#it sounds insane when I say 'I interrupted this activity I wanted to do to mindlessly scroll' and yet

[merge-conflict]

managed to play a little more last night and only paused to open my phone 5-10 times (don't do unmedicated adhd, kids) and i've decided the main point of playing this game is to photobomb johnny and take photos of valentine being a dumbass. the morning sun you can sometimes grab near the water is sooooo good for photos.

[rowdyluv]

“He's been a bit of a jerk”

Summary: quinn suddenly ditches his childhood best friend on new years eve when they have spent every NYE together since they were 6. luke saves the night

Warnings: use of y/n and I think one or two uses of y/n/n, only brief mentions of quinn not actually active in fic but substantial to the plot, like has internal dialogue via italics, if I missed anything please let me know

Word Count: 1.8k

requested: yes - “luke pining after Quinn’s best friends and he finally gets the girl.”

Authors Note: edited as may 31, 2024 - if you read before May 31 the word count is now 800 more than it is was previously 🫣

part 2

On the frost-tipped grass, (Y/N) sat beneath a canopy of stars, her back propped against the rough bark of an old oak tree. A light dusting of snow had settled over the ground, transforming the world into a perfect winter wonderland. She shivered, not necessarily from the cold evening, but from the heart wrenching realization that tonight was supposed to go different. It was New Year's Eve, and every year since they were six, she and her childhood best friend, Quinn had celebrated together. But this year, he had up and ditched her last minute. Just like that. He gave her zero explanation and no apology. He had just vanished into the night with his middle brother, leaving her feeling more alone than ever. Which when he left for the NHL was pretty hard to top, yet he somehow managed to do it when he was only somewhere in the same town. The two barely get to see each other anymore as it is. He lives in Vancouver and she lives in Michigan. Quinn flies her out to a few games a season and of course she attends any Canucks vs Redwings games as well as Canucks vs Devils games. However the time the two have available with one another is so restricted at that time, she may as well be just another fan in the arena.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching through the frosted snow. A warm blanket was draped over her shoulders, and a steaming cup of hot chocolate was pressed into her hands. She looked up, her eyes falling on her best friend’s youngest brother, Luke, as he joined her. She briefly looked over his features, his cheeks were already flushed from the growing colder night, but the smile he gave her was warm and genuine.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he whispered as if they were amongst a huge crowd of people and not alone in an empty yard. His voice still highly audible over the silence of the night. "I came out here for a few reasons but one being because I…” Luke’s words ran out into the night. His right hand pulling off his beanie then he was slipping his fingers through his messy curls. A tell tale sign he was nervous about whatever he was about to say. “I wanted to apologize for what Quinn did to you tonight. He had no right to leave you like that. I don’t know what is going on with him and what would make him decide to leave behind the one person who has been consistent for him that isn’t family. The one person in his life that still sees him as Quinn and not as big shot Quinn..” Luke shoved his beanie back on and sighed. He had been looking up at the night sky watching the night clouds move uncovering the stars. “He has been a bit of a jerk here lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to stop him."

(Y/N) smiled weakly at the rambling boy next to her. Her gaze slowly drifting back up to the now clear sky and where the stars were twinkling like Christmas lights. "It's fine, really. I mean, it stung a lot at first, but..." Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged halfheartedly. "I'm just glad you were here tonight." The butterflies in Luke’s stomach flapped back to life and were going insane at her last statement. “Who knows Lukey. Maybe we can start our own tradition together this New Year’s.” Luke was watching her body languagefor any signs of a joke before speaking up. “I wouldn’t mind. It would teach Quinn to ditch someone as special as you.” (Y/N) slightly smiled, still looking up at the stars. “Special? No. Just me Luke.” (Y/N) argued, Luke didn’t want to have the silly argument back and forth. He knew just how special she is. Given the chance he would show her too. After all, a girl like her deserves to be treated, loved, and respected the way she treats, loves, and respects everyone else. (Y/N) was the girl has sought after ever since Luke stopped thinking he was supposed to marry his mom when he was older. Luke shook his head and groaned at her words. “One day (Y/N/N). Just you wait, one day you’ll know just how special you truly are.” He tells her before they fell into another comfortable silent state. His words confidently spilled out. (Y/N) turned her head opposite from Luke so he couldn’t see the true smile she was wearing across her face because of him. She also hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat as a result of his words.

The silence stretched between them, as she snuggled further into the blanket, (y/n) suddenly became aware that Luke was only wearing a thin jacket as he shivered. She glanced over at him, her eyes meeting his. "Here," she said, pulling the blanket off from around her shoulders. "You can have this. It's getting kind of cold out here." Luke hesitated for a moment, debating on offering to share the blanket. "No, really. It's fine. I'm warm enough." She shot him a glare. “Luke Warren Hughes. I just saw you shiver.” Her tone, at best, was barely strict. He held eye contact waiting for her to continue, he could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “If you won’t take it for yourself, we will share it.” She says wrapping it around him and snuggling into his side. Luke was trying his best to calm the butterflies and his racing heart. While also fighting the mental battle on if he should shoot his shot at midnight.

(Y/N) is the girl I have wanted for years now. She is right here. Cuddling into my side, a couple moves and I could easily be her new year’s kiss. If she hates it? I just play it off as a friendly new year’s kiss. Her and Quinn have been each other’s midnight kiss before, I can play it off as if I’m filling his shoes if she questions me and she’s angry. I can do this. I can do this. I think I can do this?

As midnight was quickly approaching the air was thick with anticipation between the both of them and more people were gathering outside.

The countdowns echoed throughout the night, each one louder than the last.

Fireworks lit up the sky, casting a multitude of colors over everyone. The fireworks also casting iridescent colors across the blanket of snow on the ground. Making a beautiful picturesque scene.

Luke decided it was definitely now or never. He may not have done it 12am but right now under the colorful display of the many fireworks was perfect. He smiled down at (Y/N), feeling a warmth spread through his chest, for the first time the butterflies in his stomach calmed. He leaned in, his breath fanning her cheek. "Happy New Year, (Y/n)." She felt his lips brush against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. That is when he froze up. Her reaction to his lips barely touching her sent his heart racing. He was scared she was going to send him flying into the snow. Her best friend’s baby brother’s lips just touched her. But she didn’t move. She was waiting? Luke quickly finished his well wishes to her before she snapped out of it, "I hope this year brings you everything you wish for." Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled back, their gazes locked.

“Do it Luke. Her eyes are basically screaming, begging for you to.” why do you have to be in my head now jack dear god please shut up.

In a seconds time he was leaning back in, his left hand making its way softly to the back of her head. His fingers interlacing in her hair. (Y/N)’s breaths were slow and deep awaiting Luke’s next move. “Tell me if this isn’t something you want.” Luke swallows down the anxiety he was feeling. Mentally silencing the jack he hears in his head telling him to go for it. “Because once I do this once.. I’m going to want to do this again and again. Everyday for the next foreseeable future.” Luke’s voice was trembling in want, desire, need. All of his feelings rushing to the forefront of his mind. “Shut up and kiss me Luke.” (Y/N) sighed grasping his face pulling him to her.

As their lips touched, the grand finale of the fireworks show was set off. The energy of the grand finale matching the energy sparking off the two of them. Luke and (y/n)’s kiss was hot enough to melt the snow underneath them. The way their mouths moved in perfect harmony. The small nips Luke made against her bottom lip as he pulled away. It left them both wanting more, needing more.

“Remind me to thank my brother for being an ass.” Luke mumbles against her lips before getting lost in another languid kiss. “Lukey let’s go home. It’s the new year, I’m cold and I also want to thank Quinn, because now I know who the better kisser is...well I’ve not kissed Jack.” She pauses and makes a playful gagging noise. “And because it finally got you to make a move.” Luke’s face went more red than it already was where it was tinged from the cold. “That..what?” He was baffled by her admittance . “I had my assumptions. I’m just happy I wasn’t wrong. Now let’s goooo. I wanna go get in bed and get warm.” (Y/N) sent a wink his way.

She was hinting towards cuddling. But with how fast Luke was grabbing up the blankets that they had been sitting on and were wrapped up in, before grabbing her hand and heading to the car…She is pretty sure his mind went a different direction.

“Quinn now owes me $10, he said you didn’t like me.” (Y/N) says once they were in the car and headed down the road. “You two had a bet on if I had a crush on you or not?” Luke laughed while asking. “No we had a bet on if you even liked me as a person. Because you avoided me. He’s going to be so shocked to know that you like-like me.” She clarifies with a giggle when she says ‘like-like’. Luke rolls his eyes at the thought of his older brother being naive enough to believe he didn’t like his best friend. “So back to what you said earlier tonight…Same thing and same place next new year’s?” Luke asks her. She nods with a smile. “New tradition, with you. Starting this year.” (Y/N) confirms with a nod. “Only maybe we hang out inside until right before midnight.” She adds grabbing for Luke’s hand to wrap both of her freezing ones around. The two sat in a comfortable silence stealing quick glances, with smiles plastered across their faces, and glimmers in their eyes the rest of the way to the Hughes home.

[prentissluvr]

the impala, 4:00 p.m. — sam winchester

cw : gn!winchester!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, sam & reader are twins, dean's implied to be dead/gone (you choose which time lol), unedited, 608 words. requested ! for my 800 followers event [ closed ] .

summary : sam lifts your mood with a book on a sort of somber day in the impala.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

for months now, it’s just been you two. sort of like how it was when sam was at stanford. you moved near campus to be close to him at nineteen. the year apart beforehand had been hellish sometimes.

but these days have this odd liminality to them. there are no crappy college kid apartments or girlfriends or parties. just the impala, the road, monsters, and each other. you miss dean. some days you almost don’t.

lots of days you miss what you and sam could’ve had, but it feels too late now. it’s sort of nice, though, because you don’t hunt all the time. you and sam take breaks. you help where you can, then you visit southern california for a taste of hot weather and salty air. last week, you stopped for a few days in a midwestern national park. it was stunning, and perfectly suited to yours and sam’s tastes.

today is an in between day, no plans and no hunts on the horizon yet. you��re behind the wheel, your mixtape playing through the speakers. as for the way you feel, everything there is an in between too.

you’re tired, but painfully aware. mourning, and oddly at peace. it doesn’t quite feel bad, but you don’t feel good.

oftentimes, your mood aligns with sam’s. you guess it could be that cliche twine telepathy, but to you it feels more like a deep understanding of each other paired with so many sort of insane and mundane shared experiences.

but today, sam is good. he’s not great, because it’s sort of hard to be more often than not these days, but the two of you are slowly figuring it out. sam very easily senses the way you feel. today and every day. he thinks you’re teetering on the edge enough that he can steer you in the more pleasant direction.

he’s going to offer to switch to the drivers seat in a bit, but he’ll do a few other things first. before interrupting your quiet time with the music and scenery, he’s going to find a good place to eat. not an american diner, but somwhere with better food. he hopes he can find a thai place with good reviews.

then he pulls out a book. you don’t look over at the movement at first. you can see the book in his lap through your peripheral vision, and don’t blink because he’s always reading when he get’s bored in his passenger’s seat. but then he turns down the music and shows you the cover with an unspoken question.

the fellowship of the rings.

you had forgotten that sam carries the lord of the rings books around with him. it catches you by complete surprise, the sight of the worn copy you two shared as kids and the question in his eyes. you grin. he’s asking if you want him to read it aloud to you, to fill up a bit of the gaping hole in this car.

“i forgot you had that,” you say, eyes turning back to the road, but your smile sticking around. sam grins back at you.

“what, you think i go anywhere without a copy of this?” he says lightheartedly, half teasing himself by saying something so nerdy.

“as you should,” you shrug, shutting the music all the way off. “go on, then.” you hear the creak of the spine, and the rustle of pages. then sam’s voice, a sound that melds in perfect familiarity with the rumble of the impala.

“three rings for the elven-kings under the sky, seven for the dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, nine for mortal men doomed to die…”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

once a friend made me sit on his shoulders and carried me around, i got so shy when i realized there were some people staring at my thighs (they are already big when i sit down they get bigger, it was practically impossible to see my friend's head 🥸 ) could you do some twst boys reacting to this situation?

(I hope that didn't sound weird, I just like to see horny messed up boys)

Don't we all 😏

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Sitting On Their Shoulders | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Ft. Floyd Leech, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, Trey Clover

Floyd Leech

If you’ve read about Floyd on my blog its practically my own cannon that he absolutely loves it

Your weight, your thighs, the warmth of your privates at the back of his head

He loves to squeeze people and no doubt probably likes to get squeezed himself

While he typically sees being squeezed as an activity for fun its also a kind of love-language

Especially with you

So much as touching him skyrockets his mood and has him smothering you in his affection

No doubt is drooling when you squeeze around his head

He gets off to to his weak mate attempting to compete with him 

Even if that's not what your doing

He’s so close to your intimates its like he’s getting a taste before he gets the real thing

He’s not exactly sly enough to trick you so he’ll instead put you in situations where you owe him a favor

“Ne~Shrimpy you owe me! Five minutes and your not allowed to stop squeezing!”

Anyone who gets in the way will be squeezed into oblivion

He will not tolerate anyone interrupting in his (Y/n)-time

Interfering is like directly challenging an eel trying to mate

Showing that they are a rival: 

Someone who’s getting put 40ft deep into the Coral Sea if they don’t stop

“Hehe your just askin’ for me to squeeze ya into an early grave!”

