncing breasts, the sight making him throb with desire.

"Mmhmm," you agreed, your voice a low, sultry hum that vibrated through your chest and into his. You leaned forward, your wetness smearing on his abs as you took his face in your hands and kissed him deeply. The taste of wine still lingered on his tongue, a tantalizing mix of sweet and savory that only served to fuel the fire burning within you.

With a growl, Devin flipped your positions, his hands gripping your waist as he thrust up into you. The sudden change in angle sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp. He took your hands in his and pinned them above your head, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to move. Each thrust was deep and purposeful as if he was trying to claim every inch of your being.

Your bodies moved in a perfect harmony, each stroke bringing you two closer to the edge. Devin's abs flexed with every movement, his muscles rippling under your fingertips. You couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of him, at the raw power and passion that he brought to the bed. It was like watching a masterpiece come to life, each motion a stroke on the canvas of your love.

Your nails dug into his skin as you met his rhythm, your hips rising to meet him, welcoming him deeper. Devin's eyes were dark with lust, his breaths coming in harsh pants. "You're so fucking tight, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse. You just smiled up at him, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you reveled in the sensation.

"I'm gonna cream this pretty pussy," Devin murmured, his voice thick with desire as he pounded into you. You threw your head back, your hair fanning out on the pillow, and let out a whispered moan. Your nails dug into his back, leaving trails of red against his caramel skin as you urged him deeper.

"You better not stop," you warned through gritted teeth, your eyes meeting Devin's. The challenge of the past few weeks had only served to amplify your desire for each other, and now that the dam had broken, you were both eager to dive into the depths of your passion.

"Baby, you're so wet," Devin murmured, his voice thick with need. He increased his pace, his cock sliding in and out of you with a delicious ease that had you moaning his name.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your body lost to the feeling of Devin's thick cock filling you up. You had missed this, the way he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world, the way he knew exactly how to touch you to make you come undone. "Harder," you begged, your voice a desperate whine.

Devin obliged, his hips snapping against yours with a force that made the bed shake. The headboard slammed into the wall in time with your frenzied movements, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. Your legs pulled him deeper, urging him to take everything you had to give.

"Oh, shit," Devin groaned, his strokes becoming erratic as he felt himself nearing the edge. Your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm building like a crescendo. "Keep squeezing me like that, baby," he managed, his breath hot against your neck. "Make me come."

Your eyes snapped open, and you met his gaze with a fierce determination. You clamped down on him, your muscles tightening as you reached the start of your climax. Devin's eyes rolled back, and with a roar, he emptied himself inside you, his cock pulsing with the force of his release. You both lay there, panting and trembling, your hearts beating in time with the pounding bass from the speakers.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your heavy breathing and the occasional crackle of the candle flames. Then, Devin leaned down to kiss you, a soft, gentle press of his lips to yours. "Damn, baby," he whispered, his voice a warm caress. "That pussy's a weapon, I swear to god."

You chuckled, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. Your hands gently caressed Devin's back, feeling the sweat that had gathered from your intense lovemaking. "Is that a compliment or?" you teased, your voice a sultry whisper.

Devin grinned down at you, his teeth gleaming in the candlelight. "Both," he said, his voice a gruff rumble. "You always know how to make me lose control."

You giggled, feeling the stickiness between your thighs as you snuggled closer to him. Devin pulled out gently, rolling over to grab a towel from the nearby chair. He wiped you both down, taking care not to disturb the delicate post-orgasmic bliss that had settled over the two of you like a warm blanket. You lay there, your limbs tangled together, basking in the afterglow of your passionate reunion.

"Mm, I guess I do have that effect on you," you purred, your body still quivering from the intense pleasure Devin had brought you. You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you had the power to reduce him to a puddle of desire.

Devin chuckled, his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. Your bodies cooled as the candles continued to flicker, casting shadows that danced across the walls.

[ahhhhhhhh3613]

Little Bug:

Hello little bug, would you take this moment to stop and talk with me?

No doubt we each have plenty of stories to tell, you could tell me your tales of earth and soil, or maybe of your busy days, without respite or rest. I could tell you of people, of society, of rules, better I tell you of friendships and love.

Would you like that, little bug? A moment between the two of us for companionship.

Ahhh, but you are a bug. You cannot speak to me, you cannot tell stories, you cannot share your joy, nor can you share your pain. How sad must that be? I cannot imagine a world without storytelling, to live in it must be the worst torture… Do you care?

We are quite different from each other, little bug. But that is of little consequence. We are both alive after all.

Oh, how frightening this must be for you. To stand in the shadow of a titan, to hear its thunderous voice speaking on end. To be risen from your earthen sanctuary into the endless sky, without sign of returning. Your life hanging, balanced, upon my hand.

Perhaps I should leave you be, little bug. let you live a life of your own. It’s only fair, no?

Scurry away now my friend, return to your small kingdom and continue your life. There are precious few moments remaining for you, tiny creature, allocate them wisely, as you were trained by instinct. You will smile no matter the height of the sun.

Maybe we will meet again someday, and I will have learned purpose as you know it, and you will have learned stories as I know them. Even as the clock ticks on for both of us I will make time for you, and I will listen to your tales. Farewell, little bug.

[journey-to-the-attic]

one thing about ik is that she will always reach out