#that's not the only thing i can't enjoy; watching tv takes the edge off at best; most other things are just too difficult

[sarahlancashire]

idk how to explain it but being very unwell physically is really fucking with my mental health; after a few days i felt really sad and like i was never going to get better, but increasingly i've had this kind of anxious paranoia (i'm anxious and paranoid a lot, but this particular feeling isn't like anything i've felt before) that everything is wrong and the world is evil and i just want to feel normal again

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER (day 4)

pairing: yelena belova x fem!reader - lingerie

summary: yelena is a serial killer in uniform, and that turns you on. you turn her on by wearing her favorite lingerie.

warning: yelena being a serial killer so.., mentions of murder, teasing, some dirty talk

word count: 1k

an: i´m on my knees for yelena, 25/8 or something like that

The sound of Yelena zipping up her tactical uniform pulls your focus away from the TV. You glance over to see her adjusting the straps, her movements smooth and precise. The dark uniform clings to her frame, accentuating her strong, toned physique, and it's impossible to ignore the confidence she carries. She´s going to work.

She catches you staring in the mirror, and a smirk spreads across her face. “Like what you see, detka?” Her voice is dripping with playful arrogance, knowing full well the effect her uniform has on you.

“You look good,” you murmur, biting your lip as you admire the outfit.

Yelena in her killer mode does things to you, things that you can't quite explain. The combination of her dangerous edge and casual confidence sends heat spiraling through your chest.

She turns around, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Good? Just good? I’m hurt.” She places a hand dramatically over her chest but quickly drops it, her smirk only growing wider. “I’m off to hang out with someone, you know… gotta make a lasting impression.”

You know exactly what she means by that. Another target, another "job." And you should probably be more concerned, but the way she looks right now? It’s hard to think about anything other than how hot she looks in that uniform.

“Make it quick,” you tease, your eyes lingering on her. “I get lonely when you're gone.” Your voice drops just a little, enough to make your meaning clear.

Yelena quirks an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your reaction. She walks over to you, her boots heavy against the floor. When she reaches you, she grabs your chin between her fingers, leaning down until her lips are just a breath away from yours.

“Lonely, huh?” she purrs, her voice low. “Don’t worry, dorogaya, I’ll be quick. Just gotta take out the trash first.” She presses a brief but heated kiss to your lips, her smirk evident even as she pulls away. “Try not to miss me too much.”

Before you can respond, she grabs her keys and heads for the door. You watch her go, admiring the way her hips moves just perfectly. As the door clicks shut behind her, an idea sparks in your mind—a surprise she won’t see coming.

By the time Yelena returns, the apartment is dark, only the soft glow of the bedside lamp is visible. She steps inside, perfectly composed, as if she hadn’t just taken someone’s life. Not a hair out of place, her uniform pristine. No one would ever suspect what she's capable of, but you know better.

She closes the door behind her, her sharp eyes quickly scanning the room. The moment she sees you, her lips twist into a smirk. “Oh-ho, what’s this?” she drawls, her voice carrying a note of amusement as her gaze roams over you, sprawled across the bed in her favorite lingerie. The black lace leaves little to the imagination, and the way her eyes darken as she takes you in sends a thrill down your spine.

“You like?” you ask, shifting slightly under her gaze, feeling the heat of her stare. You know you’ve caught her attention now.

“Like?” she scoffs, tossing her keys onto the dresser. “Kotenok, I love it. This is a very pretty way to come home after dealing with a… tough client.” The grin on her face tells you exactly how "tough" that client was.

She steps closer, her boots heavy on the floor, each step deliberate. “You know,” she continues, her voice teasing as she stands at the edge of the bed, looking down at you. “I should go out and kill people more often if this is the kind of welcome I get.”

You laugh, but it’s cut short when she reaches out, her fingers brushing against the lace of your lingerie. Her touch is light, but it’s enough to send a shiver through you.

“You wore my favorite,” she comments, her eyes locked on yours as she traces a path up your thigh. The teasing smirk on her lips never falters. “Trying to butter me up, huh?”

“Maybe,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady under her gaze. But Yelena knows exactly what she’s doing, and you can feel your confidence wavering as her fingers trail lazily along your skin.

“How thoughtful of you,” she murmurs, leaning in closer. Her breath is warm against your skin as she whispers, “But I think you’re the one who’s going to be begging for attention, kotenok.”

You swallow hard, your bravado slipping under her intense gaze. She tilts her head slightly, her smirk widening when she notices how your breath hitches.

“Aw, look at you,” she purrs, her tone a mixture of affection and amusement. “All this effort to look pretty for me, and now you’re nervous?” Her fingers brush along the lace at your waist, her touch light and teasing. “What happened to all that confidence earlier, hm?”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Yelena’s eyes glint with mischief as she leans down, her lips just inches from yours.

“That’s what I thought,” she whispers, her lips brushing against your skin. “I love when you try so hard for me. But let’s be honest… I like you even more when you can’t handle it.”

You shiver, feeling the weight of her words settle over you. Yelena’s hand lingers on your thigh, her touch sending heat through your body as her smirk deepens.

“Now,” she says, her voice low and playful, “why don’t you let me show you what happens when you look this good for me?”

Thank you for reading!!:)

[we-stan-the-stans-27]

Sleeping Beauty AU?

@sixerstanley Here had this HUGE big brain idea and I immediately sprung into action to write a little something about it.

Basically, they read a merlin fic where a spell made it seem like Merlin was dead, but he was basically asleep and aware of everything going on. Arthur was not having a good time. (trauma and pain ensues) I'm going to replicate it, based on the idea alone.

(Also, I had no idea this would turn into an almost 4k oneshot, oops! Color me inspired, I guess! I can do this, but not my actual fan fiction. LMAO!)

Suffer with me. (JK, enjoy. XD )

For the first time in weeks, Ford had allowed himself a full night's rest downstairs. Why not reward himself, just this once? The rift is sealed, the universe is safe, and things are slowly getting back to normal. Or as normal as they get in the pathetic excuse for what used to be his home.

Ford still has a hard time calling it what it is, 'The Mystery Shack' is a little on the nose, isn't it? The exhibits are hardly anything close to a mystery. They're botched taxidermy projects.

Insults. That's what they are.

A slap in the face to his life's work.

Whatever, that's not his problem right now. Coffee is the first order of business.

It's early and no one else is awake, but the coffee pot is still hot with a fresh pot. One cup appears to be missing. Stanley must be awake then.

Ford takes his time pouring the life-bringing liquid into his favorite cup (it is amazing Stanley didn't break it or lose it after all these years) and adding in ample sugar, and a dash of cream for color.

He adds a single ice cube to cool it faster, listening to the sounds of the house. It's silent, too quiet.

Ford can't help that even in a peaceful environment it puts him on edge.

The TV is off and a walk through the living room reveals Stanley isn't sitting on the couch. The first-floor bathroom light is off, door is slightly ajar, but empty.

That's weird.

He really shouldn't be looking for his brother anyway since the only good that will do is start another fight. It's too early for that.

Ford settles back in the kitchen, hovering near the window and sipping his cup watching the clock on the wall tic on. Minutes pass.

The silence is no longer just putting him on edge, it's sounding alarms.

Why? There is nothing dangerous here in the house, they are perfectly safe here now that Bill has been dealt with.

What then?

To put his own stupid mind to rest he leaves the empty cup in the sink and goes upstairs to the attic, checking on Dipper and Mabel.

They are both still fast asleep in their beds. Dipper, drooling on his pillow with half the blanket on the floor. Mabel, hair stuck up in all directions, clutching one of her many stuffed animals like it might try to escape.

Waddles is here too, curled up on its makeshift bed on the floor.

He stays just long enough to ensure they are all breathing, and sleeping soundly, before noiselessly going back downstairs.

The second floor is as empty as the first, including Stanley's poor excuse for a room. It is a mess of half-packed boxes, several trash bags, and the always-unmade bed.

Soon enough the house will be normal again.

Stanley will be gone, the kids will go home- (Perhaps they'll visit again next summer? It's a shame Dipper can't stay) and the Mystery Shack business will be over forever.

This once secluded corner of the valley will be that way again, his haven away from prying eyes. And tourists.

With the interior of the house cleared that only leaves the yard and porch.

Ford makes his way out onto the one Stanley finds the most use out of and the worry he hadn't realized to be carrying vanishes. There he is, sitting back dead asleep on the disgusting couch. How old is that thing? It appears to be growing several kinds of mold along the bottom because of the constant rain this region gets.

One hand is barely holding onto Stan's coffee cup, the arm of the couch holding it up while its owner sleeps.

"Seriously, Stanley? Being old doesn't give you an excuse to sleep anywhere, much less flash the local wildlife in little more than boxers." It's a good dig, in his opinion, and he speaks loud enough to rouse Stanley despite how hard of hearing he has become over the years.

Except no quick response comes.

Stanley doesn't so much as twitch in his spot on the couch.

The fear comes back-

Oh, don't be ridiculous!

"Very funny, Stanley." He lets the door close, quietly, before moving to stand in front of his brother, hands on either hip.

He looks, really looks, at Stan.

And sees nothing good.

The first notable, and most concerning finding, is that his brother isn't breathing. He waits, watching, assuming this to be a breath hold.

A joke.

But that isn't the only concerning evidence. Stanley's eyes are also halfway open, looking over the yard. Empty.

Not funny anymore, very much NOT funny!

Ford does not panic, not yet. He moves and picks up the cup, plucking it out of his brother's hand- It lacks any strength, like taking a toy from a child.

"Stanley? Wake up. Very good joke, you got me. Stop it now." He kneels on the couch, next to him, after setting the cup aside on the porch by their feet.

For the second time since coming home, Ford touches Stanley. This time with a kinder hold, reaching up to press two fingers along the pulse point between the jaw and collar bone, off to the side of the Adam's apple.

Nothing.

'One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten-'

He could count on one hand the number of times true panic has overtaken him in his lifetime. It isn't a luxury one can often afford when coming face to face with death constantly in the multiverse-

But what harm can come of it when someone is already dead?

His hand stays right where it is, tucked into the still-warm skin-

"No, this isn't funny-" But Ford's voice shakes and he snatches the hand away quickly. If he can't feel the lack of pulse, it's not there. Simple.

How didn't he notice? When did this happen?

What happened?

No- Ford turns, looking around the peaceful yard. Dew covers the grass, the sun peaked up about half an hour ago basking the clearing in pink and yellow hues.

There isn't any blood.

Death is messy. He has seen it countless times, but it is never, ever, peaceful. Knives, guns, cracking bones, broken bodies...

Looking back at Stanley none of that is present. The skin is still pink, and warm, eyes open but- Dead.

No. That can't be. It just can't.

Stanley looks almost peaceful, asleep. His coffee, barely a sip or two taken from the looks of it. "No."

Panic takes many different forms. Initially, instinctively, Ford looked for the cause. It had to be someone, something, who did this. Who took his brother?

But there is nothing, no one, in sight. No blood.

"Stanley, who-" His feet stop, body stalling, in the middle of turning back from the yard to look at the corpse...

He had been about to ask, to question who did this. But a dead body can't answer. A dead body, a corpse.

There is a distinction between a vessel and a person, or so Ford had always thought.

Everyone dies and until then you live inside and pilot your body. Someday, it becomes a corpse and you leave it behind.

That is such a cold and callous way to look at it, in retrospect. Because this, is Stanley. He's just- Gone.

With quick hands, Ford begins looking, almost in a frenzy, for the cause.

No blunt force trauma to the back of the head. No perforations to the abdomen, arms, nothing. There is nothing.

But that's not possible, people don't just-

Except they do. Sometimes-

No. NO! Not them, not him! Stanley Pines wouldn't just die, not without a fight!

Death doesn't play favorites, anyone can go, anytime-

"Shut up! No, he wouldn't! He wouldn't leave me!" It comes out in a shout and shakes him.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

He never allowed himself to think very far into the future, how could he? Everything was always changing and it was better to live in the now anyway. So long as you were safe now, other things could be handled later-

Except later doesn't always wait for you to be ready. Time has its own plans and you have to work around it or something-

Stanley wasn't supposed to die. Isn't! he can't be-

Except-

There are no obvious injuries, but then again there don't have to be. They may not be old, but they're old enough. Brain aneurysms take hold suddenly, killing the affected almost instantly.

Leaving barely enough time to set down a cup of coffee-

Or a heart attack?

No, Stanley would have come inside, asked for help-

Wouldn't he?

"You idiot!" It comes out in a hiss from where Ford has shifted. He's kneeling right next to Stanley, hand on either shoulder, looking at his half-open but- Dead. Dead eyes. Empty. Gone.

Soulless.

Ford isn't sure who he's talking to. Himself? or Stanley? Both?

"I would have helped you, we could have called someone, I-" He has to pull away, sinking down into the empty space of the couch to hide the tears springing up without permission.

This can't be happening. Things weren't supposed to end like this-

Oh yeah, how was it supposed to go then?

With you, kicking him out next week? Leaving him homeless, again, just like Pa?

"Stop it! I don't know, not like this!" Stanley was always the stronger between them, persevering through everything no matter what happened.

Is this my fault?

What a stupid question.

It forces him to sit up again, one hand covering his face while half peering out at Stanley.

Of course it is. What did you expect? That he would take his life being uprooted lying down?

Did he do this on purpose?

In the rush to pick up the cup of coffee Ford almost knocks it over but finds he can't hold it without spilling some of it over the sides, down onto the porch, anyway. He is left with no choice but to set it back down to avoid wasting the sample.

Maybe.

Ford takes both a physical and mental step back, leaning against one of the columns holding up the roof over the porch, to look around.

Breathing is getting a little more difficult, coming in tight short inhales and smaller and smaller exhales.