Jack Howl

Blushy and trying to keep calm 

He no doubt offers his tall stature to help you fix something high up in Ramshackle

Because for some reason…some Savanna Claw students are borrowing the only ladder you were provided…

Anyway Jack is there to help

As the good friend he is 

He doesn’t mean to enjoy this so much

But your weight on his shoulders makes him proud

But the rubbing of your…against his head is driving him insane

He wants to tell you he really does

“Mmmm”

“Is there something wrong Jack? Am I too heavy?”

“No! You are perfectI mean I worry that you may be slipping…perhaps squeeze a bit tighter?”

He knows it probably isn’t right that his tail wags so intensely when all he can smell is you

But he just can’t help it!

After all he couldn’t in good conscience let anyone take this task

After all they’d take advantage of you

“If you ever need uhm a ladder again, I’d be there.”

Epel Felmier

A real man can carry anything (so they say)

So of course he’d jump at the opportunity to hold you up

All the better if your squeezing him tight

Go ahead

Go tighter

He can handle 

Don’t think he can? 

he’s squeezing your thighs tighter around his face

“Keep going (Y/n)! D’ya think I’m weak?! Try me!”

Not struggling by your weight he’s overheating out of overexcitement

To be so close to you

To be able to feel you 

He can easily rub his exfoliated cheeks against your plush skin

And he’s living the dream

“Hah~your really–hah~ really warm. It’s fine no worries.” 

Trey Clover

He’s a brother first and foremost

So he’s done this many a time before 

But the very action of feeling you grind upon the back of his head

And the heated warmth of your thighs on his ears

“Oh…whoa…this is…nice.”

He’s transcended into an experience of intimacy he’s never gotten

…from his other ventures

He may not let you down 

Claiming to have gotten carried away, lost in thought as he returns to playfully toss you on his bed

“Let’s do this properly (Y/n). You shouldn’t be teasing anyone but me. And even if you are…I can only stay calm for so long.”

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

Title: cruel summer | chapter 3

Pairing: Joel Miller/Female Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s Note: thank you so much for all the love on this little fic! Please consider leaving a comment because they make my whole day 🖤

Additional warnings/tags: age difference (15 years), explicit sexual content, dirty talk (like a LOT), pet names, vaginal fingering, begging, mentions of overstimulation, mentions of oral (f receiving), p in v, fluff, mild angst. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

The next couple weeks feel like a dream that you never want to wake up from. Joel comes over every morning and gives you a sweet kiss before heading upstairs to start on his work while you study, actually being able to focus now that the air is cleared with him. He comes down at lunch and sits beside you with a hand on your thigh while you chat and eat, his eyes all soft as he watches you gesture wildly about the topic at hand.

He’s come back over a couple times after working hours. If Tommy or his neighbor’s teenage daughter are able to watch Sarah for a couple hours, he’ll stop by your house to spend time with you. Most of his visits just end with making out on the couch like a couple of teenagers because no matter how much you beg, he still won’t fuck you.

You can’t tell if it’s a residual feeling of guilt or something else, but it’s driving you insane. He’ll enthusiastically do just about anything else, including a memorable evening where he laid you out on the couch and leisurely ate your pussy until you had to literally shove him away from how overstimulated you were getting. And while that was amazing, you want more from the older man.

Two weeks after your conversation and subsequent activities, Joel comes downstairs on a Friday with a smile on his face.

“Hey, baby,” he says, leaning down to kiss you. His tongue traces your bottom lip, slipping into your mouth to slide with yours. “How’s studyin’?” He asks as he pulls away, huffing a laugh as you chase his lips with a pout.

“Fine. Boring. How’s the manly manual labor?”

“Comin’ along nicely. Listen, I wanna ask you somethin’,” he says. “Sarah wants to go to the aquarium tomorrow to see the mermaids. She asked if you could come, too.”

You blink in surprise. “Sarah asked for me?”

“Yeah, she won’t shut up about you,” he replies. “You don’t gotta come if you’ve already got—“

“I do! I mean, I do…want to go. To the aquarium with you and Sarah,” you interrupt.

“Good, that’s…good,” Joel says. You’re just smiling at each other like a couple idiots. He clears his throat and glances away for a second. “We can pick you up tomorrow morning. How’s nine?”

“Nine sounds great.”

He nods, knocking his knuckles against the table top in the way he does when he needs to leave but doesn’t want to. He leans down for another kiss, this one chaste and quick as he bids you goodbye.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

_______

Joel parks the truck in front of your house, sending you a quick text to let you know he’s here. Sarah is bouncing in her seat, her little body unable to contain her excitement.

He watches you come out the front door in a fucking sundress of all things and he has to bite back a groan of appreciation. You’re usually in shorts or leggings at your house, which are tempting enough, but your little blue sundress with strawberries printed on it has just jumped to the top of his list of “best things he’s ever seen in his life”.

Joel gets out of the driver’s seat and circles the truck to open the door for you, helping you up into the lifted cab. His hand lingers on your upper back, fingers dragging across your warm, smooth skin. He smiles with smug satisfaction as he watches your arms erupt with goosebumps from his touch.

Sarah calls your name excitedly. “We’re gonna see mermaids!”

You twist in your seat to respond. “I know! Just like Ariel, huh?”

Sarah nods excitedly and proceeds to list off the rest of the animals she’s excited to see, including the stingrays and otters and sharks. You nod along with her list and tell her about how much you love otters, and did she know that otters hold hands when they’re sleeping so that they don’t float away from each other?

Joel can’t stop smiling. He can’t remember the last time he smiled for so long his cheeks ached. Your eyes flit to him briefly and you smile back, bright and sweet.

He parks the truck amongst the hundreds of other visitors in the parking lot and Sarah frees herself from the confines of her car seat. You hop down and join her on the pavement, his daughter’s arms wrapping around your waist and holding tightly until Joel joins the two of you.

“Let’s go see some mermaids,” he says.

________

Sarah’s sitting beside you, her little hand holding tightly to yours while she breathlessly watches the mermaid show. It’s two young women in gorgeous green and red tail suits, diving and flipping while an emcee narrates the show. They take the occasional break with a breathing apparatus, but otherwise they’re holding their breath while smiling and waving at the kids sitting with their noses pressed to the tank glass.

When the show ends, Joel asks Sarah whether she wants to meet the mermaids, earning him a shriek that you interpret to be a yes. He holds her hand as you get in line for the meet and greet, and gives her his undivided attention while she recounts every minute of the exact show he just watched beside her.

Joel insists that you get in the picture with them. A teen with a Polaroid camera tells you to smile.

You don’t have to be told twice.

Sarah clutches that Polaroid protectively to her chest and proclaims, “This is the best day ever!”

Your heart feels like it’s going to burst.

________

Joel takes his girls out for dinner after a long day at the aquarium. Sarah sits beside him in the booth at a local bar and grill, clutching a stuffed otter you insisted on buying for her despite his objections that he didn’t want you spending money.

“When’s that exam again?” He asks, snagging one of the nachos from the plate in the center.

“Ugh, end of next week,” you groan. “At this point I’m just ready for it to be over. If I never look at another physics practice test, I’ll die a happy woman.”

“What happens next?”

“Well, I go back to school for senior year. If I bomb the exam, I can take it again before April so that I have my scores available to apply to med school in May,” you say, ticking the steps off on your fingers. “Since I graduate before the end of the application cycle, I’ll have a gap to fill. I was thinking of making it a research year.”

Sometimes, especially in moments like this, Joel finds himself in awe of you, of the way you have your life planned out and your goals ready for conquering. When he was your age, he was still working odd jobs until one finally stuck that he could actually make a living from.

It’s also moments like this that he wonders if he’ll fit into your plans. If you’ll even want him to, or if you’ll go after your next goal and leave him behind, just a fun time from a cruel summer. The thought makes him swallow around the lump forming in his throat.

________

“So, did you want me to drop you off or…,” Joel asks when you’re back in the truck, his eyes fixed resolutely on the road.

“Or…?” You reply, voice dragging the word out.

“You could come over,” he suggests. You bite your lip.

“Why Mr. Miller, are you asking me to spend the night?”

His cheeks turn a delicious shade of pink beneath his beard. “Yeah, I am, baby doll.”

Your breath catches at the endearment. “I’d love to come over.”

His hand crosses the center console, gripping your thigh possessively for the rest of the quiet drive back to his house.

_______

Joel pulls up to a cute two story house at the end of a quiet cul de sac about fifteen minutes from your parent’s home. Sarah fell asleep not long after leaving the restaurant, so he carefully gathers her in his arms and hands you the house keys to unlock the front door for him.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he tells you. “I’m just gonna get little miss here in bed.”

“Okay,” you whisper back, watching him disappear upstairs.

You wander through the first floor, into the kitchen with its pretty bay window with a view of a small backyard. You inspect the fridge and the pictures and drawings stuck to it with magnets. There’s a photo of a younger looking Joel with an arm slung around the shoulders of a man you assume is Tommy, based on the resemblance. Another photo with a scared looking Joel holding a blanketed bundle that must be a newborn Sarah.

You reach out to trace a finger over the Joel frozen in time, a version of himself that didn’t know he’d grow out of that fear and be an amazing father.

You nearly jump when hands slip around your hips, fingers bunching the fabric of your dress in their grip. Joel’s beard tickles your neck as he kisses your pulse point and down to your shoulder.

“You have any idea how insane you’ve been drivin’ me all goddamn day?” He asks, voice a rough whisper against your skin. “This dress should be illegal.”

“It’s a perfectly respectable dress!” You argue. His laugh is dangerous, the rumble of it making your thighs clench in want.

“The things I wanna do to you aren’t perfectly respectable, honey.” His hands pull your hips back against his, grinding your ass against the bulge in his jeans.

You reach a hand back to bring his face to yours over your shoulder, kissing him with a desperation that’s been brewing and bubbling for weeks now. One of his strong hands grips a breast tightly, making you moan louder than you meant to.

“Be quiet, baby,” he warns. That hand slides down until he’s reaching the hem of your dress, pulling it up and holding it in front of your mouth. “Bite it. You keep that out of my way, okay?”

You nod, fabric clenched between your teeth as his hand trails down your stomach, fingers finding the damp patch on your panties and pressing it against you.

“Fuck , sweetheart. Been walkin’ around with panties this wet? Pussy so desperate it can’t help but weep, huh?”

Those fingers slip past the elastic and the first touch to your sensitive clit has you trying to squirm out of his tight hold.

“Uh, uh,” Joel admonishes. He cups your entire pussy roughly. “You stay still or I stop. Still and quiet so I can take care of you, alright?”

You sob around the fabric clenched between your teeth and he takes that as agreement.

His fingers slide through your wetness and he groans into your ear, nipping at the lobe as he circles your clit, the delicious roughness of his callouses making you whine.

Joel only dips the tip of one finger into your hole, withdrawing quickly and leaving you clenching on nothing. When you whine again, he takes pity on you, finally plunging one deep inside before dragging it out slowly, curling it against you.

“You’re gonna be the goddamn death of me,” he growls as he adds a second finger, the stretch of it making you moan. “But Christ almighty, what a fuckin’ way to go, huh?”

With his fingers stretching your cunt and his thumb pressing to your clit and his dirty words in your ear, it's no surprise that you’re already standing on the precipice of release.

“Come on, baby, don’t hold back on me, I can feel you gripping my fingers so fuckin’ good.” His hand works faster and you cry out, the fabric of your dress falling from your mouth. It’s swiftly replaced by his hand. “That’s it, good girl.”

Joel pulls his hand from your underwear and you slump against him, boneless and sated. He’s turning you around in his arms, gripping the backs of your thighs and lifting you up, urging your legs around his waist. He takes a few steps and sets you on the counter.

“Baby, I gotta fuck you,” Joel says, his voice tinged with desperation. “Can I fuck you, sweetheart?”

________

Joel holds his breath as he waits for you to respond, watching your blissed out expression. You smile at him, reaching forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into a deep, filthy kiss. Your teeth dig into his bottom lip, pulling it gently with you as you lean back.

“Please fuck me, Joel,” you whisper, spreading your legs. “Been dyin’ to have your cock in me.”

Joel reaches beneath your dress to tear your panties down your legs, letting them drop to the floor. He reaches into his back pocket and hands you the condom he’d stashed. “Open this,” he commands as he undoes the fly of his pants, shoving them down his thighs in a hurry.

You tear open the foil packet with shaky hands, handing the latex over to him to roll down his length. He slides his cock through your wetness, reveling in how your head drops back with a groan of his name.

Joel begins to ease inside, gritting his teeth as he sinks into your warmth. He’d imagined this countless times and yet nothing compares to the real thing. How your body opens up so sweetly, like it was made just for him. How your mouth drops open as you watch him break you apart.

He forces himself to go slowly, to give you time to adjust. You’ve got one hand propping you up on the counter and the other gripping his shoulder so tight he thinks he might bruise.

“I gotta move, sugar, you feel too damn good,” he says through his teeth. “Tell me I can move, baby, please.”

“Yes, yes, move,” you reply.

Joel withdraws slowly before slamming forward, punching a gasp from your lungs. He does it again and again and again, hardly wanting to be disconnected from you for even a moment. He watches your face, committing the flush of your cheeks and the shimmer of unshed tears in your eyes to memory.

“ Joel,” you sob, your hand digging into his hair and pulling him close. You’re not kissing him, too fucked out for that much coordination, but your lips linger against his as the two of you share the same breath.

