#some BODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD WAS GONNA fuck me in the ass

[a-preferable-alternative]

Need someone to bash my head against the wall

[tojipie]

˚ ✧ ────────

you’re 5 minutes into your first round and to be quite honest, you’ve never been more sure that fushiguro toji and his god given ability to dirty talk is something you’ll take to your grave.

you’d been with other guys before, ones with a nasty habit of running their mouths during sex. ones that’d grab you by the neck and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how tight you were, how they couldn’t wait to fuck you again.

toji is entirely different. nothing, and i truly mean nothing, compares to that old man when it comes to mouthing off in the bedroom. he’s formulating sentences you never thought possible, spewing stuff that would have you clutching your pearls and running for the hills any other given day.

you’re holding onto your composure by your teeth hearing him say the things he does, thighs and arms burning as you rock back and forth on his dick.

“take what you need pretty. uh huh, keep fucking me,” he chuckles, winding a fist into your hair to pull you back onto his cock when he notices you trying to crawl away.

you honestly don’t think you can take it anymore. if the way your guts were currently being pummeled into oblivion wasn’t enough, the way he’s talking to you right now has you in crisis.

it’s all too good, suspiciously good, and embarrassingly enough, you think you might be nearing your edge only 7 minutes after making it to his bed. your arms fail you as you try to crawl up the bed and away from the too-good feeling currently frying every wire in your brain.

“awww, you runnin’ from me?,” he laughs, letting your hair go to cage you in from behind, two solid arms settling on either side of your head.

your words escape you each time you muster up a response, eyes rolling back and he takes over again, shoving you face down and absolutely destroying that special spot tucked away inside of you. toji’s like a furnace, cooking you alive with the heat the radiates add his abs and chest.

“told ya you couldn’t handle it,” he teases, watching you writhe under him. “not with this dick.”

you feel something wet—a tongue you realize— traveling up the base of your spine and tapering off at your neck before solid teeth clamp down on the skin there.

okay, wow. fuck. you realize he’d lapped up the moisture settling in the dip of your back, licking the sweat from your skin like an animal.

“gonna let me taste every part of you? hmm?” he says in that too sweet voice you only hear when he’s teasing. he lets go of your neck with a pop to admire the bruise his bite leaves in its wake, sucking another one right under it for good measure.

you fall over the edge with no warning, so overwhelmed with pleasure that your mind and body continue to work separately.

the sound toji makes is beautiful. low, long, and guttural. radiating from the deepest part of his chest like a fan, and for a minute, you think he might be feeling the same overwhelming pleasure you are.

“ughh-hah don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers over and over, massaging the fat of your ass while your body flutters around him. you feel something viscous leak out of you, dripping down the seam of your heat and onto the sheets.

“when the fuck did you have time to cum?,” you finally muster. you don’t think you’d be able to move if your life depended on it, limbs sinking into the mattress like tubes of jelly. you really can’t move once you feel 200 pounds of laughing muscle settle on top of you, keeping you grounded like a paperweight on a measly little envelope.

“what, y’ quitting on all of this?” he laughs, gesturing up and down himself so you know just how irresistible he thinks he is. the worst part is that he’s right, just based off of how hard he’d rocked your world in the last 10 or so minutes.

you feel invigorated by some stroke of a miracle, pressing back on his still-leaking dick as a silent invitation.

“what, more? y’need more of me you little minx?” he laughs, grrriiiinding his tip right up against that fleeting spot you would have never been able to get to on your own.

and just like that he’s back to fucking you, pulling you into him like a toy at that same perfect pace.

“bite me hard if y’ want me to stop, you hear me?” he commands, shoving your face back into the pillows once he sees you nod.

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

Can i manifest....?

Yessss fucking yesss! You're limitless! Don't you understand that there's no limitation to what you can manifest?? Your imagination is the creation of it all! There's many possibilities! Million and infinite of them! You can manifest having many mansion around the World owned by you, being Richer than Elon musk, having a Magic portal in your room that can lead you anywhere you want, having many sps, dating your celebrity crush, dating a model, having the exact same body as your Pinterest pin, manifesting a fictional character to your world, getting that perfect grade, working your dream job, becoming millionaire overnight and many more, DON'T NOT LIMIT YOURSELF just because some "people" told you that it's impossible, it's their beliefs and Mindset, let's them be, just so you know that you're a pure consciousness, you choose whatever reality you want to experience, you're the creator of your reality, you make the rules! You decide how to manifest and you decide when the 3d gonna conform!

This reality is bend to your every will to control it! It is your story and you can write it! It is your game and you can programme it! You can make any rules to this reality! Anything you want!

You can even change the thought of anyone, the behavior of anyone! Making everyone to treat you like a princess or a queen, getting things for free cause you're that pretty (pretty privilege <3), and even having your SP obsessed with you and kissing the ground you walk on, making your parents lenient, buying you anything you want cause they love you.

You can even decide that affirming once will get you your desires, you can decide that the 3d Always reflect your 4d instantly, you can decide that you Always manifest within 24 hours or less.

This reality will show you what you assumed, this reality is just mirroring your imagination, it is just a dead reality without imagination there's nothing.

The 3d and 4d are not seperated, you made that assumption, they work in harmony.

The Law is Always working either you like it or not, it is reflecting the bad, the good and the indifferent.

So if i ever get an Ask that says "can i manifest..?" I'll smack your ass so hard that you'll understand the Loa really well and apply it!💥😤

Check before sending me an Ask.

Xoxo, Eli

[writingthroughmyass]

Service Animal (Part one)

My mans Logan Howlett X Reader (afab)

Part two here

WARNING: This is soooo self insert it's not even funny. I get weird migraines that present like absent seizures and thought it would be nice to get a warning beforehand by my favourite babygirl Logan (like my own personal service animal). This is gonna be in three parts, it's mostly finished and ends in smooshing so be ready for that ;)

UPDATE: turns out my migraines are actually mini strokes :)

The after effects of using your power was kicking your ass.

In a daze, you made it to your private room and went straight to your bathroom. You felt the nausea rising up in your throat and quickly opened the toilet lid to throw up. 

The multiple alternate realities of what could have happened tonight flashed before your eyes. Ororo, Jean, Scott, Logan, all collapsed on the floor, dead. Their screams played in a relentless loop in your head; you were dissociating badly. Your surroundings melted away until there was nothing but the countless ways they could have died if you hadn't bent reality to avoid it. 

Always. It's always like this. 

Gradually, you begin to return to your body, only to realise there was someone in the room with you, holding your hair back. 

Terrified, your body snapped up from its kneeling position to face the intruder. 

“Woah, hey, it's just me. Calm down.”

“L-Logan?” you slurred, suddenly feeling self conscious of the smell of your breath. 

“I knocked and called out but you didn't answer. So I came in to check on you.” 

You eyed him, feeling suspicious of how out of character this was for him. 

“Why are you looking at me like I'm lying? I'm not totally heartless,” he said defensively.

“Why'd you come in the first place to see me though? I thought you were pissed with me,” you grumble.

When you'd overdone it with your powers, Logan threw a hissy fit and yelled at you for going too far. While you knew it was out of care, it still rankled you that he was acting as if you were a child. You knew what you were doing. 

“I… just had a bad feeling,” he said quietly. “Y'know how I've got my heightened senses. I could tell something was off with you.”

“I'm fine. Just need to rest. This is normal for me.”

You turned around to the bathroom sink and grabbed your toothbrush. You gave your teeth and tongue a quick clean, wanting to just wash all the blood off your body so you could sleep. 

It felt like you had a raging hangover from drinking Everclear all night. 

When you turned from the sink you noticed Logan was still there. 

“Uh… need something? I wanna get ready for bed and pass out.”

“Yeah, I need to know you're okay,” he says.

“I told you, I'm fine. I'm going to shower so please leave.” 

Your patience was wearing thin. But you were also aware that some of it was nervousness coming out as aggression. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, although his attitude left much to be desired. His behaviour tonight was quite frankly really sweet and it was psyching you out. You were already in the midst of losing touch with reality and his actions were so contradictory to his usual self that it was causing you a psychotic break. 

“You're not listening to me,” he ground out, losing some of his own patience. “I'm telling you that something is wrong with you.” 

You stared silently at him, mouth slightly hanging open. 

“Okay, that came out the wrong way.” He was ruffling his hair in agitation. Cute. “What I'm saying is- I'm… ah…”

“Please, Logan, I just want a shower so I can go to bed…”

“Look, I'll just wait in your room and I'll leave once you're in bed safe, ‘kay,” he says, turning to the door and walking out, shutting it behind himself. 

Fuck. 

You just wanted to be alone so you could have a good cry. You were incredibly confused about what in the world was going on but now you were really getting scared. And Logan's words were not helping. 

What if he's right and this time your connection with reality has been completely severed? But what else were you supposed to do? Let them all die? Even with your special training with Charles, your power was so unruly and chaotic that it was terrifying. You had to be careful or there would be no way back. 

You got undressed and turned on the shower, stepping inside. It was only once you were under the hot stream of water that you realised you'd left your pyjamas in your bedroom. You groaned aloud. Fuck, now you'd have to walk in front of Logan in nothing but a towel. Why the fuck was he here? You wished he'd just leave. 

You watched the dried blood wash away from your skin, turning the floor of your shower a bright red. 

You felt your stomach drop and your head turned fuzzy. The sound of your shower disappeared. The safety of your surroundings melted away. 

Scott, his eyes gouged out from his head. Ororo’s limbs crumpled every which way, her eyes clouded over not because of her powers but because she was lifeless. Jean, her neck holding on to her body by a thread, her cranium blasted open and her brain dripping down her face. 

Logan, on the ground, ripped to shreds, his Adamantium bones showing through his torn flesh. And the wounds weren't healing. 

It was always like this. As if you were being punished for playing god. It was as if all the horrible realities you prevented from happening still lived on but solely in your mind, driving you insane. It left scars of trauma on your psyche, Charles had told you. So you had to be careful in how you used your powers or you may become completely untethered from reality. A fate worse than death. 

Vaguely, you could hear yourself mumbling and gasping and swallowing loudly, trying to find some kind of equilibrium in the mess of your mind. 

You were trying desperately to connect back with your body but at the same time you didn't want to because it only meant having to fight this same battle over and over again. 

Seeing your friends die before your very eyes in hundreds of thousands of different ways, experiencing each traumatic story to its conclusion. Only to have it all unravel into a reality where none of it happened, but the whiplash makes you doubt this reality too. It's always too good to be true. You feel it in your bones that you don't deserve this. That the way you twist reality is wrong and one day it'll catch up to you in the worst possible way. 

You feel water running down your face and remember that you're in the shower. You try to ground yourself and come back to your body. You hear the water splashing, feel the ground beneath your feet, the solid embrace around you. 

You try to move but you can't. Finally, you snap fully to your body. Your mind is groggy, feeling like you'd been hit by a truck. But there's the unmistakable warmth surrounding you, dense and as unyielding as brick. 

Your face is roughly yanked upwards and you open your eyes.

“Fuck, finally! Are you alright?” 

You stare blearily, mouth open and dry from the adrenaline that had been pumping through your body just moments ago.

Bright hazel eyes. Huh. So pretty. You'd never noticed. 

You realise you're not supporting your own weight. You're finally aware that Logan has you in an embrace, holding your body up, one hand around your waist and the other on your jaw as he looks into your face. The water on your face isn't from the shower, you realise. It's your tears. 

“Bloody hell, please say something,” he says angrily. You feel some of your own anger flare up in response. What's his problem? 

“Fuck,” you croak. 

You feel his chest vibrate against yours as he laughs, suddenly aware that you're as naked as the day you were born and this man is fully clothed standing in your shower, getting his white singlet wet. Giving you a bear hug…

Your brain short circuits as you try to come up with words, feeling your whole body heat with embarrassment. 

“W-what are you doing in here?” you manage to slur.

“Helping your ass,” he says roughly. “Can you stand?”

Fuck, good question. Can I stand??

“C-close your eyes first,” you demand. 

“Bit late to be feeling shy now don't you think?” he teases with a wink. 

“Just close ‘em!” you yell at him. 

He laughs before complying. 

You extricate yourself from his arms, turning off the shower, then navigate carefully around him to exit the cubicle. You grab a towel and cover yourself, making a mental note to grab a clean one later since this one was definitely dirty now. 

“Okay, open your eyes and get out, please.”

He turns to look at you.

“Don't think that's a good idea, bub.”

“And why is that?” you huff impatiently.

“What if you collapse in the shower again?” he says matter of factly.

“I've been having these things for a long time. I've managed to survive so far so don't stress about it.”

“It's different now though, isn't it? You've been having these for a long time, you said so yourself, and they're only getting worse instead of better.”

You sigh heavily in frustration. You hated that he was right. 

“So what exactly are you suggesting?” 

Your heart was beating like crazy. He better not suggest what you think he was going to suggest.

“I'm sure old Chuckie boy wouldn't mind lending you his shower chair for the night,” he smirked. 

You laughed out loud despite the tension in the room. He always managed to make you laugh. 

“Yeah, I'm just going to wake up an old man in the middle of the night to ask if I can borrow his shower chair,” you joked, lightly slapping him on the shoulder. 

He laughed along with you then you both shared a few moments of comfortable silence. Only for him to break it with-

“My other suggestion is to shower with me so I can make sure you don't faint and hurt yourself.”

You stared at him distrustfully.

“Hey, look, I'm not being a pervert, it's just the only solution I can think of on the fly,” he placates, hands raised as if to say I'm innocent and unarmed. 

“Right…”

You stopped to think for a second, your muddled mind trying to make sense of the situation. 

It made you especially uncomfortable that you didn't exactly have your full mental faculties about you. 

But Logan was a good friend. You'd fought beside him many times before and you saw that you could trust him. But… he was still a man. A man much bigger and stronger than you. 

“Can I trust you?” you asked falteringly. What a stupid idea to ask the opinion of someone fully in power over you. 

“I promise I won't do anything without you wanting it. This is entirely your choice.” 

You looked him in the eyes, trying to find a trace of falsehood in them. But you only saw honeyed eyes, dripping with conviction. The same conviction you'd seen many times before when he was protecting those he loved. 

You felt yourself feel a little calmer. 

“Okay… but you better not break your promise. Or I'll sick Charles and his shower chair on you.” 

“I won't. I just want to keep you safe,” he said in a low, serious voice. 

You felt a fluttering behind your ribs. Fuck… I'm about to shower with this incredibly attractive asshole.

“Okay… you get in first,” you said. 

“Yes, ma'am,” he said a little too cheerily. 

You turned around to give him privacy to undress. You heard the rustle of his clothes then a thump as he dropped them on the floor of your bathroom. 

Should've known he'd be a slob…

You heard the shower turn on and you braced yourself for what was to come next. 

You turned towards the shower, keeping your head down and eyes averted. You removed your towel and stepped into the shower, still not looking at Logan and ignoring his presence, which was hard to do in your little shower. Thankfully he was turned away respectfully.

You stood behind him, turned away from his body. You took your soap and began to lather it over yourself as you usually did when you showered. 

“Would you like a hand with your back?” Logan spoke up. 

You paused as you weighed up the question in your mind. 

“Sure,” you said quietly, trying to keep yourself calm. 

This is totally normal. We're just friends having a shower. Together. 

You turned your back and heard him applying soap to his hands. Slowly, gently, as if you were made of glass, he began to rub your back, starting with your shoulders. You felt yourself give an involuntary shiver.

“Are you cold? Do you need the water a bit hotter?” he asked you. 

“No, it's fine. The temperature is okay with you?” 

“Yeah, bub, just perfect.” 

His hands felt massive against your back. He massaged your neck for a few seconds before moving down your shoulder blades towards your middle back. 

“Did-did you want me to do your back too?” you asked, trying to hide how nervous you were. 

“Since you're offering, sure,” he said gruffly. You turned towards him at the same moment he turned away from you, unfortunately catching a glimpse of his insane fucking abs, but thankfully managing not to make eye contact. 

You soaped up your hands and began with his neck, trying not to notice how thick and muscular his traps were. 

God… this is hell but also heaven. 

You ran your hands across his ridiculously broad shoulders and down his middle back, avoiding going too low lest you caress his stupid, tight ass. 