What better way to get back at me? Thirty years of a life spent learning math, science, and engineering skills well beyond any normal human's comprehension, for what?

To get a brother back who first chance he got told him to pack it up and get out?

"What kind of brother am I?"

The kind who would rather be right than-

Then apologize. Forgive. Make up. Let go.

And now, it's too late. The train left the station, Stanley is gone, and its all my fault.

"He died thinking I hated him." That realization is what breaks the decade-old dam, tears finally escaping. Ford closes the distance, sitting on the stupid couch and pulling Stanley over into a hug, even if he's not here to feel it.

The lack of strong, still buff, arms encircling him, returning the sentiment only makes him cry harder into the thin and crappy tank top Stanley must have worn to bed.

"I'm sorry." He chokes out between sobs, "I thought I'd have more time, you'd have more time. I didn't think- How could I?" Nothing he's saying is making much sense.

The ramblings of a heartbroken lunatic.

As if we really deserve to be upset, like you'd of cared if it wasn't life or death-

Maybe his own thoughts are right. If Stanley had been alive, sitting here, having his morning coffee they would have traded morning insults before going their separate ways.

But that's not the reality they live in. This one is much worse, much darker.

I spent so much time running away, trying to break apart, and be unique. No longer part of a broken pair, or what I saw as one, I-

"I never expected to miss it when the other half was gone." He is still shaking, refusing to let go, with thoughts still scrambled in a million different directions.

CPR wouldn't do any good now, although it's a nice thought. If Stanley came out here directly after preparing his coffee then that was almost twenty minutes ago, give or take-

Oh god. What about the kids?

Without letting go Ford checks the time on his watch, wincing. A few hours at most, but he'll have to call the coroner-

What does he do?

For the first time, possibly ever, Ford feels lost.

Not only because his twin is currently dead, which is already world-ending, but everything that comes with it.

Who does he say the corpse belongs to? Stanley Pines has been dead for decades-

Is that why he did this? So that Ford could slot right back into his old life, fixing the broken and shattered history? No. This had to be an accident-

Only the testing of the coffee will confirm it or not.

Ford has never had to stick around and deal with a dead body before. Moving on was easier, and necessary. He can't remember attending a funeral, other than their great aunts when they were barely seven.

That's not the same. He'll have to make arrangements, put together pictures, and give a speech-

About a life he knows nothing about.

"God, I'm sorry Stanley. I'm so sorry." It feels safe to let his voice break here. No one is around to see how completely destroyed he feels. "All you ever did was love me, and I pushed you away. I crushed it, refused, and now..."

"Now you're gone. I can't even remember the last time I told you that I love you, but I do. So much, more than I could ever handle." Ford can't let go, but he does shift back to look at his brother's face, holding his limp body with one hand and clearing his own tears with the other.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad I'm here. Thank you, for bringing me back." He has to close his eyes, fresh tear tracks spilling across both cheeks, "Even if only so I could say goodbye. I'm glad I got that, at least. If only you were here-"

With a broken voice, Ford can't stand looking at Stan like this anymore. He reaches up, closing both eyes with feather-light fingers, before leaning close to press them forehead to forehead. Just like when they were young. Before everything.

It's odd. How fast do corpses cool? Not that Ford is going to complain. It lets him pretend, just for a few more moments, that Stanley isn't gone. That they could have this again.

Too little, too late.

"I love you, Stanley." It comes out broken and cruel, like the universe is mocking him. What was the point in protecting them from Bill if death came knocking anyway?

For the first time since coming home, Ford understands.

Finally, he can see why Stanley wasted so much of his life trying to bring him back. Because he loves so much, so big. To his own detriment.

He would do anything, even destroy the world, to have Ford by his side again.

"I'm so sorry, you deserved so much better." How different could things of been?

What would Stanley of done instead? Gotten married? Had kids?

A better family, that's for sure.

Ford knows he can't stay here forever. He needs to let go, head inside, and make some phone calls. To tell Soos to close the shack for the day, get an ambulance to bring Stanley to the morgue.

He needs to prepare for when the kids wake up and figure out what to tell them.

But first, he indulges himself a little bit more by leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Stanley's lips. It smells of coffee, cigars, and denture cream, but Ford can't detect any sort of drug or chemical from close proximity alone. It's nice.

Not what you'd expect from a corpse, but it's enough.

A goodbye, a real one in a weird broken way. Just their luck.

The absolute last thing Ford expects, upon starting to pull away, is to feel the body still pressed very tight to his own take in a very deep breath followed by Stanley's discarded hands coming up to grab at him.

"Stanley!" His voice is still broken, mixed with anger and joy in a typhoon of confusion.

And Stanley? He has the nerve to laugh!

"Don't think you're walking away from that so easily!" No longer locked inside his own body without the ability to do anything it's a relief to be able to breathe. But even better, he can pull Ford over on top of his lap, locking one leg in place against the side of the couch.

"Excuse me! I thought you were dead! What the fuck, Stanley! You can't just go around pretending to be dead to mess with people! What if the kids had found you, or Soos, or Wendy?! You would have scared them half to death, you scared me half to death!"

Truly, it's a complicated story. One Stan is pretty sure Ford doesn't want to hear right now when his mind is running a mile a minute.

He has other things that need to be said instead of explaining whoever that weird wizard was who came out of the forest.

Forcibly Stanley grabs Ford's face, bringing him down so they are face to face again, leaving no room for argument in their close proximity. "Shut up, will you?"

Being locked in was sort of a blessing because participating in the conversation is so much harder than he thought it would be moments ago. He steals his nerves anyway, "I love you too, I'm not dead, and I'm pretty sure forty years should have made you a better kisser than that. Otherwise, I've got my work cut out for me. Try again."

By now Ford's face is bright red both out of anger at being tricked and embarrassment at their current position. But Stanley's hands are no longer weak, holding him tightly in place. Not that he seriously wants to argue anyway.

Stan waits, but the longer Ford stares, the more unsure he becomes. Maybe he misunderstood? Or maybe Ford just has a thing for corpses and now that he isn't one, the interest is gone.

Fair enough, Stan knows he isn't much to look at. Age wasn't as kind to him as it was to Ford. All lean muscles, few wrinkles, and barely greying hair. It's stupid, really.

It would be hypocritical to go right back to being mad, wouldn't it?

Just because Stanley isn't dead now, doesn't mean he won't be next time. Or the time after that.

Anything could happen.

Ford knows he should pull away. They should talk about what the hell just happened. He should move off his brother's damn lap!

Or, he could give in to the very thing he's spent two-thirds of their lives running from. The details and tough conversation can be hashed out later, right?

It's the hold on his jaw loosening that yanks Ford out of his spinning thoughts back to the present. Stanley is pulling away, looking down-

How long was he lost in thought? It couldn't have been more than twenty seconds. Did he change his mind? No, then why does he look so-

Well. Stanley looks the same as he always does.

Oh. Briefly, for a few seconds, Stanley was being brave. He opened up and showed his hand. Let himself be vulnerable.

Idiot!

His hands had never fully left Stan's shoulders, but he tightens their grip now, shifting one up to cup along the underside of his jaw. He doesn't feel the need to say anything, because neither of them has ever really been good with words.

He leans down, surprising them both, with a much more insistent kiss.

A hello. And maybe? A new beginning.

[ipseitydelrey]

if u ever get the motivation u should write an elle greenaway nsfw alphabet 👀👀👀

omg yesss, what better character to start out with than elle 🫶

nsfw alphabet ☆ elle greenaway

ship elle greenaway x afab!reader

warnings smutty smut smut, oral (giving and receiving), sex toys (dildos, strap-ons, vibrators), biting, mommy kink, masturbation, rough sex, slight exhibitionism, edging, quickies

a/n fun fact: in my textbook for my ethics in psych course, there are these small fictional case studies that you have to read and i kid you not, one of the names for an unethical therapist was "dr. romeo quickie." anyways, enjoy~

A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

sometimes when she's feeling a little energetic after sex, she cleans you up with a warm washcloth. but most of the time, you just fall asleep in each other's arms while she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and of yours)

she loves her mouth. she quickly noticed that whenever she talks, your eyes tend to fall to her lips and usually she would just say "my eyes are up here, babe." she also loves how her mouth anywhere on your skin just makes you want to do anything for her.

as for you, elle loves your thighs. whenever you two are sitting beside each other, maybe at a restaurant or on the couch watching tv, she tends to gently squeeze your thigh and rub her thumb on your skin. when she goes down on you, she loves to kiss and bite the inside of your thighs.

C = cum (anything to do with cum)

she wants to make you cum before she does so herself. her favourite place to cum on is your face, especially when she sits on it and has you eat her out.

D = dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

she knows how to lap dance...and she's damn good at it.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

oh no doubt about it. with both men and women too! in fact, even if you're also quite experienced, she definitely has a thing or two about sex to teach you.

F = favourite position (this goes without saying)

she loves sitting on your face. although of course, she also likes to seat you on her thigh and have you pleasure yourself by grinding against her.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

she's definitely more serious; her focus is all on you and how to make you feel good. rarely she would make jokes, but during aftercare, she's definitely cracking small sarcastic jokes.

H = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

she does shave, but she has a small patch of hair that she keeps well-trimmed.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

no rose petals, candles, etcetera, but she is tender and loving, even when she's rough. she's huge on consent, so she always makes sure you're okay with something and praises you when you say yes/no.

J= jack off (masturbation headcanon)

when she's away from you (or vice versa), she touches herself once or twice before she (or you) comes back. although sometimes she would send you videos of her masturbating. of course, if you send her nudes, she can't help it.

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

she's more of a top, but would be willing to bottom. she also loves marking you with hickies, bites, and more. she likes putting them in places only she can see and kissing them, sometimes even biting the marks to make you writhe.

L = location (favourite places to have sex)

cars. she loves how cramped they can be because it makes you two closer together. it can also get quite heated (literally) and sweaty, and she loves how you can potentially be caught.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

whenever you wear her clothes, especially dresses, she's turned on. she loves seeing you in her clothes (and she loves it even more when she takes them off of you). oh, and when you stand up to a bigot? she praises you for your confidence and absolutely rewards you for how strong you are.

N = nope (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

elle would never hit or hurt you at all. she also would never do edgeplay (i.e. guns and knives). as someone who regularly deals with unsubs, she doesn't want to put you in any danger that could remind her of anything she herself has been through.

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

let's be real: elle greenaway is a pussy eating god. she eats you out like a woman starved, and damn it feels so good. and yes, while she does love receiving, she loves giving you as much pleasure as possible.

P= pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

she loves being rough and fast because it makes you loud, but when she slows down, you can bet that it's to edge and make you beg for more.

Q = quickies (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

although she doesn't particularly favour it, quickies are quite common on account of how much she's away with the b.a.u.. she does make the most out of it though, because she does like going fast, but she still prefers to take her time and make you cum again and again.

R = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

knowing elle, she's all about risks. sometimes on days where you're visiting the b.a.u., she likes to tease you by small innuendoes and putting her pen near her mouth. when it's apparent you're hot and bothered, she takes you to the bathroom and eats your pussy out while you struggle to keep your moans to yourself.

S = sexts (yes? no? pictures?)

oh tons and tons of naughty texts are exchanged (phone calls too, which can sometimes escalate to phone sex). pics are definitely sent. when you started sending each other provocative pics, it began with tasteful pictures (clothed or if not clothed, covered with hands; cleavage, thighs, ass, etc.), but over time they escalated to full on nudes.

T= toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

strap-ons are elle's go to for pleasuring you (aside from using her tongue). she has a couple different kinds of dildos that she loves to use on you. she also uses vibrators, both on herself and you.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

elle loves to tease and edge you. it's so attractive to her when you beg her to let you cum or touch you. of course, she doesn't want to make it torturous for you, so she has you grind against her mouth/hands/strap-on until you're close...at which point she gives you what you want and makes you orgasm.

V= volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

she moans more than she whimpers. and while she isn't particularly loud, she makes it apparent that she's having a good time by having the sweetest wanton moans.

W = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

as someone who loves control, elle would love it if you decide to be the one in control for a night. she wants you to feel powerful and dominating in the bedroom (she mostly just wants you to ride her face).

X= x-ray (what's going on behind those panties)

again, small patch of hair she keeps neat and trimmed. other than that, her pussy is pretty and you love eating her out.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

with you, sort of medium to slightly high, but when she's away, high as can be. she misses you dearly when she's without you, so when she comes back, be prepared to not walk tomorrow. regularly she can go two to four rounds and she can definitely last a good while.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

she always makes sure you're comfortable and asleep before going to sleep herself. she cares for your wellbeing and wants you to know how much she appreciates and cares for you so after you have sex, you tend to fall asleep to the sound of her softly whispering "good girl, you're so amazing, you did wonderful..."