“That feel good, darlin’?” Joel asks. You nod your head vigorously. “Come on, baby, tell me how good my fuckin’ cock feels.”

“F-feels s-so g-good,” you stutter. “Want more.”

“More? Tell me how to give you more, I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”

“Touch me, baby, please.”

Joel maintains his relentless pace as he reaches a hand down to draw sloppy circles over your clit. He watches as you bite your lip, a single tear slipping down your cheek in an effort to stay quiet. He leans forward to kiss it away.

It’s not long before you’re tightening around him, your eyebrows pinched as your orgasm looms. His own hips stutter in their rhythm.

“Come on, sweetheart, need to feel you cum all over my cock. Can you do that for me?”

You wrap both arms around his shoulders, keeping yourself pressed tightly to him as you sink your teeth into his shoulder to suppress your shout as you pulse around him. With a growl, Joel follows your lead to ecstasy, spilling inside of you.

His hips slow to a stop, but he keeps himself pressed inside of you, not ready to break the connection. He pulls back only enough to press a slow, languid kiss to your lips.

“That was gorgeous, darlin’,” he says, and he fights a laugh as you blush and squirm beneath him, as if you hadn’t just been begging for and cumming on his cock not five minutes earlier. He slips from your warmth with a groan and you give a little whimper.

He disposes of the used condom, pulling his pants back up but not bothering to button them. He returns to stand between your legs and you drape your arms around his shoulders, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Joel?”

“Yes, baby?”

“What is it with you and kitchens?” You ask. Your face splits with a cheeky grin.

Joel laughs so hard his stomach hurts, your own giggles echoing him. He drags you off the counter, setting you on your feet.

“Come on, let’s get to bed.”

Tags: @huffle-punk @telepathay @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @caatheeriinee07 @leeeesahhh @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 36

"...Excuse me?" Camila's annoyance was quick to return after such an insane request.

"I mean, your couch looks comfy," Eda said. "A bit lumpy, but preferable to that shack in the woods."

"Are you...homeless?" Manny asked next.

"Oh, heck no! I've got a home, just not in, er, your neighborhood. Where me and King came from is under a lot of stress at the moment so we're laying low, hiding out in your realm for the time being."

"Why would you need to lay low?"

"Well..." Eda then dug into her hair and pulled out a wanted poster of herself with her hand aflame. "I'm sort of...wanted. From the law."

"...Oh. Okay." Camila pointed to the door. "Get out."

"Here me out--"

"I am not letting some...some witch criminal live under my roof!"

"I didn't break any major laws!" Eda defended, putting the wanted poster back in her hair. "Just the dumb ones. I didn't join a coven when I graduated magic school, I own a stand without a permit, I have a hocus without a pocus--"

"I don't care how illegal your activities are!" Camila exclaimed. "They're still illegal and I don't want that anywhere near my kids!"

"Speaking of kids, hot dang those daughter of yours are heavy sleepers," Eda noted, looking at the miraculously sleeping Luz and Vee. Even King was surprisingly still asleep. "You've been raising your voice this whole time and they haven't so much as peeped an eye open."

"I know, right--Don't change the subject!" Camila snapped. "You're a criminal!"

"I prefer outlaw."

"That's not better!"

"It at least sounds cooler."

"YOU--!"

"Camila." Manny puts his hands on Camila's shoulders, trying to relax her with a little massage. "Can I speak with you for a second."

Camila growled at Eda once more before relenting to Manny, letting him walk her a few steps away from the wild witch. "You better not try and talk me into hearing her out," Camila whispered.

"I know it might be insane," Manny whispered back, "but it's at least worth considering."

"No, it isn't."

"As far as we know, she comes from the same world Vee does. She might have answers to so many questions that Vee's unable to give. It wouldn't hurt to make nice with someone like that."

"She's a criminal."

"Because she broke laws that don't seem too bad."

"Still a criminal."

"At least she's not dangerous."

"Dangerous or not, she's still a criminal."

"Excuse me," Eda said, interrupting Camila and Manny's little conversation. "Couldn't help but overhear, mainly because you're both some pretty loud whisperers, but is it at least worth considering that I came clean about being wanted? Because the way I see it, I had two options: I could either lie about who I am and cause ya to overreact when the truth somehow came out--'Cause it always does--or I could just put all the cards out on the table and explain myself."

"Well, you're not doing a good job at explaining yourself," Camila said with a scowl.

"Actually, I'd say I'm doing a perfect job. I already told you that the laws I broke weren't anything major. They were just little things that never actually hurt anybody. Well, aside from the coven guards, but trust me when I say that those chumps had it coming."

"So you assaulted your world's version of the authorities."

"Authorities that will either put you in a box that you don't want to be in or petrify you for refusing even that."

"Petrify?" Manny curiously asked.

"Turn you to stone," Eda briefly explained. "It's permanent and ain't exactly pretty."

"That's...awful," Manny voiced sympathetically, to which Eda shrugged.

"It's nothing that'll happen to me, I'll tell you that much. Not as long as I can avoid being caught. Hence me staying in the human realm for a bit and me asking if it's cool if I crash on the couch." Eda focussed on Camila again, who seemed to lessen her frustration a bit, but not enough to relent completely. "What say you, Tiny?"

"Call me that again, and you'll lose more than your head," Camila sternly replied.

"Got it. Sorry."

"And...I'd feel bad under any other circumstance, but something about having a known criminal, even if the laws she broke aren't too awful, is just...too much. For me."

"Oh, for--It's not forever," Eda said, her annoyance showing. "Just for the night. Maybe two. Honestly, I'm only here because my current security system for my house is out sick and needs to 'recooperate.' Don't bother asking me what that means, because I do not want to know. I've learned not to ask him things."

Camila and Manny shared a curious look with each other, not even sure how to tackle that.

"Okay, how about just for tonight, then?" Eda suggested. "Me and my boy just need one break from sleeping in that shack. Can you at least give us that? We'll be out of your hair by morning and you'll never have to see us again. I mean, would you really let that precious little guy out in the cold for that much longer...?"

Eda gestured over to King, still sleeping soundly. Camila narrowed her eyes at him, finally noticing something she was amazed not to have noticed earlier.

"Wait...That's the dog you brought in," she stated.

"Ah, right, you still want payment." Eda started digging in her hair again. "Hang on, let me just--"

"No--I mean, yes. I do want my money. But I want to know is how did you make him look...not like that in the vet?"

"Oh, that?" Eda then blew a raspberry as she waved her hand. "That's nothing more than a simple illusion spell. Any witch with a starter's knowledge of illusion magic could do the same thing."

"You can make fake things seem super real?"

"Up to a point. Can't really make anything tangible. Only real enough where you think you can touch it."

Camila then glanced over to Vee, snoring softly without a worry in the world. Camila looked back at Eda, an idea forming as her worries appeared to have an exit.

"...Do you think you know how to make something like that...permanent?"

[liseytopia]

𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 .ᐟ

summary: two aching hearts, a local bar, and lingering feelings all mix together, leaving you a bundle of confusion, but.. you like it.

pairing: jake webber x reader (exes to lovers)

contents: slightttt angst, a little fluff at the end, tension, jake being jake ;)

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, mentions of cheating (i do not condone!!), not proofread

an: i still, i still looovee youuu 😽

wc: 2.6k

you and jake broke up over half a year ago, and to say on good terms would be a bit of a stretch. you haven't stayed in touch. never see each other out in public, and you wanted it to stay that way.

..at least, that's what you said to yourself.

it wasn't easy for you, or for him, but you had no way of knowing that.

you had a good reason to have left. he never had time for you, he swore he'd try to clear up some but it never happened.

and you were kindhearted, willing to understand the issue and cut him some slack.. but that quickly changed as he paid less and less attention to you entirely, prompting you to find out he was talking to a different girl the whole time.

it was ugly. you dumped him. he cried, begging for you to just listen. but you were done giving him chance after chance, so you walked out that door and didn't batt an eye to him ever again.

that was.. until your best friend invited you to a hang out with her tonight.

you happily got all dolled up, with your brand-new lacy white dress with tiny bows on it and your chunky pumps. your face was glittering with highlighter and you finally felt entirely and fully in place.

you wore a smile nearly the entire night. that same, beaming smile that everyone seemed to love about you. the smile that he used to love about you.

you got dinner, chatted, did a little shopping. every typical activity for a girl's night out.

so you thought, what's a better way to end the night than grab a quick drink?

it wasn't supposed to be anything huge, the last thing you wanted was to get absolutely wasted and wake up with a throbbing headache, throwing up in your bathroom.

you and your friend sat down at the bar, ordered your drinks, and started chatting again. it was all playful banter and gossip until you were interrupted by a couple of rather loud guys entering the bar. your initial reaction would be to just ignore it, but one of their laughs stood out to you. it sounded almost a little too familiar.

"yeah, yeah, yeah! i remember. that was insane," one of the voices exclaimed. wow, can you not be a little bit quieter? you thought to yourself.

there was that voice again. a different one. one that you knew you recognized but couldn't quite put your finger on yet.

"dude, and then he got absolutely fucked up. like that one time you were just talking about, but worse."

you turned around in your seat, looking for the man whose voice the familiarity belonged to. your eyes scanned a few people until they landed on the boy in the middle of a crowd of friends. it was only the back of his head, but you already started to get an idea of who it was.

they continued loudly conversing until one of them sat down at the bar and the rest of them followed, a few deciding to stand next to the ones sitting. they were dangerously close to you and your own friend, and you debated leaving right then and there.

but as you gazed at the group of boys, your friend curiously doing the same, he looked up and met your eyes.

that's who it was.

his eyes were on yours for what felt like what had to have been decades, but in reality was only a few seconds. the gaze was warm, his brown eyes just as you remembered them, with the same look they always used to give you. soft, admiring, like you were the only girl he could ever want.

your trance was quickly snapped out of as your friend started speaking again, and then that's when you remembered that you weren't supposed to be gazing at your ex like a deer in the headlights.

"hey, isn't that, like, your ex? that's jake, right?" she asked, a little bit too loudly to the point where he looked up once again.

you scrambled to avoid jake's lingering gaze on you, an internal war being fought in your head as you decided between leaving this place for the better, or..

another idea. one you weren't so sure of, but your body screamed yes.

"uh— yeah.. that's kind of weird, isn't it?" you replied back to her, trying to keep the mood lighthearted, mostly in an attempt to keep your mind off the fact that jake was a few seats down from you.

time passed pretty quickly eventually. you found yourself having fun, engaging in your conversation without the distraction of your attractive, and, might i add— staring, ex-boyfriend.

at least he was staring the last time you checked. your eyes glanced up to see if he still was, and–

..he wasn't there. where did he go? maybe to the bathroom? you swore you saw him less than a minute ago. wait, why were you even worrying? you're not supposed to care, he's not even in your life anymore and—

"fancy seeing you here."

that voice. it snapped you right out of your thoughts, because now you knew jake didn't go to use the bathroom, or anywhere else for that matter. he was talking to you.

you couldn't help stumbling over your words. a sudden heat rushed up to your cheeks, and you didn't know why, if anything, you wanted it to stop. you didn't want to see this man.

"uh– i— yeah," you laughed nervously, then internally facepalmed for being so awkward.

you didn't want to he here. you wanted to leave. you didn't want to be talking to jake, anybody but him. those words looped in your head like a mantra, as if trying to convince yourself that what you were saying was true. and deep down, part of you felt differently.

jake smiled at you and it quieted all your thoughts. or made them louder, you weren't sure which one. "is this not a good time? i can.." he started, gesturing back to his group that he entered the bar with.

you quickly cut him off, "no, no, no— it's fine." well that sure wasn't the answer he expected, let alone the one you expected to say.

he chuckled again, flashing his perfect teeth at you as he continued standing between you and your friend.

with another sip of her drink, your friend raised an eyebrow at you and began, "i think that's my cue to leave." you tried to silently beg her to stay, but she neglected, slipping her purse over her shoulder and tipping the bartender before whispering to you, "text me if you need anything," hopping out of her seat and winking at you on her way out the door.

now that she was gone, your interaction felt way more.. overwhelming. you supposed jake was able to tell when he moved to place a hand on your shoulder, light and cautious, testing the waters and not wanting to startle you or make you any more uncomfortable.

you shivered slightly at the touch, and he quickly raised his hand less than a centimeter off your shoulder. it didn't take long for you to relax again at the feeling of his hand on you, though, and you hoped he didn't realize.

he didn't break eye contact with you once. it was strong, almost sickening, and you weren't bad with these types of things, it just mattered when it came to him.

eventually jake took the seat next to you, the one your friend was in earlier, and your stomach was doing flips. why did you feel like this? why did you miss him so much? you were supposed to hate him. after all, he did cheat on you. you pushed those feelings down and tried to stay angry at him.

"you seem kinda shaken up," he started, breaking the silence. "i didn't mean to scare you."

his words caught your attention again, and this time you tried to compose yourself a little better.

"i'm okay, you didn't scare me," you replied, forcing your tone to sound annoyed.

"well, i just.. wanted to say hi, i guess," he continued, looking away from you once he realized you probably didn't want him there.

he seemed surprised you even wanted to talk to him, but he swiveled around in his seat to face you. his expression was softer than usual, more cautious, like he was scared he would mess this up. mess you up; again.

you sat in the quiet for a moment, thinking about whether or not you should just leave while you had the chance to... but what's the worst that could happen if you stayed for a little longer?

