#so I’m at peak adulthood right now

[angesaurus]

Dropped off $84 worth of Amazon returns and then spent $80 in target so target was free AM I RIGHT.

[allandoflimbo]

I  C  E    P R I N C E S S  11

Pairings: Popular Girl!Reader x Outkast!Bucky

Explicit Content - Smut - NO MINORS

Summary:

Bucky Barnes is the quiet boy who gets picked on.

The Reader and her friends run with the popular crowd at Stark High.

As the Winter Ball approaches, she is partnered with Bucky Barnes for a class project. They grow close in an inadvertently secret friendship, which later turns into love.

Only catch is…she’s Steve Roger’s ex girlfriend, and before she was partnered up with Bucky, her friends had planned to use and turn Bucky into Stark High’s new it boy to try and get back at Steve; a disgusting bet.

Another catch: She’s a figure skater at the town’s arena every Tuesday and Thursday nights. Bucky works part time at the rink resurfacing the ice. The other doesn’t know.

Modern AU High School fic - later goes into adulthood.

M A S T E R P A G E - FULL SERIES

Warnings: This story will have a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lot of cursing, and a lot of sex. Oral, praise kink, body worship, overstimulation, etc. you know me. There will also be loss of virginity in this.

Please support your content creators and writers and leave a review.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

A/n: The chapter you've been waiting for. Smut ahead. Reminder that everyone is 18 or older and consenting adults. :)

The Cabin

The day had started a little awkwardly. Everyone had to find their rooms and unpack. Sam and Bucky were rooming together, Matt and Steve, you and Sharon, and Carol was with Monica. There was a spare room for if your friend Nat decided to arrive tomorrow.

You had spoken to Bucky only briefly, he'd been acting awkward since Steve showed up. He was always so chatty but now with everyone around, it was like he reverted to not speaking as much.

But you don't miss his eyes the way they stay with yours.

Now the popcorn was popped, and the pizza was baked. Closing in a eight pm, the lights were off and the fire in the fire place was blazing. Your eyes would meet across the circle as everyone talked to each other.

At one point, you decided to go into the kitchen for a can of soda when you heard footsteps behind you.

You turned around and the blue-green eyed boy smiled at you.

"Hey." He says.

"Hey, Steve."

You feel a bit awkward as you move through the kitchen and closer to him.

"How are you doing?" He asks softly.

"I'm alright," you answer, you push a strand of hair behind your ear and cross one of your arms over your chest, "takes time, ya know?" You add a chuckle in for the sake of you me sanity. He knows you're talking about multiple things. Your break up, his cheating, your accident, your recovery. He knows you've changed in the last six months and he's admired the girl you've become. He would always respect you.

"How's skating going? I missed your last one. I'm sorry."

You swallow hard.

He sees a far away sadness in your eyes before you respond.

"It's okay." You whisper. You look away from him and to the ground, "I miss him, Stevie."

Steve reaches forward and cups the back of your neck with his right hand.

You blink away tears as his thumb runs over the scar there.

"Oh, Y/N." He says.

"I never thanked you properly for being there for me."

He smiles at you.

"I'll always be there for you."

It's then that you both hear someone walk into the kitchen. You look over to see Bucky standing in the entrance mid step.

You don't know why you overthink the situation. Maybe it's the way he eyes Steve's hand on your neck.

Bucky feels like he's suddenly intruded on something he didn't want to see, even though he had no right to not like it.

"Sorry, I didn't mean—" Bucky mumbles, about to turn back around.

"No, it's okay." Steve says, dropping his hand away from your neck, "Bucky, right?"

Bucky nods.

"I was just telling Steve about my brother," Steve is momentarily shocked, not expecting you'd be so transparent with Bucky, but he doesn't mind. If anything. It just peaks his interest. He doesn't miss the way your eyes soften and the way your voice has taken on a new tone. Bucky clears his throat, "he was there for me through it all when it happened so he knows everything."

It's meant to console Bucky. You don't know why you feel the need to justify this position and make Bucky reassured it's nothing happening. But the words do the opposite of console Bucky.

"I understand." Bucky says. He forces a smile and your eyes meet once more. You're the one that swallows hard this time, "but really it's fine. Just wanted to let you guys know they're about to start a game. I think telestrations or something."

You and Steve both nod and Bucky leaves.

Steve clears his throat and turns to you with a knowing smirk.

You frown at him.

"What?" You ask.

"He likes you."

You blush as you look away from him. You let out a small chuckle.

"No, I don't think so." You say quietly.

Bucky didn't like you. Did he?

"Please. The way he was looking at you?"

You shake your head to yourself remembering all the things Bucky said to you at the restaurant.

"He'd never like someone like me. He's said so himself."

"A sweet girl like you?" You don't say anything as you stare back at the entryway Bucky just walked out of, "and something tells me you like him, too." Your eyes flicker to his at those words.

—-

"That's not fair! You cheated!" Sam yells.

"How the hell did I cheat?" Steve exclaims with laughter.

"You and your damn drawing skills, that's how."

"This game doesn't  even keep score." Carol says, "get over it." She rolls her eyes.

Sam glares at her as he reaches for the Grey Goose bottle, downing the rest of it in one go.

You raise a brow at him.

"Sore loser alert." You mumble.

Everyone laughs.

"You know what, y/l/n?" Sam says once he puts the bottle down.

"What?" You ask playfully and smirking.

He squints at you and a smile fills his face.

"You're lucky you're cool or I swear." He says.

"Alright, enough of this shit." Matt says, reaching over for the telestrations box and packing up everyone's little notebooks.

"Hey!" Sharon protests, "we weren't done."

"I don't care Sharon, let's play a real game. Anyone up for truth or dare?" Matt says with a smirk, "an X rated version?"

You're biting at your bottom lip as your eyes migrate towards Bucky on the couch next to Sam. You pull out your phone.

Let's ditch everyone. Want to see something cool?

You send him the text. You watch as he frowns when he feels the vibration in his pocket and pulls out his phone. He reads your text and smiles.

| Sure. Go ahead I'll be right behind you.

You smile as you read his response. You clear your throat as you stand up.

"I'll be right back, guys." You announce, pulling your black hoodie down.

Sharon looks up at you with furrowed brows.

"Where are you going?" She asks.

"Just outside for a bit. I'll be back." You say.

Bucky feels the butterflies in his tummy as he watches you walk out the cabin and into the night air.

He takes a sip from his Coca Cola can and then places it on the table next to him, next to a stack of Uno cards.

"Alright, who's going to start?" Matt asks, obnoxiously excited. His eyes dart over to Bucky knowingly, but Bucky's patience is wearing thin:

"I have to excuse myself, guys." Bucky says, throwing everyone except Matt a smile.

The girls all smile back at him and Sam and Steve give each other a knowing look with a small smile.

"Okie dokie." Sam shouts, "be safe out there."

Matt's face is in a hard glare as his nose flares, eyes not darting away from Bucky.

He can't help the scorn as Bucky follows behind you out the door.

"I'm tired. I think I'm gonna head to bed." Carol says, yawning.

"Me too." Steve says.

"Same." Sharon.

"You're a bunch of old people." Matt mumbles, marching away.

—-

"Where the hell are we going?" Bucky asks you, following across the large open field and into the woods.

You smile faintly.

"You'll see," you look over at him and smile. His eyes meet yours in an intense stare, and his gaze follows the bridge of your nose, "you trust me?" You ask so quietly he almost doesn't hear you.

"Yeah." He doesn't even hesitate to respond.

"Come on." You say.

You two walk for about three more minutes. Through heavy trees and over a small river that has a log connecting one side to the other as a bridge.

He halts when you stop in front of him. His eyes follow your gaze to the white building standing in the middle of an open field.

It's a white church with black shudders, completely abandoned and half falling apart.

"This is creepy." He says.

You giggle.

"You're safe, don't worry," you grab his hand and you lead  him into the church. The moldy wooden floorboards creek beneath your feet as you step inside, letting the heavy black door close behind you.

You look up at Bucky. His jaw is sharp, handsomely perfect, and his eyes take in the terrifying dark space. Half the ceiling is caved in, exposing the night black sky.

"Stay here." You tell him.

"What?" There's a certain fear in his voice that you find adorable, "where are you going?" He asks as he watches you walk into the abyss of darkness.

You don't respond and Bucky shifts his weight from leg to leg anxiously. He says your name once more and nothing. He licks his lips and is about to decide to disobey your order when he hears a loud bang and a humming sound. Then he sees you perfectly clear as you walk back to him.

He can see you because there's a large chandelier hanging from the partial ceiling that he hadn't seen before and it's hundreds of bulbs glow a bright orange above you. He's speechless as his heart beats like crazy inside of his chest.

You're giving him the brightest smile he's ever seen in his life and you're glowing like the sun. You looked breathtaking.

You motioned  your arms around you to show him to look around and he does. The whole church is glowing and it looks beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you.

"How—" he starts, his voice fading off.

"I found this place a couple years ago when we first started coming here."

"Alone?"

"Alone." You confirm.

"You've never showed anyone else?"

There's a beat of silence.

"No. Just you." You say.

You watch him intently as he walks up to you. He's giving you a look you can't identify. Then he smiles wide.

"I don't know if I should be scared of you or..."

You tilt your head at him.

"Or?" You ask.

You both hear a rumble and your eyes dart up to the sky. Somehow you had both moved to the center of the church.

"I don't know. Something. You're interesting." He whispers, looking back down at you.

You don't realize how close you both are. You're too caught up in this moment to tell.

"You're something, too." You say, a smile pulling at your lips.

He laughs.

And just like that, the skies open up and the rain begins to pour over the both of you.

You look up and laugh.

"We're going to get sick." Bucky chuckles.

The rain picks up even more and Bucky stares down at you. You're soaking wet. Your hair glues to the side of your face and to your shoulders. The rain drops dangles over your lips and your eyelashes.

Somehow, he finds himself grabbing your hand. You squeeze each other tightly.

The lights flicker above you until they finally shut off completely. The rain was getting worst.

Bucky doesn't say anything as he pulls you behind him in the darkness.

For the first time in a long time, you feel truly safe.

Out the church, you both speed walk towards the woods. The trees help a little to shelter you from the rain but it still continues to wet you nonetheless. The cold air didn't help either.

He guides you across the log that's laid over the river, his hands holding your waist. Through more woods and more mud, you're both practically walking puddles.

Both escape the woods and the cabin comes in straight view.

You both make a run for it through the sheets of water, your hands still clasped tightly together.

You find yourself slipping on the mud beneath your now dirty shoes and it causes you to slide to the side and towards the grass.

Bucky laughs out loud as he catches you and you laugh too.

He's got you until you're steady back on your feet and you continue your run inside.

You're at the front door and his hand keeps slipping from the doorknob. He chuckles as he watches you getting even more wet, if possible.

You looked goddamn adorable.

He finally manages to get the  door open and he closes it quietly behind you. You're both still laughing and your shoes squeak over the floor. The cabin is dark, a clear sign that everyone was already asleep,

Bucky is still laughing and your mind is in a daze. You're giggling non stop. Your back is against the wall next to the stairs that leads up to the other rooms and he's standing right in front of you, laughing and smiling non stop.

You place both your hands on his chest as you giggle, and suddenly he's right up against you. Your hands slide up until they are near his shoulders. You can feel him rumbling beneath your hands as he laughs and whispers something you can quite  understand.

"Shhh, shhhh..." you tell him playfully between giggles. He giggles and his eyes crinkle at the sides, "shhh." You say again.

Eventually his giggles dial down, as do yours, and silence engulfs you both.

The rain patters against the glass and ground outside.

Your eyes follow his piercing blue eyes and how they're looking into your own, and then they travel down his nose, and to his lips.

There's no more laughing.

Bucky leans his forehead down against yours and closes his eyes.

Oh, this, this felt like a thousand burning suns.

You find your hands on either side of his neck as his nose hits yours. You both smell like a fresh thunderstorm.

With a sigh he opens his eyes. His left thumb runs over the tops of your cheeks and your eyes meet again.

You feel like you're going to implode when he starts to slowly move in. You find yourself meeting him halfway.

Both of your eyes are halfway closed as his lips finally run over yours in a soft but languid peck.

You're both still when he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again.

In total sync, you both move in at the same time, smashing your lips together in a passionate and dirty kiss.

You find your hand going to the back of his head, near the nape of his neck, and you deepen the kiss even further.

The sound Bucky makes as he tilts his head for better access, letting his tongue run over yours, makes your core tingle and your insides burn.

His right hand is on your waist traveling upwards to your neck. His left hand is cupping your face. The sighs of contentment that you leave on each other is magical and a language of its own.

He slows down his kisses and then fully stops. You're going to ask him what's wrong when he grabs your hand and starts to walk up the stairs.

You've never felt like this before.

This was a first for you.

