#it sucks to feel like you're the only one who isn't 'allowed' to fall apart

[flameswallower]

Sometimes one has a naive assumption that other disabled/neurodivergent/mad people are not going to judge you for the things you can't do, can't do well, can't do consistently, or can't stop doing even though they are very annoying, disruptive, upsetting, dangerous, etc. Sometimes one also has a naive assumption that because one has struggles along these lines, one will automatically be able to empathize well with others in a similar boat and not become upset or disappointed with them.

I am here to tell you these assumptions are baloney.

On one hand, it's true that kinds of empathy and solidarity can exist within these categories that it's hard to find outside of them. On the other hand, most of us also have less capacity, time, and energy to help others in our lives, especially if they have intense or extremely specific support needs, than non-disabled people. And many of us have more trouble than average with things like concealing and controlling anger/frustration, not becoming anxious when other people don't do things exactly the way we were hoping or expecting, understanding that other people have different perspectives than we do, and even just, like...perceiving reality and remembering things accurately.

Do your best, apologize to people when it's called for, and try to give others a lot of grace/benefit of the doubt. Also, remember that when you start having thoughts like "I bet that person's problems aren't really that bad, I bet they're just lazy. Why do they feel entitled to all this help when no one is helping me? I work a lot harder than they do, and I feel like shit all the fucking time," that's a sign that you're operating way past your limits and are on the edge of burnout, and the fact that no one IS helping you is an indictment of your environment's (lack of) social safety nets, not of your also-disabled friends' laziness, selfishness or lack of care.

[hecatemoon87]

Makeup Sex with Eddie Brock

Warnings ⚠️ SMUT

Minors DNI

"Wait, come on! I'm sorry, okay?" Eddie said, following you down the stairs of his apartment complex.

You round on him, seething with rage. "No! How many times have I told you to stop texting Anne?"

"Look. Baby, we're just friends, honest!" He said, tripping over the last step.

Why is he so God damn adorable? It's hard to stay mad at him.

"Eddie, you almost married this woman. You can't just get rid of your feelings for her. You are texting her because you can't let go!"

Eddie looked nervously around and waved awkwardly to one of his neighbors, "Hey, how are you, Mrs. Lawrence?" You can tell he's embarrassed.

"Goodbye, Eddie," you said, leaving him a worried mess on the landing.

After you left, Eddie walks back to his apartment, goes straight to his room, and falls face first into the mattress. "Why am I such an idiot!" He groans into the bed.

*this is your fault, again. You have a perfectly good girl friend, why are you texting another woman* said Venom.

"What? You're the one who misses Annie, you traitor! That last text was from you!"

*I missed her. Annie isn't my ex-fiance, the rules are not the same* Venom said.

"Oh, shut up! She doesn't understand that! Ugh, I gotta make this right, or I'll lose her!" Eddie said, grabbing his phone and texting you frantically.

You ignore his texts. You're at a bar, having a drink to calm down. It's around eight pm and you and Eddie were supposed to have a date.

But you saw his phone receive a text, and you just so happened to catch who the message was from, Anne.

You certainly lost your cool, but what the hell? Weren't you enough for him?

You spend an hour out, taking in a few drinks to calm your nerves. Finally, you check your phone.

16 missed calls and 20 texts. Good lord, Eddie.

You check your voice messages: you have 9 voice messages.

Your curiosity allows you to listen to the first message.

"Hey, it's Eddie...uh, I'm sorry. That wasn't cool, I know. But it's Venom, he likes Annie. I'm trying to explain to him it's not okay...look, please call me? You are the only girl for me. I promise, just call me,m"

He sounded so sad, it broke your heart. Fine. You'd go back to his apartment.

He opens the door to find you on the other side.

"Thank God, okay, hear me out..." he tried to say. But you pushed him back inside, closing the door and locking it behind you.

"Bedroom, now please," you said, sauntering back. Eddie follows willingly.

He watches you undress, then perch yourself on the end of the bed, naked.

"Say you're sorry with that tongue of yours," you said seductively.

Eddie smiled and, in turn, removed his clothing and got between your legs. He kissed your inner thighs, then glided his tongue over to your mound.

He gave you a pleasant lick, then hooked his arms under your legs, pulling your bottom right on the edge of the mattress, burying his tongue into your core.

You rake your fingers through his hair, making sexy sounds, letting him know he's doing a good job.

Eddie is an eager boy. He always wants to please you. But sometimes he's a stupid boy who makes poor decisions.

You gently pull his head back, looking him in the eyes. He gives you his puppy dog eyes and says softly, "I'm sorry, baby."

"I know, but you've been a bad boy, so you're going to do what I tell you, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, like a good little boy.

"Good, now finish your dinner," you said, leaning back again and spreading your legs a little wider. He gave you a grin, and you giggle before he dives back in.

He obeys and cleans you up nice. He licks and sucks and brings you gushing forth over his tongue.

After your moans come to a silence, you sit up and push him down to the rug on the floor. He is hard as a rock, and you tease him with your tongue. He moans, and then you kiss his well toned abdomen.

"Fuck, baby. You gonna blow me?" He whined, sliding his fingers through your silky hair.

"Mhmmm," you purred against his base, then kiss upwards on his shaft, nipping his bell.

"Oh, god. Please, baby, don't tease me too much," he whimpered.

"But you've been bad," you said, low and sultry.

"Yeah. I have, really bad, teach Daddy a lesson," he said breathlessly.

You smile and straddle him, sinking your heat down on his erection. Eddie closed his eyes and moaned, grabbing hold of your hips.

"You like my pussy, baby? You enjoyed your meal, huh, daddy?" You purred as you began sinking up and down on him.

"Fucking delicious, I'll eat you any time," he said, bucking his hips.

You laugh softly, then close your eyes, enjoying his thick cock dividing your core.

You ride him slow, making him buck his hips from time to time, wanting to pound you harder. "No," you tell him firmly, as you sink down on him hard, pinning him to the floor.

You lean forward, slipping your fingers into his hands, and pushing them to the floor as well.

You slowly rotate your hips, and he groans with pleasure.

"Stop misbehaving, or you don't get to cum," you said, looking down at him.

"Huh, you serious?" He said, laughing nervously.

"Yes, and don't test me on what happens if you cum before I allow it," you said, kissing him deeply, shoving your tongue into his mouth, pressing the back of his head into the floor. Eddie moaned into your mouth as you pinched his nipples and clenched your cunt around him hard.

"Okay, okay, okay! Fuck, I almost came," he said, turning his head to the side.

You giggled, enjoying him wiggling below you.

"Poor baby, ask me permission to cum," you said, sitting back up, and rocking your hips again, thoroughly pleasuring yourself with his big cock.

"Please, can I cum?" He said.

"Oh, you can beg sexier than that, Eddie," you teased.

"Fuck. Yeah, yeah, sure. Uh, please mistress? Let your naughty fuck toy cum?"

"Mmmmm, sluty, you're a sluty fuck toy, baby," you said, clenching again.

Eddie whimpered out a sexy little groan and corrected himself, "Sluty! Fuck, yeah. I'm a sluty little fuck toy, mama. Let me cum, please?"

His voice was strained, she knew he was at his limit, so she rode him, letting him cum.

Afterward, both showered and dressed in your pajamas, Eddie was rubbing your feet on the couch while you watched TV.

"That was fucking amazing sex. Maybe I should piss you off more," he said, grinning.

"Watch it pal. Any more shenanigans from you and I'll have to peg your sweet little ass," you said.

Eddie's eyes widened, "Um, okay. I'll be on my best behavior then," he said, nodding with commitment.

"Good boy," you said, winking.

[octuscle]

My boyfriend is cute, but he’s also so weak. I wish he was tougher, like his redneck brother.

Allow me to ask you why you are with your friend who is passionate about 19th century English poetry and baroque trumpet concertos. And not with his brother, who shoots cats and empty tin cans with a shotgun and claims to be a "monster truck mechanic". Okay, your boyfriend is gay, his brother isn't. That's a pretty good argument.

You lie together in your room, cuddle a bit, read and listen to music. Each with their own headphones. He Johann Sebastian Bach, you Taylor Swift. He reads Byron, you read a Superman comic book. He looks really cute lying on the bed. But a bit rougher, a bit more masculine… That would be cool…

Out of the blue, your boyfriend says he needs to take a shit. You are shocked. He's never expressed himself like that before. He's in the bathroom for a surprisingly long time. When he comes back, he has a copy of "Four Wheelers" under his arm. And he's turned the music up so loud that you can hear the bass from his headphones. What's he listening to, you ask. "The Cadillac Three" he answers. Never heard it, you think to yourself… He rolls himself a cigarette. And asks if you'd like one too. Neither of you has ever smoked before…

After you've spent most of the afternoon chilling without saying a word, your boyfriend says "Babe, when are you making dinner? A proper chili would be great, I'm hungry as a horse." You ask if he's gone completely mad now, you're not his cook and especially not his babe. He rolls over to you, unzips your pants and pulls them down. You start moaning in anticipation. He's about to suck you off. And he sucks like the devil. To your amazement, he pulls his pants down too. His boner pops out of his pants like a jack-in-the-box. He spits on his cock and slowly inserts it into your hole. And then he fucks you like a devil. You squeal with pleasure like a guinea pig. His huge uncut cock feels so great in your tight hole. He starts to quiver. And he fills you up with his load until his sperm drips out of your ass. You say that was the best sex of your life. He replies that he's really hungry now and needs a big portion of chili.

You've never cooked a chili in your life. You've never cooked anything at all. You usually go out to eat. You ask how a chili is cooked. He says that at least you have a tight ass. And takes two large cans of chili from the kitchen cupboard, puts them in a pot and gives you a slap on your ass. Where the hell did these cans come from? Your boyfriend says that he's watching a bit of football and that you should please serve the food in front of the TV. Well, he put it a bit more rustic. When you come into the living room with two bowls of steaming chili, he's lounging on the couch. His cowboy boots on the coffee table. His thumbs under the big belt buckle. And the hair on the back of his neck almost long enough to fall over his shoulder.

It annoys you a little that he doesn't really eat anything else apart from chili. Scrambled eggs with black beans maybe. He only drinks beer and coffee. He does fuck you two or three times a day, but he farts and sometimes he watches football on TV at the same time. Your favorite thing is when he has breakfast at the gas station. Then you get woken up with a fuck and then have a few hours of rest before you have to go to work. But you also need them to prepare lunch and dinner, clean and do the laundry. Your husband has expectations. And Babe has to fulfill them.

[agoddamn]

This is regarding an oldass post but- you said Madara got abandoned by his bloodline and thus sucked at leadership, iirc? Could you elaborate pls? Bc that haunts me in a 'it makes a lot of sense but how exactly did the trainwreck go' sense?

I was being a little facetious, of course. Madara isn't incompetent, and he never would have lasted as long as he did in a brutal war if everyone hated him.

But! But, but, but.

He completely falls apart when Izuna dies.

The Uchiha completely fall apart when Izuna dies.

That last bit in particular suggests to me that Izuna had a critical role in the Uchiha leadership; he performed a function that Madara just couldn't.

Now, it's not a sign of bad leadership to delegate a job to someone who's perfect for it--that's actually very responsible.

What is a sign of bad leadership is when you put your emotional meltdown above the lives you're still responsible for.

Leaders are allowed to have feelings and mourn, of course. But a leader also needs the humility to be able to say, "I can't make good decisions for the people I'm responsible for right now, I need to step back" and when Izuna dies Madara cannot do that.

Instead, he takes Izuna's venomous last words to heart. He takes them as a mission statement, even. He doesn't consider, "do we have the resources to win this fight against the Senju?" He's only thinking, "I can't forgive them."

Madara put the words of a dead man above the well-being of the clan members who were still alive. He took people to battles they were never going to win and they got slaughtered because Madara cared more about the dead than the living.

Madara is the one who abandoned his bloodline. He stopped protecting them, stopped trying to keep them safe and make good choices for them.

The flashback features a panel of Uchiha deserting and surrendering to the Senju after Izuna's death because things are going so bad, and that says everything to me. Deserting a clan with centuries of pedigree and an exclusive bloodline? Looking at your leader and your enemy and deciding you're safer with the enemy? That must have been against every instinct in their body, but they still did it. That's the proof in the pudding to me--Madara must have been doing incredibly bad for his people to make that choice.

Madara's bloodline didn't abandon him; he abandoned them when he chose to drag out an unwinnable war for personal feelings. They simply reacted accordingly.