[neukdaez]

say my name

rating: explicit

member: euijoo

notes: song-inspired fic, fem!reader, brother's friend, acquaintances to lovers, kitchen sex, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, maki is your younger brother, appearance by nicholas

a/n: my birthday fic for euijoo! i know his birthday's done both in korea and in where i live lol but it's still the 7th somewhere!!!! the song i incorporated into this is deny's say my name, which is a taglish song but i included translations for the lyrics i used here. this is my first full one shot on this account too aaaa so please enjoy!

there's something inherently exciting about doing things you shouldn't do, in meeting people who are bad for you, in sneaking around behind shadows, ducking from sight as the adrenaline pumps through your veins.

your heartbeat is loud, but your footsteps are quiet.

hindi mo ba napapansin, kung ga'no kainit ang hangin? (don't you notice how the air's turned hot?)

we've all had those moments in our lives when we stare off into space, teetering on the edge of doing something incredibly reckless. a lot of us have these moments more than once. sometimes more than once a day. you've had your fair share of internal battles about a risky decision, but this is the first time you can actually feel the suffocation creeping up on you as you rattle off your internal monologue.

but first, you need to find maki and wring his neck.

your brother has a friend. nicholas. and nicholas, in turn, has another friend.

euijoo.

and maki being the outgoing person he is, quickly became euijoo's friend, too. nevermind that nicholas and euijoo are both four years older than maki and are in their junior year of college while your little weasel of a brother is still in high school.

he met them in dance class, apparently. and they're thick as thieves.

so much so that they're in your living room right now, hogging the couch while they watch dance video after dance video on the tv.

this isn't a particularly new scene to witness. maki invites them over at least twice a week, and thanks to your parents' taste for the grander things in life, your living room has more than enough space for a bunch of young men to do their thing.

again, what business two twenty-somethings have in casually coming to a seventeen-year-old's house to hang out is beyond you. but you digress.

because at least maki has the sense to make friends with cute guys.

euijoo stands out to you, in particular. you're not sure why but there's definitely something about him. maybe it's his eyes, round and cute, like little cartoon saucers. or maybe it's his height. tall men are always a plus.

whatever it is, it's what's causing your inner turmoil, the more rational part of your brain fighting it out with the part of your brain that just makes you want to throw yourself at him.

wait, what?

you're at the top of the stairs, in the tiniest tank top you own, and while your lower half is safely covered in your pajama pants, the tight fit around your waist might raise some eyebrows (or catch eyes). the reasonable voice in your head tells you to cover up. you have visitors, for god's sake! but the small, mischievous whisper tells you to fuck it, flaunt it all to your brother's hot friends.

maybe you're overthinking it.

except, you aren't, because you're not blind and definitely not stupid.

nicholas did a double take the first time you met them, eyes scanning over you quickly. he's been tame since then, only greeting you curtly, but with a friendly enough smile nonetheless. then he turns back to his phone, typing away furiously. probably texting a girlfriend.

but euijoo's eyes linger. and while that may not mean anything now, you know that men are simple creatures. sauntering in front of him wearing what you're wearing now will definitely have him looking.

maybe you want him to look.

kalamnan ay unti-unting 'di maramdaman, natitirang konsensya, 'di na rin nadatnan (can't feel my insides, can't find what little conscience i have)

you climb down the stairs, your footsteps emitting soft thuds on the carpeted floor. your eyes stay true toward the direction of the kitchen, but a movement by the couch makes you shift your gaze.

you catch euijoo's eye briefly as he cranes his neck to look at you. you're still walking, albeit a little slower now. you fight the urge to smile when euijoo lets his line of sight fall to your chest.

"hey guys," you greet nonchalantly, breaking eye contact with euijoo. you glance at nicholas this time, sitting alone on the single-seater. he smiles warmly at you, giving a small wave.

maki is too engrossed in his phone to witness anything that's happening around him, particularly with his doe-eyed friend beside him on the couch.

"can you get me a soda from the fridge?" maki calls out to you as you enter the kitchen. you roll your eyes. ugh, little brothers.

you throw the refrigerator door open, snatching the four-pack of sodas. you pull one out for yourself, kicking the fridge shut before heading back out to the living room.

you press your soda to your neck, exhaling at the sensation against your warm skin. you extend your hand between maki and euijoo from behind the couch, handing them the rest of the sodas.

euijoo takes them from you, hand brushing against yours, and god does it feel like a predictable spicy romcom moment.

"thanks," euijoo says in his sweet honey voice. his lips turn up in the smallest of smiles.

"you're welcome," you reply, keeping your expression mostly neutral, raising your eyebrows in acknowledgement.

you turn away, making your way back to the stairs. you start your ascent and just before you disappear into the second floor, you give one final peek over the banister.

euijoo smiles once more as your eyes meet.

---

you still want to wring maki's neck. but maybe also reward him with a fat wad of cash.

it's late into the night and you're sure euijoo and nicholas have left. you heard the front door slam open and shut about an hour ago and you're certain you heard maki enter his room a little after that. so you practically frolicked down into the kitchen, in dire need of a midnight snack. your parents are conveniently off at an overnight business function so no one would give you shit for banging around with the pots and pans.

you're in the process of rummaging through the ramyeon drawer, scrutinizing the different flavors, when you hear a noise behind you. your heart seizes up in your chest as you spin around, bracing yourself against the counter, eyes wide in shock.

"euijoo?!"

the young man stands in the kitchen doorway, clad in what you can only identify as sleepwear of his own. his face mirrors yours, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

"sorry, just wanted to get some water," euijoo quickly apologizes, holding his hands out defensively.

you exhale, stance relaxing as you watch him shuffle uncertainly towards the other side of the kitchen. the only thing that stands between the two of you is the kitchen island.

"maki didn't tell me you guys were sleeping over," you point out, ramyeon long forgotten behind you.

"then again, he never tells me anything," you add. euijoo chuckles.

he's retrieved a glass from a cupboard and before you can think further ahead, you reach over to the fridge beside you, ducking to get the pitcher from within.

it's now that you realize that you're practically sticking your ass out for euijoo to ogle at. you nearly giggle at the thought.

you straighten up, turning to place the water on the island. euijoo is leaning over the marble, eyeing you. you're not quite sure how his expression reads, but you smile politely, sliding the pitcher towards him.

"where's maki, anyway?" you ask.

"with nicholas. nico brought his car and they, uh...," euijoo trails off, silencing himself as he pours the water into his glass.

you cock your head to the side. "did you just send my underage brother out to buy alcohol?"

euijoo purses his lips, not saying a word. he clears his throat, seemingly suppressing a smile.

you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. opening your eyes, you see euijoo is looking at you over the rim of his glass as he drinks. you stare back, crossing your arms.

"well, i had my suspicions," you declare. "i started around his age, too."

euijoo nods, setting his glass down. "i see where he gets it from."

you narrow your eyes and euijoo looks back at you innocently.

"why didn't you go along with them?" you question, leaning over the island casually. you're still wearing the tank top from earlier and euijoo doesn't hide the fact that he's still looking.

to his credit, there seems to be the faintest blush on his cheeks. so, he's not completely shameless, at least.

"and leave you here alone? come on, i'm more of a gentleman than that," euijoo says, tone easy. he plants his hands on the island, mirroring you as he leans closer across from you.

i wanna do the things i never tried with ya', i wanna hear you say my name now, won't ya'

"that's very thoughtful of you," you supply appreciatively. euijoo smiles.

"the pleasure is mine, _______."

the sound of your name leaving euijoo's lips sends you back to the hypothetical edge, standing over a steep drop into shame.

are you really this kind of older sibling? flirting with your brother's friend, dressed in ridiculously thin clothing, practically laying yourself out on a big, wide, flat surface? you might as well spell it out for him at this point.

"when are they coming back?" you ask, resting your chin on your palm. you're properly bent over the island now. if euijoo had no idea a few minutes ago, he sure as hell knows what's up by now.

euijoo turns his back to you for a moment, placing the now empty glass in the sink. he looks down at you from where he's standing and glances away briefly as if thinking.

"in a bit," he begins, coming around the counter. your breath hitches as you follow him with your eyes, heart thumping as he stops behind you.

you turn, leaning back against the marble now as euijoo watches you. every blink, every time you shift your weight, every breath, it feels like he's taking it all in.

"it's a friday night, so the traffic might be hell out there," euijoo points out. "i'd say that's another twenty minutes or so. give or take."

baby, hindi na makahinga, i'm suffocating pero hindi masama (baby, can't breathe anymore, i'm suffocating, but it's not bad)

"what do you wanna do till then?" you press on, batting your eyes at the man in front of you. one side of his mouth turns up in a smirk.

he's cute enough that it looks almost endearing. but the sparkle in his eye points to something else.

"whatever takes twenty minutes or so to do," euijoo suggests with a raise of his brow. he steps closer and you're almost toe to toe.

i kinda like it, adrenalina'y tumatakbo, dibdib ay kumakabog, sa tubig kinakapos (i kinda like it, adrenaline's running, chest is pounding, running short on water)

you reach out but euijoo beats you to whatever you're trying to do. his hand circles your wrist as he moves even closer.

kalamnan ay unti-unting 'di maramdaman, natitirang konsensya, 'di na rin nadatnan (can't feel my insides, can't find what little conscience i have)

euijoo's other hand lays on your hip. he ducks his head so he's level with your face. you breathe in and euijoo grins.

isang utos mo lang, hindi na mahindian, bae (just one command and i can't say no to you, bae)

in your head, you're cursing how he's so stupidly hot and cute and charming at the same time that you'd have no problem doing whatever it is he wants you to.

"kiss me," euijoo dares, eyebrows rising for a second, as if in challenge.

it's embarrassing how loud you moan once euijoo's lips are on yours. your hands immediately come up to cup at his face and his own palms smooth around your waist, up your back, before descending again to ultimately rest on your ass.

euijoo is a damn good kisser and you can barely keep up with every slide of his tongue on yours and every pass of his lips over your parted ones.

euijoo's hands move to your shoulders, pointer fingers hooking through the thin straps of your top, pulling them down. you gasp against euijoo's mouth, your chest exposed in its near entirety.

you pull back, watching with labored breaths as euijoo tugs the front of your shirt down, letting one of your tits hang out. you bite your lip as he takes ahold of it, squeezing gently. his other hand maneuvers itself beneath the waistband of your pajamas, wriggling under your underwear, before finally finding purchase against the heat between your legs.

it's pathetic, really, how quickly you turn to putty under euijoo's touch. a man you've known for barely a few weeks, pulling at your every string, playing you like a fiddle.

"cute," euijoo murmurs, leaning in to plant a brief kiss on the side of your mouth.

euijoo draws small, tight circles on your clit and you squirm, knuckles white as you grasp onto the counter behind you. you tuck your chin against your chest, squeezing your eyes shut when you feel euijoo tease at your entrance.

euijoo's hold on your breast disappears and instead, he gently handles one side of your face, tilting your head up. you meet his eyes just as he plunges one finger into you.

your eyes flutter shut and euijoo kisses you again, hot and messy and slick with both of your spit. he adds another finger and you whine, hips stuttering against his hand. your knees feel weak and you're convinced they're ready to give out.

euijoo pumps in and out of your slowly, letting your wetness coat his fingers. he curls his digits just as he pushes up and you clench down, a pleasurable heat spreading across your body.

"fuck, euijoo," you whisper. he pulls back slightly, observing your expressions.

"tell me when you're close," euijoo instructs. his voice has dropped, making you shiver.

euijoo picks up his speed, curling his fingers periodically, movements almost calculated like he's done this a million times before. the thought of euijoo being experienced, mastering the ins and outs of this, makes your whole body prickle with excitement.

"c-close," you manage to whimper out.

euijoo maintains his speed but presses harder and harder each time against your spongy walls. you clamp a hand over your mouth as you feel your belly tighten.

"euijoo, i'm gonna—oh my god!"

your orgasm wipes all coherent thoughts from your head, knocking the air out of you in one fell swoop. euijoo wraps an arm around your torso, keeping you upright as you ride your high out on his fingers. he presses his lips to your temple as you start to calm down, chest rising and falling rapidly.

euijoo pulls his hand from your pajamas, holding your gaze as he licks his fingers clean of you. your face burns but you can't look away, mesmerized by the way his lips and tongue move.

don't gotta get emotions if it's okay with ya', but I might fuck around and catch feelings for ya'

euijoo smiles, eyes raking over your disheveled form.

"we better hurry," euijoo speaks up, dipping down to kiss you. you taste yourself faintly on his mouth,

you tug your pajamas and underwear down, letting them fall to the floor. you kick them off to the side, pulling back as euijoo does the same. your eyes travel down to see his cock standing red and angry against his stomach.

"like what you see?" euijoo asks playfully, a hand coming down to stroke at his shaft a few times.

you bite down on your lip, trying to suppress a grin. euijoo chuckles, large hands taking hold of your hips. he maneuvers you to face away from him, your front digging into the marble of the kitchen counter.

you lean forward, letting your front squish against the surface, back arched perfectly. you hear euijoo whistle lowly, a hand smoothing down your back.

"looking good, _______," euijoo compliments, knees knocking against your thighs, signaling you to part them. you adjust your stance, exposing more of yourself to euijoo.

"that's it," euijoo mutters and you feel something poke against your waiting hole.

you let out a mix of a sigh of relief and a choked-up sob as you feel euijoo push in. you crane your neck to see what euijoo's doing and his eyebrows are knit together, concentration on his features as he fills you all the way in.

you see his eyes roll into the back of his head as he bottoms out, hands automatically gripping at your waist, keeping you steady.

euijoo starts moving and your head drops onto the counter. the stretch feels euphoric, euijoo's cock dragging deliciously against your walls.

"euijoo," you whine. his hips snap up repeatedly, pace starting to pick up as he loses himself in your cunt.

"so good," euijoo whispers. "you feel amazing, _______."

you preen at his words, burying your face in your folded arms. the angle lets him hit that spot deep within you perfectly and you already feel the beginnings of your second orgasm creeping up.

you gasp softly as you feel fingers tangling themselves in your hair and you cry out fully when you feel euijoo tug your head back by your locks.

"fuck, come here, angel," euijoo implores, an arm around your midsection as he pulls you against him.

euijoo's holding you up all by himself and you let him, too weakened by the way he's fucking into you.

euijoo's movements quicken, thrusts turning shallow as he ruts against you. you wonder for a moment if it's possible to go mad over cock. the thought is a ridiculous one, but with the way euijoo fucks you, harsh yet contained, with all the finesse and enthusiasm combined, you start to think it might not be too much of a stretch.

euijoo presses his mouth behind your ear, sucking lightly and you shiver, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

"where?" euijoo asks, voice strained. it's obvious he's holding his release back.

it takes you a second to register his question and euijoo grunts softly, movements now erratic.