“I'm going to wash my hair, okay?” you told him, unsure of why you were asking permission. 

“Don't know why you're asking my permission.” Fuck. You were being weird. “But I can do the same right?” he responded, holding in laughter. 

You felt your face go hot.

“D-do what you want,” you said petulantly. 

You took the shampoo bottle, squeezing what you needed for yourself before handing it to him over his shoulder, which he thankfully kept turned to you in respect. 

You both washed your hair in silence. You already felt a bit better. You dreamily thought of your bed as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair. 

You then grabbed the conditioner and squeezed some into your hand. 

“Need the conditioner?” you asked Logan.

“What for?” he asked, confused. 

“For your hair, duh.”

“Nah, I'm good. Haven't had to use it so far in my life, won't start now. Need a hand with washing your hair?” 

You knew he was trying to be helpful. But it felt so, so wrong. Like overstepping your relationship as friends. But then again… would you ever get the chance again to have an incredibly sexy man wash your hair for you? 

“Sure,” you said stiffly.

Silence, then his hand moved around you to grab the bottle from you. 

“Ah-” you already had some conditioner in your hand. You were about to tell him but decided to keep quiet as he worked on your hair. 

His fingers… so thick and strong yet gentle through your hair, over your scalp. You couldn't help but to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. 

It was over too soon and he stepped away from you again. You tipped your head to rinse your hair, giving your face a quick scrub with water while you were at it; fuck your skin routine, you were going straight to bed. 

“I'm going to step out first,” you informed him. 

He grunted in reply and you stepped from the shower, grabbing two clean towels from your bathroom cupboard. You covered yourself with one and half turned your body to Logan, gaze still averted from his direction. 

“Here ya go,” you tried to say cheerily, offering the towel to him.  

“Thanks,” he said and grabbed it from your hand. You quickly moved to the door. 

“Wait until I say you can come in,” you said before closing the door behind you. 

Fuuuuucccckkkkk.

This was not helping you to relax at all.

You dried yourself quickly and threw your pyjamas on. 

“I'm done!” you called through the door. 

He stepped out with his towel wrapped around his stupid, slutty waist. You could see his happy trail adorning his abs. His enormous pecs, his dog tags resting in the dip of his gorgeous chest. 

“Hey, bub, my eyes are up here,” he teases. 

You swallow thickly and glare at his stupid, smirking face.

“Have I ever told you I hate you?” you retort, only succeeding in making him laugh. 

“How are you feeling now?” he says softly, suddenly serious. 

“I'm… exhausted. I usually sleep a lot after an episode.” 

He nods in understanding. 

“You'll be okay if I leave?”

This gives you pause. If you were being honest to yourself, you'd say, “Please stay. I don't want to be alone tonight.” 

But you weren't honest with yourself. 

“Thanks for looking out for me, Logan. I really appreciate it and sorry for putting you out. I'll be okay. You can go to bed now if you want.” 

He looked at you in silence. He stepped towards you, so close that you had to look up to keep eye contact. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. Fuck he runs hot. 

“You mean it, right? You're okay to be alone?” 

You stared at him, a little bit dumbfounded. Was he able to read minds or something? 

“Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be in bed so I can't exactly fall,” you chuckled. 

He didn't laugh with you. Only watched you carefully. 

“Okay. I'll respect what you say you want,” he says carefully. 

Again, this is so out of character for him that you second guess yourself whether you're in reality or not. 

You watch as he turns to the bathroom and grabs his clothes from the floor then goes towards the door to the hall. 

“Hey-w-wait-y-you're not going out like that are you?” you stutter in disbelief.

He turns back to you. 

“What else am I going to do?” he asks incredulously. 

Clueless.

“Put your clothes back on,” you retort.

“Ew, you're a bit of a slob, aren't you? They're dirty and covered with blood and who knows what or who else.”

You deadpanned. 

“What if… what if you stayed here for the night?” you blurted out without thinking. You flinch at your own words.

Logan pauses with his hand on the door knob. 

“I don't exactly have my pyjamas here with me,” he says slowly. 

“I've already seen and touched you naked. What's the difference?” you hear yourself say.

What the fuck am I saying?

“I-I mean, surely I have something that can fit you,” you amend quickly. His face seems to go slack in surprise.

“Wow. You really want it, huh?” he smirks at you. 

You ignore the heat that overtakes your whole body. 

“N-never mind! Fuck off already,” you say sourly. 

“Hey, I'm just joking,” he laughs. “I can definitely stay if it helps you feel better.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself melt a little bit. 

“It… it would. Help me feel better, I mean.” 

Having him near you would help remind you that this is real, you justify. 

“Alright then,” he nods to you. “Some clothes would be great.” 

“Ah, sure, give me a second.” 

You quickly go to your wardrobe to locate the loosest pair of pants you own. He'll just have to sleep shirtless, there's no way you have a top that will fit over his broad shoulders. 

You find a dark grey pair of trackies and turn back to him. 

“Try these.”

“Thanks,” he says as he takes it from your hand.

As he moves back to the bathroom you jump into bed to wait. Your bed never felt so fucking good. 

You've barely settled under the covers when Logan reappears from the bathroom, his hair still wet and dripping down his neck. You do your best not to stare. 

He moves towards you and lifts the covers to slip into bed with you. 

This is just a sleepover, you tell yourself. Like when you have a friend over for the night.

Logan slots himself into your bed alongside you and you become suddenly aware of how small your double bed is. The frame creaks loudly from the weight of him and his Adamantium bones. 

“Comfy?” you ask.

He turns in the bed so he's facing you. A smile slowly makes its way to his face and you find you can't breathe for a second. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he murmurs. 

“Alright, sweet, g’night then,” you say quickly, turning away from him to still your beating heart. Fuck, I hope he can't hear my heart right now.

“Are you sure you're ready to sleep? Your heart is beating pretty fast,” he points out cooly. 

Mother fucker.

“So… you have heightened senses right? Kind of.. like a dog?” I'm not thinking straight, why am I trying to piss him off? 

“Thought you were going to sleep,” he grunted. The sound of his gravelly voice did something to you. But you ignored it. 

“It just kind of reminds me of those service dogs, y'know the ones that can sense when their owner is going to have a seizure? I mean, I know I don't have seizures exactly, but I guess it presents sort of like one.”

“What are you trying to say?” he asks gruffly. He doesn't like it when people compare him to dogs. You're just grateful you can't see the look on his face right now. 

“I'm just wondering how you can tell? What is it exactly that you're sensing? It's always interested me,” you say honestly. 

He grunts again and goes quiet before answering.

“I can smell it. Can't even explain what it actually smells like. But that's how I know, although it isn't always accurate.”

“That's really interesting.” And you mean it. It really is interesting… although the implications concerning his sense of smell have you a little bit paranoid… 

“So that's why I'm telling you to listen to me when I fucking tell you to stop with your powers. You could've killed yourself tonight,” he grinds out, anger in his voice. 

“Logan… you need to understand where I'm coming from. You all died tonight. Like literally, right before my very eyes, you were all dead. What do you expect me to do?” 

You feel tears pricking your eyes, the lump in your throat is choking you.

“I… I can't talk about this right now okay?” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Okay… okay, I'm sorry,” his voice softens. “Please, just get some sleep, okay? Guide dog’s orders.”

And just like that you're laughing again, feeling a tear running down your cheek to your pillow. You were so grateful to have him in your life. You were also grateful he couldn't see you crying right now. 

“Alright, g'night, puppy,” you tease.

“‘Night,” he says softly. 

A minute passes and you can already feel yourself starting to drift off. You smile to yourself, knowing that you have your own personal “service animal” to keep you safe tonight.

[freedomfireflies]

Always*

Summary: The fifth and final part to 404*

The one with car crashes and closet sex.

Word Count: 4.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

Arrogant Twat: Playing hooky, that’s not like you

Arrogant Twat: You’re not that cool

Arrogant Twat: I can see you reading my messages you know

Arrogant Twat: So if you’re ignoring me, it’s not working

Arrogant Twat: …okay seriously this is really fucking childish, are you really not gonna come to work just because I won’t fuck you?

Arrogant Twat: It’s been three days, Princess, you can’t hide from me forever

You: You are so fucking annoying, I am not hiding from you, I’m SICK

You: This may come as a surprise, but my world does not revolve around you or your cock

You: So if you don’t mind, I need to go throw up

Tossing your phone down onto the bed, you rush into the bathroom to grasp onto the sink and brace yourself over the porcelain. Silently willing your body to comply, to keep the fluids down. You don’t want to be sick, but thinking about Harry always tends to make you.

You smirk to yourself at the joke before running your hands under the cold stream of water to gently rinse off your face. Needing to feel something cool against your feverish skin before you slink back to bed.

Truth be told, you don’t mind the break from work. And from Harry, specifically. Sure, you understand why he ended things. And you aren’t exactly upset about it, seeing as he wasn’t really that great of company to keep.

But he’s angry. You know he’s angry, and that’s why he claimed he wanted to stop. And you feel guilty over having pushed him there, you do. After all, you knew better. You two don’t talk about anything personal. You don’t ask questions, you don’t pry. You don’t show any sort of emotion or understanding. 

You broke the one rule. And truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how to face him now.

Overcome with fatigue, you slump back down onto your bed, and disappear beneath the covers. Pulling them up to your chin as a shiver rolls down your sweaty skin, all the way to your fuzzy sock-covered toes. 

You try to watch some television to get your mind off the pain and congestion but find yourself growing sleepier with each quippy remark from Chandler Bing.

And before you know it, you’re out like a light.

The sharp chime of your cellphone is what wakes you. Pulling you from a rather odd dream as you groggily roll over and attempt to find the noise. 

It’s a text message, followed shortly after by another. And once you manage to sit up and rub the sandman from your eyes, you see who it’s from.

Arrogant Twat: Open your door

Arrogant Twat: And hurry up, it’s fucking freezing out here

Curious, and a tad startled, you glance toward your bedroom door, almost as if expecting to see him.

He can’t possibly be outside of your apartment building right now. He has no idea where you live, nor would he ever have any desire to be here. This has to be some sort of prank. He’ll get you to walk outside into the freezing night air only to realize he’s nowhere to be found.

That is the Harry you know.

Arrogant Twat: For the love of God, Tinkerbell, open the fucking door before I freeze my ass off

With a huff (and a cough), you fling your covers back and pad over to your window, glancing down into the street.

And there he is, a dark shadowy figure lurking on the steps to your building, angrily glaring at his cellphone.

You feel your heart start to pound, overcome with confusion and intrigue. You don’t understand why he might be here or what he could possibly want so late at night. You’re tempted to send him away, or pretend he has the wrong address.

But you can’t deny that you’re curious as to what he might want or what he’ll say. Especially after the way things ended. Perhaps he’s merely here to catch you up on what you’ve missed with the project. Or maybe he just wants to complain in person.

Either way, you slip on some pajama shorts and a large, oversized sweatshirt for comfort, and head for the door. 

With a deep breath, you buzz him in, and wait anxiously as the sound of steps echoes through the stairwell and between the halls. 

No matter what happens, you’ll stand your ground. You don’t have the energy to fight him today. If he’s coming into your home, he’ll play by your rules.

There’s a knock on the door. Sharp and precise as you exhale shakily and step closer. Fingers curling around the doorknob before you swing it back and come face to face with the troublemaker himself.

He stands in the doorframe, a dark hoodie pulled over his head, and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. 

In his right hand, he holds a brown bag, allowing it to dangle casually at his side while his eyes rake up and down your figure.

“Shit, you look terrible,” he snorts, pressing his shoulder against the entryway. “Worse than usual, I mean.”

Your expression falls, a glare beginning to form. “Well, this was fun. Buh-bye now,” you huff, already beginning to shut the door in his face.

However, he’s quick to outstretch his hand and smack his palm against the wood, keeping it open. “Okay, all right. Geez, it was just a joke. D’ya lose your sense of humor or something?”

“No, that just wasn’t funny,” you retort, but allow the door to stay ajar. “What do you want?”

He lifts the bag into the air and shakes it once. “Brought you soup.”

You blink. “You…what? Why?”

He shrugs once. “Cause you’re sick,” he says, now brushing past you to make his way into your living room. “And I’m nice.”

“Uh…no,” you nearly scoff, turning around to watch him flop down onto your sofa. “You are anything but nice to me, and you know it.”

“Well, I’m being nice today.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Is it poisoned or something?”

You catch his wry smile as he begins to unpack the items and set them onto your coffee table. “Guess there’s only one way to find out, yeah?”

Hesitantly, you shut the door, and follow after him. Cautious of his intentions but drawn to the smell of the delicious food.

He hands you a bowl and some cutlery – which you take rather tentatively – before he straightens up and stares at you. “Are you gonna sit down?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, eyeing the only spot available beside him on the couch. “Are you still gonna be an asshole?”

“Probably.”

You huff but catch yourself smirking. “Fine, but scoot over.”

With an amused exhale of his own, he does as instructed, moving toward the edge of the sofa to make room before sitting down as well.

 Your small apartment fills with a rather uncomfortable quiet as the two of you begin to dig into your food. The silence accompanied by faint slurps and sips that almost make you smile.

And it feels weird to be here with him like this. Relaxing on the couch, eating some soup like you don’t despise each other.

Perhaps you’d even enjoy his company under any other circumstance. 

Clearing your throat, you angle your body toward his, studying his profile as his eyebrow raises. “Why are you here? Really?”

He shifts in your direction as well, grinning deviously from behind his takeout container. “Told you, I’m being nice—”

“Wrong. You’re never nice. Besides, you just accused me of hiding from you, so I don’t exactly think we’re on the best of terms.”

This makes his amusement fade, a subtle frown beginning to form as he shrugs one shoulder up in a nonchalant manner. “I don’t know. I guess it’s an apology.”

“For what?”

“For saying that,” he admits, almost quietly. Avoiding your eye as he stares at his noodles. “And maybe I kind of thought you were lying and wanted to see for myself.”

“Would you like me to vomit for you? Will that prove I’m actually unwell?”

He smiles again. “Nah, I’m good—”

“Really, it’s no trouble. I’ll do it right now, all over your lap—”

“All right,” he groans, leaning back with a crinkled nose. “Ew. No. I believe you, Princess. Fuck’s sake.”

Satisfied, you nod once. “Great. Now, onto my next question. How the hell did you get my address?”

“How do you think?” His expression is mischievous. “Got it from your file.”

“What? Why do you have access to my file?”

“Cause Prescott’s security system is way too easy to hack,” he says simply. “And I knew you’d never tell me.”

“Right. Because we don’t do that.”

“We don’t,” he agrees. “But we’re not fucking anymore, so it’s fine.”

“Oh, is it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how exactly does that work?”

“Because,” he begins, setting his things down on the coffee table, “if we’re not fucking, that means there’s no chance of you getting all clingy and attached.”

Your eyes narrow. “Uh-huh.”

“Which means we can hang out without you falling for me,” he finishes, rather smugly. “So it’s fine.”

“Just because we aren’t fucking doesn’t mean we’re friends,” you argue. “I still hate you.”

“I know. I hate you, too.”

Yet for some reason, you both smile.

“Now what’s the real reason?” you urge, nodding your chin at him. “Honestly. Why are you really here?”

He takes a beat to mull this over, standing from the sofa to collect his trash and take it to your kitchen. “Told you,” he finally says before tossing away his things. “You’re sick, and I felt bad.”

“Is that all?”

Another long pause settles between you as he readjusts the hood over his curls and saunters over to your window seat. “I didn’t want you to be hiding from me,” he admits as he slumps down, eyes flicking out into the dark night. “So I wanted to make sure we were good.”

You study him silently, taking in the way his hands disappear into the large pocket on his abdomen. “Yeah, we’re good,” you quietly reply.

He nods once but keeps his attention on the city. “Good. Cause you don’t have to hide, you know. We’re fine.”

“Yeah, I know. I just said that.”

His body lifts and falls with a small chuckle before he props his legs up onto the cushions and tosses his arms over his knees. “Well, you seemed pissed.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one that threw a hissy fit and fled from the car,” you retort. “In fact, I’m the one that politely agreed and let you go.”

“Right, but you were pissy about it. I could tell.”

“You are so full of shit.”

He laughs again. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am. But not for that.”

