#posts i wrote instead of wrapping presents

[blysse-and-blunder]

in lieu of a commonplace book: holiday edition

monday, dec 5, 2022 ~ 9pm ----> thursday, dec 22, 2022 ~ 4pm  ---->

                                      saturday, dec 24, 2022 ~ 4pm

i’ve had this one languishing in drafts for so long that it’s now a holiday ilcb! stay warm out there, get yourself something nice to drink and light a candle or two or three, i am sending you a hug and a far-too-long post.

reading brrr what did i just finish. when i first drafted this post it was wintering by katherine may. fine premise, i generally accept her point about life inevitably having periods of winter and learning from them. i like the creativity of her different chapter topics. i am tepid to cool about the mix of research and creative writing, mostly because it wasn’t as scientific as i would have liked, and the bits of memoir turned me off at first. i’ve been reading more nonfiction the last few weeks, so i’m also here to report that index, a history of by dennis duncan was quite entertaining for being a book about a piece of book apparatus, and it will probably be a source of many good party facts for the next few months. i began listening to it as an audiobook though, and i must say the melifluous narrator’s voice was a) very entertaining because he had a really hard time with the latin and b) did his best with the fact that many of the examples in a book about indexes (indices?) were just lists of things and page numbers. switching back to print was a good move, imho.

book of the month and possible new entry in my top ten of the year, though, was the goblin emperor by katherine addison, which housemate G gave me as an early christmas present and which was absolutely my shit, between the shakespearean language and the shakespearean court intrigue. the emotional weight of a character shifting from the formal ‘we’ to the informal ‘i’ midsentence! the gradual building of a totally new world and language system! all the supporting cast coming to love the main character in ways that he can’t quite believe but which are clear to the reader! it reminded me of the best bits of the hands of the emperor in that way, and it ranks alongside that one as far as being ‘books that i didn’t want to end.’ the name of the ‘untheileneise’ court is evocative of ‘unseelie’, ever so slightly, and the flavor combination of reading this while also watching the d20 show mentioned below has been delectable.

watching couple of different contenders for this topic, surprisingly, between continuing to watch bossam: steal the fate with @hematiterings​ and fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood with @hematiterings​ and @pep-squad-lizzie​, and having watched crouching tiger, hidden dragon and 20 minutes of a random episode of the white lotus on the plane, or now having been at my parents’ for a minute having started enjoying miss scarlet and the duke and three pines with them. on my own, though, it’s been dimension 20-- i bought a year’s subscription for myself as a present, and the entire visual and storytelling aesthetic of a court of fey and flowers has been hitting so right. i love aabria’s dm style, i thought this during exandria unlimited too (and i just did a cursory search of ilcb posts to make sure i haven’t said this already?? if i have please forgive me)-- there’s a richness and glitter to her narration and the details she chooses to highlight. and everyone in this group is doing such a great job, i’m in ep 2 ‘the great hart hunt’ right now and just, the different strategies each of the characters has selected to solve the puzzle, the combination of more court intrigue with humor and whatever earnest emotion peeps out sometimes, plus the slightly-different-but-equally-creative take on goblins from brennan and k.p. hobb here as opposed to the goblin emperor (they both have emotive ears!) is very good to me, personally.

listening mostly podcasts, if i’m honest. i put on an 8-hours-of-gentle-christmas-carols yule log youtube video today, but really i’ve been listening most to the WBUR podcast last seen when doing dishes or cooking or otherwise getting the streets of this city back under my feet. the episode on the jewel heist is where i started, while the one on chinese pie / pâté chinois and the franco-american/quebecois in new england gave me an emotion. this evening, though, there will be christmas music and yes that is a threat.

playing more stardew (while enjoying fey and flowers in the other window) but i’ve decided i can start a new game for a new year! while i work out how to download things from the itch.io bundle i bought literally two years ago, and scroll through the under $10 section on steam’s sale, recommendations are welcome. things i’m intrigued by: spiritfarer! a dragon age? i do not have a gaming laptop, a desktop computer, or a good gaming rig in any sense, and i will be choosing based entirely on Vibes (art / music / tone / narrative / writing etc), but input and suggestions are always welcome! also i tried to teach my dad 2048 and it went about as well as i could have hoped. also i asked for a zelda DS game for christmas like it’s 2013.

making there was a lot that could have gone into this section over the last few weeks, if i’d posted it when i initially started thinking about it-- i hung a poster! remounted a shelf! and now have dried orange slices for last-minute ornaments and made many (MANY) molasses-ginger cookies, and am in the process of mulling apple juice (california apparently not believing in proper cloudy apple cider). we’re travelling to see family the day after boxing day, so any real holiday baking will probably happen once we’re there, rather than being made now and then having to be frozen or eaten all in a rush-- so nothing to report on the bread / pie / candy front. yet. CIDER UPDATE: it tastes like hot apple juice. luckily irish coffee is also an option now.

working on but it’s christmas! i hear you cry. yes, and all free time is time you could be working on your journal piece, i reply. i’ve also been grinding through RAship hours before the end of the year, even though my contract continues until the end of april, because the more i can get done now the easier the spring will be. also i’m reading some diss chapters for a friend (self-serving also because his topic is close enough to mine that i can call this research!) and working on a letter of support for a prof who’s been good to me over the years and who is up for a teaching award. my journal piece is a cleaned-up version of a talk i gave, so really it’s a question of prettying-up the footnotes and inserting better citations, and trying to make it Good Enough while not too different / not rewriting it entirely. what does this actually look like? hell if i know, but unless someone gets back to me about image permissions it’s a moot point anyway. happy new year to me.

[portgasdwrld]

📂 Op men + them being jealous

part 1

Featuring: Monster trio (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)

Warning: fluffy fluff, ended up being the monster trio being subtly jealous lol Ik I was going to make it suggestive but I like it better that way, might change it for the others

Note : After 200 weeks, 1500 minutes and 25 years, I’m finally posting this serie after thousands of drafts 👩🏻‍💻 y’all don’t know how many times I wrote and erased stuff 😭

Luffy

The crew just landed on a new island, it was a huge forest, not a person in sight. You weren’t particularly a big fan of walking around in an unknown deserted place, especially in the New World where you never knew on what or who you could fall.

On the other side, Luffy was absolutely fearless and enjoyed the thrill of exploring the unknown and seeing unusual creatures; Sailing was all about that for him. An adventure wasn’t an adventure if he didn’t feel that rush of adrenaline faced to a strange situation. He had insisted you come with the exploring team while you pleaded to stay behind with Robin and Usopp.

But here you were walking glued to Sanji as your boyfriend lead the way somewhere in this lost territory filled with trees and the noises of wild animals. He was screaming in excitement when he came across weird insects or odd looking vegetables. You sighed heavily as the anxiety was still heavily present in your system.

The cook adjusted his pace to match yours sensing your uneasiness about the situation. He knew you only came for Luffy, so he made sure to help you feel more comfortable in his own way.

Luffy ran forward as he noticed a beautiful blue flower tinted with yellow strokes that looked like gentle waves. He took it and searched for you with his eyes.

-This would look so pretty on your hair!

He exclaimed as he walked over to you and Sanji while waving the flower in his tan hand. You smiled as you thought it was adorable, but Luffy’s eyes quickly glared at your arms wrapped around Sanjis. He didn’t say anything and simply fixed the flower behind your ear, complimenting you with loving eyes and his cute grin.

-You look perfect!

He announced as he put his arm around your neck, naturally removing you from Sanji. A giggle left your lips as you melt into his familiar warmth. His eyes looked down at you with so much love and care, he wouldn’t want nothing to happen to you. Sanji laughed as he noticed Luffy successful attempt to get you away from him.

Your boyfriend closed the distance between his face and yours. With slightly furrowed eyebrows and serious eyes, he wondered if you were fine.

-Yeah, I just feel uneasy about walking here if I’m being truly honest. I’m not a fearless warrior like you, let’s say~

You explained calmly as you stared back into his big brown eyes. His expression softened up and he moved his arm to be able to grab your hand instead.

-Alright, then stay close to me only. I’m the strongest, so I will protect you no matter what! I promise!

-You’re sweet, thank you Luffy.

He gave a squeeze to your hand as you two followed the group through the millions of trees. Luffy smiled to himself, knowing you were relying on him to protect you now~

Zoro

It was all going well, a great night where Zoro was simply enjoying his time drinking with the others. It was all going great until he noticed a man that kept staring at you. You didn’t notice as you were busy goofing around with Usopp, enjoying a fun conversation.

Zoro felt this feeling of frustration grow in him the more he glared at the person shamelessly eyeing you like he clearly couldn’t see you were taken. That’s when it snapped for him: maybe they couldn’t tell? And that angered him even more. How can this person stare at you like a candy while he was sitting just next to you.

The swordsman pulled you closer to him, making sure his arm around your waist is noticeable. He smirked relieved when he saw the man look away with an annoyed huff. He took a sip from his beer as his smile got bigger. Zoro took that opportunity to slip a quick peck on your jawline.

You stared at him weirdly, wondering what have gotten into him.

-Wassup with you?

-I cant kiss you or what?

-Yeah, but you don’t usually do that.

-You always complain

He whined as he rolled his eye, but still he was glad that no one was hungrily looking your way anymore. You were his and he would make the possible to make it known. Even if it needed him to be outside of his comfort zone, he was going to make sure you were safe from lingering unwanted eyes (maybe to also make himself feel better)

You gave him a funny look, confused about his unusual bright expression. You pecked his lips not giving too much thoughts about it, before going back to your conversation with Usopp. You leant your body on your boyfriends that surprisingly responded to it by holding your waist tighter and rubbing his thumb against your tummy.

-You’re really acting strange, but I ain’t complaining

You said under your breath so only he could hear. He chuckled as he drank some more. You looked over your shoulder with a smile.

-Great, because you’re not leaving my side tonight.

Sanji

Hand in hand, you two walked through the village in the middle of all the varieties of shops surrounding y’all. You wanted to buy a necklace so you were hopeful to find something of your taste and Sanji was more than willing to help you.

He had already made his grocery shopping with you yesterday and organized everything late in the evening, so it was his rest day. He wanted to enjoy the sunny weather with his awesome lover on this pretty day.

It all started when the seller was proposing you multiple options at the table and he invited you to come in the store for something more refined for a beautiful person like you. Sanji didn't care, because of course you are beautiful, so it was only natural that other people would notice. He nodded excited to see what other options the man had that could fit you even better.

Sanji cocked an eyebrow when the seller pushed your hair behind your shoulders and got close to your face as he commented about you smelling good. You laughed as you thanked him, mentioning how your boyfriend bought the scent for you as you pointed at the cook. He put a gorgeous silver piece around your neck and handed you a mirror.

-What do we think?

He asked with a content expression, you stared at the mirror with a floating smile as you nodded, approving the jewelry.

-It's so gorgeous! Oh! What about this one?

You asked as your eyes flew to a more elegant necklace. You walked away from Sanji quickly as you engaged in a great conversation with the seller about the jewelries and some specific information, that your lover was honestly unfamiliar with. Sanji felt like you kind of forgot about him and started to wander around the store on his own as he kept an eye on you, still.

"...should I get into jewelries.."

It was those type of thoughts that occupied his mind as he sulked in his corner. Though, Sanji is a gentleman and he loved more than anything to see you happy and passionate, so he put his jealousy aside to let you enjoy your moment. So, he put his ego aside and started to think about which one would look hotter on you-

-Chérie, have you find something you liked?

He asked you as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. You hummed as you looked at the other man and you both nodded, agreeing on something the cook had no clue about.

-I'm going to take this one, what do you think babe?

Sanji kissed your cheeks and whispered in your ears with a smirk.

-They all look beautiful to me, because you are stunning. I don't think I will be of a great help, my love.

You smiled to yourself, because Sanji likes whatever you wear or not. On his end, he just wanted to leave already and pamper you with kisses & hickeys all over your neck to celebrate your new necklace and maybe to let people know you were his..

[palajae]

nevertheless…

PAIRING... heeseung x reader | GENRE... established relationship! au, fluff, humor, romance | WC... 0.4k | "there’s no freaking way."

“seungie~” you drawl on, excitedly hopping into your boyfriend’s room. 

he hums in response, eyes still focused on the screen in front of him. you pay no heed to him, instead plopping down on his plush bed. however, in your hands lies a precious item. 

