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theprenderelliepalace · 2 days

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Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Perception

Summary: Y/N drops some books off at the Salvatore residence, she expects to find trouble, being the odd one out and everything, she doesn't expect his name to be Damon Salvatore.

Warnings: For mature Audiences, themes of assault, drunk Damon (well isn't that new? Said no one ever.), uh, does a 'takes no shit' !reader count as a trigger?, Elena being a mysterious plot point

Words: 1.7k

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I watched Elena Gilbert make this weird expression at me... Caroline was saying something stupid, Bonnie was arguing with that judgemental gleam in her hazel eyes, but what caught my attention, was that foreboding purse of Elena's lips. The furrow of her flawless brow, the way her eyes sparked with something that scared me. It was almost hidden, she smiled wryly in my direction. Her eyes like daggers that penetrated my skull, it made me shiver; as I felt like I had been stripped bare of anything that belonged to me in that moment. Any ground or loyalty I had in our friend-group, I knew was gone, with the flick of Elena's hair behind her shoulder- my other friends hadn't even realised yet, but they would. Come morning I would be a stranger, even to my closest friends since kindergarten. I would be on the fringe of everything I used to know.

I was 12 when I stopped hanging out with the most popular girls in Mystic Falls. Strangley, I never regretted that day. What I had seen in my closest friend, that unexplainable glint about her that still gave me nightmares, had opened my eyes to something dark in the shitty little town I'd spent my entire life in. I said I'd never regretted that day, that was until the vampires came...

~~~~~

"Yes Care, i will be there before dark." I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing the annoying voice on the other end of the line to go bother someone else. "No, I did not tell Stefan." I responded dryly. Elena was in danger, yet again. Klaus was on the prowl, for the daggers, for Elena's blood, for all of us... And Caroline was bugging me about my communication skills. "Well seeing as I'm dropping these old spellbooks for Bonnie at the boarding house, I figure, 'Hey, why not kill two vampires with one study session from hell." I groaned internally as Caroline got heated over the phone. I slammed the back door to my dad's old Toyota corolla, opening the drivers side and collapsing into the leather seat. "Then take it up with someone who cares Caroline. Sorry, I'm driving through a tunnel, on an airplane, while hanging up the phone."

I can't even remember what I did with my phone, all I know is that I started my engine and reversed out of my driveway, heading for the outskirts of the town and towards the infamous Salvatore residence.

It had been 4 goddamm years since I called those girls my friends. I had seen an entire 'nother leap year, in the time it took for these bitches to deem me useful. I travled with my mom, Rome, Paris, India, Africa. I would've gotten my high-school diploma six months ago, if I hadn't had to move back to this ancient cesspool of a town.

And don't misunderstand me, that is the time it took for my life to go to crap. Vampires, the Salvatore Brothers, Elena... I shuddered in my seat, clenching my hands around the wheel as I thought about her.

I was so lost in my thoughts, that I jumped when I reached the boarding house. It was tall and looming, with an ominous darkness catching the corner of my eye. I sighed as I parked, readying myself for the chaos of the two people I despised more than Mystic High's Queen Bee. You see, in the last 6 months I had discovered something about myself, I was perceptive. Yes, I have always been a little more aware than perhaps usual, but it was more than that. I was something supernatural, I didn't know what but I did know that I could see magic, hear a vampires nearly imperceptible heartbeat and feel the forces of nature that others couldn't even dream about.

It was strange, knowing you could see other people when they never expected to be seen at all. I could read their faces, know their tells, pick apart their lies. It was why I was suddenly on the Mystic Falls supernatural hit-teams most wanted list. I could see. I scoffed as I pulled the back door of my car open. Heaving the heavy books into my arms, shifing my weight into my lower back as I ambled up the porch steps to the front door. If all these people needed me for was my sight, then these assholes should really get their eyes checked.

The door was already open, I ducked in sideways, trying to keep my balance while toppling books inched out of my grip. "Let me take those off your hands." I audibly groaned, the voice that assaulted my ears was silky smooth, like fine wine pouring into my ears.

"Damon, look what the bat dragged in." I couldn't see him over the pile of scripts and dusty memoirs of old witches, but I could hear his stupid smirk as he took the pile away from me.

"Still as snarky as ever Y/N. Didn't your mummy ever teach you to be nice to charming men who carry your books?" Anyone else wouldn't have noticed the foe-disdain in his voice, or the slight quicking pace in his pulse, of course, I'm not anyone else.

"Oh! That's what the karate classes were for." I looked at him now, this tall,brooding, Greek God of a man was attracted to me. Stupid I know. That's what I thought too, but I've never been wrong. Especially not since I came into my powers. Normally I would take the shot, go for it, but I had no chance. He was in love with his brothers girlfriend, a stupider decision if you ask me.

"Glad I've only ever seen you in action once or twice then." He smirked. I walked past him and into the living room. The fire was roaring, as I often found it was when Damon was alone on a Thrusday through Sunday afternoon. Where he was the rest of the time, I hadn't had the stomach to ask. I laughed unconvincingly.

"Didn't I almost shoot you in the face when you first tried to use me as a human pincushion?" He set the books down with a thud on the ornate coffee table. I set mine down with a far greater deal of grace. He frowned at me.

"Details, details. Besides," He took a step towards me, he smelled like alcohol and something else..."the way to a vampire, is always through his heart." He grabbed my hand, gently at first, clinging onto it as I tried to pull away. He made me touch his chest, it was firm and rising jaggedly with air he didn't need.

I glared at him. "You're drunk. Go leech on something else," i paused "leech." He laughed, it sent shivers down my spine, his eyes were deadly and cold. He pulled me flush against him. I wasn't unused to this radical "Damon Behavior", but there was something wild about his eyes. Something needy. To be honest, maybe I was needy too.

"Someone should teach you manners little lady." Or maybe not. I timed it perfectly, jutting my elbow out from between us into his diaphragm, he caught my arm, blocking it and shifting my upper body to the right. His lips found my ear, his breath tickled as he whispered into my hair. "One day that mouth of yours will bite off more than those pretty little lips can chew.

"Someone should teach you the modern cure for the insufferable womanizer." I spat. Then suddenly- I was on the couch, the fire crackled so loudly in my ears I thought my head would explode. Damon was leaning over me. His ebony hair feathered against his forehead, his lips were inches from mine, our breath mingled into each other. I felt his body become hotter above me, it was almost startling compared to his cool demeanor at the door. "Damon, please. Use at least one brain cell to think about this stupid decision you're making-"

He cut me off, "See that's the thing Y/N, you talk to me with that foul little mouth of yours and think it's okay. No one talks to me like that." For the first time in an agonizing ten minutes he looked away from me. "I never let anyone talk to me like that. But its like this-" if we had been having this conversation like normal people, I would've smiled at the hint of Italian in his accent. "I do let you. You drive me crazy. I hate you for that."

I tensed. "Well people who hate each other don't treat one another like this. So one of us is lying." I don't know if I knew who was lying to themselves between the both of us, but maybe that would give me enough of a chance to distract him and then-

And then he was kissing me. It was deep and firey. He moaned against my lips as he parted them with his tongue, his grip around my waist tightened as he explored my mouth. It all happened so quickly, I barely began to understand what was happening before "I don't like lying Y/N."

What the hell was that?

He bolted away from me and was on the other side of the room so fast he was only a blur. He started to say something, probably to shout at me in his drunken stupor, but I was quicker- "Did you say that out-loud?" I asked, I was breathless and disgusted and fascinated all in the span of 5 seconds.

He made a face at me. "The hell, "did I say that?" He mocked my question,he was agitated, borderline disbelieving. "I was in the middle of kissing you, moron. I did not say that. What the hell did you do?" He held his arms close to his chest, obviously he felt as violated as I did. I scowled at him.

"Then, moron, did you think it?" He looked at me with big, blue, question- filled eyes.

"I-"

"Y/N?" Shit, Bonnie, i glanced to the door. I turned back to the fireplace and the leather-clad, bad boy vampire was gone. I pinched the bridge of my nose... worst timing ever Bonnie Bennet...

What the hell just happened?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ta-da! Ooo la, la... I'm a sucker (haha, get it?) for mystery and suspense.

Did you like the little nudge towards something Elena related, without having to deal with like, Elena..?

But chill, there will be a little bit of everything for all you shippers.

I don't know where I'm going to take this story yet, so feel free to Ask, or request or whatever and maybe things will turn in your favour... :0

#tvd universe #blogger #damon salvatore #caroline forbes #elena gilbert #damon salvatore x reader #damon x reader #damon x elena #the vampire diaries #bonnie bennett #mystic falls #y/n #blogging #one shot #stefan salvatore

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bl33ditout · 1 year

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tagged by @coping-via-clint-eastwood

rules: shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people 🎶

10.

tysm for the tag friend! thought i'd do a little more "visual" version of this for once. these are always so fun to partake in :D

tagging: @mollyhale @666yen @send-her-to-heaven @violetbudd @corpsemaggot @feelingsofaithless @meteoratheory @munekitareal @ominous-mongoose @fentanylaced and anybody else who wants to do it :D

#fun fact i nearly shit my pants of excitement when i heard that in this moment song at the end of john wick 4 bro i was STOKED #i was happy for maria and her band to get some mainstream recognition plus the song is awesome #no i didn't literally shit myself lol but you get the idea #also adema's the way you like it still in my on repeat after over a year since i discovered them #totally kickass #and limp bizkit brainrot go brrrr #tagging game

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shojizbae · 2 months

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Rave Baby

Spencer Reid x Reader

After a long case, some of the team pitstops at your apartment, and Morgan takes the liberty of searching through some memories. He comes across some scandalous photos that light a fire in Reid.