He looks over. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re annoying, and you’re rude, and you’re so fucking pretentious,” you list, fighting a grin. “But you have a right to keep things to yourself, and I shouldn’t have asked. So…I’m sorry.”

He nods once, as if acknowledging the apology before returning his gaze to the window. “S’fine.”

Another lull drifts into the conversation, minutes passing by before you notice his expression shift.

“It’s not you,” he murmurs, and your eyebrows lift.

“What?”

He shifts a bit before clearing his throat. “It’s not you, I just…I don’t talk about it. Or…her.”

Her. 

The first piece to the rather large puzzle sitting before you, and you feel your breath catch as you await the rest.

You notice the way he hesitates. The reflection of the night sky in his glasses. The nervous tapping of his fingers.

“Cause if I don’t talk about it, then I don’t have to think about it,” he whispers. “And if I don’t think about, then I don’t feel like putting my fucking fist through a wall, you know?”

“I know,” you answer quietly. “You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

He snorts to himself, leaning forward. “She never should have been in that fucking car. I was supposed to drive her. She was supposed to be with me.”

And even without much context, you feel your stomach wrench, already anticipating what might have happened.

“But she was late,” he says. And it’s angry, the way he speaks. Resentful. “She was out with her friends, and she was late to meet me, and I had shit to do. So I told her. I told her I couldn’t take her to the fucking party she wanted to go to. Because I didn’t want to be out all fucking night. I wanted to get my shit done and go to bed.”

You feel your throat run dry, tears beginning to form as you watch him recall the memory.

“I told her to get an Uber,” he continues, aggravated at first before it settles into something soft and somber. “I made her get into that car, and I watched her go. And I didn’t fucking care. Because I wanted to stay home, so I made her go by herself, and it fucking…and she didn’t…”

Your feet desperately want to carry you to him. To provide him some sort of comfort as he keeps his glare on the city horizon.

But you stay seated on the sofa, waiting for whatever he might offer next as he takes a deep breath.

“And she was just gone,” he murmurs, the air in the room shifting instantly. “She was fucking gone not even an hour later.”

The first drop slips down your cheek before you can wipe it away.

He exhales an amused laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “And I always think how funny it is that the last thing she ever said to me was, ‘Sleep well, H.’ And I haven’t slept well since.”

Now, he looks to you. Studying you almost sadly as you sit in wait.

“And then there was you,” he says. “You, and your shitty ass jokes, and your cocky little grin. You were everywhere. Every day. Sitting across from me, asking if I wanted to split a fucking everything bagel.”

You’re almost tempted to smile, but the truth of what he’s saying cuts too deep.

“And I hated it,” he admits, eyes flicking between yours. “I fucking hated it because you made me forget. Whenever I would talk to you, I would forget. I would just stare at you as you rambled on and on about the algorithm and the fucking API, and I wouldn’t think about her, and I’d forget how fucking angry I was.”

He smiles almost wryly, making your insides twist.

“And I didn’t want to forget,” he tells you. “I wanted to be angry. I wanted to punish myself for what I’d done. Because I didn’t deserve to forget. I didn’t deserve to be happy. Especially with you.”

You sit up, wrestling with the temptation to argue, but he’s already looking back out the window.

“So, yeah, maybe hating you was easier. And maybe fucking you was selfish, but it felt like the only choice. Because sex is just sex. And if I kept you at a distance – at least in some ways – I wouldn’t have to lose you, too.”

 You stand and make your way for the window seat, settling in front of him as he turns to watch you. He looks like he wants to roll his eyes, perhaps in an attempt to avoid your pity, but you lean forward, nonetheless.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” you whisper, ignoring his amused expression. “You don’t deserve to be punished for something you couldn’t control.”

He smirks, but you can see the hint of sadness written between the lines of his face. “Thanks, Dr. Phil. I’ll keep that in mind.”

But you don’t let him tease his way out of this, instead settling your hands atop his knees to recapture his attention. “I’m serious, Harry. I know she wouldn’t blame you. How can you blame yourself?”

His smug grin falters for half a second. “Because there’s no one else to blame.”

A lump lodges in your throat as you scoot a bit closer. “Exactly. It was an accident. Unfair and uncontrollable. But it was never your fault. It was never your burden to carry.”

He leans his head back against the wall, but his attention never leaves you. Almost as though he’s afraid to look away. 

“You can hate me,” you tell him. “I don’t mind that. Hating you is easier for me, too. But you can’t punish yourself for this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy. Not when you deserve it more than anybody I know.”

And maybe this is the first time you’ve ever really understood him. The first time you’ve felt truly connected to the man before you – even more so than when he was inside of you.

Because suddenly, things don’t feel so heavy. The world doesn’t seem so dark. And maybe, just maybe…he’s not so bad.

He drops his legs and sits up to reach for you. A large palm slipping around the back of your neck while you suck in a quiet breath and lean away.

“No,” you whisper, making his eyebrows raise. “I’m sick.”

He laughs, almost as though enchanted by your response. That charming dimple reemerging. “I don’t care.”

“Well you should,” you argue. “Seriously, it’s gross over here. There’s snot and I’ve been coughing all day—”

“Tink,” he murmurs, moving closer, attention dropping to your lips. “Stop talking.”

So…you do.

You let his mouth press to yours, settling into the feel of his touch. Something you weren’t sure you’d ever get to feel again. And despite everything else…you’re content.

He kisses your top lip. Your bottom lip. Steals a breath right from your lungs before nudging his nose with yours. “I still hate you.”

Your fingers tangle into the dark hoodie on his chest. “Yeah. I hate you, too.”

He smiles.

You aren’t sure what to expect come Monday morning. After all, you’re never sure what to expect with Harry.

You left things…friendly but undecided. As far as you know, nothing has changed. Harry is still the arrogant twat you’re forced to tolerate, and maybe that’s all he’ll ever be.

But maybe…you’re okay with that.

If you never fuck him again, perhaps that’s not the worst thing. Becoming his frenemy is decidedly less exhausting than being anything else. And you suppose you don’t want much more than that. At least not right now. You’re happy to hate him for as long as he’ll let you.

But you aren’t sure how he’ll feel about his admission in the light of day. Maybe he’ll regret sharing something so personal. Maybe he’ll resent you for knowing it. Maybe he’ll request the two of you never speak again.

Lucas does his best to engage in small talk with you as you anxiously await Harry’s arrival. Politely ignoring the way you continue to check your watch and glance toward his desk. 

In fact, you eventually become so engrossed in the conversation with the friendly newcomer that you miss that aforementioned ball of thunder striding through the lab.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. He throws his things down and slouches into his chair to begin working. Not bothering with a greeting or even a look of acknowledgement. 

Truth be told, you aren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

And then the lunch hour begins. You assume he’ll disappear to the cafeteria as usual to grab a sandwich before returning to hide himself away in the lab.

Yet today is different. Today he stands up, turns around, and steps up to where you’re sitting.

Before you can even turn around, he dips down, and whispers, “Supply closet. Five minutes.”

With that, he’s gone. Slipping between the computers and desks before disappearing into the hallway as a smile stretches across your face.

After anxiously counting the seconds, you begin to follow. Double checking to make sure no one pays you any mind. 

Once you’re satisfied, you make your way to the closet, and knock twice.

The door swings open, and you barely get the chance to offer a greeting before he’s tugging you inside, flinging the door shut, and pushing you up against it.

 His lips find yours and it’s anxious. His kisses are desperate and rushed but so fucking addictive. 

His hands are on your waist while yours disappear into his hair. His glasses are nudged out of place but neither of you care to stop and fix them. Instead groaning eagerly as he sucks on your tongue.

His hips press to yours, the subtle but familiar bulge hard against your thigh as you drop your head back and whimper. Anxiously pleading with him through a pointed look.

The flick of the button on your jeans is fast and practiced. The material pooling around your ankles while he works to tug his own pants down. 

Two fingers hook onto the crotch of your panties to pull them aside before he slides the long digits through. Feeling just how frantic you really are. 

He kisses you again as he slides them inside, curling and pumping just so. Smirking when he hears your arousal echo between the walls.

Nipping at your bottom lip, he whispers, “This doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

Sighing contently at the way his thumb massages your clit, you say, “Good. I hate you, too.”

He snorts. “Sure, Princess. Is that why you’re so fucking wet?”

To accentuate his point, he thrusts to the knuckle, stroking a particular spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

“S’fucking pathetic,” he murmurs, glancing down, “how easy it is to play with you. Don’t have to do anything, do I? Just have to tease you a little and you’ll soak my fucking hand.”

Your fingers curl into his shirt, either as an act of defiance or out of need for stability. You aren’t sure.

“Cause you like it, don’t you?” he continues, moving his kisses to your neck. “Gets you off to be insulated. Degraded. Get all wet and squirmy at the thought of me putting you in your place, yeah?”

You don’t want to agree with him, but you both know he’s right. Even now, the cold cadence in which he speaks makes your legs shake. 

“Yeah,” he answers for you in a soft but smug hum. “Know you do. Know you just wanna be put on your knees. Where you belong.”

With this thought, he pulls his fingers from your pussy, leaving you to wilt while he tugs his cock out.

There’s not much care as he swiftly and almost angrily tugs your leg up and throws it around his hip. He offers no words of reassurance or looks of encouragement while the tip drags through your folds before slowly disappearing into your cunt.

He ignores your strangled inhale, forehead finding yours as he grits, “Maybe I should do that next. Wrap your pretty ponytail around my fist while I fuck your throat.”

Your lashes flutter shut, nails scraping down his arms. 

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tink?” He pauses for only a moment to let you adjust. “Like it when I make tears run down your face, yeah?”

However, you can’t offer him any reply. Instead focusing on the familiar ache that accompanies the stretch of his large size. 

He pushes in a bit more, wary of your reaction, but overcome with pleasure at the way you take him. “You do,” he decides, that smile returning. “Can feel your little pussy clenching around me. Is that what you want, Princess? Want me to be mean to you?”

Truth be told, you suppose it is. Anything else wouldn’t feel right.

His hand raises to your throat, fingers curling around the delicate and soft skin of your neck before he squeezes once. Keeping your head pressed against the door.

“Take me,” he murmurs harshly before burying himself all the way. Ignoring your gasps and whines. “Fucking take me, Tink. Just like that. S’a good fucking girl. Always behave so well for me, hm? Just for me. Nobody else.”

He sets a slow but hard pace. Looking down at where his cock disappears into your pussy with a dazed look in his eye.

“Do you think about him, Princess?” he asks you next, giving your throat another squeeze. “D’ya think about your precious fucking Lucas when I fuck you? Or do you think about him when you’re all alone? Trying to get yourself off?”

Your mouth opens, ready to reply, but all that follows his remark is a desolate and strained whimper. 

“Or do you think about me?” His lips ghost along the tender skin below your ear. Breathing softly before kissing the spot sweetly. A stark contrast to the vile way he speaks. “Think about how good I am to you…how I take care of you. Picture my hands, my voice, my fucking cock.”

And he’s right. In every fantasy, you see his face, first and foremost. Whisper his name into the air of your room as your fingers curl into your cunt. 

It’s always him.

“Say it,” he murmurs now, offering another gentle kiss to your neck. “Tell me I’m the only one. Fucking tell me I’m the only one you cum for.”

Your fingernails move to scrape down his scalp, tangling in his soft curls as you subtly keep him in your arms. 

You’re not too surprised by this request. Even if the two of you might never be anything more than friends, you imagine he needs to know. He needs to hear that even after everything, you still choose him.

You’re tempted to taunt him with a quippy retort. Egg him on, tell him he’s nothing compared to your vibrator. 

Yet you find yourself whispering, “Only you, Har. Only ever you.”

For a moment, he stills. As if overcome by the words, the admission.

You pull him further into your embrace. “Always you.”

With a smirk, he leans back just far enough to meet your eye. 

And you both smile.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

🥹 I can't believe we've made it to the end of the main series!!! No they're not technically together right now, BUT!!! There will be extras and who knows what they might get up to later ALSFJEFD

Thank you so much to everyone for reading and being so kind, I appreciate you all more than you know!!! You have my entire heart to heaven and back!!!! AND TINK, HARRY, AND I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN VERY SOON!! Specifically for the Halloween extra HAHAHA 😭♥️♥️

Next Part:

~ A-Mazing* (Halloween Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Jealous* (Pt. 4)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @princessprongs @nuggetdean @storyschanging

[swtsupernatural]

S.W || ANGEL BY MY SIDE

Sam Winchester x Fem!Angel!Reader

Content Warning blood, mentions of death, sam fighting for bodily autonomy, religious themes & talk of heaven, reader being shorter than Sam

Summary Angst, hurt-/comfort for Sam, slow burn i think - Sam was supposed to die tonight. At least, that's what his guardian angel told him after she saved him from death.

W.C. 2.4k words

Playlist: ♫ Kiss of Life - Sade, Telephone - daste., Salvatore - Lana Del Rey

A.N. first sam fic ! this came to me sunday night, been thinking alot about spn angels lately. enjoy! - claire

It had been a long fucking day for Sam Winchester. Not only was the demon he found in Manhattan trying to summon more, but they were working with a large pack of them and an even larger pack of vampires that lurked in Vermont’s lush forests. The two creatures had teamed up, and as a result Sam was surrounded in a poorly lit dirt road in the forest, moonlight shining on his knife. He couldn’t see or hear Dean, and he knew Castiel was busy with extremely pressing ‘angel matters’ as he put it. He had vamps and demons circling him, and Dean had the stupid demon knife. Or, he did when Sam had seen him a few minutes ago. Now, he had no clue who had their hands on it. His brain was twisting as he desperately tried to wring out ideas of escape from his head like a sponge. He was trapped. Fuck. A demon sprung, holding a large, saw-edged knife slicing his forearm making him tense. A measly cut never stopped him, and he twisted the demon’s neck, shoving the body to the side as another few came behind him. Twisting and trying desperately to gank two at once, Sam missed the others on his right, one stabbing Sam deep in his lower abdomen.

Significantly outnumbered, Sam tried to keep his thoughts collected. But it was difficult with five vamps and six demons on his ass, and the blood slowly staining his shirt, the agonizing pain making him want to double over. The demons suddenly pounced on him simultaneously. He managed to injure one of them, but the rest kept their grip on his arms, legs, neck, and torso tight. One of the taller vamps sauntered over to him, her lips curling into a smile. 

“You’re gonna taste so sweet, boy. I can already tell…” She pulled his hair back roughly, her painted fingers tight on his long hair. She exposed his neck, and Sam had never thrashed more than he had in that moment. It seemed like all he had done in his adult life was fight for his bodily autonomy. He felt numb — of course this would be how he died. The second he felt her lips on his skin, he felt and heard something he never had.

A loud whoosh, the hands and arms restricting him gone, and a swift change in the chipping air all in less than a second. He was in the motel. His motel he and Dean were staying at in some small town in Vermont.

But…there was still a single hand on his shoulder. However, it was gentle. Too gentle. He turned his head, his eyes meeting yours; a woman. You couldn’t have been much older than him. But you weren't really a woman. He drew his gun from his belt, effectively pushing from you, making space between you two. 

“Who the hell are you?” He was assuming you were an angel. He didn’t know of many other creatures or beings that could move him so effectively and so fast. He was also thinking how everything in this world came with a price. You weren't saving his life to do him a favor or to be nice. That wasn’t how this ever worked. Except; there you stood, your hands tentatively coming up in a gesture of surrender. 

“Sam. I’m very glad you are okay.” You stated your name, a small smile on your lips. Still, he held his gun up directly at your face.

“So much for a thanks, I guess. I’m your guardian angel, Sam. There’s no need for hostility.” Sam faulted, just a bit, but you took a single step towards him and he was back in his rock-solid stance.

“I’m sure. What do you want?” 

“Well, I’d like to heal that cut in your stomach. It’s quite deep.”

He scoffed, “Why? So I can owe you? So I can be in your debt?”

You were silent for a moment, your eyes widening a bit. “Castiel never told you? Sam, certain angels…we are assigned to humans to watch over them. We are permitted to help you, prevent you from death if it is not your time, and only if we are not spotted. We cannot be seen, or…well, in simple terms, we’ll be kicked out of Heaven.” 