“i finally got your new album!” 

this time heeseung turns to look at you, amused at your excitement. he cocks an eyebrow, “oh really?”

you nod vigorously, hands scratching at the plastic wrap. 

“i wanted to open it with you.” 

he chuckles, “i hope you like it.” 

“of course i’m gonna like you,” you roll your eyes while taking off the cover. nothing beat the smell and feel of a fresh album—especially your boyfriend’s, at that. 

heeseung’s attention returns to his game as you flip through the photobook, occasionally letting out sounds of approval and awe. 

it’s not until you dramatically clap a hand over your mouth that heeseung finally stops his game. 

“there’s no freaking way.” 

even though your voice is muffled, heeseung can hear the evident shock. he immediately takes off his headphones, controller falling to the floor. 

“what? baby, what is it?” 

you look up—was that tears in your eyes?—before scrambling off the bed. 

his eyes narrow before they focus in on what was in your hand. 

“is that-“

“i got jungwon’s photocard!” you dance around the room, happiness clearly present on your face and by your actions. 

your boyfriend (not jungwon) is left speechless. 

it’s been five minutes and you haven’t stopped staring at the photocard.  

“i think i’m gonna put it in the back of my phone case…”

“baby?”

“or should i just leave it-“

“baby!” 

heeseung’s voice startles you. he usually never raised his voice. 

“yeah?” 

he pinches his nose bridge in disbelief before speaking up, “are you serious?”

you look at him straight in the eyes, “uh, yeah. why?” 

heeseung lets out a deep sigh like he’s been at sea for 40 years. “you’re that happy that you got a jungwon photocard?”

you look at him sheepishly, “if it makes you feel any better, i got your postcard?” 

he can only blink. and then laugh at the situation, shaking his head. whatever made you happy, he supposed. 

your boyfriend gets up to kiss your forehead. “fine. congrats on pulling jungwon, i guess. as long as he doesn’t replace me in real life.” 

you scoff, “as if. i got the real deal—the whole package! you’re way better than the blurry half-face selfies you post in bed for the fans.” 

heeseung bursts out laughing, staring at you fondly. “i’ll take that as a compliment.” 

you place a small peck on his shoulder, “good. because i lied.”

heeseung frowns, “what?” 

“i got jake’s postcard, not yours...”

“that son of a-“

a/n ▸ can you tell i wrote this ages ago for enha’s cb 💀💀 anyways, i just wanted to say thank you x928384 for 2000 followers like WHAT i am eternally in shock..!! i never thought i would have made it this far when i first joined, so im immensely grateful and ily all❤️

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @who-tf-soddhi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @asteria-wood @noajakah236482 @enhacatalog @june-pop @ohsjy @ashtxrie @isoobie

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@kflixnet

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Broken Mind | Josh Washington x Reader

......

Another day, another Until Dawn rewrite by yours truly <3

I've got Rami Malek on the brain again so I decided to revise this old 2016 fic I wrote about Josh being accompanied by Reader in the shed (after his prank reveal). Changed a few things around and added stuff from the prologue, but all in all the plot's the same (except they're together)

Anyways enjoy!

......

"Hey, [y/n]. Got a special delivery for you."

Hearing the quiet giggles of the Washington sisters, you looked up from your phone and smiled upon seeing your boyfriend being held up by the two of them.

He looked plastered as hell and half-asleep, but his eyes were slightly open. The moment they landed on you, lopsided grin spread across his lips.

"[Y/n]...baby...?"

"Yes. It's me, Josh." With a chuckle, you put down your phone and assisted the girls in helping him lay on the sofa. You decided to let him rest on top of you, seeing as he already had his arms wrapped around your torso. "Jeez, so clingy, huh? How much did you drink?"

"Mhm...I forgot.." His words were slurred.

"Of course you did." Putting your arms around him, you lightly scratched at his scalp with your fingertips, hearing his hums of content as he looked to his sisters.

While Hannah left, Beth smiled back and took a picture of him being all cuddly with you, reminding herself to send to you later. After that, she finally left you both alone.

"They take good care of you."

"Yeah..they're..the best." Josh mumbled tiredly into your chest, hugging you tighter. "But 'm glad you're here...thank you for being by my side. I love you sooooooooooo much."

"Of course, Joshie. I love you, too." You chuckled, holding him close until he dozed off again, before you ended up falling asleep yourself, enveloped by the warmth of the cabin fire and the one you loved most.

He probably won't remember much of this in the morning, but that was fine.

For once, everything felt right in the world.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"[Y/n], honey? Baby? Sweetheart?"

Blinking, you returned to the cold and cruel present, looking to the man tied to the post.

"Yes, Josh?" You sighed tiredly, wiping the blood from the corner of your lip.

"I'm pretty cold. How 'bout we loosen these restraints a little and-?"

"I'm sorry, but...I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"What? I....I can't believe it. You would let those jerks do this to me?!! Your boyfriend? After all I've done for you?!!" Angrily, Josh tugged at his restraints, gnashing his teeth at you like some animal. "I feel hurt. Who does this to someone they love?!"

"First of all, I didn't tie you up. And second...you're not the only one who's gotten hurt tonight."

"If anyone deserves to feel hurt, it should be me! After what they did to my sisters..they had it coming."

As much as you wanted to snap at him for acting this way, you knew that he wasn't well, and getting angry right back wasn't going to make anything better.

Instead, you opted to look outside the shed, observing the snowfall while trying to ignore the sounds of him whining and struggling with the ropes.

Such sights used to calm your nerves, but now...it was nothing more than a grim reminder of how long and unforgiving this night has been, and how there's still a few hours until sunlight and rescue arrived.

How did you get here?

Well, it was supposed to be a reunion between friends.

You and Josh were still together after the horrible tragedy that befell his sisters exactly one year prior, and you were with him through the long days he spent trying to isolate himself, and the difficult nights he spent wishing he didn't wake up at all.

You stayed with him no matter what.

No matter how many times he tried pushing you away...you always stayed. And while he didn't express it as much as he wanted to, he appreciated it.

That's the only reason why he didn't subject you to the "prank" he had laid out for the rest of the group.

You knew his passion for film projects, having helped him with some small YouTube ones yourself. You knew that this year, he wanted to do something to "really bring the gang back together", and you let him be when he insisted on working alone.

God, why didn't you press him on what exactly this prank entailed?

Why didn't you pick up the signs that he was off his meds?

What he enacted was horrific beyond measure--a prank that you didn't even think he was capable of carrying out.

One that seemed so real that you were almost convinced that you lost him to a murderer.

When Chris came to you sobbing in remorse over how the "Psycho" tricked him into killing your boyfriend, you didn't know what to feel. You wanted to see the body to confirm it, but given his and Ashley's reactions..it wasn't worth scarring your eyes or mind over.

It left you unbelievably sad and numb, although you were left confused when through his blubbering, he admitted that the saw blade was rigged to kill Josh despite choosing to save him.

That was the first sign that you knew something was off.

You didn't know anybody that held a massive grudge against him to the point of rigging a trap to murder him only.

But only after Josh revealed everything to Chris, Ashley, Sam, Mike, and you....that's when it all made sense.

And you felt betrayed.

You couldn't believe he'd orchestrate this whole scheme behind your back.

How could you have been so naive and trusting?

You felt like you should have known what he was up to. The others gave you suspicious looks and even Mike wondered for a moment if you were an accomplice...but you weren't.

That was the truth.

You had no idea.

Now all you felt was lingering guilt and festering anger that this was Josh's twisted idea of "revenge" against the people who didn't even kill his sisters. Against people like Chris who didn't even know what happened until he woke up.

And in a way, you felt like it was against you for not waking him up in time to stop the prank that led to Hannah and Beth running out of the cabin.

No matter how many times he claimed you had nothing to do with it, you felt like he was punishing you, too.

So now, you, Chris, and Mike have taken him away from the others, to a shed where he couldn't hurt anybody. Apparently Jess was dead, and despite his insistence that he didn't kill her....Mike didn't believe a word he said, having seen her body firsthand in some mining elevator.

Then when he started making lewd comments about Chris and Ashley, both of the men were growing agitated, debating on whether to make him shut up by force or not.

Finally, you intervened before they could decide, offering to watch over him until sunrise. You're the only one who had a small chance to talk some sense into him and make him realize his mistakes.

Mike was reluctant to leave you alone with him, thinking he'll guilt trip you into letting him go, but you convinced him and Chris you'll be fine.

There were some...scary things you've seen out in the woods earlier, and the last thing you wanna do is leave Josh alone with them nearby.

Even after all the shitty things he did, even after faking his own death...you still loved him.

You didn't believe he murdered Jess.

That's not what Josh would do.

"Your sisters wouldn't have wanted this." You quietly said, looking back at the wide-eyed man. "I wish things were different that night. I wish they didn't get humiliated. God, I wish Hannah had talked to me instead. But this...all of this was wrong, Josh. What happened doesn't justify-"

"But it worked, didn't it? Listen, I...I-I didn't want anyone dead." He stammered. "I just wanted to see that same terror on their faces. And I got them good! I got you all!!"

"...did you have to give Ash a black eye, though?"

"Look, she stabbed me with scissors! And it still hurts like a motherfucker."

You just gave him an expression that read "well I would have too if a killer was chasing me", and he seemed to understand...given how his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"Baby, 'm sorry..this...was not how our night's supposed to go. But you know what? I'm glad I was the only one laughing! Because NOW THEY KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ON THE OTHER SIDE!!" Tears of anger pricked his eyes as his voice unexpectedly rose.

You whole body tensed, but you stayed calm, knowing he's only lashing out. "Josh, I know they hurt you. And hurting them back might feel good..but you hurt me too by faking your own death and not telling me how far you intended to take this prank."

"..you would've stopped me if I told you." He mumbled.

"Well maybe I should've been more persistent." You huffed. "If I was, we wouldn't be here. We wouldn't have to talk about why Jess died and why you seem to be the prime suspect-"

"I swear to god, it wasn't me! I don't even know where she is!" Josh snapped, before he curled up, like a child in timeout. "Mike..he wouldn't explain the wheres and whens. He just kept hitting me, pushing me..telling me to shut up...but I didn't do it...I swear. Please, please believe me, [y/n]. I'm sorry that you got roped into this. I-It's..the..the last thing I wanted.." His voice softened. "I'm sorry I've been bad..."

Slowly, you could see bits and pieces of the Josh you once knew coming back. His mind wasn't all there, of course, but you've known him forever.

You should be thinking with your brain and not your heart.

But....

You still love him, and believe in second chances.

"Joshua."

He perked up, anticipating the worst as you pulled up a chair to sit in front of him. For you to say his name like that couldn't have been good.

Maybe you were gonna side with all the rest of them and spit on him.

Maybe you were gonna say that you're leaving him alone here, as Dr. Hill had warned would happen.

Maybe you were finally going to tell him what an unforgivable monster he wa-

"I believe you're innocent. You're not one to take a life. No matter what they say." You suddenly spoke, putting a hand to his soot-coated cheek

Almost immediately, his twitching stopped, and he stared straight at you.

It's like you put him in a trance.

"I'm not gonna leave you."

"..e-even though I've been..all messed up?" He asked cautiously. "I-I mean..I haven't been a good boyfriend lately..."

"That hasn't stopped me from being there for you before." You chuckled. "We're gonna work through this. Even if it's just you and I."

"............"

"I believe you when you say you didn't kill her. Do you believe me?"

It took him a few moments to study your expression, seeing the genuine care and warmth in your eyes. Despite all the horrors you've seen tonight, there was still a spark of hope in them.

That was the light he needed.

"...I-I do..I really do." He sniffled, resting his head on your shoulder, grateful that you didn't push him away despite being covered in dirt and fake blood. "'m sorry...I-I don't deserve you."

"Oh, honey..." You put your arms around him, sighing softly as you felt him tremble against you, tears slowly dampening your jacket. At this point, you knew you got him back, and you were so relieved. "We'll figure something out. Just stay with me."

"You don't think I'm a monster..?" He asked through his sobs. "I mean, everyone treated me like one...you've seen them.."

"....I know. Neither of us can change how they feel. But listen, the only monster here is-"

All of the sudden, a shrill inhumane screech echoed from somewhere outside, deep in the woods, interrupting the tender moment between you two.

Josh sat up with a start, his tearful eyes wide and terrified as he looked to you. "Wh-What was that?"