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him find the spare room that was being unoccupied.

His fingers run over yours as he opens the door and pulls you inside. He locks the door with an audible click and neither of you waste an extra second.

Your kisses are hot and frantic. He's pushing you to walk back towards the bed and you sit on it on your knees. You grab his shirt in a fist and pull him to follow you.

Once he's also on his knees in front of you, he grabs your wrists and leans back to look down at you. Both of your lips are swollen and both of your eyes are dark.

He runs his hand once more over your chin and to the back of your head where your hair runs between his fingers. He leans his forehead down against yours.

Suddenly, you're both nervous.

You've never done this before. You wonder if he has.

You're so shy right now but also so scared; in the best way possible.

"You want this?" His question is hoarse and three octaves lower than it normally is.

You nod.

He kisses you one more time and then his fingers go to the hem of your soaking wet sweatshirt.

Once he pulls it off you, your skin feels much colder and crave his touch. You've got a black tank top on and you help him remove that, too.

You were beautiful. Your perky breasts are the sweetest things he's ever seen and your nipples are hard against the cold air. Left hand to your neck, he kisses you again, letting your tongues dance together.

This time, you help him pull off his own black sweatshirt. He has nothing underneath and your hands immodestly goes to his pecks and down his torso. He shivers underneath your touch.

You're not sure what to do. Since you've never done this, you don't know how much is too much yet. You've only read about scenes like this in books and fanfiction but doing it in real life felt so much scarier.

You knew it was because it was your first time, it would get easier, but you wished it wasn't this scary. Every move you make is determined but hesitant. You're afraid of disappointing him. You wanted this to be perfect.

But you knew that if this was his first time too, it wouldn't be romance book perfect.

But as he removed your shoes and pants, and when you were both just in your underwear, you realized it didn't have to be perfect and that's what made it perfect.

It wasn't about who did what but about what you were trying to express to each other. You hoped deeply that he was feeling the same thing you were.

He's hovering over you. The pillow is behind your head and he's got his left forearm over it. His right hand is on your waist where he rubs soft circles just over your underwear.

You both kiss again, this time his lips catching your bottom one beautifully.

"Bucky." You whisper, hating to break the silence but knowing that communicating is going to be important right now.

"Yeah?" He asks just as quietly, his thumb running over the top of your head.

You maintain eye contact as you shimmy your underwear off and down your legs. Bucky gulps, his eyes darting down as he watches you.

He doesn't miss the way you close your legs involuntarily to shy away from his eyes.

No one has even seen that part of your body before.

"Please be gentle with me." You say.

He whimpers at your words. Not because he doesn't like it but because you sound so sweet.

"Of course," he says, his right hand going to the outside of your thigh. He kisses you again and you moan against his mouth, "I'm scared."  He freezes up at your words. Did he do something you didn't consent to? Did he scare you? Shit. He starts to pull away from you but you grab onto his neck again, "I know it's going to hurt, that's why I'm scared. It's not you. It's that part of me, I never...and I've always heard..." your voice starts to fade away as small tears fill your eyes and  he starts to realize what you were saying.

Bucky doesn't know why he'd always assumed you and Steve had slept together before. Maybe it just seemed to him like it made sense. You and Steve were together for so long and were eighteen already. Bucky wonders why it never happened.

But he's also feeling something else. He's feeling special and prideful. Because you, god how he treasures and admires you. He would never do anything to hurt you ever again and the fact that you will be each others first, it sends a fire through his heart.

He's so happy it's you and he hopes you feel the same way about it.

"I will never hurt you," you trust him immensely even though you know that what he's about to do to your body he has no control over how it will feel. At least not much control, "I've never done this either."  You kiss him when he says that, "it won't be perfect, but that's okay." You whimper, "we'll have other times after this one." He says against your lips. You chuckle at his words, finally feeling more at ease. His words lighten everything for just a moment, but that's it.

"Can I touch you?" He asks against your lips.

You nod.

His lips leave yours and they move to your collarbone. He leaves you three pecks there, then he moves his face back to hover over yours again.  It's then that you watch as he dips two fingers into his mouth and then down to your  core.

You moan quietly as he rubs your clit in small circles. He responds to your moans with his own and he watches your face. Your eyes are closed and the smallest of pants and gasps leave the break of your lips.

"So beautiful." He whispers.

He gains more confidence when he watches you lick your own fingers. You meet his hand.

"Put them inside me." You tell him desperately.

Buck gulps and nods his head. He's never done this. He's watched porn before but actually doing it was different. He doesn't want to disappoint you.

He slides his fingers further down your folds, he gathers something of what's leaking out of you on to his fingers and then slides into you bit by bit with his pointer finger. Then he adds his middle finger.

He stretches his left arm above your head as he looks down at what he's doing to you. He gains confidence and his fingers gain speed and technique, making a come-here motion as he watches you unravel underneath him.

Your hand leaves your clit as his own palm starts to do the work for you.

"Oh, fuck." You groan. It sounds so filthy along with the squelching noises around you and Bucky knows he won't last long the second he's inside of you. He's taking pride in when he sees how he's giving you so much pleasure right now.

He quickens his movements, and you lean up on your arms, looking down at him work you. Your left leg widens a bit and you start to meet his hand with your hips as you feel your end approaching.

You don't care how loud you might be panting and the noise the mattress might be making over the bed. This felt unworldly.

You feel so close that you start overthinking it. What if you became too sensitive and it made the pain worst?

In a matter of seconds you have your hand on Bucky's wrist, stopping him.

You're still panting as he looks at you confused. You don't pull out his fingers, you just hold onto him. You both share a sloppy kiss.

"I want you inside me." You say against his lips.

Bucky keeps eye contact with you as he nods.

He pulls his fingers out of you and your hands go to his boxers.

Bucky hisses when his dick is free. He's already leaking precum and is as hard as a rock. This might be your first time but you know he might not last very long.

That's okay.

Bucky gasps as he feels your small hand wrap around him. It feels softer than you thought it would and heavier. His legs tremble over you as you stroke him once and then twice.

"Fuck,—" he grunts. You look up at him and god if he doesn't look absolutely gorgeous and perfect. He had his own hand on his abdomen as he looked down at you work him just right, "stop, stop." He whines, pulling you off of him.

He grabs your hand and folds your fingers with his. He holds it on the pillow next to your heard. Then he's over you again, and he looks completely enthralled by you.

Your right hand goes to his cheek as you lean up and kiss him softly.

Bucky's thumb from his other hand drags over your top lip.

This was it.

You feel him maneuver and then you feel it. His tip runs from your clit all the way down to your entrance and back again.

You can tell he's already so close and you're so apprehensive.

"I'll go so slow for you, okay? Okay? You don't have to worry with me. I gotcha." He reassures you.

You can only nod as you feel him prepare.

The first inch push isn't so bad. The second still isn't terrible but he can tell you're starting to tense up. You're gnawing at your bottom lip as you stare down. He stops.

"Hey, hey," he says gently, cupping your face, "your tense. Shhh." He wipes the tear that runs down your cheek.

"I'm sorry." You say.

"Don't be sorry. I just need you to keep remembering what I promised you." You nod again.

He waits a few more seconds and then continues. It's the fourth inch that does it for you and you find a shout getting stuck in your throat. It doesn't come out because you're biting so hard on your bottom lip.

"Shh, shh," he says softly, "I got you. I got you."

He keeps going further in and the sting you feel hurts bad, making you almost move up the bed. You gasp, your hand going to his toned abs.

"God." You groan.

"Almost there." Another and another and another.

You shake your head back and forth.

"Just do it fast, Bucky. It's okay." You tell him.

Bucky leans his forehead down on yours and nods.

You close your eyes tightly together until you feel him flush up against you.  He starts with soft thrusts that make you cry softly, but after a few seconds, it starts to go away and you find yourself trying to find his lips.

He moans as you both share a deep kiss and as his hips pick up in speed.

He pulls away from your lips and he moans. It's so hard to keep it quiet when you know everyone outside could hear you. But the sound of skin slapping on skin and your little breaths are too noticeable.

He feels so good inside you, and the way he rubs your clit perfectly in sync with his movements has you feeling amazing.

His thrust get faster and harder and you can see the sweat on his chest.

"I'm sorry, fuck, I can't—" he whimpers, his eyes closing tight. His mouth opens in a gasp as he rams hard into you just once and he's grunting out loud.

You knew this would happen and it doesn't surprise you. It also doesn't disappoint you. You gave him pleasure and you were his first as he was yours. This was everything you wanted.

You let him spill into you and you run your fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer into the crook of your neck where he places little kisses.

He does something you don't expect.

He doesn't stop moving. You know he must be in pain from being over sensitive but he's on a mission for you.

He wasn't going to be a cliche first time where his girl doesn't cum.

"Come on, baby," he mumbles into your neck, his tongue dancing over your hot skin. You feel his fingers on your clit and he starts flicking you fast and hard, "come on." He repeats.

He's practically sobbing at this point as he works overtime to try and get you to cum and fuck, you do.

You cum hard.

You're groaning and moaning and gasping as you grab onto his head and back, eventually your left hand going to the pillow behind your head. You move your hips faster against his rod until you know you've coated him entirely in your cum. Your movements slow down as does his and all you can hear is your heavy panting.

"Oh my god." Almost inaudibly and more to yourself than anything.

He kisses your neck again. He lifts himself just slightly to pull out of you.

He lays down next to you, facing you, and pulls the covers over the both of you.

You're staring at each other, completely lost in the other.

He's trailing your features with his fingers and you're kissing his fingers as they occasionally pass your lips.

He leans forward and kisses your lips once more.

Then, sleep overcomes the both of you.

N E X T   C H A P T E R

[leafmint-does-a-meow]

We’re mutuals now which means I’m allowed to be autistic on main <3 You are ABSOLUTELY right in your interpretation of Jekyll, in my opinion. He is trying So Hard to be neurotypical in a world where there isn’t even a word for that, there’s just ‘normal’ and ‘male hysteria’, and I see myself in this poor sad man.

Also, your depiction of the withholding of food to punish a naughty child? And the way Jekyll knows that, as an adult, he puts too much stock in food and drink? The fact that he has enough education to recognize a trauma response but can’t help the fact he’s doing it? The peak of cinema.

Do you think Jekyll ever did, or considered self harm? I have my own thoughts on the matter, but I’d love to hear what you think!

nah man, you always LEAD with being autistic on main! That's how you find all the other people who are deranged absolutely normal about the same stuff you are!

ugh, yeah, I was diagnosed at 17 so I had already gone through school and puberty wondering What Was Wrong With Me. The world isn't built for ND people, even today. It was even worse in the 19th century...

So fun fact! Well...not really fun, but that was a totally accepted thing that the upper class did with their kids. They believed that too much rich food would create immorality in their children when they reached adulthood and it was very common for food to be withheld as punishment. I bought historian Ruth Goodman's book How To Be A Victorian for fic research (Ruth my beloved) and there was a whole chapter that went into depth about food and nutrition.

'While hunger was at its cruellest among the poor, it sent its tendrils winding around the lives of the more wealthy too... Requests for more food were met with pious lectures about carnal desires and pampering to greed... The self-control and self-denial induced by hunger were thought to teach enduring habits of self-sacrifice and to aid in fashioning a more moral individual.'

I really recommend her book and documentaries if you want to learn more about the 19th century :)

Jekyll probably knows something isn't right, but with the lack of education or even acceptance of the mere existence of mental illness and trauma, he's probably been told his whole life to 'just get on with it', essentially. Poor bub.

Oof, yeah, I mean he definitely has had some dark days. Again, with the lack of knowledge in regards to mental health, he would be inclined to just force himself through it and on to the other side.

In my fic I wrote: 'There were days where his thoughts seemed to eat him alive, where the relentless pounding of his own heart would cause chest pains and exhaustion. It was on these days that dark thoughts would begin to surface, and he would throw himself into his work to evade them.'

The work proves a valuable distraction, until of course he begins to turn it into a process of finding a 'cure' for himself. Just as well he got away to the country when he did, I suppose.

Thanks for the ask! <3

[hope-hopefully-writes]

Writeblr Re-Reintroduction

To pull off the riff from Spiderverse, alright folks let’s do this one more time.

About Me

I’m Hope! She/They/He, Canadian and in my 20’s

My main is @hopeeternia so I’ll be liking and following from there

I have been writing on and off for over a decade, have I actually finished anything? Next question!

I’ve been loosely active here for about 4 years or so.

I like Magical Girls, JRPG’s, reading (fantasy and urban fantasy and a bit of sci-fi is my comfort zones), listening to art videos and making plenty of playlists only to stop listening to them after a while and never deleting them.

I finished a library technician course! It was a fun course and I’m excited to get into the field… let’s hope the job market and lady luck all works out in my favour.