“You…you’re my guardian angel? Seriously?” He mulled over you, his eyes squinting in suspicion. “How come we’re talking, then, if I’m never supposed to see you?”

Rolling your eyes suddenly that same whoosh came, only a lot quieter. You had his gun in your hand, pulling the mag out, throwing the piece in one direction and the gun elsewhere in the motel where neither of you could reach it.

“You were going to die. You were supposed to die. That was your time, Sam. I defected to save you. I’d like a ‘thank you’ at the very least.”

Sam breathed quickly through his nose deciding what to do. Your eyes were so genuine. He’d only ever seen that look from one other angel, Cas.

“I…thank you.” You nodded, and he saw realization in your eyes. It was raw and undoubtedly heavy on your being. You nodded. 

“I’m going to put my fingers on your temple and you will feel much better, understand?” You looked at him; from his shaggy hair to his dirty boots, and back up again. “It will be easier if you sit down. You’re much taller than I thought.”

Sam let out a small huff of laughter, sitting on the bed.

“Well, you don’t seem very tall for a guardian angel.” You squint your eyes at him, a look of unshaken power in them that startled Sam to his core. He knew what angels were capable of. You could have killed him and everyone in the motel in seconds. Yet, from someone else’s perspective, you were a hell of a lot shorter than him, and just looked like a regular young woman. 

“My true form is larger than the size of this building, Sam. I know that you know what I am capable of. Even if I may not look like it.”

Sam nodded in an apologetic way, your cold fingers on his temple immediately putting him at ease. Cas had healed him a couple times before but it had felt nowhere as heavily as this. He could feel his wounds closing before he could register what was happening — even the widespread blood stain on his shirt dissipating. He let out a long sigh he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulder slumping forward. He truly felt better than he had in years.

“Thank you. And I’m very aware of what angels can do…though I’ve never met a guardian one.”

You nodded, your face quite close to his. He smiled gently. Cas was never great with personal space either. Yet, Sam always found it funny when the angel would appear a mere foot from his older brother. Now, the last thing on his mind was humor. He would never admit that your presence was intoxicatingly calming. 

“We possess stronger healing powers and sturdier wings than typical angels. Not that it matters much now.” The sorrow in your eyes made guilt settle uncomfortably in Sam’s stomach.

“Why did you save me? I’m not exactly the poster boy for virtue or dignity.”

“I’m aware. But you must understand I’ve been watching you your whole life, Sam. I perfectly believe you deserve another chance on Earth.” Sam gazed into your eyes, trying to find what he could not understand. His father, Dean, Bobby…they had all known and loved him for so long. But they’d never expressed it like you were right now — and he'd never even met you. He had met defected angels before, fallen ones too. They would lose their wings. They would lose their grace. They were as old as the beginning of time, and would sacrifice it all for a single human. 

“But why? You flew me here, but I’m guessing your wings aren't doing too good right now, Angel.”

You stared deeply at his features. You’d seen Sam, watch him grow up before your eyes from the day he was born. But your visions of him were never as clear as they were now. His eyes were a solemn swirl of blues and greens, the inner ring a twirling hazel. The lines on his face told you of his laughter, his light forehead lines telling you of his worries, the short hairs littering his jaw telling you he’d been up for nights focusing on the hunt that was supposed to have ended his life.

“Because I thought…” you looked at a stained part of the unappealing carpet on the floor, your eyes glazing over a bit, “I thought that some of the angels were abusing their power over humans, over hunters. I had been on earth a few times and stupidly got your disease of emotions.” Sam chuckled softly despite the situation, hoping you would feel a tad better. But he knew you didn’t. How could you?

“I felt sympathy for humans. There were unjust things happening everyday, people's lives ending at their wrong time. I thought you were worth saving because–well, maybe it's time angel’s be kind instead of unforgiving.” Sam listened to every word spilling from your lips. You had been very short and to the point with him earlier. You really had begun feeling human emotion, if even a little. 

“And I thought that maybe you’d help me. Help me adjust, at least. I have seen the ways you and your brother act. I know it is selfish of me, but you are close with my closest friend and brother, Castiel.” You took a pause, eyes averting from Sam’s sincere face.

“I have seen you do it for humans and creatures and being alike, Sam. I thought maybe if I was kind to you, you could be kind to me, too.”

Sam stared at you in awe, his jaw slightly open. He honestly wasn’t sure what to say. Of course he would like to help you, but how? You were an angel for God’s sake. Maybe Cas was capable of giving you what you really needed to adjust, to be an angel without your wings, but he’d try. He’d fight like hell to try for you. You saved his life. It dawned on him that he was meant to be dead. He’d likely be in hell at this very moment if you hadn’t intervened. You truly were an angel sent from Heaven for him. 

“Of course I’ll help you, Y/N. You saved my life. I’m not done fighting yet and I’ll try everything I can, as a human at least, to support you.” You smiled. Your eyes were watering and you confusingly blinked at a wet drop falling from your right eye. “What is…” Sam reached a large hand to your cheek, rubbing the tear away. 

“Tears. You’re tearing up. Nearly crying, it happens when you…experience intense emotions, sometimes. Usually they are sad ones, but I’m guessing yours aren't.”

“No. I think I am happy. Maybe…anticipatory?” Your stomach was in knots, but you didn’t think you were sick. Castiel had explained it as…excitement. Sam smiled at your words. 

“Why is everything I say to you funny, Sam?”

Sam shook his head, still smiling as he brought a hand to your shoulder, “Not everything, you’re just…amusing.” You nodded after a moment as if agreeing with him. You knew you weren't accustomed to human culture or customs, you felt out of place every time you were on Earth. Nevertheless; now it was your home. 

“I find you very amusing. And you can be funny, but only when you are not being stubborn.”

“You really have seen me my whole life.”

“But I like that about you. You have such complex emotions.”

“Yea, I do…” Sam trailed off, the twisting in his stomach intensifying as he looked at your lips briefly. “Can I…” he leaned in closer, but not too close. He didn’t want to crowd your space, but you just looked so heavenly sitting next to him on his bed, your lovely hair framing your soft, glowing face. You tilted your head the way Cas did when he was confused about something human-like.

“Can you what, Sam?”

Fuck, your voice was so pretty. “Nevermind,” he leaned back slightly, getting up to call Dean to find out what happened to him before you grabbed his arm pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, Sam.”

“You realize you shouldn't be thanking me, right?”

“I know. But I also know humans can be very cruel and you’ve shown me a lot of kindness. I wasn't sure it was still possible in your world. Oh, and Dean is alright. I asked Castiel to help him as I did you.” Sam kissed your forehead, and it felt like it lit on fire. Your cheeks were warm, and you weren't sure if you were ill, or what was happening to your very human vessel.

“Sam, are you sick?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Why d’you ask?”

“You just made my skin hot, and my stomach feels weird.” Sam froze, his lips coming into a smirk, “Did I?” He tested the waters, lacing his fingers over your arm, and you stared up at him, your cheeks pink and your mouth slightly open. 

You pulled him down on the bed, holding his face with your hands. “Yes.” You stated matter-of-factly.

He smiled, sliding his hands over your cheek. “You gonna do anything about that?” Sam spoke in your ear lowly and you turned your head, his hair tickling your face and leaving goosebumps on your arms.

“I don’t know what to do.” He curled further into your face, leaning closer to your ear, his mouth on the edge.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything, Angel.” 

You nodded, but opted for leaning up and placing a kiss on his forehead too.

“I think I need to teach you about other human stuff before we uh…do that.” You nodded, still leaning on Sam, when a thought came to your head. 

“Hey, Sam?” He gazed over your face, listening attentively to your sweet voice.

“I still have my grace and powers. But, since I’m not a real angel anymore…do you think I can try things like ice cream and taste the real flavor?” He threw his head back, laughing boyishly. 

“Yea, yea, I can buy you ice cream, Angel.”

[420days]

STAYING HOME (SHORT) | JEY USO

summary: jey’s the biggest baby when he’s sick

warnings: none

“Yeah girl, I’m gonna have to pass on lunch.”

“No worries sissy. I understand you wanna take care of your man! Just text me later so I can tell you the tea.” Her close friend, Nicole told her.

“I got you sis.”

After getting off the phone with Nicole she went to the fridge and instantly pull out the items to make a soup. She didn’t know what it was but Jey came down with something that made him extremely sick.

All last night he was throwing up, sweating, and sneezing like crazy. It drove her crazy not knowing what was wrong with him. All night she found herself dozing in and out of sleep, checking in him to make sure he was okay and still breathing.

When she work up this morning she spoke with a nurse to figure out what could’ve possibly been wrong with him. After listing his symptoms is was clear he had some kind of seasonal virus that was going around.

He rarely got sick but when he did he was the biggest baby in the world. He would stay in bed all day and hold Whitney right up under him.

Gathering the items for the soup she instantly started cooking so it would be done sooner than later. She made sure to add the extra spiciness the way they liked it and then started on the dumplings.

“Mmh, this is so good.” She danced to herself as she tasted the soup and then scooped some in the bowl for Jey. She then poured him a cup of lemon honey ginger tea and made her way upstairs.

When she got to their bedroom she placed the bowl and the cup down on the dresser and walked over to the bed where Jey was sprawled out. The room was freezing cold but his body was still hot due to his fever.

“Sweet face, wake up.” She called out to him a sage placed the food on the night stand and opened the blinds to let some light in.

“Baby close that.” He sucked his teeth and pulled the cover over his head to block the sunlight.

“Jey, come on.” She sat down on the bed, rubbing small circles into his back.

“Hmm?” He moved his head from under the comforter while adjusting his body to face her.

“Eat for me and you can go back to sleep. I made you some soup and tea.” She ran her hands through his small curls as he laid his head in her lap.

“I thought you were going out for lunch?” He asked.

“No, I gotta take care of my baby.”

“You don’t gotta do that. Go out with your girls.” He told her but she ignored him and picked up the humidifier so she could change the water in it.

As she did he grabbed the bowl off the dresser and instantly began eating it. If there was one thing Whitney could do it was cook her ass off. He loved all of her cooking especially when he was sick.

“How is it?”

“You know it’s good baby.” He licked his lips.

“Good, how do you feel? You look way better than yesterday.” She asked as she sat down on the bed next to him.

“Damn, I looked fucked up yesterday?” He sucked his teeth and turned to face her.

“Just a little bit.” She giggled.

“You’re not right for that. I couldn’t fucking breathe. He narrowed his eyes are her.

“Well you didn’t want to drink the tea. I bet you’ll drink it all now. It cleared your sinuses right out after I forced it down your throat.”

“That’s how you’re gonna treat me when we’re old, huh? Abusing me and shit?” He took the tea from her as she busted out laughing at how dramatic he was being.

“Hmm, maybe. You can be difficult sometimes we might have to send you to a nursing home.” She laughed once she saw the expression on his face.

“Yeah fucking right. You’ll be real upset when I find a young thang to take care of me.”

“And I’ll beat both of y’all asses. Old or not.” She pursed her lips at him. No longer thinking it was funny.

“Babe, you’re a trip.” He shook his head at her.

——————————————————————————

tag list: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh

[theemporium]

You thought your boys were being dramatic when they first told you about their heats.

At first, you thought it was a joke they were playing on you. You were new to the lycanthrope world, you weren’t sure of the logistics and there wasn’t exactly a ‘werewolves for dummies’ book you could check out in the library. You thought maybe this was just your boyfriends pulling your leg to have some fun.

When other sources confirmed it was real, you thought they were exaggerating the whole thing to gain some sympathy points. Max had a tendency to sometimes dramatice stuff and Daniel usually went along with it because he thought it was funny. And truthfully, you just assumed that was at play here.

But then you saw it and realised they hadn’t prepared you enough. 

The only good thing was that for as long as you had been with the boys, their heats have never once matched up. One was always before the other and it meant you usually had a few days in between to rest before you dealt with the next shift. It felt like the universe was on your side. 

Until this month. 

You hadn’t even noticed their heats moving closer and closer together. It hadn’t even crossed your mind as a possibility. But then suddenly you were waking up to one boy pawing at your tits and the other one trying to tug your pyjama shorts down your legs and you realised just what you were in for for the next week. 

They were fucking relentless. Somehow the possessive nature and horniness combined to make some weird, twisted competition between them both to be the one to make you feel the best. No matter where you were or what you were doing, one of the boys was always on you.

And sometimes they both were.

“Oh fuck,” you let out a moan as you felt Daniel press up behind you, warm and comforting and overwhelming all at once. You could only let your head roll back as his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, a small growl vibrating across your skin. “I thought I banned you both from the shower.”

“But you smell so nice,” Max whined as he nosed your jaw, his hand tracing down your body before hiking your leg up around his waist. “And you were all alone. S’not nice.”

“We just wanna take care of you, darlin’,” Daniel murmured as his teeth scraped along a sensitive spot on the base of your neck that made you whine out loud. 

“You both are fucking relentless,” you moaned out, your nails digging into Max’s shoulders when the head of his cock teased your poor, used cunt. “You’re gonna fucking break me.”

“Never, schat,” Max murmured before he lifted his head, his lips tracing over yours and you could have whined when he didn’t kiss you right away. “Just gonna keep you nice and full, remember who you belong to.”

“And you’re all ours, honey,” Daniel whispered from behind, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands began to explore your body. You let out a choked noise of surprise when his fingers brushed against your other hole, teasing you as you whimpered at the thought. “Every single part of you.”

“Please,” you begged as the water cascaded down onto the three of you, hot and fast and adding to the burning need you had to have both of your boys inside you. “Shit, please.”

“Look at you,” Max cooed as he slowly thrusted into you. “S’like you’re in heat with us, just as desperate.”

Daniel’s free hand groped and squeezed your tits as his fingers slowly worked into your other entrance. “Because she’s a perfect match for us, baby. She’s our mate.”

“Our mate,” Max growled as he nuzzled his face into your neck, listening to your racing heart as they spread you open. “Ours.”

“Yours,” you cried out when Daniel pulled his fingers out, only to be replaced with the head of his cock teasing your whole. “All yours. Just yours.”

“Atta girl,” Daniel cooed softly when you let out a sob, his arms winding around you as he sunk into your ass, until they were both bottomed inside you and pressed against each other. “Such a good girl for us.”

“So good,” Max praised with a kiss pressed against your pulse point.

“Please,” you whispered, your nails leaving dents in Max’s skin but you didn’t think he would care. “Move. Use me. Fuck me. Fill me up. Pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

“Shhh, don’t need to cry,” Daniel cooed, something soft but patronising in his voice as he slowly pulled out before thrusting back in. “Gonna take such good care of our pretty mate. Just gotta trust us, darlin’.”

.

[90ekz]

across the map.

☾ summary: usually onyankapon likes to keep his face shaven and sleek, but once he notices how you can’t keep your eyes off his new facial feature, he has other plans.

☆ tags: black fem reader, chubby reader, facial hair kink (??? idk man), sub!ony for like 2 seconds, overstimulation, porn w small plot, teasing, creampie, p in v, liberal use of “ma” & “mama”, mention of pregnancy, not proofread, vaginal fingering, onyan & y/n are roommates in college, business major onyan <3

♡ a/n: sorry for being gone so long, i’ve literally been so busy 😭😭, but thank y’all for 500 followers !!! the support means the world to me.

it wasn’t even intentional.

onyankapon had gotten so busy with his classes overseas that he’d slipped up on his weekly shave. he typically didn’t grow facial hair very fast anyway, but all of a sudden his goatee was sprouting like weeds.

he couldn’t figure out why, until he’d locked eyes with the facial serum connie had gifted him for his birthday. dumbass.

in theory, onyankapon should’ve already shaved it. he told himself that he wouldn’t do it the night before his flight, but he really didn’t have time to keep up with that promise.

and he was lazy.

onyankapon tried to ignore it, but everytime he went to touch his face he was reminded of it, and it just made him cringe. he was finally going home to you tomorrow, and he wanted to look perfect for his baby.

when he’d left home three weeks ago, you were so sympathetic and understanding about the lack of time you were gonna have to talk but still a bit somber, knowing your conversations would be reduced to good morning & good night texts.

now, he stood over his hotel room sink, attempting to both not fall asleep and shave at the same time.

it wasn’t working.