This last case was challenging. To make it worse, the power had gone out in DC due to a blackout. With a chirp, I told the team that I always had a generator and that we could cool with some coronas in my fridge. Hotch had declined, stating the necessity of returning to his wife and son. I had thrown open all the windows and cranked the AC, attempting to push out all the hot air. With my permission, Derek had distributed beers from my fridge and found a bag of chips.

A battery-powered radio was located, and my CDs were run through to find something to unwind with. With a sigh, Emily sank onto my couch and sipped her beer.

"Uhh, I can't tell you how nice your apartment is."

"Yeah," JJ groaned from the corner, holding her hair up and sticking her face in the AC vent. Derek was still looking through my belongings when he came across a Scooter CD.

"Well, well, well, where did a girl like you find this type of music?" I looked at the album cover.

"Oh, that's from my college days." I tried to dismiss it. This isn't the sort of stuff I would share with my coworkers.

"Really? Let's go ahead and pop this in."

"No don't!" I tried to launch it at him before he could open it, but it was too late. A few photos I took the night I bought that CD slipped into his lap.

"Woah ho ho!" Spencer, who had been content to sift through my shitty romance novels, peaked his head up like a prairie dog at the sound of Derek's chuckle. "What do we have here?" He held up one photo, and I hid behind my beer bottle.

"That was years ago," I whined

"What is this?" Spencer came to the group, attention fully peaked

"It's (Y/n). At a rave." Spencer snatched the photo out of Morgans's hand like a cat but Emily nearly yelled

"Shut up, let me see." she slammed her glass bottle on the table and grabbed one of the photos from him

"No way," JJ stated, following Spencer into the circle to look at the evidence. "I could never imagine you at a rave. I've seen you get upset that you left your clothes in the washing machine."

"They'll get moldy," I whined

"Holy shit. Where was this?" Emily inspects a photo of me in a bikini, fluffy leg warmers, and a matching bucket hat. "Look at your butt where were you hiding this." She makes an attempt to check me out, but I sink further into my couch

"I don't know, I was never sober in the 72 hours around a rave."

"Oh yeah? What did you take?" Morgan begged

"All sorts of crap, mostly hallucinogens. My rave mentor told me music is better when you're high."

"So why'd you stop going?" Emily asked

"I grew up."

"You grew up?" JJ asked, putting the photo on the table

"Yeah," I rubbed my hands up and down my thigh and sighed. I wasn't entirely ready to trauma-dump the team, but here I was. "My uncle, who basically raised me, passed on Thanksgiving in the sophomore year of my bachelor's. Hallucinogens made it easy not to grieve, and loud music blocked my ability to think. I would dance around and tell everyone that 'tonight was the night,' and I was 'finally free,' but I would just see him after a while. He would ask me, 'Why are you doing this, my dove?'. I couldn't ignore him anymore, so I just stopped. Put all my teeny bikinis in a box and put it past me." I cleared my throat, realizing that I had put a damper on the mood

"We could play the CD. I think I'll still remember the rhythm." I switched in the discs and let the synth radiate through my living room. Immediately, I felt the groove, letting it carry my limbs airily around me. I felt myself disconnect as the beat continued to pump. Before I could drift away wholly, Emilie's voice brought me down to earth.

"You packed all this away? That means you still have it?"

"Yeah, in a box in the back of my closet." before I could discover my mistake, she darted to the back of my apartment, and JJ took off with her.

"Oh hell, I gotta see this." Derek got up and dropped the last of the photos. Reid dutifully packed them up and sifted through the photos, stopping on one.

"What did you find, Spence?" I crawled toward him slowly. I gasped at the photo. My Rave mom, Zoe, who was only 4 months older than me, and I were posing together. He sifted through the images with it and stacked them. I gasped at the image. The photo on the top was of Zoe throwing up a peace sign, showing the neon pink paint on her palms, and a green hand was playfully on my throat. Both of our bodies had been splattered with neon ain't, but noticeably, I had two big hands brink on the triangle bikini we wore. One pink, one green.

The picture below was of Zoe and I very dramatically kissing. Zoe had made smudged hand prints on my ass. I had a leg up on her hip, and you could see drool and lipstick around each other mouths.

"I hardly even remember that night, and I thought it was trendy to act gay." I pulled the pictures from his hand and returned them to the case. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Why are you apologizing? Y-you had fun."

"Yeah, but you're my colleague. This is embarrassing and you probably are ashamed of me."

"Actually, I'm jealous. In college, I had no friends and didn't go to parties. I was, I am, a loser. You had fun."

"Did you not hear my spiel about using drugs not to think?"

"Yeah, but you were hot." That shocked you. He was only two beers deep, and Reid was spilling his secrets.

You laughed in shock.

"Spencer, you can't say things like that." I slapped at his chest playfully.

"WELL!" I could hear Derek's strained voice. "This!" he put the giant plastic tub on the floor next to us. "This is one heavy bucket of slutty clothes."

"I want to try something on!" JJ greedily popped the snaps on the cover. With giggles, JJ and Emily started pulling out bikinis that looked like they were made out of spider webs.

"Woah ho ho!" Derek giggled, holding up a low-rise thong. "I hope you wore a jacket."

"Alright, that's enough!" I grabbed it from his reach

"Hey, could I borrow one of these?" JJ asked. "Will has been asking for something new."

"Yeah, but don't borrow it. I don't want it back." I made a face of disgust

"Yeah, I might want to just wear one around my apartment?" Emily held something balled up

"Take as many as you want. I won't wear them again. I should sell them. I could finally go on vacation."

"Woah woah woah, if you sell these, what will you wear on vacation?" Derek joked

"Clothes." I snatched another piece of hosiery from him. My knees cracked as I stood and got another beer from the kitchen. "Now, get out of my panties." I swatted him with the bottoms as I walked by

by some stroke of God, the lights flicked back on, and across the street, I could see the surrounding building come back to life.

"Well, I've got to get to my house before my ice cream spoils." Emily stood and collected a few pieces of fabric.

"Yeah, and completely unrelated. I have to call Will." JJ juts out her lip in an admission of guilt. They snuck out the door, giggling and tucking crazy fabric in their bags.

"I should get going too, wonder boy. You need a ride home?"

"No, I should be fine. There's a train in the next hour." Reid was still immersed in the photos.

"Well, don't bug her too badly." He left with a wink

"Why are you still looking at those? They're ancient."

"The date on the back says 1998, making you 20 years old. You're 28." Finally, he puts the photos down. "I'm having a hard time picturing you going to a rave. You only read sappy novels from the seventies. I saw three copies of Tuck Everlasting on your shelves." All the talk from my coworkers and the five beers in my system made me more than angry and bold.

Stupid ideas were my biggest export when I was inebriated.

"Well, I know the FBI has kept me in shape. I'm going to my bedroom and try these on." I gave a coy smile as I took a handful of sets and strutted off to the back of my place.

"W-what do you mean you're going to try them on."

"I've gotta see if they still fit."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #raver girl

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floralcyanide · 10 months

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𝟑𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐧𝐞𝐫

jackson rippner x f!reader

Usually, airports were the bane of your existence due to your career and the constant requirement to travel. But when you stumble upon a handsome man at the airport bar, your disdain for flying seems to change.

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, public sex, mile-high shenanigans

word count: 2780

author’s note: not proofread again lulz but when do I ever?? anyway I got a request for this and had to write it right away because I love jackson sm omg. please lmk if you enjoyed and send some feedback <3

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

You wouldn’t mind it if you didn’t have to step foot inside another airport for the rest of your life.

Unfortunately, your career requires you to travel every month, so your escape from airports will have to wait. You doubt there’s anything that will make your experiences with the liminal spaces any brighter or more profound- you doubt there’s anything that would make them even a smidge exciting. But, who knows, maybe one day you’ll eat your words. So, until then, you’ll fast-walk through airports and terminals with your carry-on with the deepest resting bitch face you can conjure up. And it appears that today will be yet another day that you muster up one.

Deciding to hit the best bar in the DFW airport during your routine TSA spiel, you weave around the other flyers in the corridors in a hurry. Even if your red eye flight has been delayed about two hours, you figure two hours in an airport could be better spent drinking. After scouring the entire airport numerous times on each trip you’ve taken from DFW, you finally settled upon a corner bar near your gate. After passing by it a few times, you decided to give it a chance. Its appearance is initially off-putting- it is dark and moody. Still, it had an oddly comfortable atmosphere and good drinks, obviously. You stroll up to the bar, smiling and nodding to the bartender you’ve come to know here. Going to sit in your usual booth, you discover there’s someone already seated there.

“If this were middle school, I’d tell you this is my spot,” you joke as you approach the man, whose face is covered by his long bangs.

