#unedited 😬

[egberts]

okay fine i'm posting one clip of my second song because i cracked myself up good with this one

[etherrreal]

🌹👀

according to google docs, I started this Yamamoto "neighbors to lovers" fic in July of 2021.... and I go back to it every single month hoping that somehow it'll finish itself because I love Yamamoto so much 🥲

All the built-up frustration propelled the words out of your mouth. “Okay, I’ve let the noise slide the first time because I assumed it was just a one-time thing, like a housewarming party or something. But you’ve just become progressively worse and louder as the weeks go by, and I’m fucking sick of it! Can you please just keep it down so, hopefully, I can fall asleep tonight before the sun rises?”

His friends in the background quiet down when they hear your voice rise in volume, some shifting uncomfortably from what you can see out of the corner of your eye. Your stare doesn’t leave mohawk-man’s face, however, not even as he stares blankly back at you. If you didn’t think he had a brain previously then you’re absolutely sure of it now.

“Well? Are you gonna say anything?" He still stands there, mouth barely open and eyes just staring at you, blinking occasionally so you know he at least has one brain cell bouncing around in his skull. It becomes obvious that you weren’t getting a response, rolling your eyes in annoyance. "Ugh. Whatever. Just keep it the fuck down because I really hate contacting our landlord for shit."

-Luna

[opencommunion]

"A Palestinian source familiar with the negotiations revealed to Al Mayadeen on Wednesday that although the occupation has given its general approval for the ceasefire agreement in the Gaza Strip, the signing and implementation of the truce are being delayed due to pending details. Regarding these details, the source stated that the occupation has not provided information on the mechanism for the prisoner exchange, nor clarified how the injured would be allowed to leave for treatment. He added that the occupation also failed to provide a map outlining the military withdrawal from the Gaza Strip, nor any details regarding the management of the Rafah crossing and the entry of trucks. The source noted that such delays by the Israeli occupation continue to disrupt the ceasefire agreement in the Gaza Strip.

Arab, American, and Israeli officials confirmed that the draft ceasefire in Gaza and the exchange of prisoners have been agreed upon in principle. If everything proceeds smoothly, the ceasefire is expected to be finalized this week."

15 January 2025

[1toreyouapart]

What It Cost

****THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY BASED ON REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE OR MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS STORY OUTSIDE OF LILITH AND SADIE AND MAYBE A COUPLE OTHERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT UP FOR FANFIC INVOLVING REAL PEOPLE***

Terrible summary: Five years since she last spoke to him. Since she last saw him. Now his face and his voice is everywhere. She can't escape him.

Five years ago Noah destroyed her and the life they had built. Now he’s back and seeking to make amends. As much as she wants to say that it's too little too late, is it?

CW/TW: Angst, mention of addiction, cheating. Mention of character death. Language. Smut (later on). PinV, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it, friends), oral (f&m receiving). All smutty warnings happen later on, so I’ll update TW/CW warning labels as those parts are written and posted. If I forget anything, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!

A/N: Currently unedited. Sorry. 😬 Read at your own risk, I guess. 😅 Also no word count because I’m lame.

Part 1 - Lilith

Lilith sighed, closing out of TikTok. Every other video was some video about him. Concert footage, old stream footage from five years ago. His music. She couldn't escape him, no matter how hard she tried. Though it stung, she couldn't help but feel a little bit proud of him. Years of constant work had paid off. Noah had made it. The band had made it and was now one of, if not the, biggest band in the scene right now.

But, God, it still hurt. For four years it had been him and her against the world. Her sitting there night after night, day after day, encouraging him and supporting him. Pushing him to keep going when he just wanted to give up. The first three years had been hard, and sure they'd argued, but it had been good. Great, even. It wasn't until their second album came out that everything started to fall apart.

Suddenly it was like he was finding reasons to fight with her. He would stay out later and later. Drank more and more. And no matter what she did, it just seemed to push him further and further away. That last year had been a nightmare. All culminating in the night that he didn't come home until 6am.

The night that when he finally came home, he couldn't look at her. God, she could still smell the perfume that clung to him as he pushed past her, headed upstairs for the shower. Sure, she could have followed him and confronted him, but what good would that have done? They'd have just fought some more and she was so tired of fighting. Instead she'd packed her things and left while he washed off the smell of another woman. Like a coward.

Part of her hated herself for leaving quietly like that. But she just didn't have it in her anymore. One call to Jolly on her way to her best friends had confirmed her suspicions, anyway. Jolly, though reluctant, had confirmed he'd left with another woman that night. In spite of everyone trying to stop him. Noah hadn't cared.

"Earth to Lilly!" Sadie shouted, snapping her fingers in front of her face.

"Hmm?"

"You good? You've been zoned out for like 10 minutes."

Lilly sighed. Was she good? Yes, but no. Having him plastered everywhere was wreaking havoc on all the healing she'd thought she had done.

"Yeah. Just can't escape his fucking face anywhere these days."

"Ew. He doesn't deserve this success. Not after what he did."

"Sadie," she groaned. "You were like siblings at one point. You know how hard he worked for this. Don't be like that."

"Bitch, you should be more like that. After what he did? Moving you out here with him? Just to cheat like the gutless bitch he is?" Sadie huffed, leaning back in her seat. "You haven't even been able to go on a successful date in five years!"

Lilith squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her temples. Sure, Sadie was right. And she should probably work through why that was, but that was too daunting of a task. She already knew it was because she was constantly afraid she wasn't enough. That there was something just fundamentally wrong with her. Logically she knew that wasn't the case. That it was him and only him that made him do that. But God, it still sucked thinking about it.

"Sadie..."

"I'll stop. I'm sorry. It just pisses me off. Jolly's still mad at him, you know."

"I know." She chuckled. "He reminds me every time he's here. And Matt. And Nicholas."

Her and Noah may have broken up, but the boys had never stopped treating her like she was family. They still came over regularly. Still had family dinners. It was because of that Jolly and Sadie finally got together. Part of her wondered if Noah knew all of this. An even bigger part of her hoped he didn't. Not out of anger or spite. For her own sanity. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed him. Far more than she should. And knowing that if he knew they all still spent time with her and he didn't once in five years try to reach out and at least apologize? That could very well break her.

Her phone pinged, alerting her to a text. And so life went on. Lilith checked the notification, smiling at Jolly's name appearing. Her smile quickly fell, however, when she read the message.

"Anniversary dinner in Danny's honor coming up on the 26th. Mason really wants you there. We all want you there. You loved him, too."