"wait," jake looked like he was about to get up before you reached a hand out to his arm to stop him, which definitely caught him off guard.

"why'd you come over here? y'know, to talk to me?" you built up the courage to ask, bringing your hand off his arm nervously. it seemed like your entire arrogant mood was gone.

"oh, um– i just.. noticed you, and.. wanted to know how you were doing," he replied nervously, obviously unsure of his own answer and fidgeting with his baggy jeans underneath him.

"bullshit," you said immediately after, pushing your drink away from you on the counter. "tell me the real reason why."

jake was slightly taken aback by your response, but he knew himself that you were right. he sighed and bit the inside of his cheek.

"i mean, i.. i don't want you to want to freak you out or anything—"

"tell me. you're not gonna freak me out, jake."

his jaw was slack, unsure of what he should do. but, fuck, that look in your eyes, he couldn't say no to that. he never could.

with a heavy sigh, he finally decided to speak up.

"you were the first thing i noticed when we all walked in here," he started, his eyes darting between yours and the wall behind you. "i.. i've wanted to talk with you for a while, i just.. couldn't. obviously."

your brows furrowed. talk with you? what was that supposed to mean?

"can you promise me you won't, like.. yell at me? or freak out?" he continued. you were starting to get a feeling of what was happening by all this and the fact he wouldn't just tell you already.

"jake, c'mon.."

"promise me."

your heart sank to your stomach. he seemed so genuine, so desperate, you felt like you shouldn't be doing this but there was no turning back now.

"..i promise."

he nodded once, slowly, and looked down at his feet.

"i still love you."

if your heart was in your stomach earlier, then it was in your ass now. you had a feeling. but those quiet, wholehearted words coming from his lips didn't anger or upset you. they were the key to a lock that you had no idea was inside of you.

you didn't want to believe it. you didn't want to face it, god, you didn't want to think about it.

"but i thought—"

"y/n, i never cheated you."

you didn't know if that sentence made you relieved, confused or utterly pissed, and maybe it was a mix of all three.

"we're not going through this again.." you sighed, running your hands over your face.

"please, fuck, let me talk," he pleaded, his voice sounding annoyed, but of which you weren't sure.

you sat back with your arms crossed. listening, but with a matching annoyed glare.

he sighed once again, looking as if he was trying to collect his thoughts and find a way to put them into words that you would understand.

"me and her were never anything. she— she tried to get me, but she wouldn't stop, and before i could cut her out, you were already leaving," he rambled desperately, trying to keep you hooked. he didn't want to risk losing you again.

"that's not true, jake, 'cause i saw you texting her back," you snapped back at him, aware of what you saw and what you knew.

he looked like it was taking every last bit of him to keep it together at this point, in every way possible.

"that wasn't me. reggie—"

"oh, so this is about reggie now?" you scoffed, especially now because jake knew you weren't just all bark no bite.

"please, y/n, listen to me," he nearly begged, his tone desperate like he couldn't deal with the weight of this on his back anymore. "you really think i would do that to you? i loved you so much, shit, i still do, i would rather die than put you through that."

his words sounded so genuine, but you didn't fold. not yet, at least.

"please, you never took time for me. you never tried. you never cared," you persisted, your arms crossed as you leaned on the back of the stool behind you.

his expression looked slightly hurt now. "you know i never wanted to be like that.." he responded, his voice quieter now. "you know my job doesn't offer much free time."

your eyes widened in disbelief, but that part in you wouldn't stop yelling over all your other thoughts. you did know that, but arrogance built a wall that wouldn't let you give into him, no matter how bad you wanted to.

"why are you trying so hard?" you asked, your brows furrowing at him. "do you want me back or something?"

jake swiftly got up from his own seat and stepped closer to you, hovering above you with his tall figure. your breath hitched and your body stiffened.

his face leaned in so close to yours, too close. your mind was screaming at you to pull away, to slap him, even, but your heart didn't want to. you could feel his breath on your face, see every detail that you had memorized by now.

how could something feel so right, yet so wrong at the same time? you didn't know, but you were basking in it.

"more than anything.." he mumbled, that deep, growly and desperate voice creeping back up his throat as his large fingers gently grasped your chin.

before you knew it, his lips were crashed down onto yours, in a hard and oh so needy kiss. nothing in you was telling you to stop anymore. you leaned into it, your mind clearing and all you wanted was to feel his body close to yours.

his hands moved to grasp your hips, his thumbs rubbing the silk of your dress underneath them. you stood up from your seat, raising yourself to get your body closer to his.

reluctantly, you both pulled away, breathless and eyes closed. jake didn't move any further back than was necessary to breathe, his lips brushing against yours. "missed you s'much.." he murmured into them, pressing another quick kiss to your mouth.

the feeling was addicting. you wanted more, but you knew you couldn't have it, not here and not without talking about this first.

with his arms now all the way around your body and your faces finally separated, you opened your eyes, looking up into his. his pupils were blown wide with adoration, his lips parted and you could tell now that everything he said was true.

"jake.." you murmured, leaning into his chest, "..what are we?"

he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, seemingly unable to get enough of you. "whatever you want to be, as long as you're mine."

if u enjoyed, please feel free to like, reblog or leave a comment! only kind comments and actual constructive criticism will be tolerated <3

check out my masterlist for more! :3

taglist: @sh4wty18

© liseytopia 2024 : do not copy, translate, or steal my work.

[spittingbloodandscreaming]

Dwayne Hoover/Cis Male Reader fluff but a smidge(insane amount) of smut would b appreciated

Haii!! :3 I finally did it yippee!! This officially starts the next era of being active

What the Hell are You Doing Here?(Dwayne Hoover x Male reader smut)

EVERYONE IS OF LEGAL AGE PINKY SWEAR

no penetrative sex!! I don't need to explain you'll see it'll make sense

You’re laying in Dwayne’s bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering how much shit you’re gonna be in for sneaking into his house. I mean, it’s not your fault you decided to bail halfway through school, right? I mean you couldn’t go home, and you just happened to know where his spare key was kept.

School gets out in about ten minutes, and counting the bus ride and the walk back from the stop, you think you have about twenty minutes until Dwayne’s home. You decide to pass the time by looking through his CD collection. After flipping through about, say, 8,000 niche rock albums you lay back down on a bed you were not invited into.

In the middle of your hardcore ceiling staring you find yourself interrupted by Dwayne opening the door to his own bedroom. Unsurprisingly, he’s just short of mortified to see you given the context. As you’re standing up to not-at-all-creepily shut the door behind him and explain yourself, you wonder briefly if what you’re doing is illegal. By the time you're back in front of him, trying to make your stance say ‘I am not crazy I promise’ as much as possible, he already has his notepad displayed.

“What the fuck are you doing here??”

“I was just about to explain,” you say, hoping your whisper yelling isn't audible outside of the room. “I skipped school, and I couldn't go home, and your house is the only one that I could get into.” God, you sound crazy, don't you?

“You're fucking CRAZY” He's still wide-eyed and pale, even though he always kinda looks like that. You sigh, not thinking there's even a point in explaining yourself anymore. Hey, at least it's not a crime?

“This is illegal.” Dwayne looks at you with a less startled, more confused, and disappointed face now. You sigh.

“Well, I didn't know, okay?” You rub your hands along the sides of your pants, trying to figure out what to say while Dwayne stands awkwardly. Probably the most uncomfortable he's been in his own room. “I can leave if you want, you just have to help me through the window.” You don't want to leave, not really, but you're like 98% sure any sane person would want you to.

But then Dwayne shakes his head, sets down his bag by the door, and sits down on his bed before scribbling something else down again.

“What the hell were you thinking?” God, how does someone's handwriting look disappointed? You shrug. You can't say anything that you haven't already. You sit down next to him on the bed, and after a while of sitting next to each other quietly, you fall back on the bed with a huff.

At some point, both of you kicked off your shoes and got on the bed properly. You're both lying next to each other, holding hands and not saying anything. This is the way things tend to go when you spend time together now, and you like it. It's a very kind, gentle quiet.

“I love you, you know.” Dwayne smiles when you say it, squeezing your hand.

You get closer together, rather quickly ending up with Dwayne’s face in the back of your neck. His breathing is soft and paced like he's scared he might run out of air. His arms are wrapped around your chest under your arms, hands feeling the sides of your ribs gently. He's so soft with his hands, just absentmindedly feeling you, just because you're there and he can. His hands start to wander down to your lower stomach, and even though he's not doing it on purpose, it is kinda getting a rise out of you. It's no big deal yet, not even when he starts rubbing your hips through your shirt. But rubbing your hips turns into messing with the hem of your shirt, and that turns into his hands underneath your shirt roaming up and down your torso. You know he doesn't mean anything by it. You know.

Something about it drives you crazy though. You try to ignore it, and at first you do. And eventually Dwayne's hands come out from under your shirt, and you let yourself relax back against him. But as the saying goes, when God closes a door, he opens a window. Dwayne moves his hands down to your thighs instead—rubbing up and down the sides and occasionally stopping to press his palms into the softer areas. After a few rounds of this, his hands move towards your inner thigh. He stills there, enjoying how warm you feel. After a few moments, he pulls his hands back up—and in doing so grazes your crotch, which brings both of your attention to the fact that his mindless petting had an unintended effect.

Dwayne pulls away out of shock, and what you assume in your head to be complete and utter disgust. You in turn curl into yourself and hide your face in your hands, trying to remember how one breathes when they aren't drowning in incurable embarrassment.

Dwayne, however, isn't disgusted, just baffled by the situation. Both the one at hand and the fact you broke into his house. But, nonetheless, he brings his arms back around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder and running his fingers over your waistband. He presses a kiss to where your shoulder meets the base of your neck and taps at where your hip bone is placed, like hes asking if he’s allowed in your pants. You nod shakily, trying to breath through the absolute wackadoodle situation you’ve got yourself in. It’s not like you don’t want to partake in homosexual sex with Dwayne, you’ve thought about it plenty of times, but you always ended up all strange and guilty feeling.

And now you feel that way more than ever. And Dwayne can definitely tell. And he pushes his hand under your waistband anyway, because he doesn't care if you're weird and anxious about it, ‘cause he's also very weird and anxious about it. You try really hard to enjoy what's happening, but you can't shut your brain off. Dwayne, though, is taking his sweet time brushing each individual finger over your crotch. You move your hand to rest over his forearm, and he pauses just long enough for you to mutter a reassurance. Dwayne continues, and you keep your hand held tight on his arm. Dwayne eventually shifts his hand up, making his way under the waistband of your underwear.

It takes exactly zero time for the feeling of Dwayne’s hand around your dick to be too much. Your mind does everything short of going white as he gently starts jerking you off. You can tell he's not exactly sure what he's doing. Really, he's just trying out a mix of what he likes and what he thinks is normal. He stops to run his thumb over your tip every once in a while, but he's not so sure about that move. You, on the other hand, are responding a lot better than he thought. Sorta. You're still death gripping his arm, neither of you would be surprised if you had drawn blood by now. Dwayne isn't sure how he's supposed to take your shaky breathing and strange high pitched gasps, and he's entirely trusting you to tell him to stop if you don't like something.

So far, though, there's nothing you don't like. You genuinely could not have envisioned a hadjob to feel this good, and you're honestly embarrassed over how your body is reacting. You're shaking, a lot, and you're not sure how long it's been that way, or how long it's been noticeable, or if it ever was noticeable. You're trying really, really hard not to cum from just this. That's possibly the most embarrassing outcome.

Your hard attempt to last longer stayed a solid attempt. As soon as you let your guard down, let yourself relax, you're suddenly very aware of Dwayne breathing against your neck, and how he's not so subtly grinding against you. That's too much for you. Way too much for you.

You tense up, trying your very best to muffle whatever sounds would come out of you, which just results in more of a long high pitched yowl. You tense up periodically for a few moments, and Dwayne smooths over your hair with his free hand. You both sit that way for a while.

The first one to move is Dwayne. He slides his jizz-covered hand out from your underwear, pausing to think about the decision he's about to make before he does it. And then he wipes his hand on your pants very unceremoniously. You fake scoff and turn on your other side. You almost say something before reiterating to yourself you broke-and-entered today, so you don't. It takes a second before you notice, based on the conveniently placed stain on his pants, that Dwayne also came embarrassingly.

You lean in to kiss Dwayne, lingering for a good count of four. When the two of you separate, he moves in to hug you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burning your head in his chest. You can't help but wonder if that counted as losing your virginity, just for a split second.