A pair of sharp blue eyes glance up at you from their place on the cocktail menu in his large hands, and a sweet smile graces his lips when he looks you over, “I certainly apologize for stealing your spot. Care to join me? I can buy you a drink to make up for it.”

You give him a questioning look, half-joking with your tone, “What’s in it for me?”

“A free drink and your spot back,” the man says haughtily, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Deal,” you reach a hand out for him to shake.

“Deal,” the man says, accepting your hand and shaking it firmly.

You slide into the booth, sizing the man up, “What’s your name?”

“Jackson,” the man says, his eyes nearly piercings into yours, “Jackson Rippner.”

“Oh,” you raise your eyebrows, suppressing a giggle, “your parents must hate you.”

Jackson laughs, shrugging, “Yeah, you could say that. But you can’t hate anyone if you’re dead.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry-”

“No need. Finished them off myself,” Jackson says, deadpanning.

You pause before laughing at his joke, “Gotcha.”

“So, what’s your drink of choice?” Jackson asks, changing the subject lightly.

“Hmm, I don’t think I’ll tell you just yet,” you let your eyes roam everywhere but Jackson’s face until you land your gaze back on him.

“You want me to guess, then?” Jackson asks, “I’m good at that, actually.”

“Oh, really? Prove it, then,” you say with a playful edge to your tone.

Jackson puckers his lips, furrowing his eyebrows in thought, “I’m thinking white liquor,” he trails off, “Maybe vodka, something fruity but not too skimpy.”

“You’re close, but not quite,” you bite your lip.

“I think you’re the type to have a classic no one considers.”

“Which is?”

“Dirty Shirley,” Jackson snaps his fingers, pointing at you confidently.

“Nope,” you say, grinning, “Just a vodka and Sprite for me.”

“Ah, but I was close.”

“Yes, you were very close,” you say, having the urge to flirt with this man you don’t even know.

“I’ll go grab that for you,” Jackson says, getting up out of the booth and heading to the bar.

While he’s gone, you rummage through your bag for a perfume roller, quickly rubbing some on your pulse points. Then, you unbutton the first two buttons of your blouse, revealing your cleavage just enough to be subtle. Turning around for a second, you see Jackson heading back to the booth, and you brush yourself off before slipping the perfume back into your bag.

“A vodka and Sprite for the pretty lady,” Jackson places your drink down in front of you before returning to his spot across from you.

“‘Pretty lady,’ huh?” you raise an eyebrow, taking the two black straws into your mouth.

“What can I say?” Jackson raises his hands in defense, “You are a pretty little thing. I’m glad I sat in your spot.”

“Oh,” you say, trying not to let your face heat up at the compliment, “Well, I’m glad too.”

The both of you silently sip your drinks after that, sharing fleeting glances while giggling. You decide to be cheeky, slipping off one of your heels and running your foot underneath Jackson’s pant leg. You nonchalantly look around the bar, chewing on your straw as if you weren’t up to anything. Jackson is staring right at you with a smirk as his eyes stare holes into your off-cast ones.

“Feeling a little naughty, are we?” Jackson whispers, just loud enough to hear over the music.

You move your eyes toward him, “How do you mean?”

“I see,” Jackson looks down at the remainder of his second drink, “You wanna play like that, huh?”

“Play like what?” you challenge him, pushing your foot farther up his leg, now going over his pants and toward his thigh.

Jackson chuckles, about to say something, but he’s interrupted by the airport intercom. Your flight is a few minutes from boarding.

“Oh, that’s me,” you frown, downing the rest of your second vodka and Sprite before looking at Jackson, “What do I owe you?”

“For the drinks? Nothing,” Jackson licks his lips, “But for the teasing? We’ll have to see about that.”

“Oh really?” you ask, your heart rate now picking up at the obvious flirting.

“Really.”

“And what will you do about it?” you daringly ask.

“Well, we are on the same flight,” Jackson says, “So we’ll have to see.”

The two of you head over to the gate, getting in line to board. You boredly flip through a book your friend suggested for you to read on the flight. Jackson takes notice of this.

“Bookworm? Didn’t pick that up about you,” Jackson asks, rolling back and forth on his heels and toes.

“Depends on the book,” you say, pursing your lips as you skim over the words, “Don’t think I’m a fan of this one, though.”

“That’s a shame. Any ideas of what you’re gonna do on the flight?” Jackson inquires, a flirty undertone in his question.

“Hmm,” you wonder, “Probably sleep. Unless I find something else to do.”

“Ah,” Jackson nods, “Hopefully, you will.”

“Hopefully,” you chuckle.

You and Jackson get separated during boarding, but you do a double-take when you arrive at your seat.

“Are you in the right seat?” you ask.

A familiar pair of striking eyes look up from a book to meet yours, “Did I steal your spot again?”

“No,” you shake your head, laughing, “I’m seat fifteen B.”

“And I’m fourteen B,” Jackson closes his book.

“Interesting,” you say, “Small world, huh?”

“Small indeed,” Jackson exhales, about to say something, until a lady a few rows down asks for help with her carry-on.

You move to the side, allowing Jackson to scoot by you. As he does, he puts a gentle hand on your waist, sending goosebumps up your spine. You watch as he helps the lady, and you try not to laugh when she tries flirting with him. Jackson returns to the row, moving past you again and plopping into his seat.

“I know we talked for what, two hours? But I never asked, why are you headed to Miami? Work or play?” Jackson asks, buckling his seatbelt as the flight attendants announce preparation for take-off.

“Work, unfortunately. I take this trip often, red eye and everything,” you say, resting your head on the headrest behind you.

Jackson nods, “I’m here for work too. I hate flying, not going to lie.”

“Me too,” you grumble, “I hate everything about flying, including the airport and everything that comes with it.”

“Everything?” Jackson presses jokingly.

“Well, today was different. I actually had a nice time at the airport, especially since I got to meet you,” you say, keeping your eyes on the flight attendant as she goes over the safety precautions and flotation devices under the seats.

“Good to know,” Jackson says, placing a hand on your knee.

You look at his hand, feeling very warm all over. The plane begins to speed up and ascend, and you relax in your seat, Jackson’s hand still on your knee. His nose is in his book as you try your best to read your friend’s book suggestion. When the plane finally reaches 30,000 feet, the seatbelt light turns off, and the lights dim. Flight attendants offer pillows and blankets, and you take a blanket, tucking your book away and covering yourself with the blanket. You’re on the verge of sleep when you feel Jackson’s hand slide up your thigh. You pretend you’re asleep, not moving or reacting to his touch. His hand is hidden by the blanket, so no one can see his hand move further up, dangerously close to your core. You’re wearing a dress, so there’s easy access. Not that you were complaining that Jackson was touching you. You were feeling him up earlier at the bar, so now it’s his turn.

Jackson sneaks his hand back down your thigh and over your dress, slowly making his way over your hip and waist, up to your clothed breast. The blanket‘s hem was tucked behind your shoulders, covering up your entire body, so no one could see Jackson’s hand crawl underneath your dress again. This time, to squeeze at your breast. You try not to move or make a noise as Jackson takes your nipple between his fingers, pinching it lightly. Pretending as if he woke you up, you rouse and sit up straight.

“What are you doing?” you ask, acting as if you were asleep.

“I know you’ve been awake the whole time, sweetheart,” Jackson whispers.

“No, I wasn’t,” you say innocently.

“Don’t lie to me,” Jackson chastises, twisting your nipple harshly.

You bite your lip, muffling a moan. You squeeze your legs together as he continues to tweak the bud.

“Is this what you want? Hmm? Teasing me earlier with your foot, I figured I’d play with you too.”

Jackson’s hand moves to your other breast, flicking your nipple. His other hand travels under your dress, his fingernails pressing into your skin. You bite your lip to stifle a moan from the sharp sensation on the sensitive skin of your thigh. His fingers ease to your core again, ghosting over your clit as you open your legs.

“Be quiet like a good girl,” Jackson says, eyes darting around to ensure no one is looking despite the lights being off.

You nod as he presses two fingers to your clit, rubbing slow, soft circles. Warmth gradually spreads in your lower belly at the sensation, and you widen your legs further. Jackson pulls his fingers away momentarily to slip them inside your underwear and continue his movements on your bare bundle of nerves. You cover your mouth, exhaling shakily at the stimulation. Jackson slips a finger inside you after playing with you for a while.

“Already so wet?” Jackson teases in your ear, his lips brushing against it.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.

Jackson slowly pumps his finger in and out, eventually adding a second one. You shutter from the delightful stretch. You look around before subtly jerking your hips forward, riding his fingers.

“Fucking yourself on my fingers so good,” Jackson nibbles at your ear lobe, “Can’t imagine how you’d feel around my cock.”

You bite your knuckle to hold in a desperate whine at his words, “Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what?” Jackson asks, his fingers picking up the pace.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, “Take me to the bathroom and fuck me against the wall.”

“What a brazen little one you are,” Jackson grins, pulling his fingers from you and sucking your arousal off them, “It’s gonna take a little more than that, though.”

You groan at the loss of fullness, “Like what?”

“Beg.”

You pull Jackson’s hand back to your soaking slit, “Please touch me, fuck me, do anything you want to me. Please.”

“Keep going,” he pants, circling your clit with his fingers again.