Don’t ask me about my tbr, I have so much on that list it’s not even funny anymore. I’ll maybe shove a link here to a list I’ll make in the future.

I’m also an artist! I’ll probably present some of my art related to my wips here from time to time.

Genres I write in tend to lean fantasy, be it urban or high or second world, with some sci-fi elements. Supernatural beings are also included and expect the influences of what I like to be present. Queer elements are a feature and will be present in some way.

I'm up for some tag games, just don't expect me to respond to them right away.

I’ll mostly be reblogging stuff here, I do have some wips and will be properly presenting them in the future, here’s some sneak peaks under the cut!

Works In Progress

Departure of Blood

With the passing of her mother, Rosalie Mills travels to Duskbell Port to be with her siblings and drag them back home to properly mourn their parents. But when she arrives, the city is soon engulfed in serial murders and her siblings are too occupied to give her the time of day. To get their attention, she decides to independently solve this mystery, only to gain the attention of other individuals with either similar or much different goals. Be careful where one looks, it might come back to bite you, literally.

Last year, I wrote this drabble about Rosalie leaving her hometown on a train. This year, I'm expanding it to hopefully try to write a novel? I have too many projects but I'm determined to at least write 10000 words of this one in November 2024. Family Drama, Drama in the City, Relationship Drama, Murder Mystery, vaguely turn of the 1900's inspired and Vampires. The tag is #wip: Departure of Blood or #wip: DoB

To Pierce the Sun’s Veil

Junie’s life has changed since her mother went missing, and it’s about to change again. Her search for her mother has gone nowhere and on the day she gets caught up in an incursion from across the Veil, a new path emerges. A deal with a fae called Iris allows her to transform into the Veiled Hero, Violet Sun. The problem? The fae are the ones behind the incursions. Now she has to work with a team while keeping her deal secret as she tries to accomplish both sides of the deal.

This started out as an idea of retelling Rapunzel but as magical girls, it has evolved since then but the initial inspiration is still somewhat there. The name may change at some point though. Name shenanigans are abound, as there are True Names and Public Names, as well as Veiled Names (this last one is specifically for Veiled Heroes). Urban Fantasy that holds inspiration from the magical girl shows I’ve watched growing up, featuring 18 to 20 somethings figuring out adjusting to adulthood on top of the magical fights. This is a story that has the potential to branch off into other stories for sure. It’s tag is #wip: To Pierce the Sun’s Veil or #wip: TPtSV

The World of Astral Rezellia

Adva Helio only wishes to find those she cares about and get away from the conflict that’s slowly enveloping the nations of Astral Rezellia. Yet as she finds one, she loses another and is forced to flee to find new allies and is forced into the very conflict she would rather not get that involved in.

Previous names include, The Nameless Constellation, Academy of Stars and Astral Sanctuary Academy. A fantasy story very much initially started out of spite towards Fate The Winx Saga’s choices and very much transformed into its own thing inspired more by a general love for the kinds of adventures found in JRPG’s. It’s on the back burner though as I go through yet another rework of things. It’s tag is #wip: Astral Rezellia or #wip: TWoAR

I also write fanfics, but I won’t be sharing them all that much except for some pieces of writing that I’m really proud of. They will be tagged #fanfic wip: [title of story] or #fanfic

And any of my older wips that I’m not working on will be tagged in a fashion like #old wip: [title of story] or #old story

[magnorious]

Young Royals Perfectly Understands Frustrating Teenagers

*Spoiler Alert for the whole series*

This Netflix-produced Swedish teen drama just wrapped up its third and final season. It follows the second-in-line to the Swedish throne, Wilhelm “Willie” navigating a fancy boarding school rife with toxic social hierarchies and a crippling addiction to dangerous traditions, while also discovering his sexuality. Suddenly, his older brother dies and he’s now the crown prince, when no one ever expected him to have this responsibility, including himself. His jerk of a cousin records him and his new secret boyfriend being intimate and so ensues three seasons of drama surrounding the chaos of this poor kid being outed to the whole world, and the damage of publicity on his relationships.

*I watched this with subtitles and cannot comment on the quality of any dub.

This show is incredibly frustrating, because its characters are frustrating—because they’re incredibly believably teenagers who stake their entire futures on a high school fling. Willie and his love interest, Simon, are in a constant struggle over Willie’s great expectations as the new crown prince and Simon, of a lower social class, having a great many demands over how he thinks he should be able to live his life.

The characters have a ton of depth and that goes well beyond the two leads. The villain of the show, August, the evil cousin, is a hot mess who can’t do anything right. One that absolutely expects to peak in high school and sail through adulthood on his family’s legacy. He’s also Willie’s spare if he abdicates the throne, a rather unique twist on the prince trope I haven’t seen very often. Willie doesn’t want to be king, but he hates the idea of August on the throne even more, and, if only to spite his cousin, strays way outside of his comfort zone and ignores his own wants and desires to make sure he becomes king.

Other side characters include the dudebro boys of their school, also all dickish aristocrats, the ladies’ side of the school, and Simon’s sister's relationship with these socialites and her awesome best friend, Felice.

—

*spoiler alert again*

These two characters, Willie and Simon, are terrible for each other. Simon is too young and immature to understand and appreciate the demands of being royalty in a modern setting. He gets upset at Willie for all manner of things—that Simon has to watch what he posts on social media, who he talks to, who he takes pictures with, what statements he makes, and his unrealistic expectations of any politician. Every time he gets upset, I understand that he’s 17, but I’m also scowling at my TV thinking, “What exactly did you expect, dating royalty?”

Willie, on the other hand, bends over backwards for this guy and desperately needs to actually attend his therapy sessions instead of angsting over his doomed-to-fail romance. They’re entertaining, but they are so, so stressful to watch, whether it’s their many arguments or whenever they start making out in a public place where they can be caught.

They break up, get back together, break up, get back together. In the 11th hour of season 3, Simon officially breaks it off and I actually cheered. I figured the finale would end with the sick queen’s funeral and Willie reluctantly accepting his birthright.

That did not happen. Instead, Willie and August have a rushed “all’s forgiven” conversation, he abdicates, and runs after Simon to be free of a responsibility he never wanted. On the one hand, yes, he never wanted to be king, that much was clear from the moment he found out he was the new crown prince, but on the other hand—Willie wasn’t the character who needed to change for this relationship to work.

Simon was.

Simon, who argued with him constantly over the conservative nature of the monarchy, for all the stances Willie wasn’t allowed to take because of his rank. Simon could have ended this season either breaking up with him for good, or committing to the responsibility of loving royalty, and the two could have looked to a future of slew of progressive changes once Willie had the authority to enact change as king.

August won’t enact shit. August who, upon telling his friends that he’s the new second-in-line, realizes acutely how miserable he’s about to be for the long rest of his life. I half expected this guy to not survive to the end of the season with how self-destructive he is.

It feels like they had a different direction planned for the finale and someone somewhere cut it down. That, or Netflix's "3 season" rule made no exceptions and they had to rush to the finish line.

—

Overall, they’re frustrating, but they’re also incredibly well-written teenagers. The constant pop/club music over actual score got annoying but it’s an exposure to artists I never listen to. The acting is fantastic across the board, as well, along with the editing and cinematography. The actual plot, up to the finale, was engaging and well thought out, with these two heirs duking it out in a cold war with the entire school caught in the middle.

Maybe I just don’t understand Swedish teenagers. I certainly can’t speak to if this at all reflects the reality of Swedish culture and living under a monarchy. It’s a shame that, in my opinion, it didn’t quite stick the landing with the messages it wanted to send, but the show’s a solid, if stressful watch, and a short one at that.

[kindheart525]

There was a cave on the rock farm playfully dubbed the “Crying Cave” by the sisters when they were young, a nickname which ended up sticking well into their adulthoods. It was a place where any of the Pies could go, in moments of strife, to cry, scream in anger, or simply think. The crystals were like friends to listen to your problems; they would always be there.

Limestone Pie had avoided lingering here after her father passed, only entering its secluded walls to mine whatever resources she needed and then leave. Even when her other family members took their time in there to mourn, she didn’t need to. Or she just…didn’t have the time for it.

But it was exactly where she knew she’d find her son, who had a lot to think about as of late. And now…so did she.

“Mountain Peak!”

The mare called out in her usual harsh tone, but then attempted to soften her voice.

“You in here?”

“Agh! I mean, yep! I’m here!”

Mounty appeared over a wall of crystals, his eyes widened in surprise. Lime couldn’t quite tell if he flew up there or jumped out of fear.

The colt’s expression shifted to vague disappointment once he saw who it was. He landed on the other side of the wall, now looking guilty.

“I wasn’t gonna be in here for long, I promise! Pinkie Promise! I’ll get back ta work now, what did ya want me to do?”

“Sit down.”

Limestone ordered with the same authority as her own mother, though not as gently. 

“Uh…please. I want to talk. We’ll work later.”

It was like Holder’s Bolder had cracked open in broad daylight. Limestone Pie remembering to say please and thank you!? Postponing work for even a minute!? He jested to himself…but she wanted to talk to him? Honest to Gaia? 

At this point Mounty had almost resigned himself to never having a real conversation with her, but maybe Ma AJ had gotten through to her after all.

“What’s goin’ on?”

He asked, though both of them knew the answer.

Limestone stood in silence for a moment, moving her mouth like she was about to say something but then stopping to reconsider. She wasn’t so good with feelings.

“I…uh…”

Limestone cleared her throat, deciding she wasn’t going to dance around this and drag it out more than she needed to. The colt could handle a straightforward explanation.

“Your Ma talked to me today, while we were out running errands. About how you’ve been behaving and how you’re feeling. You talked to her, right?”

“Yes?”

What are you gettin’ at here?

Mounty was confused as he wondered if he was in for a scolding or a real conversation.

“I know it’s been hard for you since your grandpa, ahem, passed on. And if your Ma’s right, I guess I’ve made it worse. A lot worse.”

A new pang of guilt shot through her as she said this, thinking of how she’d treated him. 

Mounty, the unabashedly good-natured colt he was, opened his mouth like he was about to stop her, say, no, you didn’t, it’s okay. But that would have been a lie.

“Taking apart that machine you built is probably the worst thing.”

Limestone started going through the list in her head of things to apologize for,  one by one, without fooling around.

“You didn’t take time off from work to build that thing. It even got you your cutie mark. It showed a lot of craftponyship and planning, and you should be proud. Even though I didn’t agree with the purpose, I shouldn’t have gotten all pissed off like that. I wouldn’t like it if somepony destroyed my hard days’ work like that.”

“It ain’t about the slide.”

Mounty frowned.

“I could build a new one o’ those no problem. It’s all those nasty things you said, ‘bout how I wasn’t doin’ anythin’ useful with mah cutie mark. An’ how I was disrespectin’ not only Grandpa but the whole family. Don’t you remember? That hurt somethin’ awful.”

“Yeah…”

Limestone cringed at herself, not just for what she said but how she was trying to talk her way around these more deeply-cutting actions of hers.

“That was bad, even for me. And it isn’t even true. Look—“

She sat up straighter to look him squarely in the eye.

“It took me a long time to realize this but I was wrong. About a lot of things. Like what your Grandpa would have wanted. If your Grandma and Great Aunt Morganite know anything, it’s that he would have liked that slide of yours. And…I’m sorry I tried making you think otherwise.”

Apologizing was extremely hard for Limestone, so she broke her gaze and turned away, hardly wanting to look at the colt she’d wronged.

“Thank you.”

Mounty said.

“An’ even though I had my doubts sometimes, I reckon I always knew he woulda liked it. Y’see, the Hearth’s Warmin’ before he passed, Grandpa an’ I had a bit of time together, and we talked a bit. He said I had a mighty important role ta fill on the farm, that I’d help it flourish an’ be an asset the the family.”

“Did he?”

Limestone uttered.

“Yeah. I reckon I took that ta heart, tryin’ ta fill that role an’ make him proud ever since. Even when uh…some ponies said I wasn’t doin’ it right.”

Mounty didn’t want to be confrontational and say that it was really only Limestone who said this, but she knew what he meant.

“Damn. I spent this whole time trying to make him proud too. When all I’ve really been…”

Her voice choked up.

“Is an insult to his memory.”

She slammed her hat down on the ground, throwing it almost like it was something foreign, something that didn’t belong to her.

“He…I talked to him too. Did you know that? He told me to take care of our family and protect what we stand for. And…and I did anything but that!”

Mounty wasn’t sure what she was doing at first, with her face concealed behind the smooth silver curtain of her mane. Perhaps scolding herself in the anger that was typical of her. But no…she was crying.

This was a long time coming, yet it was so unusual that he didn’t know what to do. He’d never seen his Mom even shed a tear before now. After a few moments of letting her sit there and let it out, he whispered,

“You really do miss yer Pa, don’t you?”