"where do you want it, angel?" euijoo repeats.

"inside," you say, walls clenching down as you feel your own orgasm approach. "please, inside."

it doesn't take long for euijoo's hips to stutter, fucking into you at a brutal pace for a few seconds before he stills, spilling himself deep in you. the feeling of him finishing inside sends you over the edge in turn, euijoo's name falling loudly from your mouth.

euijoo lets go of you and you slump over the counter, sweaty and spent. he slowly pulls out and you wince, pushing yourself upright with shaky arms.

"put this on, quick," euijoo reminds, handing you your underwear and bottoms. "before you, uh, make a mess on your kitchen floor."

you blush violently at his words, hurriedly pulling your clothes back on. euijoo does the same, wordlessly putting on his pajama pants.

you make eye contact and a second goes by without either of you saying a word. a moment later, the two of you burst out in silent giggles.

"i'd say that was about twenty minutes," euijoo comments, rubbing the back of his neck, a sudden shyness overcoming his demeanor.

before you can get a word out, you hear the front door slam open, hushed voices carrying through the house to the kitchen.

"_______? are you awake?" maki asks.

you and euijoo exchange a look.

[roseeyes]

Hey guys so this is part two to the Logan slow burn I was really excited to keep working on this so let me know if I should make more anyways here we go

Logan grumbled to himself, a low growl resonating in his throat as he tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter. The place was quiet, except for the faint sounds of movement from the other side of the apartment. He had agreed to take on a roommate—a necessity driven more by his need for privacy rather than any particular desire for companionship.

The door to the bedroom creaked open, and Logan saw her. She was in her early twenties, with an air of effortless grace and warmth. Her name was Y/N, and she had a serene presence that seemed to balance out Logan's gruff demeanor. She looked up from her book, her eyes meeting his with a curious glint.

"Morning," Logan grumbled, shuffling into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. "You sleep okay?"

Y/N nodded, her smile radiating a sense of calm. "Morning, Logan. Yeah, I slept fine. How about you?"

"Can't complain," he muttered, though his gruff exterior softened slightly. "The place is small, but it'll do."

Y/N chuckled softly, her laughter like a soothing melody in the otherwise tense environment. "It’s cozy. Besides, it’s only temporary, right?"

Logan grunted in agreement and poured himself a steaming cup of coffee. He wasn’t much for talking, preferring the solitude of his thoughts, but he had to admit—Y/N’s presence was a refreshing change from the usual. She was easy to talk to, and her calm demeanor seemed to smooth out the rough edges of his own personality.

Weeks passed, and Logan found himself adjusting to the new arrangement better than he’d anticipated. Y/N was a great roommate—neat, respectful, and with an uncanny ability to make small talk that somehow made him feel more at ease. They would chat over coffee, share the occasional meal, and watch TV together, though Logan was usually grumbling about the shows she picked.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, Logan returned home to find Y/N sitting at the kitchen table, her face illuminated by the soft light of a lamp. She was engrossed in a novel, but she looked up as he entered, her eyes filled with concern.

“Rough day?” she asked softly.

Logan shrugged, trying to brush off the discomfort of the day’s battles. “You could say that.”

Without a word, Y/N stood up and began preparing tea, her movements graceful and soothing. Logan watched her for a moment, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and it both comforted and unsettled him.

“Tea’s almost ready,” Y/N said, glancing back with a gentle smile. “It’s chamomile. Thought it might help you unwind.”

Logan sat at the table, feeling the weight of his weariness lift slightly. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

As they sat together, sipping tea and talking about mundane things, Logan realized how much he had come to enjoy these moments. Y/N had a way of making the world feel a little less heavy, and for someone like him, who had always carried his burdens alone, it was a rare and precious gift.

Months turned into a comfortable routine. Logan found himself looking forward to coming home, not just for the solace of his own space but for Y/N’s company. They had developed a friendship that was both grounding and exhilarating. Logan, who had always been guarded, found himself opening up more, sharing stories from his past and even some of his struggles. Y/N listened with genuine interest and empathy, never pushing but always present.

One evening, as they sat on the couch watching a movie, Logan noticed how close they had become. Y/N was nestled beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. He could feel the rise and fall of her breath, and it was strangely comforting. The movie played on, but Logan’s mind was elsewhere, lost in the realization that his feelings for Y/N had deepened into something more than just friendship.

He shifted slightly, causing Y/N to stir. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his with a warmth that made his heart skip a beat. “Logan? Is everything okay?”

Logan hesitated, his usual confidence wavering as he tried to find the right words. “Y/N, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say…”

Before he could continue, Y/N placed a gentle hand on his arm. “You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready.”

The simple gesture, combined with her understanding, made Logan’s heart ache with emotions he wasn’t used to confronting. He took a deep breath, his rough exterior momentarily giving way to vulnerability. “I care about you, Y/N. More than I thought I could.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she moved closer, her hand still resting on his arm. “I care about you too, Logan. A lot.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Logan, usually so self-contained and stoic, found himself opening up to the possibility of something more. It was a new and frightening territory, but with Y/N by his side, he felt a glimmer of hope.

As the days went by, Logan and Y/N’s relationship deepened. They spent more time together, both in their apartment and out in the city. Their bond grew stronger with each passing day, and Logan found himself falling for Y/N in ways he had never imagined.

One crisp autumn evening, Logan and Y/N took a stroll through Central Park, the city lights casting a warm glow over the trees. They walked in comfortable silence, each step a testament to their growing connection. As they reached a quiet spot by a serene lake, Logan stopped and turned to face Y/N.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft but earnest. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About what we have.”

Y/N looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and hope. “And what have you been thinking?”

Logan took a deep breath, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and anticipation. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that I want you in it. I care about you more than I ever thought possible.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with emotion, and she reached out to take his hand. “Logan, I’ve never met anyone like you. You’ve shown me a side of life I never knew existed. I want to be with you, too.”

The words were simple, but they held a depth of feeling that transcended any grand gestures. Logan pulled Y/N into a gentle embrace, his heart swelling with a love he had fought so hard to keep at bay.

As they stood there, holding each other against the backdrop of the city, Logan realized that he had finally found something worth fighting for—a love that was both unexpected and profoundly real. And in Y/N’s arms, he knew that he had finally found a place where he truly belonged.

Hey guys so idk if Wade is gonna be in it anymore but if you wan more of this let me know if I should write more

Xoxo

[perpetuallyfive]

did you think act 2 had a dip in quality when in comes to writing? i've seen so many people complaining and i can't, for the life of me, understand why, apart from people having these really personal expectations that weren't met (vi's pitfighter era being just the montage, caitlyn not spelling out her inner turmoils, isha's entire existence, jinx being family oriented instead of a freedom fighter, sky is also pissing people off lol), and I'm just so confused bc idk if I'm just easier to please, or if my lack of expectations just allowed me to enjoy the story plain and simple

I think there's a fair chance that many of the people complaining didn't watch season 1 until all three acts were released and aren't used to watching Arcane as a week to week experience; a huge percentage of the people in this fandom only joined it around the time they saw an "oil and water" gif set. No shade, of course. I can understand why people weren't jumping to watch women written by Riot, but that does color how you're going to view the pacing of a season.

This very well might be the first time a lot of those complaining built up expectations of where the story would head next, how they'd watch the struggle play out between Zaun and Piltover, only to see things they wanted to watch in depth get covered in a montage.

The fact that a single montage tells us everything we need to know about where Vi is at and what she's been up to is actually good, economical storytelling, but that's not the kind of thing people are used to in most shows. If you go back and watch the pilot of Arcane, so many things happen in that one episode. You get almost a full season of TV in a single 42 minutes of Arcane. A lot of other shows are just filling time, running in place until one of the two or three big moments for the whole season can happen a few episodes later.

That's not how Arcane works now or ever.

I imagine if some people had watched season 1 week to week — with lots of time to imagine what came next while at the edge of their seat — they would have been upset that we never saw the three youngest girls growing up. Act 1 ends with this huge cliffhanger and then we jump an unspecified amount of time into the future. We don't spend time with Vi in jail, we don't actually see any of the trauma alluded to. We don't see the tension in Caitlyn's relationship with her mom and how that plays out over time, which is a pretty huge part of season 2. We don't see Jinx's transformation into the damaged girl she becomes. All of that happens off screen and is only implied.

The techniques people are complaining about this season are exactly the same as last time, when they loved the show. But if you watched everything all at once before — no time to build up an imagined result that didn't pan out — and were reassured by how much you liked the payoff, then maybe you didn't even notice these things that you can hyper analyze while you wait 7 days for the next drop.

Hell, I saw multiple people surprised that introducing tension into Vi and Caitlyn's relationship has already paid off so well because it led to, you know... tension. Some people are so used to shows not doing anything that they are surprised when actually doing things can turn out to be interesting.

I think a lot of the things you say people are complaining about are probably going to be covered in act 3. Jinx has always been family oriented. She only cared for the found family she had with Vander, and then Silco took that place. She didn't give a shit about anyone else working with him, and actively made their lives harder just for fun. It's going to take some effort and time to move her from that pretty self-interested place she's always occupied to being some kind of freedom fighter risking herself for strangers, and Isha was a vital part of getting her there.

I also think there's a really strong chance that isn't even Sky, but rather a manifestation of her created by the Hextech/Void/Whatever that consumed her using her as a puppet to manipulate Viktor into spreading its influence further and faster. But who knows! There's an entire three episodes left and, again, a single episode of Arcane covers so much and always has. None of us can actually know where the stories will be one episode later, let alone three.

Look, for all I know, this might not pan out. We never know if a show is going to stick the landing one season to the next. But they're not really doing anything differently from last time, so I don't see a reason to panic or complain yet.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

hey hey hey I have had a hell of a day (Actually Hell) because I did too many fun things (a problem apparently) and then also we put up the christmas tree leading to the inevitable christmas tree installation arguments (they pop up every year like clockwork!)

anyway i have been overstimulated and stressed (just want to emphasize that there is NO pressure here whatsoever! id like to avoid any semblance of that actually and I know you're already working on 12 days so take your time) and it would be very cathartic to see chris dealing with similar issues (the Wonderful guy. we are pretty similar.) thanks a lot for reading this, even if you don't write anything !

Sorry this took so long, Anon! I swear I've been trying to get this written for literally almost two months now

CW: Some references to Chris's past, overstimulation, anxiety

"Hey, where did Chris go?" Laken blinks and looks around, but the living room of the house they rent - filled with laughing, happy people - shows no sign of Chris's telltale lavender hair with its new-penny copper roots.

One of Brit's friends just shrugs at them and gestures, vaguely, in the direction of the kitchen. "Dunno. He wandered off a while ago, maybe that way?"

"Oh, okay. Huh." Laken steps back, the circle of laughing people closing up tight as soon as they do. Their dark eyes scan the room, but there's no sign of him.

He'd been doing great - all but holding court, one of the most popular people at the party. He's sort of famous, since the Olympics, and people had been peppering him with questions and compliments, crowding around wanting nothing more than to be friends with the ex-pet who stood up to the bad guys on live TV. They'd seen him dancing, too, the music loud enough to nearly make the walls shake. The easy, unselfconscious dancing they loved in him the most.

He'd seemed to be enjoying himself, at the time, but...

Where has he gone?

They weave around people, stopping to pick up an ornament that has fallen off the tree. The scent of pine is subtle and ever-present, and they carefully work the ornament's little loop back over a branch, ruefully watching a couple of pine needles come loose and drift down. The damn thing is already starting to turn a little brown around its edges, thanks to Laken's roommate having insisted on buying it literally the day before Thanksgiving.

Laken doesn't even celebrate Christmas, not since they stopped going to Mass on Christmas Eve years and years ago. Still, in a house they rent with three others, they're the only one who doesn't at least pay lip service to the holiday.

And even if they don't give a fuck about Christmas, they do like having an excuse to throw a party.

The tinsel wrapped in spirals around, over, and below the ornaments glitters in the light, and the look makes them think of Chris, and how his eyes have always looked just the same, to them, when they're out at night and the moon hits the green of his irises just right.

Their search leads them to Ben, contentedly sitting on the couch, a drink in one hand and his phone in the other, quietly reading something there while the party is in full swing around him. He glances up and then instinctively, immediately, uses a finger to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Hey, Laken. What's up?"

"Is Akio not coming tonight?"

"Oh... no." Ben blushes - it's adorable, and Laken can't help the smile playing around their lips. "He's got some kind of meeting with the gymnastics team, or his coaches? Or... something like that. He said sorry, though."

"Nah, no problem. But, hey, so. Uh, have you seen Chris, like within the last ten minutes or so??"

Someone puts Christmas music on and Laken shudders as they hear that damn 80s pop song start up again. If they have to hear that fucking song one more time...

"Nope. Not in a while." Ben shrugs, taking a drink. Whatever he has in that cup is pinkish-red and probably far more alcoholic than it tastes. Laken's roommate had insisted on a signature cocktail. "You could check outside? Sometimes when there's a lot of people, to Chris it's... too much."

Laken nods, still scanning the crowd, but their stomach knots a little with the first hit of real anxiety. Ben is right, Chris can get overwhelmed by too much noise and movement, but also he's been drinking tonight - they saw the same red punch in a cup in his hands earlier - and he has a tendency to get... hazy, when he drinks. Flirty in ways that aren't natural to him. Willing to let people hug him that he doesn't like, unable to bring himself to stop them. Sometimes his stammer smooths out, which makes people who don't know him feel more comfortable and people who do know him nervous. He starts tipping his head to the side in a way that makes the sweep of his growing-out hair hide the scar on his forehead, biting his lower lip when he smiles. It makes Laken feel a little sick to see it happen and realize Chris doesn't even notice when he's doing it.