Fuck. She'd missed last year's. Made some excuse so she didn't have to see Noah. Him and Danny had been close. Of course he would be there. Fuck.

"I've been requested at an anniversary dinner for Danny."

"Noah will be there."

"I know." Lilith groaned. "I can't keep avoiding him forever."

"Good chance for him to grow a pair and apologize."

Lilith laughed, though it was hollow. Noah admit to mistakes he made? Fat chance in hell. He was more likely to spend the evening avoiding her just as much as she would avoid him.

"There's about as much of a chance of that happening as there is of me going without my morning chai." Her phone pinged again.

"Yes, Noah will be there. No, you don't have to talk to him."

It was like Jolly had read her mind. A genuine laugh escaped her, her chest feeling light again. Jolly knew her a little too well sometimes. With a grin she responded, pushing the thought of being around Noah out of her mind.

"See you there."

She could do this. She could be around Noah. It wouldn't be that big of a deal. After all, they ran in the same circles. It was a miracle she'd even avoided him for this long. Everything would go smoothly and be totally fine. It was just a dinner. What's the worst that could happen?

Tags: @fadingintothegrey

[whereireid]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: jake sully x fem!reader | masterlist

Summary: Jake Sully has never been taken care of before. You decide to change that. based on this request.

— warnings: fluff // nsfw content; handjobs, unedited. 😬

Jake Sully doesn’t think that anyone has ever asked to take care of him before.

It’s a strange request for you to make — one that has his ears flickering in confusion and his tail swatting behind him, but he simply nods his head, adjusting his legs so you can easily slide in between them.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” you murmur, your lips brushing against the striped skin of his inner thigh. You leave goosebumps in your wake, your movements slow and sultry, and Jake gazes down at you with half-lidded eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, 'ts okay.”

As though to add to his point, he gives you a slow, earnest nod. His lips quirk upward slightly as he speaks, and his voice is deep, rumbling in his chest. The low octaves send a familiar warmth pooling to your stomach. His legs are so wide and muscular, flexing under each touch, and you’re subtly reminded that the only reason you are able to take care of him is because he’s letting you. 

He's leant against a tall oak tree in the middle of the forest, and you’re nestled between his thighs. It’s a promiscuous place to be, but it’s where he wanted to go.

Jake had returned to your shared mauri from a successful hunting mission, and stated that he needed to get away — needed to “clear his head”. You had meekly followed him, tottering after him and pleading for him to slow. He had done so; his strides becoming leisurely and steady, allowing for you to keep up with him. His tail had wrapped possessively in its familiar place around your wrist as the two of you walked together, your shoulder brushing against his hip every few seconds, causing you to fluster.

He's so big, and you’re reminded of this as you grow closer and closer to his loincloth.

“Can I touch you, sweetheart?” Jake’s drawls softly from above you, his fingers instinctively reaching out and brushing a few strands of loose hair away from your face.

“You can do what you want, Jake. I just want to take care of you.”

You gaze up at him, and it feels like the breath is knocked from your lungs. Jake is ethereal, the small rays of sun breaking through the trees catching his lashes, reflecting the light onto his eyes through his half-lids. You meet the polished stained glass of his eyes, orange and yellows hues staring down at you like an Earthly sunset. 

Gaze dragging down, your met with his strong chest. Stripes of steel blue cascade across his chest like rippling water, and your lips part as you note the soft, round curve of his stomach. He’s not as young as he used to be, but age has been exceptionally kind. Your eyes flit across the scar which patterns across his chest, and you pout, your hand reaching upwards to swipe across the jagged line.

He blinks as you stare at him, his lips twitching upwards into a small smile. “It’s only a scar,” he reminds you, a hand coming down to wrap around his wrist. “I’m okay.”

The pad of your thumb presses meekly into the indentation. “I hate that man.”

“Well, we don’t need to worry about him anymore,” Jake murmurs, “it’s just us.”

Warmth floods to your face, and you meekly force your attention back towards his loincloth. You gently begin to hoister his loincloth higher, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as excitement pricks at your core. He allows for it to be tugged upwards, and your skin prickles with goosebumps as the slight curve of the forbidden fruit that you crave terribly begins to grow exposed.

“So pretty, Jake,” you mumble, your fingers shaking as they untie his loincloth at the side. Your fingers explore the exposed skin of his hips as the loincloth falls to the floor, your lips peppering against his inner thighs, ignoring the area that he desperately craves to be touched the most.

Your nails drag softly against his hips, following the patterns of his blue stripes, and he sighs sweetly as your lips brush against his crotch ever so slightly. Your eyes flick towards his cock, which is hard and pulsing besides you, perking with excitement and need as your tongue gently laps at the crook of his thigh.

“So are you,” he responds quietly, gently tilting your chin so that he can look at you. His irises are sheathed by the dilation of his lust, and you shyly smile at his enthusiasm. “You’re my pretty girl, sweetheart.”

As if to prove his point, you bat your lashes up at him. You dip your head so your lips scrape against his thigh again, and your breath is warm, faintly fanning across his skin. His thighs flex under you, and your kisses grow hot and wet as you softly suckle at his skin, satisfied when the blue of his skin begins to grow purple.

Finally, your hand moves towards his area of desire. Your palm wraps a fist around his cock, your thumb swiping softly over his leaking, lavender head. A quiet hiss slips past Jake’s lips, and from the peripheral of your vision, you can see him tilt his heads backwards.

He shifts his hips, bucking lazily into your hand. “No, Jake,” you respond, and he looks down at you, confusion evident in his features. “Let me do all of the work.”

Jake nods his head timidly, readjusting his hips to grow comfortable. His eyes fight to stay open, but between the rays of sun which shine directly at his pupils and the sultry look on your face, he’s forced to shut his eyes and focus on the painful aching of his cock.

Desire blooms in his stomach as your hand teasingly begins to tug at his cock, your palm soft and wet, and he wonders when you spat on it, and then he realises that you didn’t and you’re simply using his pre-cum as lube.  

Your other hand, in all of its glory, softly draws shapes into his skin, your nails sharp enough to warrant fear. He knows you’d never hurt him, and his lips part in joy as your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, a soft moan dragging from his throat. His cock is so thick that it’s hard to manage, but he seems like he’s enjoying himself.

His stomach tenses as you continue to roll your fist up and down his cock, and it aches — he aches, desperate to thrust into your hand, but he’s more scared of the lack of an orgasm than he is the consensus of a drawn-out one.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, and his thighs jolt as your teeth sink softly into the plump flesh of his thigh. “Please?”

“You’ll get what you want. I promise.” 