[captainpains]

Alone Time (Echo x reader)

I've never written for Echo; I decided to change that. For the @clonexreaderbingo card. Enjoy this trash 💕

Prompt: Marauder

Warnings: gn reader, established relationship, sexual activity, being interrupted, embarrassment, not beta read lol

~~~~~~~~

You were incredibly bored.

The rest of the bad batch were out on a supply run, while your boyfriend had stayed back to work on the ship. 

You stayed back too, wanting to spend time with Echo.

However, your plans were disrupted by your boyfriend actually doing work. He was incredibly focused on fixing the com system. So you sat in the cockpit with him reading a novel on your datapad. It was still spending time together, even if you were doing separate things.

“Cyare?” You looked up from your datapad. “Could you come over here and give me a hand?”

“Sure.” You went over to the control panel. 

“Just hold these wires out of my way while I remove this memory board.”

You do as you’re told, grabbing the wires from him and moving them out of the way so that Echo can see. You watched as your boyfriend carefully removed the memory component. You looked over at his face and silently admired his side profile. His jawline was strong and sloped nose was insanely attractive. You also loved his brown eyes. 

“Can you hand me that screwdriver?” 

“Of course, love.” 

“Hey now, this isn’t the time for you to get all hot and bothered.” Echo playfully chastised as he took the tool.

“How dare you accuse me of such things!” You said in mock offense. “This is a delicate operation. I could never be distracted from…”

“Uh hu, sure…” Echo rolled his eyes at your antic, but smiled all the same.

He always thought your dramatic, yet sassy comebacks were so cute. The face of fake offense you were making was equally as cute. It was always nice to have someone to joke with. It was also nice that you could be serious when the situation called for it. Your beautiful eyes also helped with his attraction to you.

Echo went back to fixing the com system. Occasionally, he would ask you to hand him a tool, but other than that, he worked in silence while you watched his hands move. There was some mild tension in the air as he felt your eyes bore into him. He already knew the reason that you stayed behind; to be able to make out in peace. 

Slowly, you began to scoot closer to your boyfriend. Echo didn’t do anything to stop it. After a couple of minutes, you were practically pressed into his side and the com system was working again. 

“You’re so good with your hands.” You complimented.

“I only have one hand, cyare.” Echo chuckled.

“Well, you’re good, love.”

“Always the flatterer.”

“But you love that about me.”

You brought your lips to his. Echo smiled as you gave him a peck. However, he wasn’t satisfied with it. He grabbed your chin to keep you from pulling away as he passionately kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and Echo’s hands migrated to your waist. He pulled you impossibly closer, gripping you like you would disappear if he let go.

You managed to pull away, opening your mouth to say something. But you were stopped when Echo laid down and pulled you over top of him. He buried his face in your neck and started to kiss your skin, all the while praising you.

“I know why you stayed back, cyare.” He mumbled against your skin, “I think I just might give you what you want…”

You let out a groan at the promise, thrilled that you’d be able to do what you’d originally planned. You started to grind down on his lap, causing Echo to let out a quiet moan. Both of you were really pent up from the lack of privacy aboard the Marauder. 

“Woah!! That’s not appropriate! There’s a kid here!” A booming voice sounded out.

You and Echo froze. Then practically jumped apart. Echo glared at Wrecker, who was laughing loudly. You hid your face in your hands and wanted to die of embarrassment.

“Wrecker…”Echo pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hey, you can’t get mad at me for interrupting ya. It’s not my fault you didn’t see my message sayin that I was comin back early.”

You let out a sigh.

You were never living this down.

[calidore]

i have no patience for a happy ending

artist!dazai x artist!chuuya academic rivals to lovers (? but not really) bsd meets mesterul manole some parts are inspired by chuuya nakahara's poetry and some quotes are also taken from there. i really recommend reading something by him ao3 link : i have no patience for a happy ending - bonefire - 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs [Archive of Our Own]

summary

chuuya and dazai are looking for inspiration for their art project. looking for inspiration doesn't go as planned and i am insane.

i don't know who is narrating this

The difference between a happy and a sad ending lies in the heart of the reader.

“Please!” the artist begged the Moon, not taking his eyes away from it. He could have shed a tear, if only there were any left.

The reason for his desperation was the painting for his master, which for the untrained mind might seem exaggerated, but for the young artist seemed like the only chance he got to impress his master; and his rival too, but that part will never leave the darkest part of his heart. For the ordinary man, the theme for the painting would not present any impediments : beauty; but for the artist, who has a peculiar hunger for beauty and grotesqueness, it seemed impossible. He has thought about every beautiful thing he has ever seen: the woods before a storm, the mountain reflected in a dead deer’s shiny eyes, the full Moon hidden behind clouds, his reflection in a pond of tears, but once he started painting them the beauty vanished. And after three sleepless nights, he had decided to ask the Moon, which should not be even the last option.

“I will do anything.”

That is something only someone who is willing to destroy themselves would say and the Moon is not merciful.

“Is there something more beautiful than the heart of a lover?”

The artist’s eyes darkened. He knew the perfect answer to this question.

The moon awaits her executioner. It was time for him to leave.

~~~

Three weeks had passed since the master gave the assignment and all Chuuya had done was ask his fellow artists about their piece. One of them was painting a watercolour self portrait using their own tears, one was carving a crown onto their head and another was writing a prayer about himself. There was only one person he had not dared to ask, even though the curiosity was eating him alive.

Chuuya stared long at the canvas in front of him and started to leave careless strokes of colour on it, hoping some sort of inspiration would come. He gave up soon and with a sight he laid on his back, looking at the stars.

Dazai was admiring the state in which he found his rival. People are most vulnerable when they are alone and looking at the stars was his favourite activity. He could spend hours recognizing each constellation, creating a different story for it each time, and counting stars until he fell asleep. If you asked him why the stars were so important to him, he would laugh and tell you that the stars became him when he stared at them.

Dazai stepped closer to Chuuya, not making any sound, which was not on purpose, but wandering around without making a noise was pretty useful, so he got used to doing it unconsciously.

“What are you doing?” Chuuya yelled at him once he realised how close Dazai was.

“I came to you with a proposal.” Dazai’s speech was composed of short and vague sentences. You always had to ask questions and continue the conversation if you wanted to get to the point of the interaction.

“I am not…” Chuuya started, but got interrupted.

“We should work together.”

“Why should we do that?”

“I believe that we would be a great inspiration to each other.”

Chuuya almost let himself believe him.

“I hardly doubt it. You see, our views on beauty are very different.” Chuuya said.

“Is that so?” Dazai was curious why his rival thought that. It seemed like they had a very different perception of their relationship.

Chuuya looked at Dazai thinking that the statement was obvious. He believed that they were different in each aspect of their lives, because they could never reach an agreement. But maybe that was because they were too similar.

“The main difference between us is that I would die for beauty. You would kill for it.” Chuuya said, and without breaking the eye contact, Dazai answered:

“I would kill it.”

Dazai gave him a smile, a smile he did not recognize. A smile that didn’t look like someone living.

Chuuya did not understand what he was trying to say, but he never understood anything Dazai was trying to tell him. Dazai’s ambiguity was far superior to his and was the only thing that kept him with an unbroken heart. Everything he does has a hidden meaning and purpose, and it seems like sometimes not even Dazai knows what they are; that’s where his power and mis(t)ery lies.

“But that is even better. Rivals bring more interesting things out of each other than lovers do. Tomorrow is gonna be a full moon. I’ll meet you under the willow tree.”

And without getting a chance to answer back, Chuuya looked at Dazai’s figure disappearing into the dark.

~~~

The willow tree was Chuuya’s favourite, and secret, spot. It was perfect to watch the moon on sleepless nights and he didn’t like the idea of sharing such a spot with anyone, let alone with Dazai. But he did not have a choice. He had to meet with him if he wanted to finish his work.

The moon had taken its place as a viewer when Chuuya arrived. And with the moon so high, looking after every soul, he felt safe; as safe as a character would feel in the hands of an author. Dazai was nowhere to be found.

“You actually came.” The voice came unexpectedly from behind. Chuuya turned around to see a grinning Dazai.

“Surprised? You know, most people are actually truthful.”

Dazai chuckled at his statement. It was true, he preferred to lie than to tell the truth. Lies were easier, safer, more interesting. He held the belief that language was invented by the need of humans to lie to each other.

“Now can you tell me why you brought me here?” Chuuya asked.

“To help you with your art piece.”

“What about yours?”

Dazai stepped closer to him. He was now only inches away from him and Chuuya could clearly see his eyes; they looked like the starless sky.

“I’m actually almost done.”

“You are?”

“Yes. I titled it `Dying Youth Under the Willow Tree`.”

They were staring at each other with a look that said “I would set the world on fire”; one to keep the other warm and the other just to watch everything burn. That right there was their little world. A world neither of them dared to touch, let alone destroy. Their little world, perfect in its inexistence.

They stayed like this for a while because neither could touch the fragility of this silent agreement between them. But when entrusting to someone, you have to take into consideration any possibility of betrayal, because the likelihood of treason gets higher when the heart is distracted. And if it wasn’t for the warm blood dripping on his chest he probably wouldn’t have realised that his ache was caused by hand, not by heart.

The deeper Chuuya’s knife went, the more painful Dazai’s heartache became.

Tears fell down his cheeks, tears which could as well be tears of love, but who am I to say how tears of love should look like.

Chuuya laid down his body so he could see the stars and soon enough he will become one of them.

~~~

The next morning a new painting was exhibited. It was a painting of a heart. The red used was so rich and bloody that any artist would question its origin.

At the bottom of the painting was written “a place to hide secrets”.

[bridgyrose]

Part 2 of the Sentient Weapons AU?

(Lets have some fun)

Ruby tapped her foot on the ground as she leaned against the wall of the inn while she waited for Yang and Blake to meet up with her. It was strange for Yang to call her back from a mission, even more so for her to be late after insisting that Ruby come back. And yet, here she waited while Weiss and Penny restocked for another venture out into the forest. 

“Maybe she’s just running late,” Crescent Rose suggested. “I’m sure something had to come up-” 

“The village is just a couple houses, a market, townhall, and farms,” Ruby interrupted as she spoke in a hushed whisper. “Its almost impossible to run late here, much less get side tracked with anything. And with the way Yang sounded, it must’ve been urgent to get us back here.” 

“I still think she’s just running late.” 

Ruby shook her head and checked her scroll. “She’s never been this late unless she’s found trouble.” 

“What trouble could she have found already?” 

“I dont know, grimm?” Ruby put her scroll away and grumbled a bit as she pulled away from the wall and walked outside the inn to check for Yang. It had been almost an hour since Yang had asked her to meet her here, but with no sign of her in sight, she wondered if she had misheard her. “I should go find her.” 

“You should listen and wait for her.” 

“She’s already late!” Ruby let out a heavy sigh and a low growl. “Why am I even arguing with you? You’re just a weapon.” 

“A weapon that knows you just as well as you know yourself!” Crescent Rose retorted. “And we both know the second you go out looking for Yang, you’re going to find yourself in trouble.” 

Ruby huffed and leaned against the wall of the inn again. Of course Crescent Rose was right, trouble always did seem to find her when she was least expecting it and leaving now would just make things worse. Though, arguing with her weapon didnt seem to be helping either. 

She finally started to relax when she caught sight of Yang walking over, a small smile crossed her lips as she walked over. “I thought you said you’d be here an hour ago.” 

“I tried to be on time,” Yang said as she rubbed her arm a bit. “Guess I lost track of time.” 

“Why did you ask for us to come back anyway?” 

“I’m going to sound insane but… Ember Celica said the grimm are just distracting us.” 

Ruby pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “That could’ve been a phone call. But… it does make sense with how they’ve been popping up all over.” 

Yang paused. “You’re just going to accept that? No question about Ember Celica talking?” 

“I’d say it’d be strange if Crescent Rose wasnt talking to me too. Any ideas who might be causing the attacks.” 

“It could be Cinder,” Crescent Rose suggested. 

“And she disappeared,” Ruby retorted in a hushed whisper. 

“Everything okay, Ruby?” Yang asked. 

Ruby nodded and pulled out her scroll. “Crescent Rose thinks its Cinder but… I dont know, we havent seen any activity from her in months. And Ozpin is sure that whoever she’s working for isnt much of a threat right now.” 

“Maybe we should worry about why our weapons are talking first before doing anything about the grimm.” 

“We can worry about our weapons later-” 

“Ruby, our weapons can talk!” Yang growled out. “Why arent you more freaked out about this? We should be focused on finding out why they’re suddenly sentient and figure out how to fix this.” 

Ruby sighed and pulled Crescent Rose off her back. She ran a gentle hand across her weapon as she stared into her reflection. “This… this is practically a dream come true. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to be able to talk to Crescent Rose like a person. And she and I have already been working like a team.” 

“Yeah but… doesnt it bother you to have a voice whisper in the back of your mind?” 

“Its… different, but… you, Blake, and Weiss figure out what’s going on with our weapons and I’ll handle the grimm.” 

“You cant go alone.” 

“I wont be alone.” Ruby put Crescent Rose on her back again. “Besides, you can trust me.” 

“Fine, but… if you see Cinder, call us.” 

Ruby nodded and rushed off in a flurry of rose petals, the small smile she had faded into a frown as she made her way to the closest known pack of grimm. First she’d deal with the grimm, then find out what caused her weapon to talk. After all, she didnt want to lose a wish come true.

[heavenisblue]

Do you guys ever feel extremely alone? That's a stupid question, everybody feels like that at one point in their life. Today I feel so alone and I truly am. I have friends but I don't have friends. I can't tell them when I feel down because it's all jokes and it can't be anything but jokes. I'm tired for longing for something so simple as a friend. I think my longing for a friend keeps on getting mixed up with my longing to be truly loved.