The last thing they need is to have to come up with an explanation for Chris losing track of himself again, or why he's eating olives off the charcuterie board Brit brought knowing damn well he'll just go to the bathroom and get sick all over the place again, or... fuck, what if somebody hits on him and he's too drunk to stop it?

That hasn't happened since college, but...

They pull their phone out, uneasily checking for a text, but there's nothing. If he went outside, he'd text, right? He does, he always does. Texts can be easier and Chris is always a little nervous about being outside alone.

He insisted on coming tonight, said he was feeling good lately, but-... what if-...

They flinch when fingers touch their arm, only to see Ben must have stood up when they weren't looking. He slips his own phone into his jacket pocket and looks Laken over more closely. "Hey. It's okay, he's probably fine. You know he gets weird when parties are really going. It's like a light switch, enough to too much, I totally get it. It's why I'm on the couch fucking around on Kindle instead of, you know... talking to people." Ben says it like talking to people is literal hell, and... okay, Laken can see how that might be the case. "He probably just needed to get away from it and wandered off."

"Uh, yeah. I know." Laken rubs at the back of their neck, fingers moving through the soft, shorn undercut beneath their longer black waves. "I'm sure that's it. Just... you know, sometimes he... when he gets nervous..."

"I got you." They adore Ben, sometimes, for how often they don't have to finish the sentences they don't want to say. He knows what words haven't yet spilled, unwilling. Sometimes he acts like he belongs to us, not like he loves us. Sometimes I can't trust him to find his way back on his own. Sometimes I feel like Jake, and I hate feeling like Jake.

Words die in their throat.

Ben squeezes their arm, gently. "Let's split up and search around. I'll go outside, you go around the house, okay? We verify how he is, then whichever one finds him tells the other. Sound good?" Ben smiles, and Laken relaxes a little, finding a smile for him in return.

"Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, Ben."

"No problem." Ben has always understood Chris, thanks to his little brother being similar in some ways. He understands Laken's worry, too, because better than anyone else here - he knows how Chris sometimes gets lost in his past, especially if he's drinking, worse the maybe twice Laken's ever seen him try an edible or a pill.

What if he got drunk and someone offered him something and he took it? Drunk Chris sometimes isn't a Chris who can easily turn down anything he's offered.

This party was a stupid idea.

Laken takes a deep breath and squares their shoulders.

Chris is not a child.

He is a goddamn grown man and Laken is not his keeper. They're not his parent and they're not a babysitter. They're definitely not his fucking... owner or whatever the bastards that hurt him would have called it. They're his partner. He can handle himself, better than they could if they'd lived his life, and they need to trust him to either know his limits and to get away if he can't say no, or to come to them if he wants to ask for help. Otherwise, they're not any better than the bullshit he's been buried in for longer than he's known them.

Ben goes to check outside, slipping silently out the sliding door onto the back porch where a small crowd has congregated in a cloud of skunky smoke, while Laken heads upstairs, peeking their head in to room after room with no sign of him anywhere. They see some movement under a pile of coats, but that's... definitely not Chris, based on the very female voices who yell at them to give them some fucking privacy, please.

"Sorry, Brit," Laken calls, closing the door tightly. "And, um, Leigh. Just looking for Chris-"

"Well, he isn't in here or we'd have kicked him out already," Brit says, cranky but without any real anger in her voice. Laken doesn't recognize the redhead whose eyes pop up from beneath the pile of coats next to her. "Check a different room."

"Yeah, I will. Uh... keep having fun, I guess-"

"That's the plan! Now leave, please!"

The door latches as they close it, and they exhale. There's one room left, at the end of the hall, and they can hear a familiar murmuring from behind the door when they press their ear up against it.

Laken knocks, rapping gently with their knuckles, and turns the knob when they hear no answer - but no demand to stay out either. The murmuring goes silent. They sigh, and the door swings open, light cutting across the carpet until it reveals their wayward boyfriend.

No one has claimed this bedroom yet, so it's bare and empty except for a couple unpacked cardboard boxes, Brit's exercise bike by the window, a couple of her yoga mats, a laundry basket with a few folded towels, and a bare mattress the last housemate had left behind on the floor when they moved out.

Laken's lips press together, eyes scanning the room. Chris's phone is on the mattress, along with an empty beer bottle, but Chris isn't. "Chris? Cariño?"

A muffled rustling makes them jump, heart in their throat, and then they realize the sound came from the closet, where the folding doors are closed. Laken pulls them open to reveal Chris curled up, knees nearly to his chin, an open bottle clutched in one hand, his chewy necklace in the other. He'd chosen the bat one tonight, and his hand is closed around it in such a tight fist Laken can tell his knuckles are white even in the dark.

Chris doesn't look at them. He's swaying, rocking forward and back, his eyes focused on something far, far away from them. There's red lines on his left wrist, where he's dug his nails in, scratching not quite deep enough to draw blood, but close. Laken takes a deep breath, shifting into a crouch.

"Talk to me, Chris."

"No." The answer is flat, and they watch his thumb rub over the little nub of the silicone bat's nose, the points of its tiny ears. "No, no, no. No."

At least he's saying it out loud.

That alone makes the knot of anxiety in their chest start to loosen. If he can say no, he isn't gone, maybe just... standing a little farther back, inside his own head, than the surface.

"Okay. Okay, that's fine. No talking, that's fine. Are you okay, baby?" Laken keeps their voice just above a whisper and lays their hand on the wood trim that frames this shitty excuse for a closet, the floor creaking under them. "You... kind of vanished on me, there."

Chris's eyes flick to them and then away again. "Loud," He manages, and he sounds like he's forcing the word out between gritted teeth. Maybe he is. "Too, too, too... too loud. Too much, too... many."

"I guess Ben called it." Laken sighs, pulling out their phone and sending Ben a quick text that they found Chris and everything's fine. they get a thumbs-up in reply almost immediately. Ben must have been as anxious as they are, if he was just watching for their text to come in. "Do you want me to call Jake to come get you, or..."

"No!" He snaps it, and Laken tries not to wince. He's just struggling with the noise of the party, they tell themself, he's not actually angry. Chris almost never gets angry, and even then it's only at himself. Which... is worse, somehow. "No. Just... Quiet, it's... it's it's quiet."

"Right. Do you want me to stay with you? Be quiet with you?"

He shakes his head, but he doesn't say anything else. His mouth moves, but no further sounds come out.

"Chris, did..." They want to ask, did someone say something to you? Sometimes people said things, referenced pets or something in a way that set him off. But even if someone had... he probably wouldn't tell them, at least not now, not when every word seemed to have to filter through layer after layer of self-protection in his mind. "Never mind. Is there anything I can do for you? Water, or..."

He shakes his head. "No. Just. Um. Quiet... quiet, now. Please?"

"Yeah." Laken leans over and presses a kiss to his hair. He tips his head against their lips and they exhale in relief. "I love you, Chris. Come back if you can, but if you can't, that's okay, too. Just don't hurt yourself, okay? Things should start winding down in a couple hours." They take the little plastic bat and push it against the hand that's still scratching at his shoulder, until he takes hold of it again, pressing it against his mouth and running it back and forth, back and forth.

Chris is quiet, but as they open the door to head back into the hallway, they hear a quiet, "Love, love you," from Chris, barely audible.

They smile as they close the door. Down the hall, the sounds of the party hit them like a brick, beckoning them back to the noise and the cheer and the awful fucking Christmas music still blaring at top volume. Someone yells something out and the whole damn crowd cheers, making Laken wince at it feels nearly deafening.

Maybe Chris has the right idea.

-

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @whumpyourdamnpears @cubeswhump @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

[candiid-caniine]

ugh, i want technology to catch up with my fantasies so badly but i'm ahead of my time, it seems.

there should be some kind of machine that keeps me maintained, for lack of a better word. something that auto-doms, that subjugates effortlessly, and isn't that degrading--the idea that sometimes a human can't be bothered to deal with me themselves. sometimes my superiors just want to kick back with a cold one and enjoy the show.

the base parts would be restraint, stimulation, and flexibility. want to alternate between edging and pain without straining your wrists? there's a preset for that, fine-tuned for my biometric profile. want to keep me in a stress position for time-out? restraints in multiple configurations, attachments for gags, punishment programs. need a hands-off way to brainwash me stupid, drooling, and nonverbal? strap me into the VR hypnosis rig, complete with constant low-grade teasing, and go about your evening.

i imagine being strapped into this rig on a lazy night when my dom wants all of the fun, but none of the effort, or would simply enjoy some high-quality begging. they strap me in to the restraints in a configuration that spreads my legs wide, my holes on display, then select the programming for the evening.

mechanical arms crowd in with the first implements: a slim, vibrating probe enters my ass, and another descends on my clit, teasing around it and up and down my cunt, which is already dripping. another set of arms start stimulating my breasts, massaging the nipples methodically, maddeningly, and it's a matter of minutes before i'm straining against the bonds, seeking more. they barely creak. my dom reclines on their favorite chair, watching me with lazy interest. i'm ungagged, so i know they want to hear begging, and i'm quick to start. i always beg to cum. it never gets me anywhere, though.

they laugh at me. "don't be silly, pup." those teasing arms get me right to the edge, then punish me with a sharp burst of pain: a pinch on the clit, a zap to the nipples, maybe. quick as they stopped, they work me back up again. i know this program, the basic parts of it, at least--it changes things up each time, but i know what's coming, and, sure enough, the machine starts a strategic series of moves designed to keep me right on the edge, and no further. i miss the early days when it didn't have such complete knowledge of me, when it still messed up once in awhile.

i grapple for my thoughts, the last thoughts i'll have for awhile. my cunt is still empty, so maybe they want me to beg them to fill it. i start begging for their cock, debasing myself further and further as my desperation hits a manic edge. please fuck me turns into please i need your cock turns into please fill up all my holes i want to be your little whore please gods please let me earn your cum. "you're so cute," they coo, wandering over to the machine and raising their hand towards my face. i strain to lean into their touch, but they pull away, a smirk on their lips, and return to their seat. they start playing games on their phone.

i've been on the edge for minutes now, minutes in the double digits. i start to beg them to turn it off. whatever it takes, i just want it to end. it's maddening: an orgasm is so close i can taste it, could have it if i could only lean into the vibration just a little. my dom is so close, within arm's reach, if i could even use my arms! it's around minute 30 that i start to cry, my voice breaking with every mindless word coming out of my mouth. i barely hear what i'm saying, but it's something like please sir please fuck i can't i can't i need please fuck, incoherent and useless. they pick up the remote and turn the TV on. every once in awhile, their eyes flick to me with vague interest, and i start to cling to those moments, counting the seconds until they do it again. 10, 11, 12...10...no, was it...it must be 20 by now. what comes after 20?...11, 12....

before i ever realize it, my mind is gone. all that's left of me is the bleeding edge, my world shrunk to the aching radius between my legs and the tugging thread between their eyes and mine. i stopped saying actual words forever ago. has it been hours? time doesn't mean anything to a creature like me anymore. there is only Now. they bring me a cup of water, and i suck it down only because it's what they want. it's mindless. i'm broken.

it takes me ages to register that the stimulation has stopped, that the TV is off. my chest is cold and damp--i've drooled everywhere, and my eyes won't focus. i whimper as feeling returns to my arms and legs, the restraints undone, and i spend blissful, warm, drifting moments coming down in their arms. i feel safe, and so, so tired. "good job, sweetheart," they murmur. "i'm proud of you, you know? you made it a whole hour this time." no, it was much longer than that...wasn't it??

"let's try for two tomorrow, hm?"

[themultifandomgal]

Finn Cole- Red Carpet Interview

Finn and I exist our car together ready for our season 5 premiere and interviews. I smooth out my dress before taking Finns arm and we make our way down the carpet taking photos and doing interview

"Hi, how are you both this evening?" One of our interviewers asks

"We're good thank you, excited for tonight" I smile replying

"Watching the show it's about the Shelby family, but I get the impression you guys are actually a family off screen. You both seem to be with Harry a lot when your not filming"

"Yeah we're definitely a family, and I think we're lucky that we can say that" Finn says with a hand now around my waist

"Harry and I are the closest in age he's only like a year older than me so we have really grown up together from season 1. I always say that Harry is my annoying twin, Cillian is the dad, Paul the cool uncle, Sophie is my big sister and Jos like a brother to me"

"A real family then. I guess that makes filming so fun and easy for you guys?"

"Definitely. I can't imagine working on a set we're you haven't got these friendships" Finn replies

"I have to say in the last season we saw YCN toughen up a bit, will that continue throughout the next season?"

"For sure. We are going to see a lot of different things that YCN will struggle with which makes her really angry I guess and at times she will loose her cool"

We're then moved on to our next interview

"Hi how are you doing?" we're asked again

"We're well thank you"

"It's so lovely to see everyone coming out and dressing up. I've seen some people in period clothing"

"Oh wow I love that"

"That's brilliant. That's what we've, we've created a show we're people can get involved and can dress up and can enjoy it for the same reasons we can enjoy it and it's a really special thing in tv..." I see Natasha walk over to us smiling

"Oh hello" I smile interrupting Finn

"Hello" she smiles back

"Sorry babe carry on, I get distracted so easily" I tell the interviewer who laughs

"We we're just saying how nice it is to see everyone dressed up"

"Oh I love it, and the vibe, I wash just told that this is where they would stand to sign up for the war. And since the show focuses so heavily on PTSD it's really quite emotional" Nat says

"As actors what is it about Stevens writing that jumps out of that script when you first see it"

"Oh I only read my parts" I joke but don't last long because I start laughing "No I'm kidding. Erm for me it's how I'm kept at the edge of my seat. Like I can't ever predict what's going to happen"

"You can hear the music coming of the pages"

"It's one of those experiences reading something where it's so visual but every sentence is so exciting" I nods agreeing with Finn

"YN in season 4 we finally got to see YCN fall in love. Will that transpire into this season?"