An insatiable feeling of warmth drowns him, and he imagines his face is flushed terribly. Another quiet moan is drawn from his throat as you pump his cock tantalizingly slow, his body sparking with the need for more.

“Faster,” he begs, “please, pretty girl, I need more.”

Hungry for relief, yet gnawing for more bliss, Jake lets out a quiet cry, his eyes opening to gaze down at you. He’s glad that he did, and pleasure bubbles in his stomach as he takes in your amused expression, your lips quirked upwards as you continue to pump his cock.

Jake’s head tips backwards again, resting against the tree, and you rub your thumb over the slit of his cock as you press wet, heated kisses to his other thigh, your teeth scraping down his skin. Your canines aren’t sharp enough to draw blood, but you try — nipping and biting to create a stark contrast of both pleasure and pain.

Gently, you readjust yourself, pausing your movements. You lean over his crotch, and Jake gasps quietly as you let yourself drool over your hand and his cock, your salvia covering your fingers and his tip. You messily jerk him again, and he lets out a choked groan, and you wonder how you got so lucky to have such a verbal partner.

His praise and sounds of pleasure causes arousal to pool in your own stomach, but you ignore it, opting to focus all on him. His cock dribbles with more precum, and his stomach and thighs tense as you carefully begin to speed up the motions of your hands. 

“Do you like this?”

Jake nods his head. His throat feels tight and so does his stomach, all tense and rippling with pleasure. “Yes,” he chokes out, his fingers curling into the soil beneath him, “I like it.”

“I knew that you would,” you murmur softly, the pad of your thumb rolling over his thumb, a small smile painting your lips as his precum dribbles down his cock, following the slight curve of the impressive muscle. 

Your nails rake over his thighs, and Jake shivers, tensing and writhing beneath you. He’s aching, impossibly hard, and his eyes crush shut as he begins to tremble beneath you. You smile as he gives into his vulnerability, as he allows for you to take care of him, and you watch his fingers curl deeper into the soil, and you allow him to finally thrust into your hand.

“Oh, yes, that’s it,” he grits his teeth as he praises you, and his stomach burns with heat, his ears pinned backwards as the sloppy sounds of his lust echo throughout the forest. “My pretty girl, taking care of me so good.”

Jake’s voice has sunken to a whimper now, and you feel your cunt pulsing between your legs. You’re growing sticky and needy yourself, and as you rub him, you also rub your thighs together, attempting to find a source of friction to dull your own insatiable desire.

“Faster?” you ask him, and he nods his head vigorously.

Your grip tightens on his cock, and you begin to jerk him faster, and he lets out a throaty, content moan. He nods his head, praising and begging, pleading for more, and you let him rut into your fist. He feels so hot, and his stomach is so tense and his thighs flex beneath your nails and you can’t help but sigh softly.

He’s so desperate. 

Pleasure buzzes in the atmosphere, and you sense that he’s getting close, and you can feel him getting closer. His cock is leaking over your hand, and you move to wrap your other fist around it, attempting to give him as much pleasure as possible.

Your wrist aches, burns as you continue to help him, and you can’t help but praise him further, “so pretty, Jake, you know that?” you murmur, but he can’t hear you, his heartbeat so loud as it rattles throughout every fibre of his being.

It’s heavenly torture, and he begins to pull soil from Pandora as he ruts into your hand further, and your grip on his cock tightens, the motions sloppy and lewd as his hips desperately snap upwards. “Yes, like that. Sweetheart, please!” He begs, and then he can’t hold it in anymore, the inferno blazing inside of him overwhelming, too much all at once.

“Take care of me so — so good,” he cries out, screwing his eyes shut as he dulls the fire inside of him, the fast pace he’s set allowing for him to finally find relief. The lewd squelching sounds echo throughout the forest, and you attempt to tighten your grip as much as possible, and then it happens.

He cums, and he cums��hard. Jake’s body shakes beneath you, trembles as your hot breath fans against his cock, your tongue flat against his tip as you swipe away all of the cum that you’ve coaxed out of him. His head is tilted, rested against the tree, and his chest rises and falls quickly, gentle whimpers catching in his throat as you continue to stroke him through his orgasm.

The soft flexing of his thighs is delicious, and you watch as his stomach ripples, the muscles sheen with a mixture of sweat and cum. His head is pounding, and his tail flickers madly behind him. Exhaustion rolls over him as you pull away, the soft glistenining of cum and saliva staining your bottom lip, and he closes his eyes again, unable to look at you.

“Was that good?” You ask quietly, gently sheathing him with his loincloth, a dreamy smile on your lips.

“Good?” He repeats, and warmth flutters throughout his body as he feels you clamber atop of him, your arms wrapping around his body as you press into his chest. He instinctively reaches a hand around you, pulling you close, your small frame hugged tightly to his own. “That was perfect.”

[thunderhel]

Fratt Week Day 1 - Blood

Pairing: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock Word Count: 2089 Rated T Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Not quite actually Fratt yet, More Frank just making some observations

I haven't actively participated in anything fandom or posted any writing in over a year so shout out to @frattweek for giving me the inspiration to actually do something. Even if that something is writing 2k in a day and posting it unedited because it's late and I'm already a day behind 😬

Read on AO3

Frank thought a lot of things about Red.

About The Devil. Daredevil. Murdock. Matt.

All stupid names in Frank’s opinion. Red suited him better.

The Devil was probably the stupidest of all. I didn’t pick it, Frank. Though Daredevil wasn’t much further behind. Again, I didn’t pick it. Murdock was so unfortunate he almost felt bad for little Red, having to deal with that on top of everything else life had heaped onto him. I genuinely can’t tell if you’re just trying to be rude or if you’re actually just racist. Matt was too human. I…Frank, I am human. You know that right?

Frank knew. He just liked, every now and again, to hear Red say it out loud. Maybe to remind Frank, but maybe also a little to make him remind himself.

They didn’t always fight together. They didn’t even frequently fight together, but sometimes things just lined up in a way that Frank refused to classify as either good or bad, and they ended up on the same trail.

It had been the same shit as always, just under a different name. Drug dealers this time. The real deal, not kids trying to be inconspicuous in the alleyways, but the main runners, meeting suppliers at what was supposed to be an empty warehouse. The drugs weren’t the reason Frank nor Red were really after them, but putting a stop to that felt like a bonus.

They’d split up shortly after they’d arrived, Red slipping in through an open window, high enough it hadn’t been considered a priority to guard, while Frank had taken the perimeter, eliminating any threats -with beanbag rounds, Red, don’t be a bitch about it- before they could notice anything was amiss inside.

