#it sounds cringy but i really truly do believe that

[bluebelledmoon]

girls supporting girls? nah dude. it’s artists supporting artists out here

[marimayscarlett]

It’s cold outside. Our heating is still off, I am desperately trying to get warm.

Do you happen to have some Richard pictures/stories that might warm my insides?

Thank you for your service, m’am🖤

Hi 👋

First of all, I truly hope that your heating will soon be working! Sending warmth and hugs your way 🤲🏼

Now, regarding some stories - not sure if these will do the trick, but I always feel warm/smile/sigh and look into the distance dreamily when I think about the following (sadly, I can't find sources for every story here - so some might just be cute "urban legends", but I just choose the believe them ☝😌):

A story of a fan about meeting Richard after a concert: "The hug I got was bone crushing. I was right in front of him. Cried my way through Frühling [...]. He checked on me and asked me if I was ok. Said i was fine and even the amount of times I'd seen them play, i got so caught up in the emotion. Richard told me they were the most moving moments for him at least and pulled me into a huge hug that if i think about it, i can still feel. Sounds weird but when you get a hug like that you dont forget it." (X)

It's incredibly nice to see how much he seems to care about his kids. Of course, that's the job of a dad, and yet it's not always the case. This situation warms my heart and makes it aching for him at the same time: “When my daughter, Khira, was 3 years old, she became very ill. There was nothing to worry about, a typical advanced tonsillitis. She was admitted to hospital. As always there were no seats in the wards I faced a choice: either pay for the ward or stay in the corridor. Only very wealthy people could afford the paid hospital ward. I was at that point that still could not afford it. We needed expensive medication, and I did not earn much. And she was put in the hallway. I slept with her in the hallway at night and her mother at daytime. And so the weeks passed until a free place appeared in the ward." (X)

Richard once mentioned (I think it was one of the festival interviews in 2017, yet I can't find the source anymore, so I might be wrong), that he was present during the birth of both of his daughters, and that the birth of a child is one of, if not the most, impressive things he has experienced in life. He seemed truly positively enthusiastic and sincere in that moment, which I found very beautiful, since not every man/father thinks like this.

Just this moment from this interview:

I find it rather endearing that he seems to love fantasy and would have liked to play a role in "Game of Thrones" or "Westworld", to let certain characters in him come to life. Richard seems to find enjoyment in movie worlds like these and I love that he speaks so openly about it 🥰 (X)

A long time ago, I read about an anecdote of the time when he lived with Till in the early 90's - they had little to no money, let alone food, so they apparently stole all the necessary ingredients, so Richard could make donuts for Till, who has a major sweet tooth. No idea if this is true, but it's really sweet.

In this interview, Richard expressed that he would drop everything to play a benefit for abused children.

He once gifted his guitar to the Hard Rock café in Berlin and signed it with "Rammstein!! RZK YeaH" which is kind of cringy, yet very cute?? (X)

Some pictures which just warm my heart - his comfy travel outfit, product free hair, him being soft and smiling, meeting a fan this year and being seemingly quite open, or just downright adorable on stage...

Weird assortment, I know and I'm sorry, but maybe it helps a bit 🤍

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, 3x9, A Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving, Part V

Previously on TWWGG, it was still Thanksgiving and the Gilmores were headed to the McMansion. I expected a typical Mother-Daughter-Grandparents-blowout re: Lorelai's embarrassing, pathetic, infantile behavior during the tour of Yale, but what I didn't know was that I'd be in for a surprise twist that would delight me to my very core. The younger Gilmores are introduced to some random richies who will be joining them for dinner and nosing in on their business. Lorelai embarrasses everyone by making cringy jokes, Rory attempts to speak some abysmal sounding French. At dinner the subject of college applications comes up and the random and nosy rich people are rightfully floored by Rory's admission that she's only applied to one school.

Wait for it...wait for it...

In a most stunning act of courage, of medal-worthy bravery, Rory defied Lorelai and went behind her back to submit an application to Princeton, and is admitting to it, which makes Lorelai hopping mad! LOL! She makes a total fool of herself in front of her parents, Rory, and the random rich people! CRY BITCH CRY! I can honestly say I have never been more proud of Rory Gilmore. YOU GO GIRL!

Excuse me bish, who's WE?

Golly gee, I wonder why Rory didn't want to tell you and felt she had no other choice but to go behind your back.

In order to avoid your wrath she had to go behind your back just to AGREE TO MAKE PLANS TO VISIT YALE TO WALK AROUND AND LOOK AT THE BUILDINGS! Leave my poor courageous baby alone.

HAHAHA SHE'S SO MAD! HAHAHAA LOL

(Sighs in Princeton)

Two Sports Announcers Named Bill and Bob (one is really excitable and the other is the calm one): Bill: OHHH! THE YOUNG GILMORE GOES IN FOR THE KILL! The one-two Yale punch! I don't think Lorelai is going to recover from this one, Bob. Bob: No siree, the younger Gilmore really went straight for Mom's jugular with the Yale application reveal. We're witnessing some truly first world problems here, Bill.

Bill: Ouch! Lorelai hits back with the "My daughter is a brainless extension of me who can't possibly be trusted to make her own decisions" Bob: Brutal, Bill. Absolutely brutal. Bill: This will certainly land the Younger Gilmore in years of intense therapy. Lorelai: BUT WHY? WHY YALE? Girl, we've been over this. Now Lorelai believes Rory and the elder Gilmores have been holding secret Talk About Yale meetings behind her back. When they had time to do that, I don't know, because the start of the Great 2002 Yale Debacle was only one episode prior. Oh, I'm sorry, Lorelai thinks there were "Emails". Richard and Emily know what email is?

Sure Lorelai, you're not paranoid, and Taylor Doose isn't funneling money from the bridge repair fund into his own pocket to take trips to Maui and Jess Mariano didn't slaughter Shane on the football field behind the school after the DanceMurderThon and dump her body in the lake. Pshhh. People and their crazy conspiracy theories, right?

Lorelai is really confused by this foreign concept of people changing their minds about things.

Are you there God? It's me, CrazyPantsMcGee.

Is Lorelai looking up at the sky hoping...God himself will intervene? Does she want God to come down from the heavens and tell Rory to listen to Mommy and that she sinned when she went behind her back and applied to Yale?

You're talking to a brick wall here, Em. She doesn't understand the confusing concepts of things like backup schools, changing one's mind, or how hitting on her daughter's boyfriend is inappropriate. Give up.

Digestion time is over. E: You wont let Rory have even one piece of our lives? You hate us that much? Lorelai doesn't respond and just rolls her eyes so that's how you know Emily is right and that Lorelai can't admit she's wrong or it will eat her up inside just like the worms that ate up Shane's corpse after the DanceMurderThon.

[thekhoei]

i was doing laundry and thinking about my friends, to some point i come to realize how much we need love in our life. to some point love becomes cringy and insufferable, but it truly is magical, undeniable.

i was thinking about Ringo's Octopus Garden. that silly and childish song everyone isn't really fond of. i mean with that amount of talent The Beatles have, Octopus Garden at some point is just a throwaway song. but i think that's just because some people don't spend that much of time to try to understand why did Ringo write that? we all know that he is the last member to join, his down-to-earth and simple nature of personality makes people looks down on him, comparing to other member's big ego. his songwriting isn't complicated and full of self-conflict, or too romantic like his other friends, it's mostly about his own perception of masculinity. i mean hand down he is the only actual teddy boy of the group. that song at some point really sounds out of Ringo's character. but that man was blessed with his fanciful imagination and charming wit, with an easy-going and a bit laid back sense. he is also full of self-aware. sure he has insecurity, and often viewed as the "butt-monkey" of the group, but he always thrive to be joyful and find his own happiness. the time he left the band, which is also the time that marks the writing of Octopus Garden, he was finding the peace for his own sake. that was intensive and stressful time for the whole band, when everyone in the band thought they were left out. at last he found the joy and inspiration to come back, and realized his love for his bandmates that he chose to ask them about how they felt about him. it mostly was miscommunication that makes them felt unappreciated. being too weird, too young, too much of a perfectionist, too late for the band, all of them couldn't find the connection and joy of being a band. Octopus Garden was Ringo's imagination and dream to be happy with his friends again. i really love that many people understand the song this way instead of denying its brilliance. if i was told that octopuses like to keep treasures to make a little garden, my first thought would be a giant yellowish octopus who lives in a glass house and likes to plant flowers. i love to nurture my inner child and let myself be curious and imaginative. and i think Ringo did that also. he let himself to imagine the unrealistic that gives him joy. because that's just who he is. a sweet and joyful, bit much of childish man. i also really like this answer on quora about him btw i want to share (and yes i use quora). the moral main main main point of the song was him wanting his friends to find the same joy like him, to enjoy the stupid thing that their younger selves were always like to learn about, maybe he didn't realize it at all or couldn't put it into words, but through his lyrics, it's pretty much shown. he really wish his friends could find the peace for their restless souls. Ringo was special just like his own mates, i hate everyone who devalue him in the matter of the whole band. he was a Beatle, he is a Beatle, he will always be a Beatle in our heart, not some lucky dude who got the chance to be in The Beatles. that makes the four of them. sometimes i feel bad for Pete Best too, but just like everyone always said to me, it's not your fault that you aren't the right one for them. just like Cynthia and John's marriage.

John said he didn't believe in The Beatles. it's a stupid thing to say. but to acknowledge his experience, to be aware of the terrible wound he carried in his heart, i would just agree with him for losing that belief. the band he created with his friends was solely just for fun. they were young, they were reckless, and they were full of that youthful enthusiasm. sure we are sad that the band didn't last longer despise they tryna hold them tight, but it just didn't really click anymore. they don't feel the joy. John was depressed, George was fed up, Ringo was insecure, Paul was exhausted. the band wasn't something fun, it becomes stupid business matters and a mess. it was a mess, but not this kind of mess they were dealing with. there were so many factors that ended the band, we can't blame all on one person. i really like the journey of John's music, especially the Real love's evolution from Real life, a depressed mindset of a man who was trying to accept his pain, to the current Real love, what he realized that's the key of life. i really like to see him express his grief. the other day i was thinking, if that man wasn't assassinated, would he kill himself at some point? but i now think he wouldn't. sure he is a mess, he is imperfect, but in the end that emotionally wise man would find the peace he needs, even though it seems impossible to achieve. Cynthia deserved better, she was an angel. he abandoned her, but she sympathized his pain. it was not her fault, had never been her fault, but she was just like Pete Best of her own marriage. there were so many factors. sure Yoko is not a saint, but John could finally find the love he needed. the love that Cynthia provided and sacrificed, but never clicked in the right spot. she deserved better, but he also deserved the love he lacked his whole life. Yoko gave him the thing he truly needed. now i'm not defending that awful things he had done to Cyn, i don't want to be a fucking apologist for his terrible irresponsibility, i just want to sympathize and acknowledge his grief. it's essential for a person on their journey of healing. John deserved that.

i barely talk about George or Paul on this account, because i just don't really understand both of them, i don't share much of similar experience to theirs. but i really like how George trying to achieve his goal of spiritualism to tell us that "All thing must pass". i had the chance to interact with the influence of Buddhism at a very young age, despite George's action sometimes went against much of the belief he wanted to follow, but he sure did reached his goal before his death. at least man found the peace he desired. Paul was a quite difficult case for me to understand him, not because he is complicated, but that man was just. he knows his own ground, and he is so much different than his peers. i admire that man tbh

talking about each individual of the band really helps me learn about myself and life. i really appreciate how The Beatles "capture the sound of a human soul" like that comment i saw on In my life's youtube comment section. there just will never be another band like The Beatles.

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Firestarter 1998 Black Metal

I guess ever since I learned about the history of black metal, particularly its Norwegian second wave, I've just been in a sort of shock over how popular it still managed to become. Like, clearly some of its tenets—pure evil and Satanic worship—were played up for sensationalistic shock value, and many ended up biting hard on that aspect of it, just like how lots of concerned American parents got whipped up into a frenzy over their kids listening to Ozzy Osbourne, Judas Priest, and Iron Maiden in the 80s, convincing themselves that if their impressionable kid played the records backwards, that they could then become possessed by demons because of the imagined Satanic messaging that was hidden in the music. Just pure, laughable silliness, especially considering just how tame a lot of that music sounds today.

But early 90s Norwegian black metal was a far more serious beast, with some of the most extreme fears that were borne by that Satanic panic actually sort of coming to fruition. I mean, whether or not anyone within that Norwegian scene actually believed in their own bullshit, some of its members still managed to gain notoriety by doing some truly heinous and horrifying stuff, like murder. One of the scene's founders, Euronymous, from a band called Mayhem, and who also owned the Oslo record store where Norwegian black metal had originally started, once repeatedly stabbed a gay man to death.

And another thing that this scene manifested was a whole spate of church burnings as well; like fifty of them. Again, whether or not these musicians actually believed in any form of Satanism or held extreme anti-Christian beliefs totally becomes beside the point when they actually end up causing real world harm. But those actions that they took in order to gain credibility, by practicing what they preached in their music, caused the whole scene to become its own spectacle anyway, which is what it seems like some of its most vocal members had wanted all along; a self-fulfilling prophecy, as it were.

Now, while I viscerally tend to despise the sound of black metal itself, mostly because of its shrieking, demonic vocals, I'm not here to say that because a bunch of Norwegians took their shit way too far, that black metal, as a whole, should be canceled. I, personally, find its presentation and obsession with all things morose and evil to be really, really corny, but if you dig it, then more power to you.