"Yes. Unfortunately Jordan had brier engagements so wasn't able to film with us anymore so Daryl was casted and he's just slotted right in with all of us"

"What about Micheal. Will we get to see him fall in love this season?"

"Ah that you'll have to wait and see" Finn says making me chuckle because his answer basically was yes.

Move move on to another interview this time just Finn and I. This time it's an interviewer who has interviewed me since season 1

"It's good to see you both again"

"It's good to see you as well. How have you been?" I ask

"I really good thank you. You know I look back at my old interviews with you all and everyone looks practically the same, but then there's you and Harry who now look like actually adults" I laugh at her making the comment

"I know it's crazy. We filmed the pilot when I was 12 and now I'm 20 so it's crazy that nearly 10 years I've been with these guys"

"Well what is the dynamic like on set of a program of a drama like peaky blinders because it's very intense"

"Oh it's horrible" Finn jokes earning a nudge off me

"You know what's weird we would be doing a really intense scene but the moment we hear cut, we all burst out laughing" I say smiling "in season 4 I had to throw a drink at Lizzie but I only really had one chance so we did it over and over again with an empty cup. Then when we were ready we did it for real and I felt to bad. So as soon as we stopped filming I hugged her and kept apologising while Nat was just laughing the whole time"

Finn and I finish up with more interviews and some photos, watching the first episode of season 5 and then finally going to a little after party with all of the cast.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Sneaking Glance

Sonny Carisi x GN! Reader

Summary: For a week you hadn’t been able to have Sonny's hands on you, but tonight all you could stare at was his lap, so you chose to make the first move.

Warnings: Slight Smut

Minors do not interact!

Sonny kept his eyes on the road as he drove you both home. He had picked you up from your work after his. You shared a car with each other, and depending on when you got off, either you or he would pick up the other.

You kept your hands in your lap as you stared at him. Sonny talked about his work, but you tuned it out. Though you had been dating him for two years, your sex life had not been as active as it used to be in the last week. Sonny was so calm he hadn’t made a move, but you did, but you could see he was tired most of the night, so you stayed distant.

Tonight you made a plan to try a bit harder, but if he didn't want to, you would have to wait again. Sonny looked over at you, pulling you from his thoughts. As he got closer to your shared apartment, he put his hand on your thigh, making you bite your lip. He drove up the street, parking the car on the side. He talked on more before getting out of the car and quickly making his way to your door.

Opening the door, he watched you get out and bring the takeout he had gotten for the both of you. You walked to the door, and Sonny opened it quickly to get you both out of the cold of the night. You rushed to the couch, setting the takeout on the coffee table, turning on the TV, and unpacking it before putting it in front of his empty seat.

Sonny was in the bedroom but came back out wearing only his button-up and pants. He sat down with a sigh and dug into his food. His eyes were quickly drawn to the screen as he ate his dinner, unknowing that your eyes were catching glances at his lap. How he sat always made you crazy, but not having his hand on you for a week made things stir inside you.

You took a bite of your food while lying back on the couch. Sonny looked relaxed, his legs opened wide. How badly you wanted to saddle him, tell him you can't take it anymore, just to fuck you on the couch. But as you ate more, you thought against it, wanting him to have his full attention on you.

Finishing up with the food and the show, you put down yours, and seconds later he did the same, opening his arms and letting you cuddle into his chest. You put your hand on his upper thigh, giving him a little indication of what you wanted, but he was oblivious to it and continued to watch the TV.

You shifted your weight quickly, putting your legs on his side and saddling him. You looked into his eyes before kissing him. He kissed back eagerly, quickly putting his hands on your thighs as yours went up into his hair. You moaned into the kiss, feeling his hands squeeze your thighs before moving up and into your pants. He breaks off the kiss to trail down your neck, leaving his soft kisses behind before pulling your shirt up and off.

He lays you on the couch, lending him time to take off his, His lips once again meet yours as both of your hands roam each other's bodies. Your moans mix with his. He firmly planted himself between your legs, his hips moved against you, creating fiction that sent you over the edge of waiting. "Please, Sonny," you gasped, feeling him thrust into you. He kissed your neck one last time before his hands found familiar places leading into the night.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

[the-fiction-witch]

Slow and Steady

Media Death of A Superhero

Character Donald

Couple Donald X Reader

Rating Smut

Concept Heart Monitor

Smut / Nudity / semi nudity / BJ/ HJ / risk of discovery / slow sex / full sex/ raw sex/ sexy linquire/ cum inside

I found my way to his room rubbing the sanitizer into my hands as IO headed in shutting the door behind me 

"Hi Ducky" I gleamed

"Hi hun" He smiled from his bed in his usual shorts and loose comic shirt he had been watching tv but pushed it away as I came in I dumped my bag and gave his lips a little kiss "It's nice to see you"

"I'd come more often if I didn't have so much work on" I said sitting on the little chair

"I know, I just have to savour when I see you" he smiled taking my hand and giving it kisses 

"At least you have your own room now"

"That's true" 

"So? how you feeling?"

He glared "How do I always feel when I'm stuck in here?"

"I only asked grumpy" I laughed pinching his cheek "My poor little duck stuck up in here again"

"yeah yeah poor me, at least I get to see you" He smiled 

"awww very affectionate today" I smiled giving him a kiss

"I've missed you" he pouts

"I know I've missed you too, you're just not normally this affectionate"

"Well... I've been in here ages now, I've missed three date nights since I've been in here." He complained "I can't even use your lovely messages or the bloody machine calls the nurse in"

"What?" I giggled 

"Anytime I... get a bit excited and my heart rate goes up the bloody alarm on the machine goes off and the nurses start barging in"

"Ohh no you poor thing, So what have you been doing with my messages?"

"Just looking at them, doing my best to enjoy them without... actually enjoying myself"

"Aww, guess I won't send anymore then"

"No no, please! Please don't stop sending them honey! I haven't been able to see your pretty body in four weeks now! trust me your little pictures are all that's keeping me sane in here"

"Awww alright Donald I'll keep sending them" I smiled giving him a kiss but he was clearly eager for more as he barely let me pull away "So how long has it been?"

"Four and a half weeks"

"Ohh you poor little duck" I cooed "You must be ready to pop"

"Very nearly" he sighed 

"Aww guess my shopping didn't help?"

"No it didn't." he snapped "I swear you only went to tease me"

"I had to get a new bra"

"Yes A new bra, that didn't mean you had to go on a two-hour shopping spree in bloody Victoria's Secret sending me pictures the whole time! you basically vlogged everything you looked at and everything you tried on"

"But you have the best opinions of what I look good in" 

"Did you get that blue set in the end?"

"Maybe, you'll have to wait and see when you're home"

"Fine, meanie" He pouts "Owww." he complained

"what is it?"

"This conversation isn't helping"

"Ohh dear, did you want me to go?"

"No no I want you here honey, just you know maybe don't bring up you in Victoria's secret while I'm locked up in the hospital attached to a heart rate monitor and haven't jerked off in four and half weeks" 

"Why don't you try slow and steady?"

"Don't you think I tried that?"

"Maybe you just need a ladies' touch" I smiled leaning on his bed a little and slipping my hand under his shorts and stroking his very eager, very stiff erection "Ohhh hello ducky" 

"Ughhh fuck I've missed you" He groans leaning against his pillow 

"Whoa whoa... calm," I told him as his monitor nearly went off from just my mild touching 

"Sorry" 

"slow and steady" I smiled gently stroking his shaft he bit his lip hard and I did my best to be slow keeping an eye on the monitor to keep it under the threshold for the alarm at this point his hips were bucking towards my hand, precum flooding down his shaft, his hands gripping the sheets in desperation 

"Ughhh y/n please" he gasps trying to keep quiet "I need more honey, Please!" 

"slow and steady or you'll set the alarm off" I remind him 

"Ughhh, please! fuck it feels like you're edging me again" 

"Awww alright" I smiled taking my hand away and waiting a little for his heart rate to slow a little more as he calmed down before I pulled my hair into a ponytail which was enough to see a visible jump on the monitor line "Really?"

"I know what you putting your hair up means." He smirked tugging his shorts down for me and gently stroking himself "I can't help getting excited" 

I gave his lips a little kiss before I moved and took him into my mouth sucking gently and moving my head slow and steady, he moaned but quickly put a hand over his mouth so as to not be too loud rolling his head against his pillow in ecstasy his hand settled on my ponytail to help guide my head and I made sure to keep an eye on the monitor even if that often meant having to slow down or stop all together where he was getting too wound up 

"Y/n... y/n... ughhh y/n!" He groans rubbing his neck a little "Please honey please, I'm-"

I noticed how close he was to setting the alarm off so I quickly pulled back 

"Ughhhhhh nooooo! y/n!" He whines in frustration 

"Slow and steady" I remind him 

"Please y/n, I don't care if I set it off... please, Just make me cum honey" 

"Awww my little ducky that desperate?"

"You know I am, Please I need you, honey" 

"Well alright" I smiled getting up from my seat but that seemed to frustrate him more

"Nooo honey! where are you going?!"

I stood at the foot of his little hospital bed I smiled and undid my jeans tugging them down and letting them sit at my ankles grabbing my shirt and tugging it up under my chin to expose my new little set of Victoria's secret purple lace panties and bra they left very little to the imagination as the lace was very much sheer 

"Ohh holy shit-" He groans grabbing his shaft and jerking himself off fast and hard 

"You like it?" I giggled stepping out of my jeans and throwing my shirt with my bag doing a little twirl for him 

"Very much!" He nods excitedly 

"Now remember, slow and steady" I remind him as I climb onto his lap and as I do I notice the monitor has an off switch so I quickly flick it without him noticing sitting up over his crotch on my knees 

"I will I promise!" He says wasting no time to hook his finger into my panties and moving them to the side in order to slip himself inside, his eyes rolled back his mouth hung open silently moaning as I moved down to his hilt "Uhh...ughhh... ughhhhh! y/n!" 

"Slow and steady" I smirked resting my hands on his stomach and making sure to be slow with my movements agonizingly slow for him he laid back enjoying himself holding my hips trying desperately to get me to go faster but I kept at my pace which only made him twitch and buck towards me in his utter desperation making sure I moved with each thrust from hilt to tip which only drove him more insane "Aww my poor poorly ducky having to be locked up in here all alone, without our cuddles, and kisses, and unable to see the cute little outfits he picks out for me, and unable to touch himself for me" I cooed kissing his neck 

"Uhh yeah.... yeah poor me... Uhhhh poor, poor me, at least my little ladies making me feel better"

"Maybe I should visit every day"

"Uhhhhhh maybe you should, Come on honey please I need you!" 

"Well alright" I smirked letting him move my hips as fast as he wanted which very quickly brought him the orgasm he so craved filling me up and almost completely collapsing against the bed and gasping 

"I needed that"

"I can tell" I giggled as I climbed off him and half of it fell out of me all over his bed I cleaned up as he was basically comatose  and I grabbed my jeans slipping them on 

"Y/n?"

"Yes, Donald?" I asked turning back to him he smiled widely but pouted pulling a sad face and holding his hands out like a begging baby "What?" I giggled 

"Please" he whines making a squeezing action with his hands 

I rolled my eyes a little before I went over to the edge of the bed and he grabbed my breasts through my bra squeezing and fondling them excitedly moaning as he did 

"You look amazing in this," He smiled

"Thank you, I thought you'd like it" I smiled 

"Ohh I definitely like it, you'd look even better without it though" he smirked 

"maybe next time I come visit if you're feeling a bit better" I cooed pushing his hands away and getting my shirt back on

"I do feel much better now honey" he smiled tugging his shorts back up atlast "Ummm you treat me so good"

"I have to, my poor sick little duck"

"I'm surprised I didn't set it off actually"

"I made sure" I smirked and then he noticed

"There was an off button this whole time!" He complained 

"Love you" I smiled giving his cheek a kiss

"Love you too honey," he smiled 

"Now, you get cosy I'l go grab you some snacks from the vending machine"

[jennay]

I'll Keep Trying

Request: Jamie helps the reader through the first day of period pains. Enjoy!

Master List

Why on gods earth did periods have to be this painful? Why couldn't you be one of the lucky women with light cramps and bleeding? Instead, you were cursed with cramps that felt like you were dying and bloating that made you feel like you would pop at any second. You often saved sick days from work for moments like this, though you thought workplaces should be more sympathetic and allow you to take these days off if needed. They compare period pain to heart attack pain, and you wouldn't work through a heart attack. You couldn't wait for Jamie to get back from the store. You knew he would help you through this, and sometimes it helped just to have someone near you willing to rub your legs or cuddle you and play with your hair till the pain passed. Jamie was empathetic, and you wished more people were like him.