The bored guards outside hadn’t been an issue, but the armed security just past the bay doors had given Frank a bit of a run for his halfhearted promise to try to use nonlethal force. The problem was, nonlethal was much more difficult and time consuming than simply painting the concrete with brain matter, which meant Frank was slightly behind schedule when he finally made it to the sounds of Red’s fight.

He had intended to be backup, and he didn’t intend on slouching the responsibility. Frank took up his position alongside a wall of half broken crates, the stock of his gun pressed hard to his shoulder just in case anyone seemed about to slip past Red’s defenses, but he doubted he would be needed. Not with the way Red was fighting tonight.

It’s something my dad used to say, Red had told him one night, speaking low and slightly detached, the way he always did whenever he shared something about himself. About his past. There never seemed to be any rhyme or reason to his sudden decision to share. Frank half wondered if he was just talking to himself when he did, forgetting Frank was even there. When he’d go dead eyed in the ring and just turn into a monster as he beat the shit out of the other guy. He called it ‘letting the Devil out’.

Frank had never met Red’s old man, and he knew exactly three facts about him. He was a boxer, Red had loved him more than anything in the world, and if his version of letting the devil out was anything even close to Red’s, he was a fucking force to be reckoned with.

Because Red didn’t act like that devil business was a metaphor. Red was a fucking demon when he fought.

For everything he’d done and everywhere he’d been, Frank knew he’d never seen anything move the way Red fought. He moved like he was created to fight, like everything else he could possibly do with his life was just tossed on at the end like a bonus if he ever got bored of the incredible way the universe had decided to put him together. Every move was coordinated, almost liquid in the way he ducked below punches and arched himself out of the way of kicks.

Everything about him was power and speed, moving in ways Frank knew he hadn’t been able to bend at even in his prime, before delivering hits hard enough that Frank could hear the other guy’s bones snap from across the room. A pipe flew clumsily past Red’s head and he dispatched of its thrower so quickly, Frank wasn’t even sure exactly what he did to get the guy to make that exclamation of pain before he was slumping to the ground in a spray of blood.

A few drops of it hit Red’s chest plate, but the marks were lost among the myriad of streaks already decorating it. The red and black of his stupid devil suit made it hard to tell what was clean and what was filthy with blood, but the entire picture came together to create something so unsettlingly otherworldly that it hardly mattered. Blood streaked across his mask and was running over his chin, either from a lost tooth or a broken nose, or maybe none of it was his at all.

The bandages on his hands were a darker red, the color so thick it looked like they’d been dyed and not just stained. Blood was flecked and splattered across his chest, the wet spots glowing against the matte red and black. It was running down his chin, dripping onto his neck in a way that reminded Frank of an animal after a hunt. If he had turned right then and had taken a bite out of one of the men on the ground, Frank couldn’t say he would have been too terribly surprised.

Red tilted his head in that unnatural way he had, assessing the last man lying prone at his feet, or maybe the room as a whole. His shoulders were still hunched, fists curled at his sides as he remained locked in fight mode, his body clearly uncertain how to proceed without something else in front of him to punch. His lips curled back in what might have been a grin or a snarl or maybe just an animal reaction to the adrenaline still coursing through him.

Frank, for all his flaws, was 100% human. There was no mutation, no alien DNA or secret government experiment gone wrong. Just normal government black ops shit that went sideways and a stupid jarhead they’d tried to make a patsy. Just a human man with a short fuse and the memory of his daughter’s limp weight in his hands and nothing left to lose.

Red was a different story.

This was why he couldn’t call Red Matt. Matt - Matthew- was a human name. A normal name for a normal man, and Frank for all of his eye rolling at Red’s choir boy bullshit, didn’t think he would ever fully be convinced that Red was human.

Frank could see it in the way he moved, the way he slipped when he stopped talking. When he stopped trying to force himself down into that tiny box whose walls were made of religion and society and legality. When he let the devil out and went out hunting for blood.

He’d never tell him, had to keep the thought down low, but Frank thought he understood why Red didn’t kill. Not because God told him it was wrong, and not because of the law or whatever other bullshit Red liked to tell whoever had to listen to him talk about it. No, Red didn’t kill because of that animal thing inside of him.

He didn’t kill, because Frank was almost positive Red might like the feeling a little too much.

Red didn’t kill, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop.

It had to have only been seconds, not more than a brief pause in the chaos of the night, but Frank felt time slow down for the first time in a while as he stared at Red’s form in the half light, his chest rising and falling with the effort to breathe through the fight he’d just finished.

In those brief seconds Frank thought of the leopard he’d once seen while on tour, dragging a carcass up a tree. Thought of the way its fur had shown in the sunlight and the blood had marred those distinctive spots. He thought of the sound his old man’s GTO had made when it started up, that deep vibration that echoed in his chest. He thought of the glint of moonlight on his Ka-Bar, the kick back of his gun against his muscle, of the look Maria gave him over her shoulder the first night they spent together.

The last one kicked him back into reality, and he cleared his throat, spitting the taste of copper out of his mouth before he lowered his gun. Red’s head jerked the other way, a dog picking up a scent, as Frank finally approached.

He could forgive himself for the mix up of his thoughts, blaming it easily on the adrenaline and the scent of blood in the air.

He thought of that leopard again, of the way its muscles had moved beneath its fur as it had dragged its prey up that tree. Of Red’s fist slamming into the jaw of an idiot who didn’t know when to get out of the way. With a silent prayer of an apology to Maria, he begged her to understand - it was hard to see a predator move the way they did and not think it was a thing of beauty.

Frank had meant to grab Red’s arm, try and jerk him out of whatever blood fueled stupor he’d lost himself in, but his hand landed instead on the side of Red’s face, thumb pushing hard against his jaw as it swept through the blood not yet dried against his stubble. If Frank still felt fear as strongly as he used to, he might have been worried about getting bit.

“Easy there, Alter Boy, they’re down for the count.”

Red exhaled low and long, and Frank watched the struggle happen. Watched as Red tried to fight back that inhuman part of himself to resemble something decent. He made a sound almost like a huff - like he knew he should be annoyed with Frank but was going through the motions just because he thought he should. He didn’t pull away from Frank’s hand.

The idea of Red, of this wild cat in the shape of a man, tucked into a suit and tie and handing over legal documents at the courthouse and calling a judge ‘your honor’ was almost a joke.

“Not for long,” Red finally managed, his voice low and thick. “We need to get going.” He titled his head in a way that if Frank wasn’t careful, he might have said seemed like he was pushing further into Frank’s touch.