"That's the real monster I was gonna mention. They call it the Wendigo. Hang on." Crouching down, you managed to find a small pocketknife on his toolbelt, using it to cut the ropes binding him. "It's fast. But it's blind as fuck. We need to get out of here."

Nodding, he got up as quickly as he could, having no time to rub his aching wrists as you grabbed his hand.

The shrieks became louder, forcing you two to hide further inside the shed, sticking close to the back wall where the shadows were darkest. "Shit. Don't move a muscle, okay?"

His breath hitched as the wendigo dropped down in front of the entrance, creeping inside the small building to look for prey. But he took your advice and tried staying still.

You could practically hear you own heartbeat as you held your breath, thumping louder and louder as the creature wandered around. Josh watched it scrape its claws along the wall, creating a sound most unpleasant in an attempt to make him flinch.

It then made direct eye contact with you both.

While you managed to keep perfectly still, you could hear Josh's quiet whimpers, indicating he had a much harder time considering how jittery he was earlier.

All you could do was hope and pray it would leave.

Otherwise...both of you were dead.

Just when you thought your boyfriend was going to lose it completely, the distant snapping of a branch caused the wendigo to turn at blinding speed and sprint out of the shed, returning to the surrounding woods.

"Okay...thank christ.." Letting his hand go, you took a breather, only to see that he was still standing rigid. His eyes showed nothing but pure terror, as he began mumbling something like "was it real" under his breath.

"Josh? Baby?" You shook his shoulders a bit, and he blinked several times, coming back to reality. Relief immediately crossed his face as he realized you were still here. "It's okay. It's gone."

"Tha....That thing w-was real?"

"Yes. I know how to outsmart it. But we can't stay here. We'll be safer at the lodge with the others. We just gotta keep our heads down until then."

"But..what about the-?"

"Don't worry about them. Let's worry about getting out of here, alright?"

Wordlessly, Josh nodded, practically clinging to your arm as you both headed outside and down the snowy trail. He kept mumbling incoherent things, reassuring himself that he was safe with you.

Obviously, he seemed pretty shellshocked, considering the monster he just encountered was real and not a product of his imagination.

He didn't know whether that was better or worse.

Either way, you allowed him to hold onto you, knowing he needed someone--anyone--to lean on right now. And fortunately you were exactly the person he needed.

The only one who could help him come back to his senses.

You swore to never abandon him, and you intend to keep that promise even after all that happened tonight.

You still loved him, and he loved you.

That hasn't changed.

[elllisaaa]

hi eli!! hope you’re well 💖💖 was hoping you could write husband headcannon for dino? including nsfw hc? 🫣 i know you wrote bf hc dino but i feel like husband hc would hit differently ykno lol tysm!! 💖💖

HUSBAND!CHAN hits different, that's true, because if as your boyfriend he was whipped, now he's a simp and he isn't ashamed of it.

he's so proud that you're his wife that he doesn't even call you by your name anymore, always saying my wife this, my wife that, because he cannot get enough of saying it, knowing that you're his forever brings a smile to his face and a warm feeling in his chest everytime. chan is also a sucker for the way you present him as your husband, and it's like he's never gonna get used to it. even if now that you're married he should trust you even more and feel less possessive because he knows you're his through and through, it gets worse. everytime you're out together, he needs to have his arm wrapped around your waist or your shoulders, showing off to everyone that you're taken, showing off his ring to anyone. even in private, chan is a lot more clingy and touchy (which is surprising because he was already very clingy and touchy before) but now it is necessary for him to be with you all the time, he never lets you go. and now that you're his wife, he can easily take you with him during tours and any event. it allows you to travel too, seeing so many cities and countries you didn't think you would ever visit.

"we're going to berlin next week honey, i'm taking you with me."

chan still feels shy sometimes when you compliment him, but now, he has found some ways to make you blush too. now, he's the one to fluster you most of the time instead. he's the type to retweet the posts saying "goodnight to my wife, fuck everyone else" without feeling any guilt because it's true. he takes the opportunity that he's your husband now to take care of you and spoil you even more. the way he sees it is that he has to be even more worthy of you and not make you regret marrying him. he buys you jewelry, clothes, books, flowers, everything that you want and need, and even what you didn't even asked for, he's always one step ahead of you to make you smile. you would've thought that after so many times, you would've been used to his affection and his tendency to spoil you, but you weren't, and chan loves how you react just like the first day when he gives you something new.

"this necklace is so pretty on you " - "but channie, it was so expensive…" - "don't worry about it my love, i just love to make my gorgeous wife happy."

HUSBAND!CHAN whose sex drive is even higher now that you're fully his, now that you live together.

chan cannot take his hands off you anymore. the day of your wedding was the happiest day of his life, yes, without any doubt. but as the night came to an end paired with the many drinks he had, by the time everyone left, he could hardly holdback from fucking you right there. chan definitely fucked you while you were still wearing your wedding dress and he was still wearing his suit. and then he spoiled you all night, only really falling asleep as the sun rose up through the window. also, during your honeymoon, chan had the same energy going on. he spent so much time in between your thighs because he couldn't get enough of your taste and the way you were his wife now.

"come on honey, please just let me give you one more. you can do that for me right ? my gorgeous wife…"

at first, he was scared that a routine would settle in your intimate times just as it did with your everyday life. and he didn't want things to get boring, so i think chan would probably want to try a lot of new things with you. he asks you to make a list of all the things you wanna try out, and he also makes a list. whenever the two of you have the time and the energy for it, you pick something from your lists to spice things up. you love that chan tries to keep things interesting, but you also do things to surprise him too and he melts down from the inside everytime. a lot of people told him that once you're married, nothing's refreshing anymore, but chan always brags about the fact that he never once got bored with you. there's also a lot of public sex with him once he's your husband, because as i've stated before, he cannot take his hands off you. be that at the fancy restaurant he took you out to, at a birthday party of one of your friends, in the middle of the park you planned your picnic date to. every occasion is worth pushing his dick inside of you.

"fuck, yes, bend over just like that for me. gonna make you scream my name for everyone to hear."

[leighsartworks216]

Lap Dog

Sylus x gn!Reader

I wrote this at like 2 am. Can I not keep getting the best inspiration/motivation at the absolute worst hours??

Inspired by my own post

Warnings: violence, guns, threats, kissing, biting, hair-pulling, cuddling, literal sleeping together, no smut, fluffy ending

Word Count: 1,600 (oooh nice)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (Updated)

Two knocks sound on the door, but there is no pause before it opens. All conversation dies. The black market Protocore dealer and his two lackeys are silent as they watch you enter.

Your attire is casual, if not a bit tantalizing. One of Sylus’s shirts hangs loosely on your frame, partially unbuttoned. Shorts hidden beneath give the impression of nudity. And to top it all off, a gun is very visibly strapped to your thigh.

They all stare, baffled at the entrance of Sylus’s infamous bodyguard. The discrepancy of the horror stories detailing your ruthlessness and capabilities and the soft, lazy way you pad across the floor to settle directly into Sylus’s lap. It’s harder to take you seriously, if anything.

Sylus smirks, naturally, always accepting any affection you feel he’s worthy of. His hand slips under the loose edge of the shirt to hold your waist, his touch warm and protective. You wrap an arm around his neck, the other resting its hand on his chest. Your head leans on his shoulder, eyes closed. You don’t seem to give a damn about the state of affairs you’ve just barged in on. The client can’t say anything about it, though; this is the Onychinus leader’s home, he can’t disrespect that.

Sylus tilts his head nonchalantly, like nothing ever happened, like the only thing interrupting the meeting was the client’s own self-imposed silence. “You were saying…?”

The dealer balks for a moment. He looks between you and the man he came to do business with. After a beat of silence, where he struggled to grasp onto the threads of the conversation, you open your eyes to glare at him, not even bothering to turn your head. It’s sharp. A warning. Speak, or else.

He clears his throat. “O-Of course, sir. As I was saying, I was able to get my hands on some rare variants of pearl and violet Protocores. They’ve been examined by our lead scientists, and it seems they are highly receptive to alterations.”

“Did you bring any with you, or do I just have to truth your word?” Sylus questions.

“I brought one along,” the man quickly reassures. Your face turns to watch him as he gestures for one of the henchmen to bring forward a steel briefcase, setting it on the rich wooden desk. He clicks the latches open and lifts a tube out with both hands. Floating within the glass is a spiky violet Protocore. “This is one of the weaker ones, of course. It’s bad business to bring the best product to the first meeting.” He holds it out to Sylus with both hands. When the leader gestures for him to bring it closer, he carefully rounds the desk to present it up close.

You squint your eyes at the crystal for a moment. In one swift motion, you pull your gun from its holster and point it at the man’s face. He nearly drops the container in shock. Instead, he clutches it to his chest, staring down the barrel of the gun.

Sylus tsks. “Black market salesmen, always claiming they can scrounge up the best of the best, only to fall short.”

The lackeys reach for their guns. One draws and aims at you. The other hesitates, hand hovering over his holster. The dealer takes a step back.

“Wha- Call off your guard dog!” he pleads.

“Why should I? They’ve just sniffed out a liar. I’m inclined to reward them with a little treat,” he muses. “Feel up to hunting, sweetie?”

You don’t answer.

“No! P-please I-! These are the real deal, I swear!”

Your gun moves from his face to his henchmen. Before the armed lackey can fire, you shoot first. The bullet rips through his hand, traveling up his stiff arm and lodging itself firmly in his elbow. He screams in agony as his gun clatters to the ground, reduced to his knees beside it as he clutches his injuries to his chest. The other one lifts his hands up in surrender, not wishing to further test your ire.

“Was it all a lie, I wonder?”

The gun returns to aim directly at him. He drops the tube, glass shattering on the floor, to cover his face with both hands as though it would save him if you pulled the trigger. “Wait! Wait! I know where I can get the Protocores!”

Sylus hmphs. “Heel.”

You obey immediately, returning the gun to your holster. The dealer uncovers his eyes to watch as you lean yourself back against Sylus’s chest, face resting against his neck and eyes closed, as if you were tired of threatening him.

It doesn’t put the man at ease at all.

“Then go fetch them,” Sylus demands. “Two days. If you try to run away or return empty handed, I guarantee you a fate worse than death.”

The man gaped, slack jawed. His hands twisted his tie anxiously. “Two days?! S-Sir that’s impossible!”

“That’s none of my concern.”

In all his years of selling to big-ticket bosses, cutting corners and swindling them outta their money, never had he been so blatantly dropped at Death’s doorstep. And now here he was, unsure if he should scream or cry, or beg for a quick death from the two Grim Reapers that decided his fate.

So he was left staring at Sylus and his guard dog, hands shaking and throat choked up. It’s the second henchman who steps forward to grab his employer and associate, dragging them out of the office. They scurry down the halls, desperate to leave as soon as possible.

Sylus chuckles once they leave. You just sigh against his neck.

“They were boring.”

“Next time, I’ll let you deal with them as you please,” he promises. His voice is softer. No longer does it have the edge of intimidation and danger, the edges smoothed away with affection.

You hum, lazily accepting the offer.

Sylus’s free hand moves to your exposed thigh. He works diligently to remove the holster, undoing one strap at a time, until it slides free from your leg. Red and black tendrils carry it to the desk, resting it softly on the dark wood. He tenderly rubs at the indents in your skin from the leather, drawing a contented sigh from you.

“You should go back to bed, sweetie,” he coos. “You didn’t need to bother yourself with this.”

You shake your head languidly from side to side, nose running up his neck, his jaw, until it presses behind his ear. “It’s part of our deal. Wake me next time,” you whisper.

He closes his eyes, savoring the sound of your breaths, the hush of your voice.

When he first met you, you didn’t say a word. The auction house awed and feared you, just as they awed and feared him. Two terrible forces of nature. When he danced with you that night, you’d tapped on his shoulder to communicate - one for no, two for yes. It wasn’t until your fourth encounter, when he proposed an agreement, that he heard your voice.

“Our deal has been long since fulfilled,” he reminded you. He turned his head, nose brushing against your cheek. “Or would you like to upgrade our terms?”

You breathe long and slow against him, silent. He knows better than to accept it as an answer one way or the other, where most people would consider it an immediate dismissal.

“I want… to go back to bed.”