“Jackson,” you sigh, “God, I need you inside of me. So bad,” you hiss.

“Go,” Jackson whispers, “I’ll meet you there.”

You hurry to pull down your dress, pulling the blanket off you before quietly walking to the bathroom. You check the vacancy before pulling the door open, leaving it unlocked for Jackson. You sit on the toilet, waiting patiently as your pulse thumps in your ears. A few moments pass, and the door opens slightly, revealing Jackson before he slips inside the bathroom. You stand up, but before you open your mouth to say something, he picks you up and presses you against the wall. You wrap your legs around Jackson’s waist, kissing him with a bruising force. Jackson slides his tongue through your lips and into your mouth, exploring it as his hands grip your ass. You reach a hand down and unzip and unbutton Jackson’s pants, your hand snaking past his underwear band and wrapping around his cock.

“Fuck,” Jackson seethes, already hard from previous events in your seats earlier.

He pushes up the hem of your dress around your hips, pulling your underwear down far enough for him to slowly enter your throbbing core. Both of you gasp at the feeling, hours of pining hitting the climax. You thought Jackson was attractive the moment you laid eyes on him. You aren’t passing up the opportunity to join the mile-high club with such a gorgeous man. Jackson pushes further into you, and you relax more so he can press his hips into yours. Your fingers grasp at his hair as he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Your back roughly hits the wall behind you, but it wouldn’t be the last time. You have to hold onto the wall with one hand to not bang into it, your other hand holding onto Jackson’s hair for dear life as he fucks you without mercy.

“God,” you say, the word drawn out as you and Jackson’s hips slam into each other.

Jackson covers your mouth as you stare into his blue eyes, now darkened with lust, “Stay quiet.”

You nod, “Mhmm,” you hum from underneath his hand.

Your eyes stay on each other as you move your body forward in time with Jackson, his cock hitting that spot inside you perfectly, sending shockwaves over you. Jackson wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady as his other hand moves between the two of you to rub tight figure 8’s on your bundle of nerves. You squeal, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Jackson continues to fuck into you like you’re a sex object. You feel yourself clenching around him as your orgasm creeps up. You pull on Jackson’s hair harshly, causing him to moan as his hips stutter. You do it again, and he has to bite your neck in order not to moan out loud.

“Are you gonna cum?” Jackson grunts into your ear, “Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “Fuck yes, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum around my cock, pretty thing.”

Your release smacks you in the face, sending your body reeling as it nearly convulses against the lavatory wall. Jackson cums right after you as the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock sends him over the edge. You milk him for all he’s got, rutting your hips through both of your orgasms. You both catch your breath as Jackson lets your legs collapse back to the floor weakly. He holds you up as you regain your posture.

“I suddenly really like flying now,” you push your hair out of your sweaty face.

“Me too,” Jackson says with an expressionless face, which you match.

Suddenly, both of you burst out laughing but cover your mouths quickly before anyone can hear in the plane. After cleaning yourselves up, you both successfully sneak out of the bathroom and back to your seats, covering up with the blanket.

“Ever barhopped in Miami?” you ask Jackson, trying your best to hold your eyes open.

“Nope. You?’

“Nope. Want to?”

“Absolutely.”

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr

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dontyoufeelitangel · 2 months

Text

What a lady

What happens when you have to push Adam to commit? He’s to pussy to go through with his actions.

Well ever since the last extermination many things have been discovered.

Starting off with the fact that Adam had come close to death. He thought he was the shit, but after his near death experience he’s been like a wobbly kitten who fears the wind.

It’s laughable actually, how quick he was to switch up, don’t get him wrong, he’s still a dickhead but now he is a dickhead that has almost died.

Sinners use angelic steal, how’d they get it? You don’t know. Regardless or how they got their hands on the metal, they still use it as if they have the right.

This really gets on your nerves because instead of forging their own metal they totally steal a bunch from heaven, it’s like, get your own personality you sinners.

Since becoming friends with the first man Adam you’ve changed.

He says for the better, your friends say you’re worse.

But what does their opinion matter when you have Adam as your partner?

Time isn’t a thing in afterlife.

It’s life eternal in heaven so nobody keeps a clock around.

But if you’d have to guess you’d say you have been with Adam for nearly ten years.

Yes, yes, that’s a long time, but you’ve been in heaven for thousands of years so your ten years with Adam feels like practically nothing in the grand sense of things.

Adam has had his effects on you.

You have been introduced to lots of new things with Adam,

Good music, clothing style, attitude style, foods and arts,

But he also told you about the exterminations.

Much to his surprise, you were totally on board.

Adam was actually put off by how on board you were.

He wasn’t complaining, not at all. He was as happy as polar bear in a snow storm.

To say you were on board was an understatement, honestly, you seemed to be more hyped than Adam.

After the last extermination in which sinners figured out how to use angelic steel and nearly murdered Adam, you were beyond pissed.

You used your anger to fuel your burning compassion,

The burning compassion that lit your heart into flames, it burned and crackled but the pain was pleasurable to know that you’d do it all by Adam side.

It was wrong to kill sinners, you knew that. But it was also wrong to try to start a rebellion against heaven.

So you completely lost it when Adam came to you with doubts.

You weren’t mad at him of course, you were mad at whatever past experiences he had to endure to make him freak the fuck out.

You can sympathize with his fear, he did almost taste death, for a second time. Perhaps it was the fact it was by the hands of a sinner that made him so weary.

Still, no excuse for Adam to leave you all high and dry with the extermination,

Like, c’mon… you were so excited, you had pumped yourself up,,,

“Well shit babe, I don’t wanna have those fuckers running around with angelic steel!!” Adam waved his hands in the air, he was referring to the sinners.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

What a pussy excuse

“Shit sugar tits,,, what if they get YOU with that steel!!” Adam exclaimed again this time walking around the room.

“I don’t know what I’d do with myself!! Shit!” He was letting his nerves get to him.

Not once, in your entire time in heaven have you seen this man royally freak out like this.

It was pathetic, you were nearly positive if Lute or Sera were in the room he’d surly act different.

You almost find it cute how he trusts you enough to have his little panics around you.

Almost.

He shouldn’t be going this batshit crazy, not in front of a lady,

Not in front of his lady.

You rub your temples before speaking,

“Calm down” you said once with a softer tone,

Adam must’ve not heard you, or maybe he just straight out ignored you because he continued to ramble to himself about the upcoming extermination.

Nobody was around, but it was still embarrassing for you to see him acting this way. For the first man you’d think he’d have a little more composure.

“ADAM.” You yelled, firm in your voice.

He stopped in place and looked at you, you huffed.

“I don’t understand why this is getting to you.” You told him, glaring daggers into him for his previous embarrassing behavior.

“Bitch I already told you! What if we die, what if we fail-“

“We fail? If you get your courage up we can’t fail.” You said, walking towards him. Adam looked around the room, trying to avoid your gaze.

You grabbed his jaw in your hand, holding his face steadily with one hand.

“Dear god” you spoke,

“Thicken Adam’s blood, and clog up his veins so he won’t feel remorse. So no human compassion nor sinners weapon can stop his plan.”

You offered your prayers to god, hoping he would make Adam man up.

You finished the prayer, your hand still holding Adam still, he looked into your eyes.

“We shall go to hell during thick night, so that our sharps weapons won’t see the wounds they cut open, and so that heaven can’t peep through the darkness” you told him.

You let go of his face and moved back to your previous spot sitting down.

Adam just sorta stood there, at a loss for words.

Damn, that was hot, you were a bad bitch,

You had intimidated Adam, usually he’d be incredibly offended if it was any other person, but you? You were a special case,

A special case in which Adam was buckling at the knees and felt his heart catch a flame.

“..yeah yeah,,” he muttered out. Still in shock yet trying to flag off what you just said.

He walks to you,

This time you use two hands to grab his face,

You pull him down to your level and place a kiss atop his temple, as a silent apology for yelling at him.

“You ready to go fuck shit up unapologetically and not be scared about it?” You tilted your head towards him.

“Hell yeah! Your right babe” he cheered himself on.

You gave a small smile.

“No more funny Adam, I gotta be so fuckin’ serious about this. I’m done being a total pussy, I’m done being funny” he nods to himself. Hyping himself up for the upcoming extermination.

“Adam, you stopped being funny awhile ago,,”

Inspired by Lady Macbeth, the baddest most evilest bitch in Shakespeare.

Also this is real shit writing, sorry for no plot. I was high and reading Shakespeare so I had a little thought.

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ash5monster01 · 3 months

Note

I would love prompt #1 with Steve Harrington! Pretty please 🫶🏻

Wrong Address

Valentines Celebration Prompt

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, language, miscommunication, instant connection

1. Three dozen roses have just been delivered to your door on accident, in attempts to find the sender and correct the mistake, you discover you might have just found your match.

word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

While running late for work, the last thing you expect to do is nearly trip over three dozen roses sat outside your apartment door. Shock is what hits you first considering you couldn’t think of a single person who would be sending these to you. Especially today. Being late is no longer on your mind as you bend to grab the note sat perfectly in the center of the most gorgeous bouquet you have ever seen.