Frank thought of the heavy weight of a knife in his hand and the smell of gunpowder. He tried not to think of Maria’s skin beneath his fingers as he dropped his hand to Red’s shoulder.

Red was still tense, still poised to pounce at the slightest provocation. There was a hum beneath his skin, stronger than blood but not quite animal enough to call a growl. It burned beneath Frank’s fingertips, under muscle and blood and bone and leather. He squeezed once before he let go, but knocked their shoulders together as he turned.

“Then let’s get fucking going.’

Red gave a sharp incline of his head instead of a nod. He leaned away and spat a spray of blood, some of it flecking across the face of another man on the ground. The blood was bright red, a superficial wound in Red’s mouth, nothing to distract Frank from the blood still humming too fast through his own veins.

With a swipe of the back of his sleeve, Red halfheartedly cleaned his mouth before straightening back up. When he turned back to Frank, the pull of his lips couldn’t have been anything other than a grin, wide and vicious and sliding straight through Frank’s chest.

“Let’s get fucking going,” he echoed back, voice low and too excited for the amount of blood still smeared across his pale skin. His footsteps were almost silent as he led the way back out.

Frank slung his gun back into position, finger on the trigger and stock his shoulder, focusing on the weight in his hands, and not the sound of echo of Maria’s soft sigh against his ear.

[evaslytherpuff]

A snippet of the latest fanfic I am focused on.😭

TW: Azkaban Sebastian, Self harm, blood

It is breaking my heart to work on this one but the idea is fresh in my mind and I have to write it.💔

(Completely unedited and written in a rush.😬)

[impishtubist]

Prompt: Three times Sirius almost murdered someone in public over his fame and one time he tried to use his fame to his advantage (and failed) - bonus points if he was trying to bone someone😬

So, confession time: I actually started writing this prompt when you first gave it to me, without the boning part, so now I feel weird that the "failed" portion of the ficlet involves a child and does not involve boning 🤣

That being said, I think that someone *cough cough* could write a 5 + 1 ficlet about Sirius trying to get laid, and he fails 5 times because no one is impressed with his fame, and succeeds once because, idk, Kingsley is more famous than he is. ANYWAY. Here is your fic. It's very dumb and unedited. Enjoy.

---

“Mr. Black!”

“Lord Black!”

Shit. Sirius shoves his list into his pocket and pops the collar of his coat in an effort to shield most of his face from the cameras. He’d purposely come to Diagon at ass-o’clock on a Sunday, hoping to get his shopping out of the way before the crowds arrived. He’d managed to get gifts for everyone on his list, too, except for Harry.

Harry is the one he always has the hardest time shopping for, because the gifts have to be perfect. He accepts nothing less for his son. 

And now the paparazzi have spotted him, which means that he has to put off shopping for Harry until another day. He briefly contemplates setting the street (and the reporters) on fire as a distraction, but that would only draw more attention.

Instead, he ducks down an alley and Apparates home.

---

Harry glances over his shoulder, and quickly pales. “Uh, Sirius…”

“Don’t tell me,” Sirius sighs.

“Yeah.”

“We’ve in the fucking Maldives.” 

“They have reporters in the Maldives.”

Sirius glares at him, and Harry gives him an innocent smile. “They’re here for you, too, Potter.”

“I didn’t get voted Sexiest Wizard Alive by Witch Weekly this year. They’re here for you.” 

Sirius twirls his wand between his fingers, eyeing the approaching reporters warily. “Do you think I can transform them all into rabbits?”

“I don’t think Remus will bail you out of jail again. Aunt Andy said she wouldn’t, either.”

“Kingsley might.”

“Yeah, because he’s asked you to marry him three times and you keep turning him down. He’d do anything for you.”

“He would, wouldn’t he?”

Harry’s nose wrinkles. “Gross, Sirius.”

Sirius winks. “It’s the Black charm, Harry.”

“Yeah, well, can the Black charm get us out of here unnoticed and without any murder? I want some lunch.” 

---

Sirius steps into Remus’s office, and the whole room falls silent, sixteen pairs of eyes staring at him in astonishment.

“Er,” he says eloquently, “hello.”

Pandemonium breaks out after that, students clamoring for his autograph and his photograph and wanting to shake his hand. If he’d known that Remus held office hours at six o’clock on a Thursday of all days, he wouldn’t have stopped by to visit his friend after the Board of Governors meeting let out. 

“I’m going to kill you,” he mutters under his breath at one point, while three awestruck first-years try to get his attention. 

“No, you won’t,” Remus says cheerfully. “You need your best man intact for the wedding.”

---

“Mummy, I can’t see!” 

“Shh, darling.”

“But I can’t. He’s too tall.”

“Here, Melinda, why don’t you sit on Mama’s lap? That will help you be taller, won’t it?”

There’s some shuffling, and then a huff. “I still can’t see.”

Sirius can’t help it. Curious, he twists around in his seat to find a young girl glaring at him. She can’t be older than Lily Luna, and she’s dressed in a frilly princess dress for the show. Her mothers gape at him.

“Oh!” the one holding Melinda exclaims. “Oh, Lord Black, I am so sorry--”

“It’s quite alright,” he says, giving Melinda the patented and dazzling Black smile. She remains unmoved. “I am very tall, aren’t I?”

“I wanna see the dancing,” Melinda pouts.

“Why don’t we switch?” Kingsley suggests, and he swaps seats with Sirius. 

“You’re too tall, too,” Melinda informs him. “Mummy, can I sit on your shoulders?”

“No, baby, I don’t think the theater would like that very much.”

“But how am I supposed to see Clara?” Melinda demands. “And the dancing?” 

“We’ll switch seats with you,” Sirius says, and both of Melinda’s mothers look mortified.

“Oh, no, Lord Black--”

“We couldn’t possibly--”

“I insist,” he says, getting up, and Kingsley follows him. The two women get up after a moment’s hesitation and take their seats, Melinda on one lap. “Is that better, my lady?”

“Yes,” Melinda says, not sparing him a glance. 

“Melinda,” one of her mothers scolds. “What do we say?”

Melinda turns around to look at Sirius. “What’s your name?”

“Sirius.”

Her nose wrinkles. “That’s a funny name.”

“Melinda!”

“Thank you, Sirius,” Melinda says primly, and then she turns around again, Sirius utterly forgotten.

Her mothers are bright red. Sirius leans forward.

“My granddaughter is five,” he says to them. “I've never been so humbled in my life.”

[labrat-wasteland-wonders]

Well... I'm making a Spotify playlist to go for a ride around the commonwealth/Nuka-World with Gage and so far I have 57 songs (I also have one playlist for Hancock, one for Nicky and one for my OC Texas Red but they still need to be filled in).