“fuck it. not even finna do allat,” he just flicked the bathroom light off, knowing had a long flight in the morning and it was already nearing one in the morning. he just hoped you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable with his stubble.

the next morning, onyankapon felt his lips curl upward when he received a million texts of you being so giddy about him coming home.

sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: BAE

sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: OMG BABY UR COMING HOME 2DAY

sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: HAVE A GOOD FLIGHT BABY ILYSMMMM

the whole flight home, all onyankapon could think of was your plush lips against his and that round ass that he would inevitably be fondling soon. the woman next to him probably thought he was a psychopath from the way he was randomly giggling to himself.

walking off the plane and eventually into the baggage pick up area where he finally saw your face for the first time in almost a month, onyankapon was overwhelmed.

the way your face lit up when you saw him, your body in that pretty little skims dress, god.

he felt like he was in love again for the first time.

you threw yourself into his arms and he was just as excited to see you, but he couldn’t help but kneed the fat of your ass as you kissed him senseless.

“have some shame, we’re in public.”

“can’t help it. my sweet lil’ thing, i missed you…” you gasped as he gripped your ass once more, but not for the reason he thought you did. your eyes had finally zeroed in on his newly bearded face, and you couldn’t help the ache that suddenly appeared downward.

you never saw onyankapon’s facial hair, or rather, he never even gave you the opportunity to see it. as soon as you jokingly commented on how his stubble was tickling you, he was in the bathroom with the door locked while the clippers released a small whirring sound in the background.

you’d always been curious. you liked a lil goatee here and there, but it was never a major turn on or anything.

but on your nigga? yeah, you needed him bad.

he wet his lips as he peered down at you, even giving you a peek of his shiny diamond grill as he smiled at you. you trailed behind him slightly as he led you to your car, trying not to stumble from the heartbeat down below.

“shiiii, slut me out.”

“whatchu say, ma?”

“nun! cmon boy, you walk slow.”

onyankapon let his hands wander the whole drive home. on your thigh, rubbing against your nipples, even rubbing small circles onto your clit at one point.

you two barely got into the house before onyankapon was caging you against the wall and attacking your neck with his teeth. all you could hyperfocus on was the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin.

your hand snaked to rub the sweet spot on his neck, smiling to yourself as he turned to putty. he smiled into your neck, his own hands wandering under the seam of your dress. his eyebrows jumped upward at your wetness.

“fuck.. all this for me mama?” you nod weakly as he immediately pushes two fingers knuckle deep into you, already knowing that you’d been preparing yourself for when he got home.

any words this man was saying to you were barely making it into your ears. anytime onyankapon spoke, you were immediately drawn to his lips and chin, and just how mature he looked.

it was almost sophisticated.

“been gone for so long and you won’t even focus on me. makin’ me sad, baby.” onyankapon breathed out, still a bit in disbelief that you were finally in his arms again. his fingers worked an almost melodic rhythm inside of your cunt, while his palm kept your clit company.

“more—fuck, onyyy,” you couldn’t help but whine out louder as his stubble scratched against your neck once more. the scratch only added to the knot threatening to burst in your stomach.

“shit, get these off mama.” onyankapon tugged at your dress and the panties underneath, silently begging you to get rid of them.

“you nasty.”

“you want me to make you nut or nah?” you just smacked your lips and removed your dress. his eyebrow quirked when you didn’t immediately take off the panties and bra accompanying it, but he dropped to his knees nonetheless.

you shivered at his warm breath ghosting against your clothed pussy. he continued to lap and lick at you, leaving a heavy feeling in your gut.

yet you still wanted more.

you wanted more for the sole purpose of feeling his chin hair scratch and rub against your pussy, your neck, all over you, wherever he wanted.

“c-can you—fuck!” onyankapon just smiled at you, already knowing what you wanted him to do, all you needed to do was beg for it. he just continued his skillful movements, just wanting to tease you for a little longer.

“what can i do for you, my love?”

onyankapon struggled to conceal his laugh, because he expected that you wouldn’t beg to him, not without a lot of coaxing that is.

what he didn’t expect was for you to slip your panties down while he wasn’t looking and stuff his face nose-deep in your cunt without warning. his eyes grew wide as you started shamelessly fucking his face, while he struggled to not choke on his own moans.

between your essence dripping down his chin, the grip on the back of his neck and your whines, onyankapon’s cock found itself getting much stiffer much quicker than he anticipated.

every bump of your clit against his nose against his nose sent a zap to his dick. he just sat and took it, his grip on your thighs tightening so much that he started to wonder if he was gonna break skin.

sex with ony’ wasn’t usually this rough, but three weeks away from each other had your bodies screaming the second you came together again. he really didn’t know how you’d react to seeing him again, but he hadn’t considered that you’d be this dominant.

neither did he think about how much he’d like it.

you pulled him away suddenly, presumably so he could catch his breath. onyankapon could swear that you were talking to him, but his mind was completely gone.

“‘m sorry, mama. ‘shouldn’t have done it, just lemme please you.”

before you could respond, his tongue was roughly digging you out, his grip on your waist being the only thing keeping you on earth. he didn’t stop licking until you’d cum on his tongue twice and were begging him to stop.

“ooh, ony—too much..”

he barely cared, making that known as he continued to press kitten licks to your sensitive hole.

“hey—boy are you even listening to me?” onyankapon gave you a stank look as you pushed him away with your foot. you couldn’t help but laugh at how badly this nigga wanted you.

“i wasn’t done.” suddenly you were being flipped over and onyankapon’s thick cock was laying against the skin of your stomach. he looked just about ready to rip you apart.

he gave your clit a few taps before pushing home, the action making your eyes roll back. he didn’t hesitate to slam himself into you roughly back to back, the meat of your ass slamming against his balls.

onyankapon began to kiss on your neck, and smirked into the crook of it when he felt your cunt spasm around him.

“missed you so much ony—needed t-this..”

“fuck, missed you so much more.. such a good girl…” his thrusts only sped up as you whined his name louder and louder with each kiss his cock placed against your cervix. his grip on your waist was tight enough to leave bruises, as he latched onto you like he was afraid you’d slip away from him.

without any warning, onyankapon strokes his fingers against your clit, and your losing your mind while cumming on his cock. he just coos at you, wondering what he did to deserve you. the overstim quickly sets in though, and you’re not-so quietly begging him to slow down.

“shhh, i know you can give me one more ma, i know you can…”

‘one more’ turned into two, three, and eventually four drawn out orgasms, all sprayed onto onyankapon’s lower abdomen. fuckin’ liar. “mmhm, want me to nut in you mama? want this mini-me in you, yeah?” all you could do is nod weakly as he pumped you full, his thrusts finally slowing. your eyes cracked open to see him smirking down at you while he languidly stroked your cheek to make sure you were still with him.

“you so cute. you still with me?”

“mmm.”

onyankapon just smirked as he got some things to wipe you up with. after a few minutes, you finally started to sit up and recover, only to get an immediate attitude with him.

“i can’t believe i let you nut in me,” you mumbled as he turned on the newest episode of General Hospital. he just laughed at you, not being worried considering you’re on birth control.

“you’re so into the beard, you woulda begged me to anyway.” you just scoffed before walking to the bathroom to pee, knowing that he was right but not wanting to admit it.

“i was not.”

[mimasroom2]

Accelerating Fury pt 3

Pt 1

Pt 2

Guys I didn’t even realize they don’t use guns in the hunger games until I started writing what weapon Ellie would use….. only the peacekeepers use them. Interesting very interesting. Uh sorry I haven’t been active in a super long time. I take a lot of breaks from writing but I at least wanted to finish this series! Idk how many more parts to this there will be. I’m gonna skip some of the hunger games bc it’s not that important to explain ALL of it and EVERY SINGLE THING that happens. Probably 1 or 2 more parts.

C/w: Death. It’s the HUNGER GAMES LOL. Angst angst angst all the way until the very end. Hmmmm. More death but it’s not super graphic.

W/c: 4.9k

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

As you stand on the pedestal, the countdown grows fainter and fainter in your mind. You see Ellie across the way with her eyes locked on something just outside the cornucopia. She hasn’t looked at you even once.

You can’t stop looking around at your surroundings. How bold the gamemakers are for this arena. A whole ass city with numerous nooks and crannies and corners for anyone to hide in. You can see in the distance a bunch of shops with old logos your parents told you about. You’re trying your best to see if the gamemakers made it accurate to the old world at all, squinting to see if maybe there’s a hair dryer from this shop called Ulta that maybe you can choke someone with. You try turning your head the most you can, you don’t want to risk turning with your feet and misstepping. Now is not the time to be blown to smithereens. No matter where you look, none of the shops have anything in them. Then it dawns on you: it’s all abandoned.

Your jaw would drop, but you still can’t believe the madness of the situation. Suddenly, a big, booming alarm goes off that sounds like an air raid drill, and your feet are already hurriedly carrying your body away from where you stood before you even realize it. You swear it hasn’t even been 5 seconds, and you already hear the screams of the weak who fell victim to those at the cornucopia.

As you run away from the bloodbath at the cornucopia, you realize there are no ressources. What the fuck? You keep thinking to yourself as you run: There’s always a plethora of supplies in the cornucopia. That’s why it’s called the cornucopia. And the city and its stores have no supplies in them. What are we going to do? Do they expect us to murder each other with our bare hands?

As if on cue, a mix between a grunt and a scream catches your attention from behind you. You try not to stop running, but you glance back, and you swear what you see will haunt you forever. It’s Ellie - she’s straddling another tribute, hands above her head, knife in hand, blood spattered on her body, and a snarl on her face. She swings the knife back down into the throat of the male tribute she’s on top of. Even more blood squirts disgustingly out of his throat and onto Ellie’s entire face. By the looks of it, he’s dying pretty slowly, however he can’t get up or even move. Ellie quickly stands up and turns around. She’s leaving him a painful death.

She doesn’t even wipe his blood off.

Suddenly, a young girl runs up with a broken piece of glass behind her. Ellie swiftly cuts her throat in one motion. The girl collapses. Then another boy tries his hand at killing Ellie. So much for hands, you swear you see one of his fingers being cut off as Ellie uses her knife to stab and slash at his hand to make him drop whatever weapon he was carrying.

You’re stunned. It’s all too much. Your heart and feet feel planted and you can’t even move. That is, until you see another tribute quickly run by you. There’s no time to think, you run, heading toward the street where the clear view of the cornucopia ends. Before you turn the corner, you can’t help but quickly look back one last time at Ellie. She’s still killing people, but you realize her knife isn’t just any normal knife.

It was the same knife she used when you first met her.

~

A few hours have passed since the incident at the cornucopia. Your heart isn’t racing nearly as much, but the fact that you can’t even find Jesse to tell him what happened makes your head spin with worry.

You’ve realized after walking through multiple shops, all while being careful not to make any noise, that there are a few things scattered around here and there. Small things, never enough in one place. So far you’ve secured yourself a water bottle, a hammer, and some bandages. Definitely not the best you could hope for, but better than nothing. You catch yourself thinking about Ellie again. Do you think she’s got a shit load of more sponsors now that she’s killed half a dozen people? You actually weren’t sure of the count, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is she did it. And why weren’t you getting anything from sponsors? Was it too early in the games? Night had already begun to fall. Tommy assured you multiple times that everyone loved you. Even at your lowest, everyone was intrigued by you.

You scoffed to yourself. Even at my lowest, huh? Fucking Ellie. Why’d she have to go and say that. You felt so strange feeling mad about it. It was like a strange combination of disgust, disappointment, disbelief, and jealousy all in one. You wondered if this is what everyone else calls ‘angry’.

You decided to put yourself to good use and try finding Jesse… and somewhere to sleep. You were lucky enough to grow up in district 8, where at least you had a proper bed. You sighed to yourself. Going from the Capitol beds to probably having to sleep on the actual street was going to kill you.

~

As you wandered the streets, you didn’t see any sign of anyone else. You would think with all these blocks of buildings close together you’d be running into more people, but clearly not. Still, you held you hammer in your hands.

There was no more news of Ellie and even less signs of Jesse. You didn’t really know which worried you more. You also don’t know how long you’ve been wandering around for. Maybe two.. three hours? Judging by the sky. But you couldn’t be sure. The gamemakers could easily speed up or slow down the sky and other tellings of passing of time in here. You hated not knowing anything anymore. At least at home and in the Capitol people would tell you things, or you could just guess. But here, a guess isn’t enough. You have to be absolutely sure, or you may die.

At a certain point you have the bright idea of sleeping on the roof of a building. You’re not the best at climbing, but it can’t really be all that hard. Especially because it’s not a tree or anything. Plus, you have the amazing advantage of being able to see farther from higher up. A random memory from outside the arena lodges itself into your head. Didn’t someone else do that one time? Climb a pole or tree or something?

You find a nice building that’s not too high, but still offers you some nest-like qualities. You take your hoodie off and tie your three tools into it like a sack. You then tie the hoodie to one of the loops of the jeans they gave you. You start to climb, and try your best not to fall, placing your feet and hands onto where the windows and lopsided brick poke out to hoist yourself up. You wonder if Tommy’s watching right now. Watching you specifically. You wonder if he’s keeping an eye on Jesse. If he’s not already dead.

At this thought, one of your feet slide off, but luckily you have a tight grip with your hands, so all it does is scare you a little. You curse to yourself and finally push yourself onto the roof. You untie your hoodie and look at the view. It’s not the best ever, not by a long shot, but it’s dark out and you can still see pretty far away. You sigh and unpack your things from the makeshift sack. Luckily there’s a lot of room on the roof, and even though all the buildings are abandoned, everything is still pretty sturdy. You take the bandages you scavenged and place them down like a pillow, and use your hoodie as a blanket. Not too shabby. You’re pretty proud of yourself. For surviving this far. For not dying. Or killing anyone.

Just as your mind shifts to what you’d have to do in order to kill someone, a loud song starts playing. Startling you, you quickly sit up and see the projection Tommy told you about. It’s all the tributes that have died so far. Tommy told you it was a good idea to keep count. That’s what he did. His voice is in your head, saying: “…Let me know when it was over.”

As the pictures start appearing, you’re shocked to see just how many people have died already. Some thanks to Ellie, no doubt. The cannons start too, with each picture. Your knuckles tighten on your hoodie, you keep repeating in your head, “Not Jesse or Ellie. Not Jesse or Ellie.” You don’t pay attention to anyone else projected. Or any of the canons that seem just a bit too loud.

Suddenly, the whole thing stops, and you think it might’ve glitched, but it never turns back on. Ellie and Jesse and You survived.

~

You don’t even remember falling asleep. You just remember waking up, cold. And scared. You had a nightmare that Ellie was in her interview. She said the exact same things. But this time you couldn’t take it. You walked right past all the other tributes. Past the Avox blocking the way. You went right up on that stage and strangled Ellie. In front of everyone.

The nightmare ended there, but you knew what happened after was the worst part. The Capitol would punish you in ways you couldn’t even imagine.

You sat up to clear your mind. Thankfully, it was sunny out again today. A few clouds, but a nice, cool morning. You decide to get down from your roof, you thought about just waiting it all out, but decided that was an absolute shit plan. You’d probably end up waiting forever only to come down and be face to face with the strongest tributes left standing. Recipe for disaster.

After climbing down from your roof, you decide to go out and look for Jesse and Ellie again. You have no idea where your roof was. If you had to guess, probably a little northeast from the cornucopia? ‘Fuck if I know’, you think to yourself.

You decide to walk a little more east. Your guess is most of the tributes went super far north, to explore what was over there and to get away from the cornucopia. You break some windows to let yourself into different stores, if the doors are boarded up. You’ve found nothing really useful, a few screws in an old matchbox and some random cords you have no idea what to do with. You stow them away in a corner in case you need them later, but leave them behind.

Suddenly, your stomach growls. You’ve been hungry for the few hours you’ve been scavenging, but chose to ignore it. Most of the stores and buildings you’ve been to didn’t seem like they’d have food in them. But now, it was getting to the point where it hurt, and you were starting to feel lightheaded. When was the last time you ate? You think probably in the Capitol. But you didn’t have breakfast the morning you were brought here, and you didn’t even eat much the day before. So.. what does that make it?? Two days?

As you continue walking, you guess you’re probably heading as east as you can get. That shiny thing by the last row of buildings looks like a forcefield.