For now, you would lay curled in bed with a heating pad close to your body and daydream about everything you could do after this cycle. "I'm home," Jamie calls from the other room. "I got supplies!" He sets the groceries on the kitchen counter and begins putting things away. Your favorite ice cream will be placed in the freezer as a surprise for later, and he will make sure all your favorite snacks would close to you for when you get your random cravings. When he arrives in the bedroom, he holds the bags in his hands and takes your pads and tampons to the bathroom. "Oh, darling." He rushes back to you and sits on the edge of the bed next to you. "You poor thing. I hate this for you." He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses your forehead. "How can I help?" He quietly asks. "Can you cut my uterus out, please?" You groan, closing your eyes. He lightly chuckles. "No, you might need that somewhere down the road." He grabs the plastic bag filled with goodies and places them on the bedside table. "I got all the pharmaceuticals I could." You open your eyes and reach over for the Ibuprofen. "I love you." Leaning forward, Jamie helps you sit up and hands you a Gatorade. "Thank you." "Of course, love. Are you hungry? I can make us something." He offers, but you aren't quite feeling up to it yet. "Or we can watch a movie, and I can rub your shoulders. Whatever you need, you have my full attention." You sit up feeling exhausted by every single movement. Jamie takes his shoes off and slides in bed next to you. He wraps his arm around you, and you fall onto his chest. "I hate everything, babe." "I know." He runs his fingers through your hair, grabs the remote with his free hand, and turns the tv on. "Do you want to watch anything in particular?" You nuzzle your face in his chest, "I think I want Chinese food. Can you order Chinese food? I think that will make me feel better, oh and maybe we should watch The Mandalorian. Baby Yoda always makes me happy." "I can absolutely do both of those things." He knows he can't make the pain disappear but will do everything he can to make your day easier. "I have ice cream downstairs for later." You pull the blankets up your body and lay a pillow across Jamie's lap; you lay your head down and enjoy the soft touches of Jamie's fingertips running down your arm. "You're the best. I'm sorry I'm such a baby." "Hey," He squeezes your bicep, "You're not being a baby." The doorbell rings, and a burst of excitement pulsates through you. Food. Delicious food. Jamie taps your shoulder, signaling you to move, "There's the food. I'll be back." You smile as you flip through the apps on your TV. How you got so lucky was beyond you. Maybe in a past life, you were a saint; that's the only way you could rationalize getting Jamie in this lifetime. "I'll be in shortly. I will dish up the food so we don't make a mess." Jamie calls from the kitchen. "Don't worry, I'm bringing soy sauce!" You smile and giggle before pressing pause on The Mandalorian. When Jamie arrives in the room, he hands you your food. "My love, extra sweet and sour for you. Your soy sauce and hot mustard." "Thank you." You say. "You know, you're pretty perfect." He laughs and presses play on the show. "I don't know, Din is pretty perfect, and I'll never compare to baby Yoda." He teases. "I've got a long way to go to be your favorite." "Well, you're getting close." You reach to him, signaling you want a kiss, and Jamie doesn't hesitate to fill that need. "Well, I'll keep trying 'cause God knows you deserve it."

[spiderpider]

can you hit us w some hcs for what the mercs do in their spare time maybe? :0

YES!!!! I'll put it under the cut because I'm gonna get elaborate

What Mercs do in their spare times!

Scout - Scout is really the only member of the team that isn't satisfied doing the same thing over and over again. He gets antsy fast- he's the first to suggest dumb excursions and the first to accept them. He loves visiting new places to scope out the best bars, and of course to set the world record in getting kicked out for flirting with the bartenders. Batting cages and running tracks are also high on his priority list! When he feels like spending a day at home, he'll pour over comic books, and maybe vandalize the base with scribbles and graffiti.

Soldier - Taking inspiration from his career as a tour guide, I think Soldier really likes visiting museums. Of course, he's an absolute nightmare to bring anywhere. He's enthusiastic, but Jane will explain just about anything, anywhere, ad nauseam. Go to a history museum? Soldier's gonna tell you how the was actually weaponizing raccoons and weapons made out of garbage. When he isn't terrorizing Teufort, he's probably at the base bossing everyone else around.

Pyro - Honestly probably setting forest fires. And stealing shit from campsites right before they set said fires. Teufort officials have yet to explain the rise of arson/robberies in the woodlands, but they're close. The current theory is a picnic-basket loving bear that just happens to have a penchant for arson. When they're not terrorizing campers, Pyro loves sewing! They make their own plushies, and they're getting pretty good at it!

Demoman - Weirdly enough, Demo loves going to the beach / desert to look for treasure. You can usually find him with a dingy old metal detector. It started off as a secret santa gift that blossomed into a genuine hobby! When he's at the base, he loves watching soaps on TV. Doesn't matter if it's the middle of a season, or something he's never seen before. He'll get really invested really quick. He's kind of a hopeless romantic. You'll usually see Demo, Medic and Spy surrounding the TV yelling at it.

Heavy - I think Heavy really does enjoy reading! That PHD in literature isn't just for show, he probably journals his thoughts and essays on the stuff he's read, too. Weather permitting, he'd like to sit outside and maybe even garden? Something calming and most importantly: quiet. His favorite things to garden are definitely hearty leafy-plants, and vegetables. He likes flowers, but they mess with his allergies. There's something extremely relaxing about being able to tend to-and protect- little baby-plants from the elements.

Engineer - Surprisingly enough, he likes fishing! On his days off he'll go down to the nearest lake, plop on the edge of the dock and fish for a few hours. He also loves solving puzzles, he routinely finishes the crossword before anyone even gets a chance to look at the daily paper. He's also the go-to repair man around the base (though he doesn't consider this much of a hobby, he has to admit that nothing feels better than solving problem, even if it is a leaky pipe.) He's dabbled in woodworking, too. Definitely has built a chair just for the heck of it.

Medic - The scientific pursuit of knowledge drives him- but you can't do science 24/7, even Medic would be burned out within a few years! He's definitely a workaholic, but when he's forced to have spare time, he really likes practicing the violin. He's one of those people that can pick up a hobby and won't set it down until he masters it (or, gets frustrated that he can't pick it up immediately and abandons it after about a week of work. There's a ton of half-knitted scarves shoved into drawers.) Taking care of his birds isn't exactly a hobby, but he does give them extra care and love when he has more spare time.

Sniper - Definitely going on hikes, hunting game and going on "vision quests". The dude is weird. He likes solitary activities, and rarely "hangs out" with anyone else. Really, really has a knack for taxidermy. He's one of those guys that doesn't try to go campy or kitschy with it though, thinks the little taxidermy squirrels in top hats are for serial killers and psychos. He sticks to trying to make them as realistic as possible, thinks it's way more respectful that way. He's spent more than a few weekends testing his wilderness survival abilities, too.

Spy - Honestly, it depends on his mood. He's definitely spent sour afternoons just smoking, drinking and reading his Dapper Cadaver magazines for hours on end. When he's not pouting, Spy is traveling. Anything to get out of a town made of 90% gravel. He likes visiting art museums, wine tasting, anything that he can brag about to the other Mercs. Secretly, though, he loves going to see B movies in theaters (obviously disguised). Cheap thrills are a guilty pleasure that he is incredibly embarrassed about.

[pygmypyncher]

Hello, hope this is ok. Just to say how much I have enjoyed your writing for Bodies. Your writing is so beautifully detailed, and the internal nuances are delightful to wander amongst. I have read all TRC books, not my favourite, but I really like your fics, but Oh boy, I can see how your writing has developed since then. So, just a big thank you for writing all these pieces. (Do you have any recs for queer media that you have enjoyed?)

Thank you so much for messaging! It's really lovely of you to say!

Also very glad to hear my writing has come on since the TRC days! I was very proud of those fics at the time, and really do still think of them fondly, but I am aware of how much I've grown as a writer since then (hence the slight jumpscare this morning, for which I can only apologise!).

Queer media! Let me dredge my memories for a bit, and I will no doubt mention stuff you've heard of or watched/read already. There are doubtless SEVERAL things I've forgotten, as it is well past my bedtime, but if any glaring omissions occur to me I'll send them on! Shows: Recently I've really enjoyed Our Flag Means Death - you've probably at least heard of it (and as you've been looking at my AO3 you'll have seen I've written for it), and it's completely different from either TRC or Bodies tonally bc it is, in essence, a pirate sitcom, but there is honestly nothing so unashamedly and joyously queer out there at the moment. The fandom is a bit of a terrifying juggernaut, so I suggest treading neatly round the edges and delving into some absolutely top-tier fic (of which there is no shortage) if the whim takes you. On the other side of the pirate scale is Black Sails (DO NOT compare these directly they are very different beasts). Excellent story, very dark and gritty, great pay-off. Deadloch is another great show - Australian detective black comedy, filled to the brim with lesbians! The Haunting of Bly Manor is just a gorgeous ghost/love story with some brilliant characters. Feel Good is one of these unexpectedly heart-breaking sitcoms that I can't recommend enough even though it took me a year to build up the courage for a rewatch A League of Their Own (TV) is just brilliant, and i am GUTTED we're not getting a s2 I'm gonna stick Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries here too, bc even though it isn't actually all that queer (but it DOES have Miriam Margolyes, which definitely qualifies it), it's super camp and has what is possibly the only straight mc romance i've ever been invested in which is saying something Books: KJ Charles is a favourite of mine. She writes really great, quick-to-read queer historical romances that always have a great mystery and body count. The Will Darling Adventures (1920s pulp action-mystery with a romance between an ex-soldier who now runs a second-hand bookshop and a disgraced aristo) are my absolute favourites of hers, but everything she writes is very solid. I've also really enjoyed The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir series so far - very complicated Space Opera, again chock-full of lesbians. Sex: Lessons From History by Fern Riddell is a really interesting non-fiction book about, shockingly, attitudes to sex through history, and takes a delightfully non-heteronormative approach to it that I wasn't expecting going in. As Meat Loves Salt by Maria McCann is an all-time favourite read of mine, but is quite challenging as the main character is Not The Greatest Guy and it does carry some hefty stuff and warnings. Girl Meets Boy and How to Be Both by Ali Smith are both just brilliant stories with some great Gender Stuff going on.

Like i say, I'm sure I've missed stuff! And it's a bit all over the place because, as well as replying to your AO3 comments too early this morning, I am now answering this too late at night. I am sorry, but can do nothing about it :P I hope this is a little bit helpful at least! <3

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 23

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Warnings: Nude dry humping, dirty talk

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

I look at my reflection in the elevator's mirror when I get home, thinking about how Tae mocked me for this new hair color as soon as we got to the restaurant. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking when I tinted it red, and the fact that this is just a consequence of that makes me want tear my hair apart. But then I remember how Y/n kept saying it looked good on me, and whether those words were genuine or a good attempt to make me feel better, it also helps me to find this new hair color quite appealing.

When I get out of the lift, I think she might not be here anymore. Probably she got bored, maybe her friends called her to hang out... which would also explain why she hasn't replied to my text yet. But when I cross the entrance door, and I see her head peeking up over the backrest of my coach, and I can't control the smile that's caused by the relief it causes me.

—You're here —I sigh, closing the door behind me.

I start taking my jacket off when her eyes land on me. And even if I can't see it, I can tell she's smiling behind the leather fabric of the sofa.

—You thought I'd leave?

—Nah —although the truth is that I was partly convinced she had left long ago—. But I'm happy to see you're here anyway.

Her eyes almost shut completely due to the big smile she keeps hiding, although she turns back to face the TV before I'm able to fully enjoy that sight.

—I sent you a pic of the tattoo —I mention, lying on the spot next to her—. You didn't see it?

—No, I haven't been on the phone today.

She lazily points to her phone, that's placed near the corner of the coffee table. It's something I already thought when I saw she hadn't been online all day, so I'm not really surprised by her answer.

—That sounds like you've been busy —seeing that her feet are resting on the edge of the table, I decide to join her—. What did you do?

—Not much —she shrugs—. I looked around the house, but found nothing interesting —she puckers her lips, making me chuckle due to the cute face she makes while thinking—; I watched a movie, too.

—What else? —I hit her side hopefully.

It doesn't take me much to know she hasn't done just that in the five hours I've been out. She looked around, watched a movie, and still didn't have time to reply to a text I sent just two hours ago? That, and how she's nervously biting her lower lip, while making sure her head doesn't make a wrong move to look up to me, is everything I need to know something else has happened while I was away. But I wait for her to bring it up.

In the little time we've been around each other, I learned that she is unable to keep some thoughts to herself. She tends to overthink and try to calm them down, but lately she's started to be more open. Always doing the same nervous lip biting and head tilting before she dropped the question.

—Leslie only wanted to apologize the other day?

Among every little thing she could be curious about, the mention of Leslie surprises me. I frown at her, hoping she explains what's up with that question. But, instead, she opens her eyes a bit more, insisting to get an answer from me.

—That's what's kept you busy all morning?

The light comment does nothing to her. Her look intensifies at time goes by, and I'm sure she won't say anything else until I finally give in.

—I thought that's what she wanted —I sigh, finally giving Y/n what she wanted—. That's what she said. But she kept saying how dumb she was, and how much she missed what we had —I grimace at my own words—. I didn't need her to tell me directly she wanted to come back. And I didn't like the direction the conversation was taking, so I left and texted you to meet up —I scratch my nape—. She's also been calling me almost every day, and has sent me texts trying to hang out.

Y/n nods, pressing her lips together again as she tries to process the information I've just given her. I didn't want her to overthink the night we made up, I just wanted to enjoy her company without her being insecure about the possibility of me going back to my ex. And right now I'm not really sure if it was a good idea to hide it from her that night.

—Sounds like a stalker —she murmurs.

—Sounds more like someone who's been dumped and thought her plan b would still be available for her —I click my tongue—. She'll get over it.

At least, I hope so after she was blocked.

Instead of going on with the conversation, there's silence. And I'm dumb enough to think it's over, letting myself get comfortable and relax, while resting my head on the backrest.

But she isn't done, she was just thinking about what to say next.

—You could've told me last night —she lets out a sigh.

—It was late, and I wanted to enjoy being with you after not seeing you for a week. I told you the only relevant thing for me from that night, which was Leslie apologizing —I try so hard to show I'm relaxed, when actually I'm scared of her getting mad at this whole situation—. I don't care whether she wants to come back or not, because I don't want to.