The good thing is that I am going to leave it HERE.

The bad thing is that I've chosen the songs, and yes, I've based on Gage's personality to make it but I don't know if anyone besides me will like it 😬

[I'm also getting the urge to do virtual photography again so I might upload some pictures soon! Here are a few unedited photos of our favorite raider]:

[coffinkissez]

noble bell npc hcs

me n @localanimeidiot’s hcs that we’ve been working on since like…. mid October 😭😭 sprite edits were done by us both

robinette auclair - student council aide

transfem lesbian <3 18 NO IDEA what a student council aide does but I googled it and got��� nothing! so in my mind she does what a treasurer does which is maintain financial records / work with the budget / plan fundraisers etc she lives close to the school in the city with her mother <3 they originally lived in a small town near fleur city when she was little and moved after the death of Robin’s father to be closer to family and so her mother could get a better job her mom either owns a local business or works high up in a big one and helps sponsor school events + taught Robin how to handle money properly and is partially why Robin got the treasurer spot very silly but also very competent has a gf based off of esmerelda ‼️ CANNOTTT flirt for shit tho. girl is NOT smooth she is very fashionable though :]

august lavigne - student council vice president

transmasc 18 as well gay and in love with Rollo Flamme 🤢 idk it’s just a silly (not) unrequited crush he’ll probably get over it hopefully Lives in that same small town mentioned before, more specifically though it’s based on the town from beauty and the beast and we hc Vargas to be from there along with many ocs!! his family owns a small winery that dates back a few generations his family is HUGE tons of cousins aunts and uncles etc has a tooth gap and is insecure about it, covers his mouth partially when he laughs. he had braces to fix it, but stopped wearing his retainer after and the gap came back his home is like… an hour drive from nbc so he stays in the dorms

best friends !!!

were originally childhood friends when they were little they would play in the vineyards together <3 WERE HEARTBROKEN WHEN ROBIN HAD TO MOVE <//3 they don’t recognize each other when they meet again at NBC, but they do become fast friends one day one of them shows a childhood photo and the other goes… “HEY THATS ME” …/hj probably bc they were little still identified with their agab and added to the whole not recognizing each other thing attached at the hip it’s rare to see them without the other because robins family lives in the city she’ll go back to her home over the weekends instead of staying at the dorms and her mom insists August stays with them <3 her mom ADORES august rollo not so much Augusts family returns this kindness and invites Robin and her mom over during holiday breaks <3 overall very wholesome

…

greenish-black hair? yellow eyes??? bird name???? potential history of deadbeat dadism?????? ( cough malleus cough ) MAYBE HER DAD ISNT DEAD /j 😭😭 I pinky promise Crowley isn’t her dad

if anyone actually read this who wants part two and three 😬😬 also I posted this unedited and unchecked so if there’s any errors do please ignore

[onlyswan]

i apologize for being mia!! life has been overwhelming with a mix of good and bad / and tbh i currently feel very unconfident with my writing (impostor syndrome amirite) 🫡 but i’m trying to overcome it with taking things slow and allowing my brain to rest a little :] the iw!entry i’m working on is divided into seven (??? atleast that’s the plan) parts and i’ve kinda finished four. i have 5k words so far and it’s stillll unedited so 😬 let’s see how it goes…

i hope everyone is staying healthy and choosing to be kind to themselves and others everyday 🩷 i love you!!!

[bekkathyst]

I have so much to do but I’m slowly getting through it! Tomorrow morning I’ll be getting back to emails that I need to catch up on.

I’m planning to have my Patreon ready by Saturday 😬

And tomorrow I should have more journals and prints finally on the website! I didn’t think it would take me this long to get through all my unedited photos but I’m finally almost done lol

I hope you enjoy the upcoming photo sets- there’s going to be a lot!

And finally, I think unfortunately my shipment isn’t arriving this week, so the sale will be next weekend. 😩

[1toreyouapart]

What It Cost

****THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY BASED ON REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE OR MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS STORY OUTSIDE OF LILITH AND SADIE AND MAYBE A COUPLE OTHERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT UP FOR FANFIC INVOLVING REAL PEOPLE***

Terrible summary: Five years since she last spoke to him. Since she last saw him. Now his face and his voice is everywhere. She can't escape him.

Five years ago Noah destroyed her and the life they had built. Now he’s back and seeking to make amends. As much as she wants to say that it's too little too late, is it?

CW/TW: Angst, mention of addiction, cheating. Mention of character death. Language. Smut (later on). PinV, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it, friends), oral (f&m receiving). All smutty warnings happen later on, so I’ll update TW/CW warning labels as those parts are written and posted. If I forget anything, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!

A/N: Currently unedited. Sorry. 😬 Read at your own risk, I guess. 😅 Also no word count because I’m lame.

Part 1

Part 2-Noah

"Lilly's on her way." Nicholas dropped down in the chair next to him.

Noah's heart sank into his stomach. Five years of successfully staying out of her way was about to go to shit. At first he'd done it to make it easier on her. Or so he told himself. But after five years, he had to admit it was because he was nothing but a coward, too scared to face the worst mistake he'd ever made. Hurting her. He could still see the look on her face when he'd come home that morning.

The way those brilliant blue eyes of hers, bloodshot from lack of sleep and undoubtedly hours of crying, tracked his movements as he quietly went up the stairs to take a shower. The pain etched on her face. He'd never seen her so fragile. He'd left the shower and gone downstairs, ready for her anger. Ready for the fight that he was sure was going to happen after what he'd done. Instead he'd gone down just in time to watch her pull out of the driveway. No yelling. No screaming. No crying. She just left. And he did nothing to try to stop her. He knew what he had done. The final nail in the coffin.

"I should leave. I'm not needed here."

"Stop being a fucking coward. I love you, man. But you can't run from what you did forever. Been sober for three years now and you're still too chicken shit to face her."

Ouch. He was right, but ouch. Noah had made amends with everyone he had hurt during those years he had tried to drink himself to death. But the thought of facing her fucking terrified him. Before that last year he had been sure he was going to marry her someday. Shit, even during that last year of their relationship he had been sure of it. Up until he just kept fucking it up more and more, too chicken shit to face his own demons like a grownup.

"Does she know I'm here?"

"Yes. We all promised to keep you away from her unless she wants to speak to you."