“He…he taught me everything I know.”

Limestone sniffled, wiping her eyes.

“At least, he tried to. I don’t know how much I learned. I wish he were still here, to teach me all this again. I’d actually listen this time. I swear to Gaia.”

She turned to look at her son.

“Maybe then I’d figure out how to actually support my foals so they don’t keep having to run off to this stupid Crying Cave.”

“Well…there ain’t nopony sayin’ ya can’t start now.”

Mounty tried to reassure her.

“I’m sure he’ll be proud seein’ ya try. I’m sure he did appreciate you always thinkin’ of him even if you…didn’t always get it right.”

He smiled.

“But we’re both in this cave now. I reckon we both need it?”

Normally Lime would have scolded him about talking back to her, for suggesting she wasn’t doing her job right. For a split second she did think of it, but he was right. She had just admitted it herself. She had a lot of work to do.

And she had to be the adult and be there for him.

“I’ll try to figure it out myself, but don’t be scared to tell me when there’s a better way to do things if I don’t get it. Even if I’m all rocky and jagged about it.”

She chuckled at the pun.

“You’ll have to be able to take charge if you’re going to run this farm one day.”

Mounty gasped.

“Really? Me?”

“If Grandpa wills it, it will be so.”

She affirmed.

“Give me that.”

She gestured towards his bow tie, which he took off after a brief look of questioning.

And to his surprise, the mare who wouldn’t dare alter her father’s belongings tied the pink ribbon around his hat for a whole new look.

“Your Grandpa would be so proud of you, Mounty. You have all the creativity and care I now know was always in him. He was right, you’re one of the best things to ever happen to this farm and this family.”

At this point she was crying again and so was Mounty, with happiness this time. They could both feel their love for their respective Pa and Grandpa reflected in each other, more strongly than ever.

Mounty moved in for a hug, one that was much needed, with his wings and forelegs wrapped fully around his mother who finally returned the gesture.

After a good long moment, Limestone’s quivering lips turned up into a playful smirk.

“Now…what do you say we go rebuild that slide?”

She pushed the hat down on his head, prompting a fit of laughter.

“Haha! You think we can do it as good?”

“We might even make it better. Just lead the way, farmer.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: High Quality Crystal

[chocoblep]

#21: A Favorite Spot

He remembered her smiles the clearest. The way her plush lips would part just enough to afford a peek at her teeth, the faint laugh lines that deepened with her happiness, the way her nose scrunched… they were like balms to his melancholy at the time. M'rath couldn't help but return any smile that Eden had given him. He remembered summer nights beneath the stars, as the mercenary company he'd run with camped for one reason or another. He'd needed to get away from the stifling pressure of wealth, and so he'd taken a season off every turn from his early adulthood well into his late twenties to travel and work with honest folk. It was how he had met several of the people he now regarded as his friends. Illian had retired from mercenary life the last time Rath had traveled with the company, and he'd offered him the job he now held. He'd seen many from the company since, and Eden had been a frequent visitor to his estate in the turns since.

The last time he'd seen her, though, she had gone off to an active war zone after entrusting him with her baby–a meticulously maintained bonsai tree. She had not returned after five turns, and when the fighting where she’d been had quieted down and he’d been able to make inquiries, he’d learned that she had breathed her last on that battlefield.

There was no memorial for her and her fellow soldiers, so he’d given her a quiet one in her favorite place near his home: The top of a waterfall, where she often went cliff diving and teased him for not being courageous enough to do it himself. That memory alone brought a smile to the Miqo’te’s face, and he would sit by the little headstone and stare into the pool below for an hour or so, simply remembering.

This time, as he sat with his legs crosswise on the grass, he did not stare over the edge of the cliff at the pool below, but faced the headstone instead. He’d brought the bonsai tree with him, settling it in front of the stone.

“As you can see, your child is doing well,” he’d said, and given the stone a thin-lipped smile. “I look after it myself. I don’t let anyone else but Illian touch it, and only when I am gone and cannot tend it myself. You were right. It is relaxing to learn, train, and tend this tree. In a sennight or so, there will be blossoms on this little one’s boughs. I cannot remember how many there were when it was yours, but they seem to increase in number by one or two each turn. I just figured that you might want to spend a little time with it today. It’s such a nice morning.”

Eventually he moved, planting his back to the headstone and peering over the edge. “I’m sure you’re happy to know I’m still not man enough to jump off a cliff,” he said by way of keeping the conversation going. He could imagine her laughing at that, and as he watched the water for signs of life, he perked his ears to listen. Sometimes he saw fish breach the surface, and once he’d been here at the same time as a family of Elezen who swam about in the pool below, splashing and laughing and generally having a great time. This early in the morning, with the sun’s rays just barely dappling through the trees, there was no one there, but the sound of the roaring water was comforting nonetheless.

He stayed there until the sun was nearly at its peak, updating Eden’s spirit on the more recent things that had happened to him–his dalliances with semi-regular lovers, the confusion in his mind over what he felt for them, Illian’s constant prodding for him to get out of the estate more when he wasn’t working. When he stood to retrieve the bonsai trees and say his goodbye, he paused. There, nestled in the lower boughs of the tiny tree, was a miniscule blossom. The first shy blossom of spring, facing him like he was the first rays of the sun. He smiled warmly at that.

“Thank you, Eden. I miss you, too.”

[from-the-starss]

✩ ABOUT THIS PAGE ✩

Here is everything about this Tumblr! Under the cut you can find about me, about my OCs, about my writing, and a few extra things in-between ❤

About Me

I am in my early 20s, I’m Indigenous, I’m gay, and I go by she/her and he/him! I like anime, video games, books, and music. I think that’s all I really need to say since this blog is about my OCs, but if there’s anything you wanna know shoot me a message or send in an ask! 

My OCs

I have a bunch of OCs, but you’ll mainly see the same four. I call them the Four Main Siblings or the Powers Siblings. 

Everyone has their own tag with their name so if you see one that peaks your interest, they’ll be tagged so you can check them out! I keep a lot of stuff on this blog about them, and some might be outdated. It’s just a log to see how far they’ve come and how far they will go, so apologizes if anything is confusing. You can always ask me to clarify.

The Powers Siblings 

Here you can click/tap on the names to learn more about these guys! 

Nessie Powers | Ricky Powers | Annie Powers | Ossy Powers 

If you are interested, you can take this quiz right HERE and see who you are most like out of the four

My Writing 

So I do hope to have this written as a full out story one day. This is all development stuff and kinda like behind the scenes stuff. That is if I ever do get this out! For now, I’ll give a simple explanation on how these OCs work together.

The Powers Siblings all have their own super power that they were born with. They grew up as heroes and are seen in very high regard, even into their adulthood. One day, they enter a portal and get sent to another world, where nobody has powers. The siblings each get sent to a different place in this world and now must find each other again, but they were followed. With making new friends along the way, each sibling get their own story until they all reunite into one story and final climax as they undercover secrets from their past. 

Basically, each sibling get their own story where they are the main character. The first four books in this series can be read in any order. The last part of the story will be with all of them being the protagonist as the book will switch perspective between the four of them. I’m not too sure if the last part will be one or two books long, but you must read the first four books before the last part!

As I've said, I want this to be an actual published story one day so I won't be sharing too much of the story and my writing as I don't want spoilers lol. However, I’m open to write non-canon stuff and/or stuff that won't spoiler the story at all. Let me know what you think of the story! 

Thank you for reading!!! 

If you read all of this you're cool! I’m always up to talk more about my OCs or even if you have OCs you wanna share with me, I would love to hear about them! Thanks again 😊

[kronim195]

I actually used to hate Final Fantasy believe it or not.

Sure I loved FF7 as a kid even if I was barely literate enough to interpret what was even going on, but in my late-teens and early early adulthood I kinda started noticing how badly written stuff I used to be obsessed with like Crisis Core, Dirge of Cerberus, Advent Children and Kingdom Hearts were. I watched a lot of Spoony vids (yeah I know) which planted seeds of hatred for FF8 and FFX despite really liking those games as a kid, and I just assumed FF7 was also bad all along and I had grown out of the series. I made fun of it online a lot, and wrote off FF as dumb and nonsensical.

Then I think when I was 22 or 23, I decided to give FF7 another go, as an adult this time, and wait what?? It’s actually...good??? I was having a blast with this game, playing as an adult who can actually fucking read and think critically, I understood the characters and the themes that flew right over my head when I was young. Cloud Strife, who as a kid I liked superficially because he was the spikey haired aloof anime man with the cool sword, actually had tons of depth and a character arc so unique and complicated that hit me emotionally really hard? I fell in love with this game and understood it more than I ever had before.

I went back and played FFX with low expectations, but wait??? what??? I love this one too??? What the fuck??? Is Final Fantasy....good?????

Unfortunately not every revisit into these games went like this. I still have a pretty low opinion on FF8, (though not as harsh as Mr. Spoony) and I find the writing in all the FF7 spin-offs and Kingdom Hearts to be downright embarrassing. But Since then I’ve played every mainline title and have enjoyed (almost) all of them. I played FF9 a few years ago and now that’s one of my favorite games of all time, too.

Of course I don’t think these games, even the ones I hold in very high regard, are peak literature or even the best RPGs mechanically or anything even close to that, in fact I could probably make an even longer post than this talking about the things I don’t like in og FF7 alone, but I’m glad I got over myself and just let myself enjoy and get immersed into these games. Because now I get to be annoying about them online.

Anyway...I uh...I’m not sure what point I was trying to make with all that, I just kinda felt like rambling. I guess the point is I think Final Fantasy is pretty epic :)

[impablohurtado]

32

I've been thinking a lot about the future and what I want to do with my life. Am I meant to fix a goal for myself to achieve or am I at the point where I just take it day by day? For as long as I can remember I'd set goals for myself as a distraction, this year doing a new album each day of the year. I'm not sure why, but it helps me knowing there's a point to reach that I'm working towards.

I turned thirty-two last month, and it feels like it’s just another year. Still, it’s another year in my life, and I’ve found myself thinking about where I will go from here. I'm no longer in politics, and I don't have the energy to be an activist, whatever that means. Sometimes, I wonder if there was meaning behind what I did. It feels sometimes like it was all for naught. It took up so many years of my life, I hope it wasn't. I purchased a home several years ago and moved to a new city two years ago. I don't want to dedicate myself to work, but what else is there?

It's hard not to compare myself to my family. By the time my father was my age, he had three children, a family, and a home. My sisters have theirs, maybe soon my brother could have his. I see established careers, happy relationships, love, a future. I'm wandering trying to figure my way out.

I enjoyed my birthday a lot this year, more than I usually do. I was never a fan of them growing up. Maybe it’s because school was always right around the corner, maybe it was just me unsure if I was excited at the prospect of another year of life. It might seem dramatic, but why does it have to be dramatic when someone doesn't have the vigor for life others do? If it had just been as a kid, would it be easier to shrug off? Does the fact it carried for so long into my adulthood change things?

Still, even though I don’t find myself eager to celebrate them, I am excited at the idea of living more, most of the time at least. I didn't feel alone this year, and that was enough for me to be happy.

I keep wondering when will I figure it out? When do I find out what I’m meant to do? I’ve been working on myself. I don’t know how long I’m supposed to do that, but I'm trying to be the best version of myself I can be.

I can go out and explore, I have a capacity to go out and see things that others cannot. I've traveled to places I never dreamed of, stood on cliffs hundreds of feet in the air overlooking the ocean spanning for miles and miles. I've stared out out from castles hundreds of years old and halfway around the world into wide open fields filled with sheep and places I'd never take a step. I've stood on the top of a mountain peak gazing out at the forestry below, putting into perspective how small we really are in this world… For all the celebration, I feel an emptiness I’m still trying to fill.

Sometimes I think I can love, I have it in me to love. I wrote about it for so long, but shook it off in recent years. When I was a little boy, I had this affection in me, and I don't know where it came from.

It took me many years to realize I needed to love myself before I could try and love anyone else. I love life, and I think that's enough. But sometimes I think if there's no one in my life, then do I have nothing to do? I know that's not true, and still, for all this, I find it difficult to get close to anyone. One of the lasting traits my mother left me with was the inability to accept affection, the inability to believe I could be enough.

I wrote a poem below about how I feel most of the time.

I've always been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

For the chair beside me to grow empty,

For a door to swing open and the only image I see to be a person's back,

Hair falling across their shoulders,

As footsteps carry them away to someone else,

Leaving me to reluctantly shrug,

To tell myself the same words,

"Better now than later,

If not now, then when?

Earlier is easier.

Less loss to shake off if it happens now."

To see them leaving to a better place

Into another's embrace

The place they were meant to be.

I've always felt like a placeholder.

For something better to come

It used to hurt me a lot.

Time made me expect it.

It became a part of my routine whenever I met someone and grew close to them.