But what I really struggle to wrap my head around—and perhaps I really shouldn't be as surprised as I am here—is that despite all of this violence and hatred that some musicians in the Norwegian scene themselves actually carried out in real life, that labels would still be willing to play footsie with those bands. Like, this comp, from Century Black Records, isn't from an obscure label of any kind; Century Black was a sublabel of Century Media Records, which is a very popular and diverse metal label that's now owned by fucking Sony! Like, you can easily find Mayhem's music on Spotify, the band of the guy who did that murder!

And understandably, there is a concerted effort by metal enthusiasts, and the industry as a whole, to deride and not platform black metal's Nazi subgenre, but if a dude who wasn't a confirmed Nazi committed a grisly, unprovoked killing that was also quite possibly a hate crime, and he and a bunch of others burned some churches too, well, Sony's capitalizing on their music right now. Fucking wild, right?

So, my objection here isn't to the sound or the absurdly cringy themes that black metal itself is steeped in, but it's that a label would still include a band like Mayhem on their comp. Like, isn't that some shit you'd wanna sweep under a rug, like with the Nazi stuff?! But no; I mean, do you see this album cover and title? Firestarter? What do you think they're referring to there, especially with this CD that's largely a showcase of foundational Norwegian black metal bands? Gee, I wonder 🤔.

And guess what? I didn't actually hate this album as much as I thought I would. I mean, I'm still all the way out on all of these songs once the typical black metal vocals kick in, but some of these riffs and melodies, combined with breakneck-paced drumbeats, are very impressive and satisfying to a tiny slice of me that enjoys some very heavy music from time to time. And some of these songs lean a little proggy too, which I can also get down with.

But can we please not do such a transparent allusion to one of the most truly abhorrent phenomena that Norwegian black metal begat? I mean, I understand the issues that people have with Christianity and organized religion more broadly, and I, myself, am a hardened atheist too, but can we please tone it the fuck down here by not flippantly making reference, in both the title and album art, to something reprehensible that actually repeatedly happened? Like, can we not glorify any of that extracurricular shit or present this album in such a way?! I mean, if you were making an album of Phil Spector's greatest hits, your album art wouldn't include anything that referenced the murder he committed, right?

No highlights.

[cheripepsii]

I weirdly feel like I’m in this constant state of getting worse. I know that this is probably due to an uprising hormones due to a “personal situation.” But I truly feel as if whenever I get up the world seems to find a way to knock me right back down.

As I’ve mentioned previously, I struggle with mental illness. But I don’t only struggle with one thing. Unfortunately, I struggle with several different mental disorders, and they affect my daily life so much that I’ve never truly felt like a normal person. I know that sounds really cringy, but when I say, “I don’t feel like a normal person”, I say it with the intention that I don’t feel proper empathy. Nor am I able to respond to stressful (and even happy) situations properly. I always end up pushing myself wayyy too far.

Lately I’ve been struggling with my mental health, especially bad. I had to miss a club practice today due to this. My social worker had set a boundary that I can’t come to the office as much (I do admit that my visits have been a bit excessive.) and my brain had viewed this as “rejection” and I broke down. Other things that happened as well, and I had pushed myself way too far. I even had to miss an activity with a college program im involved in.

It’s not that I don’t love my passions and my extracurriculars, I am just not mentally healthy enough in order to take on tasks that require me to be there both physically and mentally. And it sucks whenever you’re too sick to do things, but in the wise words as one of my favorite teachers had said when I was venting to him, I am at my “ tip of the iceberg moment.”

I believe with all the stress and anxiety I’ve been under, it would be better for me to take a day away from work and school and everything else. I believe that I need a moment to benefit myself for the sake of being able to be there mentally and physically in the future at my extracurriculars and school… and work.

So this is a reminder to everyone out there who is pushing themselves and holding all their emotions back. It’s not healthy and it will only make you burst and burn out like a dead star. You deserve to take a break, you deserve to take 100. Whether the only thing you did today was got up and swept the floor while struggling with depression, or you lost a loved one, you are doing the absolute best you can and you deserve a break.

[obabayangu]

When You KNOW You Lyin'

August 8th, 2023

Y'ALL! Tell me why I'm STILL single? 😒Smh. I aint too mad about it tho...not anymore. After having fifty 'leven coming to Jesus meetings with my father, I have understanding now. Wanna hear what I came up with? Wanna hear my conclusion?

Lemme clear my throat *AHEM*

"God is hiding my man from all of the hoes out here and for that, I am grateful. He is not withholding my man from me to torture me and see me suffer. God knows my desire to meet my mate. So he's hiding him for a good reason and I trust him. My man is NOT delayed and is on the way!"

Sounds good right?

Chile, if only you knew how long it took ME to convince ME of what I wrote above. But, we gone get into allat. First, lemme update y’all and then bring it on back:

Yea my last post? Don't mind that. I thought about deleting it but, I'm supposed to be "transparent" so y'all about to get ALL this ghettoness! Just trust the process sis and watch the testimony unload. But, y'all know I'm not shady. I'll address the last post, and all the other posts relating to the man I dated recently. My last post was just apart of the breakup. To keep it a buck, I thought that I was writing about my husband 🤷🏾‍♀️ and WONT! 🤣 You know when you're at that point in the breakup and you start desiring dumb stuff, even if it doesn't make sense? So you express dumb things like "I want this no good man even tho---lemme stop. He was NOT not no good. He just was not what God, shoot, even what I wanted for me. And I knew that chile, smh. From the giddy up. But you know how you get real desperate and feel like all the real mens of GAWDT evaporated? Yup. So I settled, BIG TIME. Like I said, he was a real good man. But just not God's best for ME and my preferences. So now I've got 2-3 cringy posts--don't worry, its apart of the testimony--but, they're up here and they profess LIES that I KNEW were LIES when I wrote them. Like Girl, how do you compromise on your DEALBREAKERS? 🙄 And then romanticize it up smh. Just tried to write them out hoping to make it make sense and make him fit into the man that I truly desired. Yup. Definitely "my bad". But, he did us both a favor and did what I could NOT do and chose NOT to do, and cut it off to put us both out of our misery. Chile, when I tell you that relationship won't IT. Sis, smh. The connection alone that I desired NEVER arose. And I felt that the WHOLE time, and STILL stayed? Just settling in the UPmost ways possible smh. So all the posts below this, romanticized LIES girl. And I knew while writing them that that man wasn’t who I wanted—WHILE WRITING “This man is exactly who I want” 😒 But again, it's alright. Just apart of the testimony. Now what was I saying? Oh yea, this ghetto'd down singleness

Sike--lemme stop playing and stop speaking like that over my singleness. Has it had it's ghetto'd days? YES INDEED!!!! And a LOT of them recently. Sis, I have been struggling HARDT in my singleness lately, harder than I have EVER struggled in my adult life. I'm talking about me tryna mind mine and Satan whispers "You single." Like will you SHUT-UP!

But, like I said, after a DEEP coming to Jesus meeting, I had to sit down and evaluate what was going on with me.

What’s Really Good?

I discovered 3 things:

I idolized wanting to be in a relationship

I was being tricked by Satan's lies

I was faking rather than owning my funk.

Idolization- Not cute. It’s an easy place to fall into and when I noticed the overconsumption of thoughts revolved around my singleness, I let God have it.

The DECEIT- Y’all. The enemy lies SO MUCH, it’s “ludacris”. LUDA 🗣️ I had began to believe big fat lies about my singleness to the point where sometimes I’d leave church, crying, because not one man of God, in the Lord’s own house, even looked at me let alone approached me. After leaving certain environments alone, instead of walking away unbothered, I’d walk away believing that because my husband wasn’t at that venue either, that it’s gonna take an even longer time than anticipated, to meet him. I’d believed that God was withholding my man from me on purpose to do a prolonged test on me, while seeing me in pain, and I believed that I need to prove to God that I was unbothered in order to receive him already. All LIES sis! I debunked almost allat with 2 simple verses:

Habakkuk 2:3 “—If it seems slow in coming, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed.”

‭ Psalms 84:11 “—The Lord will withhold no good thing from those who do what is right.”

And these 2 verses alone held so much power and called out the enemies LIES! Sometimes, you gotta talk back to your situation with the TRUTH. Make sure that what you’re saying about your situation lines up with what God says about your situation. So after recognizing that Satan was lying to me and trying to discourage me, I had to deal with the back end of it.

Sis. I am SO happy for all the happy, occupied, unbothered, single women who are “focusing on them”, “waiting patiently”, and “not looking” for their husbands”. Cause guess what sis? THAT AINT ME! Yet, I thought that I had to abide by this recipe to somehow “trick God” into blessing me with my husband if I just did and “acted” like how all of the mature Christian women did. I thought for sure then he’d just show up “right when I least expected it”. Cause this is what they preach, right? This is the posture single women should sit in to receive their amazing men of God. Y’all. I’m done faking THAT funk. Somewhere in the middle of my meeting with Jesus, I had a revelation that I’d been trying SO hard to “act” like my singleness doesn’t bother me and “act” like it’s okay but that’s simply not my story. Singleness is HARDT y’all. I am EAGER to meet my husband and can’t wait to involve him in my non busy life! But I am conquering through this thang, with God’s help. So this is me, sharing MY story of singleness, and maybe yours too. I may not be sitting pretty & patient like all of the other good Christian church girls keep telling me to do, but instead, I’m gonna walk through the TRUE challenges of my testimony—while waiting on my husband lol. So sit back, relax, grab your popcorn

and your edges

cause chile, this ride is about to be CRAZY! But worth the wait!

‭

[magpie-blues]

MagpieBlues

Hiya!

I’m Magpie, or Maggie. Welcome to my aesthetic tumblr page where I ramble about my newest hyper fixation and reblog posts I find cool.

My pronouns are He/She

I am on ao3 ‘MagpieBlues’

What I do:

I am mostly a writer! I like to share my writing and have started to share my works, cringy they may be to me, it might bring joy to others! I mostly write whenever I’m feeling down, it’s a stress reliever. Sometimes it’s nice to just get lost in the sauce and write some stories.

I am most known by close friends to write angst and hurt/comfort, but I do enjoy fluff from time to time.

Feel free to send me some asks! I’ll try to keep up with all of them.

I do NOT do…

-Smut or sexually explicit content. It’s something I personally don’t like doing and it makes me uncomfortable.

-promote incest, homophobia, pedophilia, racism, sexism, ableism, bigotry etc, of any kind. I want to promote kindness not hate.

-Cancel culture. From what I’ve experienced and seen it’s damaging and all out toxic. I truly believe there are better ways to handle problems and issues around a brand or person besides all out Twitter war.

-Proship/proshippers, for the controversy and uncomfortable things I’ve seen from people who claim they are/ use this term, I don’t want to support the idea of it/the term.

Basically, just be kind! I know that sounds cheesy but I really do want to be in a positive place and mindset.

Enjoy your stay!

[cursivebloodlines]

"Heh... maybe I am," Tessa admitted sheepishly, cringing inwardly at herself. "I don't know what I was expecting. Erm, just... something, higher... maybe?" Here we go again with the nerves. She felt like a right dumbass for even trying to explain herself. "Kinda just hm.. how do I put this right, um -" Shaking her head at herself, she let out a hesitant laugh. "Not that I thought you were a player or anything like that! Because I know you're not. But... well. I mean -" A fresh wave of heat warmed her cheeks once more. She truly would not win today. Every time she thought she couldn't get any redder, she proved herself wrong again and again and again. "You're... well... you're you... So..." Tess knew what she was trying to say. But finding the right words to explain it proved more difficult than anything. Words she wouldn't dream to say out loud. Such as: 'a handsome, very attractive man such as yourself should attract a lot of attention, I would've thought'. She could imagine what Diego's face would have been like if she had said that aloud. The relentless teasing and all. But no, she refused to let him have the satisfaction of that. Not when she was already flustered enough as it was. Since when did he have such an effect on her? "Why would I be worried?"

She rolled her eyes at Diego's retorts, unable to wipe that smile off her face. She couldn't even find it in her to pretend to be serious with him. Even when, essentially, he was calling her a liar. Jokingly, obviously. There really was just something about him, something about tonight, this moment... It was pure. Magical... In her idealistic little head, like the stars had aligned or some cringy shit like that. Because of course, Tessa believed in that sort of stuff. In everything, really. It made life that little more exciting. What's the point if you don't believe in the impossible? How mundane other's lives must be, to not even try and believe. Or belittle those who did believe all because they weren't open-minded enough to try. She never felt like that around Diego, thankfully. Sure, he may not share the same beliefs as her... but he was always respectful of them, of her. And she did try to be persuasive, and he was always willing to take the chance.

Then he had to bring up kissing. Which, naturally, had Tessa thinking about what it would be like to do that. To...to kiss him. Sure, the fleeting thought had come up a few times over the course of their friendship but... Things were different now. They were seeing each other in a new light... That didn't sound right. It wasn't new... but it was their first time properly sharing said feelings. Instinctively, her gaze drifted to his lips as her mind drifted back and forth between the temptation. That wouldn't be fair on him if she did, would it? Not when she hadn't given him a definite answer as of yet. The anticipation made her heart flutter, she couldn't deny. And she did wonder...It was plaguing her thoughts for a little moment there, biting her lower lip like it would enable her to hold back. "Oh, now there's a thought," Tessa finally said after a moment, her eyes meeting his once again. "Careful, Diego. It sounds like you want me to. Like... like you're lowkey baiting me to. Like a.. a challenge, or something." She couldn't take the jittery waver out of her voice as she spoke, almost quietly. Like she was torn between wanting to just go for it, or secretly hoping that he would... It wouldn't be fair on him, she kept telling herself.