And this is why it makes perfect sense to me that the Uchiha didn't look kindly on Madara after Konoha was formed. They'd seen him at his worst and they'd seen what his real priorities are. He's still clan leader solely by virtue of his bloodline and Mangekyo at that point; if they had had a viable way to oust him, they absolutely would have.

This is also why it makes perfect sense to me why Tobirama is so adamant about Madara not being Hokage, and the people having a vote. Hashirama is blinded by his personal fondness for Madara. Tobirama can see that Madara's clan hasn't forgiven him, and he can see that every other clan also saw Madara's very public meltdown and saw his clansmen desert.

There's no way any other clan wants Madara in a leadership position over them after watching him crash and burn like that. There's even a very real possibility that forcing Madara in as Hokage like Hashirama wanted would have triggered a coup or rebellion!

How would you feel if, idk, Obama declared that Ron DeSantis was going to be President now? You'd think he was fucking insane, right? Dude has done nothing but prove he makes decisions by personal profit and not the wellbeing of the people he's responsible for. He could never be a good President.

[ilovehobi101]

Their concubine.

Pairing: Namor/K’ul’ku’kan x reader x Shuri, Namor/K’ul’ku’kan x Shuri

Part 2.

Warning: Infidelity M/f/f, polyamorous relationship, Dirty talk (in English and Yucatec Maya), Hickeys, Cockwarming, Creampie, Nipple play, Sweet nicknames, Pampering, love triangle, Choking, Beach Sex, Praise and degrading kink, Breeding kink, Masturbating, Cockdrunk, Spanking, Begging, Rough sex, Squirting, grammar mistakes?

Summary: You and your cousin Riri were invited to Princess Shuri's private wedding, once King Namor laid his eyes on you, he decided you will be his as well as his wife, you tried hard to say no but you couldn't resist the handsome god for long.

A/n: this is my first time writing for the MCU so be gentle with me lol, I might have focused more on Namor x reader but part 2 will be more of both. Sorry if it sucks.

You sat in awe of the beautiful wedding, your cousin was the maid of honor so you were left by yourself, Princess Shuri was gorgeous in her wedding dress and her groom was...you couldn't even describe his attractiveness. When you first saw his people you weren't shocked you mean there's a god of thunder and a purple alien so people who lived in the ocean weren't really that much of a shock at least to you, "Does anybody object?" the groom looked around as if daring anybody to say something, his dark chocolate orbs stopped on you with an emotion you couldn't read, a part of you wanted to turn around to see if he was actually looking at you but you didn't want to embarrass yourself more as when you sent an awkward smile towards him that seemed to snap him back and he looked back Shuri, with love in his eyes.

Everyone cheered, clapped, and hollered as the happy couple shared a deep passionate kiss, they pulled apart and faces their subjects "Wakanda forever! Líik’ik Talokan!" The Queen and king chanted to their people and their subjects repeated the only ones who didn't was you and Riri making you both feel out of place. the now-married couple began to walk to the after-party, and everyone followed soon after. You watch the sunset fall behind the ocean and the lights of the lanterns turn on with a drink in hand "Beautiful, isn't it?" a deep latin american accent called, you turned to look at who spoke and immediately froze as the handsome king walked up to you "Are you enjoying the party? " "it's amazing and yes it's more than beautiful" you answered hesitantly "What is your name, In hechicera? (My enchantress)” you rose your brow in confusion but told him anyways, He tested your name and oh the way it rolled off his tongue made a shiver ride up your spine before you ask for his.

"My people call me K’ul’ku’kan, My enemies call me Namor but you can call me In Ajaw'o," he smirked slyly "I want you as mine, my concubine." he spoke looking into your eyes with want and determination, you open your mouth to answer but luckily your phone ringed, saving you "I got to umm t-take this." you stutter, speed walking more like run away from Namor.

Namor softly chuckled as he watched you run away, how he can't wait to hear your pretty moans and cries for him, to hear his hips smack against your hips as your nails pierce his back, to see your lust and desperate-filled eyes begging him to use you, to please your king. You couldn't believe what just happened, you're pretty you know that but hot, attractive men barely looked at you twice and to have someone like him, who oozes dominance that you just want to submit to, allow him to do what he wished to do to you was overwhelming, to say the least. you quickly found your cousin, telling her you got to go. You thought that was the end of it but man you were wrong, it was a week after the wedding, and a necklace of silver chain with light blue, and darker blues jewels with a handwritten note on your doorstep,

' Encantadora (Enchantress) you have enchanted me with your beauty and I hope this will enhance you as you have me. I had it made by my finest jeweler, and the jewels hand-picked by me. I would love to see you adore it, in hechicera.-

- A Ajaw'o' (Your king)

You looked up past the trees to the ocean, and you wondered if he was watching. You looked back at the necklace 'fuck it' you took it inside and put it into your jewelry box. The next day another necklace arrived a gradient blue seashell with gold on the edge of it, this came with a note as well, his way with words was charmingly elegant, and gift after gift came, a row of seashells of silver and blue, a pair of earrings that wrapped around your earlobes and was shaped like a fish's side fins, seashells, and starfish covered the top and bottom of the fins, a long chain of pearls dangled down, the held colorful blue shell, it was the most beautiful of the jewelry he had sent to you "I-it's beautiful." you said in awe as you walked back into your home to put it were you kept the things Namor gifted you. You smiled then paused, this is wrong, you were openly letting princess Shuri's, your role model, husband court you if that was what he was doing. No, this couldn't continue the next gift you'll give back somehow.

You woke up bright and early, as expected another gift laid on your doormat but instead of jewelry it was a conch shell blue and white in color with a note beneath it

'Encantadora, if you wish to see me as I do, blow into this and lay it into the ocean and I will come to your call.

- A Ajaw'o'

'Huh, convenient.' you thought as you strutted your way back into your house and left the Conch Shell on your couch side table as you gathered a bag to put all his gifts, courting gifts? and begin to make your way to the beach, on the way millions of thoughts flew through your mind what struck you as odd is 'I don't what this to stop.' that almost made you pause in your step, but you finally made it 'ok all I have to do is blow this and put it into the ocean, I got this but how far?' you let the bag dropped to the sand, lifting the shell to your lips, you blew into as hard as you could, you need him to hear, and throw the shell into the ocean.

You paced back and forward, trying to gather your courage when a splash caught your attention, and your jaw dropped 'Lord, help me.' you watched as Namor walked out of the waves with short dark green shorts, a gold belt, and a neckpiece with a set of golden seashells and pearls wrapped around his neck, gold jeweled bracelets on his wrists and biceps. Namor pushed his hair out of his face, the sun shined upon him causing the water to make his brown skin seem like it was sparkling. You shut your mouth and gulped as you hyped yourself up "In hechicera. " Namor acknowledged "U-Umm I uh here!" you went to reach for the bag of jewelry but his hand stopped you and made you look up at him "Are my gifts not to your satisfaction?" He questioned, his thumb rubbing your chin "No they're absolutely beautiful but—" "Then why rejected me In yakunaj? (My Love) " he questioned again, his lips centimeter away, his dark eyes gazing into yours "I..i" you didn't want too but you wanted him, with your entire being, you wanted to feel what it was like to be fucked by a god it wouldn't hurt for a day right? You could just say no more after, yeah that's what you'll do.

"Please.." you whispered, Namor smirked and his lips laid upon yours, his hands on your waist pulling you against his hardening bulge. A whimper climbs its way out of you as his hot tongue explores your mouth, and your breathing became uneven when you felt his hand wrap around your nape and his other groping your ass. "Le mía, in jats'uts concubina." he whispered against your lips, moving on to kiss your shoulder and gently manhandle you to lay on the sand, you could feel yourself become wet, and your patience grows thin "Please, I need you!" you beg, bucking your hips against him"Yes? What does my concubine want?" he growled, biting and sucking your neck, "Fuck me, please I feel like I'll die if you don't," you whine, grinding your clothed cunt hard against his hard member.

"Toop (Fuck). take off your clothes." Namor hissed, his cock twitching to be inside of you. You happily do what he ordered, how can you say no to a king, a fucking hot ass king like him, you practically rip your shirt, bra, skirt, and underwear off, and your cheeks felt got as you watch what he'd do. Namor took a moment to admire you, your pussy was glistening with your arousal, your breasts move up and down for your heavy breathing, your eyes held desperation for him and your lips parted just a little bit, he wanted so badly to make your lips swollen with his kisses but he was a benignant king, he will make your wish come true. Namor spread his pre-cum down his cock to lubricate, making it a bit easier, he knew it might hurt, his cock wasn't average, he was thick and long but fuck he couldn't wait.

"Ready in yakunaj?" he smirked, his cock head nudging your drooling core, you only nodded with excitement, Namor chuckled and kissed you as he slide home, balls deep "Joder ti', jump'éel coño jach apretado, perfecto utia'al a ajawo'" He groaned in his native tongue "Fuck, such a tight pussy, perfect for your king." he translated, gritted his teeth as his skilled hips began to work. His pace was slow at first, letting you get used to him but that didn't last long, his dick drilled into you like no man has as if he'll never fuck another pussy, feral growls left him as he suck at your neck, marking you his, your moans and whines, his growls and groans, skin slapping was all you could hear.

You gasped, his mouth engulfing your hardened nipple, and his large hand hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, his cock now hitting the ring of your cervix, fucking you into the sand"FUCK! Go-gonna cum!" you cried, tears in corner of your glossy orbs, "Cum, Encantadora ." Namor ordered after letting go of your nipple, his brown eyes locked with yours and like that you cummed making a mess on Namor's dick and the sand below you, Namor buried his face into your neck to muffle his loud groan as he thrusted hard, dumping his cum into you, filling every part of your walls. Namor took a moment to regain his senses before he slowly pulled out with a wetting pop that made you flustered as his and your cum came out like a river onto the already cum covered sand. "You are mine," he said slowly, with seriousness, you knew it was true, you were kidding yourself when you thought you could say no to this man "Yours," you replied, you knew this wouldn't last but fuck you'll enjoy well you can.

You thought your relationship was gonna be all about sex but it was more than that, even though he was busy as the king of Talocan and now Wakanda he still made time for you. He let you show him your likes and your dislikes, and hobbies, he let you cook your favorite foods for him, although he did not show you knew he liked it, he watched your favorite movies while you cuddled, your head under his chin and his strong arm wrapped around you. Your favorite moment is when you showed him 'the little mermaid', he said nothing but you could see he wanted to, wanting to respect your likes, but it wasn't one-sided he showed you dances of his people, showed you how to paint, and teach you some words of his native language, he even trusted you enough give you kimoyo beads that Princess Shuri updated that allow the wearer could visit talocan with a skin-tight suit but still able to protect them and he showed you how his people tamed whales, beautiful fish you ever thought you'd see up clos.

That night he made love to you, you tricked yourself into not seeing it that way but it was broken when on the edge of unconsciousness, he whispered that he loved you, he had fallen in love with you, and how you truly were an enchantress. You fall asleep with a smile, knowing he felt the same.

"In hechicera let's go for a swim, I want to show you something," Namor spoke catching your attention from your book "Ok let me get dressed" you smiled excited to see more of his world "What you have on is enough, let's go." he got up and made his way out the door with you rushing to keep up. The trip didn't take so long, you both stopped at a stone ring which Namor put his hands in, and suddenly a current of water appeared, Namor looked at you, a mischievous glint in his browns "wait no!—" you screamed as he grinned, taking your hand and swimming into the strong current, dragging you with him. You squeeze your eyes shut from fear, relaxing only a bit when you felt his muscular arms, protecting you. "Open your eyes" he whispered after you made it to your destination, hesitantly you opened your eyes and silently gasped, a beautiful city stands before you was this talocan? "let's go." he gestured as he swam to the city, you not far away.

As you both continue swam until you were in the capital city, you looked around you kids were playing, adults buying and selling stuff, and some even waved at you "Hola, mmm in wéetlail yéetel Teene' ichilo'ob teech ki'ichpam. (Hello umm me and my friends think you're beautiful)" A little girl came up to you and nervously looked back at her friends who were just as nervous, you gazed back at her friends with a soft smile and back at her "Hola yéetel Yo'olal ba'ax Nib óolal, teech xan teech ki'ichpam. (Hello, and why thank you, you're beautiful too)" you spoke softly. Namor watched on the sidelines as you interact with the children, asking their names and a thought crossed his mind, he wanted to see you like this with your children, to see you speaking softly to them and caring for them, then his thoughts dirty, he wanted to fuck your womb fill of cum, so much there would be no doubt you'd get pregnant, to see you swelling with his child, breed you time and time again, to hear you beg for it. He had to hurry and show his second surprise before he lost his control and composure, it seems only you and Shuri had a way to make him lose control of himself easily. "I have one thing more to show you." Namor informed "ok let's go" you replied before saying goodbye to the children.