He chuckles, but complies with your request. He lifts you effortlessly as he stands, your faces still tucked close together as he navigates the mansion. He can just hear Luke and Kieran laughing to themselves downstairs.

He passes by your old room. It was where you stayed for the first several weeks of your employment, before you wordlessly began climbing into his bed. It was a grand compliment. You encroaching on his space like a stray cat, finally deciding he is worthy of your mere presence.

The door to his bedroom opens with his Evol. He nudges it closed when he enters. Your side of the bed is still unmade, blankets shoved down to the end. Mephisto paced playfully along his perch. No doubt that’s how you’d learned of his meeting.

He lays you down, but before he can stand back up and pull the blankets over you, your arms wrap around his neck and pull him in for an unhurried kiss. He supports himself with a hand beside your head as the other cups your cheek. It’s sweet as honey, stinging like a bee when you bite down on his lip. He groans softly, suppressed by another sweet kiss. Your nails scratch up the back of his neck. One hand tangles within the soft white locks.

And pulls.

His head follows the movement, lips forming a delighted smirk as he looks down at you through half-lidded eyes. You grin minutely as you release him. “Stay?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

Your arms fall from his shoulders as you turn onto your side, facing his half of the bed. He stands up straight and goes back to his task of drawing the blankets back up around you. Even as you lay still, seemingly already fast asleep, he knows you’re listening intently as he disappears into the closet and changes into his sleepwear. You’re still awake when he slips into bed, and as he shifts to the middle. You slot yourself easily into his arms with a pleasant sound.

He falls asleep to the gentle rise and fall of your chest, and the warmth of your hand holding onto him.

[mariacallous]

On Boxing Day pro-Palestine demonstrators met customers at the Zara sale in the Westfield shopping centre, in Stratford, east London. They were not there to wish them the compliments of the season.

‘Bombs are dropping while you’re shopping,’ they chanted, as police stood by to make sure the protests did not turn violent. ‘Zara is enabling genocide,’ their placards read.

Quite what they wanted bargain hunters to do about the Israeli forces bombing the Gaza Strip, they never said. Lobby their MPs? Politicians are on their Christmas holidays. Join the Palestinian armed struggle?  It was unclear whether the shopping centre had a Hamas recruitment office.

But on one point the demonstrators were certain: no one should be buying from Zara. Even though the fashion chain has not encouraged Israel’s war against Hamas, earned income from it, or supported Israel in any material way, it was nevertheless “exploiting a genocide and commodifying Palestine's pain for profit”.

Zara, in short, has become the object of a paranoid fantasy: a QAnon conspiracy theory for the postcolonial left.

The Zara conspiracy is an entirely modern phenomenon. It has no original author. Antisemitic Russians sat down and wrote the Protocols of the Elders of Zion in the early 20th century. There was an actual “Q” behind the QAnon conspiracy: a far-right activist who first appeared on 4chan message boards in 2017 to claim that a cabal of child abusers was conspiring against Donald Trump.

The Zara conspiracy was mass produced by social media users: an example of the madness of crowds rather than their supposed wisdom. The cause of the descent into hysteria was bizarre.

In early December Zara launched an advertising campaign featuring the model Kristen McMenamy wearing its latest collection in a sculptor’s studio. It clearly was a studio, by the way, and not a war zone in southern Israel or Gaza. McMenamy carried a mannequin wrapped in white fabric. The cry went up that the Spanish company was exploiting the suffering of Palestinians and that the mannequin was meant to represent a victim of Israeli aggression wrapped in a shroud.

The accusation was insane. No one in the photo shoot resembled a soldier or a casualty of war. Anyone who thought for 30 seconds before resorting to social media would have known that global brands plan their advertising campaigns months in advance.

Zara said the campaign presented “a series of images of unfinished sculptures in a sculptor’s studio and was created with the sole purpose of showcasing craft-made garments in an artistic context”. The idea for the studio setting was conceived in July. The photo shoot was in September, weeks before the Hamas assault on Israel on 7 October.

No one cared. Melanie Elturk, the CEO of fashion brand Haute Hijab, said of the campaign, ‘this is sick. What kind of sick, twisted, and sadistic images am I looking at?’ #BoycottZara trended on Twitter, as users said that Zara was ‘utterly shameful and disgraceful”’.

To justify their condemnations, activists developed ever-weirder theories. A piece of cardboard in the photoshoot was meant to be a map of Israel/Palestine turned upside down. Because a Zara executive had once invited an extreme right-wing Israeli politician to a meeting, the whole company was damned.

Astonishingly, or maybe not so astonishingly to anyone who follows online manias, the fake accusations worked. Zara stores in Glasgow, Toronto. Hanover, Melbourne and Amsterdam were targeted.

What on earth could Zara do? PR specialists normally say that the worst type of apology is the non-apology apology, when a public figure or institution shows no remorse, but instead says that they are sorry that people are offended. Yet Zara had not sought to trivialize or profit from the war so what else could it do but offer a non-apology apology? The company duly said it was sorry that people were upset.

“Unfortunately, some customers felt offended by these images, which have now been removed, and saw in them something far from what was intended when they were created,” it said on 13 December, and pulled the advertising campaign

That was two-weeks ago and yet still the protests in Zara stores continue. On 23 December activists targeted Zara on Oxford Street chanting , 'Zara, Zara, you can't hide, stop supporting genocide', even though Zara was not, in fact,  supporting genocide. On Boxing Day, they were at the Stratford shopping centre.

Zara has apologised for an offence it did not commit. There is no way that any serious person can believe the charges against it. And yet believe them the protestors do. Or at the very least they pretend to believe for the sake of keeping in with their allies.

Maybe nothing will come of the protests. One could have argued in 2017, after all, that QAnon was essentially simple-minded people living out their fantasies online. Certainly, every sane American knew that there was no clique of paedophiles running the Democrat party, but where was the harm in the conspiracy theory?

Then QAnon supporters stormed the US capitol in January 2021. Will the same story play out from the Gaza protests? As far as I can tell, no one on the left is challenging the paranoia. I have yet to see the fact-checkers of the BBC and Channel 4 warning about the fake news on the left with anything like the gusto with which they treat its counterparts on the right.

To be fair, the scale of disinformation around the Gaza war is off the charts, and it is impossible to chase down every lie. But when fake news goes from online fantasies to real world protests, from 4chan to the Capitol, from Twitter to the Westfield shopping centre, it’s worth taking notice.

Sensible supporters of a Palestinian state ought to be the most concerned. No one apart from fascists, Islamists and far leftists believes that Israel should not defend itself. And yet the scale of its military action in Gaza is outraging world opinion. Mainstream politicians, who might one day put pressure on Israel, remain very wary about reflecting the anger on the streets.

They look at the insane conspiracy theories on the western left and see them as no different from the insane conspiracy theories that motivate Hamas, and they back away.

The Palestinians need many things: an end to the Netanyahu government, and an end to Hamas. But they could also use allies in the West who do not discredit their cause with dark, gibbering fantasies.

[oizysian]

Don’t Fight With The Birthday Girl

Summary: It’s Lizzie’s birthday and you have a special surprise for her

Word count: 2k

AN: I wrote this a few years back for Lizzie’s birthday but never posted it here, so here it is! Happy birthday to the loml, Lizard ❤️

•

"Elizabeth, your girlfriend's here!" Ashley called out into the crowd of people.

I smirked at the birthday girl's reaction; a blush and a huff as she approached us and pushed her sister - only half jokingly.

"In case you forgot, Ash, I'm married."

Ashley turned to me and rolled her eyes before walking off, presumably to find Mary-Kate and mingle a bit. I looked at the retreating back of her older sister before returning my attention to the woman of the hour.

"You look beautiful, Lizzie." I smiled brightly, taking in her appearance.

She was wearing a black knee length dress with short sleeves, her hair was up in a cute little ponytail and she wore very minimal makeup. She looked ethereal.

"Thanks, Y/N." She smiled, her eyes shining brightly with happiness.

"Did you open your presents yet?" I asked, knowing that I did arrive a little on the late side.

She shook her head and gestured to the table along the back wall lined with gifts. My eyebrows raised in surprise, impressed by the amount of gifts she'd received.

"Wanna open mine first?"

"Should I?" She bit her lip and smiled, looking down at her hands for a second before returning her gaze to my own. "I don't wanna play favorites."

I took a step closer to her, barely brushing my lips against her ear.

"You know I'm your favorite."

I pulled away, watching as she shuddered ever so slightly at the feel of my hot breath on her. With a wink, I walked past her, intending on getting myself a drink and having a good time.

At the drinks table, I met up with the twins who animatedly told me all about their new Spring collection that was coming up. They seemed excited so I couldn't help but be excited for them too. They were both a little tipsy, and handsy - not that I minded because we were all very close. Mary-Kate gave me a nudge and gestured with her head towards someone behind me.

"Looks like someone's a little grumpy."

I looked over my shoulder, spotting the birthday girl with her husband, chatting with some people I didn't know. But Lizzie wasn't paying attention to the conversation - she was staring daggers at us.

I shrugged and returned my attention to the twins, taking a big gulp of my drink.

"I offered to give her her present early." I smirked to myself. "She didn't wanna show favoritism by opening mine and not anyone else's."

"Oh, so that's why she looks like that." Ashley laughed, giving Mary-Kate a knowing look. "She's got a lot of ... built up tension."

I snorted at her words. Elizabeth had tried being so careful to hide her affair from everyone, but the two people she could never lie to were her older sisters. They probably knew about it before she did.

"She missed her chance." I turned back towards her again and gave her a small shrug and only a slight look of pity.

She chose to parade around as the perfect wife instead of getting her gift early.

"You're with us now," Ashley said with a smirk, sliding up to my side. "She'll have to get in line."

I wrapped my arms around both of their shoulders, pulling them close.

"I've never been with twins before." I laughed, and they joined in, all of us enjoying our time together.

I would never hurt Lizzie by sleeping with her sisters. It was all just jokes and I was sure she knew that. A tap on my shoulder got my attention and I released the twins to come face to face with a very unhappy Lizzie.

"Hello there, birthday girl." I smiled at her, finishing off my drink quickly.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" She shot a glare at both her sisters before returning her attention to me again. "Alone."

I nodded at her and she grabbed me by the arm, dragging me away. I could hear the snickers from her sisters as we left and I realized they purposely got me in trouble for fun. Oh boy.

I followed behind her as she led me to an upstairs guest room. I was really in for an earful now.

"Elizabeth ..." I started, attempting to explain what she had seen.

She closed and locked the door behind us, stomping over to me angrily.

"What the hell was all that?"

"All what?"

"That!" She spat. "With my sisters!"

"We were just hanging out." I replied simply, shrugging as I sat on the bed. "Plus, you were mingling with Robbie. What did you want me to do with myself?"

"I certainly didn't want you to flirt with my sisters!"

"Elizabeth," I started softly, placing my hands on my knees and leaning towards her slightly. "I'm not fucking your sisters."

She crossed her arms over her chest and I held my hand out to her, which she chose to ignore.

"I'm fucking you."

"And is that all it is to you?"

My hand dropped at her words, confused as to where this was coming from.

"I should be asking you that."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're the married one, Elizabeth!" I shouted, standing from the bed. "I've been faithful to you this whole time! I haven't even looked at another woman."

Her eyes softened at my confession. She took a step towards me and took my hands which were clenched at my sides.

"I'm sorry," I whispered softly. "I don't want to fight with you on your birthday. I'll just go."

I pulled my hands away from her, swallowing roughly at the hurt expression on her face. Before I could make a move towards the door, she was in front of me, her hands cupping my cheeks.

"Don't." She whispered, her lips pressing against mine in a fevered kiss.

I kissed her back, knowing all this tension and frustration stemmed from the double life she chose to live. I was just as guilty as she was and respected her desire to keep me a secret, but it didn't mean I was always happy about it.

I pressed her up against the door, my hands slipping up her dress as she kissed me sloppily, hungrily, as if she had never tasted my lips before.

"Do you want your present now?" I whispered softly.

She nodded and I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties, tugging them down around her knees. My hand slipped between her parted legs, two fingers ghosting against her slit teasingly.

She wriggled the rest of the way out of her underwear, kicking them away once she got them down to her ankles so I could access her wetness without struggling.

"So, that's why you're so grumpy." I breathed against her lips, my fingers just barely caressing her clit. "You're so wet."