Tessa nodded her head with a warm smile when Diego settled with the idea of their 'rustiness' with heartwarming rather than concern. "Okay then. That makes two of us. I don't think it should be concerning. I mean - there is nothing wrong with being rusty, is there? Only get concerned if the rust gets rustier..." she trailed off, a questioning look painted on her features as though she was saying 'what the hell am I talking about?' without explicitly stating the words verbally. The way his demeanor changed ever so slightly did not go unnoticed. A small frown etched on her face, she tilted her head a fraction, studying his expression. Was it something she said? "Everything okay?" She couldn't help but ask, unable to shake off the feeling that he wasn't particularly pleased with what she said. His reassurances meant a lot to her. Made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And still..."You don't know they won't. They might do," Tess pointed out in response to him saying his feelings for her wouldn't fade overnight. "What if I finally figure it out - and it takes me too long and by then you've moved on? These things do happen. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to you to keep you waiting. Especially if in the end..." she trailed off, not wanting to say the words 'if we don't do this after all.' And yet he remained adamant and sure that no matter what happened, they wouldn't lose their friendship. It was delightful to hear, the way he seemed so sure of it had her believing in it too, believing in his every word.

"Okay. If you're sure. No losses. That's good." She said, nodding her head with conviction like she was affirming it to herself. Normally she'd have made a joke about how she always got sick of him, but never long enough for it to be permanent. It didn't seem right. Not in a moment like this. If she decided to be no more than just friends, though. Could they ever truly go back to that? Could she do that? Knowing what she knew now... knowing that there is that part of her knowing that there was something there but never giving it a chance to fruition because she was scared? It was all too confusing. Why couldn't she just tell him, yes. Yes. Yes yes yes. There and then. She wished it was so easy. She didn't want to tell him yes and then backpedal on it after. Too much could go wrong... and promises of it not changing anything in the longrun are different to it actually happening. Why was she so indecisive?

The way Diego answered her question made her laugh. Again with a witty remark. Half a shrug rolled from her shoulders. "Maybe I did." It wasn't a lie...albeit with that confession in the open, it didn't necessarily mean she knew her answer. Which again, seemed very unfair to him. Her brows rose as he started to explain the question. Here she was, seeing yet another side of him. She thought it was adorable. People actually used to do that? Heck, younger Tessa would've loved that. How could someone say no to a gesture that was so cute? It was such a simple thing, yet something that continued to warm her tender heart. She was willing to bet that actually worked, too. Hearing him say it was endearing, and her smile stretched further. "That's so sweet. There is nothing wrong with old-fashioned..." she assured, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. "Just goes to show chivalry is not completely dead yet. You're restoring my faith in humanity, D." Turned out the more she learned from him, the more she was beginning to realise just how much she had missed out on. The little things to make someone feel special... She would've done anything for that. "Since you said you um, were willing to ask 'the' question... Does that mean you're also hiding some chocolates, somewhere?" Tess teased...mostly. It was cute; he was cute.

"You sound pleased with my confession." He pointed out, a chuckle slipping past him. Okay, maybe this was amusing. "Were you expecting a higher number?" Diego did wonder if this was something important to her, a dealbreaker of sorts. Had he ever come across as a heartbreaker? "Only some," Diego reiterated. "So, nothing for you to worry about." And of that, he was certain. He did know he wouldn't be bringing up something like this if he was tied up elsewhere.

His smile was inevitable as she moved closer to him. At least that was still intact for them. Diego couldn't be sure yet, there were still so many unknown variables, but this helped him believe that they'd be okay. No matter where things ended up for them. It was his biggest hope, now that everything had been placed out there. Getting rejected would be rough, sure...but losing a friend like her - losing his go-to person? That would hurt him more than he wanted to think of. He was willing to bargain with her, anything in order to keep their friendship. Though, he selfishly hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Confirmed, yes - he was loving this. Diego was loving every second of this. Her stuttering over her words, the flush in her cheeks, the stolen glances in between. It was quickly becoming his favorite language to decipher. "Hm," a hum came from his chest, pretending to consider her words. Nope. "That's not what it sounds like Tess...but sure, whatever you say." Hearing her giggle made his heart skip a beat, Diego was certain. Still, it didn't prepare him to reach up and cover his mouth. Clever way to prevent him from speaking his truth! A secret admirer, is that what she was calling herself now? He playfully rolled his eyes at the explanation, sure. Whatever she needed to tell herself. To her next question, Diego raised his hands in the air - as if caught red-handed, and nodded yes. "Geez Tess, didn't know you'd go to those lengths to shut me up. Kissing is a lot more effective, you know." He joked, gaze falling on her once more. It was a joke, unless she felt differently.

Diego was a bit surprised she accepted his reasoning, didn't ask more about it. Believing he was an idiot was probably not that difficult, huh? "Well, not sure if it's heartwarming that we're both rusty...or concerning. I'll believe in heartwarming though, just for our sake." At least they were both on the same level of experience here. Maybe it made the conversation easier. "Well, I'm hoping that's the attitude you keep. Not holding back and such." Brows furrowed at the second question. She was still trying to figure it out? Well, that was not where he expected this went. Diego thought this was more of a yes/no deal. He cleared his throat, regaining any composure lost. "Well...you need to take time to figure out what you're feeling." That's where this was going, the usual - don't want to hurt you portion. "Hey," he spoke softly, gently squeezing her frame. "I'm serious. It sounds like there's a lot going in your mind. I don't want you to feel pressured to answer right this second. This isn't a limited-time offer or something of the sort. My feelings won't expire tomorrow." That much he was certain of.

The idea of waiting scared him a bit, Diego had to admit. His feelings wouldn't change, he knew that, but the possibility that she decides otherwise left him a bit nervous. Waiting didn't guarantee she'd reach him where he was. Giving her time was the right thing to do though. It was a fair ask. If his life wasn't so rigid, black and white, he'd probably need time too. "Against my better judgement, I'm reiterating. Think about it. I'll answer what I can, like...the fact that you're special to me too and I can't afford to lose you. I can remind you that no matter how this ends, i'll be there. We were friends first, right? I'll be around until you get sick of me. But, I'll also say that it's okay, if you just want to be friends. We don't risk anything, no loss."

Tessa's follow up question surprised him, but only for a moment. She asked out of curiosity, that was all. He had to remind himself of that, at least until their situation was defined. Was she asking to catch a reaction from him? The smirk once again making an appearance, "got excited there for a second, thought you wanted me to present the question to you." He half-joked. "The official question, well you know...like those school yard confessions. You bring the box of chocolates, guide them to a corner of the playground, and officially ask, will you be my girlfriend?" This sounded a lot better in his head, explaining this was a bit embarrassing the more he thought about it. "Hey, it was very formal back when I was in school. I don't know why, girls loved it. Maybe it was because the question was asked. Anyways, little Diego kept the tradition alive, so yep, the official question. Perhaps a little old-fashioned though."

[hollybell51]

Connections

Series masterlist, masterpost

Thomas x fem!Reader Maze Runner (2009 novel - James Dashner, 2014 film - Wes Ball)

Word count: 1944 (whoo!)

Summary: you’re used to the boys who come up in the box being a little weird at first, but something about this one is oddly... familiar. And he feels it too. 

Content: canon-typical amnesia, light angst, Thomas just being Thomas, teenaged-romance-typical cringiness, you get the gist. 

Notes: starts in Thomas’s POV (but alternates between his and yours cause I love a good dual perspective) so obviously it’s a little weird since he initially doesn’t know you, so I didn’t wanna jump straight into the “you” etc. It’s in third person for this reason (”she” “her” etc), although everything from the second paragraph onwards is second person as per usual. You gotta just ignore that bit and take it as necessary backing for the main thing cause I wasn’t 100% sure on how to do it, but this made sense in my head. 

I just got my wisdom teeth out so I’m stuck in a hospital with not all too much to do just eating custard, soup and jelly. My friend did come and visit me so that was pretty great, but multiplayer minecraft isn’t working :( Also why are all nurses ever so freaking pretty I genuinely don’t understand. Is being pretty something that happens to you at nurse school? Do they only allow pretty people into nurse school? It’s a mystery, truly. Either way, this, reading the book my friend brought me and annotating my English book are pretty much all I have to do other than watching stuff so yeah... 

Unrelated, but I love a good sweaty confused sad angry lost annoyed little man and he does it so well

The boy looked up, shielding his eyes from the light to see a girl crouched at the top of the box, smiling down at him. There was something about her, he thought, that seemed to compel him to keep looking at her slightly messy (y/h/c) hair, her bright (y/e/c) eyes that seem to be sharing some kind of joke with him. 

You reached a hand down, and he got up off the floor, taking it. Your skin was warm and you had a strong grip. You helped him out of the box, smiling at his no doubt stunned expression as he looked around, taking in the massive stone walls and what appeared to be a farm tended by about 20 – no, more – people who couldn’t have been much older than he was. And somehow, amid all the strangeness, your hand in his was familiar.

“Hello, Greenie,” you said – damn, you even had a nice voice, the kind that made him believe that everything was ok. “I’m (Y/N).”

“I’m…” the boy trailed off. He didn’t know what his name was. How could that be? Surely he had a name. But as he racked his brains, the only thing that came to him was that you were called (Y/N), and that everything was going to be fine as long as you were beside him. “What is this place?”

“This is the Glade.” You gestured around, encompassing the whole farm in a sweep of your arm. “And don’t worry about your name, it’ll come back later. It’s the one thing they let you keep.”

“They?” Everything was getting weirder by the second. 

“I’ll explain later. First, let me show you around.”

~

The Greenie asked a lot of questions. Like, a lot. It was odd, you felt like you knew him, like you’d seen him before, and you kept almost grabbing his hand. You did your best to answer his questions, but eventually you stopped. To tell the truth, as bad as it sounded even to you, you couldn’t really be bothered anymore. He’d find his feet before too long. 

“Greenie,” you said, turning to him, “I’m gonna need you to just be patient. You’ll pick it all up eventually, but enough questions, ok?”

“Yeah,” he answered ruefully, “ok.”

He was cute, you supposed, with dark brown hair cut short, a muscular build, and bright green eyes. Nice face, if only he’d stop looking so confused all the time. You couldn’t blame him, not really. A little wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows every time he frowned, and you caught yourself almost reaching up and smoothing it away several times. You realised you were staring at him and looked away quickly, continuing the tour.

 You had a bonfire that night, as was tradition every month when a new Greenie arrived. You sat back, watching as he challenged Gally to a fight (bad idea) which you somehow found endearing and normal, like that was the way it should be. Maybe he just had the kind of vibe of someone who wouldn’t back down, people who were upstarts tended to have a certain look about them. At least, that was what you told yourself as he froze, stood still for a moment then shouted,

“Thomas! I remember my name, I’m Thomas!”

After that, everyone patted him on the back, his disagreement with Gally completely forgotten.

“So, Thomas,” you said as you approached, looking up at him, “what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” he frowned, that little wrinkle showing itself once more. You took his hand, leading him to where you usually sat with Newt, away from all the clamour. You both found that while the vigour and headiness of being around the others could be fun, it was also tiring at times. 

“Thomas, huh?” Newt said, offering him a jar of Gally’s god-awful moonshine.

Thomas took a mouthful, but spat it out pretty fast. “What is that stuff?” he asked, revolted.

“No idea,” Newt answered, taking the jar back.

“You know,” you decided, slinging an arm across Thomas’s shoulders, “I like you Greenie.”

~

 “(Y/N)!” Thomas ran up to you, his face sweaty.

“What’s up, Greenie?” You straightened, leaning on your shovel. It had been a week since Thomas’ arrival, and he was settling in pretty well apart from the odd disagreement and his unfortunate condition of too much curiosity. You hadn’t seen him around too much, your work as a gardener and his constant stream of odd jobs and trials of the different occupations had seen to that, but you’d found that you had an easy rapport with him on the day that he’d been beside you tending to the vegetable patch and when you were eating (he’d sat with you most for most meals after that first night, which you weren’t too fussed about. Besides, he brought Chuck with him and the little kid was always fun to be around). Even if he could be a little annoying with all his questions and occasionally slipped into a morose bout of heavy brooding (“I’m not brooding,” he’d protested when you’d poked him and told him to stop it, “I’m just… thinking.”), you liked the comfortable back and forth between you, and being around him felt… right. 

Now, he looked near frantic as he stood panting before you, his eyes wild. “I remembered something. From before the Maze.”

“What?” Your mind spun. That never happened, ever. Maybe it was a dream and he’d gotten confused, maybe he’d hit his head. Still, you could indulge him. “What did you remember?”

Thomas glanced around, then jerked his head towards the Deadheads. Against your better judgement, you followed him into the fringes of the trees.

~

The memories swirled around Thomas’s head, disjointed and confused, but still memories. He remembered you, how you’d been with him before the Maze, how close you were. A flash of white hallway, disabled security cameras and sneaking into each other’s rooms at night. He remembered your lips on his, the way your body felt under his hands.

He reached the edge of the Deadheads, and you stopped, resting your weight on one leg and placing a hand on your hip. “Alright Greenie,” you said – Thomas wished you’d use his name, “what did you remember?”

“I remembered us, you and me, before we came here,” he said quietly, not quite sure how to tell you what he knew. Would you think he was crazy, delusional? That he was just a stupid boy with a crush – because yeah, he liked you, definitely did – on the only girl he’d seen in… He supposed he’d known girls before whatever strange memory block that started at waking up in the elevator – Box, as you’d called it. That was another strange thing about this place, he thought, you were the only girl, and nobody apparently knew why. Either way, he didn’t want you to think he was silly or mad. 