An inevitable date set on the calendar from the start,

The day they leave,

I built an armor to brace myself,

Because if I let it hurt me every time,

I'd be a pile of ash on the floor,

Pummeled into dust because of my own delusion,

Delusion they would choose to stay.

I could never feel like enough,

Never enough for anyone,

Maybe it's because my mom left us,

For all the love she carried the good parts couldn't hold her down.

She let her torment carry her away all those years ago,

With children waiting for her to walk back in that door,

Left staring at an empty street,

Her car gone in the night,

Tiny hands clasped tightly asking for someone to bring her home.

I'd ask myself, what did I do?

How can I keep her from going?

At 7 years old I didn't have the answer.

Just puffy eyes longing for her, comforting my little brother.

It turns out I never would find the answer.

I spent years praying for a fix for her that never came.

We were never enough to bring her back to us and it still keeps me up some nights.

Sometimes I think it's because I was never enough for myself.

Rarely was I ever up to the task.

To live the day for me?

No.

It was too much to ask.

Instead, I wandered through the days,

Setting tasks to take up my time,

Extending them into projects,

Crusades,

Let me not think… let me just act,

I'll help others,

I'll run,

I'll fix my home,

I'll build a deck,

Find a task and run with it like I'm running away,

As if the actions could be independent of one another,

Hoping they lasted the day, the week, the month,

Often, they did not,

And I’d be left to acknowledge days I did not always want to go on.

32 years in and I think I'm there now.

The days are for me,

To wander at my leisure,

Enjoy a conversation,

A beach day,

Still not my thoughts, some things don’t change.

Music and books in my earphones fill my day.

Shaking off the bad moments,

Letting them take hold when they must,

But never too long…

Often not too long…

Most of the time it is not too long.

So sometimes I think maybe,

Maybe I could be enough,

That the time will come where the seat beside me will be filled

With company not tapping their feet in wait,

Anxiously waiting for someone better,

Where the door I imagine doesn't close,

It vanishes entirely.

Leaving just us two together.

But I still don't know if it'll come.

And I see the door at night,

Gently swaying with the breeze of my AC blowing in the room.

I guess I haven't grown as much as I'd like.

I haven’t shaken off the feeling entirely, but I’m learning and living. I moved with the goal of getting better mentally and I did. But we can’t fix ourselves one hundred percent, there are parts of us to rusted out, those parts serve to make the rest shine brighter. Life is about finding someone who appreciates the parts that have rust whether you can see them or not.

It's easy for me to write here about how hard it is to live with this. It's harder to be open with someone who's standing in front of you. I worry about scaring people off. To understand someone struggles with depression is one thing, to see it is another.

Sometimes, I can't shake off panic attacks. They are more sporadic, but they do come. They make it hard for me to breathe. I feel a tightness in my chest, and it's hard to speak. I felt them first as a teenager. They didn't get bad until the pandemic and my campaign for office. Since then, they have subsided only to reappear every few months in a one-off.

Working on yourself endlessly, but not being able to change that one part of you takes its toll. It can feel easier to be alone than to hope that the person you find is open to accepting that part of you. I don't know if I'll ever get over this hill.

Sometimes, I wonder though, if I didn’t fight hard enough for what I wanted. I worry I’ve been passive through too much, content to accept things because life has a path and mine diverged somewhere along the line.

Maybe I got the passiveness from my father. I love him, but I think sometimes he was. Maybe it’s just me, and I use that as an excuse, a reason for my lack of push through. Do we ever get past the experiences we lived through as children? I hope so.

As I get older, I want to shake that off because I realize I let go of too much and I’m tired of letting go. Maybe sixty could be the new thirty in a world where coffee shops serve free coffee and birthday gifts are a Target bag dropped at your front door. Not everyone will understand, but that's okay because not everything is for everyone.

Next month I’m going to Japan. Again, I’ll be halfway around the world trying to figure life out, living for those who can’t go with me. Hands I can’t walk through a new city with sitting back home waiting for a moment that may or may not come.

I haven’t always wanted to live, but I’ve found reasons to, spaces that fill me with excitement, people who make me happy and make me enjoy living. I've met many people, I'll meet many more, but the ones in my life now I'd like to keep, I'm tired of losing people I love, once is enough.

Space left for a photo I was able to take this week after many years that I enjoy looking at.

[ledenews]

Jermaine Lucious: Pointing at a Paradise Some Refuse to Provoke

Peak a boo, he’s looking at you. Well, maybe, but that just means he’s one of us, though. One of the observers. Just another set of eyes watching our lives because we place ourselves on display – and up for judgement – more so now than ever before.  But that’s where we are now, and that’s where Jermaine Lucious is, too. Not only does he work as a youth counselor, but he’s also a Karaoke host and a partner with Exit Zero Entertainment, a local business that books music and comedy. That’s right, he wants you to smile, maybe even laugh a little, too, but first and foremost, he’d love us all on the same page no matter of age, race, or religion. Why? Because it’s possible, that’s why. And Lucious sees it that simply, too, and he has no idea whatsoever why so many others refuse to even sneak a peak down a street that doesn’t lead to a land full of hate-filled deceit and discrimination. Lucious, though, always will point you down the path.   Lucious posts on social media a lot of reactions to what he experiences during his days. You observe a lot on social media and then you comment on what you see. Why the commentary? A few years back I saw one of my favorite directors, Kevin Smith, speak. He said the three things he believes drive people are to “Eat, Make Love (He used different terminology) and be heard.”  I think I just want to be heard like most. I want to make sure I have nothing left to say when it’s my time to go. Social media is a great form of entertainment. It keeps me aware and engaged in current events.  As long as I’m respectful and honest, and try not to harm others, I think I’m doing it right. Overall, what is it you see? I’ve seen good. I’ve witnessed people find understanding and acceptance. I’ve seen young people find their cultural “niche” earlier in life. Whether that be in music, movies, hobbies, fashion, etc. I’ve seen people network and find social groups they would have never been exposed to 20 years ago.I also believe it’s the biggest cause of division in this country.I think the media helps drive division by taking two or three tweets and publishing them as a story. On social media, we tend to take words like “conservative” and “liberal” and apply them to the most extreme comments we’ve seen. There isn’t much room for nuance. I think there is a whole generation of people who, for the first time, were told their views were seen as “backward” or their jokes as “offensive”. I think that has caused a bit of resentment. They lack an understanding of how social media has changed the views of the younger generation. A whole generation has had the opportunity to find humanity in a diverse group of people by listening to their stories.  People are looking toward school curriculums and blaming corporations like Disney or Budweiser when all along, it's Vloggers on YouTube and Tik-Tok.  In a recent series of statements on social media, you say meeting people in bars who were not alive on 9/11 make you uncomfortable. Please explain. My Father was a much older man when I was born. So, I’ve always measured historical dates after 1940 by how old he was and where he would have been on the planet. It’s kind of been my way of putting things into perspective. I’ve gone on to do that with other people. For 20 years, “Where were you on 9/11?” was a question I could ask people to get a better understanding of who they are and where they came from. Now that post-9/11 children are reaching adulthood, it signals a new era. These young people were raised in a much different world than I was. I’m nearing 40, and I’m feeling a generational disconnect, which I’m sure we all do if we’re around long enough. He wants you to smile and maybe even laugh as he is hosting Karaoke at Taqueria 304. As a Karaoke host, how have you learned to tell some people that they should never sing publicly again?  I’m sure the fine folks at Taqueria 304 wouldn’t want me even hinting to people that they shouldn’t come back and sing. Let’s be honest though, Karaoke singers aren’t usually known for their “Ticket to Hollywood” vocals.  I just don’t want you to be boring. We try to hype every single singer up when they take the mic in hopes they’ll let loose and entertain the crowd. I want to see you dance. Give me some soul. Play air guitar with one of the inflatables. Sing something borderline inappropriate. You left your home, came out on a Tuesday night, and build up the courage to sing in front of others. Just don’t stand there and read the lyrics to “Soak up the Sun.” What is the best story a cemetery has ever told you? I’ve recently enjoyed informing my nephew that his practice field on 16th Street used to be the site of a cemetery. There isn’t one single story I can point to. The cemeteries in town tell the story of the city. I came across a beautiful headstone at Peninsula Cemetery shaped to look like a tree trunk. A quick search of the library’s newspaper archives revealed the man was a gardener who lived on the Island and his funeral was held in his home in the 1890s.   You notice countless graves of affluent people whose names are plastered on the buildings in this city. You come across markers of people you have met. This weekend I noticed a section of Greenwood Cemetery that were mostly the graves of children. I hope to do some research to see if they were all from the same hospital or orphanage. It was nice to show them some attention and respect. You notice that some Cemeteries have fallen out of vogue in the city, and their mausoleums and headstones are reaching disrepair. Then you realize that’s guaranteed to be the fate of all cemeteries in time. It makes me want to enjoy life more.  Read the full article

[nedflix-n-chill]

12 Days of Christmas #11 Await Further Instructions Oh, I dug this. Yep this is my shit right here. I grew up on a steady dose of Twilight Zone marathons. Into adulthood I'm all about that Black Mirror. Personally, I like my scifi dripping with socially conscious morality plays. I'm talking first time your memaw saw Elvis swing his hips DRIPPING. Star Trek over Star Wars every day all day. It also helps that I got this blu-ray for free at a trivia contest. I never even heard of this movie. It's easy to enjoy something you have ZERO expectations for. Plus the only thing better than something free is when you won it so it was kinda the perfect storm of instances designed for someone to be "pleasantly surprised" by something that basically just has to clear the low bar of not causing me physical harm. And with that I realize I basically undermined those instances that set up the perfect viewing. By a) telling you it's good, and 2) mentioning such titans of the genre I'm setting unreasonably lofty expectations. Really shooting myself in the foot here but that's why I use a fake name so y'all can't catch me on the street when I recommend I Know Who Killed Me and you think I need to answer for those 105 minutes I robbed from you (I'm a coward). Yo this is about going to your racist ass family's for the holiday but some external force makes you unable to leave. Like Buñuel's The Exterminating Angel with boomers instead of the bourgeois (OK now I'm just being obnoxiously hyperbolic, I'm sorry). But then they start receiving commands they need to follow and that's where the shit hits the fan in a really fun crazy way. It's super timely, rife with allegory regarding media consumption and presciently mirroring the pandemic/self-quarantining though this came out in 2018 so if you think it has any specific covid agenda it's probably you projecting. But isn't drawing those parallels exactly what makes this type of scifi engaging and ultimately hold up over time? Also it has a pretty bonkers ending which I'm sure will lose some but fuck it, I'll stand by this one and meet you out behind the Wawa and we'll settle this like 2 people who peaked in high school. https://www.instagram.com/p/CmkKOlTvZ5a/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[aegor-bamfsteel]

I really wish Jaehaera was wife and Queen of Aegon III instead of Daenora and was alive during Blackfyre Rebellions. What would her reaction would be when Daena was passed in favour of Viserys II, as its the same thing to happen her aunt Rhaenyra(and his mother!) - would she the one who help built the friendship between Daemon and Aegor, the one who suggested the marriage of Daemon and Rohanne? Would she be disappointed in Elaena? So many things to explore imo

Killing Jaehaera off at age 10 and for Aegon to not even care was one of the most annoying parts of F&B for me. It helps undermine one of the underlying messages of the Dance; that the older generation was self-destructive and unworthy of rule, so the only ones left to build a future together were the traumatized kids…except now that Jaehaera’s dead it feels like a complete Black victory, not a Black/Green compromise stalemate like before. It also keeps the Black/Green conflict in concrete present memory, as there are still Greens around by necessity instead of the major Greens leaving court by being stupid (Unwin Peake). Apparently I’m not alone with this, because people on Reddit floated the idea of Jaehaera living to be an adult queen in the show and being an influence on the Blackfyres. Of course you’d have to give her a personality transplant—as what little we get of her calls her “a sweet, simple girl”, probably not that interested in politics or ruling, though again she was only 10—to have her make some of the decisions you’ve described.

more discussion of the AU under the cut:

Jaehaera was technically usurped herself. By the law of Andal succession, as she was Aegon II’s last remaining child, the should’ve been heiress with Aegon as her consort rather than the other way around. I could definitely see someone in that position feeling angry about Baelor annulling his marriage to Daena, essentially taking the throne away from her family that was basically obliterated in the war (because if she was disinherited despite Andal custom, why not Daena if Baelor clearly wasn’t going to sire any heirs?) due to Baelor’s hypocritical religious fervor (septons are supposed to give up all their lands and titles, so if Baelor was a Septon he should’ve gone to a sept to study, not imprison his sisters). But of course, everyone with a brain hated the Maidenvault idea.