Robin,

I’ll always be your Valentine if you need one xoxo

Steve Harrington

Professor - University of Chicago

Realizing the flowers aren’t for you, sadness washes through you. Sighing you accept being late is just what’s going to happen today. Collecting all the flowers you walk to the phone on your wall and dial your work number. Lisa your boss is understanding when you say you won’t be in for a few hours and to take the day if you need. So with damaged pride and defeat, you hail a cab with enough roses to make you look crazy, and find yourself on the way to University of Chicago.

It takes twelve wrong turns and three employees to finally point you in the direction of Steve Harrington’s office. You prepare yourself for a balding middle aged man when you knock on the door but instead a young boy with dough eyes and fluffy hair surprises you. Confusion covers his face first as you give him a sheepish smile, a little bewildered because he was cute and you were holding three dozen roses outside his workspace.

“Sadly I’m not Robin, but I do appreciate the gesture” you say with a shrug that lifts the three bouquets in your arm. Realization finally paints his face as his looks at you.

“Shit, she is always yelling at me about not writing down her apartment number. I should have listened” he says, sultry voice wrapping around your heart and squeezing.

“It’ll be our secret, I promise I won’t tell” you say, lifting the flowers his way which he immediately moves to grab. The electric shock that vibrates through you due to his touch is surprising.

“A trustworthy stranger, my favorite kind” he says with a grin, red petals now tickling the bottom of his chin.

“I couldn’t just leave them, it’s Valentines Day after all. She’s a lucky girl” you offer and the boy is instantly shaking his head at your sentence.

“Oh, it’s not like that. She’s my best friend and she just got her ass dumped. I was just doing my part” he says quickly and the blush that covers your face surprises you both.

“I don’t know if that makes me like you more or intimidates me” you finally say, a rush of confidence spiking your heart rate.

“Maybe you’d like to decide over a cup of coffee?” he suggests and the smile that covers your face answers the question for you.

“I’d like that” you say and he nods, turning to dump the roses on top of his desk and quickly step out into the hallway with you as he shuts and locks his door.

“Thank you by the way. Not many people would’ve taken the time to find the correct owner” Steve says after a beat, wringing his hands together as you exit the building and step out onto campus.

“You’re welcome, kinda helped you signed it with your job title as well” you say with a chuckle and the realization that you know his name and he doesn’t know yours comes quickly.

“Shit I’m sorry, I should properly introduce myself. I’m Steve and you are?” his big eyes glance over into your own and you can’t stop the blush that covers your cheeks as you repeat your name back to him.

“What do you teach?” you ask after a moment and Steve smiles, his hand reaching up and running through his messy locks.

“Sports History” he says with a soft chuckle like he can’t even believe it himself. “Not really the most noble profession but it pays the bills I suppose” he says, a bit embarrassed. After all the chaos in Hawkins he found himself at community college doing a degree that didn’t bore him and somehow he ended up here.

“I wouldn’t say that. I mean you’re a professor. You’re teaching people no matter the subject” you offer and the soft smile that covers his face shows his appreciation towards you.

“I hope you don’t mind campus coffee” he finally says, nodding towards a small building that you’re happy to go in.

“Coffee is coffee” you agree as he holds open the door. After giving him your order you find a small table for you both, being careful not to glance up at him too much.

“What made you get into teaching?” you ask when he returns, warm cup of coffee now placed in your hand.

“The kids. Back home I was friends with this group of kids and as much as I pretended I didn’t, I adored them. When I planned to move away there was something comforting about the idea of spending time with people their age” he says and somehow this perfect stranger becomes even more perfect.

“Where is home?” you find yourself asking and he smiles, reminiscing on a place he hadn’t been in a very long time.

“Small town Hawkins, Indiana. Me and Robin moved out here a few years back and I landed the job at the University” he explains, taking a sip of his own coffee and glancing up at you.

“That’s sweet, you two have been friends that long?” the suggestion in your voice isn’t masked well, it’s just surprising to hear of opposite gender friends and not assume there are some sort of feelings there.

“Since I was eighteen. We never go anywhere without each other, especially when we moved here. She only recently moved out to live with her girlfriend, the one who thought it’d be cool to dump her right before Valentine’s day” and suddenly it all makes sense. The kind gesture, three dozen roses, saying he would always be her Valentine, how there was no shared feelings between the two.

“That sucks. You’re a good friend for trying to cheer her up” you say, now smiling at the idea of there being a man out there caring enough to send three dozen roses to his friend who had her heart broken.

“Yeah, which I guess now that my office hours for the day are over I better hand deliver the flowers” he says, laughing to himself for writing down the wrong address. Then again it would’ve never led you to him.

“I probably should be heading home anyway” you mutter, a bit disappointed that he was already thinking of leaving you behind. You must’ve not left the same impression that he did on you.

“I can drive you, if you like. After all you live in her building” and the offer has you perking up like an excited puppy dog.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind?” you grin and he smiles right back, taking another sip of his coffee.

“I don’t mind at all” so you find yourself in his old maroon BMW, still in pristine condition, with the flowers collected from his office now on your lap. You laugh when he tells you it’s his same car from high school and the more you find out about him the more charming he becomes.

“What floor?” you ask him in the elevator, giggling at his rose filled arms.

“4th” he mutters out, shifting and then sneezing from the flowers in his face.

“Well Romeo, try not to send them to the 3rd next time” you say, referring to your own floor and he chuckles as the doors close and lift you up. When the doors open on you floor you go to step forward before noticing he is following you.

“Oh, sorry. This is my stop, one more floor for you” you say and a sad look crosses his face quickly.

“Oh, I guess I just figured you’d deliver them with me” he says with a soft chuckle and you look at the sweet boy who had managed to crawl his way into your heart within the last hour.

“This feels like something you should do alone but hey, I’m not going anywhere all day and it’s Valentine’s after all. So if Robin is willing to share, you know where to find me” you say with a grin, stepping towards him and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Does seven work?” he asks with red cheeks as you step into the hall and you flash him a quick smile.

“It’s a date” and the elevator doors shut close, lifting him away and leaving you with a dopey grin.

Who would have thought three dozen roses not meant for you would still turn out to be the best Valentines gift you ever got.

219 notes · View notes

laurfilijames · 1 year

Text

Breathe

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Rating: M but will be E as smut is definitely coming (I surprised myself and didn't write smut in the first chapter)

Words: 1,815

Warnings: PTSD. Anger issues. Almost passing out. Sexual tension. Mentions of previous assault (choking).

Summary: You've seen Will at the gym many times before, and he you, and today you finally share a moment, discovering your assumptions about him are right.

A/N: Here I was thinking my first character fic for Charlie Hunnam would no doubt be Jax Teller, and then this guy swooped in and floored me. (I also haven't finished SOA yet and feel like waiting to write for Jax until I do, and also my feelings about him are soooo conflicted) Will is an absolute MAN and I'm in love.

This will be a series and it will be smutty and indulgent.

---

It had almost been a year, but he would always be known as the man who nearly choked a stranger to death in the cereal aisle of the local grocery store.

Will - as you overheard him be called by the man he usually came to the gym with who looked just like him and assumed was his younger brother - often cleared anyone away from any machine out of fear; the other patrons sacrificing their workouts in favour of not wanting to provoke someone who may snap if he didn't get his way.

He was solo today, grunting and groaning to the left of you as he worked through his second set of bench presses; your eyes often drifting over to him in the mirror in the event he needed a spot.

You blinked as he slammed the heavy barbell back on its rack, shifting your gaze back to yourself performing deadlifts as he sat up and rubbed a towel over his face to catch the drips of sweat running down his tanned cheeks and into his blond beard.

Distracted, you lost count of your reps, cursing to yourself internally as you suffered through two more than was necessary, your hamstrings on fire and barely able to complete the last one with proper form before dropping the weights to the floor with a huff.

You glanced in Will's direction, catching him staring at you where he nodded before you quickly averted your gaze. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lay back on the bench and continue another set, his noises of effort making your heart rate increase possibly more than your workout was.

Passing him to go to the squat rack, you couldn't help but notice the way his muscles flexed as he worked, the way his cheeks flinched as he clenched his teeth together tightly, similarly to the way he did even when he was 'relaxed' and not straining through an exercise.

Happy to be facing away from him, you started through your first set, thinking you were keeping track of your reps, only to find your mind wandering back to thoughts of him.

You sympathized for him, hearing his fiancee had left him after the event at the supermarket, knowing he had likely seen and done so many things people could never fathom experiencing in his many years in the Special Forces, and on top of all of it, not even being able to go to the gym without every person giving him a wide berth and downcast stares when they passed by.

"Damnit," you breathed, realizing you yet again lost track, only to be startled when a deep voice sounded behind you.

"You're at 8," Will spoke, making you glance over your shoulder to see him as much as you could as you squatted through another repetition.

"Thanks," you puffed, trying to sound as genuine as you could, thankful for his attentiveness while you did your best to look effortless in completing four more squats at the heaviest weight you had ever done so far.

"No problem," he smiled, assisting the bar back onto the rack when you were done. "I notice you lose count a lot."

He stated it so matter-of-factly, making you knit your eyebrows together quizzically as you turned to face him.