You made it to his palace, it was more astounding than you imagined, you stopped in front of a clear box that was attached to the wall that had a brown door leading to a room, swimming into the box you looked at Namor curious but he smiles slyly and gestured for you to wait. The water started swirling around you and down a drain on the floor you didn't notice, it continued until no water was inside. You looked around shocked, your suit disappearing into your beads "there's more." he pointed to the door, and you took a breath and open the door, your jaw dropped as you walked into the room almost in a trance-like. The wall was a light blue, so light it was almost white, a king-sized bed stood against the middle of the wall, and a round headboard coral was decorated on the top, it looked so soft in front of the bed against the wall was a large wardrobe, a light oak brown in color, on the left wall was a beautiful vanity and bookshelves, with bean bags around the bookshelves and on the other walls was huge windows with white curtains, you step closer to the windows as colorful fish swim passed by. "How?" you asked in awe ""How" is never as important as "Why"." you turned to look at him "Why?" you questioned as you walk up to him "Because I have come to love you. I love you Encantadora." He started looking at you with such fondness, you could help but pull him into a heated kiss that lead to the bed and clothes being tossed.

"Such a slut for your god." Namor hissed when your heat welcome him, and you bounced on his dick, your nails digging into his muscular chest, leaving small angry crescent moons for everyone to see. "Please, not enough, more!" you cried with tears in your eyes as you quicken your pace, trying and failing to find the pleasure he can only bring, begging him to fuck you as not even you can do, Namor just smirked, planting his feet on the mattress and thrusted up, hard. Brushing that special spot and hitting your cervix, all thoughts left, and only his cock, his long, hard cock was on your mind and in your pussy, the only thing that mattered now. his thrusts were rapid, rough, and downright punishing. You yelped as he slapped your ass "What? Can't think? In puta tonta." he purred in his baritone voice, his eyes lusted and lidded as he suddenly got you onto your back, your legs to your chest, cock still inside you.

"Fuck." you panted as he pounded away, your nails running down his back "Yaan in tséentik in linda peek'o' reproductora, chup a seen u Ma'atech a sentirás vacía, a k'áat le je'elo'. Ba'ax tia'al ten a Ajaw." Namor grunted his hips smacking into your ass "Gonna breed my pretty breeding bitch, fill you so much that you'll never feel empty, do you want that? To serve your king?" he repeated in English, his accent even thicker, you let out a lewd moan at his words squeezing hard around him and feeling your climax coming, he spanked you as he asked again "Please let me to be filed with you." you slurred cockdrunk, eyes locked with his, body jerking from his thrusting. a snap of his hips had you squirting, absolutely drenching you and him the bed, his thrust became sloppy as he fulfilled his promise, his lips on yours in a kiss full of passion.

Shuri controlled her heavy breathing as she came around her fingers, watching as her husband fucked you like he hated you from the wardrobe, she waited for you both to fall asleep to leave. She needed to think of her next course of action.

Translation:

Le mía, in jats'uts concubina

Mine, my pretty concubine.

@namorkawaiiwife @opalinehart @savagemickey03 @caloetta @darkfairy102190 @nessa41890 @littlekidsteve @18lkpeters @plasticfantasticl0ver @galaxygirl453 @wint3r-h3art @omgsuperstarg @paranoiac-666 @notalwaysa @like-things-thatarentreal @psamathegoesrawr @gingermous @deliciousfestsalad @aiden-presscott @amyhennessyhouse

[aro-pancake-writes]

@fangbangerghoul, it's here.

I have way too many brain rots that need to pay their rent.

I also still have Kinky Boots floating around in here, and decided to continue on my previous one.

NSFW, so minors DNI.

AFAB NB Dusty, goes by they/them.

And I still cannot name my stories.

[Read beneath the cut]

The walk back to the hotel was charged and rushed.

Sam's jacket covers my body from anyone who wants to take a peek, and I feel protected by it.

I never really minded the looks, catcalls or anything like it. But the way that man touched me, pressed me against his body, that was a stark reminder of why I haven't dressed like this in a while.

However, the way Sam jumped in to protect me, to save me when I froze, felt good.

The elevator opens on our floor, and Sam is already pressing me against the nearest wall to kiss me, while trying to find the door and get us inside.

I shrug off his jacket as soon as the door closes behind us, giving him access to my body. I watch as his eyes turn dark in desire while I walk towards him.

“How do you want me?” I ask, wrapping my hands behind his neck.

“Just like that.” He says, turning me to face away from him, a hand making its way up my legs and raising my dress. “I want you to trust me, and let me fuck you until I'm done.”

I have to bite back a moan. I trust him. With my life whenever we're out exploring, so this isn't that far off.

I lean forward, offering him a view of my ass. He slaps it, making me moan out loud.

“Darling, you're gonna make me cum in my pants if you continue to make those lovely sounds.” He says, wrapping a hand around my neck and the other on my hips, finding my dampened underwear.

“Would that be so bad?” I ask, feeling bratty and defiant. It was a great choice.

He rips off my undies, falling on his knees and making me turn to him.

Before I can react to the way he manhandles me, his lips take my heated core. His beard is scratchy as he feasts like a starved man. And I love it.

He places one of my legs over his shoulder, giving himself better access and placing his hand on my lower back for support.

I'm so close now, looking down at his blue eyes, full of love and worship, and…

He stops. Letting go of me completely and getting up. I almost fall, if not for him holding on to my waist for stability.

“Brats don't get to cum.” He says with a tone of command. And I want more. “Now, darling, get rid of this dress. Don't hide from me.”

I do as he says, removing the dress and allowing it to puddle at my feet. As I go to sit and remove the boots, he stops me.

Those stay, then.

It's hot to look at his eyes without having to crank my neck up. But the hot press of his skin on mine had me wondering when he had the time to strip.

The feel of his pants tells me that he's not fully naked, stabilizing his dominance further over me.

I want more. More of it, of him, of being taken care of.

He makes me get down, sitting on my heels with my knees apart. He takes his sweet time running his fingers on my lips and opening his pants ever so slowly.

I'm not prepared for the way his cock almost hits me in the face when freed, the desire already leaking off the tip. I want to taste it, feel it.

One look at his face, and the permission in his smile is all it takes for me to wrap my lips around him and let it go in as deep as I can.

It's not everything, but he's pleased. I know he'll respect the limits of both my body and my mind.

I suck on him, enjoying the grunts and moans he gives me. It's not doing much to help my edged and denied state, especially when he cums in my mouth. I freeze for a second, looking at him for instructions when he slips out of my grasp.

“You're a good lil bitch, aren't you?” He asks, placing a hand under my chin. I can only nod, keeping my eyes locked on his. “Then you know what to do, love. If you want to earn your release.”

I swallow and open my mouth to show him. The satisfied, cocky grin he gives me makes me go weak.

Sam pulls me to my feet, and before I can take a step on my own, he has me facing the nearest wall, one with a massive mirror on it.

I was a mess. My makeup is smudged, my lipstick is completely gone, my hair wants to fall back to its natural position. The reflected person was one who was pleasured and guaranteed the night was not over just yet. Sam pulled me to lean forward for him.

I have to put my hands in the mirror for support as he enters my body. It's too much to take in after being denied so long. I'm panting and begging as he makes me arch my back so he can have access to my neck as he fucks me relentlessly.

“Please,” I say, not even knowing what I'm about to ask for.

“Please, what?” He asks me, slowing down his pace. It's tortuous, denying me once again my release. “What do you want?”

“I want you.” My words come out cut and breathless, with his movements becoming harder. “I want you to make me cum. Please, Sam.” My pleas feel like it's falling on deaf ears, as he stops completely and takes a step away from me, taking me to the bed.

“You'll have to work for it.” He sits on the bed, comfortable and naked, pulling me to his lap. “Now, sit.”

And I sit, placing him back where he belongs and riding him.

There's only the sounds of our moans and our lovemaking echoing in the room, turning me on even further.

I'm so, so close, that one flick to my clit and I'll collapse.

And Sam knows it, holding my hands back and making himself my only source of pleasure.

“When I said you'll have to work for it, I meant it.” He whispers in my ear. “Now, imagine what I can do for you if you cum for me, right… now.”

It's like magic. When he says it, my whole body shakes, letting out everything. There's wetness between my legs, and I can only see the sky blue of his eyes.

Sam takes over, fucking me through my orgasm and dragging another one out of me. And another.

It feels like being on the beach, and having wave after wave hit you, in a way you can't even stop to breathe.

There's warmth inside, and it's taking me on another high.

I have no strength to move when we both come down from our high.

“I'm sorry.” Is the first thing I hear, making me look up at him. “I'm sorry if I was too rough on you.”

“You weren't.” I say, falling back to his neck and enjoying the scent of leather and bourbon. “It was great. There's nothing to apologize for.”

“Love, look at this.” He says, placing a hand on my hips. I look, finding light marks matching his hands. It'll be bruised by morning, but they make me smile. “It's not a laughing matter.”

“Not laughing.” I shrug, going back to nuzzle his neck. I love being like this, basking in his scent and warmth. “They make me happy. I want to bear your marks, and I do it with pride.”

There's a deep breath, and he hugs me, pulling me closer to his chest. It's still not close enough. I want closer, more, mine.

But tiredness takes over, and I only want to take a shower and sleep for the night.

Before I can say or do anything, I'm turned on the bed, with Sam removing my boots, that I had all but forgotten I still had on. He picks me up and takes me to the bathroom, where we take a long and steamy shower.

Back to the bed, I'm curled up to his side, drawing circles on his chest as my insecurities finally pop up.

Is… is this a one time thing? Or will we be able to do it again? Does he want something more, a real relationship with me, or just the sex?

“We can't do this,” he starts, and I hold back from sitting up. My heart skips a beat, and I move to look at his eyes, “on the ship.”

“Why?” I hold back all my dark thoughts, sending them to the pits of my mind.

“Because you're too loud, love.” He laughs, coming in to kiss me. I don't avoid it, but don't reply either. “The whole ship would know when we're fucking. And I'd rather keep those noises for myself. We don't need anyone else knowing that you can sound so lovely with my dick inside of you.”

I stare at him blankly while processing.

“You want more?” I blush, and he looks at me like a lost pup.

“More?” He smiles, pulling me to sit on his lap. “Darling, I've wanted you since the moment we first met. I've wanted to know your taste, your sounds, your warmth since the day you first walked into the Lodge.”

Just sex, then. I try to keep my heartbreak from showing, but it's too much to hold in.

“Then I got to meet you.” He continues, giving me a glimmer of hope. “And I fell in love with you. I've been scared that you didn't feel the same way I do. That I'm not good enough…” I can't hear him talking about himself like this, so I interrupt him with a kiss.

“I do. I feel the same way.” I'm finally able to smile again. My broken pieces are put back together. “And you're worthy of love, Sam. Hell, I'll give you the galaxy if you ask it of me.”

There's a hearty laugh, and he kisses me again.

“I can already hold my whole world in my arms, love. There's no need for more.”

[thegirlwhofellfromthestars]

some thoughts about aspcts of hal and kara's relationship with regards to their relationships with their parents specifically and how that'd effect their interactions

disclaimer: this is largely me unintelligbly rambling and based off personal interpretation and stuff i remember, as well as me incorporating some headcanon in how i portray kara's family in particular (though i'll definitely alert people when we go into headcanon territory). also tw for discussions/mentions of child abuse.

...i feel like it's safe to say that hal has a really, really strained relationship with his family. we see during the parallax run his perceptions of his family versus the reality - a sort of thing about neglect and abuse and cracking under the weight of expectations while also feeling unimaginably trapped in your own childhood trauma. and a big part of his character arc is trying to grow and heal from it, but sometimes things just fall the fuck apart. while that has been retconned (and imo that's... an issue in and of itself), it's definitely the version i tend to go with because i feel like it means a lot and contributes a lot of understanding to the context of hal jordan, the character.

kara's relationship with her family is a bit weirder in that it's very much inconsistent across continuities. her original, pre-crisis parents were clearly very good, loving parents to the point they allowed their daughter to remain with her foster family because they didn't want to pressure her into choosing. later continuities tend to portray her family as outright abusive, while others tend to have her mother be the more strict one and her dad be the more overtly loving, laid-back one.

as for where my personal headcanon falls: i tend to have it be in the middle. while i think her parents' relationship with her isn't exactly perfect - in particular, that there's some stuff they're just going to struggle with for a long time, possibly forever, when it comes to kara's being autistic and how that might clash with kryptonian culture - and they'll make fuck-ups, it's not really a pattern of abusive behavior and they are truly well-meaning and care about her. i think between the two of them allura is probably the one who struggled on some level with really understanding some of the neurodivergent traits kara had and trying to resolve them rather than understand them, but not from a place of malice, and it wasn't extreme enough to the point that they couldn't try to talk it out.