I think any noble mother would’ve felt disappointed at her daughters for having children out of wedlock, although the circumstances were understandable (imprisoned for 10 years from tweenage/teenager to adulthood is going to take a mental toll on someone). I think with Daenaera it might’ve even been worse because Baela was her foster mother and presented her to Aegon at the Maiden’s Day Ball…only for Baela’s husband to have an affair with her youngest daughter (35 years older than she was. I’ll reiterate that in the Targ tree, several adults are grandparents before they reached 35) while Baela was alive (don’t listen to the anti Daenas. Rennifer Longwaters says point blank Alyn “lost his heart to Elaena though he was married to another”). With Jaehaera, at least the relationship wasn’t so personal (although it’s implied that Aegon II was interested in Baela), though the age gap would give any mother the creeps.

I don’t think Jaehaera would push a Daemon/Rohanne match, because Rohanne is a foreigner without militarily powerful allies to call on quickly. In OTL, the match was Aegon’s idea for a future war with Dorne. Probably a Hightower cousin would be the match she’d recommend. If she lived, I think she would’ve blocked Aegon’s claim to fathering Daemon as Daena did, thus he’d have no right to dispose of Daemon’s hand. As for Aegor, I don’t think Jaehaera being alive would change what happened to the Bracken sisters, meaning he was banished from court until Aegon’s death, and couldn’t be a childhood friend of Daemon’s. Aegor is predisposed to hate the Targaryens (for good reason), so I don’t know if he’d be willing to support yet another Targaryen branch in taking the throne, unless they were demonstrably better than the current rulers (not that it be hard)

I find it a little puzzling that some people who imagine Queen Jaehaera AUs understand that the Hightowers would feel usurped by Viserys II and want their descendant Daemon “Greenfyre” on the throne, but at the same time other people adamantly refuse to believe that the Velaryons might’ve supported Daemon for a similar reason in OTL (especially since they went from #2 house under Aegon III to …? under Aegon IV and Daeron II, who notably stacked the court with their own yes men).

It’s all a lot to imagine, for sure.

[stylesparker]

Your navigation page says your requests are open, So if it’s okay with you may I send a request? If not that’s okay!

I was wondering if you could make an Imagine of Tasm Peter Parker?

Where the (preferably Female) reader has Nyctophobia? (Fear Of the dark) and Is always avoiding dark rooms, or going out at night, but one day there is a power outage and Peter finds out about her fear? And there is…a lot of fluff?

(Kinda dealing with slight anxiety in the dark so I could really use some comfort from right now….or any night really. Again if not that’s perfectly fine!)

of course, darling! thank you for requesting <3

WORD COUNT: 1k

Ever since you were little, you had always been scared of the dark. You don’t really know why, it was just one of those fears that’s just always been there, never had been actually developed from anything. So you made the habit of avoiding it whenever you could. You’ve always kept a small nightlight in your room for when you go to bed at night, and other small ones around your apartment just like it. You don’t even go out at night really, it’s not like there’s many people to hang out with nowadays, but if you do, there’s always a light around.

After being friends with Peter for so long, you don’t know how it took him so long to figure out about your fear. Not that you’d particularly enjoy the conversation about your childhood fear that followed you into adulthood, but it’s just strange.

But what’s even worse about that conversation is the reason it took place.

It was Friday night, both you and Peter huddled up in his bedroom just like every Friday having your usual sleepover. You dont like to call them sleepovers because it seems childish—you’re two grown adults (the ripe age of 21) who just like to hang out and spend the night at each other’s places, but Peter insists on calling them sleepovers since “that’s what they are.” Always says you can never be too old to have a sleepover with your bestie. You wouldn’t put it like that, but it’s funny when he says it.

“Hand over the goddamn blanket, Parker!” You huffed, one hand holding onto your large bowl of popcorn tightly while the other made grabby hands at the boy who stole the entire blanket and tore it to his own side.

“Settle down, settle down, I’ll get you another one,” he put his hands out like he’s settling a dog who’s crazy, reaching over to grab one of your own.

“Nooo, I want this one, it’s softer.”

“Well, it’s MY blanket, so I get it.”

“I’m the guest! I should have it!” you argued.

“Nooo, I bought it so I have rights-”

In the midst of your bickering, a clicking sound startled the both of you, making you quiet yourselves down. Not a split second later, darkness flooded the room and no light could be seen. The TV shut down, all the lights turned off, and nothing could even be seen outside. Not even Peter. Not one light.

It took you a minute to realize what was happening, struck with fear that you’re not going to find any source of light anytime soon. Suddenly you started to feel your heart beat faster, your palms grow sweaty, your breathing picking up, and it’s like you couldn’t control it when you tried thinking about slowing it. It didn’t take long for Peter to realize your state of being. The minute your heart picked up, he sensed it. He immediately grabbed your hand and held it tightly to his chest, not caring that you’re sweaty at all.

“Y/n, you’re alright, we’re fine. The powers just out.”

You don’t respond to him. Your eyes are closed and you try to block out everything. Every noise, everything you feel, but you don’t realize that’s not actually helping.

“Babe, talk to me, you’re gonna be fine…” Peter says a little more worriedly. He rifled through the bed with one arm to try and search for his phone. When he grabbed hold of it, he quickly tapped the screen and turned the flashlight on, pointing it in your direction. With the flash of light behind your eyelids, you peaked an eye open, but it doesn’t calm your breathing.

“Peter,” you whimpered.

“Hey, it’s alright, don’t be afraid. The power only went out, I’m sure it’ll be on in a few minutes,” he placed his phone between you on the bed and brought his hands up to gently rest them on either side of your face. His forehead leaned against yours, letting you calm down on your own and listen to his heartbeat.

“Do something,” you whispered.

“What do you mean?” He replied softly.

You shake your head, eyes closed, “Anything, Peter, just- just distract me.”

It took him a moment, but he knew what he wanted to do. He just didn’t know how you’d feel about it. Without much of another thought he leaned forward, pressing his lips gently but firmly on your own, catching you by surprise. Your eyes shot open, looking at the boy in front of you so close.

My best friend is kissing me right now. Damn, he’s good…

Even though it was so quick, you didn’t want to make it awkward, so you closed your eyes before he pulled away and leaned against you again.

“Sorry, I didn’t know-” his hands peeled away from your face and landed on top of his lap. Before he started to get into his head, you grabbed his hands and took them into your own.

“It’s alright. Definitely worked!” You chuckled. He smiled, letting out a small laugh.

“Hey, the lights on.”

The two of you glanced around the room, realizing the light was on for however long without either one noticing. There’s a small moment of silence before his voice filled the air.

“How long have you been scared of the dark?”

“Ughhh, Peter…” you groaned, your head falling and hitting his shoulder, which made him laugh at you.

“I’m not making fun, I swear! I just, I don’t know how I never knew.”

“I don’t know, I just, it just never came up?”

He gave you a cheeky smile, only something you’ve ever seen so cute on your best friends face.

“I think maybe, when you’re scared ya’ know, you should just come to me and I can lay with you until you fall asleep?”

It’s your turn to smile, more shyly on your part, “oh yeah?”

He nodded his head, brown curls bouncing slightly.

“Okay, I can run with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

[cursestothemoon]

Imagine sucking on a lollipop all day to tease Fred but you act like you don’t know what you’re doing and he eventually gets too worked up and ends up fucking you real hard. Maybe you also put on your old school uniform and tease him. Basically some light ddlg with daddy Freddie

JEALOUS POSSESSIVE SEX WITH FRED!!!!

It could be a headcannon or blurb- whatever you want- but can it be with a fem!reader please 💕

I combined these two requests :)

a/n: i jUST REALIZED I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO MAKE IT DDLG WITH DADDY FRED OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY. I’ll write a separate ddlg, daddy kink piece for you, i am so sorry ☹️

Cherry Lollipops and Pleated Skirts

F.W. X FEM!READER

17+ IF YOU ARE TAGGED AND DON’T WANT TO BE TAGGED IN SMUT PLEASE LET ME KNOW

warnings: NSFW, vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, spanking, slight exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation, slight praise, dom!Fred, sub!reader, UNEDITED

No one expected the show to be so busy on a random Friday, but it was busting at the seams. Since the doors were opened at eight o'clock this morning, people had been piling into the shop and stealing your boyfriend's attention along with his twins.

At first, you understood the shop was important and you'd rather business be booming than have their dreams fall apart... but six hours of Fred not even having the time to spare you glance has catalyzed a faint change of heart.

You need him.

The flat above the shop- where you live with Fred and George- was incredibly boring without the boys. You had half a mind to throw caution to the wind, Fred's rules be damned, and use your own hand to get yourself to cum.

Fred had been beyond cruel with his early morning teasing, both of you assuming it would be a light work day and he'd find time to sneak off so you two could go at. At this point you were sure Fred was so busy he forgot about the predicament he left you in, you couldn't blame him- you wanted to- but you couldn't so you decided it would be best to subtly remind him.

You pulled out your old Hogwarts skirt and white button up shirt, with the skirt barely fitting as an appropriate garment to wear out in public. Your hips, thighs, and ass had all filled out as you blossomed into mid adulthood much to your-and Fred’s- pleasant surprise. The dark grey pleated skirt went just below the curve of your ass and brushed the tops of your thighs. The shirt still fit roughly the same, you tucked it into the skirt and left the top few buttons open revealing the soft skin of your chest along with a dark purple love bite peaking out from just under the limp collar.

You made your way down to the shop, a skip in your step as you thought out a plan. The hard candy and lollipop section was just a few feet away from the stairs leading to the upstairs flat, the stairs you were descending, and they were exactly what you were looking for. Picking up a cherry lollipop- you had convinced the twins to bring in a few muggle sweets to the shop- you unwrapped it as you walked over to the till and delicately placed it in your mouth.

"Should I even ask?" George laughed as he took the seven sickles you held out to him.

You shrugged, "You really wanna know?"

He shuddered making you smirk, "You're right. Last I saw him he was by the pepper imps."

The butterflies of anticipation multiplied as you gave George a beaming smile before turning to walk toward the pepper imps.

"And I'd like to keep my shop up and running, so please no funny business in the store."

You shot him a wink over your shoulder before sauntering over to where Fred was. The pepper imps were towards the front of the store but still tucked away in a corner, and as you neared them you could see a crouched Fred looking through the shelves and writing down on his clip board. You took a minute to look him up and down, his hands holding the pen and board making the items look ridiculously toy like, and his bent knees crouching position immediately drew your eyes to the curve of his butt. Averting your eyes from his backside, your gaze followed the lines of his forearms. He had his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows and the writing caused his arm to flex every so often making you almost drop the cherry flavored sucker from your mouth.

Gently shaking your head and moving the lollipop from one side of your mouth to the other, you brought yourself back to reality and took slow steps to stand next to Fred. You pretended to browse through the shelves as he remained focused on his task.

Fred could sense someone standing next to him, and it took him a mere few seconds to realize it was you. He could be blind folded in a room full of people and he would be able to pick you out in a second from your perfume alone. It was his favorite smell, the way it mixed and mingled with your natural scent was intoxicating. His eyes fluttered shut as he took in your scent, before he turned his head assuming to meet your eyes- only it was your bare thigh that his nose was just about touching when he turned his head.

You watched as his eyes slowly travelled up the expanse of your leg, stopping for a moment when he reached the hem of your skirt, before continuing up until he met your eyes. They were big, bright, and teasingly innocent as your beautiful lips were wrapped around the top half of a big, round, cherry red lolly.

"Seems I've missed an imp." He smirked, extending his legs and raising to his full height.

"Maybe you should get back down there and count again." You suggested sweetly, pulling the lollipop out of your mouth with a pop.

Fred's eyes followed the sucker as you put it back into your mouth and started sucking on it, a faint hitch of his breath could be heard as you pushed it further back into your mouth. He looked around to see if anyone else was seeing the act you were putting on, luckily the corner seemed to be the only deserted spot in the packed shop.

"I'm busy, love, don't be a bad girl." His voice was low and soft as he spoke.

"But Freddie," You whined, drawing out his name before lifting yourself onto your tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "I need you."

Fred plucked the lollipop from between your thumb and forefinger before sticking it into his mouth with a smile.

"Good girls wait, you wanna be a good girl don't you?"

You nodded eagerly.

His eyes racked down your body one more time, his lips slightly parted and tongue prodding at the lollipop hanging out of his mouth as he smirked.

"Good, now go changed before someone sees what's mine."

It was clear this wasn't just a suggestion. He placed the lollipop back into your mouth and gently pushed your chin up to close your lips around the sucker before bending down to place a kiss on your forehead and nudge you in the direction you came from.

With a huff you walked back to the till with slumped shoulders and a sour impression making George giggle at your expression.

"Has he rejected your womanly charm and seduction?" The younger twin joked, earning himself a shove to the shoulder as you joined him behind the till.