Sometimes I make up stories in my mind about the way I imagined being loved. I imagine us getting to know each other in a library, we'd be quietly studying or reading next to each other for as long as it takes either of us to muster the courage to talk to each other. We always meet each other at the same time, same spot, and leave at the same time. I'd like to imagine that he waits until I get picked up so that he could leave. I'd always look at the side mirrors of the car until his figure disappears from my vision because he'll always be there in my mind. After some time, I finally manage to ask him what he's studying for. I feel bad because what if I'm distracting him but all possible bad thoughts melt away when he looks up from his notes and shows me the sweet smile. The way his nose scrunches which causes his glasses to move up in the slightest movement and his dimples. God his dimples. We start a short conversation about the subject he's studying for when he asks me if I would like to take a break with him and get something to eat at the nearby convenience store. I say yes immediately and maybe faster than I would have liked to but it doesn't matter to him or me really. We rather our things and we walk to the convenience store. It's only a 3 minute walk but it feels like 3 seconds we talked about school and what classes we're taking and how hard some of them are. I find out he's one year older than me so he offers help in the classes he took last year. When we arrive at the convenience store we sat our things down at the little two seat dinning area. There was only us, the cashier, and some man buying cigarettes and lottery tickets. He picked out an unsweetened iced tea and a chicken wrap. I picked out the sweetened ice tea, a chicken wrap, and a chocolate bar. We each paid and sat down. Our conversation continues with school related things like what clubs we're in and what our plans for after school are. He speaks so passionately about his future it leaves me in awe because I couldn't sound that passionately about anything I wanted to even if I tried. The conversation soon starts to fade into our interests and life outside of school which I don't really have much of. He likes to bike, play with his dog, watch sitcoms, and he also mentioned he recently started to workout and hopes that it becomes a routine for him. It's amazing how memorized I am by the sound of his voice. I open my chocolate bar and offer him some but he declines. I tell him how I have a pretty big sweet tooth and love sweets and he just smiles and nods at me. He goes and throws away our trash, I check the time while he's gone and notice my sisters on her way to pick me up soon so I should get going. When he returns we start to pick up our things and head back to the library. On the walk there I ask him what type of music he enjoys and he says that he doesn't listen to much. He just listens to whatever is around him. This stumps me a bit because I always listen to music and at this point it's apart of my whole existence. I ask for his number or social anything that he's comfortable with giving me and we swap numbers and Instagrams. He shares he's not that active on Instagram so that's why he also gave me his number. I find that nice considering I'm constantly on my Instagram posting meaningless stories about me going insane. I see my sister's car arriving so we bid our goodbyes to each other. He gives me that same gorgeous smile.

When I get home I get a text message from who I assume is him.

Sorry for interrupting any studying that you had planned tonight, can't promise I won't do it again though. Sorry if that was straightforward I had a really good time tonight lol. Sleep well and I'll hopefully see you again tomorrow.

My heart was racing I knew I had to respond but how.

Me: I had a good time as well, goodnight. See you tomorrow lol.

My apologies for this monstrosity 💀 as you can tell writing isn't for me 🙏🏻 no pues que "book blog". Its 4:36 am rn and I can't promise this will be the last time I write about something like this 🤯 I didn't mean to write a whole ass fanfiction. This is my first fanfiction and my last one as well!!

Sorry for all the spelling and grammar mistakes because I can't proof read this or I'll get too embarrassed and delete it.

This is the song I was listening to while writing this post.

[dzpenumbra]

7/28/23

Alright. 3AM and here I am. I got a full night's sleep last night. Waking up and seeing the afternoon light was a relief. I'm hoping that will soon be... a thing of the past.

Let me elaborate. I had therapy today. I timed the start of my day so that I didn't do yoga or anything before therapy, I actually pretty much started my day with it. I did dishes and broke out my brand new teapot to make a pot of jasmine tea. I thawed some frozen strawberries - this bag unfortunately was not a great batch. I ate a bowl of cereal and played Mini Motorways for a bit. But the big thing was... I started my day with therapy.

The teapot... was a bit of a mistake, to be honest. Not in getting it, it will be a perfect addition when I finally do literally anything social in-person at my house. Something I had given up on ages ago in the past. But... what noticed today was that... just drinking two cups of tea was... too much. I got too much caffeine in my system from just two cups of tea. How fucking crazy is that. After only a couple days of not even a cold-turkey caffeine detox, just cutting down from a pot of black coffee to one cup of tea. The difference was staggering. I guarantee 2 weeks ago I could've drank the entire pot of tea and barely felt anything.

So, that's a thing I need to be mindful of. I made a point to go into therapy without a plan today. I was curious to see what would come out of it naturally. Unsurprisingly, some stuff from my journal entry last night about my social anxiety and panic and its origins/maturation and all that came up. But a surprising amount of stuff about... sleep. My lack of sleep, sleep interruption, my sleep schedule, what I've historically done about sleep. He made sure to be very delicate about it, but was urging me to try to bring my sleep schedule back a bit. And honestly, I want to. I genuinely don't know what's holding me back.

I say this at 3AM. 3AM is a very normal time for me to be awake. I just spent like 15 minutes in my kitchen cleaning my stove and washing dishes, and I had to actively stop myself. These late-night/early morning hours are very unique, hours that the layman rarely sees at any point in their life. Fucking think about that, how weird is that? The average person, in fact... the vast majority of people... can go their whole lives and only see between 2-4AM a handful of times. On super rare occasions, like being sick or having nightmares or if they have an infant child that needs care, or in extreme emergencies, or a super quick bathroom sprint. And I've seen that entire stretch from midnight to dawn every fucking day for well over 4 years. Every day. It's where almost every one of these journal entries was written, it's where a lot of my artwork has been made.

So... why? Why? XD Why do I sleep during the day... and stay up until dawn? I. Don't. Know.

I legit asked my therapist directly to please help me explore this next week. I honestly don't know. I'm struggling to connect the dots. Is this a thing like, "well, I just drink caffeine, don't ask me why... it's just what I do"? Is it because it's insanely quiet and still - like just the sounds of the occasional cricket or the rare nocturnal hunt? Is it because everyone else is asleep, and I'm... avoiding them? Meaning like... I finally have the world to myself and won't be bothered? ... I don't know, because I really don't have the world to myself... I have to be super quiet during the night. It's one thing to be loud and shit during the day... it's a whole other ball-game to disturb your neighbors at 3AM. Am I afraid of going to sleep in the dark? Genuinely unsure on that one. I don't really feel like I am. And I have night lights... I think it might just be... unfamiliar. Like working out was.

Here's an interesting thought I had earlier... am I sleeping during the day because that's when people aren't in the building? ... Like... everyone is away during the day, at their jobs or school or whatever. So... that's the time when the building is the emptiest. Can I like... sense (subconsciously) the presence of this many people in close proximity to me? And like... maybe when I'm sleeping, do I feel safer when I'm around less people? It's an interesting angle, but I don't know.

Or is it really not this complicated. I really think it might be as simple as... I'm just not used to sleeping at night. And I really have no dire need to be awake at a certain hour... Though it would be convenient, I would have plenty of time to skate, without having to rush. I could take day trips to the lake or the beach or go explore weird hippie shops and shit. I could go on adventures. I could go be out in the world! But when am I going to do 4-hours straight of painting? How do I fit that into my day, too?

Yeah, maybe there isn't some big subconscious reasoning. Maybe it's just... what I got used to. Maybe dawn is the only marker because... its the only timekeeper I listen to. When I see 4AM, it doesn't mean much to me. When I see the sun coming up, I go... "oh shit, yeah, I gotta wrap it up." I guess kinda like what sunset is for a lot of people.

So yeah, maybe this is just a matter of habit. Just a super big and super broad habit.

I had to remind myself today that in 2019, I was living in a house with 11 other people. I was sharing a room, first with one other person almost 10 years older than me, then with 2 people 10 years younger. It was super alien and uncomfortable and I struggled with it a lot, but I managed to make it work enough to function and adjusted surprisingly quickly. I had some sleep struggles there, but only because I was staying up until 2AM. That's peanuts compared to what I'm doing now. Back then, I was waking up at around 8 or 9 so I could make a 10AM appointment 2 times a week. But I was steadily waking up in AM. And that was not that long ago... it was only... 4... years ago... Damn, the pandemic really fucked up time, didn't it.

So... I guess a lot of my big dramatic problems are... still residual pandemic problems. Scared to be in close proximity to other people, and kinda masking that as... don't want to be "overwhelmed emotionally"... or "don't want to involuntarily do something to offend people". Maybe my panic brain is bringing that shit out because it knows I'll listen. When really... it's "I don't want to get sick and die." Because... people just don't talk about the virus anymore, like it just doesn't fucking exist. Like it just went away. And I don't have social interactions, so... I'm kinda... frozen in time? And I never evolved new social habits because... I don't have anyone else built in to practice with. So... I guess I'm kinda still in quarantine, kinda?

I mean... I'm vaccinated so I don't really know what I'm worried about. I'm just... I haven't really been to any kind of in-person thing involving more than just family members in almost 4 years. I've been to doctors, I've been to therapy, I've gone to dinner with family. I don't know, I haven't like... hung out with a group of people since before the pandemic. And it's super alien, and... that same word keeps coming up over and over and over - overwhelming. The idea of it is overwhelming. But I crave it so much. And it's essential for my personal and professional growth.

I used to go to concerts at small venues where you'd just be packed in there like sardines, feeling the energy of the crowd. Now? No way in hell I'd do that. I might stand on the side by the wall and listen to the music... Huh... Maybe this is pandemic shit.

I've been trying to put this in context of why I have been skipping and kinda avoiding... excusing myself... from going to these regular live model drawing sessions at the art collective a block away from my apartment. I've known about and missed 2 drawing sessions and a small concert to raise money for flood victims. Let me just uncork the old noggin real quick and unload all the reasons I came up with to not go. So I can hear how exaggerated (I wanted to say "stupid" but I'm really trying not to beat myself up so much) they are.

I didn't want to go because I haven't done figure drawing, let alone figure drawing from life... in a very long time. Like... since college. I did some figure drawing studies in 2020 and 2021, from photographs. I haven't done figure drawing from life since college. And... yeah, honestly? I think that's the big bad one. I'm a tiny bit self-conscious about how I smell because I stopped wearing deodorant like 6 years ago, it kept fucking with my skin and I don't like the idea of putting weird chemicals into my skin when I don't really know what effects they'll have, especially for cosmetic purposes. But I'm really not that concerned about that one, I mean... if I'm wearing beads and hemp jewelry, you can expect a little B.O. and you can get the fuck over yourself, you stink too. We all do. And I make sure I shower and perfume very soon before being around people, so I really don't think that's an issue, it's never been brought to my attention as being a big one. I am a bit self-conscious about my skin condition. It's like acne, but all over my scalp to varying degrees, in addition to some face acne. I have been self-conscious about this for a while. But I just can't bring myself to wear a hat to hide it. I just can't allow myself that crutch, it feels like giving a loaded gun to my shame. And I've been going out regularly and honestly, once I get out there I really don't think about it. On my last walk, I had mosquitos fucking gravitating towards them because they're like radar beacons of heat, but I passed by several people and the insecurity really didn't linger in my head more than a fleeting thought. If someone's going to judge me for something I can't help, when I can't even get a doctor's appointment until December? They can fuck off. I've been a little afraid that I might... be socially awkward? From just... lack of practice... But my therapy sessions prove that completely wrong... and my interactions with the girl who works for the building and the maintenance guy prove that wrong. And streaming does too. And my passing body-language interactions with people in the world prove that wrong. I'm just... kinda in my own world out there. But not in an anti-social way. In the way that a 7 year old is in their own world, because they're just utterly fascinated by the shape of these leaves over here... or this rock they found... but if you approach them, they're cool with chatting. Hell, they'll tell you all about it! So... I'm not so much insecure about my ability to communicate... I'm just worried that I won't make the most out of the opportunity. That I will meet some people but... not connect, not have it turn into friends. Because I'm too passive. I don't know.

So... of all of that... I think the insecurity about my drawing ability... and my insecurity with being too passive and just sorta... being at the school dance but standing on the sidelines and waiting for someone to approach me? Because I'm a bit shy...? Those are the big ones. The others are kinda just fleeting thoughts. How to address this? If I make figure drawing an anatomical study... or a study of breaking down the body into simple interrelated shapes... I could go on, you get what I mean? If I make this a study... rather than... I'm here to show these people my chops... as though I have to... impress them or something? First impression moments, man... that's gotta be what this is. Ugh... But yeah, if I focus on treating this as an opportunity to learn about anatomical structures... like trying to draw the person's skeleton rather than their skin... or their muscle structures in certain parts of their body that are flexed or rotated when they're in specific poses. Or just breaking down complex forms into simpler shapes so I can sorta... develop gestural shortcuts for future figure drawing... Then this can be sort of an... autodidactic class. A class where I'm teaching myself. Not just me showing up and being this incredibly talented artist and drawing the person and then people look at it and go "wow, that's really good" and I get embarrassed and proud at the same time. Good lord, engaging with these anxieties is so fucking important, this paragraph has turned me completely 180 on this. I absolutely can see the value in going to that drawing session now, it's worth well more than $15 for 2 hours. Plus, I get to potentially meet new people.

See... that's what I did. I put too much emphasis on meeting new people and making a good impression. If I have a secondary goal... I can come out of there with a win no matter what. Not that it's winning or losing... but I hope you know what I mean. If I go there with the exclusive goal of making new friends... there's a good chance that even if it goes well, I might not make a new best friend. And that puts a ton of invisible pressure on myself and on other people, that they're not even aware of. I really should be going for the experience. And make an effort to socialize. But really... just get an experience.