"lucia," you're probably saying, "where the fuck does the brotp ever's interactions come into play?!"

WELL.

i think that sort of contributes to hal's simultaneous caution and understanding of kara's grief. while i think he's only really started to grapple with his own projections and downplaying of his own childhood trauma, kara's relationship with her parents had comparably less baggage than his but also the sheer weight and drasticness of what's happened is so awful. her parents, no matter how imperfect they were, are dead, and she loved them, and the fact that they're dead fucking sucks. in some ways, hal sort of feels like he's similar to kara's parents in the whole "trying to unlearn the stuff from your own upbringing and background that you took for granted".

so much of parallax's motivations are tied up in personal grief and that his concerns and fears and anger and upset were dismissed when honestly his desire to do something about it came from an understandable place. hal's already working on repairing his fuck-ups, and he sees this kid and thinks, "i really, really don't want her to go through the same things i did when i felt like her. maybe there are things she was taught about herself as a person that are wrong. i don't know, i wasn't there, but this is a kid who needs a place where she knows that it's okay to not be okay."

i think hal really knows how to communicate with kara better than he thinks he does - he probably second-guesses himself about it, with trying so hard to better himself as a person after what he did and wondering if it all means that much. but i think having an adult in the situation who'd try to reach out to her quietly - especially one whose experiences aren't wholly different than hers - leaves a tremendous positive impact on her.

this is all to say i need to draw or write a scene where she's sort of cranky and hal quietly grabs her a juice box of apple juice and she accidentally says, "thanks, dad" in response but it is played for all the gut-wrenching "OH G-D, WHY" factors it has.

[witchersmistress]

Hey Busy Bee,

I hope you're doing good.

Would you mind writing a fluffy fic where August (it could be Walter too) is taking care of his partner who is on period?

Take creative liberty and make it as tooth rotting as you'd like

I'm currently experience terrible period cramps and I'm in dier need of some comfort. Hot water bag isn't helping.

Thanks❤❤

Of course!! id be delighted to. periods cramps suck and i dont know about you but they make me miserable. poor Jamie LMAO

Word count: 2.4K

Little Honey-Bee

Warmth surrounds me so completely that I almost can’t tell what tugs me out of my comfortable slumber. Arms are steeled around me, holding me tightly against a hard body. After August’s confession and earnestness in his words, 

“ I wanted to make sure you were safe. You were always my priority, just as you always will be. You, my little honey bee, are where my life begins and ends, because a man like me doesn’t care about anything but their queen.”

I allowed myself to fall into a deep sleep in the safety of his arms. He never did strike me as the cuddling type, but every time I tried to roll across the bed to escape the furnace, he tucked me right back against him. I lay for a few moments, keeping my body still while I try to pick up on any noise in the house, but it’s completely silent apart from August’s soft snores behind me. It’s another few minutes before pain spreads through my lower belly and takes my breath away. Oh no. As quickly and quietly as I can, I pry myself from his grip and scurry across the room, not bothering to pick up my robe from the floor on my way back to my bedroom. I stop in the doorway and lean against the frame, pain radiating down to the tops of my thighs and taking my breath away. I’ve always had bad periods.

 Ever since my first one when I was twelve. Most months, I spend two or three days in my room feeling sorry for myself because I physically cannot get out of bed, and by the way the cramps take hold, this one doesn’t seem any different. I must have lost track of my cycle since being here, but the arrival of my period does allow me to breathe a little easier. Although anything can happen, it’s unlikely I would get pregnant at this point in my cycle. If nothing else, I need to find a way to get on birth control without August knowing it, even if it only buys me a few months. I’m not ready to be a mother, and I’m certainly not ready to bring a child into the world while we’re at this impasse. We’re still trying to find a way to make things work, and for the most part, I’m still pushing him away every chance I get. Why would I want to bring a baby into a situation like that? I do feel comforted by his promise to never raise a hand to me, which means he probably won’t kill me when my usefulness expires.so the deal with my father wasn't a total waste 

 It may be naive of me to believe him, but there was something in his tone that told me he was being sincere, and it gave me the opportunity to rest. 

“The reason I tell you this, Bee, is because I need you to understand that while I am a monster, I am not the same as my father and uncles. I do not enjoy hurting women, and I’ve gone to great lengths to bring us together. I would not do anything to jeopardize that, and I will never lay a hand on you in anger.”

 I burst into my bathroom and quickly slammed the door behind me, turning the lock immediately. I’m sure there’s a camera in here somewhere, but the illusion of privacy is enough for me right now. And if August decides he wants to get nosey, it’ll be his fault when he sees something he isn’t ready for. Another cramp hits me just as I lower myself onto the tiled floor by the toilet, the pain so intense it makes my stomach protest painfully. I’ve done this enough times to know the throwing up isn’t far away.

 My hands fall to my lower stomach and tears escape the corners of my eyes. I need to put some clothes on, but the cool tiles on my overheated skin is like heaven. Plus, I’m not sure I can get up off the ground without assistance, and I’m sure as hell not allowing August to see me like this. When I’m sure my stomach isn’t about to lurch its way up my throat, I crawl across the tiles to a stash of underwear I hid in here so I didn’t have to get dressed in a room I knew had cameras. Now I know all of them do, it seems redundant, but at least it’s handy in times like this. Next I make my way to the vanity, praying that whoever stocked it had the foresight to prepare for menstruation, and breathe a sigh of relief when a box of tampons catches my eye. Oh, thank God. The thought that I may have to ask the scary Mafia man, who has killed more people than I’ve probably met in my life, to go to the store and buy them makes me blush and scoff at the same time. Lord have mercy on the shop assistant that would have had to assist him. Before I can force myself to my feet to take care of business, the sound of my name booming down the hallway startles me. I don’t want him to see me like this, not when we’ve just started to find our way. But if I don’t answer him, it will only end badly for me. “I’m in here,” I groan, not sure my voice will carry through the door and into the hallway. Hot tears stream down my cheeks as my body begins to heave.

 There’s nothing in my stomach, between everything that happened before August and I fell into bed and slept the day away. I never had a chance to eat anything, but that doesn’t stop my body from trying to expel the contents of my stomach. The door handle moves, but the lock doesn’t allow him to get any further, and a loud knock ricochets off the tiles. “Bee! Why is this door locked?” he demands, his voice full of anger. I’m sure he thinks I’m hiding from him, hiding from how vulnerable we were with one another. “I’m sick. Go back to bed.” I barely manage to get the words out before my body heaves out nothing but clear bile. There’s silence for a moment and I almost think he’s doing as I asked, but when the sound of metal on metal fills the room, I realize I’m about to have company. “Please don’t come in here, August,” I pleaded. Instead of a response, the door swings open, and a very naked August meets my gaze. I must look at a sight. Hunched over the toilet, naked, with tears streaming down my face as I clutch my stomach. He takes me in for only a moment before he’s kneeling on the tiles beside me. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are gentle as he gathers my hair in his fist and pulls me back into his hard body. His warmth comforts my shivering body, and I can’t help but relax back into him. I shake my head. This is mortifying. As if being taken by the enemy isn’t bad enough, I’ve then proceeded to start to like him, and now I have to talk about my period? Absolutely not. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a wooden spoon.

August tenses at my silence, but his hold on me remains soft. He doesn’t strike me as someone who has ever looked after someone like this, but he’s surprisingly good at it. “I need you to tell me what’s going on, Bee. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.” “You can’t fix it anyway,” I croak right before another cramp grabs hold and a spasm shoots down my leg. “I’ll burn the entire world down for you, Bee . I can have a doctor here in ten minutes, but I need to know what they’re treating to make sure I get the right one.” His words are strained, and I almost wonder if he’s struggling to see me in so much pain. The man who causes grievous bodily harm and murders people for a living, doesn’t like seeing me like this, and that makes my heart do a flip in my chest. “A doctor can’t do anything for me. Plenty have tried, but this is just how it is.” The admission only makes me feel sorrier for myself. This has happened every month for the last thirteen years, and no medication, or birth control, has even begun to mellow out the symptoms, some of them even made them worse.

 August lets out a breath and nods against my back. “Your period.” It’s not a question and I almost roll my eyes at myself. Of course he knows. Of course the man who has stalked me for the last decade knows about my long sordid history with every doctor in the city. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and yet it does. “Yes,” I murmured . Silence falls over us, and I find myself relaxing more and more into his warmth. August brings a sense of calm to my usually active mind, and it’s nice to lean into the quiet for a little while, especially as my body revolts against itself. “Are you still feeling sick?” August asks quietly, his breath whispering across my bare shoulder. I’d all but forgotten I’m naked because he’s been keeping me warm. “No.” I shake my head, barely able to move even to do that. “Let’s get you in the shower. The warmth might help.” He stands carefully, never allowing my body to leave his, before lifting us both from the ground altogether. 

The moment my eyes lock with a small patch of blood on the pail white tiles, my entire body heats with embarrassment. I’ve never been more mortified than I am right now, and I’ve done some pretty embarrassing things that have ended up on the front page of the New York Times. August’s gaze follows mine and a chuckle rumbles in his chest. “Little Honey bee, I kill people for a living. Do you really think a little blood is going to gross me out?” “It’s different,” I mutter to him. He uses his free hand to tip my chin up until my eyes meet his. “No, it’s not. It’s natural, and you don’t have to hide these things from me. We’re a partnership, and if one of us is in pain, or not feeling well, the other is always going to want to help in any way they can. If that means I have to clean up a little bit of blood, so be it. I’d do it a thousand times over if it meant it would help you.” I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I’m completely speechless. No man has ever been willing to use the word ‘period’ around me, let alone buy sanitary items or even see me naked during that time of the month, and yet August takes it in his stride, and more than that, he wants to help. He wants to make me feel better while I’m at my lowest, and as if it were ice in a river, some of my resolve to hate the man who has taken me from my life cracks. August Walker is nothing like the man I thought he would be, and I’m beginning to think that maybe he was right. Maybe ten years ago when he saw me across a crowded room and decided that someday I would be his, perhaps he was right about it all. Because if I’m honest with myself, my heart is starting to beat in time with his cold, dead one.

August’s POV

Scooping my sweet little honey bee into my arms as I walked her into the shower and turned the water on and watched as the steams billowed out the top. Sitting her on the built-in bench as I grabbed her lofa and her body wash and began to wash her up. She tries to stop me but i shove her hands away “Bee, let me do this” she sneers at me before leaning her head back as i was the trickle of blood from her legs. Cleaning her up, I stand to tower over her tiny frame “Take all the time you need, I’ll be right back.” she nodded as I closed the shower door behind me. Going over to the closet, i pull out the mattress protector and extra sheets, i throw on some grey sweatpants and head down stairs, i toss her pjs into the dryer to get warm and i cut up some strawberries, for her, i sweet snack but not a heavy one and made her a cup of peppermint tea for the nausea. The timer for the dryer goes off, I pull out the stuff and head back up stairs, “Bee” I called as I made my way into her room. “I'm leaving pjs for you on the sink” i heard a soft thank you as i close the door with a soft click, making my way over to the bed, I take the heating pad,  turning it on for her, and pulling back the blankets, i set the plate of fruit off to the side of the bed as the bathroom door opens and the steam billows out. 

I walked over and scooped her up, as she protested and beat her small hand against my chest, i climbed into bed with her and position her on my lap and drape the heating pad over her, and gave her the cup of peppermint tea “For the nausea” she nodded and took a small sip, then leaned back and sighed. Placing kisses along her hair line and down the side of her head, i turned on her favorite movie, she snuggled up close at set her tea down, picking at the strawberries i brought up for her, within 20 minutes of the movie, she was passed out softly snoring on my chest. Reaching over and turning off the lights, I pull her further down into the blankets and just watch my little honey bee sleep, like I've done so many times. 

[venturismcdonald]

"I miss you, I'm sorry" by Gracie Abrams is so Dasey, a complete analysis (inspired by @filmmakerdreamst having it on their playlist for Dasey.) It's canon compliant angsty goodness. And fuck it, I'm making it Derek's point of view for shits and giggles.