You decide to enter a building that looks like a mall. At least, it looks like a mall from what your mom has described to you. You wander around and see a sign for a store on the first floor that says ‘Boulangerie’. That sounds kinda fancy. Maybe they sell lingerie or something? You wander over out of curiosity, but you soon realize there’s a cake stand in the window.

HOLY SHIT.

You rush over and look around inside. It seems like it used be a little shop that sold food. You catch yourself. ‘Used to be’, as if the gamemakers didn’t fabricate everything about this. You scoff, and run your fingers along the vacant cake stand. Everything seems to be empty. All the shelves have dust and the displays are all gone. You decide to look in the back just to be sure. There’s nothing much back here either, some boxes and drawers. You look up to see another door you didn’t see before. You walk over and move the boxes that were in front of it out of the way. As soon as you successfully open the door, you see some baked thing inside plastic packaging. You gleefully rush over and grab one. Turning it over in your hands, you see it’s some sort of bread or roll. You realize it’s in the shape of a heart. Rolling your eyes, you tear it out of the plastic and take a bite. It’s definitely stale, but it’s a little sweet and seems to be pretty filling while not being all too dense. You smile to yourself, deciding you could survive off of bread for the rest of the games. During one of your hunts in an old office building, you found a satchel type bag. You can’t fit an entire box worth of bread in there, but you manage to take a few, about seven, and stuff them in without crushing them.

You want to look at the other stores in the mall, to see if maybe there’s more food or some better tools than a hammer. You exit the Boulangerie, and you’re about to walk across the way to another store when you hear glass break.

Stopping in your tracks, you turn around to face the entrance of the mall, and, to your horror, you see a group of three tributes slowly walking towards you. You see that they’re not careers, but still, they’re all holding weapons, and you’re sure they’ve seen you.

There’s two girls and one boy. You recognize the girl in the middle as the female tribute from district five. She’s holding a machete. Where the fuck did she find that? The male is holding a bat, and the other female has only a shield in her hands. You deem the first girl as the ‘leader’, and she’s slowly walking towards you.

She makes a clicking noise with her mouth, as if she were calling a cat. “Cmere angel, we’re not gonna hurt yah.”

You’re scared out of your mind, but your mouth says differently. “That’s not even my name.” You retort, slowly backing away, “And what a fucking cliche thing to say.”

As soon as those words come out of you, you regret it, because in a blink, the whole group starts running at you.

You turn on your heel and run away, quickly going up the stairs to the second floor of the mall. The building is massive, but you haven’t had any time to explore it, so you really don’t know where you’re going. You turn left down a hallway and into what looks like a small gym. They’re not hot on your trail, but running makes enough noise, and the building is designed to hold a lot of people, so they can easily see you pretty much wherever you go.

You zigzag in and out of the work out machines, trying to lose them so you can hide somewhere. It works a little, but with three of them they’re all trying different routes to get to you.

~

Eventually you find what looks to be a good hiding spot. There’s an office that’s tucked away in a corner of a hallway. You run inside and crouch down behind a desk. You can hear them out in the hallway, trying to figure out where you went. With all the running, you forgot to take your hammer out, so you try holding it firmly, but it’s hard when your hands are shaking like crazy.

You can hear them getting closer. You’re playing the waiting game now. You can hear each person going into all the different stores in the hallway that you’re in. At this point it’ll only be a matter of time before they check out the last one and find you. With each door they open and each time they curse that you’re not in there, you find yourself not even thinking of your family, or even Tommy or Dina.

You can only think of Jesse. How you never got to properly say how much you appreciated him, or how good of a friend he was. You wonder how you guys would’ve been in another life, returning home after the reaping, going back to your separate families and never really ever talking to each other. You realize that you really do love him, and you wish that you could see him one last time before you die.

You hear the door open, and footsteps of your hunters walking inside. You grip your hammer as hard as you can.

“There’s really no use in hiding now, Angel. Cmon, if you come out now I’ll make your death nice and swift with my blade here. How’s a decapitation sound to you, hmm?”

You try breathing as quietly as you can. But you know there’s no use. This is the last place they have to check, and you’d be kidding if you thought you stood a chance against all of them. Maybe one, yes, but all three? Hell no.

You hear them giggle to themselves as they slowly make their way closer to the desk you’re hiding under. It’s really over, huh?

All of a sudden, you hear someone burst through the door, grunting and running up behind them. You hear a scream and a slash, a body dropping to the floor.

“WHAT THE FUCK!!?” You hear a male’s voice yell, but he screams as well. You don’t know what to do, you’re even more frozen in fear, afraid that the person who just came in will find out you’re here and kill you too.

There’s more fighting going on, you close your eyes and put your hands over your ears, still while holding your hammer. A couple more seconds pass, although it feels like an eternity, when then everything goes eerily quiet. You don’t open your eyes. Why on Earth is everything so quiet? Could you have died and not remembered it?

You’re trembling too, not daring to move in case the person is still in here. You hear footsteps approaching you. You think it’s all actually really over until a familiar voice says “Hey.”

You slowly take your hands off your ears, open your eyes, and look up. It’s Ellie, knife in hand, dripping with blood. You slowly look her up and down: her shoes are all scuffed up, the hair from her half up half down style is all in her face, and she’s managed to get even more blood on her than when you last saw her yesterday. She looks completely out of breath too - she’s panting.

You know it’s her, but you really can’t believe it. “Ellie?” You set your hammer down.

“Don’t wear the name out, okay?” She says and reaches out her hand for you to take. She helps you stand up, and you raise an eyebrow at her. If you were still in the Capitol she probably would’ve said that last line with a shit-eating grin on her face. Your confused expression suddenly turns cold blooded and angry, when you remember how much of a dick she’s been to you.

“What the fuck, Ellie? Now you’re being all nice to me? What happened to fucking hating my guts or whatever bullshit thing you said during your interview.” You try walking past her, but she puts out her arm to stop you.

“Hey, I just saved your fucking life. You’re welcome.” She stares at you directly in your eyes.

You don’t have time for this, you know you’re making a nasty face right now. “Why? What were you even doing around here? I haven’t seen your selfish ass since what you did at the cornucopia.” You realize you may have fucked up after letting that last bit slip. Ellie’s eyes dart down and then back up at you, and her eyebrows furrow.

She shrugs her shoulders and looks down at her feet, before admitting in a reluctant tone, “I was looking for you, okay?”

You can feel your eyes widen and a wave of heat wash over you. Was she really looking for you? Or is this an act to gain your trust so she can just kill you off?

You want to believe her, you really do, but everything she said during her interview and backstage to your face all comes back to you. You roll your eyes and look her up and down, “Yeah? Gimme one good reason I shouldn’t choke you out right now.”

Ellie’s eyes widen and she smirks ever so slightly before replying “Well I’ve got this knife in my hands and I haven’t tried killing you.. right?” She raises her eyebrows and smiles.

You huff and shove her a little, murmuring about how stupid this all is. You blush and pull away immediately when you realize your hands are still on her.

She gives you a weird look, to which you recognize immediately and try coming up with something to say, but you end up just mumbling, “Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right.” and crouching down to pick up your stuff off the floor.

She stares at you for a moment too long, and sighs, “Well, now that that’s that, let’s get a move on.”

You mutter to yourself as you pick up your hammer and put it in your satchel. You notice Ellie staring at you as you guys walk out of the office.

You make a confused face at her, “What?”

She laughs and says, “We need to get you a better weapon.”

You roll your eyes at her again, this time playfully, and rustle around in your bag to put the hammer away.

“You got any snacks in there?” She looks at you with her iconic grin on her face, and you accidentally stop walking for a second, but play it off as stopping to look in your bag.

“Oh shit, yeah. Here.”

You pull out one of those stupid heart shaped breads, and you swear this situation could not get any more bizarre.

Ellie takes it and gives you a weird look, to which you scoff and say, “I’m obviously not the one who made them, okay? Just eat it.”

~

You and Ellie have been making your way north for a couple hours now. You don’t really say anything. What is there to say? You still don’t know why she saved you, or why she was looking for you in the first place. You know that you should bring it up, but you need to do it at the right time, or else something bad could happen. You feel bad for being cautious, but this is the hunger games, right?

You still have the empty water bottle in your bag, and Ellie’s been insistant on getting you a better weapon. You’ve been occasionally popping in and out of different stores to see if there was either of the two in any, but so far everything has been empty.

Eventually, you two find a fountain in a little hidden corner. You’re hesitant at first, but Ellie says it’s fine. It’s in the corner, so if someone tries hurting you, at least there’s only one way they can come from. You two sit down on the edge of the circular fountain, facing each other.

You fan yourself from walking, and Ellie reaches into your bag to get the bottle. She fills it up. The water doesn’t look dirty all too much, thankfully. You feel like you’ve just found the garden of Eden.

You don’t mean to stare, but your eyes catch Ellie lift up the bottle to her mouth and take long, drawn out sips of the water. You never even realized how plush and full her lips look. You unconsciously bite your bottom lip and look away.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and hands the bottle to you. You take a few sips and set it back down.

Ellie says nothing. You feel like you could cry with how many wild thoughts and emotions are all built up inside you. Everything has been all too much. All your thoughts of Ellie are all muddled up, and you don’t know whether to be relieved or sad that she saved you.

You look up at her and you realize she’s looking at you too, and she still has all that blood on her face. You reach to take your bag and jacket off you, placing your bag on the ground and your hoodie in your hands. you silently and slowly dip the corner of your hoodie into the small pool of water to the other side of you, ring it out a little, and bring it up to Ellie’s cheek. You pause and look in her eyes, silently asking permission to touch her, to which she puts her hand on yours to place the wet cloth on her face. The blood starts coming off. You go back to the water to dip it and clean the blood out. You bring it back up to her face, and with your other hand you gently hold the other side of her face to keep her steady. You can tell your eyes are already glassy from trying not to cry. You look into her eyes and say, “Why did you save me?”

Ellie’s bottom lip actually trembles. She looks down and says, “Because I wanted to.”

You’re still cleaning her face, but you feel yourself start to cry. Your voice shakes as you say, “I thought you hated me.”

She shakes her head slightly, but not enough to disrupt your work. “I don’t. I promise. I don’t hate you. It’s the opposite.” Her tone is so soft and sad. She still can’t bring herself to look at you, and you suddenly bring your hand down.

Your voice completely breaks and there’s tears streaming down your face. “Then why did you say those awful things about me?” You shout, a little bit louder than you intended to. Ellie winces a little. You can tell it’s not from your volume, but from shame.

“Because my mentor told me to.”

You just stare at her. You don’t even know what to say. “Wh… What?”

She finally looks up at you, and you swear she looks like a lost puppy who came up to your doorstep in the snow. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. About all of it. I never should have agreed to it. It was so stupid. My mentor told me what to say because she was scared of you. After your training score was announced, she saw the reactions other people and sponsors had, and she was scared that you’d be more popular than me. That you’d be a threat.” She looks up, blinking back tears, “I didn’t mean any of it. I don’t know what I can do to convince you, but it’s the truth. I really- I really knew I fucked up after I walked away from you backstage. And the guy from my district said he was gonna kill you. And then we were sent here and I knew I had to kill him the first chance I got. I know it’s bad and it’s a horrible thing to do but I just couldn’t let him hurt you with how kind and thoughtful you are to me.” She’s fully crying now, once a few tears slipped she couldn’t stop, and she’s rambling on and not making any sense. But still; you get it.

“Ellie, I get it. I- I understand.” You wish you could say more, but you really can’t think of anything.

“I’m sorry. I’d never do anything to hurt you, okay?” She looks at you directly, and takes your hands in hers. You think Ellie is probably the best person you’ve ever met.

You take your hands away to wipe away your tears, and nod silently.

Ellie pauses for a moment, looking away. “Yknow… I did really like your dress.. by the way.”

You laugh, drying your eyes more, “Oh yeah? Which one?”

She laughs, “All of them.”

You just giggle in response, and look up at her. Your eyes accidentally flicker to her lips. But she notices, because she does the same. You let out a small, shaky breath, scooting closer to her. She’s not even trying to hide it anymore, she’s staring at your lips, and she comes closer too.

She’s reaches up, gently tucking your hair behind your ear, looking into your eyes. You can’t exactly read her expression, but you’re literally swimming in her eyes with how gorgeous they are up close.

You’re relieved that Ellie never hated you. You honestly hated how it felt to feel mad. To be angry. It felt wrong and disgusting to you. You’re still staring into her eyes.

You lean in, holding the side of her face like how you did when cleaning the blood off her. Both of your eyes keep flickering back and forth between lips, and each others eyes.

She takes one last look at your eyes before softly kissing you.

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

[yowyowyaoi]

Itachi's Daily Texts from the Akatsuki, Part Two

From Kakuzu

Won't be as effective if you don't get some damn sleep.

You need to stay off of it for at least a week. I'll explain to Nagato.

How you choose to live (and die) is your own business.

Well tell him to take it easy with you. Your stamina isn't up for "extracurricular activities" like that, brat.

I'm aware. I'll deal with him later.

If you don't wish to pay it then use a candle instead of that lamp.

Once again, GO TO BED.

Your sweets consumption is appalling.

Of the three of you, I'm not sure which one worries me more. Four counting Tobi.

A gengetsu where all I have to do is sit still and money flies into my lap. Birthday present.

Your worst is likely STILL superior to his "best".

Rent is due. Utilities as well.

From Sasori

I swear your stubbornness rivals even that of Deidara's sometimes.

I'm working on a new remedy that should still the pain for much longer periods of time.

If you don't take better care of it I'll be forced to amputate. And as a warning, once I start with body modifications I find it very, very hard to stop.

SLEEP.

With as bad as your breathing sounds? The enemy would hear you coming from a mile away!

Eternal doesn't mean eternal patience.

I told him to behave himself with you or I'll take away his clay.

I wish I could help more. I truly do, child.

My thanks for the book, I'll return it within the week.

I'll admit I've thought about it but I'm not sure the sharingan would translate as well aesthetically in wood as it does in human flesh.

From Hidan

Prove it.

Mine's shorter but it's better. Not so greasy.

You'd be healed from everything if you just prayed to Jashin!!

It's a. Fucking. Fishing pole. He has like fifty! Why's he making such a big deal out of ONE?!

I did it and I'm NOT sorry.

Shit ain't my business but really isn't he too big for your sick-ass body?

Can't even tell you man.

It's not my deal but blondie looks cute as fuck when we go. Tell him I said that and I'll cut off your balls with my scythe.

You're like a fucking vampire dude. You NEVER SLEEP!

When I tried saying it Kakuzu almost knocked my head off my damn neck.

Stop being so gay and come with us. It's not like you've got shit else to do that day!

Whatever asshole.

I would rock your fucking world and I wouldn't break your ass in half like shark-dick.

Just use your creepy eyes and put him to sleep first! All we gotta do is cut off like two inches and he'll freak so bad he'll have a heart attack!

You know what? I'm gonna lend you my Jashin bible. One you read it you'll see I'm right about everything I keep telling you!

From Zetsu

You hurt his feelings, child. He said you're the only ones left of your clan and you never wish to spend time with or even speak to him.

I can smell it coming from your pores.

Time is merely an illusion.

These trips to Konoha are proving quite lengthy ...

You should probably lay low for a bit. Kakuzu finally received the credit card bill for all of those tea and dango shops.

That's a lovely idea but I doubt ALL of us could go to one place without causing some chaos.

There is no heaven and no hell. There is simply NOW, and whatever realities we choose to create for ourselves.

I believe he's started to think of himself as being your "big brother". Could be either good or bad for you.

From Deidara

Art absolutely IS a "life necessity". Heathen.

As good as friends as two assholes can be, right?

Mine got softer since I started using the eggs. It's slimy but after it sets in, it's really great.

If I wasn't goofy about Danna and EVERY OTHER man in the world died, then maybe.

Should you really be drinking?

Maybe if you went to sleep! Fucking hell you're creepier than a vampire!

Yeah but if I DID like girls I bet I'd get more than you!

I just don't get why he wears it? He's hot as FUCK without it.

Would Kisame get mad if I asked him if he wanted to come with us to the aquarium?

Just get Konan to do it. She's nice and has soft hands.