He forged on. “I felt like I knew you even before you told me your name, when I woke up.”

You frowned, chewing the inside of your cheek. You really were adorable when you were thinking. “What about us, what did you remember about me and you, Thomas?”

He took a deep breath, looking around again. “I just remember sneaking through hallways with you, and…”

“And what? Just spit it out already!” You were getting impatient.

“Ok, this is going to sound super weird,” he looked around again and you crossed your arms. “We were…” He stopped. He couldn’t say it, he couldn’t face the raised eyebrow as you tried to hide your look of incredulity and then pity that would inevitably flash across your face. 

“Are you going to share this wonderful pearl of wisdom with me or not?” The sarcasm in your voice jolted him back to another time, hiding outside in the cold, you sitting on his lap, his jumper wrapped around you both. You were saying something about the weather. “Thomas?” you asked, a hint of concern in your voice.

“(Y/N),” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “before the Maze, you and I were together.”

“Together?” you asked, “Like, you knew me?” 

He thought he caught a faint flash of apprehension, hope, even, dart across your face. “Yeah, I remember you, we used to sneak into each other’s rooms and outside, and you’d hack the security system, so we wouldn’t get caught.” He smiled at the memory.

“Thomas what…?” A crease appeared between your brows, and you were tilting your head to the side slightly. “What do you mean? How do you know?” Your frown deepened, even more unsure as you gestured to the space between you and him. “Were we… a couple?” 

Thomas released a breath, secretly relieved you’d been the one to say it. “Yeah, yeah we were. (Y/N), trust me, I remember, and I know these are memories.” On an impulse, he took your hand, holding it tightly. “I feel like I know you, and everything about you is familiar. Sometimes when you do or say something, I get a flashback…”

“What do you mean a flashback? What of?” you interrupted, and he realised he wasn’t really making sense.

Thomas tried to talk slowly. “Like before, when you were being sarcastic, I remembered us, sitting outside at night and it was freezing cold, so you were sitting on my lap and we had this jumper wrapped around us, and I must have said something about it being cold because you were being sarcastic about the weather and…”

“Thomas stop,” you said, and he looked at your beautiful clear eyes, so full of emotion.

“(Y/N),” he almost whispered.

“No,” you said, searching his face, “Thomas, I really like you, I do, and I feel like I’ve known you before as well, but this is crazy!”

“No,” he protested, “this is what I remember!”

“I know,” your eyes were sparkling with unshed tears, “I know it’s what you remember, but how are we supposed to trust that whoever took our memories, and someone definitely took our memories, how do we know that they didn’t plant fake ones?”

“I know what I feel towards you is real, (Y/N), I just know it, right here.” He placed a hand on his solar plexus, still not breaking eye contact.

“I…” You stopped, looking at the ground then back at him. “Ok,” you said, “and if I trust this? If I trust that your memories are real, that we’re not going crazy? Then what?”

“Then…” It was his turn to trail off, raising his hand from your shoulder to your cheek, gently wiping a tear from your face with his thumb. He leaned down slightly, tilting his head to the side. Hesitantly, you stretched up to meet him halfway, your lips brushing his softly. You gave a sharp little intake of breath, and Thomas stopped, pulling away again.

“Sorry, I…” he swallowed, “I understand if you don’t want…”

You cut him off by way of kissing him, hard. Thomas gave a grunt of surprise, then wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. It was right, this was how it was supposed to be. You held in his embrace, fitted against his body like you were the last piece in a puzzle. Because you were, you were the last piece in his puzzle. 

Thomas broke away first, looking down at you still held in his arms.

“That was…” you said, looking puzzled, “That felt really familiar.”

“Do you believe me?” He asked, and you nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes, Greenie,” – he rolled his eyes at that – “yes, I think I do.”

[tpwkxxangel]

Sticky Middles pt. 2

A/N: here is the edited part 2 of sticky middles. you can read part 1 here. just a reminder that this was written a few years ago and it can be super super cringe. this was definitely interesting editing. Please let me know if you want more of this series. hope you enjoy!

word count: 4K

*18+ MINORS DNI*

[warnings: SMUT (possibly poorly written smut), cringy name calling, smidge of fluff too]

There’s this saying that my mother used to always tell me. She said, “Y/N, nothing good ever happens past 1am,” and by golly was she right. It’s currently 1:17am and I’m staring at one of THE hottest business moguls in the world who I happen to have given an impromptu lap dance.

“Hello, beautiful,” his accent graces my ears in a slow drawl, “I don’t believe we’ve met, m’Harry,” his voice is like melting honey, slow and rich with flavor.

I take this time to really take him in. I’ve only seen pictures of him a number of times in the gossip columns Carmen is in all the time. I’ve even seen him at a few business events with different models on his arm. Let me just say, the photos do not do him justice. The vibrant color of his eyes that attracted me to him in the first place tonight have hints of blue circling his irises. It’s like those swirls are dancing just for me. He’s definitely taller than I thought he would be. His chestnut brown curls lay on his forehead. A natural smirk seems to lay effortlessly on his cherry red lips.

I clear my throat as my cheeks heat up when I fully realize what I’ve done. The fact is, I’m a little too tipsy and completely heartbroken over last week’s events. There are only two ways that I can handle this situation.

1) Go back to the naive girl who’s insecure, shy and forget about the sexy Harry Styles of Styles Inc.

or

2) Be a bad bitch for the night and deal with the consequences tomorrow.

There’s an obvious answer here...

I match his smirk with one of my very own and reach out my hand. “Y/N,” as he shakes my hand, I pull him close enough to whisper in his ear. My lips ghost over his lobe and I hear his breath hitch before I continue, “or anything you’d like to call me tonight,” with a shrug of my shoulders, I leave a kiss on his cheek. I pull back slowly to see his eyes wide and his Adam’s apple bob as he takes a gulp of air. “These are my friends,” I point to each, “Rachel, Lottie, Kay, Nic, Grant and Marco.”

Harry nods at all of them, still seeming to be thrown off by my forwardness. His eyes focused on me and there was a fiery emotion behind that calm expression. Being the big shot businessman he is, I would assume he has an excellent poker face, but his eyes are what give him away. “It’s nice to meet you all,” he smiles once he pulls his eyes away from me.

“What brings you by?” Kay asks, returning his smile. I can see out of the corner of my eye that Marco and Grant are trying to hold in their laughter. I roll my eyes and ignore them.

“Well, I just wanted to come by to say how much I enjoyed the performance,” he says, loud enough to be heard over the rendition of Don’t Stop Believing. He glances over to me with a smile before adding on, “and not just the choreography. You guys sounded really amazing with that song. I feel like there’s a story behind that,” he chuckles.

“Oh yeah. Definitely a story behind-” I cut Grant off with a glare. Sure, the story is hilarious, but I know where it leads and I’m trying so desperately to forget him for tonight.

Harry gives me a confused look but doesn’t push. He is truly adorable. His cherry red lips slightly set in a pout, while his eyebrows draw towards each other. How can someone look so childish yet so manly?

“Maybe another time?” the easy smirk finding its way on my face again. “Would you like to dance with me?” I ask calmly. It’s surprising because my mind is freaking out in this alcohol coated haze. The pout on his lips is quickly replaced with a breathtaking smile.

“Absolutely,” he hums as I grab his hand and drag him away from my friends who are making embarrassing kissy faces behind my back and other childish gestures in our direction. When we get to the dance floor, normal music is blasting through the speakers. I know Danny only allowed karaoke tonight to cheer me up. He’s had a crush on me since college, but nothing was ever there other than a friendship. Harry’s hands make their way to my waist and my arms make their way around his neck.

The alcohol is really catching up to me now. The fiery liquid coursing through my veins sends my world into a spinning haze, and I love every second of it. My life has always been in focus. Never straying far from the path of success. That’s how I managed to get a bachelors in finance and a masters in business by 22. I was not the type of person to go out and party often, especially once I found Carmen. He exposed me to so many new things and I fell head over heels. Now that he flipped my whole world upside down, I deserve to have my life be a little less in focus. I’m definitely not complaining with the way Harry is looking at me.

His eyes burn into me as our bodies flow seamlessly to the music thumping around us. His heart is pounding fast against my back. I wonder if he’s nervous? Nervous where this night could go? I just need to stop thinking. Let’s turn the brain off now.

His right hand trails down my side and sends shivers through my body as he slowly turns me to face him. One of my hands makes its way through his curls slightly tugging, earning a deep rumble from his throat. His green eyes meet mine before lowering to my lips. He seems to silently be asking for permission, so I take the lead instead, crashing my lips to his. Instantly, his warm lips move against mine. Has kissing always felt this good? Maybe it’s all the alcohol talking, but he knows how to work his mouth...wonder what else it’ll be useful for.

A sweep of his tongue against my bottom lip, prompts me to grant him full access to explore my mouth. Harry wastes no time tangling his tongue with mine. His mouth tastes of tequila and something sweet. I don’t usually like tequila, but on his lips, I’d drink him in any day of the week. There’s nothing rushed about this kiss. It’s slow and drawn out like his words. His hands squeeze me in just the right places to leave me wanting more.

When he pulls away, we are both breathless, “Would you like to take this somewhere else, sweetheart?” his voice sounds smooth and pleading. Desperate for me to agree, but still giving me a choice.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I replied breathlessly. He grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the door, but I pulled back on his arm bringing him to a halt. “I’m going to tell my friends really fast so they don’t worry about me,” his confused eyes transition to comprehension.

“I’ll wait by the door,” his lips meet mine, desperate to continue where we left off, “hurry back,” he whispered softly in my ear before making his way to the entrance.

I spot my group in the same booth, “Um...I’m heading out with Harry,” I awkwardly point to the exit as they all look at me. Wow, the minute I’m away from Harry, my confidence plummets. Where did my confidence go?

I don’t get much time to overthink it because various, “YES!”, “GET THAT DICK GIRL!” and “Practice safe sex, please,” are shouted at me. I smile and shake my head at my friends. They always have my back no matter the situation.

“I’ll text you in the morning,” I tell them all before I turn around and make my way to Harry.

His face lights up when he sees me approaching before his beautiful lips lift in his signature smirk. “I thought you might have changed your mind,” there is a hint of something in his voice that I can’t quite put my finger on.

“On you? Never,” I smirk and grab his hand. We make our way to the front doors where a car is already pulling up. Getting into a black Range Rover when you’ve had a few drinks is a lot harder than you think it might be. Harry opens the door but my attempt at climbing in fails when I fall forward without really trying to get back up. I sigh, “I’m in heels and a tight dress so don’t judge me,” I breathe out. The loud chuckle from behind me causes me to giggle uncontrollably.

“What are you doing?” he laughs freely.

“Not sure,” I turn around so I’m facing him and reach my unsteady hands toward him to help me. He smiles and kisses my cheek.

Harry places his hands on my waist before looking in my eyes. “On three okay?” I nod my head, my mind a little too focused on the way his hands curve perfectly around my hips. “One, two, three!” He lifts me up to sit on the seat and stands in between my legs. “There you go, princess.”

I blush at the nickname and lean forward to connect our lips in a slow kiss. His lips are like clouds capturing my own, so soft and all consuming. With a tilt of his head, he deepens the kiss. He steps forward slightly and I feel something hard brush against my thighs. The needy ache at my core pulls a whimper past my lips and straight into Harry’s mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispers breaking the kiss. “Scoot over, baby. We can continue this somewhere more private.”

I move so Harry can sit in the car. Once he’s in, the driver takes off. It must have been awkward to just witness Harry and I making out, but I’m too engrossed with the man beside me to care much. He grabs my chin lightly and guides my lips back to his. The kiss grows feverish, very different from either of the other kisses so far tonight. This one seems to be amplified in the enclosed backseat of this car. I barely register when the car stops in front of a tall building.

Quickly, Harry throws the door open and lifts me out of the car. “Thanks, Scott!” Harry calls over his shoulder as we rush to the front doors. A very entertained doorman tips his hat to Harry and he gives a brief greeting. Harry responds, never changing pace once. When we finally make it into the elevators, he pushes me against the wall before attaching his lips to my neck.

His warm mouth leaves wet kisses down the column of my throat to my collarbone. The desperate ache at my core grows more unbearable by the second. It’s been too long since I’ve let loose and had any type of satisfaction.

Not soon enough, the elevator doors open. We pull back quickly, but the smirk on the sweet old lady’s face tells me she saw everything she needed too.

“Excuses us, Agnes,” Harry hums with a smile before leading me calmly out of the elevator and down the hall. He chuckles lightly under his breath as the doors close again with the older woman inside. When we are in the clear, he picks up the pace to the end of the hall. It doesn’t take long to get his door unlocked. We stumble in while grabbing at each other.

“Ugh,” I exhale, frustrated at the many buttons on his shirt. I pull myself away from his intoxicating lips to focus on removing his shirt. “How do you only have half the shirt buttoned yet it’s taking twice as long?”

“Well maybe you aren’t as good with your buttons as you thought?” he teases. I give him a deadpan look, which he just laughs at.

“Would you like to take off your own closes, Mr. Styles?” I go to drop my hands, but he quickly grabs my wrists.

“Nope, nope, I’m sorry,” he shakes his head, “I quite like you removing my clothes for me.”

I smirk and continue on. When I get to the last button, he shrugs the sleeves off and I’m graced with his tattooed chest. I saw the cross and the anchor at the club, but his entire left arm is covered in them! If I didn’t think he was one of the hottest men alive before, he just made the top of the list. What can I say, I’m a sucker for tattoos.