I had so much fun doing this, please request other songs for me to do because these are a blast.

Do you remember happy together? I do, don't you? Casey gets engaged a few months after he leaves and Derek is fucking destroyed. They were happy. He knows he ruined it but still, fuck, he didn't think she'd fall in love so quickly. Were they just fake? He must've just been a rebellion, just like he worried. The perfect keener princess's one spot of rebellion, it didn't mean anything to her.

Then all of a sudden, you're sick to your stomach. Is that still true? She might've not been the one to run away, but to say Casey was completely innocent in their dissolution would be a lie. It wasn't because she was anxious, it's because she met Simon and threw up because they'd gotten the call he was being born while making out. Is she still pretending nothing happened?

You said "forever," in the end I fought it. Derek ran. He fought it just as hard as she did, if not harder, for years, but the concept of a long term relationship with a girl who wouldn't even hold his fucking hand when they were home... Yeah, he fought that. It broke his heart in ways that probably can't be healed (which is so stupid. Because Casey obviously doesn't give a fuck. He was just her rebellion and freshman mistake) because they were on the precipice of labeling what they were when he ran away.

Please be honest, are we better for it? Despite popular opinion, Derek isn't a complete idiot. He knows he was worse for running away at first, knew it the moment he boarded the plane. But he might be better too. Without running away, they never would've had the kids. Still, his stupid heart worries he's wrong. That it was the biggest mistake of his life.

Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called. The expected outcome was for Casey to fucking hate him and never speak to Derek again. Instead of that, she was the first to initiate contact after he left with just a note to her.

And said, "I miss you." I caught it. She missed him. What a fucking thought, that the girl who Derek loved so much it was a physical pain in his chest. And now here she is, confessing (in a whisper so quiet Derek would've missed it was he not a pathetic shell of a pining man) that she misses him.

Good to each other, give it the summer. They agreed: wait the summer out to see each other in person. It would allow any remaining feelings to go away.

I knew, you too. Better than anyone else on the planet, Derek knows Casey. And she knows him in the same way.

But I only saw you once in December. Christmas became the only time they saw each other. And even then, with the kids and careers and Derek touring, Christmas wasn't always when they'd see each other. They just didn't. It sucked but they didn't see each other.

I'm still confused. It's been over a decade since their moment. But Jesus, Derek still can't still screw his head on around her. He still has so many questions about their Kingston days and his own feelings, but especially Casey's.

You said "forever" and I almost bought it. If Casey wouldn't panic every time Simon was brought up, every time someone even mentioned their siblings, he would've bought that she believed in a future for them. One with labels and a defined relationship. But he was smart and knew she was an inch from running away if he didn't.

I miss fighting in your old apartment. Fighting about absolutely anything was a rush. Casey... Fighting her is wired to turn him on, alright? So yeah, of course he misses fighting her. Anywhere. But in college, in her shitty dorm, fights could end in such fun ways.

Breaking dishes when you're disappointed. Did she ever actually break a dish? No, Casey thought that was a waste of money. They came pretty damn close doing the dishes at George and Nora's a few times when he'd do something particularly annoying and instead of doing the flush bright pink all the way down to her toes thing, she'd just get quiet.

I still love you, I promise. With every single woman in London, so many random one night stands to try and get over her, none worked. Derek Venturi has been in love with Casey McDonald for what's probably a pathetic amount of time.

Nothing happened in the way I wanted. Sometimes, when Sky's with her mom for the weekend and he's out with the boys, Derek will think back to his stupid teenage fantasies. A life, kids with Casey, getting her to split his name once a day and always, always making her smile. That's what he wanted. Not this weird friendship where there are so many things they don't talk about (Kingston and Peter, mainly) and there's an ocean between them.

Every corner of this house is haunted. Part of why Derek visits home so rarely is that every inch of George and Nora's has a memory with Casey, she's fucking everywhere. Like a... Evil ghost or something. Whatever it is, she is responsible and evil. And now she took over their new house! And he's living in her goddamn guest house and really, Derek should stop calling places home if he doesn't want them to be haunted by Casey.

And I know you said that we're not talking. Not in so many words, but there were a couple of years there where they just didn't talk. He got it; Casey has responsibilities and was in law school while raising a toddler and dealing with a neglectful husband but still. It hurt.

But I miss you, I'm sorry. Even when she's just a few dozen yards away, Derek misses Casey like a hole in the head. And heart.

I don't wanna go, think I'll make it worse. Once they're reunited at George and Nora's, Derek knows leaving means going to a life knowing Casey's drowning and that's the last thing he wants. Staying is for her benefit as much as it is his own.

Everything I know brings me back to us. Music equals Casey, hockey equals Casey in his jersey (a dangerous thought), for fuck's sake, having a kid equals Casey. Everything is Casey, somehow. It's disgusting. He kinda loves it.

I don't wanna go, we've been here before. Because really, they've been together. He doesn't want to leave because he's had this gut feeling him and Casey are on the edge of something before. This is his chance to not fuck it up.

Everywhere I go leads me back to you. For god's sake, he went to Paris to get away from her and it didn't work. Casey is what the Derek Venturi compass always points to and he is simply a man. Who is he to deny destiny or whatever the fuck it is that has his heart practically labeled with her name?

[spaceyflowerswriting]

hi adrienn <33 if requests are open then can i request for a fic with seongjun? with like a one sided love- reader is in love with seongjun but he isn't >:D thankss <33

in another life (seongjun x reader)

details: angst drabble, gender neutral reader written in 2nd pov, general canon au, one sided love with reader liking seongjun, seongjun and reader are friends

summary: unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be. fortunately, the two of you managed to stay friends. you couldn't help but continue to yearn, though.

a/n: hii <33 thanks so much for requesting !!

×

A week was not nearly enough time to heal, but any longer and the both of you feared the friendship was going to fall apart. That was the last thing either of you wanted, so awkwardly you both went back to hanging out, and by some miracle, things went back to normal.

Almost. It was easier on Seongjun's side, of course.

"It's not like he was the one who confessed and got rejected."

You scoffed at the bitterness that seeped through the words in your mind, though you wholeheartedly meant it in a logical way. He wasn't in love with you, so he didn't have to lock those feelings in a box and throw them away forever like you did.

"His feelings were still hurt, too, though. It sucks feeling like you're going to lose a friend because you don't romantically love them like they love you."

The acknowledgement of his feelings made you sigh and nod to yourself. You mumbled some words, telling yourself to just enjoy the evening but your mind went on to throw a pity party for yourself anyway. It wasn't until Seongjun came back that you were able to somewhat snap out of it.

"Sorry that took so long, I spilled some stuff and had to clean it up," he said, chuckling as he sat next to you on the couch. His chuckle died off along with his smile when he saw your expression. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, it's just..." Laughing nervously, you looked away from him to the TV, currently paused in the middle of an episode. "The scene we're at is emotional, and the longer I think about it, the more sad I get about it."

He was quiet for a second too long, and immediately you began to feel heartache.

You knew he knew.

The small smile and soft laugh he let out only worsened your pain. "Yeah, the main character losing his best friend..." He cleared his throat and faced the TV as well, wrapping an arm around you like he was doing before. Silently, he grabbed the TV remote and continued the episode.

As the character on screen cried and began to reminisce, your mind wandered.

There was a mixture of melancholy feelings and shame when Seongjun's face formed in your mind, and your thoughts began to tumble.

You pictured his pretty hair. You pictured the way he'd smile when you traced his tattoos while you were bored, the looks he gave you when you both made an inside joke, and you remembered the welcoming embraces he would give you every now and then.

His warmth next to you at the moment was only a fleeting comfort. You wanted more, but you loved him so you knew better. Still, you were human. You were allowed to have emotions, you were allowed to be selfish, as long as you didn't hurt anybody.

"And indulging in this a little won't hurt him," you thought to yourself, leaning your head to rest on his shoulder.

The evening passed quietly.

[classicsubliminalbo]

Fleur-de-lis 6: Disobedience

Originally published Nov 30, 2013 This series has been retconned

Though Adriana had left Lindsay with zero orders, she was happy to find a new life's purpose in service. And serving felt great. For the first time in her life, Lindsay didn't have to worry about silly life things, because she wasn't the one controlling her life anymore. When an important decision came along down the road, Lindsay knew that Fleur-de-lis would take care of it for her. Now she was free to enjoy the simple things in life, like pleasure. And there were some interesting changes in that part of her life too. Lindsay had never questioned her sexuality before, but after that day in the dressing room, she began losing herself in these strange fantasies. Fucking other women, taking their will the same way Adriana had taken hers. This was a problem, because Lindsay was a Victoria's Secret Angel, and she worked with some of the most beautiful women in the world. Now deep into shooting for the fall catalog, Lindsay was finding it hard to focus on her work.

Backstage at the studio, Lindsay could only watch in repressed sexual frustration at the sight of Candice slipping into her tight lingerie.

"Your face is so red," Candice observed. "Are you okay?" Lindsay looked into Candice's eyes, and she saw all of that life. The same bright eyes she'd had before Adriana had enslaved her. Lindsay wanted nothing more than to take Candice right there. To brainwash her just like Adriana had done to Doutzen and herself. That thought made her so horny. But Adriana had given her an order, and she couldn't disobey.

"Lindsay?" Candice repeated. "Lindsay, you're drooling..." "Fuck me," Lindsay blurted. "Excuse me...?"

She wasn't allowed to enslave Candice, but Adriana had never said anything about fucking. "I need it, Candice," she moaned, stumbling toward her coworker. Candice struggled as Lindsay pulled a nipple free from her bra and started to suck. "You taste so good." "Let go of me!" Candice cried, pushing Lindsay away. "What the fuck!"

This could be Lindsay's only chance. If she made the move now, she could have Candice on her knees, willfully eating her out within the next hour. But those weren't her orders, so she only watched as Candice pulled her bra up and stormed away.

Everything was boring now. Adriana had given Lindsay a preview of this new life, but then she slammed the door. Now her new world as a mindless thrall was beginning to feel an awful lot like her modeling career. She wanted to do something, she wanted to brainwash people too!

And that was when Lindsay's hairdresser came in. "Where's Candice?" he asked. "Isn't she shooting today too?" "She left," Lindsay whispered. "Got sick."

"Fuck," the hairdresser whispered. "I swear to god if she's pregnant it'll throw the whole season in a tailspin." "Mikey," Lindsay said. "I want to show you something."

A few days later, Lindsay received an unexpected visit from Adriana. It was the first time Adriana had visited Lindsay's apartment in New York, and she was shocked to be greeted by one of the secretaries at work, a young brunette of so little consequence Adriana couldn't even remember her name. She did know, however, that it was unusual for the young woman to greet her at Lindsay's apartment in her underwear. "Mistress Lindsay does not want to be disturbed," the girl said. "Mistress?" Adriana frowned. "It's okay," Lindsay's voice echoed from behind the secretary. "You can let her in." As the secretary ushered Adriana in, she was surprised to recognize four people from work. Two women sat naked and motionless on her couch, staring blankly forward at her wall, while a man who looked an awful lot like one of Victoria's Secret's hairdressers was eating Lindsay out on the love seat.

"Lindsay!" Adriana gasped. "Is that Mikey? You know he's gay, right?"

"Not anymore," Lindsay breathed. "He's terrible in bed. It makes him pretty happy to eat me, but he's pretty useless." "What did you do to all of these people?" Adriana asked. "The same thing you did to me. I didn't have the technology you had so I, ah..." Lindsay tensed up as she started to cum. "Improvised." "You hypnotized these people?" "I Googled it," Lindsay shrugged. Adriana's frown sunk lower. "You can't do this, Lindsay. Fleur-de-lis is not happy." "Why?" Lindsay asked. "Don't you see? I'm a natural. All of these people worship me! For the first time in my life people are actually doing things for me, and I think the company should see the advantage in that." "They don't, Lindsay. You were never part of the plan." "Then why does it matter? You only want models, you don't care about these people."

"You need to stop." Adriana said. "Maxwell knows about this. She thinks you're out of control and if I can't talk you down, I've been ordered to stop you."

With a frown, Lindsay pushed Mikey away from her pussy and stood up to look her mistress in the eyes. "So that's an order?" "Yes. I command you to stop this." "Your will is my command, Mistress." Lindsay droned.

Adriana breathed a relieved sigh and said, "You need to release these people. People will start asking questions and Fleur-de-lis can't be exposed." "Yes, Mistress," Lindsay repeated.