"I've been wet since you teased me earlier." She squirmed underneath my weight, trying to get my fingers to move. "I hate when you do that."

"That's why I do it." I dipped my fingers into her heat, gathering her wetness on my fingers before pulling away from her.

"What -" She gasped breathlessly as I used my free hand to undo my pants.

She got the hint and helped me free her birthday gift from the confines of my dress pants. My thick, purple cock sprung out at her and she gasped, running her fingers along its length.

"Is this new?"

I nodded, sticking my wet fingers in my mouth and grabbing her hand, guiding her as she stroked it carefully, as if it would break.

"Happy birthday." I removed my fingers and smiled.

"It's too big." She whispered, almost in awe at the size of it.

"You can take it." I let her guide it between her legs, rubbing the tip against her throbbing clit.

She gasped softly, her hands reaching to grab my shoulders, letting me take control of her.

"You're gonna look so pretty with me inside you."

She let out a breathy moan that I swore I could get drunk on, and I gripped at her thighs, trying to pull her up my body. She jumped and wrapped her legs around me, the cock fully pressing into her heat as I grind my hips against hers, drawing loud, needy moans out of her.

"Be quiet, sweetheart," I whispered into her ear as I adjusted the cock between her thighs. "We wouldn't want anyone to hear you."

I slipped inside her easily and she threw her head back against the door, crying out at the intrusion. Realizing she was a little too vocal, she took a fistful of my shirt into her mouth, biting down as I slowly inched the rest of the cock into her.

"That's right, baby," I cooed, my hips jerking slightly with the urge to just fuck her like an animal. "Take all of my cock. You're such a good girl."

I heard her let out a pathetic whimper as I began to thrust up into her, the sound of our bodies crashing together deliciously loud in the quiet room.

"H-harder, Y/N." She whined, her teeth still buried in my shirt. For once, I was thankful that she wasn't biting me.

I knew that if I slammed her up against the door someone would hear, so I turned us around and clumsily walked us over to the bed, dropping us down as gently as I possibly could.

She released my shirt and took my hand, placing it over her mouth so I could silence her as I fucked her into oblivion. I pressed her down into the bed and slammed my hips into hers, the sounds of her moans driving me absolutely mad.

"You like when I fuck you like this?" I bent down and whispered in her ear, the disgusting sounds of passion and desire she was making fueling my inner fire.

She squeezed her eyes tight and came, her pathetic, needy moans stifled by my hand as her body tightened and jerked beneath me. I waited until she quieted down to release her, her mouth agape, panting heavily as she tried to catch her breath.

"My beautiful girl." I whispered softly, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "You look so pretty when you cum hard for me."

"Please," she whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut at my gentle touch. "More."

"More?" I questioned, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Can you handle more?"

"Mmm, yes." She smiled up at me, rolling her hips into my own.

She bit down on her lip, keeping up the rhythm and I decided it was time for her to take control.

I flipped us over, her small squeal of surprise drawing a small chuckle out of me. She got comfortable on top of me, pressing her hands onto my breasts and lifting her hips to slam down into mine. I groaned at the power behind her thrust, grabbing onto her hips as she fucked herself on me.

"Oh, oh fuck." She moaned, her brow furrowing as her second orgasm built up inside her.

She threw her head back, a silent scream slipping past her lips as she came again, her wetness soaking me and the bed. Oh fuck.

As she came down from her high, she sighed contently, sliding herself off the cock she feared she would be unable to take. Boy, was she wrong. She laid down next to me, her legs dangling off the bed, and I got up, getting down on the ground in front of her and tugging her towards the edge of the bed. I wasn't done with her yet.

"Y/N, I don't know if I can ..."

"Shh," I hushed her softly, my tongue darting out to clean the cum off of her inner thighs. "I need to clean you up."

I heard her slap her hands against her mouth once again as my tongue swirled along her clit, dipping between her folds teasingly as her hips thrust up into my face. I gripped her thighs tightly as I explored her delicious wetness, her legs twitching around my head. I made sure to absolutely devour every inch of her, feasting on her as if she was my last meal, as if I'd never have this chance again.

I heard her squeal from above me and I knew she was close. I slowly inserted two fingers into her, her pussy tightening around me as I fucked her until her body gave in, sending her into her third climax of the night.

As her slick gushed out of her, I eagerly licked it up, doing as I promised and cleaning her up. She writhed on the bed and I placed a kiss on her mound before rising back up and kissing her fully on the lips. She was dazed, her eyes heavy as I let her taste herself on my tongue.

"Happy birthday, my love."

[obeymematches]

hey i saw your hc requests were open,is it okay if i ask for the love languages of the brothers?it could also be the the way they show their love if you dont like the first one lol.love your stuff🦓

hiii whatsup it's been a while!

tumblr changed so much since the last time i wrote HCs it is making me upset as I'm trying to edit this post pls bare with it

How can you be sure they love you?

Lucifer:

● He is the most straightforward with his words when it comes to expressing his feelings for you. There are no ambigous expressions, no metaphors, no nothing, just simple "I love you"s, which he isn't afraid to tell you every morning and every night from now on.

● You also receive gifts sent / given by him, though he isn't so good at thinking of new ones so it's usually a boquet of roses, fancy chocolate or some kind of jewellery.

● He hardly ever lets you go anywhere alone from now on! Someone has to be with you at all times. No arguing about it!

● Please don't expect lots of quality time together. Even if your presence is the only peace he gets throughout his entire day. He spends as much time as he can with you but it is out of his control. Sometimes you do get a couple of hours with him, sometimes it's 20 minutes a day. Don't take it personally, of course you are on his mind every day, of course he would spend more time with you if he could. (He's not going to like it if you tell him "if he wanted to, he would")

● Please touch him, he is starving for intimacy. Just make sure you keep it lowkey in front of his brothers & Diavolo. Everyone else is okay to see PDA.

●Appreciates your acts of service and he generously rewards you for it but don't expect him to do the same for you, unless you really struggle with a task.

Mammon:

● You're not going to get no privacy from him. Top #clingiest demon in the world.

● He is very unaware of this, but he keeps touching you, sometimes subtly sometimes not so subtly. (He sits so close to you that your shoulders and legs touch, wraps his arm around your waist whenever he gets the chance, etc.)

● He also gets you rather expensive presents from time to time, where he gets the money for it is a mystery though. (He been working a lot to treat you right okay!!)

● However, he sucks at expressing his feelings with words. 0/10 do not recommend. Good luck and don't give up, evetually he might tell you he is most ardently in love with you.

●Doesn't really do acts if service either. Maybe sometimes.

Leviathan:

● All of a sudden he is much less talkative around you. First you think he just doesn't like you for some reason. You thought it was going fine but... well.

● The situation escalates when he writes you a love letter, telling you everything you wanted/needed to hear. With spoken words he is not so good, fumbles a lot, forgets where he was at, but his letter is on point.

●The best way he lets you know about his feelings is through quality time. He makes sure the emphasis is on quality and not quantity! He can become really funny when he tries to!

● Acts of service happens in game mostly.

Satan:

●Very much into quality time with you! Indoors or outdoors doesn't matter as long as you spend time together.

● Gets nervous from PDA, don't do it often... when no one else sees you he is absolutely mesmerized by your touch though.

● He is one of the best with words; expect poems, books dedicated to you! Also tell him how good if a man he is, loves to hear it!

● Not very much into acts of service, very independent kind of guy and expects the same from his other half.

● He is also not much into gifts. Doesn't believe in money doing the loving instead of the person.

Asmodeus:

● The king of touch and reassuring words! Down for this two anytime and anywhere!

● He appreciates anything you do for/with him but expect PDA and sweet nothings the most.

● Of course if neither of the 2 works for you he can do anything to make sure you feel loved.

● The only one who can make you feel loved to the bone no matter what your love languages are. He doesn't have a weakness regarding these kind of things.

Beelzebub:

● I think he is an acts of service kind of guy. Does the dishes for you, gets you dinner, stuff like this.

● Also likes to be touched but strictly in private! Gets so nervous if anyone sees.

● He tells you he loves you often and isn't afraid to tell you why! Though "I love you" as a full on sentence is a bit rare from him... he puts more effort into it... like "You are the kindest person I know and I love you so much for it."

● He also gets to spend lots of QT with you. Watching a movie, going for a run, he is down for whatever.

● Not much of a gifter himself but truly appreciates if you give him gifts. Might cry a little.

Belphegor:

● You get to spend QT with him most of the time. Also becomes very possesive of you so you get little to no privacy at all.

● He tells you he loves you often but sometimes it sounds a bit.. off? Like he doesn't really mean it?

● Not much of a gifter either... rarely when he knows you'd like something specific he'd get it for you but as I said it's rare of him to do so.

● Big on touching you, however. Like Mammon, he'd be very close to you the entire day. If you move away he is moving with you.

● He barely does acts of service eventhough he lowkey expects you to do some for him.

[dhampling]

Your fics/headcanons give me the feeling of eating freshly baked cookies with warm milk while wrapped in a blanket fresh from the dryer. Just so sweet and comforting. Your post the other day about the number of kiddos he'd want got me wondering: how would astarion handle his partner being in labor? I feel like he would be freaking out so badly internally but trying so hard to keep it together for them. Does it get easier with each baby? Does he cry each time? Also, I had this image in my mind of him introducing the older girls to their new baby sister each time and just being sweet and cute with his growing family and I'm dyinngggg. Thank you again so much for all the wonderful fics sorry this message was kinda all over the place I LOVE YOU. ❤️

hello my sweet angel!!! firstly - you inspired me. I'm inspired. i wrote something based on the introducing the siblings idea. see below!

He’s not sure he’ll ever tire of it.

Feign exasperation, absolutely. Roll his eyes in jest, move things along with the smallest ‘away, away’ of his free hand at the faces pressed against the inside of the kitchen window as you both approach the house in a beleaguered stumble - snout noses and wide grins, breath fogging the glass trying to gain a glimpse. Incredulously sigh at the fact that it’s just a baby.

It looks like a baby. Sounds like a baby. Smells like a baby. The house tends to have at least one kicking about at any given time, gods; there’s absolutely nothing unfamiliar nor noteworthy about a baby dhampir in Baldur’s Gate at this point. If anything, he’d be surprised if the townsfolk weren’t banging down his door come morning with a council-endorsed petition to encourage him to stop breeding the little shits.

Frenetic. He’s still practically vibrating with adrenaline from the birth still. Shaky hands stilled under the weight of the baby basket. Legs flying.

Another girl, obviously. Another ‘A’ name conjured from the recesses of his ancient wisdom. Some variation of a label he saw in an apothecary a week ago - you’re past the point of putting too much thought into their names, a fact that becomes obvious to anyone who lends it too much of a thought.

Apothecary. He ponders the viability of that one. Apothecaria? Apothe. Antiseptic. Asbestos. Arugula.

Fuzzy as the door swings open into the night and the stew-warmth of the kitchen bleeds outside. He holds the door, the carrier containing the baby; hospital bags strapped to his back, the weight of another little thing on his conscience. A pack mule. He pulls a face.

The eldest steps from the sitting room through the parted gaggle of waiting Ancuníns and takes a look at the new addition.

A brief moment passes.

Then she smiles as anticipated, nodding her approval - a time-honoured tradition in your household ever since the second was unleashed unto her sister - before falling to the back of the crowd, pulling out a chair for an exhausted you; and resigning from her primary carer duties for the evening.

It’s bittersweet. At this point, Astarion can never be sure if this time, the whole bustling through the doorway in the middle of the night with a newborn thing; will be the last.

But as each previous youngling steps in line to greet the newest addition to their chaotic sisterhood, he finds himself looking over to you fondly. The way your hand still rests atop the round of your belly, the other supporting your head as your elbow rests firm on the table. Cheeks aflush, lids drooping closed with each breath; and yet you sit there instead of retiring straight to bed to watch them.

Their eager faces, hushed whispers; fingers poking and prodding the small exhausted thing presented to them once more. Rolling her name around their mouths to get used to the sound. You watch each movement with a warm heart and dopey grin.

Obviously you want this again. He wants this again. This moment of soft whispers and unfettered love amongst siblings.

No, he resolves;-

this won’t be the end.