Hidan wants to but I'd rather stay home.

Yeah I could teach you but yours wouldn't explode so what's even the point??

From Konan

Thank you! I can't believe you noticed! <3

You need the fresh air, come with me for a walk.

Don't listen to him ok?

Yes and no. More so "yes".

I wish I had the time for it.

I'm almost done with that book, you have the sequel right?

It's like every single particle of dust on the road just magically finds it's way into my hair.

If you're trying to avoid back pain, I'd advise against it.

Not that I don't appreciate them but ... did you go out at one in the morning to pick them?

He talks too loud and I've already got a headache.

Thanks for letting me borrow it, Nagato's hair is much healthier now.

From Tobi/Obito

You think THAT was bad?? Try BATHING the son of a bitch!!

You, me, and Sasuke could do it though. It would be more powerful than any clan that ever existed.

Just because it tasted good did NOT mean you needed to eat that many in one sitting!

I applaud the idea but with as weak as you are right now I don't see how it could work.

He's taller than you now. Still with the short hair though.

I can see I was wrong in criticizing Fugaku's parenting style because you ARE a handful, little cousin.

Four hours of uninterrupted sleep would do you a world of good.

Why should I give that up?? It's absurdity to think that an UCHIHA has a PUPPET as a romantic rival!!

It gets so hot and itchy under this thing.

A vacation somewhere warm and quiet would be nice.

Your idea of atonement is even more fucked-up than mine.

No but HE said I had to.

I'm honestly surprised nobody has tried to kill him yet.

I wish it was so. I truly do.

It's loud but you have to admit it's better than being alone.

Come and eat.

Depends on what your definition of "helpful" is.

From Kisame

Did you eat something yet?

Did you get any sleep last night?

Come here, I drew you a bath with lavender oil.

Can I help that I legitimately worry over you?

Just a snack? Just so you have something in your stomach? Please?

The water is warm and gentle and I bet a swim would cheer you up.

I forgot how much energy they have, I ran myself ragged trying to keep up with them!

Then come let me brush that beautiful hair of yours.

I understand. I don't agree but I get it.

Then just let me kill them. Problem solved.

Come on, please, just one quick little nap. An hour max.

They invited us but I know you don't really like red meat so I said no.

Fortunately MY bed is VERY warm and cozy. Come and see.

It might shock you to learn that there are other foods besides dango and tea.

You shouldn't even have to ask, that was 1000% Deidara.

There are other, and perhaps more interesting, ways of building your stamina. <3

Never imagined that one day I'd want something like this, but here we are.

Is it a little one or a big one? If it's small just take a deep breath and use your shoe.

I love you as well but dammit brat you'll be the death of me for sure!

[imdoingsortagay]

In my morning glory

Summary: Waking up in Wanda's bed after an especially good night out in the city

a/n: Morning glory by Kehlani is so Milf!Wanda to me so here is this

word count : 700 words

It wasn't in the plan for you to stay over at Wanda's house for the night.

You respected your girlfriend's decision for that as she had to wait for her ex-husband to drop off the kids the next day. thought she was happy when he promised to drop them off on Monday afternoon instead of Sunday morning.

Was Wanda a bit nervous to let you stay over after a bit too much to drink from the two of you?

Yes

Was she also a bit excited nonetheless?

Yes

Now here the both of you were, at the entrance of her house a bit drunk. Wanda is more drunk than you are to calm her worries about this happening while you lovingly grab her waist.

“ need me to help you find your house keys, Wanda ?”

“ No,” Wanda mumbles,” m an intelligent girl, you stay there and be pretty “.

“ well I can be pretty and help you, baby,” you tell her and start to leave kisses all over her neck—a little motivation to get her to find her house keys quickly.

“Honey stop being a tease,” she grumbled a bit,” let me find my keys I told you to be there and be pretty for me”.

“Well, what if I wanna help my mommy out by incentivizing her to find them quicker ?”.

Right as you called her that name, wanda could not have found those keys quicker, opening the door quickly as she drags the both of you up to her room for some fun time.

“ How about you be pretty for mommy in another way honey?” Wanda tells you before she starts to undress you.

7 hours later

Wanda wakes up in her bed, having a massive headache from the night before and regretting even drinking one drink at the bar with you but she smiles a bit seeing you peacefully sleeping.

All she remembers as she sits in bed is going to the bar, getting home, and waking up. The redhead is a bit surprised when she sees you peacefully sleeping to the right of her.

Oh right, she forgot that you stayed over.

“ fuck fuck fuck,” she mumbles as she worries about how to get out of bed.

It had been a while since she'd slept with someone, having only done it once before marrying Vision and once right after they had divorced when Natasha had come over to comfort a broken-hearted Wanda from the tragic event in her life at the time.

Natasha had been very used to sharing a bed with the other redhead as she had done it back in the compound when the young woman had come back after the battle of sokovia.

Vision had been kind of an ass when it came to Wanda sleeping over so it took her a while to work up the courage to do this.

‘Just stay calm right now wanda, y/n is fast asleep ‘ She thinks to herself. 

It felt nice to have someone in her bed, forgetting the warmth of another person next to her during mornings like this. Wanda tries to calm her mind a bit more but the moment that she moves to see your sleeping body, all of her worries go away and she can’t help feeling all giddy inside.

“ I can’t believe that I got lucky and met you,” she says to you as she runs her hands over your face, happy to have met someone who can treat her like a goddess and makes her more confident in herself.

“ Wanda,” you mumble,” what time is it ?” 

“ 9 in the morning honey,” she tells you,” why ?” 

“ I’m gonna sleep some more after last night,” you pause,” can you come cuddle with me, if you can ? please?” 

Wanda’s heart skips a beat at hearing your morning voice, feeling herself get a bit soaked but ignoring that feeling as she scoops you into her arms, not wasting one second to give you all the cuddles in the world. 

“ You never have to ask to cuddle me honey bug,” she says as she leaves a kiss on your forehead,” I’m always here for that you know that”. 

“ you know you're the best girlfriend right ?” you tell her and don’t fail to catch her blushing a bit at your compliment. 

“ I know “.

Wanda had nothing to worry about, she had you in her arms sleeping peacefully, and grateful to have you in her life.

[zmediaoutlet]

“I’m starving. You think they’ll let me sell your ass for a Slim Jim?”

“You made that joke last time we were arrested.”

“What, you think a good bit is only good once? I get no respect, no respect.” The last part not much of an impression because Sam presses harder on the bullet wound with the wad of toilet paper and Dean’s voice goes thin and crackly. A clean-ish hole, in through the meaty part of his shoulder and out by his armpit. Could’ve got his heart or a lung but it doesn’t even feel like it cracked the collarbone. Apparently demons are terrible shots. Lucky, Dean had said, swallowing hard and making his voice harder after. Sam didn’t dignify it with a response.

Dean’s trying to get blood off his hand with more TP. It’s thin, awful stuff, shreds against the tacky stain. The chain between the bracelets clinking. “In those Norwegian prisons I bet they get wet wipes, huh?” he says. Sam takes a deep breath through his nose. “Pampered, or whatever. Could go for some pampering.”

“I’m not killing you,” Sam says, “does that count,” and Dean laughs breathy and weird. It must really hurt. He’d be throwing Sam off already, otherwise.

They dragged the body of Henriksen’s old boss out into the main part of the jail. There’s been shouting. A boom that shook the building but no one has told them what it was, exactly. They aren’t currently top priority, despite being such world-class criminals. A break but not much of one, with Dean still bleeding over Sam’s hands. With what’s coming.

“Demons, huh,” Dean says. On the same train of thought when blood’s on the line, as always. He shifts on the shitty jailhouse mattress, gets his bootheels square on the ground. Sam shifts along with him, keeping the slack easy between their manacled ankles. “Better or worse than cops?”

Henriksen’s vicious little grin, telling them they’d never see each other again. Not quite yellow eyes but Sam’s stomach flips. Dean’s fingers slide over his, in the enveloping shadow of Dean’s jacket. Sam’s let his grip go slack.

“Can’t exorcise a cop,” Dean says, answering his own question because Sam feels like he’s going to puke. Taking point, as always. “Gotta be a point in the demons’ favor.”

“How are we gonna get him to believe us,” Sam says.

It’s all he can think. There are demons and there’s this asshole, do-gooder cop, who thinks he’s saving the day from monsters when he doesn’t know what monsters really are. If they had iron and salt and silver and a chance they might make it out. Maybe. Not like this.

“He thinks we’re psycho graverobbing murdering cannibals, Sammy, I’m not sure we’re in the circle of trust,” Dean says. He jostles his shoulder against Sam’s chest, even though that must hurt. “But hey, at least he didn’t guess about—”

“Jesus,” Sam says. Dean grins white in the emergency lights. No, Henriksen didn’t say that, did he. Although he did—about Dad—

“You think if we start making out in here, they’d open the door?” Dean’s fingers slip against his, pressing both their hands harder against his shoulder. He flinches. Still grinning. “Just to pull us apart, anyway. Worth a shot.”

“Shut up,” Sam says. Dean bites his lip, turning his face away. His chin trembles and Sam wants to—lay full length over him, take the next bullet if it comes. Go back in time and exorcise the demon before it could pull its gun, get Henriksen against the bars and get his hands around Henriksen’s neck and force him to hear the truth. That the dark was swarming up around them and if Henriksen didn’t let them go then it was going to take everyone in this station and, worse, it was going to take Dean and there was no chance, not one in the fucking world, that Sam was going to let his brother go without a fight. That it was impossible for that to happen again. Everything in him was solid on that part. That just—there’s no way that was going to happen.

Dean’s knee sags and presses against Sam’s. “Okay, so,” Dean says, chin tipping down. “We’ll take out the demons, save the day. Guess even cops beat demons. And save the making out part for later, huh? Though I could go for some of that surf and turf.”

Sam breathes out. He puts his forehead down to Dean’s shoulder for two seconds, and then sits up straight. There’s more shouting, somewhere past the hall to the holding cells. Sam squeezes his wrist, lets him drop his hand, presses the compress hard and solid against the wound. Dean’s looking straight ahead, steady. A well, somewhere in him, that always seems to have one last drop of relief.

[rennybu]

hi.... i'm just a poor boy . who does not know the loam lore. would you be willing to share.... a summary.... (so curious i am a loam enjoyer)

oh my gosh hi griff..! oh there is so much to tell... i will h ave no choice but to put this under a readmore. the shortest answer is that he is my character of 3+ years in @jawsandbones homebrew dnd campaign and he is like a son to me. but to start off with baby pictures:

LOAM was born 52 years ago in a city called TILDEN, which is blocked off overland by a CURSED* SWAMP that creeps closer every year.

*Misremembered and only Recently Re-Contextualized Major Historical event

His mom is a shy, worried, and loving woman named Bayla - she's a druid and sells medicinal mushrooms of all sorts. His dad is an unwaveringly positive (but incredibly serious) mason named Uttara who proudly works on all sorts of projects around the city, especially major infrastructure. Yay stoneworkers!

(Because fantasy lifespans are strange and somewhat silly to me I just imagine Firbolgs to be stuck in their mid-20s existential dread until they're like at least 150. The backstory part of this spans literally 51 of his 52 year s of life. he's so young)

He got equal enrichment from time spent in nature with his mom as from time spent in the city with his dad. His nickname in the Tilden Firbolg community To This Day is "Always With Questions" - a kind of affix to differentiate him from any other Loams. He may not know much but he really would like to find out, please!!!! He sees a lot of beauty in the natural world, but his idea of what's natural is skewed somewhat by the uh, Curse. He once fell through some algae into a deep body of water and had a very fun memento mori experience as a kiddo (beautiful golden sunbeam shining onto a silty skull)

He got the name Loam very young from his interest in both his parents' work, which lead to him learning about soil types and uses in gardening and construction aklfhglskg. Loam was important for both jobs so he (in guess-what-I-just-learned little kid fashion) told everyone who would listen about it. The association STUCK and he's Loam now :].

His birth name is actually Rahara! but that's secret knowledge only his bestest friends and Tzip and some scarycool important NPCs know.

He loves beasts and magic and plants so much. And on the flip side he also loves and is fascinated by architecture and engineering. He never got any like, higher academic schooling or whatever, but had many many different apprenticeship type training relationships from his parents, other tradespeople in the city, from the senior rangers etc etc.

Small break to plug @jawsandbones lore packets for the Quarter Cities (including Tilden), Scarabae, and the overall campaign setting!!!! I'm just gonna talk about stuff without adding too much context of my own because AAA WORD COUNT!!!

The hole in Loam's ear was brought about by a shit ass Tilden local trying to tear his earring off him, since he'd bought it from a foreign merchant from a city Tilden/the Quarter has historically warred with. Loam's always been open minded and deeply curious about other cities, due to how isolated the bog is. Any visiting merchants are sources of wonder!!!! Even though he only bought the one hoop earring from the Quietus merchants (Mirjam and Mihail, mother and son!), after the ice was broken he stayed by their stall the rest of the day and talked about all kinds of things, and befriended Mihail!

Loam trained as a ranger as soon as he was old enough to do so!!!! He saw it as the next logical step past what his parents would be able to show him and was incredibly eager to get hands-on experience in the wilds. He met his first ever boyfriend among his peers there!!! Bragi... he has had many lovers and situationships in Tilden since, BUT only recently feels comfortable trying monogamy again after meeting Tzipporah.

Bragi unfortunately died badly to a creature in a traumatic backstory incident that left young Loam super fucking bereft and hyper aware of how easy it is to die. (Big monster attack + group of trainee rangers accompanied by a few more senior rangers + chaos and bloodshed. Loam carried Bragi to safety and tried resuscitating him but he was already gone. The experience made him uncomfortable with the idea of being in a defined, monogamous intimate relationship for the next like. 19 years. He felt like he got ripped in half!)

After the ranger's guild recovers from THE CREATURE ATTACK, Loam meets his close friend, Reece, a fellow ranger and Kenku (she looks like a masked shrike)!!!

He gets his septum pierced by the same visiting merchants from Quietus a few years after Bragi's death. It's a very important moment for him, where it feels like he can finally start to let himself change and grow beyond that event. He also spends more and more time in the city, away from the more rural/overgrown districts, and chases a love for the arts and partying and people, where he meets Kallirhoe (human, not a even a classed bard but like. an indie musician. an eboy if high fantasy had eboys. a tattooed twinkish fellow. you know the type)! They are very good friends who also have sex. Many days spent waxing poetic about THE BIG WIDE WORLD and how they'll never get to see it. (Spoiler: He sees it)

Loam gets into tarot as a hobby, and makes his own deck in a very scribbly freehand style with ink and charcoal!!!! he's slowly replacing them with more Worldly artwork - the deck he left home with was very. Tildencore

Many good years of being a party girl who has to go work a construction job tomorrow and then go be a ranger at 6. A rich and storied life. AND THEN THE GAME TIMELINE STARTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A path Through the bog has recently finished being built by Dagda, the Southern representative to the other Quarter Cities, making more trade possible overland, and making local tensions go even crazier. Also there are strange Awful Huge Scary Monsters appearing WORLDWIDE, so the Directions and the Three Kings of Scarabae and the remote island of Geest (ADRA'S HOME!) and the mysterious magical Widow's Wood are all like "STOP WAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RN". Trials are held in the Western city of Dina to appoint FOUR TEAMS OF FOUR to help defend against the new threat. Loam is like. Well I've gotta fucking do that. I've got to try. If I'm not chosen, at least I've set foot outside. He has a fight with his mom about this, because she is terrified she will lose him, like she lost her mother in a previous conflict when Scarabae was occupying the Quarter, before Loam was born. He stands firm and his dad has his back, and ultimately he leaves with both their blessings, but his dismissal of his mom's feelings weighs heavy on him the longer he's away from home. (He has a big cry and reconciliation about this when he is next able to come home.)

I'm clapping and cheering and skipping joyfully because now he HAS MET HIS BESTEST, DEAREST, CLOSEST FRIENDS IN THE ENTIRE WORLD: ADRA ILSA AND TALEE!!!!!!! I have to be so careful now because we have no joke hundreds of pages of notes. I cannot read that shit on google docs mobile app. We are approaching session one hundred and fifty of this game. They love each other so fucking much. THEY ARE THE INFORMATION GATHERERS!!! A PARTY OF SLEUTHS!!!