"Good," Adriana nodded, and she turned around to find the secretary blocking her path to the door. "Don't let her go, Abigail," Lindsay commanded. "I cannot let you leave," the secretary said. "My Mistress commands it." "Lindsay," Adriana sighed. "You're making a mistake." "You're making a mistake. You betrayed me, Adriana. And now you must be punished. Slaves," Lindsay snapped her fingers and all four of her servants rose to attention. "Restrain her." "Yes, Mistress Lindsay..." they droned in monotone unison.

[laurensbookshelves]

Why I Create Book Content

What is content creation? According to Conductors website content creation is "the process of identifying a new topic you want to write about, deciding which form you want the content to create, formalizing your strategy, then producing it." (Bhutani, 2023). I fall under the category of being a content creator - albeit a very small one. However, that means I make and create videos or posts specifically surrounding books. Now you might be asking - "Lauren, why would you make content around books? Isn't the act of reading dying?" To which I would repsond that reading is one of the things that saved my life and countless others as well. Books allow us to be taken out of the real world and into a new one, where we can let ourselves and our imagination run wild without bearing the consequences of the characters actions. However, if you find a really good book you may get sucked in enough that the characters feelings morph into your own.

Books are one of the things that changed my life which is how I ended up in English Literature at Trent University, although that's a whole other story for another time. As a young teen girl growing up in the 2000s I was exposed to the internet at such a young age and was given such easy access to it by the time I was twelve. That exposure led me to countless Youtube videos of teenage girls who read books and shared their love of reading on the internet. Growing up I'd always imagined myself doing the same, but some complications arose because I was a slow reader, which made me insecure to share my feelings so openly towards others. In 2020 - a time we all remember well, when the pandemic broke out, I found myself scrolling for hours on Tiktok and found myself on Booktok, a very niche side of the internet that shared everyone's love of reading. I was so excited to watch people's videos on the books they'd read that month, or the special editions they had accumulated, and especially the book hauls, and I remember thinking to myself, "maybe now's you're time to give this social media thing a go." A few weeks later I created and made my first video titled "The Books I Read in October and My Ratings", a lengthy title I know... The video was most definitely out of focus in some parts and my camera work was shaky, but it ignited a new passion I didn't think I had in me. I've since then kept posting and have gained over 500 followers on Tiktok and 200 on Instagram. I've had books sent to me, and most recently I became apart of Simon and Schuster's influencer program, meaning they'll send me arcs of books not yet released in exchange for my thoughts and opinions. All of these amazing opportunities have arose because of one common factor - social media and its power.

Booktok has allowed me to connect with people over the books I enjoy, through the content I'm creating. It has permitted me to design my page to however and whatever I desire, while also making it incredibly easy to change if that aesthetic no longer fits me. Booktok in itself has had a massive impact on the sales of books but also in gaining traction to bookstores, both independently and chains. Not only has it boosted the sales, but it's also had an impact on the types of books being produced, cover designs, preferred tropes and so much more. The #Booktok in itself has been used over 183.6 billion times, and that number is going up as you read this! It has formed a community, which in turn has helped millions of authors and publishers because the platforms like Tiktok permit us the accessibility in which we can receive arcs, or form partnerships with authors and publishers. It has also led to aspiring authors or indie authors the possibility to have their work seen amongst a larger audience - all by making a minute long video talking about what your book is about.

We all hear teachers nowadays talk about how advanced technology is, and how easy it is to find resources, but what about how easy it is to create something for the world and have it instantaneously change your life. For many young people like myself social media has made that possible. In an article written by Forbes, titled, "The Power of Social Media to Capture Today's Consumer" Julie Meredith comments, "The fluid nature of social media makes it the perfect launchpad for storytelling, product launches and new initiatives" (Meredith 2022). It's clear that when it comes to businesses or people wanting create a business, social media becomes a critical option to consider because of how easy it is to promote your business or yourself. With the right hashtags and being able to understand your audience, a person can find easy success among these platforms. An added benefit to content creation, or at least it's a benefit in my eyes, is that you can create whatever you want while also providing your audience with their desires, you just need to first find your audience. That's why visuals are so important because Social media has also allowed for us to use visuals in order to draw in an audience or in building a brand which can help to inspire their audience. Because of technology we are also given real time stats on how are videos and posts are doing, and in what regions they are most popular, which helps us to see our targeted audience.

Works Cited

Allie BhutaniAllie leads the Brand team at Conductor managing content. “What Is Content Creation? 3 Steps to Creating Web Content.” Conductor, www.conductor.com/academy/content-creation/. Accessed 5 Oct. 2023.

Meredith, Julie. “Council Post: The Power of Social Media to Capture Today’s Consumer.” Forbes, Forbes Magazine, 12 Oct. 2022, www.forbes.com/sites/forbescommunicationscouncil/2020/06/25/the-power-of-social-media-to-capture-todays-consumer/?sh=6c99ef19789e.

[youandtom2]

omg the insomnia fic was so CUTE! can i request like roommate peter and reader? maybe reader has a “i don’t date roommates” policy but they’re still really into each other?

OOOOOOOHHHHH I like. Okay *cracks knuckles* here we go. I wrote this really quickly so I hope this didn't turn out too much like garbage...

Insomnia fic mentioned > Sweet Dreams My Love

DEFINITELY YES NOT

"No. No way. You are not adding anymore hot sauce-"

"But it just needs a slight kick, I'm telling you-"

"Who's cooking here, Peter? Me. I'm cooking. Feel free to add hot sauce to your own portion but you're not adding it to the whole pot."

"But then that means I need to add it every time I take a portion-"

"Boo hoo, Peter. Suck it up."

Peter huffs and directs a critical, scathing look towards you with the hot sauce in hand. It's bad enough that your kitchen is barely big enough to fit the two of you, but when you are both equally possessive over the kitchen and the cooking, it makes for a very argumentative dinner time. And tonight is no exception.

During the semester when you had two other people living in the apartment, you would all religiously follow the kitchen rota so that everyone had a chance to cook what they wanted, but it was primarily used to keep the peace between you. With Spring break around the corner and the apartment being two people short, the rota became completely redundant. You quickly sensed that the peace was at threat of being breached, because without the other roommates, who was going to cook on the days they're not here?

It was the million dollar question.

Worse yet, your roommates were the prime distraction for your ever-growing attraction towards Peter; people who could dull the murmur in your heart when he was near, or who could calm your nerves when Peter would casually flirt with you. You needed them there because you couldn't allow yourself to fall for another roommate again, not after last year when your ex banished you from the apartment and left you struggling to get back up onto your feet for weeks. It was a relationship that completely broke you and you vowed to never make the same mistake again.

With back-up gone, you're now left to your own devices. Alone with Peter.

Peter's presence soon looms behind you, his head hanging over your shoulder supervising as you stirred the boiling pot in front of you. He's so close, in fact, that you can just feel the swift brushing of his chest against your back, so close that you can feel the breezing of his breath fanning down your neck, and close enough that his scent lingers aimlessly in front of you.

Oh my God-

No, no, no. No way. No roommates, remember? It fucked you over last time. It's not happening again.

You try and not let Peter affect you, keeping your mind focused on not burning the food.

With one hand on his hip and the other resting on the counter beside you, you can just tell that he's judging you in some way. You don't even need to look.

"You're not stirring quick enough, you're going to burn it!" He exclaims. Instantly, he encases your hand in his own, taking control of the wooden spoon and speeding up your movements. It only takes a few seconds to realise when his other hand grabs the handle of the pot to stable it that you're completely surrounded by him, trapped in his presence and you can't escape. This isn't helping...

"It wasn't going to burn, calm down."

"Oh, is that right? Look at the bottom of this pot." You raise to your tiptoes to see the slight blackness of the mince congregating below with just the hint of Peter's stupid smirk in your peripheral. Pfft, barely burnt..."I think I'll take over now."

"No way."

"This isn't up for debate. It's my turn now sweetheart, you've had your chance."

Before your stomach even has a chance to flutter at his words, you feel the weight of Peter's arm wrapping neatly around your waist, growing in pressure as he effortlessly lifts you from where you stand and carries you out of the kitchen. "Peter!" He keeps a firm hold of you even as your feet flail madly in the air, cruising easily through the hallway and into the dining room. Peter's hands curve easily around your waist and threaten with a soft squeeze every time you try to slip from his grasp. Your movements cease the minute he sits you down at head of the dining table, already prepared with a napkin, cutlery and a glass of wine. The exact same set up is prepared just ahead of you, separated by two small tea candles. When did this get set up?

"What...what is this," you softly chuckle, suddenly feeling unnerved by it all... "I'm just gonna get back-"

A soft squeak is let loose the moment Peter swoops in to kiss you, resolute and confident. His finger tips sidle along the length of your jaw, holding you down and keeping you in your seat as you melt to his touch. "Can't you just let a guy make you dinner?"

You're too stunned to speak, releasing just a single stutter while you watch him leave the room with a cheeky grin plastered across his lips. His kiss leaves a buzz on your lips and in the stillness of the room, you sit with your fingertips tracing along the edge of your lips, adoring the way his warmth lingers. The moment replays over and over again, stuck in a loop in your mind until your diffidence is completely contradicted by the immediate groan of frustration that leaves your throat. Everything Peter is doing is going against every single rule you set yourself, and it's making you question your own moral integrity. It just makes everything so much more complicated. He is just supposed to be your roommate and nothing else. A friend, perhaps.

But what is he vying for?

The shock doesn't quite alleviate and your still chewing on the ends of your fingers by the time he returns, holding two platefuls of food, its aroma immediately flooding the room.

"Thank you," you mutter quietly.

"I hope it's not too burnt," he chuckles, sitting directly across from you. "I tried to salvage what you ruined."

"Hey, it wasn't ruined."

"It would never have been burnt in the first place if you just let me cook!"

"Well you know I wouldn't have given in so easily."

"I was accounting for that. You were never going to give into me easily, were you?"

You look up, eyebrows scowling in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I made it so obvious to you that I really fucking liked you but you didn't respond to any of it. At all. I just kissed you and you've completely brushed over it. I didn't understand why until MJ told me about your 'policy'." You note the way his voice deflates, eyes drifting further and further away from you.

"It's nothing against you, Peter." Without thinking, your hand reaches over to his, fingers curling around it almost desperately to plead your case. Peter's eyes glance at it, a soft twinkle flickering with affection. After a short sigh, he finally returns to you.

"I know. She also told me why you have that policy. I guess I thought that I needed to prove to you that I'm not like your jerk of an ex-boyfriend, I would never do anything like that to you! I would do anything to convince you of that."

Your eyes latch onto the meal in front of you, the wine, the lit candles, the way he stares at you longingly from across the table, and for a fleeting moment, his lips. He did all of this for you.

There's an unmissable sincerity in his voice, and partnered with the devotion in his eyes, it wipes away the doubt in your heart and any remnants of the pain from last years' heartbreak.

You take a large breath in, letting it fill your lungs for just a couple of seconds before relieving the tension.

"I believe you." And you really do.

Peter halts mid-mouthful, shock evident in those wildly brown eyes of his. He swallows and looks up to you with an endearing hope.

"So...so are you saying you'll take a chance with me?"

Your lips stretch, heart fluttering. "Yeah," you whisper.

Peter instantly throws his napkin onto the table and you laugh as you watch him march over towards you with a beaming confidence that has you swooning. His hands find the warmth of your cheeks, practically lifting you from your chair to meet with his lips and just like before, you melt into him with a hum. The kiss lasts a few seconds longer than before with Peter finally knowing that his efforts had paid off.

"There's one thing though..." you mutter against his lips, breathless.

"What?"

"Stop putting a whole bottle of hot sauce in the fucking food. My mouth is on fire."

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

Chris Evans x virgin!reader

This isn't a series (yet), just the first one shot from the same mini verse. You don't need to read part 2, but you can!

>Part 2>

Warnings: 18+ readers, smut, swearing, oral (f-receiving), fingering, breast play?, loss of virginity, protected!sex, m/f, age gap but not specified (reader of age)

Chris was in love with you. As he sat watching you talk to his mother and his family throughout the night, smiling and laughing, having light debates and being your general wonderful self, Chris realised, even though your relationship with Chris was farly new, he loved you.

You'd only lived in Boston about a year or so, and as a way to make friends after a couple of months, your neighbours invited you to a BBQ. That's where you met Chris' brother, Scott. Over the following months your friendship grew and before you knew it, Scott had convinced you to let him set you up on a date with his brother. It was definitely a shock when you walked into the coffee shop and realised who exactly Scott's brother, and your date was.