-

i LOVED THAT SO MUCH. THANK YOU.

with regard to the labour:

astarion cries with the first two babies.

after that, he realises it's probably more important to be supportive to his partner at this moment in time.

he can compartmentalise any emotions he's having with the logic that they can wait, honestly.

none of his worst fears are going to materialise, he knows this now. he's done it before.

with the later babies he's a pro.

he even has the nerve to sit there and exclaim at points that he's bored, and that you need to hurry home as he has a client coming to the shop later.

despite both knowing it's a jest, this always earns him a pillow to the face.

THANK YOU NONNIE!!! I LOVE YOU!

[leosxrealm]

ᴋ.

pairings: your driver of choice x gn! reader

warning(s): fwb to lover, a lil angsty, suggestive! but no actual smut, happy ending (all characters are 18+)

a/n: inspired by the song k by cigarettes after sex. i originally wrote this with lando in mind but it can be read for any driver!!

!not proofread!

I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back We were sitting down in a restaurant waiting for the check We had made love earlier that day with no strings attached But I could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then

he remembers it was the day after he had gotten his first win. things had gotten a bit out of hand at the after-party the previous night.

he remembers waking up next to you. it wasn't the first time something like that had happened, neither was it the last.

he knew that sleeping with his friend would bring nothing good to either of you. but he didn't care, not when the sex was this good, and you two were still friends later. he didn't care about the future when you made his present feel like heaven.

he would promise you, every single time, that there would be no strings attached. a lie, every single time. but he didn't know it yet, that what he felt for you, was way greater than lust.

he, however, did notice the love that you started harboring for him. it was the morning after, and you two had decided to get breakfast together. after all, getting breakfast with your best friend was normal right?

he had never seen you look at someone the way you were looking at him. it made him feel good, almost proud, that the look was for him. only him.

but, a small part of him wonders, it can't be good for your friendship, right? he should stop. he should stop this friends-with-benefits relationship before it's too late. but he can't.

---

Kristen, come right back I've been waiting for you To slip back in bed When you light the candle

it's late; there's a knock on his door. he opens it to find you standing there. you look stressed as if something's bothering you, he notes.

you say nothing, as you push him against the door before sealing his lips with yours.

it's too hot for him. his knees feel weak. his world starts spinning.

you've got him wrapped around your fingers. he's addicted, to the taste of you, to your body and how perfectly it fits with his.

almost like you were made for him, the same way he was for you.

---

And on the Lower East Side, you're dancing with me now And I'm taking pictures of you with flowers on the wall Think I like you best when you're dressed in black from head to toe Think I like you best when you're just with me And no one else

it's race week, and you're there with him. he's free from all his media duties for the day. you take this as a chance to drag him to explore the city with you.

you're looking at the unfamiliar city, taking in the scene in front of you. and he's looking at you. how could he look somewhere else when your smile alone was outshining the beauty of the city?

you asked him to take a picture in front of a wall covered in mural art. to post it on your socials, you had said, handing him your phone. but he insists on taking it with his instead.

you don't question it, and he's glad. how could he have told you that he just wanted to add more pictures to the collection he already has of you. some taken in secret, some not. you don't know about this. he doesn't plan on telling you.

it's late, you both should be asleep, but you're not. instead, walking around the neighborhood. couldn't sleep, you had said, when you had knocked on his door earlier.

he doesn't complain when you tug at his hand, dragging him to the middle of the park.

it's quiet. it seems the whole world is asleep. except you and him.

you guide his hands to your waist, before putting yours around him. he gets the memo, swaying you both.

he can't explain, if anyone were to ask, but he likes it when it's just you and him, lost in a world of your own.

you look up at him, showing your biggest smile. it makes him wanna kiss you. right then and there. claim you as his. one and for all.

but he doesn't.

---

Kristen, come right back I've been waiting for you To slip back in bed When you light the candle

he's alone in his room, staring up at the ceiling. mind clouded with the thoughts of you.

you're not there, yet, all he could think about was you. he saw you a few hours ago, yet, he still misses you.

he hopes you will knock at his door, like you've done countless times before.

he hopes you'll slip back into his bed, and light up his world with your smile, like you've done countless times before.

but you don't.

---

And I'm kissing you lying in my room Holding you until you fall asleep And it's just as good as I knew it would be Stay with me, I don't want you to leave

he once again finds himself in bed with you. you're asleep. sleeping soundly with your head on his chest.

he wonders if you ever dream of him like he does of you. countless nights that he had spent thinking of you. both asleep and awake.

he knows what he's feeling. he has never felt so about anyone else. and it makes him scared. scared of what will happen if he ever opens his heart to you.

his heart's fragile. and already at your mercy. and he doesn't even know that yet. it would be so easy for you to break it, break him. it scares him. even though he knows you wouldn't do anything of such sort.

he holds you closer, his grip tightening around you, not enough to hurt you. how could he ever knowingly hurt you? he looks at you all lovingly.

and if you were awake right now, you'd tease him, that he was in love with you. and he'd probably laugh it off, teasing you back, that you are the one in love with him.

two idiots. in love. both scared to tell the other how they feel.

---

Kristen, come right back I've been waiting for you To slip back in bed When you light the candle

next time you see him, he finally has the courage to tell you. he's rambling, expressing his love for you.

you shut him up with a kiss, calling him an idiot with a playful smile. he smiles back. because he knows you two are going to be fine.

the next morning, you don't leave his room, instead, you stay there lying there with him. basking in his warmth.

he wakes up a few minutes after you, greeted by your face on the pillow opposite of his, looking at him. a lazy smile adorning your face.

and, he thinks he could get used to this.

[sanjismywhore]

Comfort

Carlos Oliveira x Reader

Warnings: Suggestive, fluff, comfort

This is just something short and sweet. At the time I wrote this, i was going through some shit and needed to indulge a bit… so now I’m posting it!

————————————————————————



Your body sank into the soft mattress as Carlos laid onto you. His lips left a mark on your skin, leaving small trails of bite marks from his kisses. The soft grunts he made while doing so were music to your ears. It made you snake your arms around his back, pulling him into you as he continued to lay kisses all over you.

A soft moan left your mouth like a sweet tune. You gasped at the feeling of his teeth scraping against your collarbone. He traveled lower, licking and sucking on your chest.

His warm touch sent shivers down your spine, sending goosebumps up your arms. Carlos' hands found their way to your hips, holding you tightly in place so that he can continue to kiss his way across your body with passion.

Your thighs wrapped around Carlos' waist, pulling him closer as you ground on him. He moaned again, this time louder than before, and pulled away just long enough to remove his shirt before returning his attention to where it began.

You gasped, arching your back when he kissed your abdomen towards the junction between your legs. You bit the inside of your cheek as you felt his tongue glide over your thighs.

You couldn't stop your mind from racing, struggling to focus on his palpable touch. Your chest tightened. Heat rose through your body, filling you with a tingling sensation. Your breathing quickened to a concerning degree, making your heart race. You didn’t know why, but you felt like you were dying in that moment.

You had never experienced such strong emotions before. You just wanted it to go away… but you couldn’t move yourself. Your muscles seemed frozen. You were completely helpless against these feelings.

Overwhelmed, you squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to block the lurking feeling out. The sound of your shaky, hitched breathing alarmed Carlos to stop and observe your state.

As he looked up at you, your tears broke his heart. You cried with such fear that his breath caught in his throat. He sat up quickly, gently wiping your tears with his thumb. “Hey… What is it, baby?” His concern was evident in his tone, “Please don’t cry.”

When did you start crying? You hadn’t even noticed until now. You didn’t know what came over you or why you couldn’t stop crying. But it hurt too much to do anything else. And when you tried to speak through your trembling, thick lips, you could hardly get any sounds out.

“I’m sorry.” you managed to squeak. Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed by your reaction.

You felt Carlos take hold of one hand and gently pry it off your face. “Baby, you got nothing to be sorry for. Tell me what’s wrong.” He coaxed softly.

As more hot tears streamed down your cheeks, you were unable to respond at that moment. You could only whimper and bite your lip in an attempt to cease the trembling.

He leaned forward close to your face, cupping your cheeks gently with his calloused hands. He pressed his lips to your temple, then each cheek, under your eye, and finally the tip of your nose; soothing you with kisses.

“Please don’t cry…” He whispered, wiping more of your tears away.

Between hiccups, you confessed that something had been eating away at you for a long time. Whatever had troubled you in the past continued to haunt you in the present. Whether it was because of fear, failure, or guilt, it lingered behind every single thought.

Carlos listened to your ramblings intently, nodding and stroking your arm comfortingly. He kissed your knuckles before pulling you into a welcoming embrace. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, letting you hear how sorry he was for whatever it was that weighed you so heavily.

One last time, he kissed your lips deeply. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. Instead, he took your face between his palms and pressed his forehead firmly against yours. It was soft and more intimate than anything prior.

With your face cradled in his hands, he spoke, “I’ll always be here for you. I love you more than anything.” His voice was quiet, yet clear and honest.

At the sight of your smile, he peppered more kisses all over your face until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You broke into a fit of giggles. Carlos continued his barrage, aiming for your jawline, neck, and collarbone. You felt lighter as if you were floating the more he went on, melting into him like putty.

“That’s my girl.” He chuckled against your skin, sending vibrations all over.

A soft moan slipped past your lips when you felt his teeth along your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed, relaxing into the warmth of Carlos’ touch. His hands settled on your curves, cuddling you gently.

They remained there until you told him otherwise. He wasn’t going to go any further than this, not unless you said so.

“I love you so much.” He muttered into your neck, pressing soft kisses there. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Just Add Alcohol...you know, the Antiseptic Kind

Pairing: Jeno x reader Description: After getting into another fist fight, best friend!Jeno ends up back at your place for help, but you’re about at your limit of how much you can stand to see him like this before saying something about it. The only problem is, you still haven’t found a way to address it without bringing up your feelings.  Word count: 1,508 A/n: first fic :') wrote this sometime last year and I think it's the best out of my completed one shots, so now I'm sharing it with the world (that's you). shout out to @fullsunstrawberry for convincing me I wouldn’t die if I actually posted my writing <3333 please enjoy, or don’t…I can’t tell you what to do, but feedback would be GREATLY appreciated :) 

You squeeze the excess water out of the rag before stomping back over to where Jeno laid on the couch. Your heavy, rhythmic breath is the only sound to fill the tense silence between the two of you as you press the towel up towards his eyebrow, covering a freshly split-open patch of skin. The action provokes the usual wince in pain from Jeno, but you don’t say ‘sorry’ this time, instead just clenching your jaw.

It was routine at this point. Jeno would knock on your door barely able to hold himself up, you would help him to the couch, or on days where he was particularly bloody, you’d have him sit on your bathroom counter and just pray he even had the strength to make it all the way there. Then, you’d get to work on cleaning him up, because you always clean him up, from his fights on the playground in primary school to now, when some kind of fate lets the two of you reconnect after you moved away before high school only to end up at the same college. It was two years ago when you immediately recognized the crescent-eyed smile of the boy sitting at a table you passed on your walk to class. You froze in the middle of the science building, sure you were crazy, but it only took a second before he came up and grabbed your wrist to spin you around. “I knew that was you.” He stated in relief as he pulled you into a hug that you fell right into, just as you always had. Your best friend status seemed to stick through all those years apart, as had his fighting tendencies. Though now, instead of pressing band-aids over boo-boos, you were disinfecting deep, bloody cuts, and wrapping gauze around his rough hands, misshapen by the amount of fingers he had broken that he never gave time to properly heal. 

You never reprimanded him. You didn’t need to. He knew that seeing him in this state was hurting you. Though you never said so, it was always evident by the look on your face that you couldn’t be bothered to cover up. What he didn’t know was that you were only on the med-school track because, since kindergarten, you had wanted to be a doctor so you knew how to take better care of him when he got himself injured. 

“You’re mad at me.” His gentle voice, the one he spoke with only when he was talking to you, cuts through the silence and brings you back to the present. You take a second to think about how to respond as you move onto his next wound.

“Why do you get into fights?” You ask, no real emotion behind your words outside of genuine curiosity. Jeno shakes his head, wincing as he quickly realizes that the motion was too rough for him right now.

“No reason.” He replies calmly, and you look up to meet his eyes as you press your towel against the cut by his lips.

“No reason? You do all this for no reason?” You spit back, unable to keep your even tone anymore. Jeno rolls his head to the side, dodging eye contact with you as he replies.

“I knew you were mad.” He says, almost absentmindedly.