“This isn’t fair,” he playfully pouts, “I have my shirt off, now it’s your turn.”

I raise my hands for him as he pulls my dress up my body. When he gets the dress over my head his mouth falls open slightly. I’m so glad I decided to wear my red lingerie under this dress. By the way Harry’s eyes rake over every inch of my body, I know it was the right choice.

“You look stunning,” he breathes as he reconnects his lips to mine. He leads me down a short hallway to a dark room only light by the moonlight. The back of my knees hit the bed and I fall back gently. Harry’s hands squeeze my hips as he settles between them. “We really need to get you out of these,” he bites my lip at the same time he presses his pelvis against mine.

His rings lightly feather my sides as his fingers drift closer and closer to my panty line. A moan escapes my lips as he pulls down my bra cup slightly to suck on my right nipple. I wiggle in anticipation. “Slow down, baby. We’ve got all night,” he whispers against my other breast, swirling his tongue around. He leaves spongy kisses down my body until he is at the place where I crave him the most.

“Harry,” I whine desperately. His name tastes different on my lips. My head is swimming, not just from the alcohol but from lust. Pure lust for this tattooed business rival who is so close to my core that I can’t think straight. His green eyes meet mine in a darkened charge. They are beautiful and full of something I can’t describe. A hunger that hints at a beast within him. I’d gladly satiate that hunger if it meant him devouring me tonight.

“Oh, love,” his tongue darts out to swipe up my dripping heat. “You’ll be screaming my name by the time I’m done with you,” his lips attach to the front of my panties before pulling them to the side. A wave of satisfaction runs through me. This, this is exactly what I needed tonight.

He lives up to his words as his heated mouth licks and sucks at my core until the only word in my brain is his name. That familiar pressure that I have been missing for so long...way longer than a spouse should tolerate...begins to bubble in my belly. My fingers make their way to his curls as he pushes me over the edge.

“I-I’m gonna--” I cut myself off with a whine of pleasure. Harry continues to draw delicious shapes on me with his tongue until I’m trembling with aftershocks. Only then does he kiss his way up my body while I come back to reality. As his warm lips meet mine, I can taste my arousal on his tongue. Normally that would gross me out, but just like the tequila, the taste on his lips is intoxicating.

My eyes fall shut as a content smile falls on my lips. “How was that, love?” his honey voice whispers in my ear. I hum in appreciation while he just chuckles at my state of bliss. We stay there for a few more moments before Harry shifts. A very, very hard part of him seems to settle in between my legs.

That’s all the motivation I need to be back in the moment. I shift swiftly on top of him and he lands on his back with a huff. Instead of smirking, I smile at him. The first real smile on my face in a long time. His hands rest on my thighs, moving up and down longingly.

“What’s on y’mind?” he smiles back curiously. The way his hair fans his head makes him look like a prince.

This feeling is strange. From my past encounters, there has been this cloud of expectation in the back of my mind. If I get off, then they will get off too, but with Harry it doesn’t seem like that. His eyes are sparkling up at me as if he is perfectly content to end the night here. It’s very refreshing. I guess that was why I felt so comfortable admitting what was on my mind. 

I shrug with a dopey smile pulling at my lips. “I want you in my mouth.” My blunt thought received the proper reaction when his hips bucked up to meet mine, but it wasn’t enough for me. I reach back behind me and unhook my bra.

He moans when he sees me in full view. “Please, I’m all yours tonight,” he says as if in afterthought.

I can’t help the rush of pleasure when his eyes appreciatively look me over. It’s been too long since I was truly looked at and I can see from the sparkle in his eye that he is fully appreciating every curve I have. He tugs me down to meet his lips. They taste sweeter than anything I have ever tasted. It was so hard to pull away from his intoxicating lips, but I knew my end goal. I needed to get his pants off.

I trail my lips down slowly. I carefully kiss his collarbone down to his nipples. I give them both a swirl of the tongue before stopping. I pop back up to his eye level with an amused expression.

“You have four nipples?” a surprised giggle spills out of my mouth. This was totally not the time to be making teasing remarks, but this quirk was utterly adorable.

A faint blush coats his cheeks, “Uh..”

Another giggle bursts from my throat, “Ignore that,” I return my kissing trail down his gorgeous body, “it’s adorable though.”

A surprised giggle erupts from him before a moan takes its place. I finally reach his waistband and slowly push them down until he is left in just his boxers. I knew by the feel of him that he was big, and looking at the lump in his boxers just confirms my suspicions. My hands move faster as I tug the waistband down. His cock springs out, thick and wanting. My mouth waters at the sight.

A small moan leaves his lips as I wrap my fingers around him. Harry sits up slightly on his elbows so he can make eye contact with me. My eyes drift back to his heavy cock in my hand. The gentle redness to the tip and the small drops of precum are the only indication of how needy he is for some relief. I take his tip in my mouth and swirl my tongue around. The velvet softness is perfect in my mouth. I take a little bit more of him with every stroke of my hand.

“Y/N, I–” Harry moans when I take him as deep as I can. I do that a few times before he tenses up, “Wait, wait wait,” he chokes out.

I meet his eyes and can see the slight panic. I remove my lips and watch him squeeze his eyes shut before humming what sounds like ‘God Save the Queen’. I smirk knowing fully well what was about to happen.

“Sorry, just really wanna feel you,” Harry sighs after a few more seconds. I don’t mind whatsoever. I kiss my way back up his torso. When I get to his lips, he flips us quickly taking over. Now on my back, he grabs a condom from the nightstand and slips it on before lining up.

“Oh God–,” my flutter shut as he entered me. He pushes in slowly making sure I feel every inch of him. When he bottoms out, he releases a heated breath in the curve of my neck. It takes me a minute to adjust but when I do, my body sings with energy.

After I give him the go ahead, he picks up a steady pace that brings the buzzing in my body to an all time high. I meet him thrust for thrust, arching my back when he hits that special spot.

“H,” I moan as he places a hand under the small of my back, forcing the arch of my back to remain. His warm lips kiss my chest, leaving bruising kisses that will definitely be there tomorrow morning.

This was not my plan for the night. I was totally content in partying the night away, but those mesmerizing green eyes that looked back at me with such intensity gave me no choice. There was no other outcome than letting him consume me tonight.

“I’m close, but I need you to cum one more time on my cock, Y/N,” he says as his hand travels between us to circle my clit in the same delicious pattern his tongue did earlier. His lips meet mine again as the ball of energy buzzing inside me bursts throughout my entire body.

My ears ring as I start to come back down. I can feel Harry tense up on top of me before letting out moans mixed with my name. After a few moments of catching our breath, he slowly pulls out. I cringe at the sensitivity.

“I know, love,” he coos, “I’ll be right back.”

He rises from the bed and I can’t help but admire his naked form as he walks to the in suite bathroom.

I thought I’d feel nasty or repulsed being with anyone for just a night, but I feel perfectly content. It’s weird. I came to New York a week ago to just detox with my friends after finding Carmen with another woman. That pain, it’s immeasurable. Being in that club tonight, I felt something click into place.

There’s this darkness that’s inside me that has made it hard to wake up sometimes, and I fear that it’s been there longer than I’ve been in New York. It sat dormant for years and I’ve never paid attention to it. When I looked into Harry’s green eyes, I saw the same kind of loneliness that’s inside me, desperately trying to find a way to the light but never getting anywhere. Something in Harry is pulling me towards him. Who knows though, it’s probably the alcohol talking.

The sound of the bathroom door opening causes my eyes to flutter open in that direction. Harry walks over with a warm washcloth and smiles sheepishly. I smile giving him permission to clean me up. After he finishes, he comes back to the bed. “Why don’t we just lay here a little while?”

Something in his tone told me not to question it. My mind was too out of it to think about leaving his warm bed. He lets out a sigh as I turn over and nuzzle my head into his neck. This is oddly comforting. His scent fills my nostrils and my mind relaxes. Soft strokes on my arm lull me to a dreamland full of rivers of warm honey.

I’m not sure, but I could have sworn my body was trying to tell me something at that moment. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the wheels were starting to turn, trying to think of what was really going on. There’s always the morning...

[jabs5299]

Eye of the Storm Part 3

I’m sick, don’t judge me if its cringy 😭

Part 1

Part 2

“How was work?” Pat questioned as you walked through the door, firmly shutting it once you’d fully entered the hallway.

“It was good, they played the fun station today,” You gave a vague answer. Nothing grand happened and the whole time you were thinking about Pat. The time passed shorter than usual due to your eagerness to leave.

Without a word, Pat wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pressed his nose into your hair. He loved the way you smelled and, although he was unaware that you caught on to this habit of his, you loved the way he expressed his mutual clinginess so subtly.

“Dion asked about Mark today,” Oooh that was a tough one, you internally cringed. Pat was very hesitant talking about anything including Mark, most of what you knew was from the internet or having talked to the man in Iceland. “It was bound to happen, he just doesn’t know anything that happened.”

“Did you tell Nic?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, she got upset when I suggested he needed to know,” It was always tough for Pat to be assertive, so you knew this was something he really believed would be better for Dion if he was so adamant about it.

“She probably didn’t mean to get upset,” you rationed, hoping it would take away the guilt Pat was feeling. “It's a sensitive topic for both of you and she’s trying to do what she hopes is best.”

When Pat pulled away slightly, you looked up at him with your arms still wrapped around his waist. He seemed soothed by your words.

“What did I do to deserve you,” he mumbled, moving his hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. You smiled when he glanced at your lips, accepting the short and sweet peck he placed.

An hour later, you found yourself once again cuddling with Pat while a movie played on the tv in front of you.

“Oh, the fingerprint! It’s registered to ‘Nikolai Ondrejko’. Fun little easter egg, that’s the same name The Joker uses to fake an obituary for the Mayor in The Dark Knight,” Pat rambled on, unconsciously pressing his hand in the space between your shoulders. You always liked that when he got excited about something he would close his hands without realizing.

“I get why Cat women used Nikolai as a coverup, but I’m not sure why The Joker used him as an author. Mans has three charges of breaking and entering, and six tickets for speeding,” you added on, catching the list during its brief time on screen.

“Sounds like an Author to me,” Pat laughed at his own joke.

“Mm maybe,” you smiled, captivated by the way Pat’s eyes closed slightly when he laughed. You could see it a thousand times and still want to see it again. “I love you,” you said out of the blue after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

Pat’s attention immediately shot to you, staring at you and stuttering.

“I love you too,” He kissed your forehead, his tone reassuring you that- even though you’d only been dating a few months -he truly meant the words just as much as you did.

Your heart fluttered as you went back to laying your head on his chest, the warmth of his body fighting off the usual coldness you felt. Pat ran his fingers through your hair, both of you smiling widely without the other one knowing.

This was paradise.

[bratano]

A View to a Kill - Cillian Murphy x Fem!Reader

Author’s note: Hey hey people! First off I wanna say I’m always quite nervous writing for real people as opposed to characters as I don’t want to disrespect anybody (or make it too unrealistic) so I did my best to make Cillian as accurate to who he is as possible (not that any of us truly know him but y’know- fantasy). Also I have never seen a Bond movie in my life shameful for a Film student I know so I hope my lack of knowledge didn’t prevent this from being accurate. Also Christopher Nolan is directing the next James Bond in this universe because plot lol. this is not very good I'm so sorry I tried

Word Count: 1452

CW: Drinking, cringy dialogue lol

Going to a premiere with your new coworker, Cillian, ends up with some drunken feelings exchanged between you two.

You were extremely nervous as the limo approached the theater, looking in your phone camera to check your hair. Your big break had finally come in the form of being a Bond girl in Christopher Nolan’s adaptation of 007, which is definitely no small feat. Nor did it feel like it, considering you were working 12 hour days in heels and doing all your own stunts for 3 months. Not to sound ungrateful, but it was just so much more work than you could’ve anticipated. But what really made it all worth it was Mr. Bond himself.

You were really nervous at first to work with Cillian. He was a world renowned actor, one of Nolan’s recurring actors, and not to mention, very handsome. You never wanted to admit it to yourself, but you had quite the crush on him. For a man much older than you, he still held a boyish charm and wit to him that seemed so distant from a lot of the suitors your age. But it was nothing but an innocent crush, and he really was a close friend to you after all.

Cillian was beside you, mingling with the rest of the cast while you sat there silently, stewing in the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Cillian gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Nervous?” He asked, eyeing the shaking of your foot and the compulsive tucking of your hair.

You sighed. “I’ve never done anything like this before, I just don’t really know what to expect.”

Cillian chuckled. Not of rudeness, but at his own ridiculous question. Duh. Of course she’s nervous. “Understandable. Well, you have the first step down. You look gorgeous.” You felt your ears burn at his compliment and smiled. “Just follow my lead, and act confident. All you have to do is pose for some photos and do interviews, you can do this.” He gently put his hand over yours and squeezed it in reassurance. You took a deep breath as he grinned at you. With him by your side, you knew you could do anything you set your mind to.

After what seemed like hours of going between getting your photo taken and interviews, you felt like you could really get the hang of this whole fame thing. It was amazing to see fans screaming your name, paparazzi taking your photo… Not to sound egotistical, but it truly felt like that’s what you were supposed to be doing with your life. It definitely helped having Cillian there to look to when you were nervous and to take some photos with. Eventually though it came time to watch the movie, and you transitioned from the bright camera flashes to the dark intimacy of the theater.