"Would you like to come in?" You whispered against Chris' lips as the two of you stood at your front door later that night.

Chris pulled back from you with a lazy smile, brushing his fingers against your forehead, moving your hair. "It's getting late, sweetheart."

You nodded, "I know, but, I thought you could, maybe, spend the night." You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "I, I've been thinking... That, I... I'm ready." You whispered, your fingers stroking over Chris' chest.

Chris' eyes widen at first in surprise before he broke out into a softer smile. "You serious, baby girl? I don't want you doing this for me."

You shook your head, "No, I know, but... Tonight, meeting your family and seeing the way you kept, smiling at me," You blushed, smiling bashfully at him as Chris also blushed. He hadn't thought you'd noticed him. "It made me realise that, I... Want to share this, first, with you, and no one else... I, love you, Chris."

Chris' heart filled with so much love and his eyes watered as he broke out into a giant grin. He reached up and cupped your face, crashing his lips against yours in a loving kiss, pressing you against your front door. He pulled back with a satisfied hum, making you giggle at him. "I love you too." He whispered.

You nodded, reaching up to brush his small tears away. "Will you come in?"

Chris nodded, "Of course, baby." He leaned in to give you one final kiss before allowing you to open the door.

You stepped inside, only for to Chris quickly bend down and pick you up bridal style, kicking the door shut.

"A bit of warning would have been nice." You playfully scolded Chris, giggling as he carried you.

"I'm being romantic." He chuckled. He carried you into your bedroom and gently placed you back on your feet. He carefully reached up and held your face between his large hands as he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a loving kiss. He pulled back with a smile, "We can go as slow or as fast as you like, baby. Okay?"

You nodded with a smile, "Okay."

With one more kiss, together you began to undress. Every other piece of clothing you'd share a kiss or press one to a newly exposed piece of skin. Your fingertips trailed across Chris' chest and over his shoulders as Chris ran his hands over your waist and up your back. With ease, Chris unclipped your bra, letting your breasts fall free.

Your head fell back as Chris cupped each of your breasts, leaning down and kissing your neck in the right spot, making you moan.

"You're so beautiful, baby." He let out a breathy moan against your neck. He moved his head and flicked his tongue over one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.

"Oh," Your mouth fell open as you threaded your fingers through his hair. "Chris,"

He stood up straight with a smile. "Can I taste you, baby?"

"Always." You grinned up at him excitedly.

You may be a virgin, but you weren't a prude. You and Chris had shared quite a few intermet moments with each other. You'd had the pleasure of not only having Chris' mouth bringing you pleasure, but you'd also brought him pleasure with yours.

Chris carefully laid you down on your bed before pulling your already damp panties off, throwing them over his shoulder with a smirk. "So, beautiful." He pushed your knees apart and leaned in, running his tongue up the length of your slit.

Chris slowly licked and sucked your core, moaning against you as he enjoyed his most favorite meal, his large ehamds kneading your thighs. Your eyes rolled back and your fingers tugged at Chris' hair. His tongue swirled around your clit before dipping inside your dripping slit, tongue fucking you as his fingers dug into the round of your ass cheeks.

A deep, drawn out moan left your mouth as Chris sucked your clit between his pink lips as he inserted two of his thick fingers.

"Fuck, baby," Chris moaned against you, "I love your pussy."

"Chris, I-" Your back arched as you pushed Chris' face closer to you. Your eyes rolled back as Chris fingered you and sucked your clit hard. "Yes!" You cried out, cuming hard around Chris' fingers.

Chris drank everything up, loving your sweet taste. You let out a soft whimper as Chris withdrew his fingers. "Good girl," He smiled breathlessly as he took in your post-orgasmic state. "How you feel, baby?"

You hummed, stretching your arms up and ran your fingers through your hair, grinning to yourself. "Wonderful." You let out a small giggle.

Chris grinned down at you. "Want to carry on, sweetheart? We don't hav-"

"Please!" You pushed yourself up, sliding your hand over his shoulder and up the back of his neck. "I need you." You whispered.

Chris smiled lovingly before pressing his lips against yours. "You've got me." He whispered then crashed his lips against yours. It was all tongue and teeth as he laid you back down, his large hands holding you.

Your gaze burned into Chris' skin as you watched him rid himself of his boxers before moving over to your bedside table to grab the condoms you bought in preparation. Your mouth watered at the sight of him handling himself.

"You're drooling, doll." Chris smirked as he settled between your legs.

You shut your mouth quickly and looked away, feeling your face begin to blush.

Chris pinched your chin and raised your head so you'd look at him. "Ready, baby?" He whispered, lightly kissing the corner of your lips.

You nodded, "Ready." You panted.

Chris pressed his lips firmly against yours before slipping his tongue between your lips. As he devoured your mouth, trailing his finger tips down your neck and down the front of your chest teasingly slow, he used his other hand to guide his hard cock between your lower lips.

"Shh," Chris whispered as the head of his cock pushing inside you. You let out a startled gasp. He could feel your whole body tense. "I need ya' to relax, baby." He whispered and slowly trailed his lips across your cheek and below your ear.

Chris knew where to kiss to make your body tingle. He ran his tongue up the length of your neck before he lightly bit and sucked, leaving marks across your skin. He smirked victoriously as you moaned, relaxing under him and arched your back, allowing to sink further inside your wet core.

Chris held you close, all the time kissing and whispering praises in your ear. Slowly, you felt the pain subside and the pleasure build deep inside you. You both let out a deep, pleasured moans as he settled himself fully inside you.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking tight." Chris pressed his face against the side of your face. "Tell me when you're ready, baby."

You nodded taking a deep breath. "Okay..." You let out a soft sigh, squeezing your arms around Chris' body. "You can move." You whispered, pressing your lips against the side of Chris' face. "Please,"

As Chris began to pull his thick cock out of your warmth, you squeezed your thighs around his waist and dug your nails into skin, you could feel every inch of him. Chris soothed you with praises, pressing his plump lips against your temple as your moans got a little breathier.

"Fuck, baby," He panted, "Feel s'good..."

"M-more... Please, Chris," You moaned quietly.

"What?" He pushed himself up so he could see your pretty face. He watched your mouth fall open as he pushed a little harder, "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."

You moaned, lifting your hips to meet Chris'. "More, please."

Chris pushed himself up so he was hovering above you, spreading his knees so he pushed your legs closer to your chest before slowly picking up the pace.

"Fuck!" You cried out, your hands wrapping around Chris' wrists as he began to fuck you.

"Open your eyes." Chris spoke firmly. Your eyes shot open and met his lust blown gaze. "Good girl." He smirked. The new dynamic caused your pussy to clench around Chris' cock. "Oh... Fuck, you like that, hmm?" He pushed a little harder.

You nodded biting your bottom lip.

Chris' eyes fell to your chest as your tits bounced with his harsh thrusts. He licked his lips and looked back up as your mouth fell open and let out a strangled gasp. Your walls tightened around him again.

"God damn!" Chris barked. His breath caught in his throat as you ran a hand down his side and over his hip until you let it rest on his ass cheek. "Feel good, baby?"

"Yes..." You slipped your other hand behind his hand and pulled him down into a passionate kiss that was all tongue and teeth.

Chris blindly slipped a hand between your bodies and pressed his thumb against your throbbing clit. Your nails dug into his skin as you pulled back and cried out pleasure. Your walls clamping around his cock as you came. Chris' face contorted in pleasure as he delivered a couple more harsher thrusts, working you through your orgasm before he came.

You weren't sure how long the two of you laid tangled in your sheets. You didn't care. You were happy, and content on just being there with Chris.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

When I Found You (Pt. 01 of 18)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader | Negan X daughter! Reader

Word count: 2 K

Summary: You saw Negan build his empire, saw your father become a monster, a murderer, and never had the courage to stand your ground. So everything you do it help as much people as you can, carrying the guilt of being part of it. But one day, your world is shaken when you find him, the man with blue eyes locked up inside a cage. You decide to help him, to keep his community safe. And for that, you'll have to pretend you and Daryl are in love... But how long until the lie becomes the truth?

Warnings: Some sensitive topics such as mentions and light descriptions of self-harm. (I kept it light, so don't worry about graphic descriptions.)

Next part (02) ->

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

A/N: I wanna special thanks (and give a lot of credit) to my absolutely awesome friend @multific, who helped me with a lot of ideas, and also with the final review of the text. Love you, girl!!

×

Blue Eyes

You're not the type of person who uses the end of the word as an excuse to have your way with things. To take what isn't yours, claim and keep it, just because you happen to have the upper hand. You never had it in you, the evilness, the darkness to fall into such position.

But here you are, surrounded by those who think otherwise.

Walking fast through the halls, your mind plays back everything you heard. You had to sit there, smile and nod, as Negan spoke about what he did. And what he plans to do. It makes you sick, almost to the point of throwing up what you had for lunch, only a couple of hours ago. Their description was graphic.

Negan told you all about how the guy's eyeball popped out, and how he was still standing.

You can deal with the dead, their falling skin, and disgusting, rotting corpses... But the living... Maybe it makes you a pussy, but you don't care. There's still humanity in you, and as stupid as it may be, you hope there's still a way of life that doesn't suck other people dry. A way to survive without having to steal, cheat or kill.

With a hand on your stomach, tears started to fill your eyes, you're relieved when you reach the hall, a breath flowing out as your fingers struggle with the locker.

This cell is the only place you feel alone. Where you allow yourself to cry. The only place you allow yourself to be weak.

Of course, it doesn't always work. Sometimes you break down in your apartment too, but still, you can't set yourself free from these cold, dark walls.

When the locker clicks, you sigh, sliding the metal door open. But the wave of relief is taken back as you freeze, your attention falling on the figure in the darkness, dirty and naked. His eyes, unbelievably blue, reflecting the light coming from the hall behind you, are quick to find yours.

For a moment, you wonder if this is real. With a hand holding the metal and the other flat next to your body, all words and thoughts seem to have left you. Whoever this man is, he's not only being held a prisoner. Nobody here is just a prisoner. They're always here for a reason, and they're treated like animals until they break.

You never saw anyone in this position, but your heart breaks for him. There's strength in his eyes, anger... But there's also pain.

“What are you doing here?” The voice snaps you out of your state, and you blink a few times, stepping back and turning to find Dwight.

Shaking your head lightly, you quickly remember to put on the act. It's better this way. “Excuse me?”

“Oh.” He exclaims before falling on one knee. “Forgive me.”

“What are you doing here?” You repeat his question, very aware of the man in the cell, feeling his eyes on you.

“I came to feed him.” Dwight stands back up, showing you the tray he's holding with a single sandwich that looks disgusting.

“What the hell is that?”

“Dog food.” He quickly answers, not seeming to be bothered by it. “Your father's orders.”

Your father's orders indeed.

Clenching your hand into fists, you take a deep breath. “Go and make me one of your sandwiches. The real thing.” Keeping your voice nice and soft, you take the tray from his hands. “Double that, actually. Let's have a nice meal together, you and I.”

Dwight furrows his eyebrows before nodding, leaving at a fast pace to follow your command. Of course, he finds it weird, you never spoke to him. But you don't care about what he thinks. Your instructions are to be followed, without questioning. As are Negan's.

Leaving the tray on a small wooden table near the wall, you turn back to the man. He didn't move, but his eyes are set on you.

You helped a lot of people here without Negan knowing about it because they were under his radar. But you get the feeling this man isn't. But still, you can't see yourself walking away, leaving him in this dark cell, eating that shit, and going through whatever your father has in store for him.

Quickly walking over to the cell, you stop by the door, unsure if you should step any closer. Crouching down, you wonder why he hasn't broken eye contact yet. There's a gun with you, secure in the holster attached to your thigh. But you hope you won't have to use it. “Hey.” You whisper, wondering what else could you say. “I'm sorry they're doing this to you.” They? You're part of this too, whether you want it or not. “I'll try to help–”

“(Y/N)?” The voice, familiar this time, makes you stand up. “What... The hell is going on?” Jim is quick to approach you, peaking inside the cell.

Sighing, you pull the door close, but only halfway. “Dwight, he...” Running a hand through your hair, you feel a little dizzy. But you must get it together. This is not the place to break down, someone else might come. “I came to the cell and found this man. Dwight is giving him dog food.”

“Alright, breath.” Jim holds both your arms, and you do as he says. He's the only one who knows how you feel. At least some of it. But he does know you come to this cell every once in a while, and he knows it makes you mad to see how some people are treated here. “What do you want to do about this?” He glances at the man, and you do the same. He seems... Interested in this conversation. And why wouldn't he be? This must sound like some kind of trap to him, coming from his captors.