Goddamn. I'm just like... the concept of walking up to a stranger, or a group of strangers, at a trivia night at a bar? That shit is so fucking alien to me right now. I just immediately get a huge reflex that just starts laughing at the absurdity of that. Me. Walking up to a beautiful woman at a bar and asking to buy her a drink. XD Right... I'm in the corner booth sitting crosslegged on the bench seat drawing zentangles on a coaster. That's the character I am. I don't like being that forward. It makes me uncomfortable.

And yet... I rely on others to be that forward... Figure that one out... XD

I'm just gonna explore this one before I turn in, I really want to get a shower in before I go to bed. The time before last at the skatepark, a kid came by. I say kid, he was probably in his early 20's. He was on the other side of the park the entire time. I had headphones in, he had headphones in. He stayed on his side of the park, I stayed on mine. (To be fair, the only obstacles I wanted to skate were on the side I was on.) We didn't speak the entire time. We barely made eye contact. Can I... challenge myself... next time I'm at the skatepark... to go up to someone specifically for the purpose of saying hi? To introduce myself? I mean, I wave to passersby a lot. I smile a ton. I feel like I'm approachable enough. I wonder if I could challenge myself, set some goals... to like... go up to strangers and introduce myself and get to know something about them. Without "being weird" about it, since that keeps popping up in my head.

I did not grow up with good role models for this. But I know how to do it. I've done it in the past. And I really need to remember this part. I have done it in the past and it did not go poorly. It's just very alien to me, and it's not something I have really identified as behavior I would do. Like sending food back at a restaurant, or returning something I bought, or getting something fixed by my landlord. They are things that I am capable of doing logistically, in action, but they are not comfortable actions. They are things I do very rarely, and they feel... risky? They feel liable to upset people. And... my compassion gets hijacked by my self-protective anxiety and goes "oh, you really shouldn't upset those people, it's not that bad." Like the creaky floorboards.

That same "protective" voice says "don't be weird and go over and bother that kid." Because a 36 year old skateboarder saying hi and introducing himself and complimenting another skateboarder is... weird... apparently... and will upset them? Okay, let me turn the tables then... if a 45 year old skateboarder came up to me and complimented me, would I think it was weird? No... I would make a new friend. I'm just... I guess this is where the trauma comes in... I'm aware now that not everyone reacts the same way. And a lot of people in my life... A LOT of people... reacted in ways that did not make sense. And my compassion... got confused, and now kinda short-circuits and struggles to read peoples' reactions properly and tries to play it safe? I guess? Like... "this could go really well, it could be just a normal everyday human interaction, or it could go really bad. Really bad is the new one, we didn't know it could go like this, but god fucking damn did we learn. So... is the benefit worth the potential cost? It is worth the risk? To upset them? To hurt them?" And the answer comes out to be... "play it safe, avoid. Just smile from a distance and let them make the first move."

You know what they say. All great things come from playing it as safe as possible and not taking any risks at all. (That's sarcasm, in case you couldn't read the tone, it's actually the opposite.)

Man... Social anxiety and trauma can get so fucking weird when they mix. Weird because... the logic doesn't appear to make sense... but in the context of the narrative of my outlandish traumatic experiences... it makes a convincing enough argument to end up like this. Welp, the good news? ... Isn't that what gospel means? Good news? XD Welp, here's an excerpt from the Book of DZ for the day - I have made enough progress in developing my self-awareness to be able to detect these... hang-ups? Insecurities? Limitations? I don't even really have a good word for them. Challenges, I guess? And, more recently, I can actually... see myself performing healthier, more social actions. Well, I can see a hypothetical person doing these things. Like I can write stage directions and script a scene where a person that I would be playing would walk up and introduce himself at the skatepark. "Hey, you're really consistent with that tre flip. Is that a favorite trick of yours? Oh, my names _____ by the way." I've done it before, too. I just really wish... I felt excited to have those interactions... rather than dreading them.

Back around college graduation and the few years following, I used to do this thing I called "emotional alchemy"... where I would try to take the physical sensation of stage fright and channel it directly into excitement. Into pure, excited, "I'm pumped" excitement. I'd be back stage just like jumping around and moshing with my bandmates and putting all that adrenaline into exuberance. I have no idea where I got that idea from. But it worked.

Maybe I need to re-learn how to embrace the adrenaline. Embrace the excitement. The Ace of Cups. That's it. The Ace of fucking Cups. The gigantic burst of emotions that you get on a first date. Or a first kiss. Or your first speech in front of a crowd. Or, for the fellow recluses out there, going to the fucking grocery store. XD Or riding on a subway train or something.

This is the last thing, I promise. I mentioned this in therapy. This idea that like... what I'm dealing with are just big emotions. Intense feelings and they can get really sensory overwhelming. But it honestly hasn't been that bad recently. Walking yesterday was not bad at all. At all. Very little, if any overwhelming anxiety. I was just... joyous and childlike. But there's something about the Ace of Cups that just... throws me off. Like I'm afraid of a giant surge of ANY emotion. As though... they're bad. Because of how intense they are. Oooo oh, like how I'm kinda... if I were to find a romantic partner, I would really... need to easy my way into any form of physical contact. And I mean... even hugs. Because of how much of a fucking sensory overload it is. It makes my entire body seize up, literally. I wince. So... there's a reflexive component to this... like preparing yourself to dip into an ice-cold river. It's not going to hurt you, it's not bad... in fact, it can even be good... but it's a shock to the system. Like eating a slice of cake when you haven't eaten sugar in 5 years. Or drinking two cups of tea instead of one today. XD

So... I guess my approach here is to reassure myself that the shock to the system is not that bad, as long as you just relax and ride it out and try to just... see it as another experience. An intense life experience. And in a way, I would like to end up in a place where I am... in an odd way... grateful that I get to experience the little things in life that people all around me take so... for granted... that I get to experience these things so fully.

I go walking and I'm am constantly in awe. I think I'm the only person out in the city walking around and looking up. The architecture is very interesting and alien to me. And the lighting effects of light reflecting off brick and cast iron and other different materials. And the engineering and artistry. And so many different types of plants, in so many unique different types and growth configurations. And the constant flow of water in the river, and just picturing the currents and thinking of how long it took for the rocks to erode. And god, seeing animals is so lovely, I miss it so much and cherish it every time I get to. Birds, rabbits, beavers. I love that experience. And I really do feel blessed that I have reached a point in my personal growth to be able to genuinely appreciate and find joy in so many things. It makes every day an adventure. This overwhelm is just a byproduct of me... experiencing life with the gain turned way up. And sometimes it feels like a lot, even when it isn't bad or harmful. It's just... a lot. So... I'm trying to be self-compassionate about that limitation, but also remind myself that emotional overwhelm isn't necessarily harmful, and subsequently... doesn't necessarily need to be avoided for "personal safety".

Okay, 4:30... still gotta read this back. Not bad. Might even make it to bed before daybreak.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

Game of Thrones - 31 TYRION IV (pages 314-327)

Tyrion, Catelyn and their slap-dash party head into the Vale to see Tyrion face justice for a crime he didn't commit. Bad times are had by all.

-

All his life, Tyrion had prided himself on his cunning, the only gift the gods had seen fit to give him, and yet this seven-times-damned she-wolf Catelyn Stark had outwitted him at every turn. The knowledge was more galling than the bare fact of his abduction.

>:3 ehehehehe Ah, Catelyn, the old 'publicly announce we're going one way and then actually go the other way' trick. Nice. I just really wish we hadn't gotten to this point.

"How many times must I swear to that? Lady Stark, whatever you may believe of me, I am not a stupid man. Only a fool would arm common padfoot with his own blade."

And we all know Tyrion is hording the majority of the Lannister Brain allowance. Unlike Joffrey who said 'no thanks' to his portion. Another point in Tyrions favour? He's a dwarf, he constantly mentions his physical pains that result from activities many people accept as typical tasks, he's basically got chronic pain and mobility issues. Of all the Lannisters, he's the least likely to off someone for perceived illness and/or disabilities.

"Why would Petyr lie to me?" "Why does a bear shit in the woods?" he demanded. "Because it is his nature. Lying comes as easily to breathing to a man like Littlefinger. You ought to know that, you of all people." She took a step toward him, her face tight. "And what does that mean, Lannister?" Tyrion cocked his head. "Why, every man at court had heard him tell how he took your maidenhead, my lady."

Petyr is a despicable little creep. I know (from meta) that he genuinely believes it, that it was Catelyn and not Lysa that time, but damn. Don't go telling people you de-virgined her. Though I suppose we all know he doesn't love or respect her, he's just obsessed with her, so of course he doesn't care about any damage to her reputation. Only the bolster to his own, and his ego.

Ser Rodrik shouted "Winterfell!" and rode to meet him, with Bronn and Chiggen beside him, screaming some wordless battle cry. Ser Willis Wode followed, swinging a spike morningstar around his head. "Harrenhal! Harrenhal!" he sang. Tyrion felt the sudden urge to leap up, brandishing his axe, and boom out "Casterly Rock!" but the insanity passed quickly and he crouched down lower.

ah, the part where everyone channels their inner Pokémon. Good on Tyrion for knowing his own abilities and when to not do the thing.

Tyrion put the heel on the grasping fingers and felt a satisfying crunch. "Close your eyes and pretend you're dead," he advised the singer before he hefted the axe and turned away.

On the one hand: HA! Karma bitch! On the other hand: Ohhhhh, Tyrion has a mean streak, and it is scary vicious.

She had a dagger clutched awkwardly in her maimed hands, but her back was to the rock now and they had her penned on three sides. Let them have the bitch, Tyrion thought, and welcome to her, yet somehow he was moving.

Because despite your best efforts, you're a good man at heart.

"As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted," Tyrion began, "there is a serious flaw in Littlefinger's fable. Whatever you may believe of me, Lady Stark, I promise you this - I never bet against my family."

I love how that says so much about him, but how it also sounds so ominous.

This whole arc just pisses me off so much, because Catelyn is acting emotionally yes, but she's also acting with the information she has, which unfortunately for her, is about as real as hair on a Hutt.

I really feel like after Littlefinger told her the knife's origin she didn't double check with Santagar or whatever his name was. it doesn't even matter if you trust your source in a murder investigation: verify

Maybe your source thinks they're telling you the truth but has bad information, maybe they're actually a lying sack of shit who want to cause a civil war so he can off your husband and free you up for a second marriage.

[comfortbucky]

hey hey! can u do some fluffy bucky about having to share a hotel room w u and there’s only one bed!!!! and he’s trying to be respectful n stuff but man does he have the fattest crush on u! thank u <333

HEY HEY YES OMFGGG THE ONE BED TROPE (ur mind😌🤝)

i’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE I DIDN’T EXPECT IT TO COME SO SOON

𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗱, 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗼𝘁𝘀 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚

pairing: bucky x fem!avenger!reader

tags: enemies(?) to lovers BABYYYY, angst, fluff

A/N: i almost always write about tfatws!bucky in mind but let me try and branch out by writing about avenger!bucky hehe

i hope u enjoy🥺💗i absolutely loved this prompt and loved writing this!!!! (it is almost 4am for me as i am posting this :) i’m insane :))

this oneshot will not be following the canon timeline!

word count: 2k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

“Stick to the plan, Y/N.” Steve’s voice came through over the intercom. She rolled her eyes at his warning. He always seemed to be extra cautious with her, making her feel like an unimportant member of the team, and this mission was no different.

“I got this,” she said, completely ignoring his request and charging headfirst at the enemy. Her brash decision resulted in her receiving a heavy beat down, ending up with a split lip and fractured ribs.

Needless to say, Steve was pissed. He and Y/N developed a close friendship over the years, during his search for Bucky. She was oftentimes the one who would stay up all night with him, looking for any trace of Bucky’s existence online. She’d become one of the closest people in his life, which is exactly why he was upset with her, endangering her own life.

After the mission, he confronted her at the base camp.

“You could’ve gotten killed!”

“But I didn’t,” she snapped back. “And the mission was a success anyways, so I don’t get why you’re so mad right now.”

Steve closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“It’s reckless behavior like this that’s eventually going to get you killed, Y/N.”

Bucky walked into the room and immediately regretted his decision as soon as he laid his eyes on Y/N. He’d come to foster an animosity towards her, after seeing her close friendship with Steve. After Bucky joined the Avengers, he noticed how much time they spent together, and jealousy started to fester within him. Steve was the only person he felt comfortable being around in the tower and she constantly took him away from Bucky. Everyone else seemed to have an aversion to him, or so he assumed. He never gave anyone the chance to get to know him, locking himself up in his room most hours of the day. Bucky didn’t think anyone would want to get to know an ex-assassin, especially one that killed the Tony Stark’s parents. She was the one thing that kept Steve away from him and he despised it. So Bucky did what he did best and avoided any sort of interaction with her.

Steve looked at Bucky and suddenly, an idea popped in his head. He had noticed how closed-off Bucky had been since joining the Avengers and refused to let Y/N be alone, worried that she might make another brazen decision. He hatched a plan to kill 2 birds with 1 stone.

“Bucky,” Steve said, making his way over to him. “You and Y/N will be assigned to the same room tonight.”

Bucky choked on his own spit in response and Y/N began to protest.

“You’re not serious, right?” Steve turned to face her with a stern expression.

“You’re not giving me any reason to trust you to be alone.” She let out a defeated sigh and crossed her arms across her chest.

“Why me?” Bucky asked, trying to figure out how he ended up in this situation.

Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Because I trust you, Buck. I need you to do this for me.”