"Sorry!" he raised his hands in defense, "I'm a numbers guy, I tend to notice shit like that, I'm not trying to be an ass."

"No, it's fine," you returned with your own smile, "I guess I just never thought anyone would pay close enough attention to something like that, especially to someone they don't know."

Will tilted his head to the side and shrugged, like he wasn't quite sure what else to say to explain his behaviour.

"I appreciate it, though," you added, seeing a sort of discomfort crease in his features. "Saved me from doing an extra one. I thought I was only at 7."

Your laugh seemed to relax him, bringing out a light in his blue eyes and his smile that you instantly knew you could become addicted to seeing.

"Well, I'm happy to have helped, then. I'm Will, by the way."

He held his hand out, and taking note of the size of it as well as the length of his fingers, you swallowed and extended your own, meeting his eyes as he shook it with a firm grip.

"I know," you answered, seeing your response immediately wash a shameful look over his face.

He quickly withdrew his hand and moved it up to scratch his head, coming to terms that everyone knew who he was and the reputation he had.

"I've heard your brother," you accentuated as a question, "say your name a few times here."

"Oh, uh, yeah, that's Benny, my younger brother," he confirmed, placing his hands on his hips with a sigh of relief that your recognition of him wasn't only due to his infamous incident.

"Was he in the Service, too?"

"Yeah," he nodded, biting his lower lip.

"Your family must be proud of you both," you stated, positioning yourself under the bar to begin another set.

"Some days more than others," he said quietly, watching without shame as you lowered yourself into a squat and powered back up again with an enticing thrust.

Will cleared his throat, "You've got great form."

The tone in his voice made you steel yourself before continuing with another rep, feeling adrenaline rush through you that wasn't on account of the weight-lifting.

"That's it, breathe through it," he purred, that voice of his making you lose focus.

You closed your eyes and exhaled deeply, trying to match your breaths properly with your execution but failing, your mind going to a place you couldn't deny it hadn't been before in all the times you worked out at the same time as him.

It was good to work until failure, you reminded yourself, but as Will counted you to your twelfth and final rep, you struggled to reach the top of your squat let alone get the bar back on the rack.

Will effortlessly took the weight of it in one hand, lifting it easily for you to set it back in place.

"You okay?" he asked, assessing you with concern as you wiped moisture from your brow while his other hand rested along the small of your back.

"Yeah, thanks."

He stood close to you, enough for you to smell the intoxicating scent of his sweat mixed with lingering shower gel or cologne, and when you turned, his hand fell away from you just as yours felt the intense need to touch the dampened cotton shirt that clung to his warm body.

Suddenly feeling dizzy, you shifted on your feet and reached out to grip his forearm for support, shaking your head and apologizing.

"Sorry, that's the heaviest I've lifted and I guess I didn't eat enough for breakfast before I came," you stammered, looking up at him to see his face screwed up with worry.

"Hey, it's fine," he soothed, his hands holding your shoulders in a strong, reassuring grip. "Just breathe."

You did as he suggested, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply and slowly, your hand loosening on his forearm only slightly while he remained unmoving.

"Good, that's good," he whispered, his face leaning closer to yours, and you didn't dare open your eyes again in fear you really would pass out.

"Keep breathing," he repeated, prompting you to continue what he was quickly causing you to forget.

Another slow, calming breath filled your lungs, and when you blew it out gradually through your parted lips, Will spoke again, his fingers pressing into your shoulders.

"Good girl."

Your eyes flashed open, his words making you feel like you were in a haze, his crooked smile and glint in his alluring blue irises creating the opposite effect this whole exchange was meant to have.

"It always helps me," he admitted, his eyes not shifting from yours. "Whenever I'm stressed or angry…to breathe through it."

"Does that happen often?" you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Hmm, sometimes," he began, not seeming offended at your question. "Less than it used to."

"You must have been through a lot," you spoke, letting your thoughts come out freely, your hand giving a reassuring squeeze over one of the tattoos covering his forearm.

Will licked his lips, leaning slightly closer to you, holding in a breath despite knowing he shouldn't in a moment like this.

"Hey, are you done with this?" a man asked, pointing to the squat rack that was left abandoned beside you, his unexpected voice startling you both.

"Yeah, man, go ahead," Will answered, nodding at the man once and giving him a curt smile.

You watched Will size him up as the man switched out the plates on the bar, like he was waiting to see if anything impolite would come from his mouth next or turn into a threat somehow. The veins in his neck bulged as he increased his breaths, his cheeks flexing again due to his teeth clamping down on each other forcefully. When the other man continued about his business, Will seemed to blink back to reality, his chest still heaving sharply as he struggled to find calm.

Not thinking twice, you reached up and placed your open palm on his chest, directly over his furiously beating heart, bringing his attention over to you along with a sense of surprise.

He blinked quickly and sighed, his eyes searching yours for something to help him until you spoke.

"Breathe, Will," you coaxed, reminding him of what he needed to do, seeing him close his eyes and begin to slow it down until his breaths eventually matched yours.

"Thank you," he muttered, reaching his hand up to cover yours that remained on his warm chest, giving it a gentle squeeze as he flashed you a weak smile.

"Hey, I was gonna grab a protein shake from that smoothie bar down the road after, why don't you join me?"

"I'd love to," you beamed, feeling more than okay with ditching what was left of your workout to go with him, the look on his face making it even more worth it as he grinned brightly and took your hand to lead you toward the change rooms.

"Grab your things and I'll meet you outside," he ordered gently, revealing his effortless ability to delegate, and your willingness to want to comply.

Will leaned against the side of his truck as he waited, sighing to himself while he attempted to sort out everything he was feeling; the mix of wanting to lean in and trust you overpowering his usual go-to of staying distant and playing it safe, all of which was confirmed when you walked out the doors and instantly brought an easy smile to his face.

---

Part 2

Taglist: none!! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series or any other Charlie Hunnam roles I may write for 💗

#triple frontier #will miller #will 'ironhead' miller #charlie hunnam #will miller x female reader #will miller x reader #triple frontier fic #will miller fic

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bubbleddisasters · 25 days

Text

Stupid Shit I’ve done/Gotten myself into by accident/been dragged into as Twisted Wonderland Characters:

—————-

Ace : Heard my sister screaming bloody murder downstairs and didn’t do shit because I assumed she was watching a horror movie. Turns out there was a fire in the oven.

Bonus: Sniped my friend in the eye from across the Cafeteria with a Ketchup Packet, Meant to hit his glasses, but he repositioned them at the last second.

Deuce: Answered Maine four times on a Historical Geography test and was wrong all four times.

Cater: Threw my phone out of the window in a panic after seeing one of my Idols followed me back.

Bonus : Accidentally convinced a transfer camper from Wales I was from London after I quoted something in the accent to myself in the showers and was too awkward to tell them I wasn’t when they struck up the conversation.

(I am from America, and the camp is in America.)

Trey: Accidentally created a puddle of Dark Red Icing and Stepped in it four times in a row while making a cake at 2 am.

Bonus : Befriended and helped out the owner of a French Bakery down the street when they started out, they ended up becoming really popular (rightfully so, her stuff is amazing) and now I either get free shit and/or Friends and Family Discounts.

Riddle : I have read the dictionary on multiple occasions out of sheer boredom.

Bonus: I once read the bible and marked down verses. Im not religious I just needed to win an argument.

Leona: Slept through an earthquake and 3 ambulances coming to my house bcs my sister was hurt.

Ruggie: Waited for families going inside to pass by and asked them to hold the door for me so I could sneak into a VIP rooms for free food. (Usually only at fancy hotels but luckily this strategy is flexible when your 5’2 with a baby face.)

Jack: Used to Smash open large rocks containing Crystals or Quartz at the beach as a kid, and now I have a large collection of them.

Bonus: I have extremely good hearing, to the point I hear into the negative decibels up to -15 - -20 (according to the audiologist this is rare but i literally don’t know shit about audio and decibels) so my old dormmates used to try and bribe me to tell them what I heard about certain things or themselves.

Bonus 2: Almost got shot by an illegal hunter while in the woods with my sister.

Floyd : Cracked my skull open at the pool, lost consciousness for a few seconds and woke up in the water calling for help, then got confused on why I was calling for help.

Bonus : A Sea lion once came up to me while I was scuba diving and did little circles, bumped its snout on my mask and just followed me the whole time in a very gleeful manner as a temporary homie.

Bonus 2: Apparently ate / took bites of my moms library books as a little kid (????) according to the librarian.

Jade: Taught myself to untie my hands with my hands behind my back, tie by hands behind my back with my hands behind my back, deciphered, translated and memorized a fictional hieroglyphic language, Read from Act 1 to Act 6 of Homestuck, and accidentally discovered how to disguise Chocolate Ice Cream as Pistachio; all within the span of 2 weeks. (I had covid and was A-Symptomatic)

Bonus : Lived in the Woods for 7 months (in total), had a large bag of mica and Almost Drowned in a tent when there was no moving water nor rain. (Basically, I was asleep, Woke up underwater, nearly went back to bed, then shot out of my tent screaming “My Tent Titanticed!” )

(It was like 3 am don’t judge me)

Azul: Somehow ended up with $2200 dollars in $100s in Monopoly at the end of the game. Also have been stuck between two identical twins while talking with both and boi that shits TRIPPY. (I also almost died with them later but it was fine)

Bonus: I lived on a middle of fuck knows where island during the spring and summer up until covid, yet I absolutely despise eating fish or Shellfish, and the smell often makes me nauseous.