You had to admit it was a surreal experience seeing yourself on screen. Part of you was definitely embarrassed, but you felt a great sense of pride seeing yourself in such a badass light. And your chemistry with Cillian was impressive. During scenes with the two of you in it, you could feel Cillian sat beside you, looking at you for your reaction. He envied you in a way. Nothing could compare to the first time seeing yourself up on the big screen. But at the same time he couldn’t believe how amazing you looked and how powerful of a performance you gave. Out of all the women he’d worked alongside, you held a certain spark that he knew would send you far.

After the movie, you and the rest of the cast attended an afterparty together at a bar close by. You couldn’t tell if it was the pressure of the night finally being lifted from your shoulders or the fact that you wanted to outshine Cillian’s Irish tolerance, but you were trying to get as drunk as possible. You lost count of how many shots of tequila you downed, Cillian watching you in shock as he took several shots himself. By the time your castmates were ready to continue your bar hopping, you could hardly stand. Cillian opted into being your very unstable column to keep you upright, although he was stumbling himself. You both made it out of the bar with the rest of your coworkers, laughing and hollering drunkenly. Paparazzi was swarming the outside, taking pictures of all of you in your very inebriated states.

A reporter ran out from behind all the people and cornered you and Cillian. In normal circumstances, you both would’ve just kept walking, but neither of you were really feeling like yourselves from the alcohol now running through your veins. She shoved the microphone in between the three of you, whipping out a notepad of what you assumed to be questions.

“Congratulations on the movie you two, how was the premiere?”

Cillian, being a rather outgoing drunk, immediately answered. “It was fantastic, it was amazing to see so much hard work finally come to fruition on screen like that. And it was especially amazing to see Y/N film debut, she’s incredibly talented.”

You slapped his arm playfully. “Excuse me Mr. Bond? Don’t be so modest, Jesus.” You all laughed. “The premiere was a dream come true, but it would’ve been nothing without Cill. His performance was Oscar-worthy, and he was just a thrill to work with.”

Cillian laughed again, his already red cheeks deepening. He always loved it when you called him that nickname. “She’s just saying that because she has to.”

The reporter chuckled a bit. “It seems as though you guys have a lot of chemistry on and off set, do you think you will work together again?”

You and Cillian both went to talk, interrupting each other and earning a choir of giggles from the two of you. “Obviously we don’t have too much chemistry with the way that just went.” You joked.

“Don’t say that, don’t say that.” Cillian said, laughing. “It would be an honor to work with Y/N again. I think she’s one of the most brilliant up and coming actors of our time. Honestly I was really sad when we wrapped up shooting, because it meant I wouldn’t get to see her everyday like I was used to.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, squeezing you to his side.

Normally you would be extremely flustered being that close to him, but your swirling brain kept you from registering the intimacy of his touch. Instead, your head laid on his chest and you leaned into him for more support. ”Yeah, that last day of shooting was really difficult. I remember- and I know he’ll never admit this- but when we finished that last scene we did a group hug and Cillian cried because he said he’d miss me. We just became so close it was hard not to be emotional.”

“Aww! Is that true, Cillian?” The reporter asked, turning the microphone over to him.

“All lies. Everything this woman tells is a lie.” He joked, a smirk crossing his lips.

“Not true!” You squealed, hitting him again in the arm.

“And she’s violent too. Twice she’s hit me just while you’re standing here. So unprofessional.” Him and the reporter laughed, but even in your drunken state you felt pretty embarrassed. He could tell by the look on your face he took it too far, and tried to think of a way to ease the blow.

“We actually have to go now, thank you for the interview.” Cillian abruptly said, pulling you away from her and the crowds of photographers. You piled back into the limo amongst your now angry castmates who had been waiting on you.

“You’re not mad, are you…?” Cillian asked softly, his cocky attitude now dwindling from his sobering and finally being out of the spotlight for the night.

“Of course I’m not mad at you Cill, I’m not as sensitive as you. Crybaby.” You smirked at him.

“Yeah, right. That’s why you were pouting like a child after I called you a liar.”

“I was not pouting!”

His bottom lip curled and his brows furrowed. “I was not pouting!” He mocked.

You scoffed, crossing your arms and turning away from him. Then you felt his lips gently graze your cheek and turned to face him again.

“I meant everything I said, y’know. About you being amazing.” He smiled.

You looked down, a bit embarrassed. “I know. And I meant it when I said I expect you to be on the Oscar ballots this year.”

“We’ll see.” He winked at you. You both settled into the limo, trying to gather your thoughts and sober up a bit.

You smiled to yourself, marveling in how amazing your life had become. Finally the limo took off and you were on your way to another bar, and hopefully more drinks.

[cornacopicimagines]

after hours│t.h

pairing: professor!tom holland x reader 

words: 6.9k (hehe nice)

warnings: swearing, PURE FILTH, sir kink, rough sex, masturbation (male & female), exhibition kink if you squint, spanking & sort of public sex.

summary:  It's wrong, y/n tells herself. She can't help it though. She can't help fantasising about him. At the other end of the class, Tom tells himself to stop staring at her. It's creepy, he thinks. Neither one knows of the mutual pining that is until tension bubbles over. 

a/n: I’m back bitches! I'm still a fucking sinner and this is such a cliche, I'm so so sorry

masterlist

━━★✼☆｡

y/n sat at the desk. Her eyes never left Mr. Holland. Her attention never left the way the veins in his arms bulged when he picked up the massive textbook, never left his perfectly gelled hair and how it sat atop his head like it was crafted to from the day he was born. Perhaps I should start typing the notes that were on the board, she scowled to herself.

She feels dirty, almost ashamed of her crush on him. She hates herself for falling into a stupid cliché that had been so easy to avoid all these tireless years. y/n doesn't know why she has gone back to a love-sick teenage girl fantasising about a boy who she'll never even get to touch. A boy that so out of her league, he wouldn't even had the faintest idea that she exists. That doesn't stop them though. y/n still finger fucks herself to an orgasm that no boy has been able to give her in her 24 years of life, all the while wishing it was his cock instead of her fingers. If Mr. Holland knew what she did to herself under the influence of him and his stupidly handsome face, he would be disgusted. This she knows for a fact.

This isn't what she thought she would be doing, in all honesty. She is a semester away from graduating and she never wanted to be stuck in a perpetual state of wanting someone so unattainable it's not uneasy, it's borderline unethical. She truly believed she would have ancient married professor that sound like their legs deep in their coffin. Instead she got a literal Greek God as her Psych professor.

She knows that she's not the only one of course. y/n has met 10 other girls in her class that probably write god awful poetry about Mr. Holland's liquid bronze eyes. She can't blame them, if she could write shitty poetry about him, she 100% would. y/n not angry either, she knows out of the 120 students (110 of whom are girls), are probably all in the same predicament. She sometimes gets dirty looks from them when Mr. Holland address her by her first name.

Perhaps that's something she should consider; he calls her y/n not Miss y/l/n or just simply Miss. It's different, it's endearing and when he has a raspy voice, it's so fucking hot.

"y/n," a voice called out, she shook herself out of her haze, "are you still with us?" Mr. Holland was no standing over her. His cologne surrounding her, intoxicating her. y/n gulped softly before turning her eyes to his.

"Yes, sorry sir," y/n replied quickly, trying her hardest not to stumble over her own words or even let the blush run to her cheeks.

Mr. Holland smiled warmly, "that's good, I need at least one of you listening," the class erupting in laughter, "I would prefer it to be one of the brightest." That though got them quiet. y/n sunk into her chair in embarrassment. The blush she had been fighting rose to the surface, making her even more adamant not to look up at him but alas she couldn't.

In that small fleeting moment, she caught something in his eyes. She couldn't define exactly what it was. Whatever it truly was, y/n knew teachers should not be looking at their students in such a way. It made her even more lightheaded with admiration.

The lesson continued on as normal for another hour. Mr. Holland described the outline for the next assignment, it seemed short and sweet. Write a 2-thousand-word essay on the effects of unintentional recreational drugs during early childhood. y/n had to laugh at the way Mr. Holland phrased it. It was as if he had never touch pot in his entire life, to be fair, y/n wouldn't be too surprised if he didn't. Most of the girls in his class groaned at the mere mention of actual work and not an hour and a half session of pure toe-curling orgasm material. Now that she thinks about it, that would be a wonderful way to spend her Wednesday mornings and Thursday afternoons.

Of course, y/n was in another word during the last minutes of the lesson. Unable to focus on anything other than the hint of a tattoo peeking through the underlining of his shirt. She was working so hard to distinguish what it was that she had completely missed the end of the lesson and the dozens of people walking out.

"y/n, what exactly are you doing?" Mr. Holland's voice asked above her. y/n almost jumped in her seat, but she stayed completely still. "This is the second time today, should I be worried?"

This though made her jump out of her seat. "No of course not sir!" She defended as she rushed to place her things away. "I was just off in wonderland today."

"Are you sure there is nothing distracting you?" He asked.

Yes.

"No," she replied hurriedly.

"You know you can tell me if something is," he reassured her.

Yes, of course. Let me just tell you about how you are distracting me by always wearing the hottest casual suits every lesson and giving me the wonderful fantasy of tearing it off you.

"I know that, it's just been my busy schedule," y/n lied through her teeth. She's a broke college student with hardly any friends or real other assignments. "I am just working really hard, you know?"

Yeah, working really hard to imagine you pounding me into next week!

With that last thought, y/n knew she needed to leave before she exploded with embarrassment and arousal right there in front of him.

"I just wanted to let you know that you are totally allowed to change the topic of the assignment if you feel like there is something that strikes a chord with you," Mr. Holland smiled brightly.

Fuck! Did he have to look so gorgeous even when he's trying to be dorky and supportive.

Mr. Holland noticed the shocked look upon y/n's face and immediately retracted his statement, "I promise I won't fail you, if that's what your thinking." He explained. "I really enjoy your work, you're a gifted woman with a real talent and I don't want to see it go to waste with my shitty assignment."

y/n turned her attitude around. He was stumbling over his words. It was kind of cute and endearing, like everything he does. She smiled warmly at his compliment.

"Sir," she spoke softly. It came out a lot mouseyer and somehow sexual than she would have liked but she refused to back out of her statement. "I can't wait."

She didn't say another word but simply slung her back over her shoulder and made her way out of the class. Tom followed her figure in complete and utter shock. He praised whatever god watched over him for the small mercy that was having y/n's back turned to him to witness his immediate blush cover his entire freckled face.

Tom never let his eyes leave her. He just watched her waltz right out of his classroom, he bit his lip at the sight of her perfectly cupped ass in her jeans. Through-out the entire lesson, all he could think about is how her tits would bounce as his dick thrusted up into her little cunt. Just the thought made his cock spring to life.

He stared up at the clock. He had to be in another lecture in 10 minutes, he had to teach another round of student without her pretty face in it in 10 bloody minutes. Sadly, it wasn't enough time to imagine cumming over her said face. He fidgeted until his painful erection was safely hidden.

God, you are such a fucking creep, Holland. He thought to himself.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n really didn't want to be doing this.

She really didn't want to have to walk to the library in a mini skirt she had when she went through her cringy hoe phase and a low-cut tank top she only really wore to bed at 8 at night. Luckily before she left, her roommate gave her a full can of pepper spray and a pocketknife. A handle tool for when you looked like a prostitute.

She had no choice. It was laundry night and she had to get her assignment out of the way, or she would never finish it in time. She wanted to kick herself for letting laundry night fall on the only night the library stayed open until midnight. It was a perk for sure but not when you had nothing to wear but pink neon rags.

y/n pushed open the library door and relieved herself of the anxiety of being abducted by the greeting of Harry. He looked familiar but she couldn't pinpoint where she had seen his face before.

"What cha doing here?" he shouted. Quite contradictory for a librarian. y/n grinned when she saw his dorky face at the counter. That is until he caught wind of her outfit, or lack thereof. "Got a late shift at the strip-club after this?" Her face fell.

"I hate you," she played along, her arms slumping on the cold desk. y/n looked around the library. It was basically empty, with the exception of the middle-aged teacher grading a stack full of papers. Poor bastard, y/n thought. "Got one for me?"

"You're going to get me fired if I do this again," Harry huffed, he banged his head against the keyboard in frustration.

"This is the last time," y/n explained, "I pinkie promise." She lifted her hand over the counter and waved her pinkie finger in Harry's face. He stared up her than move his eyeline to her finger now just touching the tip of his nose. He groaned loudly as he took her finger in his.

"There is a ton of empty booths, choose one and don't make a sound," Harry told her angrily, y/n simply clapped her hands in celebration and skipped off. She chooses the booth in range of Harry, in hopes that maybe he will distracted her and she won't have to do her work because she's too busy goofing off.

y/n dropped her stuff in a huff. Her back slumped into the curve of the chair and the desk covered her body happily. She placed her earphones in and played her favourite study music. She was in absolute heaven.

The assignment was kicking her ass, but she was determined to do it. Mr. Holland seemed genuinely excited for what she would write about if she did decide to change the topic. Now though she's regretting not letting Mr. Holland's hopes down.

She could find hardly anything online and even if she did it was by some random SJW on Tumblr. That's what lead her here tonight. In hopes that maybe some privileged white asshole with a degree would have some sources sighted to help her. Unfortunately, she was having trouble with that too.

It was now 11:30pm. She had been at this god forsaken table for two and a half hours now in an endless pursuit of bullshit. y/n had half a mind to give up and just suck his dick for the grade like other girls would in this situation. y/n had to remind herself though, she is a gifted woman with a real talent that should not be wasted on something shitty to please the masses. Did she just quote Mr. Holland?