Noah grimaced. Sure, he had known deep down that they all kept in contact with her. She was like everyone's little sister. He didn't expect them to just drop out of her life, or her theirs. She'd known all but Nicholas longer than he'd known them, anyway. That didn't stop him from feeling a little hurt by them keeping it from him for so long, though. They could have been honest with him. He knew he had fucked up. He had known the second he let another woman hang all over him that night. Knew as soon as he followed her out the door instead of going straight home to the woman that had moved all the way across the country with him. Bought a house with him.

The door opened and his breath caught in his throat, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. Palms sweaty he looked up, leg starting to bounce anxiously. There she stood, Jolly wrapping her up in a tight hug. Time seemed to stand still as she turned towards him, her impossibly blue eyes locking on his. No anger. No hatred. Not even a hint of an emotion in them. Just blank. Fuck.

***

Noah shifted uncomfortably, trying his best not to stare at her. Everyone was gathered in the backyard, a fire in the pit, sharing stories of Danny. All evening he had avoided being near her, though everything in him begged to touch her. It was enough to slowly drive him insane. All he wanted was to sit next to her. Hold her hand. Shit, just hold her. To hear her say his name again. But he couldn't do that anymore. He had given up that right.

Lilith's laugh filtered through everything else, and he was sure he was going to pass out right there where he sat, directly across the fire from her. Instead he took a sip of his water, if for nothing else other than a distraction.

"Noah, you have to finish telling them. I can't." Lilith interrupted his thoughts, her laughter echoing in his head. She spoke to him? Said his name? Oh, fuck.

"Jolly asked how she got the Thumbelina nickname," Nicholas whispered, knowing he had been too caught up in his head to know.

Noah smirked, remembering Danny telling him about this story on the phone that day.

"Danny stopped by when we were on tour to check in on her, like I had asked. Apparently she was too caught up in planting those flowers right back there," he gestured towards the flower bush she had planted all those years ago. "And when he said hi she threw one of the bushes at him, thinking he was an intruder." Noah couldn't help but join her in her laughter at the memory. "Danny dubbed her Thumbelina from that moment on."

Noah met her eyes from across the fire as they laughed together, and suddenly everything felt somewhat okay. There was joy back in her eyes, etched across her face. Her smile took over her face, breathing life back into her. He may not be the cause of it, but it was a sight he thought he'd never see again.

"Wait. I thought Noah gave you that nickname. Who started calling you Bambi?" Jolly interjected.

Noah choked on his water, sputtering at the nickname he had always called her. That was one of his favorite memories, though rather private. And not a story he was keen on telling without her permission. The way she had insisted that she didn't need him to help her up after the first time they'd had sex. How she had stumbled and flipped him off the second he said "You sure about that, Bambi?"

Lilith laughed. A full on genuine laugh that came from her toes. God, he had missed that sound. He had missed the way she never held back her true laugh. The way she laughed with every fiber of her being.

Jolly looked between the two of them, her unable to control her laughter, him hiding his face the best he could. Noah watched as realization set into his friends features, and quickly avoided eye contact with him.

"Awe, man! What the fuck?"

Noah couldn't hold back his own laughter anymore, joining Lilith. Jesus Christ, he had missed this. Missed her.

Tags: @haylaansmi @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[butmakeitgayblog]

Can we get a snippet of whatever you are writing for #MBFW? Kind of missing my favorite two idiots.

Aight this completely unedited, literally just copy and pasted from the doc without looking it over so excuse any mess ups 😬

Snippet from their first time

/////////

The hallway smelled of stale perfume and mildew with just a hint of old, teenage sweat. The air thick with hormones and heisted dining hall treasures left forgotten and traces of lingering academic regret. The carpet muffled the thuds of their footsteps as they took their sweet tipsy time, winding away from the communal clump of rooms toward the block of private singles on the other side.

Lexa wondered if it was the alcohol flowing through her veins that altered her brain power, or if the kiss that still sat heavy on her lips was entirely to blame. She ran her tongue along her teeth, ground it against the ridged roof of her mouth in a nervous tick, still tasting hints of cherry vodka mixed with the sweetness of her best friend's lips.

The strum and thump of base grew distant, swelled and died along with the few snickered cheers at their departure. The fingers lazily twined with her own gave a little squeeze when they pulled even with a now familiar door. She'd been wet for hours. Biting her lip and digging her nails in just too hard for comfort, anything to just to keep her composure while surrounded by the chatter of upperclassmen. Bodies pressed tight in a sea of sweaty bodies, moving to the base of unknown songs as she'd held Clarke close. Ass grinding into the cradle of her hips. Lips ghosting lines along her neck

She'll wonder for years if she looked as dopey as she felt, smiling so brightly, so gently in the dimmed light of that dorm corridor. But it didn't matter. Not when blue eyes glanced at her with such heat over the bend of a bare shoulder. 

Blood rushed hot in Lexa's veins when they pulled to a stop just outside Clarke's door. The alcohol and perfume and sweat from too many wasted touches as they'd grinded rather obscenely on the makeshift dance floor left Lexa feeling greedy. Hungry for more. 

She crowded into Clarke's space, pushing her hips firm against the curve of Clarke's ass. Felt Clarke's shudder as she smoothed her palms over her waist, over her ribs, caressed the softness of her belly and down. 

Fingers skating over the button and zip, they nearly collapsed against the door, moan echoing moan when Lexa found the seam of tight jeans and cupped the heat between Clarke's legs. 

She grinned at the buck of Clarke's hips, both writhing with each grind against her palm as Lexa rubbed at the wetness hidden beneath tight jeans that let her strokes move so easily. Her other hand slipped up Clarke's ribs and cupped the generous curve of her breast, her arms around Clarke's waist the only thing keeping them up. 

Clarke's head fell with a thunk against her door as she covered the hand on her breast and squeezed. "Fuck, Lex."

"I'm trying, love."

Her words, whispered hot into the skin of Clarke's neck, earned her a delicious little whimper.

Clarke unlocked the door with an impatient grunt and shoved it wide, stumbling out of Lexa's hold just long enough to whip around and reach for her again. To find Lexa's hands and pull her closer. Palm to palm, fingers laced, and a spark of fire in blue eyes.

"You coming?" Clarke asked in a teasing hush, using her grip to sway Lexa into her till their chests brushed.

Lexa gave a whiskey-laced nod.

If she had her way, there wasn't a prayer's chance in hell they would be doing anything else.

She let herself be pulled over the threshold. Barely noticed when the door was kicked closed behind her with a rather inconsiderate slam. Couldn't be bothered to take in one single thing other than her friend, this siren, beckoning her forward to a most pleasurable kind of death. Her heart raced as she matched every one of Clarke's slinking steps across the dorm room. Stalking her. Crowding Clarke toward the bed she'd spent hours lounged across pretending to study, sneaking glances and too-intimate touches that never felt like enough, while dreaming of this exact moment.