Bucky could see the desperation in Steve’s eyes and reluctantly nodded.

Steve was able to obtain another key card to the hotel room that Y/N was assigned to for the mission. He forgot to take into account the logistics of the sleeping arrangements, leaving Bucky to find a single bed as he entered Y/N’s room.

Bucky froze, his right hand on the door handle, keeping it open, his left hand by his side, holding his duffel bag. He racked his brain, trying to figure out what to do, when Y/N’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Relax,” she started, motioning for him to come inside. “I’ll sleep on the floor, alright?”

Y/N knew that Bucky didn’t like her, despite Steve trying to convince her otherwise. It hurt her feelings a bit, especially after she’d learned so much about him through both Steve’s stories and the time she spent tracking him down. He was such an important person to Steve, her close friend, and Bucky hated her. At first, she figured he was shy and wasn’t ready to open up to anyone else, especially after all the trauma he endured. But she realized he actively disliked her over time, with Bucky always leaving the room when she entered or ignoring her offers to hang out with her and Steve. Eventually, she gave up on reaching out to Bucky, as she only seemed to upset him further, no matter what she did. She figured it was for the best.

Bucky stepped into the room and shook his head.

“Bed’s too soft for me anyways, I’ll take the floor,” he grumbled.

Y/N shrugged in response, knowing that Bucky would be too stubborn to try and argue against. She turned around and picked up the phone, calling the front desk to ask for extra blankets and pillows. When she hung up the phone, she turned back to Bucky to see him nod in thanks.

The rest of the night was silent, as they both prepared for bed, taking turns going into the bathroom to wash up and change. While Y/N was in the bathroom, Bucky arranged the extra blankets and pillows into a makeshift bed on the ground, something that he’d done countless times before. Y/N exited the bathroom in an oversized t-shirt that covered her shorts, and placed her toiletries bag in one of the hotel dresser drawers.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Bucky grunted in response, grabbing some clothes and a bag headed for the bathroom.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he stated, just before shutting the door behind him. Y/N scoffed at his comment, gently climbing into bed, in an attempt to not further injure her ribs. She winced as she tried to get into a comfortable position before settling to sleep on the side of her unaffected ribs.

Bucky emerged from the bathroom to see Y/N lying on her left side, her back towards him. He assumed that she had already fallen asleep and quietly crawled into his makeshift bed.

Approximately 10 minutes had passed, when he heard her sniffling. At first, he thought the noise was coming from outside the window, but he traced it back to her. He remained lying on his back for a moment, deciding whether or not to say something. Bucky sighed before speaking.

“You okay?” Y/N immediately stiffened upon hearing Bucky’s voice. She was hoping that he wouldn’t hear her crying, despite his super soldier hearing abilities.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied back, her voice wavering as she spoke. Y/N hated how weak and pathetic she sounded in that moment. Her fractured ribs made it hard for her to breathe and the adrenaline, that was previously shielding her from the pain, had faded, leaving her to lie there in agony. On top of that, she also felt that this mission solidified her belief that Steve had little faith in her ability to be an Avenger. The last thing she wanted to do right now, was to confess her insecurities to Bucky.

Bucky’s attitude softened, hearing Y/N’s voice crack when she spoke. He knew she’d gotten hurt due to her own, dumb, decision during the mission. Bucky quietly pulled his blankets off and stood up, leaving the room without saying another word. As soon as the door shut, Y/N burst into tears. Bucky did exactly as he’d done in the past many times before, leave. She wasn’t sure why this time upset her more than the rest. Probably because she knew that he was aware of her crying and he’d still chosen to abandon her completely.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, causing her to stop crying. Y/N listened to Bucky’s footsteps growing closer, and felt the bed dip under his weight as he sat on the edge she was facing towards. She peered over the blanket she was covering her face with, to see Bucky facing her, holding a bag of ice, wrapped in a towel. Bucky’s heart sank at the sight of her glossy eyes and tear stained cheeks in the moonlight.

“For your ribs,” he spoke softly, gesturing to the ice bag in his hands.

“Oh. Thank you.”

Y/N took the bag from him, attempting to slowly sit up. She closed her eyes as she grimaced, and suddenly felt a hand on her back, helping her up. Her eyes opened to reveal Bucky, with a soft smile on his lips. She silently thanked him again, placing the ice bag on the right side of her ribcage.

“Thought you hated me,” she mumbled, keeping her gaze down on her lap. He furrowed his brows, keeping his eyes on her.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Well, you definitely don’t like me.”

Bucky paused at her comment, thinking about his next words, before responding.

“I don’t like that you take up all of Steve’s free time,” he grumbled, causing Y/N to quickly look up at Bucky, his eyes averting her gaze. Her face fell, immediately realizing why Bucky had treated her so coldly all this time. He just missed his friend.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her in response. “I didn’t realize, I’m sorry.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t expecting her to be so kind and understanding, even coming up with multiple points to argue back at her. He realized then that he didn’t know her at all, but that he wanted to now. In an instant, she became an entirely different person. He studied her eyes and wondered if they had always sparkled like that, if her cheeks were naturally rosy, or if her lips had always been so pink and plump.

His expression softened and he cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he muttered, tearing himself away from her gaze to look down at his lap. After a moment of silence, Bucky stood up to return back to the floor.

“Stay.” The words left Y/N’s mouth before she had time to process them. Bucky froze and turned to face her. “I mean, if you want to, of course. Just figured the floor must be super uncomfortable for you.” Y/N felt a blush creep up onto her cheeks and kicked herself mentally. She looked down at her hands, regretting the words she spoke, before feeling the bed dip again. She looked up to see Bucky. He smiled and she almost melted at the sight.

She shifted over, putting the ice bag on the nightstand, as Bucky crawled into bed next to her. The two rested on their backs, both staring at the ceiling in silence. Bucky remained at a respectful distance away, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Y/N turned on her left side, her good side, to face him.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

Bucky turned on his side to face her before responding.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

A strand of her hair had fallen in front of her face and Bucky, instinctively, reached out a hand to tuck it behind her ear. Immediately, he regretted it, about to pull his hand back when Y/N took her hand and placed it on top of his, guiding it to rest on her cheek. He cupped her face in his hand and she leaned into his embrace. Bucky felt his heart rate increase as she moved her body closer to his, wrapping the arm she used to hold his hand on her face, across his side. He shifted towards her as well, wrapping his arm around her body, bringing her closer to him.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, nervous that he might have somehow misinterpreted the situation. He hadn’t been with a woman in such an intimate way in years and had no idea what he was doing. Y/N looked up at him and nodded, before snuggling her face into his chest and Bucky felt a wave of calm wash over him.

“Can you stay here tonight?” Y/N mumbled, her face pressed into his chest. He chuckled at the vibrations from her voice and kissed her temple, smoothing her hair back.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to, honey.”

[tom-holland-parker]

Face the Mirror

Summary: Tom broke your rules and now he has to deal with the punishment

Pairing: sub!Mob!Tom x Mob!reader

Warning: SMUT

Word count:  1419

Masterlist

Rules Rules Rules

Tom knew them very well. He'd memorized all the rules you had and for as long as he could remember he always tried to follow them. But of course today Tom didn't want to listen 

For the past 3 days you've been doing nothing but edging him. It started when you woke him up by bouncing on his incredibly hard cock, his hands sleepily gripped your hips as tired moans escaped him lips, "just like that baby, you feel so good" 

You smiled, watching as his face became flustered, "you wanna cum baby?"

"Can I? Please" he whimpered, his hips slightly bucking up into you. You opened your mouth to reply but was quickly interrupted by the sound of Tom's ringtone 

He moved to grab the phone watching as Harrison's name flashed on the screen, "Don't you dare answer that phone" your hips sped up as your fingers moved to rub your clit 

"I'm sorry I have to" Tom groaned as he answered the phone. Your eye widened slightly, surprised at how easily he chose to not listen to you.

You pussy tightened around him as you felt your orgasm grow near. Tom's eyes rolled back as he struggled to listen to whatever Harrison was trying to say, your hand moved around his throat, "you can't cum until you hang up"

His jaw dropped as it became almost painful to hold back from cumming, "please miss I wanna cum" he whispered, pulling the phone away from his face slightly

"Hang up" you said with a stern voice. Tom didn’t listen, instead his hips thrusted into yours chasing his high. He came inside you as Harrison finished talking about whatever it was that needed Tom's attention. The look on your face, Tom knew he fucked up. Ignoring an important rule and choosing to cum without your permission. "Harrison I'll deal with it when I get there, bye" he hung up the phone, tossing it in the bed before looking at you

"I'm sorry" he looked at you with doe eyes hoping you'd take it easy on him. Silently you lifted yourself from his lap and walked to the bathroom. Ignoring his plea for forgiveness

The next three days were torturous punishment as you edged Tom any chance you got. The endless denied orgasms were driving him insane and he was convinced if he didn't cum soon he would explode. 

He knew that if he asked nicely you say no so he waited until you left the house to run errands. Maybe breaking another rule wasn't smart but he was too needy to care at this point. Rushing toward the bedroom he opened the drawer where the lube was kept. Quickly he pulled down his pants and began working his fist up and down his cock using his other hand to gently squeeze his balls.

Tom whimpered at how good it felt as his hips moved to fuck his fist. It felt so good he didn't even notice you hand came back into the house. You watched from the doorway as Tom's fist sped up getting closer and closer to sweet release. 

"Don't you dare" you voice was smooth but startled Tom. 

Tears rolled down his reddened cheeks as he was denied yet other orgasm, "please mistress I can't take it anymore I need to cum" 

The desperation in his voice made you smile, "and you think breaking another rule is going to convince me to give you permission" 

"Please Please Please" he repeated, unable to do anything other than beg. You pouted at his needy form. Leaning down you place a small kiss on his cheek, "Go get your belt"

Without hesitation he walked to his closet grabbing the belt that was dedicated specifically for the activities in the bedroom. When he walked back into the room your dress had been discarded, and you were standing by the full length mirror. 

Handing you the belt, he did as he was trained to do and fell to his knees waiting for you to tell him what to do. You smiled, kissing his forehead before moving to wrap the belt around his neck, not tight enough to constrict his breathing but tight enough to move him with a small tug. "Take off your underwear then kneel and face the mirror" 

Doing as he was told he discarded his underwear before taking his place in front of the mirror, "what do you say to make me stop" 

"Black" he said, staring at you through the glass. 

You smiled looking down at him, "You're just so desperate to cum aren't you" You teased. A loud moan leaves his mouth as you tug on the belt, the leather press against his throat making him impossibly hard, "start touching yourself baby, watch how desperate you look as you make yourself cum" 

You had to be honest, watching Tom jerk himself off knowing you had control over his every move really turned you on. "You look so good baby, such a good boy for me aren't you" You stroked his arm, bending down to kiss along his neck. 

Tom whimpered, "can you touch me please?" 

You shook your head, "no baby you wanted to touch yourself so now you can make yourself cum" 

He whined, thumb rubbing the tip of his cock to spread his precum, "I'm sorry miss I'll be a good boy" 

Seeing him like this set a fire in you. Outside the bedroom everyone knew him to be such a powerful man but inside the bedroom you controlled his every move. You could get drunk off the power you had over him.

"I'm gonna cum" He asked, moving his head to look at you. You pulled the belt, "I told you to look at yourself, stop moving your head" 

You watched his muscles tense as he came in his hand. His breathing becoming heavy as he hand slowly stroked his cock. You smiled, "did you enjoy that baby?"

He nodded, still trying to catch his breath. Your eyes darkened as a smirk moved across your face, "good but I didn't tell you to stop"

His brows furrowed, "what" 

You chuckled as his cluelessness, "this is still a punishment baby," you hand moved to stroke his cheek "you stop cumming when I tell you to"

A loud groan leaves his mouth as you grab his hand and lead him back to his hardened cock, "Come on baby or this is gonna last a lot longer than it needs to"

Tom ends up cumming 4 more times before he's thrashing on the floor, the slightest touch has him overstimulated and cumming in his hand. "Please I can't cum anymore" tears flow from his eyes

You pull on the belt forcing his head to look at you, "one more baby, I know a good boy like you can do it" you gently stroke his hair as you move to straddle his lap. After watching him cum repeatedly you were on edge, your pussy was absolutely soaked and throbbing in need of attention

You began moving up and down on his cock slowly, knowing he was extremely sensitive. A soft tug of the belt forced Tom's face forward into your breast. He was quick to understand what you wanted, sucking roughly on one nipple as his hand squeeze and pulled the other

"Such a good boy" you moaned as you clit nudged against his skin with every bounce, "who do you belong to?" 

"You mistress" Tom said through a moan before turning his attention back to your tits

"That's right, you belong to me. I control every part of you" You pussy tightened around him as you felt your orgasm grow close, "if you ever think about breaking my rules again I won't let you cum for a month"

Tom moaned loudly as his hands gripped your hips, "fuck I'm gonna cum"

"Cum with me baby, be a good boy and fill your mistress up" 

You both came, your bodies falling into one another for support. Quietness settled throughout the room as you moved to rub Tom's head, quickly taking off the belt and tossing it aside. "You did such a good job baby, I'm so proud of you" You littered his face with kisses and you let him tirelessly catch him breath. 

He look up at you, big brown eyes meeting yours, "I love you"

"I love you too" you smiled giving him a quick kiss on the lips, "I'll go run a bath"

//

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