You take a sharp inhale of breath, annoyed beyond measure, finally breaking.

“Of course I’m mad! I can’t leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself!” This time, when Jeno winces, it’s not because of the antiseptic or pressure, it’s your tone, one he was so unfamiliar with when it came to you. All he thinks to do is roll his eyes in response.

“I mean, I always end up fine so it’s okay-”

“No!” You yell, cutting him off as you throw the cloth haphazardly at his figure, getting him to move his gaze back over to you in confusion as he picks up the towel and presses it against his wounds in your place. You just look at him, eyes scanning his entire bloodied up figure on the couch, tears threatening to spill for the first time ever in front of him. “No, it’s not okay. Not when I go crazy with worry wondering when the next time will be that you end up on this couch for me to fix. Do you get it? Do you get how scary it is for me to see my best friend beat up like this?!”

“I mean, the other guy always looks worse…” He states, the tiniest laugh accompanying his words, enraging you even more.

“You’re unbelievable!”

He furrows his eyebrows as much as he can before it strains against his cuts. “Me? You’re the one all worried for no reason-”

“I love you! Is that reason enough?!” You yell, standing up and walking towards the kitchen in your best attempt to get away from him. 

“Oh, God.” He says softly from the couch, and that’s all it takes for tears to start their race down your cheeks.

“‘Oh, God.’” You mock, shaking your head in defeat. “Great. Great. You can keep that towel, but please get off my couch and go somewhere else. Preferably, to a doctor. The rib that I keep telling you I’m worried about every time I see you, it feels broken now.” 

There’s a beat of suffocating silence before he speaks up again. “Y/n…” He says, just as gently as before, though you take none of it.

“Just go!” You shout across to the living room. You hear him let out a heavy exhale before responding.

“First, it’s hard to move because I apparently broke a rib, so if you want me to go, you’re going to have to help me up and out of the door. Second, the reason I got into the first fight on the playground in kindergarten was because that kid, Seongho, made fun of your hair bow.” You render still, staring down at your hands splayed out on the kitchen counter. You don’t know if you can form any response, you’re hardly sure if you’re breathing. Thankfully, Jeno fills the silence himself. “I said ‘oh, God’ because I realized I should’ve just told you that when you first asked. That I get into fights because some part of me has always needed to protect you. That the fights I seek out are against people who eye you like creeps. Yeah, I get into other stupid fights because people wanna punch me so goddamn bad for some reason and I don’t know how to back down, but the ones I start are just so I can keep you safe and gentle in this stupid, hurtful world.” 

Time seemed to stand still. You couldn’t wrap your head around his words. They seemed too unreal coming out of his mouth, but he spoke so surely. In the consequential stark silence, you hear him groan in pain, finally getting you to move as you rush over to him on the couch, extremely scared he was actually trying to get up and leave now, which he really was in no position to do by himself. However, when you get over to him, he hasn’t moved an inch. Instead, a soft smile covers his face as confusion crosses yours.

“I just did that to get you to come over to where I can see you again.” He admits, and you deadpan before you can finally find humor, shaking your head with a small laugh as tears continue to run down your face. Then, he finally does move, reaching a hand up to caress your cheek as his other still holds the damp cloth to his cuts. “I love you, y/n.” He says gently, making sure you were holding eye contact with him as he did so. You use a hand to wipe the remaining tears off your face before leaning in to kiss him softly. 

When you pull away, Jeno moves his head up to chase your lips as much as he can without hurting himself, pouting when you take a step back and shake your head. “You can kiss me all you want later. I have to get you to an actual doctor before your fractured rib punctures your lung and you die.” You state plainly, reaching an arm under him to help him off the couch as the two of you hobble towards the door. 

“I got so lucky…you’re incredibly romantic.” He replies sarcastically, and you just turn your head to look up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know why you’re teasing me. I don’t want you to die. That’s very romantic.” You respond with a smile, opening your door to get out into the dorm hallway. Jeno smiles lightly, kissing the top of your head as the two of you wait on an elevator. Then, all you can do is hold his hand as the doctor calls Jeno stupid for getting into fights (you slipped him a $5 for that one). 

[may-jailers-version]

The untold tale - a Lara Croft fanfic

So this is supposed to evolve into a Lara Croft x (fem) reader thing but I pumped this sort of intro (in the middle of the night instead of sleeping lol) and I want to see if ppl are actually interested in knowing more about this fanfic idea I’ve been having for months. As you’ll understand it’s also a lot about Lara’s mother (bc let’s be honest this woman is so fine and deserves some fine ass story of her own) and it is set shortly after the shadow events, so don’t expect lots of adventure at least in the beginning of the story. Pardon me if there is some inaccuracies regarding the video game I watched the play through a lil while ago (yes “watched”, I don’t have the money to play the games, sorry, I’m a poor student leave me alone 😭).

Even though the following text isn’t really “mature” rated, if I continue the story there will be prob adult themes so I’ll kindly ask minors not to interact with this post :)

Enjoy now I guess, and please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language (+ I wrote this sleep deprived) ; if you notice any spelling or grammar mistake, you’re welcome to let me know in an indulgent way in the comments. Any other kind of criticism, as long as worded kindly, is also very much welcomed!

TW : mention of death and loosing a relative

Lara Croft finds out about the passionate but gut wrenching love story her mother had with another woman in her youth : in her quest for informations, she confronts herself to what remains of this love story, and what could ensue of it. 

Or

What happens when the girl who wants to know more meets the girl who wants to forget ? 

Lara pushed the wooden panel still decorated by her own mother’s hand. The intricate scrolls of vegetation were faded in some places, the colours used had lost a bit of their brightness, but the spirit of Amelia Croft’s creativity and skills was still present. In fact, the whole room Lara was about to enter was still and always impregnated with the aura of the mourned and regretted mother and artist. That is probably why it was one of the first rooms the archaeologist was inclined to check after her return to the Croft Manor. 

3 weeks ago, she was done helping the people of Paititi in the Peruvian jungle rebuild and comfort their community. After days upon days  of giving more than a hand to the Mayan inhabitants, making amend, no, begging for salvation after all the wrongs she had caused, the call to home had finally hailed her. She had found her peace, somehow, seeing as the people of Paititi weren’t as resorting towards her as she was towards her own self. It had always been a wonder, how the people around her were not absolutely despising her after all the bad omens that had followed after her person. 

How could Jonah still be an infallible friend and partner after everything he has had to face because of her ? How could Joslin still speak to her after her daughter’s dad had been killed trying to protect her ? How had Sofia not shot an arrow between her eyes after witnessing her father die and the blood of so many of her people being spilled ? How could Unuratu’s people be so subservient towards her after what she had done ? 

The only time when shit seemed to have come back at her was when she had at last been forbidden from seeing Sam. There was not a week during which she didn’t think about her, about the brightness she brought to any room she entered, about the glow that used to dance in her eyes, about the softness that would envelop her skin, about the feeling of her arms wrapped around Lara’s waist. The vivid memories of times spent with what had probably been her first love, was probably the punition Lara was seeking every moment of her cursed life. The sinfulness of her existence could be purified by the aching provoked by her lover’s souvenir, and the feeling she had lost forever a part of herself. 

But today, Lara had decided to torture herself with the souvenir of another person. As she took some steps into the sunlit room, the wood under her life long partner rider boots cracked, and the floating dust twirled around her figure. Nothing had moved since the last time she had come here. This part of the house, much like the rest in fact, had been stilled, frozen into time, not as if its objects and furniture were waiting for their users to return, much like if the whole setting constituted some sort of mausoleum to the deceased that were once owners of this place. 

In this mausoleum of the matriarch, Lara was ready to bend and bow at the relics, reminders of the past, beholders of present nostalgia. So she stepped further, and let her eyes glide over the surface of the walls, of the tables, over the dryness of the paint buckets, the stillness of the brushes neatly stacked in clear goblets, or negligently sprawled on the floor. Her heart squeezed tightly when her gaze fell onto the unfinished canvas throning on its easel. A scenery, a lavender field in the french Provence, in the middle of which the faint silhouette of a woman holding down her hat could be deciphered, had been left incomplete by Amelia. 

Lara remembered what had pushed her mother to depict this specific landscape. It was some days after her mom and dad’s dispute, to which, unbeknownst to them, she had assisted, hiding behind the door of the office. Her mother needed to decompress, and found herself in her shed to practice her art in its most meditating form. But here she had been struggling to find inspiration, the conflict with her husband clouding her mind. That is when Lara had mentioned missing the sights of the southeastern french region of Provence, to which she wished to return soon. 

After her mother’s death, Lara never returned to Provence. She never got to see once again the azur blue sky, feel the wind as it brushes under a woman’s hat, smell the lavender fields her mom had been trying to captivate in her last moments. 

After some time freezing on the spot at the sight of the canvas, Lara decided to redirect her attention towards something else. The wardrobe. The same pastel green patterns of the room’s door were adorning the wooden structure of the piece of furniture. Lara pushed the clappers open, her eyes roaming its interior ; various objects were sitting on the different shelves, mainly paint brushes in other glass goblets, boxes full of paint tubes, argile statues deprived of any polychromy, some créations little Lara had made on her own. Her eyes settled for a wooden box littered with childlike drawings made of striking colours and her hand reached for the top shelf on which it had been sitting for years. 

After sitting legs crossed on the floor in front of the wardrobe, she opened the box delicately and instantly started smiling. In there were preciously conserved sketches, simple drawings that yet held bits of the Croft family’s intimacy. Pencil drawings of a chubby baby Lara smiling ear to ear, Richard reading a book to his daughter sitting on his knees, Amelia teaching her little girl how to paint… A time in which comfort seemed granted. A time in which emptiness and longing were unknown feelings to Lara. 

As her mind and heart yet again mingled with sorrow, her ruffling stopped at the drawing of a singular person. Her hand held onto the paper displaying the traits of a woman in her early 20s, a beautiful woman at that, but that she failed to recall. She must have missed the drawing during her precedent scorching, because such beauty in a woman’s face would have easily been remembered by the archaeologist. After some more contemplating, she flipped through the rest of the drawings, stumbling in the same time upon some of her own attempts of creation that her mother had kept as treasures. She finally put everything back in the box before closing it and getting up to stack it back right where she had lifted it. 

But when trying to push it in the back of the shelf in order to ensure its safety, she felt the box bumping against something hard. Intrigued, she tried to check what was constituting the obstacle, but found herself not tall enough to get a good view. Placing the drawing box upon a nearby table, she took a chair and climbed on it. Now she could see that there was nothing else than an other box sitting in the back, one she had never seen before. 

Gliding the box over to herself, she then picked it up to get a better look at it. Upon sitting it on the table, she noticed there was a lock to it, but unfortunately, no key in sight. She quickly looked around, scanning the room for any object that would be of help in her situation. She finally settled for some sculpting tool, a steel linear object with a pointing end that could easily be inserted in the little hole. After some seconds of struggle, Lara could hear the clicking sound of the interior mechanism giving up, granting her access to the content of this mysterious box. 

The felted inside revealed itself to be full of letters, written in a style that she didn’t recognise as her mother’s or father’s handwriting. She picked up the first paper, and unfolding it, started reading. 

“My dear Amelia, 

I saw you at the bar the other night. I saw you sitting right in the middle, legs crossed, chest proud, eyes piercing but oh so charming. There was only you for me, in this room, and I like to believe there was only me, too, in your own irises. My voice that evening, I hope, carried itself to your ear in order to let it hear the whisper of affection and longing. My melody, I wish, wrapped your heart in the most tender embrace. My words, I pray, have led your soul into a waltz into which each step is the remembrance of a dead poet. 

After the show, that night, your face has filled my dreams the same way my voice had filled the room. But I did not remember the clapping, the applauding, the whistling. All I could recall was how your eyes held onto my lips like the roses hold onto that morning mist. And what a rose you are to the world, what a bloom you are to me. 

Your last letter has lingered on me like a winter fur. Warm and reassuring, it’s all that keeps me from deflating by your absence on my side. Because you are like the sun to my harsh winter, only your rays can melt away the frost that the world impend on me every day. I get weary of anything foreigner to your sensuality. 

You can join me in my dorm by 9pm this Friday, where my eyes will survey the movement of the  clock sting, waiting for time to bring your physical envelope to my arms, as you know how your heart already and forever lies in mine. 