Her stomach swooped at the look of hunger that darkened such warm and inviting blue. Faces so close she felt each fan of Clarke's breath, so close all it would take was a lift of Lexa's chin to make the charged energy of the spell break. 

It didn't feel strange to blindly sneak her fingers under the soft cotton of Clarke's shirt. To find the fiery warmth of skin that laid below. It didn't feel strange to match Clarke's pleased sigh when she obediently raised her arms, letting Lexa pull the shirt over her head in a cascade of blonde that stuck wild and frizzed in the aftermath. 

It felt right. 

With how easy it all was. 

To be touching her friend so intimately. To feel how easily they could shift from serious to giggling with just a look as Lexa reached out and tucked back a few particularly wild curls. 

Half-drunk laughs bounced off paper-thin walls between the heat of deep, breathy kisses. Clarke wrenched Lexa's shirt off far less gently, tossing it aside without a care before reeling them back together in a clash of skin. 

It felt right to take a moment when their legs hit the bed to kiss her. To let their smiles fall away as Lexa pressed close. Flush against the heated skin of Clarke's body. Belly to belly. Breast to breast, feeling the hard peaks of Clarke's nipples against her own through her bra.

Fingers found the sweat dampened curls that clung along her neck and tugged Lexa into a slower, languid kiss. And Lexa really didn't understand how she had managed these few weeks since they'd met. Of not letting herself kiss her best friend. She couldn't fathom how she'd survived without it, how'd she'd just let herself walk away time and again. Couldn't begin to imagine ever going back to days of not having Clarke, exactly like this…

She settled in Clarke's lap, the tired springs from the surely used-and-abused mattress groaning under their weight as she straddled jean-clad thighs. It felt powerful in that moment, rising up on her knees and feeling the stretch of Clarke's neck as she reached to follow. It felt powerful leaning over her. Seeing such yearning just for her. Leaning down to recapture those perfectly kiss-sheened lips.

Hands slipped up her spine in drags of fingertips and tickling nails as teeth raked over her bottom lip, moaning at the soothing caress of satin tongue that followed. Her hips jerked with a pulse of arousal that pounded hot between her thighs, nodding in a hurry when Clarke clipped Lexa's bra free and followed with her own. Arms twisting and fumbling in the rush to rid themselves of any barriers left until they were bare. Leaving them open to wandering eyes and hands, each hissing in pleasured relief at the soft crush of their breasts. 

The groaned sound of Clarke's, "Fuck, I need you," nearly burned Lexa alive.

They pulled back just far enough to gulp down a lungful of air, each still grasping at any bit of skin within reach to keep them close. 

"What do you like?" Clarke panted in lust-laden breaths between nips along Lexa's chin, sucking marks Lexa knew she'd pretend to be mad about later as fingers dipped below the waistline of her jeans.

Lost in the feel of hands greedily palming her ass, all Lexa could manage is a strangled, "I don't know."

"Fingers or tongue, babe."

"Either. Just— Whatever you want."

"No, beautiful. I wanna hear you tell me how to how to make you come."

Lexa bit her lip with whimper. "I don't know, just anything. Whatever you want, love. I trust you."

The lips against her collarbones kissed to a devastatingly slow stop.

"Lex... Have you done this before?"

Even in the haze of just how fucking turned on she was and, god, how good Clarke's teeth, lips and tongue felt dragging across her skin, Lexa heard the muffled question against her skin and felt every muscle in her body tense. 

"Um," she croaked around the desert lodged in her throat, weighing her answer before settling on the truth. "... No." 

It really shouldn't have felt like a revelation at all because she'd been honest with Clarke, with only Clarke, about her upbringing and the years spent mostly in solitude. Hiding these particular pieces of herself away in the shadows of her small town.

But still, it'd become a habit in the weeks leading up to this moment. To skirt around the topic of exes and intimacy, to along the grey areas between insulation and outright lying about all things Lexa wasn't entirely well versed in. 

Beyond theory, that is. 

She wasn't ashamed to admit it, despite the distinct sudden grip of her fingers on Clarke's shoulders, because she knew the fundamentals backwards and front (quite literally). Had considered herself a walking lesbian encyclopedia since the ripe old age of sixteen, and could rattle off every position and erogenous zone with an ease that she was convinced would put her high school sex ed teacher to shame. 

The problem was, embarrassingly, she'd never actually quite gotten around to put all her hard earned knowledge into action. Not with her grandfather and not with balancing her schoolwork and jobs, and she certainly hadn't dared to slip one toe out of line (much less a finger) when accepting the hospitality of those who'd let her crash on their couch for a few days. 

So it really shouldn't have been an surprise. 

And yet she prepared herself for a stutter of hands all the same. She scrunched her eyes shut to block out the devastation that would come of any judgmental looks when Clarke inevitably pulled back and pushed her away. 

Her stomach dropped at the thought of her friend's incredulous look of surprise and dismay.

But… it never came.

In the rather scant amount of time that had seemed to stretch on for miles within the confines of Lexa's own mind, the hot mouth working against her skin had trailed up her neck in a line of lingering kisses to wrap around her earlobe and suck. 

She felt the sting of Clarke's smile and the bite of her grin. Felt as much as heard Clarke husk in a voice made of pure sex and smoke against her ear, "Don't worry, baby. I'll show you."

/////////

[stxrliasfics]

seven sentence sunday (fic spoiler!)

i was tagged by the lovely @silassstingy

this isn’t exactly seven words but i didn’t want this to end abruptly lol! this is an upcoming (and unedited 😬) modern day jeric oneshot that i have planned for valentine’s day <33

He feels his eyes getting heavy by the minute as they rush to keep up with the words on the pages. The only sound in the room is from the waves on the beach crashing against shore, white noise for relaxing. Jack's done with relaxing though. He closes his book, tossing it to the floor and sighing. If he kept relaxing here he'd only end up falling asleep and he didn't want that right now.

He padded over to the other room, a living room of sorts, where Eric was. His husband wasn't posed in fetal position on the couch anymore. Instead he had a crossword in his lap, reading glasses tilted on the bridge of his nose. Jack’s face warmed at the sight.

*i don’t know who to tag, so if any writers are interested in joining in, you’re welcome to!*

[cjlouwho]

Not me thinking your full name was CJ and wondering why you had to block out that much text on the message you got ahhhhhh 😬

Unedited version 🙏🏻