—You know, it'd have been nice just to be prepared when she showed up here today —she turns to me.

Why the fuck was Leslie here?

I frown, looking at her confused, while she's just staring at me concerned.

—What was she doing here?

—She came here looking for you —she shrugs—, said you two still had some things to talk about.

If I thought I was clear enough with Leslie, then I was wrong. So now, directly saying I don't want to go back with her, translates in I still have some things to discuss with her regarding us? Somebody should've warned me...

—I thought what I told her the last time would be enough to make her step back —I sit properly next to her—. That's everything she said? —looking into her eyes, I waits for her answer.

—She didn't say much more —she shrugs again—. Not like she needed to say much more anyway.

—I swear there's nothing going on. What I told you is everything there is to it.

—Okay —she looks away—. There's no need to get so worked up over it. Even if there was something to it, you can do whatever you want.

—There is. Because I care about what you think.

We stare into each other's eyes for a long minute, before she speaks again just to repeat what she's just said.

—That's great, but doesn't change the fact that you could do whatever you want.

And for some reason, those words annoy the fuck out of me. I know what she means, I know she's trying not to cross boundaries, but what the fuck she means with "I can do whatever I want"?

—Not again —I stand up, annoyed with her and annoyed with myself, going back and forward my own tracks—. I can, but I still care about your opinion. And that's why I texted you that night. You're the only person I can think of right now, so I don't care about what Leslie wants.

—And I'm just saying I have no say on anything.

And I'm really wondering if she's this thick on purpose, or if she genuinely isn't able to see that right now I'm only crazy for her.

—But you do —I kneel in front of her, trying to get all her attention—. You're unbelievable —a small chuckle leaves my lips—. I told you I'm into you, into you only, and your head is still spinning around trying to convince yourself you have no say on what I do. You do, so don't tell me I can do whatever I want.

She's going to answer before even trying to process what I've just said. And it's obvious, by the look on her face, that she seems to finally be getting what I'm trying to say now. Y/n looks down at me, eyebrows slightly frowned, while her lips part and momentarily shake, before she starts speaking.

—Well... —she licks her lips, and lowers her body a little— Thank god you said that, because I didn't mean it at all.

I sigh hard, deep inside. A light feeling of relief invades my body when she says that with a shy smile.

—I know —I lie, silently chuckling. I actually was shitting my pants thinking she'd ask why I was even thinking that way—. Now, honest opinion on what you think I should do?

—There isn't much you could do right now —she puckers her lips, thinking—. You made clear you were happy right now —I nod—, you've been avoiding her —god knows I've tried my best—, you also told her you're seeing someone...

Oh... Of course Leslie told her that.

—I knew you'd bring that up —I let a mischivious smile adorn my face—. Yeah, great girl indeed —I tease her.

—Are you going to talk in third person about me now? —she raises one of her eyebrows, adding up to her sassy tone.

—Who said it was you? —I tease again, using the same tone.

—Is it not? —she crosses her arms over her chest.

He presses his lips together, trying to -needlessly- hide the smile that's forming on his face while we keep eye contact. He scrunches his nose again before looking away.

—I'm the great girl —I confirm, relaxing on the couch while letting my body fall back until it hits the backrest.

I feel like there are a lot of things that I should say right now, it just seems like the right moment to do so, but I hold back. I think it'll be enough with the conversation we've had just now, and seeing her positive answer is enough for me.

Trying to avoid my long tongue from running free after looking into her eyes for a little longer, I get up from the floor. I'm not really hungry -honestly, I ordered the sandwich thinking it'd be smaller, but that thing was an abomination. I know she hasn't had lunch, most probably, though. So I'll make something for her either way.

✸ ✸ ✸

We don't do anything special for the rest of the afternoon, we just lie on the couch, watching the first show that popped in my TV screen after I opened Netflix. Honestly, I wasn't even planning on watching this -basically because it seemed one of those cringey shows that drops dumb jokes for no reason at all. But any excuse is good to be around her, at this point.

When I sneakily turn to her, I catch her looking at me, but it doesn't seem like she's looking at me. Her eyes are lost while her mind is working on something else, and I just happen to be in the middle of her field of view.

—What are you thinking?

Dragged back to this moment, she blinks a few times, finally looking into my eyes and paying attention to me. Although it doesn't last much. Y/n moves her eyes away from mine fast, trying to keep her gaze somewhere else.

—Umm —she looks at the TV—. I was thinking... of a way to tell you this show is awful.

—I heard you laughing just ten minutes ago —I fake amusement, throwing my head back to the backrest.

—Yes, by how bad it is —she replies back—. Let's choose something else —she tries to reach the remote right after.

Finding a new entertainment that's actually worth it, I start teasing her by moving the remote away every time she tries to reach it. But of course she fights back, finding weak spots on my ribs that makes my whole body squirm and flinch when she pinches it.

—Give it to me. C'mon.

I'm so concentrated on dodging her fingers, that I'm not aware both of our bodies are at the edge of the couch until it's too late. Y/n makes one final move that makes her lose her balance, but she doesn't fall by herself, she drags me along by grabbing the collar of my white t-shirt.

—Look what you've done —I accuse her, placing my hands on both sides of her head so I don't rely the weight of my body on her.

—You should've given me the remote. Technically, this is your fault.

—Is it?

It must be the tone I use, or the way I keep switching where I draw my eyes to between her lips and her eyes. When I look at them again, they have a darker tone, and when I look down at her lips, she's licking them, making them shine under the light after coating them with a thin coat of spit. I move her hair away from her face, brushing some locks away.

—I'll take the blame for it, then —I whisper.

I swear every time we kiss it feels completely different. The way her lips suck on mine, and her tongue licks my lower lip drives me insane every time. She moves her thighs under me, placing them around my hips so I can place myself more comfortably between them.

And the huge mistake that is...

My body fights itself, the little common sense I have left against the primitive I need to bury myself deep inside her, when she starts rolling her hips against my growing bulge.

She doesn't give me time to stop anything, or ask her if she's alright, her voice drops those words that leave me shocked for a few seconds:

—I want to do it.

I move my head back, trying to get a better view of her face. I should be feeling great after hearing her say that, it's exactly why all of this started. But instead of letting my body run wild with her offer, I think of what her thoughts could be after we're done tonight.

Losing her first time after making out on the floor because we're both horny and bored? Doesn't seem like the best start, and I definitely don't want her thinking it could've been a way better experience in a few weeks. She's waited a lot already, and I think I should be at the same level of her expectations.

—I'm ready —she repeats—. I want to do more.

—Babe, I'm sure you are —I try to calm her down, rubbing my thumb over her belly. —. But it's your first time, it should be more special than this.

She's disappointed, and she tries to hide it by nodding several times and looking somewhere else. Masturbating each other? We've done that a few times already. Oral sex? It's usually what comes after the masturbation, and I completley understand she's eager for the whole thing after a few months.

If only there was a way to give her the level of intimacy she wants, without doing anything she'd regret...

As I try to find a way to get her to feel better, I thank god for my twisted and horny mind.

—Let's go.

I get up from the floor, helping her to stand up by pulling her arm. It genuinely seems like I've found the biggest discovery by the way I drag her to the bedroom.

—I thought you said you wanted it to be special.

—And I stand by that —I turn to her—. If you want to do it, we'll do it right now and here. But I'm asking you to wait, so I can make it worth it.

Giving her one last chance to choose among the options she has, she clicks her tongue and looks at me with curious eyes.

—What was your idea then?

—I want you so bad, cocktease —I play with the button of my pants—. Only thing I was able to think about today was you wearing this shirt —my fingers move down her zip slowly—. Waiting for me here... You have no idea what you do to me —I whisper on her lips.

Her determined hands move to my jeans, unzipping them. But instead of pushing them down, she sneaks her hands under my t-shirt, lifting the fabric while her fingers make shivers run through my spine as they go up on my torso.

—Should I keep it on? —she teases me, while her hands ghost near my nipples.

—Please, don't.

She giggles when I answer that way, and that sexy smile only urges me to lean over her so I could kiss her neck while fighting with the thick fabric of my jeans to get rid of them. I lose my balance a few times as I take them off, and she laughes at that.

—You're laughing? —I try to sound as offended and challenging as possible, but doesn't seem like that intimidates her anymore— Let's see if you keep laughing.

I bite her lower lip, leaving her eager for another sloppy kiss when I take my t-shirt off and let my body fall over the matress, crawling until I'm sitting in the middle with my back resting against the headboard.

—Take everything off.

I regret saying those words as soon as she starts shwoing off her soft skin, being incredibly right under the lamp light of my nightstands. Her perked nipples have me licking my lips unconsciously, remembering intensely the rugosity of her hard buttons on my tongue.

—Everything —I remind her when I see she's still keeping her panties.

—You, too —her eyes point to my boxers.

We're both so desperate to get on each other's skin that we waist no time getting rid of the last pieces of fabric.

—Come here.

Y/n crawls on the bed, until she finally reaches me, kneeling in between my thighs. Maybe I'm a bit rough by the way I cup her cheeks and link our lips into a short sloppy kiss, but I just can't resist her.

—You're so perfect —I growl, lips still wet with our spit—. So fucking beautiful —I pecks her lips—. You trust me?

—Yes.

Not wanting to move away from her, I move our bodies over the mattress, until she's finally stradling my belly.

—Remember when you rode my thigh?

—Yeah.

—Do the same thing on my cock.

She looks confused, but still tries to place herself in a way to be able to do what I'm asking her. Her hands shake doubtful, and she moves her head trying to find the right angle a few times.

—Like this —I stop her, with my hand on her hip.

Trying to make my dick lie flat on my stomach, I hold it by the tip while I guide her body by the hip until I can feel the wetness from her pussy coating my shaft. I mark the initial rhythm, with both hands now on her hips so I can move her body on my cock. I do it a few times, slow, feeling her pussy clench every time I push her back.

I can tell she's nervous over being on top right now, but I know she's ready to try when both of her hands find support on my abs. Slowly, my hands stop adding pressure on her body, just to find out she's been moving her hips on her own. Her body swings with the rhythm I marked at the beginning, coating my balls with her juices before she's back on my tip. But it only takes her a few seconds riding me that way to start moving faster.

—That's it —I moan—. Make me feel it.

I thought I'd be ready for the image I have ahead of me right now, but nothing would've prepared me for the way her body moves, with her tits bouncing in the air before she allows her hands get a hold of them. And all of that while she's giving me one of the dirtiest, yet -ironically- the most innocent, look she has ever given me. And fuck, those moans and gasps that make my dick leak and twitch with every stroke of her folds.

She can't be real.

But while I admire her, I notice something is off with her. Her eyes are closed, and her head is slightly thrown back, but her eyebrows are frowned and her head is tilting while her lips pucker in disgust.

Not again.

Supporting my body with one of my elbows, I reach to her cheek with my free hand.

—Babe, look at me.

I can't explain what I feel when she opens her eyes and everything seems to be okay.

—Are you okay? —she nods— Sure? —she nods again.

—It's just... I'm not sure if I'm doing it okay.

But I know she's lying. She's always been vocal whenever she was unsure of whether I liked what she did or not. Not to mention the full concentration look she has plastered on her face whenever that happens. I also know she might've lied because she doesn't want to ruin the whole mood, and I don't want to make her feel that way either.

—You're doing great —I assure her, kissing her shoulder—. Keep moving like that —my hands go back to her hips.

Acting as if she needed help, I go back at guiding her moves, moving her in a way that her clit can feel more pressure with every stroke.

Suspicious of all the problems coming whenever she closes her eyes, I scold her when I realize she's about to do it again.

—Keep your eyes on me —I order her—. I want to see your eyes when you cum.

She digs her nails on my skin after a few more movements, and those sexy moans that comes out of her mouth, and her needy gasps trying to reach her high, are the last thing I need before I cum with her, spilling all my load over my abs.

She lowers her moves when she seems to be aware of my orgasm, but I don't allow her to stop, controlling her hips, making her rub against my cock as fast as she's able to. But I'm also greedy, and not only I want her orgasm, I want her to get it by herself while my hands enjoy every single spot in her body.

—Cum on my cock —I encourage her—. Let me feel how much you liked it.

Her speed goes crazy after that, holding onto my arms so she's focusing completely on the tingling feeling that's forming in her pussy, and infecting her whole body. With a hand on her jaw, I force her to look up to me, opening her eyes surprised by the sudden touch just when she was about to close them again.

I make my best at looking after her once we're both done, avoiding her resting her body on mine so she doesn't get full of the mess I made. And once we both are clean enough, and back on the bed, I don't even process it before I pull her closer to my body, feeling her rest her head on my chest.

—How was it? —she asks shyly.

—Tonight it was confirmed you showed up in my life just to kill me —I chuckle.

She's either a goddess that came to pay me for all good I've done in my previous life, or she's the biggest punishes I have to deal for the mistakes I've done in the past. Either way, she's insanely -and dangerously- perfect.

We stay in silence for a few seconds, allowing my brain to come up with a risky -yet exciting idea.

—Let's go on a date —I suggest.

—Hmm? —she opens her eyes, looking up to me again.

—A date. Tomorrow night.

—I'm working tomorrow night.

—I'll pick you up when you finish your shift —I explain her—. Are you with Tam tomorrow?

—Nope.

—Then it's settled —I hold her tight—. Do you want to?

Yeah... It's lovely and all. But I didn't even try to think about the small detail that she should want it just as much as I do. Imagine if after coming up with the idea, she says she doesn't want to do it.

—A date as in?

—As in two people that clearly are into each other and want to do something different. What do you think?

She nods fast, with that cute smile that urges me to hide her tight to protect her from everything that's wrong.