He also has his meet-cute with Tzipporah at the trials, which in hindsight is hilarious, because of the whole, "Tzipporah was sent to the trials as a spy (by the very people responsible for the giant awful monster crisis) and immediately pegged Loam for an easy mark to get information from" thing. And he was 100% correct. But a lot has to happen before that gets revealed. They took a nice night walk and write each other big long letters. And Loam tells him soooooo much <3

At one point while exploring a wizard tower he attunes to a lightly cursed ring and forgets what his parents look like, like their likenesses are Gone from past and recent memory. Which is a big thorn of homesickness that he writes to them about. He has a big cry and stares at them both for a LONG time when he next sees them.

Also they save an orphaned Kenku from some bandits and now Loam has a little shoulder-sniper named Bubby. We have a son. A perfect little crow son who is really good at killing, with arrows. He hides things in Loam's hood regularly

Other major things include ummm umm Loam's TWO deaths, one during a dungeon-rescue type scenario in a room that was Flooding and full of Phantoms and also a charmed Druid (Feyan, good friends now) wildshaped into a big scary water snake. He was hurt bad and (comedically) levitated so he wouldn't DROWN but then got Phantom Speared right through the torso. Second one was because Tzip's evil half brother Vences was like, mad at him for being a good influence on Tzipporah and interfering with the spy duties. Chill touch so no healing + dagger in the ribs! Ow. Also the reveal that Tzip was a spy was happening like, simultaneously here so we were yowling and screaming. (Well. Talee and Co had their long time hunches about this. Loam and I had turned a beautiful blind eye to all suspicious activity)

ANYWAY HIS DEATH SCARS LOOK LIKE A COMET ABOVE HIS BELLY!!!! The spear scar made a patch of his fur turn white (front and back), and the dagger scar is its crude tail!

I am skipping over so many plot revelations i. This is just the Loam Cut. and it's not even all of it.

His buzzcut was for emotional superstitious reasons!!! He cut it after Death 2 and Tzipporah getting taken against his will back into Evil Gang. Loam's mom has a lock of his hair at home now. ALL THIS TO SAY TZIP IS OKAY, NO LONGER SPYING, WE RESCUED HIM AND RIPPED A MASK OFF HIM AND SAVED HIM FROM GETTING HIS MIND EXCAVATED ! SO LOAM IS GROWING HIS HAIR OUT AGAIN!

The deaths of his close friends and their allies have also been. insane for him to process. To return someone to life in this setting u need to like. entreat a Titan. plead on the deceased's behalf and offer something up for the chance to revive them. (NO player spells like revivify. house rule) So interacting with these entities he sees as like Both forces of the natural world AND of huge religious/cultural importance regionally. And to have their requests be HEARD? He loves magic he loves Titans. And the plot is unfolding in such a way that scares me so bad. He loves his titan (The Curious Spear) SOOOO MUCH he has like the foundational belief that it can see through his eyes. Even if not true it motivates him to always seek understanding of strange new things.

Oh my god I didn't even talk about his multiclass into druid. He's a druid also. Circle of the Stars!! As a navigational point. He loves them. He loves space. He loves geography and regional interpretations of constellations. He used to just do freehand observations but truly became dedicated to charting the skies of every place the party travels to, after Tzipporah gifted him a grid-lined journal <3 <3 <3 STARRY FORM!!!!!!

His awe and inspiration and hunger for knowledge is the well he draws magical power from. My Boy is thematically bound up in the soggiest parts of this earth and also the unknowably distant stars above and I'm normal about it (lie) (There is a new and scary Third Thing rising which is the space between. I <3 Void). I know i draw him beige and green but his like, character colour theme is. Dusk to me. Gloaming. When the world is lit like a dream <3

In summary. In conclusion. He and Adra and Ilsa and Talee (and the rest of the Four of Four) are trying to prevent Global Disaster of an existential scale never before seen and are being very brave about it.

Loam wants to understand everything about Everything. Because understanding is love. Unfortunately there are hostile resentful and vengeful forces making this hard to do. Most recently by saving a city we Unmade a magically sustained centuries-old library. And we haven't had time to like fully let that sink in. Because of the horrors of war and being Four of Four means responding to emergencies and protecting cities as best we can against a foe that was forgotten by history until like, 10 months ago. Less, even. I hope this is anything. I hope u are his friend now too because he is yours

good lord how could i forget. His gender is male in such a way that he does not give a shit about it. He's one of the girls. He's genderless. Like a knight. His sense of identity is built on Living Laughing and Loving.

his personal goals are 1. to uncurse the bog in such a way that the wrongs committed by Tilden historically are brought to light and righted, 2. to get super married to Tzipporah and build a house together, and 3. to somehow, eventually, through great teamwork and effort, cure(?) the dreadful lingering soul plague on the island of demeter. HUMBLE! OH and to make a finished star chart covering the entire planet. humble.

thank u for reading here are his current stats

[deadpool15]

My girl

Watching her sit there and dance now, that was amazing. I mean, I love to see my girl dance, especially since I know it took her a lot of courage to battle someone like Kristen. She was known in the dance world, and when she went up their you could see it in everyone's eyes. Curiosity yet excitement, though no one wished to take one that level themselves, so when she stood up and looked at us, I knew at that moment I would be happy no matter what. Bada was always cheering us on throughout the entire competition she was on our side. Even when I told her I had a thing for her little sister Yaya. She was our youngest member on the BEBE crew, and now everyone saw the skill and wanted her to join, but she didn't. "You're an amazing dancer, Yaya, and you would be a great addition to the crew. When have I ever been wrong about something like this," we watched Bada sit there trying to compromise with her younger sister, who before today we had no idea she had. "You're my big sister. You're supposed to say that. Can you imagine what it will be like. At times like this, I'm grateful we don't look alike, I'll be known as the downgrade Lee sister."

After some time, we managed to get her on the crew, even getting her to become my girlfriend with the help of her older sister, of course. Getting her listening to the comments of our crew was tough, like we knew that everyone was gonna put on a facade for the show but like wow they were either very good at it or just shit talking for fun. Then, when we heard the comments about Yaya, all hell broke loose.

Biggy- So it seems we have more then a two international teams?

Nob- But she is on team BEBE, so probably just another one of Bada's lost cause of a student.

Redlic- Yes, I remember her she took one of my classes before she isn't the best. It was actually sad to watch.

Redy- She is Bada's younger sister, I remember seeing her when she was a lot younger during our Cupcakes era.

Halo- I would hate to be her. Imagine living in someone's shadow your entire life.

I looked over and was pissed how dare they say that about my fucking girl. She is more talented than any of these wannabes. "That's bullshit and they know it," we were all shocked by Badas' words. Never had she been so ill tempted to swear on camera. We sat down comforting Yaya. She has always been the sensitive type. "Hey, bubbs, don't listen to even of them, ok? You have more talent in your left thumb than they have in their entire bodies." I tell her, smiling while grabbing her body to bring her closer to me. The rest of the team starts nodding their heads, agreeing with me. Everyone else comes down with LADYBOUNCE glaring at us like we were supposed to be scared or gi e a shit.

Back to where we were, the dance battle with Kristen was normal, giving us your average thrill and suspense until it started getting sexual. Now I know how people think when they see Yaya, shit I think like that when I see her. Kristen was giving her the bedroom eyes, my fucking girl. Everyone was sealed once Yaya gained a burst of confidence and decided to throw her ass back against Kristen. Now, any other time one would say a great battler plays along with thie opponents, dancing with them to throw them off their game, it's something I've learned in freestyle. Now, when I see people do it, I praise them for having good battle techniques, but as soon as Kristen started angling her hips to catch some ass I was done. The battle was over. Well, there was, and it seemed like my mine had just begun.

Before I knew it Kristen started becoming closer, I mean Jam Republic as a whole was cool and buddies with us but none of them shared such a distinct interest in a short, ebony beautiful young lady that happened to me my fucking girl. Getting her number to hand out was cool, I'm not overly possessive, so I was fine with that. Going shopping and eating together was ok, but clubbing was just a fucking no no. This leads us to this moment. "Baby, I love you so much, ok. And I trust you wholeheartedly. But you're not going to club with Kristen." I say while holding her waist, causing her smile to drop and back up from me. "Why, not?" I truly do love my baby, but she was so oblivious that sometimes anyone could see that girl wanted her except of course herself. "Baby, she has been trying to get with you for months, and I know she is your friend, and you see her as one, but she definitely wants fuck you ok. Anyone can see it. Especially in that dress I mean I would wanna fuck you too." She smiled for a moment before remembering the situation and there it goes the argument had begin.

"You have always had some time against her from day one when she is just trying to be nice. She is my friend, and I don't say shit about any of your friends that you have out with when you wanna go dance and drink." I was sitting on the bed staring at her. She looked so beautiful in that dress, but it left nothing to the imagination. Her ass was literally hanging out, and it was hard to focus on the right things. "First of all, watch your mouth. You know I don't like the swearing, and second I don't exactly have anything against Kristen, I'm pretty sure she is a nice person when she isn't trying to get into other people's girlfriends pants baby," she rolls her eyes at me before sucking her teeth and then going to the bathroom. "OK, I'm being patient with your baby, and I completely understand you're upset. You got all pretty, and you can't go out, so how about we go do something, huh? Go on a date." I tell her to try to ease the attitude she is having now before I blow up on her. "First of all, fuck you. I'm not going anywhere with you, and second, I'm a grown ass woman. I can swear when I want to, especially when my girlfriend feels like being annoying, ok?" I clenched my jaw before yanking her towards me and shoving her on the bed. "Can't be fucking nice to you can I? You wanna go out and be pretty for your little friend ok. Let's make you look all pretty for her."

And that's how we ended up in this position, with her face down ass up as I shoved my strap into her back to back. I had pressed the record button on my phone a while ago, getting the idea of sending Kristen a little message to make shit clear. "Aww, come on, baby, your camera shy now. You usually love the camera. Love sha-aking your ass on people and all that stuff, don't you. Look at the fucking camera little girl." She glazes up through her lashes, looking so fucking ruined. Just how I like her. Eyes rolling to the back of her head after coming for the fourth time tonight. "Tired baby?" She moans out voice only able to produce moans at this point, she was all fucked out. But I had a point to prove. "How about you tell our little friend here who you belong to, baby?" I smirk, watching her start to scratch the pillows up again, gasping for her. Pushing into her slowly now while rubbing clit. Pussy all swollen, and dripping from the previous times she came. "Can you do it, baby, since you are so grown. Remember that?"

She started whining for me to go faster until I looked to up and seeing Kristen texted her. "Would you look at that baby, your little admirer misses you. I wonder where you are and why you're so busy." I make sure to thrust faster after each word. Her cries can be heard all the way outside the room. "S-soo.... s-sorry....pls." I smile at that, "Are you baby. Ready to be my little obedient girl again, aren't you. Just tell me who you belong to." She tries to hide in my neck away from the camera before yelling out. "M-Minah... Belong to Minah. All yours." I push myself up while grabbing her hips to thrust faster and play with her beautiful tits. I lean over, kissing her cheek before shoving my tongue in her mouth. "That's right, baby, my girl." By the time I was done with her, she forgot all about her plans with Kristen, we lay in bed cuddling while watching a movie, then I looked at the phone and sent the video to her, gotta make sure she understands. "All mine."

(Request by @itstherenaissance)

[m-for-musings]

BRAZILIAN FUNK STARTERS

I bring you some sentences sorted from unhinged brazilian music for your RP, enjoy!

You can check them all out in this playlist :D

!!!ATTENTION!!! I TRIED TO KEEP THEM AS SFW AS POSSIBLE BUT MOST OF THEM ARE SUGGESTIVE/EXPLICIT.

“Look at me, stare me down, I’m your prey. Swallow me whole, make me fit, go ahead, devour me.” —  Sagrado Profano (Luísa Sonza)

“You say there are no feelings involved, but when I sit you fall in love.” — sentaDONA (Luísa Sonza)

“Put your hands on the wall, I’ll make you feel strong.” — POC POC (Pedro Sampaio)

“If you want it, come and get it. Tonight, "can't" isn’t an option.” — PROIBIDONA (Anitta, Glória Groove, Valesca Popozuda)

“And tonight I wanna play with your lips, our playground, all night long.” — Playground (Vivi)

“I'm gonna shake my ass right in your face.” — Sua Cara (Anitta, Pabllo Vittar, Major Lazer)

“I told you it was gonna be just once, you promised not to fall in love.” — Ai papai (Anitta, MC Danny)

“Look at this bold-ass clown, now tryna act all flirty on me!” — Depois do Carnaval (Lexa)

“I want to mess around until the morning, I owe no one an explanation.” — Funk Rave (Anitta)

“Yo, hottie with that enchanted look, hop in my cauldron, 'cause tonight I wanna kiss a frog.” — AMEIANOITE (Pablo Vittar, Glória Groove)

“After 2AM, I know what’s waiting for me. In this state, I love to fuck around.” — Descontrolada (Pablo Vittar, MC Carol)

“If what goes around, comes around, baby, I’m around. But I’m around for the whoring, and now I’m here to stay.” — Eu Viciei (Lia Clark, POCAH)

“You’re trying to tie me down, trying to keep me tight. But I just wanna mess around, I’m single today.” — Bandida (Pablo Vittar, POCAH,  MC Mayara)

“This is your time to learn, class on sitting on you.” — TOMA (Luísa Sonza, ZAAC)

“Watch out, highly flammable substance here. Like magic, pyromancy, causing chaos!” — MIL GRAU (Glória Groove)

“Get that ass out of the couch and come dance!” — YoYo (IZA, Glória Groove)

“Not on, nor off. Mommy is torn between whoring and loving.” — Nem On Nem Off (POCAH)

“Tonight I'm going wild, french-kissing in loop. Come with me if you can keep up all night long.” — MODO TURBO (Luísa Sonza, Pabllo Vittar, Anitta)

“I’ve been wanting to see you for a while, sit back and relax with some wine here on my couch.” — VERMELHO (Glória Groove)

“I don't give a fuck, the vibe’s different now. I’ve gone wild, see you never.” — Quer Mais? (POCAH, MC Mirella)

“Let me remind you, I’m not obligated to anything, no one controls this ass.” — Não Sou Obrigada (POCAH)

“Tonight, no one's sleeping at home, tonight you're gonna be my toy.” — Hoje (LUDMILLA)

“Curiosity killed the kitten, but this big cat here is alive and well.” — A QUEDA (Glória Groove)

“R.I.P. to the bullshit, brush it off like cool whip.” — RIP (Anitta, Sophia Reyes)

“Go wild, turn around and put it down on me.” — Vai Malandra (Anitta, ZAAC)

“Come up to the lookout, I’ll fake you a romance. You’ve only got one shot at this.” — Rave de Favela (Anitta, Major Lazer, MC Lan)

“Even the hotties struggle, I'm broke as hell.” — GET UP BITCH (Anitta, Victoria de Angelis)

“The world’s falling apart, but we’re running this shit. Mess with me, you’re messing with the whole crew.” — Coisa Boa (Glória Groove)

“Come with attitude, all in, come closer, touch me. Tonight I want it, and you know I like it just like this.” — BANG! (Anitta)

“Hope you understand: my love is a whore’s love. Don’t go catching feelings, ‘cause this love is a whore's love.” — Amor de Que (Pabllo Vittar)

“You’re gonna lose it — I'm messing with your head with this killer body. My lips are fire, babe, there’s nothing like it.” — Corpo Sensual (Pabllo Vittar)

“If I was you and you was me, would you do what I'm 'bout to do?” — Onda Diferente (Anitta, LUDMILLA, Snoop Dogg)

“Don’t bother me, I’m blazing another one so I don’t lose my mind.” — Verdinha (LUDMILLA)

“Bark louder, I can’t hear you from here.” — Beijinho no Ombro (Valesca Popozuda)

“I'm gonna eat you, gonna lick you, and when I'm done, I'm gonna leave you.” — A Dona Aranha (Luísa Sonza)

"From far away, I spotted you, and it clicked. Got lost in the thought, wanting that sweet mouth of yours." — Joga pra Lua (Anitta, DENNIS, Pedro Sampaio)