She caught eyes with Harry in her block, who had two pencils stuck up his nose in an attempt to cheer her up. It did for the most part. y/n wanted to play along but it had seemed someone else had walked through the door at that very moment and Harry threw the pencils out. Harry's face lit up with red upon the arrival of this mystery person. y/n was interested in who this mystery person was. That is until she saw his face.

Mr. Holland walked up to the library desk in a fit of laughter. His hands smacking the counter and his face contorted in a wide smile. y/n instantly ducked under the table. She could faintly hear their conversation. It just sounded like muffled words until her name popped up.

Jesus Christ. Not now. Not tonight. Why of all night to run into his must it have to be tonight. Maybe I should make a run for it now, bust out of the wind-

"I know you're under there y/n," Mr. Holland's voice sung above her. It was too late now. Any escape plan that her mind frantically tried to rationalise was long gone by this point. Slowly, y/n retreated from her hiding spot to face him. He had his normal outfit of a tight t-shirt paired with a decorative tie and slightly lose pants. This time though he had a long burgundy coat draped over his shoulders. He looked like a painting. y/n smiled sheepishly.

"Hi," she said simply. Regaining her seat from before and fully appearing in front of him. "I had no idea you would be here this late," she tried with conversation.

"Harry's my brother, I have to drive him home before leaving myself and he just wanted to work the late shift tonight," Tom laughed to himself and he turned around and waved at Harry. His brother waved back guiltily. "You know, I could say this same to you," he smirked at her.

"I am working on your assignment, sir," y/n responded quietly. Tom's eyes lit up at that and he rushed to snatch the papers off her desk and into his hands. Much to the disapproval of y/n.

"Oh good, you've decided to change it," Tom sounded almost relieved as if he trusted her judgement more than his own. Worse of it all, he decided to sit down next to her. Even taking off his coat, making his biceps bulge through his shirt. His eyes flicked through what she currently has. His eyebrows raised in shock, "I have to say, I was not expected you to decide to do something about the female orgasm and its effect on the psyche," his voice was an octave deeper than usual. y/n could feel her arousal building.

y/n couldn't decide if he was just being friendly or if he was trying to send a deeper message. Either way, she decided to take action. "Well, with the number of women being unsatisfied I thought it was an appropriate topic," she snatched the papers out of his hands, "but you wouldn't know anything about women being unsatisfied would you sir?"

Tom sat there in astonishment. His cock stiffened against the restraints of his jeans, he has only been in her vicinity for 5 minutes and already she has him hard as a rock. It was times like these that he wished he could just leave all his determination to fuck her over this very desk at the door. Regrettably, he couldn't.

"Well, that just ruins the surprise," y/n sighed delicately. Her fingers flicking through the pages of her useless book. "Either way, the resources are complete shit," this time her sadness was real, and Tom snapped out of his lust-ridden haze.

"Did you really expect a man to know mostly everything of something that is so cardinally female?" Tom smirked as he closed the book on her and pointed to the photo of a wrinkled old man. He was the author of a stupid book and to be fair, he looked like he would write this type of book as well.

"Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong," y/n hissed. She had been spending her entire night trying to piece together information from a man who can only give her half the story.

"The book on the top shelf is one on the chemical effects of orgasming in females by a female," Tom leaned in and whispered in her ear. His hot breath wafted of her skin; it was enough to send goose bumps over her entire body. y/n turned her head to face him, their lips inches away from each other. If they didn't have Harry watching them like a hawk, they probably would be out of breath from lip-locking. Instead, y/n nodded and got up out of her seat, making sure to give him a stunning view of her tits through her tank top. He wanted to audibly gasp but kept in inside. It didn't help with his situation downstairs any more than the last few minutes have.

Slowly, she walked over to the bookcase. Her eyes scanning the endless rows and she made sure Tom had enough time to enjoy the deep red thong underneath her skirt. Finally, her fingers coiled around the book and brought it down to her. Tom couldn't believe his own eyes. He was so under her spell. The way her top hugged her curved and let his eyes completely drink in her breasts. How her skirt was pulled up to her waist, allowing the flushed skin of her ass to be visible to him. He wonders how a woman like her even exists and yet she takes a seat next to him, absolutely unaware of his throbbing manhood. Begging to be touched by her, to be taken by her, by anything to do with her.

"Thank you, sir," she almost purrs to him, Tom's struggling to keep it together. He afraid the next thing to slip out of her flawless mouth, he'll cum straight into his pants when he would rather cum into her.

"Anytime," he responds just a dark before getting up. Hiding his clearly hard cock behind his briefcase. "I'll see you in class?" He already knows the answer, but he just wants the last bit of assurance from her.

"Of course," she smiled warmly. With that Tom basically books it, he's frantically making sure he's well-hidden as he quickly bends over the counter.

"I'll come back to pick you up in 30, I forgot some paper work back in my office," it's so fast, Harry almost doesn't have time to translate it before Tom's out the door and rushing down the hall.

At one point, he basically running to get to his office. Feet tapping against the concrete as he continues to see nothing but flashing images of y/n. It blurs his vision and he's so desperate. He considers using a spare supply closet but know he will only get complete privacy in his own office.

He finally gets there, after what seems like an eternity of running. He checks the hallways before entering. He drops all of his things at the foot of the door. He even has the decency to hang his coat upon the rack. Tom slowly walks over to his chair. It's a rough leather material and usually he would refuse to do what he's about to do in here, it will be stained with the memory but at this point. He got no fucks left to give.

He crashes down. His back hitting the material he hates so much. He doesn't think he's got time, but he still does it slowly. His belt drops next to his and he undoes the zip slowly and the cold air hits his dick. He hisses at the feeling but proceeds anyways. Tom pulls the rest of his jeans and boxers down his legs and kicks them across the room. His hand takes his dick, slowly rubbing the head. Imaging y/n's fingers dancing over it, spreading the precum over. He uses his palm to envision her own stroking up and down in an even motion. He can't help but moan. He can't help but softly call out her name.

He so entranced that he doesn't recognize the following light footsteps approaching. He's so into her non-existent touch that he doesn't hear the door peacefully squeak open. He's so in love with the feeling he doesn't feel y/n walk around the room to get on her knees in front of him.

She's in glory of his movements. Watching him stroke his much bigger cock than her masturbation version has her in a hurry to get her own panties off her body and across the floor. She's sure she's dripping onto the wood below but she does have single care in the world. Tom has his head thrown back in ecstasy as his hand starts to speed up, that's when y/n decides to go for the kill. She licks a long strip up his shaft. Her hands stabilizing him by placing them atop his bare thighs.

Tom almost jumps out of his chair. He had no idea she caught him in the middle of something so vile and wrong. Better yet, she had caught him with the tip of his dick around her perfectly glossed lips. He doesn't get to say another word before y/n's hands begin massaging the bottom of his manhood. It's slow to begin with, it's almost if she's easing him into it. Her cheeks hollow out to allow his length into her warm mouth. It's incredible. Tom can't help but buck his hips up into her throat causing her to gag slightly. It's a sound he wants more of.

His hands ball her hair into his fist. With the faster her movements become, the harder he fucks into her mouth. They sync up almost instantly. One of y/n's hands leave his cock to fuck herself. Tom's mesmerised by the way her fingers act as a replacement for his dick. He's certain he's not going to last much longer.

"I should be d-doing that," he whispers through grunts. y/n lifts her head to smile at him, still letting her free hand jerk and pull bringing him closer the edge.

"I know," she responds, just as quiet. Her mouth reconnects but Tom quickly snaps his hips up into her. Her muffled moaning vibrated against his cock as he fucks her mouth. It's the hottest thing he's ever done. He tugs and pulls at her hair, y/n's edging him on. She's exquisite, it's like she's mastered this and has allowed him to chance to feel how fucking beautiful her little mouth can be.

Like it's effortless, he comes. Without any warning, he is shooting hot stream of cum into her mouth, filling it up. Tom swears he's seeing stars but can't bring him to call out her name but instead bites down on his hand so hard he's afraid he's drawn blood.

y/n releases him from her mouth and is from an actual porn Tom spent his teenage years watching, his cum leaks from her lips and falls down on the curves of her tits. It's a sight he was to remember forever. He wants to grab his phone and click so he will get to look at her covered in his cum for the rest of his life but alas, he's still regaining his bearings.

"Tastes better than I would have expected," y/n giggles as she brings the liquid back up to her lips and swallows. There is no way this woman gets better; he thinks to himself.

"Sweetheart-," he begins but she beats him to it, her gets back on her feet and plants a sweet kiss upon his lips. He can taste himself on her lips, it's addictive.

"I wanted this," it's almost as if she read his mind. He doesn't respond but he simply looks at her, his hand coming up to twirl a strand of hair that has fallen in front of her face.

y/n pulls away from him, walking over the pile of discarded clothes and bend to pick up her soaked underwear. She gives Tom a look, he's so close he can smell her juices from his seat. Her pussy look like a paradise waiting to be exploded by him, but he keeps his hands to himself. y/n paced herself over to the coat hanger, her folded panties in hand. She places them in the left pocket with a devilish smile upon her face. Tom had now place their rest of his clothes back on and had joined her.

"I'll get them back next lesson," y/n grins. Tom nods quickly, their feet fumbling under her back hits his office door. She's trapped in between him, he smells of pure sex but she's committed to her idea. He bends down to capture her lips in his with a forceful kiss. It's hungry and needy. She wants it so badly to give but she pulls away. "My roommate is waiting for me outside."

"We'll finish this," Tom whispers as he opens the door for her. It sends shivers down y/n's spine. It's not a promise, it's an order.

She grabs the rest of her things and heads off. Almost in a sick turn of events, Tom watches her bare ass strut away from him. Just like the last lesson, except this time all he can do is imagine him face fucking her. It's a beautiful sight.

━━★✼☆｡

The three days leading up to class where probably the slowest 72 hours both of them had ever experienced. A constant detail of pleasure from the night before. So when the fated day arrived, both parties didn't know what to do. Tom debated just staying home, though he couldn't deny he so desperately want just another taste. He thought, if he didn't show up, all his guilty conscience of a student giving him the best head he's ever had in his life would simply disappear and he would go back to being a normal teacher. y/n, too, thought of skipping this class for a completely different reason. Perhaps she had got a surge of confidence after hearing her professor call out her name while he touched himself or it could just be the pure scandalous nature of it all. Either way, she wanted to stay cooped up with a blanket while she watched him unravelled. No matter the psyche from the both of them, they went.

y/n stood outside the classroom for a good 20 minutes, unsure of what she should do. Should she go in now and fuck him in the small window or wait and play with his emotions? She hadn't realised how fast the time had went until she saw other student's start entering. It was now or never and unfortunately it was going to be now.

The room was smaller than y/n remember when she stepped in. It seemed more wide the last time she came in here. Of course, the last time she came in her, she hadn't sucked Mr. Holland's cock.

Her eyes landed on him in a matter of seconds. His back was turned to her as he wrote on the massive blackboard in front of him. y/n could see his muscles flex as he tried to reach for the duster above the board. She bit her lip as she thought of her nails digging into his back as he fucked her. It was a fantasy she had to push to the side.

Tom could practically smell her once she walked in. It was her normal perfume that had been intensified 10 fold. He refuses to turn around, afraid that if he did all his good heart nature would go out the window. Tom could hear the faint clinking of the heels of her shoes walk up the stairs. He so desperately wanted them to come right back down.

"Okay, as you know, you're assignment is due in 2 weeks and this is going to be the only time I will answer your questions," Tom's voice boomed. He hadn't got a lot of sleep since that night and he didn't particularly want to do this but he considered himself a kind professor, so he had too.

He turned around and saw the entire class' hands go straight up in the air. Including y/n, though hers was a little lower. Her eyebrow raised and a small smirk painted on her lips. There was no way in hell he was answer whatever question came out of those pretty lips. She looked even more exquisite than when he last saw her. A tight t-shit that had a stained 50's logo on it and a pair of tight black jeans, he knew as soon as he spoke to her, he would loose all control on himself.

So he never did, constantly dodging her. Answering every single question, even if half of them were if he was married or worse if he was free Friday night. He will admit, seeing y/n get frustrated every time he passed her to talk to another young female student made him just that tad bit excited.

It was an hour and a half of pure tension. Sure, no one else in the class could feel it but they 100% could. She never felt more out of control and for some reason, she despised it. He kept ignoring her, kept refusing her, kept defying her. It was infuriating, that she wanted to take fate by the hair.

She waited, until every single soul had walked out of the door. She waited until the last gaggle of girls had finished their blabbering to Tom before she starting to strut down the stairs. Tom refused to meet her eyes even when he knew that's all she did. Glare at him as she stomped past him desk to the classroom door. He heard it lock.

"I wanted to ask you a question," she almost spat, "sir."

Tom straightened himself before swivelled around to meet her. She was so livid with him but he knew deep down that all she wanted from him was to have the white chalk from the board rubbed up her back from him pinning her down.

"Fire away," he responded exactly the same. She stared at him for a moment before strolling towards him. She made sure to swing her hips every other time. She noticed his eyes on her, finally she was getting somewhere.

y/n pressed her chest upon his heaving one. Her face lifting to meet his. They stayed like that for a good minute, just pondering. They listened to each other's heats thumping against their rib cages. They both desperately needed this.

Never taking her eyes off him, y/n snaked her hand around the side of pocket of her coat, smiling once she found what she left. Her soaked red thong, it was a sight for sore eyes.

"I wanted to ask if I was every going to get payback?" she giggled softly. Tom knew she was playing a game but he had no idea which one it was.