You kept George company as he helped customers check out, your lollipop helping keep you occupied as time dragged on. Your elbows rested on the counter, your body bent over the surface while you watched the people in the shop.

Unbeknownst to you, Fred couldn't seem to get his eyes off of your form. The way you were resting against the counter had the hem of your skirt kissing the underside of your ass and he was sure if he could stand behind you he'd see your underwear peaking out from under the garment. The thought of throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you up to the flat was a tempting one, but he had enough willpower- or so he hoped- to resist the urge.

His willpower seems to be running thin, though, when he caught sight of some short bloke eyeing you up. The man wasn’t someone Fred was familiar with, and the way he was practically eye fucking you while you joked with George at the counter didn’t have Fred begging to get to know him. 

The guy continued to openly ogle at you, making Fred start to lose his temper as he restocked the edible death marks. He couldn’t tell if you had noticed or not, but you continued to swirl your tongue around that damned lollipop that not only made his pants far too tight but was probably affecting the man whore in aisle three the same way. 

With one final flick of your tongue against the sucker, Fred noticed the man start to make his way over to you, a sleazy smirk stretched across his lips. He tossed the rest of the edible dark marks onto the table with no regards to organization and took long strides to get to your side. 

You were mid conversation with George about the new girl he was seeing when you felt Fred wrap a firm, calloused hand around your wrist and tug you into his chest. 

“Everything al-” Fred cut you off with a large hand spread over your jaw, forcing your head to angle up, and pulling you into a heated kiss after plucking the lollipop from your lips. 

He held you to his chest as your body practically went limp in his arms, anything to just keep your lips locked with his. Fred kept his hand on your neck, moving it just slightly back to keep your head tilted back so he could deepen the kiss while his hand around your waist pulled your hips as close to his as possible- also trying not to get the sticky sweet sucker stuck on your skirt. 

The kiss left you breathless, your chest heaving as his lips moved to the underside of your jaw with heavy kisses. You almost forgot where you were with the way Fred was firmly holding your jaw and moving it himself so he could better access to the skin. Unfortunately, it was George who brought you back to reality making a soft blush paint your cheeks. Fred hung his head, nose prodding at your neck as he smirked before pulling away and standing straight. He popped your sucker into his mouth, a clinking against his teeth sounded as his tongue moved the sugary sweet hard-candy around in his mouth. His eyes were creased into a mocking squint as he stared down the now incredibly uncomfortable looking man. 

Fred didn’t wait for him to walk away, instead focusing his attention back on you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, nudging you in the direction of the stairs that led upstairs to the flat. 

“Oi! Where are you going?” George shouted just as you let out a loud giggle, Fred had smacked the underside of your butt as you climbed up the steps ahead of him. 

Fred turned to look at his brother, eye dropping into a wink, “I’m taking my lunch break.”

You giggled all the way through the flat and into your shared bedroom, Fred walking next to you with long strides and an arm wrapped around your shoulders, his hand holding the column of your neck. 

Fred closed the door to your bedroom before turning to you, he gave you an appraising look as he toyed with the lollipop still in his mouth. 

“You think this is cute?” 

His tone made your eyes shift and bottom lip jut, you were in trouble. 

“Walking into the shop dressed like a fucking whore...You just want attention, huh?”

“I wasn’t even paying attention to him! I was just waiting for you like you told me.”

Fred stopped for a moment, “...I never mentioned that bloke looking at you.”

Your eyes went wide realizing you gave away more than you should of.

“On your fucking knees.”

In record time your knees hit the hardwood floor, slowly crawling over to Fred. Your eyes were trained on the lollipop moving around his mouth and you think you understood just how agonizing it must’ve been for Fred all day to watch you sucking on it.

Upon reaching his legs, you worked quickly to unbutton his trousers and pull them down along with his boxers. You wrapped a hand around his semi hard cock, the weight of him in your hands made arousal start to pool in your panties. Your tongue replaced your hand, licking a broad stripe up from the base of his cock to the tip before placing a kiss on the spongy head while making eye contact with Fred through your lashes. The act made him shudder, his hand moving to grab the side of your head and fingers carding through your hair. Taking him into your mouth, you could feel each ridge and vein with your tongue making you moan around his shaft. 

“Bunny’s mouth was made for my cock, yeah?” Fred asked with a grunt as you slowly started to bob your head. 

You nodded as best you could but focused back on hollowing your cheeks and taking him to the back of your throat. His head hit the back of your throat making you let out a small gag before adjusting to breathing through your nose. Once adjusted you started to bob your head faster, your hands gripping his thighs hard enough to leave marks. 

Fred groaned around the lollipop still in his mouth- though now significantly smaller- his hips starting to thrust in sync with your mouth moving up and down his shaft. His breathe hitched when your hand started to massage his balls, tugging and rolling to get him to his release. 

The louder he got the closer you knew he was, so you started to suck harder and move faster. His fist closed around a makeshift ponytail in his palm, using it to tug you off of his cock. Your mouth made a pop sound as you were pulled off his prick, and you let out a whine at the loss of his taste. 

“Gonna cum in your- no...in my pussy.” Fred smirked, bringing you to stand on your feet and pulling your head back so you were forced to look up at him. 

He brought up his other hand to grasp the thin, white, stick of the sucker hanging from his lips and pulled the lollipop from his mouth. He used the red sugary bead that was left on the stick to gesture up and down your body as he spoke.

“Clothes off...save for the skirt.” He demanded, pointing at the pleated grey skirt with the lollipop. 

You were quick to do as you were told, shirt dropping to the floor along with your bra and panties all while Fred watched with dark eyes and an aura of possessiveness. 

Silently, Fred pointed the white stick toward the bed- the lollipop finally had reached its end- never taking his eyes off of your now nearly naked form. You practically skipped over to the bed, climbing up onto it slowly as to make sure Fred got a good glimpse of your bare cunt under your skirt. It was clear that you had succeeded when he let out low, barely audible, groan. 

Before you could real get a grip on what was happening, Fred had his fingers running up your slick folds, your skirt flipped up, drawing out a gasp from you. Moans fluttered past your parted lips as Fred started to rub small, tight circles on your aching clit. With the little white stick abandoned on the nightstand, his other hand was free to run up the inside of your thigh before his fingers moved to tease your entrance causing you to clench desperately around nothing. 

Fred gave you little time to adjust as he slipped his fingers into your entrance, thrusting in his middle and ring fingers roughly while his other hand still worked to stimulate your clit. Transitioning from tight circles to a flat hand rubbing back and forth harshly with more pressure had your back arching and eyes screwing shut. Fred continued to move his digits in a wave with each thrust, the pads of his fingers massaging the spongey area inside your pussy that had your toes curling. 

“F-Fuck, Freddie-” You gasped, hand gripping onto his wrist not knowing whether or not to pull his hand closer to your clit or push it away. 

Fred leaned over your body, his mouth attaching to any skin he could reach to roughly bite and suck before he pulled away to huskily whisper into your ear, “Louder. Say it louder.” 

You were more than willing to abide, not having the will power to try and keep yourself quiet either way. Fred’s fingers continued to thrust into your cunt as your orgasm hit you, a vulgar squelching coming from the vigorous action that had your hips twitching and lifting off of the bed. His large hand came down onto your abdomen, pushing you back onto the bed as you rode through your climax. 

“That’s it. Made a mess all over your pretty little skirt.” Fred tutted, removing his hands from your body to start taking the rest of his clothes off. 

“M’ sorry.” You muttered quietly.

Fred shook his head before going you a teasing smile, “It’s alright, kitten, you’re forgiven this time.”

Your chest heaved as you watched Fred undress which was always a breathtaking sight. His cock was already painfully hard, the tip red and leaking precum making your over sensitive cunt ache. 

“On your knees, hands holding the headboard.” Fred instructed, smacking your thigh gently to get you to move quicker. 

With shaky knees you crawled over to the headboard and gripped the wooden edge, making sure to wiggle your butt in Fred’s direction as you did so. The bed dipped with Fred’s weight as he climbed up and positioned himself behind you, his right hand trailing up and down the line of your spine before grabbing a handful of your ass with a grip sure to leave a few faint bruises. 

Fred lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing into your tight walls. The way your pussy gripped him had his eyes rolling back and jaw going slack, it was a feeling he’d never get tired of no matter how many times he felt it. Adding the breathy moans and whimpers that left your mouth into the mix and he could barely keep himself from fucking into you roughly. 

You bit your lip at the slight discomfort that came with the stretch of Fred bottoming out, the fronts of his thighs flush against the backsides of your own as you both took a moment to adjust. You let out a choked gasp as Fred pulled almost completely out of your pulsing cunt, his prick slick with your juices. He had his hands on your hips, using this as an opportunity to pull you back to meet his thrusts. His pace quickly sped up, soon the sound of smacking skin, loud groans, and cried out moans filled the room as Fred fucked you hard. 

“Tell them who makes you feel good. Want the whole fucking shop to hear you.” Fred growled from behind you. 

And who were you to disobey him?

“Harder, F-Freddie. Fuck-”

Both of you were sure George could hear not only the animalistic growls and pornographic moans but also the bed frame ramming into the wall and the sound of skin smacking almost painfully.

Fred reach around to start massaging your clit, making you almost drop your hands from the headboard as your hips twitched toward him. 

“Whose cunt is this, huh? Whose fucking cunt?” 

Your vision was blurring and words slipping your mind as he continued to pound into you and stimulate your clit. 

“Say it.” 

“Yours-” You sobbed, second orgasm approaching. “All yours, Freddie.”

Fred smacked your clit making you jolt, “That’s fucking right.”

Your body started to shake as you started to release around Fred, the intense pulsing of your cunt had Fred spilling his load into with a stutter of his hips. He held you close, cock completely sheathed inside of your weeping pussy as you both came. 

Coming down from your highs, Fred pulled out of you and promptly left to grab a washcloth to clean you up. You collapsed onto the bed, skin balmy and limbs shaky as you waited for Fred to come back. When he did, reworked quickly to clean you up and dispose of the wash cloth before climbing back into the bed where you had found yourself. He got comfortable on his side before pulling you into his chest and having your limbs entangle with his own. You weren't sure where you ended and Fred started, just how you two liked it. 

Fred pressed a soft kiss to your forehead while his hand delicately run up and down your back and curve of your waist. 

“You should get back to the shop.” You muttered quietly, not really wanting to let him go. 

Fred hummed before moving his hand to cradle the back of your head and nuzzle you further into his neck and chest.

“I think Georgie will be just fine.”

tags:

@siriusement

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@theorangedrummer

@erinblack003

@famdomhideout

@an2402lths

@escapingrealitybyreading

@readyg0erge

@maybesandohnos

@therealhouseelvesofhogwarts

[moxfirefly]

Good afternoon, this has been in the works for a while now and I finally got around to finishing it and being pretty content of it (this is gonna go up on AO3 soon along with the others that aren’t request) but I wanted to post it here first. Enjoy!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

“Wish you were here right now

All of the things I'd do”

Gaming was always an escape.

From childhood to adulthood. There was some gaming equipment in your hands, controls, handhelds, keyboards and so on. There was just something calming about entering a fantasy world and immersing yourself in scenery and stories that made you stray from bad days and long nights.

For Donatello it was the same.

On one of his many supply scavenges Splinter had found a dumpster near a toy store that was going out of business. It was a memorable haul for them. What they expected to be routine things mixed with some type of groceries had turned into literal Christmas in July. Stuffed animals, board games, action figures and even a few gaming consoles with some cartridges and cd’s. Noticeably they were considered damaged or improperly manufactured, but they didn’t care and for Donnie he had spent a good week and a half fixing up the Nintendo and Play Station 2 consoles back into working conditions.

That alone had been plenty for him but nevertheless Mikey being so excited about playing wanted him to join him. They had played for hours and each disc or cartridge they tried out held a new story, a new set of controls to learn, new visuals and such. He was immediately hooked.

When he had gotten the first parts to start building a PC from scratch he knew there would be another world of possibilities for games.

Now gaming is a leisure for Donnie. Something he does for enjoyment and an escape when his projects become too much. The world of online gaming allowed him to also explore the possibilities of chatting with others though, the humans they were not allowed to see or speak to (with the exception of their Hogosha) but needless to say it wasn’t like Donnie broadcasted his identity and whereabouts. More so these people only came to game and speak game.

Donnie absolutely does detest the unnecessary sexism that gaming brings. Many a time he had read on chats or heard on his head set such derogatory comments thrown at female players. Never the one to stand such misogynistic behavior (he was raised better and had heard enough horror stories from April) he always shot that shit down quickly. Given his status as being far above his gaming peers he had developed respect and none of them ever shot back at him.

That’s how he runs into you.

On the opposing team nonetheless.

Once your female voice ran through the ears of the group he had been stuck in, the comments began to rain down. Some colorful, some lazy and some downright disgusting. Donnie had had enough and with some of his more illegal methods, had managed to push out the players in his party and send the audio recording to the email of the developers.