(Bonus 2: I love shiny things, but very specifically fancy looking keys. I also had a weird obsession with signing a shiny contract after watching Ariel. Another tiny thing Is I own a Flotsam and Jetsam Scarf which I chuck around when Floyd or Jade pisses me off ingame.)

Kalim : Got distracted by a cool leaf while at a fancy resort in Xatapa, Mexico, and waddled off from my parents and explored around to try and find more, somehow managed to get extremely far and ended up lost in a whole different city for 6 hours while trying to find my way back.

Bonus 1: I had an obsession with Kiwis for awhile as a kid, and our neighbors house had a Pangium tree that reached over to our yard. (It was planted before either families moved in so we didn’t know) I thought it was some kind of strange Kiwi and ate one. I didn’t like it and was like “Oh maybe its not ripe” and waited 3-5 months then tried it again, same reaction, repeat process one more time.

I went to my parents out of curiosity and asked them what it was, and so after some process I am unaware of but I think my mom brought one of the fruits somewhere, we discovered what it was.

Pangium contains Fatal amounts of Cyanide if not properly prepared. I was fine but for the love of anything please don’t try eating it like little me did.

Bonus 2: I’ve Almost died more times than I can count on both hands and feet. Im not an heir or something fancy I just have wackass luck.

Jamil: Once had to talk my sister out of jumping off a tour boat because our cousin dared her to.

Bonus : Managed to make French Toast in the middle of the woods with Dehydrated Milk, Cinnamon, Three Eggs I stole, and a loaf of bread we got once a month. Also made 3 kinds marinated chicken in the middle of the woods.

(My Cooking Style is literally “just trust me bro.” I’m like Lilia except it actually works and is edible)

Epel : Whenever we went applepicking at my Grandfathers house, I’d climb into the trees and throw or pass the apples down. Sometimes I actually wish I could sit in trees more often shits comfy.

Bonus: My Mom was a Champion Horseback Rider as a kid, and sometimes took us to this Dude Ranch I shall not name for my own privacy, but I’d run around with this group of kids and this one herding dog like a damn movie protagonist, sometimes go riding horses, or the one time we stole a tractor and near crashed it (THE REGRETS I STILL HAVE-) etc.

The WHIPLASH from that to going back to a whitewashed Northeast suburban town is insane.

Rook: My Cousins and I, and sometimes the kids at the priorly mentioned ranch, would play the most intense games of manhunt (basically really intense hide n seek at night) ,

I mean wearing camo if you had it, alliances, little dollar store walkie-talkies, code words, binoculars, climbing in trees or hiding in bushes/tall grasses/Hay to “scout”.

I hid in a large pot/vase more than once and another time on a roof, and (ONLY ONCE, DO NOT DO THIS IM STUPID) under a car.

I still remain the top in last man standing points. Mostly bcs I’m stingy with rescues but shhh

Vil - Accidentally poured a lot of liquid eyeliner into my eye, was literally crying out Eyeliner for 30 minutes. Also taught myself to run and jump in heels as a kid because I thought it looked cool in movies.

Ortho : Unknowingly was Hacking my Elementary School Databank for several years,

I genuinely thought it was normal to go on the school website, press a few buttons and be able to find a friends address if I had a playdate and needed to tell my mom where the house was, a parents phone number if needed communication with my friends parents , and mostly ignored the other general info.

I didn’t even know I did this until my dad told me a few months ago that I almost got suspended for it but by the time they found out it was the end of my last year there. ;—;

Idia: Accidentally acquired both a Nahida and Eula in Genshin and was genuinely annoyed at the time, they are now my most powerful DPS’s…

Bonus : I own a shit ton of original Japanese first edition Pokemon Cards my cousin gave me, (they are probably worth more than me which is neat), and I have a giant pile of Pokemon plushies I have infact fallen asleep on or in on multiple occasions.

Bonus 2: I was playing Breath of the Wild, and my very first thing I did after getting off the plateau was beeline for the castle. I actually got all the way up and took out 2 blights but the Wind one kicked my ass.

Bonus 3: Got confessed to and asked out by a guy I did not like nor knew very well, and I panicked, said “Maybe, Sorry no.” And ran into a wall. Also have crawled through a chute to avoid an awkward situation as a kid (do not recommend its dusty and definitely not safe)

Bonus 4: Once didn’t sleep for 5 days.

Malleus : Accidentally attended a Private Party and a Private Funeral in the same week. I was not invited nor knew anyone present. Stayed there for most of it because I was too nervous to say I wasn’t supposed to be there. Whoop.

Bonus: Got nicknamed the “Trip Curse.” By my Old Dormmates because everytime I went on a trip with them everything seemed to go to shit or get hella chaotic.

Bonus 2: Another camping one: Once woke up at night with a shit ton of fireflies just chilling in my tent. It was serene but also I genuinely thought I was hallucinating for a few minutes.

Lilia: Literally will hang upside down anywhere I can, its so fun bro.

Bonus : I know an extremely large amount of useless historical information, and once genuinely realized I know more about poison than what flour and eggs are used for in baking.

Silver : Once befriended a wild horse ( Im like 90% sure he was a Chestnut).

I called him Clover the Dog like horse because he was honestly just a golden retriever in the body of a horse.

This is great and theres alot of sweet moments, but then theres the times you have a giant horse galloping full speed at you for attention or trying to nudge you affectionately and nearly pushing you into a creek in the process.

Sebek: Got groundstruck by lightning once. Also I am often told I have a loud voice.

Che’nya : a good friend of mine and I have an inside joke at school where if we see eachother through a window (my school has alot of indoor windows for some reason?), we’ll text the other “Behind you.” Or “To your left.”

——————-

Theres more things I can think of but I have run out of characters and this is getting too long, so ye!

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

Hey! I recently discovered your blog and I love your writing! I’m having a stressful time with schoolwork at the moment and it’s really comforting for me. I was wondering if you’ll take my request of the mauraders comforting y/n after she doesn’t get into the university she loves (Cambridge)? My interview’s in a few days and I’m feeling nervous about the result if it goes badly. Or anything along those lines really!! Thank you for your work! <33

Hi babe, I'm glad you like them! Good luck if you haven't done your interview yet, and please try to keep in mind (I know it's not easy, I was shit at it when I was applying to universities) that it'll all be okay regardless! I never would have imagined I'd end up at the school I did, but I've had an amazing time here, so I think it really is what you make it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your heartbreak is intermittent. Your boyfriends have affixed you with everything you need, from your heaviest blanket to your favorite treats from the corner store, but even with the distraction of your comfort movie on the TV in front of you, James keeps catching the occasional sluggish tear rolling down your face. It seems like you’re only able to slip free of your grief for a few minutes at a time before you remember it, tiny sounds of anguish slipping past your lips as your eyes fill with tears all over again.

He reaches over you now as a silent sob jerks your shoulders, tucking you under his arm. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers feebly. The words feel emptier with each repetition.

You clearly don’t believe him, sniffling and pulling your legs closer to your chest.

Your boyfriends share in your agony, Remus keeping his stare determinedly on the movie despite the worried set to his brows while Sirius’ eyes keep flitting to you, continually looking like he’s about to say something and then deciding against it.

Something must happen in that head of yours, because suddenly your crying worsens, awful, wracking sobs tearing out of you despite how hard you’re clearly trying to suppress them.

Remus turns around in his seat, crestfallen. “Dovey, come on,” he pleads, grabbing the remote to pause the movie. Your ragged breaths sound worse in the new silence. “You’re okay, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” you say miserably. You press a hand to your mouth to quiet yourself.

“No, don’t be sorry.” James scrubs a hand up and down your shoulder. “Let it out if you need to, angel.”

You won’t, face growing blotchier by the second, but you do lean into his side as a compromise.

“I know you’re disappointed,” Remus says tentatively, “but I really do think it’ll all work out in the end. In a year this won’t seem nearly as important. Probably sooner.”

You don’t respond; you don’t believe him, either.

On your other side, Sirius makes a soft sound. “What’s going through your head, sweetness?”

“Just—” you sniff, wiping a hand under one eye too roughly for James’ liking. He intercepts it, thumbing the tears from your other cheek far more tenderly. “I’m so d—disappointed in myself.” You break halfway through, covering your mouth with your hand as sobs jostle their way out of you.

“Don’t say that.” Sirius is practically begging. “You worked so hard, there wasn’t anything more you could have done.”

“You—you can’t know that. I could have tried harder.”

“Darling, these are pointless thoughts,” Remus says gently. “There’s no use in thinking about what might have been different. You did work very hard, maybe as hard as you could, but it’s done now.”

Your only response is a soft, half-repressed keening sound, and Remus gets out of his seat, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of you. His knees bump the couch as he reaches forward to grasp your ankles.

“What do you want for yourself—say, a year from now?”

Your eyebrows scrunch while James’ rise. He’s not sure this is the line of thought Remus should be leading you down right now; up until a couple hours ago, the answer had hinged on the university you’ve just been rejected from. Sirius looks similarly dubious, gray eyes moving between you and Remus warily.