“I don't know.” You start listening to footsteps, so you stand up straighter, as you feel like you're falling into character. It doesn't take much until Dwight comes to your sight, a small plastic Tupperware in his hand. “Good. Took you long enough.”

“I'm sorry for the delay. James.” He mutters, handing you the plastic box.

Taking a look at both sandwiches, you smile. They're delicious, you bet. “Well, let's eat.” Without any ceremony, you step inside the cell, reaching out your arm and giving that man the Tupperware.

“Wait.”

“Shut up.” You bark, as the man basically rips the thing from your hand after some seconds of hesitation, and starts devouring it. “You'll eat too, Dwight.” You say as you move back to the wooden table, leaning on it, both hands resting on each side of the tray.

Dwight scoffs, exchanging a glance with Jim. “I–”

“You know I never ask twice.” With a warning tone, you push the tray forward. “Eat.”

Your voice echoes a little as you raise it, growing impatient. You were deprived of a moment you needed so much, stomach feeling weird and head spinning. Push it back, you tell yourself. Keep it locked up. This isn't your cell, you can't break down now.

When Dwight takes the sandwich and bites it, you wish you could show off a bright smile, as Negan would. Happy to see your command followed, delighted to humiliate someone. But that's not how you feel at all.

Dwight chokes a little but swallows his bite, eyes on you, wondering if that was it. “How long has this man been here?”

“Some days. Three or four, I think.”

“And I believe you have been feeding him with this shit since the beginning, am I right?” Crossing your arms, you pace around. Dwight nods, and by the look on his face, you can tell he's waiting. Waiting for the next move, or some sort of torture. You could easily get it done. Negan backs you up about everything. You can throw Dwight into this very cell, feed him dog good for a week, burn him, cut off a finger or two... Anything you want.

This world belongs to you too, says Negan, and your desires must be attended to.

“Then finish your sandwich.” You simply say because you might have Negan's blood, but you don't share his principles.

Dwight is fast to obey, probably thinking it's best to just get done with it. And you watch, occasionally glancing at the man. He's cold, it suddenly gets to you. The nights are terrible, and the thought of him there, completely naked, shivering all night long makes you clench your hands into fists.

“I want you to stay here until my men come.” You start, a hard stare set on the blond. “They will carry out my orders, and if Negan happens to come here before they do, you'll find me immediately. Did I make myself clear?”

“Absolutely.” He sounds confused, and you can see the gears moving in his head as he tries to understand what you're doing.

But he doesn't have to know. “Great. Jim, c'mon.”

“Right away.” He mutters before following you.

•••

It does look like you have everything under control from the outside because inside your head, you're walking in the dark. Pacing around your living room, a hand playing with your lower lip, you try to come up with the next move.

A low knock on your door gets you moving, unlocking and pulling it open before allowing Jim to come inside.

“It's done.” He says, looking down at you as he takes something from his pocket. “He was set in the apartment and this is the key.”

Taking the small piece of metal, you hold it in your hand, bring the fist to your heart. “What do I do, James?” This was settled in a rush, and you don't know what your father wants with that man. You do feel better to know he's in a good place now, where he won't be cold or hungry. But the rest... You're clueless.

“I have bad news, (Y/N).” Jim starts, making his way over the couch. You follow but chose to stand on your feet. “I went around, listened to some people, and put the pieces together. That man's name is Daryl, and he's part of that group from Alexandria.”

“Shit.” You mutter, biting your index finger.

“Yeah, shit. Negan's hate for that group reaches a whole new level.”

“I know.”

“Alexandria is promising. And we know they're making alliances with different communities, so it means they won't only survive, they'll prosper. And have a hell of a good life as we have here. Maybe even better.”

“I know.” You repeat, eyes on the floor.

“Negan doesn't want to just take their stuff, he wants them to give him a reason so he can punish them.”

“I know.” Dropping to the couch beside him, you sigh. You had to listen, for hours, Negan talking about that group. How they fooled him, killed many of his men. And your father developed a fury towards Rick, their leader, that you never saw before. “I don't care, Jim. I'll tell father to leave them alone.”

“And what will you say when he asks why?”

“I'll say Daryl and I are friends.”

“(Y/N), you can't possibly think Negan will give up on a whole community over someone you befriend overnight.”

What would you do without Jim? He's the one to do the thinking when you're overwhelmed, unable to put things together. “I'll make him believe.”

“Your father does everything you ask, but without a believable reason, he'll think you're joking around and laugh at your face. You know it. You know him.”

Closing your eyes, you run a hand through your hair. “What should I do then?”

“Why do you want to help this man so much? You don't know him, he could be evil.” Jim touches your back, rubbing it softly.

“I know evil. I'm surrounded by evil men. He isn't. I saw it in his eyes...” You have no idea how to explain it, you just feel it. You just know it, somehow. “He's a good man, Jim. Trust me.”

“I do. And I might have an idea, but I'm damn sure this Daryl won't go with it.” Jim is suddenly thoughtful, that blank expression he makes when he's putting some sort of plan together. “It's quite crazy, but it might work. I can see Negan buying it if you work well.”

“I'm in. What is it?”

×

@riverscyberwife

[kirisaki-daichi-scenarios]

a discussion of jabberwock with team interaction hcs + deeper nash analysis

for anon who asked "Can we get some headcanons for jabberwock members or like headcanons when they're together? (its okay if it was jason or nash only)" and made me realise it's about time i get these guys' personalities down

note before we start: cause i didn't know their names until i wrote this

zack is the bald one, allen is the one with a headband, nick is the other white guy apart from nash.

team hcs

nick gets bullied for being under 6ft, but not by jason

nah good old jason teases all of them for being short fucks, emphasising that they’re all 5ft tall in comparison to him

he 100% lifts things out of the others' reach and then laughs for ages after when they try get them

unfortunately though, they’re all used to this and now just ignore him. either that or nash stares at him so intensely jason actually repents and hands it back

zack’s another one with a very good glare, but he’s used it too often on jason and it’s since stopped working.

also jason gives me ‘straightens his back as much as possible when getting measured so he’ll measure in as 7ft’ vibes

oh and he thinks he could wrestle a gator and win. i’ve got no explanation for that except for the fact you can't tell me it's ooc.

allen’s very protective over his white headband - it’s his lucky item - but he’d never let anyone know that

he’s confident in his abilities like the rest of them, but there’s nothing wrong with wearing a headband just in case

(nash knows anyway)

they watch nba matches together and do not shut up once throughout the entire match - lots of jeering, booing each other if someone criticises a player they like, lots of “i could do that”, lots of “get your fucking hand out of my popcorn do you want me to punch you in the face” etc

they used to all live together, but nash has since moved out. he was sick and tired of trying to make people do chores, as the only one who kept their room clean.

yeah the others’ house looks like a heap of trash but also very much “where’s my toothbrush?” “it’s in the third coke can by the orange peel behind the sink” *silence* “yeah thanks” *a minute later* “who the fuck has been using my toothbrush”

they’re all “bro your dribbling sucks why are you on this team loser” to one another, but also very protective (aka arrogant for one another) if anyone else Dared to criticise one of their teammates

then again, what kind of person would criticise jabberwock

half of the time he spends with jabberwock, nash is a Single Mother TM trying to get a bunch of man children to behave; the other half of the time, he's just as bad as the rest of them

i talk about this a lot but i get the feeling nash is an exceptionally hard worker, but at least he gets to let his hair down around his teammates sometimes

nash is also the only person jason thought was truly ‘strong’ at first sight

and nash is also the only person who can beat jason in a fight, and also the only person who can get nash to train, and also the only person who can.. [etc. you see my point].

(n.b jason calls himself the ‘almighty me’, nash says that ‘even god can’t beat me’. point made.)

you know how jason silver’s motto is “I have never thought”

imagine him proudly stating that, before zack adds with a straight face, “yeah cause nash does it for you.”

in short, the team would fall apart without nash.

although the team’s communication and coordination is very fine tuned, nash is the guy who keeps everything in order off the court to prevent what is essentially a team of aces ('main characters', if you will) from falling apart

they hang out together a lot, but do all have other friend groups that do not overlap

team bbqs

unofficial rule not to criticise anchovies on pizza because the one time nick did, nash snapped

however pineapple on pizza is fair game, even though zack quite likes it

more than once, jason has brought a girl home and nick has stolen her attention away with effortless trick shots, funky ball manoeuvring etc

more than once nick has had to trek to nash’s place (with a black eye) at midnight to have somewhere to sleep

do you see a correlation?

oh and everyone in the team has been walked in on by nash when they were naked with some girl

nash has absolutely no shame

he apologises to the girl with a charming albeit insincere tone, and then remains standing in front of the bed/couch until his teammate does what he expected of them

usually it involves not having come to practice

allen learnt a few (emphasis on ‘few’) words of japanese before they travelled to japan and was disappointed that he never got to use them

that said, one of those words was hentai

and now a quick analysis of some panels

a) so there's at least one player who wasn't underestimating vorpal swords. if i were to overanalyse, i'd add that nick's wearing a hoodie (possibly athletic wear) whilst nash has a 'fancy' shirt on; perhaps nick wasn't expecting them to be going to host clubs instead of chilling/training?

b) i know what you're thinking: "how can you say nash is a hard worker when he didn't want to practice for the match". i reckon he was still pretty high on the complete and utter success of their previous match, that plus being around girls, encouraged him to have a more 'jason-y' personality. (either that or fujimaki didn't want to add too much depth/realism into nash's character bc he's unequivocally the villain, right? and obviously this helps with the plot and the jabberwock bad geniuses gom good geniuses rhetoric.)

earlier, i mentioned how nash is the only one that could keep the team together, and is thus the undeniable head of the team; here's a clear example. you can see both jason and zack have no interest in continuing - if anything, there's disgust in their faces, kinda just saying "we spat on all of japan, now we can go home". whereas nash won't allow for the slightest of possibilities that there might exist a team stronger than them, and hence agrees to the match. the key thing here is that the others do as he says without too much fuss.

another thing to note is nash's reference to harakiri. now what can we make of that, alongside his proficiency in japanese, in relation to his character? the way i see it, he's either a weeb or possibly has some japanese lineage. (you could spin that even further and say his mother was japanese, taught him the language, then abandoned him, and hence his almost excessive hatred/mockery of the japanese people.) (is that why he wanted to do another match in japan..?)

just a quick point. "thanks to him" - jason isn't so superior as to think that he could win this match effortlessly without nash's support. links pretty nicely with my earlier idea about how nash is the only person jason has always considered 100% strong.

yet another point about how nash is the strongest of the team in pretty much every way you can think of. you know how scary/powerful you have to be to shut jason up (after he's getting real pissed from being prevented from scoring?)

i personally think this is a pretty important panel, though i've never seen anyone mention it before. did nash grow up training in a professional basketball training situation, as opposed to growing up playing streetball like i suspect the others did? well, to answer that question, imma bring in another panel.

here we see visible rage on nick, zack and jason's faces - they can't accept their loss, which is fair enough. but i'd argue that nash's face seems to depict sadness more than it does anger like to rest of them, look at how downturned his mouth is - and he's looking away from the 'camera', as if hiding his shame.

when you combine that with what he says here, i have no doubt that this is someone who has experienced some proper lows in basketball - as would be expected from someone who's played 'properly'. he's possibly not even a prodigy like the rest of them - compare jason's motto with his. "i have never thought" versus "do not suppose opportunity will knock twice at your door".

there's various lines of thinking you could design with this - he might have been trained by alex (hence, himuro having heard of jabberwock, though he should have known of a team as popular of jabberwock regardless), he might have grown up with professional basketballer parents etc. but here's my own little theory:

nash received serious basketball training from early on - maybe because his parents were living vicariously through him, or maybe he always loved the sport and wanted to be no1. so there he was training away, but, as he grew older, it started getting all a bit too much.

he didn't want to dedicate his entire life to basketball. after all, his hobby is water sports and his speciality is boxing; that's a lot of different things to be keeping up with, whereas the pipeline for promising athletes demands people focus solely on basketball. as a result, nash become bitter: stopped attending practice regularly, got in trouble for trash talk of increasing severity, etc.

result was he was kicked out of the program.

only when he was no longer playing basketball again, did he realise how much he missed it. and hence he got into streetball, where he was tremendously successful as someone with so much training, 'elite skills', and the overly confident attitude to boot.

then, one fateful day, he met jason and the rest is history.