With deep and devouring love, Gabrielle.” 

Lara stayed still, frozen for the third time in a single hour. Her brain was processing what she had just read, her psyche fighting to accept the words that had been put under her eyes. Gabrielle… who was this Gabrielle ? When had she written and sent that ? Why was there so much passion in the way she spoke to her mother ? Clearly if the letter had been kept so meticulously in such a box, it must have meant a lot for the latter. 

Lara’s heart race fastened at those thoughts, her mind racing, questions fusing. Frantically she grabbed handfuls of letters and sprawled them onto the table surface, her eyes feverishly jumping from one piece of paper to the other, not knowing which one to pick next. There must have been at least 3 dozens of letters in this box, but upon emptying it, Lara’s eyes stopped on pictures stacked at the bottom. 

The first few ones were of a woman singing in a café displaying a 1920s look, a “année folle” aesthetic. Despite the picture’s quality not being the best, Lara could clearly spot a striking resemblance with the woman in the sketching. She flipped through the other pictures, where she could observe the woman’s trait more clearly, the latter being shot in different settings, at different moments, in different lights and angles. All of those pictures were showing a beautiful woman in her 20s, a captivating look in her eyes, and an almost bewitching smile adorning her face from time to time. 

And then, a vision that made Lara’s heart skip a beat. A picture of the same woman laying on her mother’s thighs in a minimalistic bedroom, the first looking up to the other looking down at her, both holding hands, both adorning a tender full and fiery expression for the other.  

Lara spent minutes observing the picture, her brows lightly furrowed, her stomach in knots, a strange sensation in her chest. She took the chair, put it back before the table and sat on it. She rested her back onto it, flipped the glossy paper to read at its back “I wish this moment had last forever, just you and me in this room, without the struggles of the outside” which was, this time, of her mother’s writing. Lara straightened her back and starting flipping the other pictures to spot any other indications and left messages. Behind one of the pictures of the woman singing in the bar, there was written “her voice like silk, her movement like water, her body like a dancing flame. She’s my angel.” 

A tear rolled down Lara’s cheek. What was all this about ? Why hasn’t she never heard of this ? How come her mother had experienced the same thing Lara had felt so shameful of in all her teenage years ? Had her father known about this ? And who was this woman her mother had loved so fiercely ? 

The curious spirit of Lara and her palpable need to know more about her lost mother drove her to spend the rest of the day into reading more of the letters, decipher all the pictures and try to find hints of this past love story in her mother’s art laying around the shed, attempting to reconstitute a puzzle to which half of the pieces were missing��� 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I need to find my ao3 password and stuff back so I can publish it on there. In the meantime, here some kind reminders :

🍉Keep getting informed on the situation in Gaza (Palestinian genocide) and share the story of unfortunate endangered families. 

🇨🇩If you can, donate to charities for Congo so that shelters can be built for families and especially women and children fleeing exploitation, mass murder, and SA.

🕊️Keep your eyes on countries which are currently suffering from imperialism such as Ukraine, Georgia, Armenia, Kanaky (New-Caledonia).

💙Boycott fast fashion brands like Shein (just one example) to protest against the exploitation of endangered ethnic groups in China. 🌧️Last but not least, stay HYDRATED, the world needs healthy activists ! ♥️

Happy pride to all also :)

[lotus-n-l0ve]

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

— 𝑃𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

➷ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : In the middle of a rainy night, Your boyfriend, Peter needs you and you are more than happy to comply.

➷ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : Little to no dialogue, smut, cursing, oral (female reciving), reader sleeps naked, pet names (sweetheart, baby, darling), 18+, Minors Don't Interact, 1.3k words.

➷ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴏᴛᴜꜱ : Hello loves. I'm so sorry for not posting any Peter Parker fic for almost two months. I was originally planning to post another Peter Parker fic but I can't fucking seem to finish that one. So I wrote this one instead. I'll post that one later some day. This is my first time writing smut so don't expect too much. If you like the fic then please leave a like, comment and reblong. Follow me for more like this. Enjoy ♡

𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Fingers glided down your naked spine, pulling you out of your slumber yet you don't open your eyes. The hand halted at the bottom of your spine before making it's way to you front. The heavy hand lay on your waist. Next a warm pair of lips made it's way to the nape of your neck before buring the head in your disheveled hair.

The sound of rain drops hitting almost drowned his voice. The room was chilling. If not for the warm fuzzy douvet and the warmth of you lover, you would have frozen to death. Specially since you like to sleep naked.

"I know that you are awake, baby. Stop acting now." Your lover whispered.

To this you blinked your eyes open. You could see the thin layer of water running down on the glass window. You turn your body to face, still wrapped in his arm. Your head lay on his arm. You pull your legs over his waist.

"Can't sleep?" You whisper, matching his own tone as you palm his jaw in one hand. You run your thumb on his jaw back and forth in a repetitive manner.

Peter shook head before pulling you closer to his body. Your breath mingling with eachother's. His brown eyes stared down at you with clear adoration in them, amost making you want to shy away. You were great full for the darkness present in the room. Otherwise he would have seen blood crawling up your neck and cheeks.

But unknown to you Peter could see your cheeks becoming red in blush, which made him laugh quietly. Before you ask the reason of his laugh, Peter leaned down capturing you lips in his own. Your back hit the bed as Peter hovered over you.

You lips danced with his. The kiss was soft yet passionate. You two have kissed many times before so you would think that you are used to them. But each time Peter kisses you feel just like the first kiss you two shred. Heartbeat kept getting faster, butterfly flattered in your stomach. You felt euphoric.

Your one hand rested on his shoulder as the other one creeped in his brown locks. Peter then started trailing kisses down your throat, stopping at your collarbones as he dropped open mouth kisses one after another. Sucking and licking one your weak spot. You could not help as moans kept erupting from you.

You throw you head giving him more space to mark as you spouted his name like a spell. Peter left feather kisses down your chest to the valley between your boobs. The buds already hard and aching because of the cold weather.

Peter grabbed one breast in his hand, massaging it now and then and took the other one in his mouth. His tongue rolled around the aching bud, playing with it. His one hand squeezing and tuging your other nipple.

When he had given enough attention to both boobs Peter sat up, kneeling between your legs. His chest heaving up and down with huffs along with your. Peter brought his hand to your wet pussy. His thumb parting your pussy and smethering the slickness all over.

You hips jerked up to feel his fingers in your clit but Peter palmed your stomach and pushed you back down. You stared at him, pleading with your eyes to just put his cock in you but Peter had other plans.

Peter kissed both your knees before trailing hickeys down your thighs. Peter kept kissing and sucking your inner thigh. His face was dangerously close to your cunt, his warm exhale teasing it. You writh and moan under him. Pushing his head in your soaking pussy, trying to get any kind of fraction to help your aching.

"Pe-Peter please." You stuttered out between breathy moans, "I ca-can't take this anymore. I need you."

Peter locked his eyes with you from between you spreaded legs. The view was so erotic that you couldn't help but moan. His lips curled up to smirk, "Where do you need me sweetheart?"

"Here?" He kissed your inner thigh, "Or here?" He whispered while biting on your other thigh, "Or here?" He softly bit your clit. The caress of his cold teeth sending a shiver down your spine.

You back arched at the sensation, "My-My pussy, Pete."

"As you wish Darling." Peter muttered before giving your pussy long lick.

You almost sigh at the sensation. His tongue doing magic. His tongue playing and nibbing on your clit. Peter entered two of his finger in you. Your walls clenching around the digits for relief. He pulled his digits out all the way back before shoving them in you again.

His pace was slow and steady. You back arched and you threw your head back. Your thighs squeezing around head. Peter kept licking, nibbing and sucking your heat. Soon you could feel the familiar knot in your stomach.

You were close. Your heels dug on his bare back as you grabbed his hair and shoved his face deeper in your pussy. Peter snorted at your acts.

"Pe-Peter I'm cu-cuming." You whined.

"I know baby. Cum for me, won't you?" Peter mumbled.

And with his words you came undone with wail. You chest kept falling and raising as you huffed. Peter lapped on your leaking cum like a sterved beast. Gulping every last drop, not letting any of it get waist. With a last stroke of his tongue pater raised his head from your pussy.

White and sticky cum glistening on his lips and jaw. Peter swiftly got rid of the only boxer he was wearing and took out a condom from the nightstand. Peter rolled up the condom on his cock and positioned himself on your entrance with your legs thrown over his shoulders.

Without any wait Peter entered in you with so much force that you almost hit your head on the headboard, if not for his hands which were gripping your waist. You and Peter sigh goarn sync. Peter could not wait anymore.

With one hand on the back of your thing and the other one around your neck, Peter pounced on you. His hips going back and forth. Peter kept thrusting in you with all his force. He loved the view before him.

You laying helpless under him. Hands clutching the bedsheet. Boobs bouncing with each of his thrust. You walls hugging his cock like the the cocksleeve it was. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the room as his hips slammed your inner thighs repeatedly. His head leaned back as the the feeling build up in his stomach. He was close as were you.

"Come'on princess. Cum for me. Cum for me princess." Peter kept blabbering nonchalant words.

With no time you both were cumming undone with moans and groans. With a last thrust he pulled out of you. You whimper at the lack of feeling. You walls clenching around nothing and pussy throbbing.

Peter took of the condom and threw it in the dustbin before his heavy fell over you but made sure to not put too much of his weight over. His head resting on your chest. For the next few moments the moment filled up with the sound of your heavy breathing.

There was no sound of storm of rain. The rain had probably stopped while you two were busy with each other.

"You want to take a shower?" Peter muttered, his head still resting on your now calm chest.

"Bath." You answer in one word.

"Okay. Let's go." Peter placed a quick kiss on you nipples before picking you up in bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom, closing the door by a foot behind him.

Please don not copy, reupload or plagiaris my work. All the rights and credits of Marvel characters, gifs, songs and pictures used belongs to their rightful owners.

➷ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴏᴛᴜꜱ : If you want be added on any my taglist then you can do that here. The ask box is open so if want me to write something then you can request there.

[mm-lurking]

Happy Birthday Al-Haitham~

Inspired by @dragolypso (Adrawnymous on Instagram)'s Al-Haitham's birthday post. You can check it out here. Just a quick drabble I wrote while being out of my mind. It's written in second person btw. Warnings: fem! reader and slightly suggestive at the end, that's all Word count: 449 - It’s his birthday. Does he care? Not really. He has never been one for loud and wild celebrations yet he didn’t completely decline birthday wishes and get-togethers either. The soft rays of morning sunlight illuminate through his stained glass windows as he sighs and turns his head away from the light. His wife on the other hand, is fully awake smiling at his sleeping form as she turns to her side and admires him.

“Happy birthday sleepy head.”

She leans towards him and softly taps his cheeks.

“Mmm.”

Eventhough his eyes are closed, she can tell he’s awake by how he turns his face towards her and yawns. She smiles wider and places her hands on his bare chest, tracing circles on it trying to wake him up.

He slowly pries his eyes open and blinks, stretching like a cat before staring at her. She has propped herself onto his chest, looking into his emerald eyes with a big smile on her face. Her hair falls on his skin tickling him as she breathes slowly.

“It’s your birthday Haitham. Happy birthday my love.”

He wraps his arms around her and smiles, thanking her before pulling her closer. To his surprise, she resists and shakes her head. Right before he’s about to say something she presses a finger to his lips and giggles as she pushes herself away from him and gets up from the bed. He frowns at the loss of warmth from her body but watches her closely as she goes to her cabinet and pulls out a neatly wrapped present. The box looks simple yet elegant with the geometric design and a bright red ribbon on top. Her giggle fills the room again as she approaches their shared bed and shyly pushes the box towards him.

“Oh?”

There is a smirk on his face as he looks back and forth between the box and her. 

“Open it.”

She asks of him but he stares at her instead before beckoning her to come closer. Just as she sits on the bed, he pulls her into his arms causing her to yelp as she finds herself against his sculpted stone chest.

“Haitham?!?”

There is a firm grip on her waist again preventing her from moving eventhough she wasn’t trying to escape. A gasp slips from her mouth as she feels his fingers under the hem of her shirt.

“That’s not quite the present I expected to unwrap,” he says as he gestures to the gift box on the bed. She would give him a reply if it weren’t for the way his fingers were climbing up her spine causing her to shudder.

“Why don’t I unwrap you instead?” ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.