On exceptionally petty days he did far worse.

You had been stunned, wondering why the gang of immature boys had suddenly disappeared. Only one of them remained with the gamer tag specifying ‘Don_DuzMachines’ you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

You had asked if the sudden disappearance had been a weird glitch and if Don (as you assumed you should call him) had anything to do about it.

“Let’s just say I’ve got my ways” His soft voice rang through your headset.

“Well it’s hardly the first time I’ve had a gang of prepubescent boys tell me to suck their dicks” You started to move away in the map but stopped abruptly.

“Hey do you wanna play something else?” You asked tentatively. “Figured the least I can do is thank you” Donnie sat back pensively, well there was no harm in that now was there?

And so it started innocently.

Co-op games even the occasional match against one another. Each game you two always spoke through your headsets. Mostly banter about strategy or directions for who to do what or the occasional friendly jabs. You hadn’t revealed much that wasn’t the nickname you used as your gamer tag, and well Don had basically done the same.

That is until you decide to poke a little into his life. “You go to college?” You had asked, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you both partook in a raid. Donnie hadn’t expected such a question and he didn’t necessarily want to divulge much, he opted for a more ambiguous response. “I do my own studying, sort of like home schooling if you will?” Well he wasn’t wrong, Splinter had been both father and teacher to them, Donnie had just excelled more quickly and soon enough he was teaching his brothers on the academic side.

“You broke too, huh? Trust me it’s not worth the insane debt you’ll develop in six years that’ll take forty years to pay off” You chuckled with a hint of bitterness, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh and snort.

“That’s cute” You said sincerely. Donnie smiled, heat creeping up his neck.

How innocent things had been at the start.

For six months the two of you divulged little to no information. You never asked to video chat and Donnie never asked for your socials. It had just been a mutual agreement to keep the mystery that just wasn’t verbalized. Maybe it was for the better, because surely what had began as a gaming buddies situation had escalated to, well Donnie couldn’t really explain.

The first instance the two of you had been stuck on a map solving intricate puzzles. It was one of the more relaxed games the two of your partook in together when you didn’t want to deal with other players in a lobby.

“Dating apps are a nightmare, they’re only worth it for getting dumb funny stories” You had been playing but also checking some of the matches you’ve gotten on a site. Donnie swallowed, why did that settle so oddly in his stomach?

“Well any funny ones you’d like to share?” Don asked curiously hoping he wasn’t over stepping any boundaries. “One guy wanted me to cover my feet in marmalade, I really almost hit fuck it and did it” You couldn’t help but smile when Don choked, coughed and bursted out laughing.

“What kink is that even related to? I mean I know people enjoy feet but marmalade?” He was bewildered. “Come on Don don’t kink shame the poor guy, who are you to police his eclectic culinary desires?” Now the two of you couldn’t help but burst into another fit of laughter. Both your avatars were idle standing, the game somewhat abandoned in favor for the conversation.

“Hey I’m not kink shaming, we all have our weird kinks” Donnie smiled sitting back on his swivel chair. You clicked out of the dating site, chin resting on your hand. “Are we finally having this conversation? Cause I love this shit, it’s my bread and butter” You sat back in your gaming chair, tucking your knees.

Donnie felt so shy but the barrier of mistery the two of you had built urged him on. He was curious, like stupid curious what you looked like and while he had everything to figure out exactly where you were, it wasn’t morally correct for him. So why not just indulge in the conversation?

“Well it’s not feet, sorry to disappoint” He heard you laugh, an infectious sound he had grown to enjoy so much. “Feet are so passé anyways, what about bondage?” You spun slowly in your chair, the sounds of Don adjusting and clicking on the keyboard ringing in your ears.

“Bondage is a go, especially sensory deprivation” He was checking some documents April had forwarded to him in regards to a case they were dealing with, but he could multitask. You made an approving noise, nodding while taking a sip of your drink. “Into that D/s stuff?” You asked wanting to see what else he might like.

“Well yeah, but I do enjoy more um... Fem Dom stuff” He finished up the email he wrote out for April and hit send. “A man with taste, not something we get often” You chuckled but decided to add. “I wouldn’t mind having a guy submit to me” You bit the inside of your cheek a little shy suddenly.

Something about that statement made heat spread south for Donnie. The concept of being dominated? By a woman? He peaked a look behind him, pushing one side of his headset down to hear what his brothers might be up to but he heard only music and chatting voices.

“What’s your favorite thing?” He inquired almost too softly.

“Erotic ASMR” There was no trace of embarrassment in your voice and that somehow made Donnie hot.

“Maybe we frequent the same sites for that” Don boldly threw out. You made an approving face before sitting forward and typing on your keyboard. A beat or two later Donnie saw an email notification from you on one of his many burner emails. He opened it finding links to audios from various sites all catered to erotic audios. Donnie whistled, this was a gold mine and true to his predictions you did indeed have some of his favorite sites to peruse.

“It’s not just male audios by the way, there’s women too” You sat back once again, nervously playing with your hair. “Thanks... Well I do like hearing both” Donnie confessed, voice avoiding a stutter.

You grinned. Oh he was even more fun that you could’ve expected.

Curiously enough that had been the tamest experience into yours and Donnie’s sex talks. Because it hadn’t really stopped at that, they progressively escalated little by little. Fave kinks had turned to fave sites, fave sites had turned into fave videos. Donnie never pictured he’d share his hidden folder with a stranger no less.

You nor Donnie could really say how the two of you had ended up one late night, with yet another abandoned game, talking about weird but satisfying cyber sex experiences. Some of your stories had been on the more comical side but a few had riled Donnie up to the point that he couldn’t ignore it. There was a shift in your voice as well, an allure that enticed him.

“Can I be honest?” You licked your suddenly dry lips. Donnie tensed momentarily, not sure what to expect. “Of course, please” You squeezed your thighs together, ‘please’ shouldn’t sound so good coming out of his mouth. You trace lazy circles on your thighs, something pushed you. “I’m kinda turned on by this...by talking to you about all this stuff” Maybe this was overstepping it, surely there was nothing wrong between two adult friends discussing such matters.

There was no need to tell Don that you had yearned to put a face to the name. But his hesitance spoke of insecurities and you could understand that.

“I am too...” Donnie looked up at what he called a ceiling in his home, the darkness of the sewer system and concrete. He’d never have a chance with you, it was a deeply rooted desire for intimacy and if virtually he could obtain it then so be it.

For all your boldness you felt a wave of bashfulness hit, crashed around your self confidence. Then Donnie steps up and you feel your toes curl in excitement. “Do you want to have a better experience?” Donnie runs both hands down his face, who was he to provide better experiences, he’d never even physically had a partner. The slow sigh that escapes your throat is comforting static in his headset. “Yeah, yeah I really do actually” You feel a smile etch itself on your lips.

“You can call me Donnie” It’s the closest to his name, and truthfully he really wants to hear you say it.

“Y/N,” You say to which Donnie makes an approving noise, he finds your name to be pretty. He rolls it in his mouth, testing the syllables, he can envision moaning it, well he wants to moan it if he can be completely honest. He wants to put a face to that name but he quickly pushes the thought out. There’s a pregnant pause where neither of you engage or make the first attempt. Not wanting to let this mood flee, Donnie swallows and closes his eyes. The hum of the abandoned game grounding him.

“Say my name again” It’s not a forceful demand, all the contrary he wants to hear the pitch in your voice when you say it, he wants to picture how each tone would variate depending on what he would do or say. “Donnie...” You smile to yourself when you say it, a hint of desire nestled in it and Don notices that and wants more of it.

There’s a lengthy sigh from your behalf, hands wandering up your thighs towards your chest. “I’d like to be there right now, would like to say it against your lips” Your bold confessions makes Donnie’s pulse quicken. He runs a ghosting touch up his plastron, the vision of a delicate hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member. Donnie grips himself through his shorts a soft groan escaping his parted lips.

“Want you to kiss me” He swallows dryly, the approving noise you make pushing him forward. “Feel your lips all over, feel your mouth around me...” He lifts his hips, hand cupping himself and the small hitch in your breath is a sound he wants permanently recorded in his brain.

“God are you big? I bet you are” You kneed your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching the sensitive nubs until they’re perked. Donnie smirks to himself, freeing his aching member and looking down at himself. Mutant genes aside he feels somewhat shamefully proud of his cock, he wonders if you would like it... deeply buried within you. “Yeah I am, I think you can take it something tells me” You catch that teasing tone and the urge to swallow him whole and make him see stars is too much.

Your hand finds its way into your underwear, the warm wetness making you moan as you tease your middle finger between the lips to find your sensitive nub there. You bite back another lengthy moan but recover enough to breathlessly say, “oh fuck, Donnie” and that very sound makes him shiver. Never did he think he’d hear something so temptingly good, said with such sincerity. God the things he would do to smell your arousal right now, to taste the wetness. “Push two fingers in slowly” Donnie almost pleas, his voice shakey, hand pumping his cock at a steady pace. You do as he wishes, your gutted moan making more precum gather at the tip of his member.

“God-shit- you sound so good, wish you were riding my big dick right now” He wants to chastise himself for saying something like that, but he can’t deny that statement shakes something in you. He can hear it, the sound of your fingers mixed with a continuously rising string of moans. “Ohmygod” Words tumble out strewn together by your pleasure. “Donnie please, please fuck me harder” That alone makes him sit up and push forwards, one hand on his desk as the other works himself up in upward twisting strokes.

Donnie can’t erase the idea of slamming into you right here on his desk, maybe bent over, maybe you’ll let him cum on your face...

He pushes the idea away, he can’t envision your face now, not right now, not when your moans have you sounding this deliciously in need. You’re plunging two fingers into your core as your free hand runs firm circles around your clit. “Christ Donnie you sound so good baby” You moan, perspiration covering your body and Donnie can only groan his approval.

There’s a few minutes where it’s just the two of you lost in your own pleasure together. The constant chants of ‘fuck’ and ‘god’ and ‘yes’ mixed between the two of you. “Say it... again” Donnie groans out, hand quickening, briefly gathering some saliva and letting it fall on his hard member for better traction. “Don-oh, Donnie cum in me!” You’re so far gone, not caring what comes out of your mouth. The wet sounds in your head set and a vibration you figured could be static mixed with his groans was all you heard.

Donnie’s hips twitch, feels that request swim inside of his brain and the image of burying himself as deeply as you could take is all he needs. Just as your moans rise in crescendo he feels the first twitch and relief of his orgasm overtake him. He’s never felt it hit him this hard it knocks the wind out of him, each rope shooting out onto his hand and floor. In his minds eye though, it’s your suffocating heat taking it, milking him until he’s a shivering mess. It plays perfectly like a movie, he swears he can even feel your lips at his neck and arms holding him tight.

Your sounds are enough to keep him stroking, the way your voice pitched up with the sound of his name entwined, forever recorded in his brain. Your entire body tensed to the point of uncomfortable but it was impossible to stop abruptly when he sounded so lost in you. Your leg shakes and stiffens and it takes every inch of control to not become liquid and slip away into comforting bliss.

Eventually the sounds of heavy breathing slowly but surely settling are the only things the two of you can hear in your ears. There’s a mess, for you and for him. The understanding of things transpired crossing each of you two’s brains. Should you speak first? Should he?

“Um, you with me?” You settle, skin sweaty and mouth dry. There’s movement on the other line, a quiet cuss here and there and you smile. “Yeah, sorry just... made a mess” His voice has that sheepish tone and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Great thing about being a girl, we can conceal the evidence better” You stretch your aching legs enjoying each joint pop. “The female anatomy never seizes to amaze me, trust me” Donnie leans back in his chair, napkin cleaning any other soiled spot.

The silence was somewhat comfortable, the buzzing of good chemicals slowly settling.

“Was this okay?” He asked, hesitant tone in your ears.

“More than okay if you ask me” You kept it light not wanting him to feel odd or even ashamed.

You ventured on slowly, forming the question in your brain and bouncing it back and forward with a swallow. “If, and I mean if you want to, we can maybe do this from time to time” You worried a thumbnail between your teeth. Donnie’s gaze watching the idle screen of the abandoned game, he thought hard but briefly.

“I... yeah I would” He smiles to himself, even if the nagging thought that this might not last clutches the back of his mind. Why ruin a good thing? This was good more than good and you suggested to continue.

He doesn’t want to preoccupy his brain with scenarios, or if that dreaded ‘let’s meet’ sentence decides to cross your lips. If this is the inch of intimacy he gets to have and it’s with you, who he has grown so fond of, then he’s selfishly taking that inch and guarding it with his life.

Mutely you both remain on the line, no words spoken from the agreement, just simply enjoying that the two of you were present.

Even if not physically.