"I don't think I understand," he stammered, she strutted away from him until she met the edge of his stainless desk. Her fingers gliding over the wood ever so slightly. She turned her head to look at him. She had a rawness in her eyes; lustful, a sinner's stare. It would be a look Tom was never forget for the rest of his life.

y/n suddenly jumped on the desk. Her ass moving the papers to the side as she slowly started to unbutton her tight jeans. "I think you do," it was almost a hiss but he only heard the desperation in her voice. "I want you to make me feel all the things you did that night."

Tom almost fainted just with that until she dropped her jeans the floor. She had come to class without any underwear on and her wetness was dripping onto the desk. Tom was sure was in heaven but he didn't want to believe it.

He got on his knees. His hands palming at her soft thighs. Tom didn't need another incentive, he didn't need another spur-on. Tom licked a single strip up her folds, y/n bit a moan back. It was like tasting ambrosia or doing cocaine for the first time. He needed more, so he went back in again, this time it was rougher. His fingers gripping at her ass, pulling her closer to his mouth as he devoured as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Her hands tangle themselves in his floppy curls, she tugs harshly on his scalp as he adds a finger into her warm entrance.

Tom's never felt like this before but he doesn't care. He's sure people can hear her soft but frantic moaning from outside, but he doesn't care. He'll never look at his desk the same way but like everything else, he doesn't fucking care. Tom curls his fingers in the perfect spot inside of her.

"Just like that," y/n calls out, her hair now sprawled out on the desk. "I'm going to cum sir."

Tom feels her walls contract around his fingers as he pulsing faster, her back arches and she trying so hard to force her cries back into her throat. It's a sight he wants to from above, it's a feeling he wants to feel inside of her. So, at the last minute, he retracts everything. His tongue leaves her throbbing clit and his finger, which are glistening with her slick, slid out of her.

y/n can't hold back to whine that leaves her left from the loss of his god-like tongue and fingers. "What the fuck Tom?!" she's angry with him, she wants to tell him off but before she can do it. One of his hands captures her wrist and slams them against the desk below her, pinning her to it. She whimpers at the sting of pain.

He's right above her but she can't see a single thing below her. "Look at me," he tells her sternly, she does what's she is told instantly. "You can't talk to me like that sweetness," y/n knows there is a venom behind his words even if she speaks in a melody. "I'm not your fucking boyfriend, you don't call me that."

Without any warning at all, he pounds right up into her. y/n almost spasms out of Tom's grip from the wave of pleasure. Tom doesn't move at all, he stays nuzzled inside her. It's agonising, almost painful for y/n. Having his perfect cock not jamming into her tight cunt. It's torture.

"You understand that?" he peppers kissed against the nape of her neck, she's about to cry out, she'll do anything. She nods her head frantically, hoping it's enough. It isn't. He keeps his hips locked tightly against hers. "Words, sweetness."

"Yes," she responds. She can feel him frown against her skin. He pulls right out of her and rams right back in, causing y/n to scream out in pleasure. "Y-yes sir," she corrects herself and with that, Tom starts a pace. It's slow and tantalising, he watches amazed at how her pretty folds swallow him up with every thrust. It's magnificent.

He wants to savour this moment forever. He wants to fuck her brains out for every waking moment of his existence.

"Sir, go harder," she moans below him. Her wrists bruised from his gripped, but the pain just only contributes in her overwhelming amount of pleasure. His thick cock is so much better than her fingers, no matter how many she adds.

Tom obliges and starts to really pound into her cunt. It's raw and ruthless, he's calling out her name now. "Fuck sweetness, you so bloody tight," he purrs, y/n can't respond through her chant of curses. "You're little cunt was made for me, it was made for me to stretch it out."

The dirty talk elevates her, y/n's not sure how much longer she'll last. His filling ever last inch of her. She can feel her tits bounce every time their skin collides. Her wrists are finally let free as he begins to clutch at her naked hips. It's an experience she's never felt. The sound of skin slapping and their combined gasping and cursing are the only thing she can perceive to hear. If there was a knock at the door, y/n knows she would have no idea about it.

Perhaps, it's the pure excitement and morality of this whole situation that makes them both feel like they're on cloud nine. Her arms snake around his waist, her hands move with every rough thrust into her. She's gripping onto his back through the material of his tight shirt. Her nails clasping on the contracting muscles. She would have left his back red and sore if he didn't have the damned t-shirt on to protect him.

"Fuck," she curses as he started to hit an area inside of her, she never knew existed. "Just like that sir, I am going to cum," she moans, her forehead against his. They lock eyes again, this time though there is no linger feeling of want or romance. It's just sex. Dirty, hot, intense fucking.

She's the first to come undone. The fire now transformed into a raging wildfire spreading across her entire abdomen. y/n throws her head back in ecstasy, her whole vision goes black and she has to bit down against her hand to stop and inevitable pornographic scream to jump out of her mouth. Her other hand clutches his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Tom follows shortly after, his thrusts become sloppy and erratic but never easing up. His cock twitches inside of her before he shots the hot white liquid all inside of her cunt. He pressed his lips against her as his attempt to stop his moan as well but he continues to call out her angelic name against her lips. Once, Tom pulls out of her, he watches in awe. The mixture leaks out of her hole and then pools on his desk. He's so in love with this woman it hurts.

"I have never cum that hard in my entire fucking life," she giggles, pulling her top down her flushed tits. As he too, starts to redress himself, he simply stares at her. Watches her retrieve her jeans from the floor and slip them up her bare ass. He spots her shove her panties back into his back pocket, not before she scribbles something down on a torn piece of paper.

"What are you doing?" he asked gently, wrapping his arms around her waist. She nuzzles her face in the crook of her.

"I'm giving you a reason to come make me dinner and then fuck me again," she explains, "I put my address in there, so hopefully you can't get lost."

"You sure about this," Tom asked hesitantly, y/n now swivelled around to face him. Her warm palm caressed his face.

"I wouldn't have just done that if I wasn't," she places a soft, tender kiss to his cheek. "Make it a Thursday though, my roommate will be out on those nights," she told him as he grabbed the last of her things and unlocked the door. Tom grins warmly as she makes herself presentable for the last time. "I would clean that up if I were you," y/n laughed, pointing at the obvious mess all over his desk before quickly exiting.

As she wobbled back to her dorm, she wondered what article of clothing she should leave out on their next escapade.

━━★✼☆｡

a/n: this is gonna flop, i just fuckin know it 🥴 anways i hope you enjoyed my fic that has ended my hiatus. see you (hopefully) soon 🥺

[touchastar]

Then you're not one of the people being talked about, are you? The people who DO are cringe, in no way did that post say everyone who has DID is cringe. It's about people who fake it and tell a bunch of bullshit about it to impressionable teens who don't know any better.

why do you care about me and my opinion so much? do you know me? do you follow me? are you invested in me and want to hear my genuine opinion and truly understand why i replied the way i did?

anyway.

the original poster is a singlet. im going to assume you are too. neither of you get to decide what is or isnt fake or cringe. neither of you have the "privilege" (if i can call such a tasteless and cheap shot a privilege) to joke about it either. its not an issue that affects you directly and its not your voice that needs to be heard.

why do you want to make fun of those you think are faking did? are you affected by them? is your disorder being stigmatized? or are they just an easy target to make yourself feel better, look good, and sound witty?

do you want to support those living with did?

by joking or talking (in the manner that you and the original poster are) or shaming those that you believe are cringe or faking, you're not making people with did look good nor are you defending them. you're punching down misinformed people, lumping in people with did with those that may or may not be faking, and reinforcing the concept that people with did are cringy and fake. which is enough of a problem without singlets feeling the need to bring up time and time again.

half of the online (im not even going to touch upon irl issues) stigma surrounding dissociative disorders comes from these kinds of jokes, these kinds of comments. yes, i do concede that those faking do cause damage and there is misinfo, but not nearly as much damage as the repeated jokes, the constant comments, over and over about how fake they all are and how cringy and weird and unfavorable the wrong kind of mentally ill person is.

just... let... us deal with the problem.

because i told the original poster that their post is in poor taste, you probably thought im "faking" too, right? but for some reason, i just dont find those comments funny. and i dont like how half of the people on the internet think that my fragmented brain is some kind of fnaf / anime larp.

sure maybe, maybe they dont mean me. how do i know that? how do i know im not being lumped in with the sixteen year old on tiktok that may or may not be faking it? ive known many people whose opinion on systems were formed by these exact comments, these exact jokes.

and of course, i have my own opinions on the ones you consider cringe, but i really doubt you want to hear that. you're only refreshing my blog over and over for an argument that you can't even put your url on.

[tillthelandslide]

I Do : Henry Cavill Fake Instagram Post

Tagged: @harrysthiccthighss @thereisa8ella @magdelen69 ​@henrythickcavill @hc-geralt-23 @kissthatlifeaway @darkbooksarwin @august-w-princess @speakerforthedead0 (if you want to be added to my tag list, please message me)

henrycavill:

henrycavill today’s the day my life changes for good, I’m going to be someone’s husband, and not just anyone, the love of my life @your_username, see you at the alter baby. You make me happier than I ever thought I could be, and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way.

This was taken this morning when I was a lot calmer then I am now, just want to marry you already

Liked by your_username, joeybateyoffical and 1,837,739 others

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your_username I’ll be the one in white...

freyaallan so excited, I’ve seen her Henry and damn she looks beautiful and hot

   ↳ your_username you look beautiful too i must add

   ↳ fan7 aw is she your bridesmaid?

   ↳ your_username its a big wedding so i have a lot of bridesmaids, all of which look beautiful @freyallan​ @anyachalotra​ @yourbestfriendsinsta @yoursistersinsta

joeybateyoffical fit

   ↳   your_username as always

fan8 wow i dont think im ready for him to be a husband

hoeforhenry im so happy for them

your_username:

your_username love recognises no barriers, it jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination, full of hope

To my darling HUSBAND Henry (still feels so surreal to call you that) the moment you walked into my life I knew I was done for. Everything about you made me fall but as cringy as it sounds you caught me ❤️ when you asked me to be your wife I was the happiest woman alive, today i actually became your wife and god i am so happy. Thank you for being my rock, my best friend and my soulmate. Here’s to a lifetime of happiness baby...

Liked by henrycavill, joeybateyoffical, milliebobbybrown and 873,738 others

View all 8,928 comments

fan3 Maya Angelou ❤️

armiehammer a truly beautiful ceremony

joeybateyofficial let's get drunk bitches! Congrats, truly the best couple

anyachalotra I'm still crying ngl

 ↳ fan7 mood

fan8 don't think I've been happier for them

henrycavill I am the happiest man alive. Mrs Cavill : here's to the rest of our lives baby🥂 thank you for being such an amazing woman and teaching me what real love is.

 ↳ your_username I love you so much

mrsamclafflin so happy for you both

 ↳   your_username thank you Sam!

hoeforhenry so many celebs are commenting, how many people were there?

 ↳   your_username we had quite a big ceremony, with all our family, friends and people we have both worked with through the years. They are all apart of our journey so we wanted them all there

milliebobbybrown this dress is beautiful

  ↳ your_username thank you love ❤️

henrycavill:

henrycavill Mr and Mrs Cavill... Well our bums

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your_username my husband sure does have a nice bum 

  ↳ henrycavill’shoe HUSBAND 🤯 Henry is someone's husband now, my heart is broken

  ↳ your_username sorry my love

hoeforhenry so happy for the both of you though, there is no one more deserving than you

   ↳ your_username you're too kind

freyaallan beautiful 😂

anyachalotra:

anyachalotra today was a truly beautiful day and I am filled with so much happiness and greatfullness that you shared it with me. I may have cried more than once today but this moment made me and Freya sob, the moment Henry saw you walking down the isle and he just smiled. You could see all the nerves just slip away... beautiful.

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your_username omg im so glad you filmed this moment, going to cherish this forever

   ↳ anyachalotra love you ❤️

   ↳ your_username love you too ❤️

freyallan im still crying ngl

   ↳ your_username we love you ❤️

henrycavill thank you for capturing this, everything stopped the moment is saw her, as cringy as that sounds

  ↳ anyachalotra STOP MAKING ME CRY

your_username

your_username thank you to everyone who came to our wedding reception yesterday, you all made it so beautiful, i have so much love for you all and my heart is still so full. Most of all thank you to Henry, you made my dreams come true and i will spend the rest of my life showing you nothing but love and admiration.

p.s how dishy is my husband?

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henrycavill i love you my beautiful wife

   ↳ your_username i love you more husband

fan7 fit

user829 so dishy

henrycavillfans damn he’s hot, you are so lucky

   ↳ your_username i am indeed

henrycavill

henrycavill when I met yn I was genuinely confused, I thought I had experienced love before, thought I knew what to expect in a relationship. Yn you blew me away, everything you did was phenomenal, your talent impressed not only me but all those around you. Your passion for what you do made me realise that you were the most dedicated person I had ever met. When I met you I learnt that everyone can learn to be just that little bit kinder, more caring and more forgiving . You taught me what love really looks and feels like. The kind of love I have with you is beyond my expectations, better than I could have ever imagined. You taught me what it was like to truly love myself and how that means you can truly love another person too. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my days with you, and I promise I will spend every day of our lives showing you just how much you mean to me. You have changed my life for the better baby and I can't believe I get to call you my wife ❤️ I promise to worship the ground you walk on until our last days, heres to forever 🥂

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your_username baby you made me cry again 🙃. Your words have just been amazing, your vows made me cry and so has this. THIS perfectly describes why I love you so much. You are the best man, heck the best person, I have ever met and you know I could go on about it for hours (and often do). Mr Cavill I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you ❤️

   henrycavill Mrs Cavill, I love you ❤️