“Take your time,” Remus urges. One of his palms slides up the line of your calf and back down again. “Think about it.”

“I want…I want good friends at my school,” you say, eyes downcast as you think. “I want to like where I live—to feel at home—and to like my classes too.” You look up at him and your eyes have gone glossy. “I just want to be happy,” you whimper.

There’s heartache in the crease of Remus’ brows, but he rubs your shin consolingly. “You will be happy, sweetheart. None of the things you just said are exclusive to any one school.” He rests both hands on your knees, giving them a little squeeze. “I know it might not feel like it right now, but that wasn’t your only path to happiness. You might even make better friends, or take more interesting classes, or feel more at home wherever you end up than you ever would have at that place.” A tear dribbles down to your chin, and Remus’ eyebrows scrunch concernedly. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“I do. Thanks. Just, I can’t—” You suck in a breath, trying to keep more tears at bay. “I can’t think about that right now.”

“I know.” He rubs your calf, lips pursed. “I know you’re not ready to think about what’s next just yet, darling, but just know you’re going to be alright. We’ll talk about it when you’re ready.”

“Do you want to wallow for a bit?” Sirius asks, cozying up to you and needling his arms under yours to hug you from the side. You sniff, and he takes it for agreement, setting his chin on your shoulder. “Perfect.” He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Wallowing is my specialty, sweetpea. If you wanna cuddle for the next twelve to eighteen hours, I’m your man.”

“You do have work in the morning,” Remus reminds him idly.

“Priorities, Moony. Our beautiful genius sweetheart is sad, if I have to shirk all my responsibilities for the next two weeks to cuddle her, then that’s a small price to pay.”

His scheme works, and a tiny smile worms its way onto your lips. James can practically feel Sirius’ internal fist-pump.

“What?” he goads you, giving your jaw another quick kiss. “You don’t think I’ll do it? No sacrifice is too much for my girl, you know.”

“This is not wallowing,” you point out, and he pouts at you.

“Fine, you’ve caught me.” He dips his head to nip at the ticklish spot on your neck, a near desperate move in James’ opinion, and grins when you giggle unwillingly. “I only like it when I wallow. I want you smiling, without a single unpleasant thought going through that lovely head of yours, all day long. But alas,” he sighs exaggeratedly, resting the side of his head on your shoulder, “we can mope, if that’s what you want.”

You don’t reject his offer, placing your head atop his, but James notices that some of the heaviness has waned from your countenance. He leans over and presses his lips to your temple.

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huggyhughesy · 9 months

Text

Lavender Haze

adam fantilli x hughes!sister

lavender haze

a.n. :: this is a short part 1 in the fic!! let me know what you think <3

My life was theoretically falling apart. Well, maybe not my life, that was a tad dramatic. But my mind was.

On a late-night walk around campus – during which I discovered my headphones were dead – my mind began swirling with thoughts that I’d been drying to drown out for months. Noise cancelling headphones tended to help with that.

Those thoughts that currently plagued my mind were distracting me from my current surroundings, which probably wasn’t the safest place to be at eleven o’clock at night. But I had to sit down, there was too much going on inside for me to process.

Like the fact that my life was only now really beginning – and not in the way that you think it does when you get to high school, or apply to college. I was having to make important decisions. But they were already made for me. By me. I’d made these decisions for myself a long time ago, but now, after months of living on my own and beginning to discover myself, I discovered that the things that I used to think I wanted, were things that I really thought people wanted of me. And this realization during my late-night walk was currently sending me into a spiral.

“Are you okay?”

The male voice made me nearly jump out of the bench seat. I put my hand to my chest, trying to steady my heart rate.

“Oh my God, you scared the shit out of the me.”

The man, who, I won’t lie, was extremely attractive, grinned at me. Even under the dull campus lamp, his smile was bright as can be. He was tall, although him standing and me sitting probably skewed my judgment a little bit.

“Sorry,” he said, still grinning down at me. “Didn’t mean to, just wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” I replied.

This probably wasn’t the best response to give someone who was checking in on your well-being, and my assumption was proven correct when he tilted his head to the side slightly, like he was urging me to explain my current predicament. I didn’t though.

“Can I sit?”

I nodded, and he took a seat next to me. He offered his hand, which I shook with my own. He looked so familiar, especially now that I was seeing him this close up. But I couldn’t exactly place where I’d seen him before. Maybe he was in one of my classes?

“Adam.”

“yn.”

His grin, if possible, got even wider.

“You seem to look very familiar to me, yn. Have we met before?”

After his sentence, it hit me. He was one of Luke’s new teammates. I didn’t get the chance to meet them during the summer, when he invites the team to our house for a couple weeks, but I’d seen plenty of videos and pictures of the team’s summer at our house.

“No, we’ve never met.”

This time though, I smiled at him. Based on the way his grin changed into a smirk, he was in on this charade of pretending that we don’t know each other, even though we were destined to meet in a couple days when the hockey season began.

“Is there any particular reason you’re sitting out here in the dark?”

“Oh, just a slight mid-life crisis. No big deal.”

Adam seemed to think that maybe it actually was a big deal. And it was, but I was never going to admit that to myself.

“Maybe, if you tell someone about your mental breakdown, you’ll feel better about it. I mean, it works for me when I’m freaking out.”

I really didn’t want to tell this guy who I’d never met before about the fact that I was regretting my profession choice. Or that I was about to have a nervous breakdown because after this year, my brother was going to leave, and if I didn’t make any friends freshman year, I wouldn’t have anyone after he leaves. Except for his teammates, but I think they gave me more of a pity friendship.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Adam said, interrupting my spiral. “But I could help you get your mind off of it, if you want to.”

I scrunched my nose, “Ew, no. I don’t want to –”

“That’s not what I meant!” he quickly interjected. “I can provide you with a distraction that doesn’t involve you being with another person. It would require you to leave campus though.”

“Leave campus? How do I know you’re not going to murder me?”

He laughed. Even in my mental state, the laugh did something to me. It sounded so carefree, like everything in his life was going exactly as he had hoped. Although, I suppose it was.

“Do you want to call your brother for reassurance? Or keep pretending like you’ve never met me before?”

Oh. He was confident, too. But I guess I should have expected that, nearly all of my brother’s friends seemed to be way more confident that they should be. I decided to live on the edge for once and play along with his charade.

“How did you know I have a brother?”

I stood, smiling at him. Now I was the one to look down as I spoke to him.

“As long as we’re not going to a frat, I don’t really care where you take me.”

“How do you feel about Canada?”

#adam fantilli #umich hockey #umich hockey imagine #adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli imagine #columbus blue jackets #nhl imagine #blue jackets

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fariesoiree · 6 months

Text

minors mdni

hobie is just so needy today.

it really is his fault but it’s driving you up the wall. he’s the one who insisted on tagging along with you but now he wants to complain. you’re not giving him enough attention, you’re not shopping fast enough, you’re not leaving soon enough. it’s all because of that damn chocolate.

you’re an innocent bystander in all this, for once. he’s the one who discovered it and the one who bought it. originally, he did try to attempt you to try it with him but you flat out refused.

you’re too busy, having to work long hours for the next few days. the last thing you want is some mysterious aphrodisiac running through your system.

hobie has all the time in the world, though. because he doesn’t work a conventional job he figured he’d be the perfect subject. especially after you told him just how doubtful you were.

there is just dozens of products claiming to do the same, both cheaper and expensive. to you, aphrodisiacs are just another scam for the touch starved. never did you think the king of physical affection himself would introduce it into your relationship.

that was a mere few hours ago. now, he’s tugging at your sweater. he will not let you go for more than five seconds without him feeling you up. every time you find yourself stopping to flip through the clothing rack, hobie’s hands are wandering over your body.

“stop it,” you push his hands away from your body for the umpteenth time. this time, they’ve wandered underneath your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin.

the last time you gave him the benefit of the doubt, he’d nearly unclipped your bra.

from an outside perspective, hobie is doting on you with his arms wrapped around you and his head resting on your shoulders. only you know how he squeezes at your tummy and laps the skin on your neck.

“hobart,” you sneer. you’re tempted to push him away from you completely.

that gets him. he hesitates, but only for a second. the shock of his government name leaving your lips doesn’t stop him for long. he’s too far gone, too deep in thinking with his dick. “call me that again and i’ll shove my whole dick in you right now.”

“try it. i’ll kill you, then myself.” you push a hanger on, passing up another skirt. you’re doing your best to make the most of what you have. this is supposed to be a relaxing little treat to yourself for all your hard work. instead, you’re fighting to keep hobie away from you.

you’re only successful for two more seconds before he’s back at it, trying to undress you in public. he tells you he can’t help it. you just look too good and smell too sweet. he’s intoxicated off the strawberry poundcake perfume you’re wearing and the way your ass looks in your jeans.

he pushes against you. groaning into your ear when he fits so snugly against you. the chocolate really has him on fire. just hearing your voice has precum leaking. he’s already addicted to you without it. with it, he’s convinced he’s ready to have baby now. “come on, ☆. let’s just go home. i’ll bring you back tomorrow.”

“baby, i can’t. i work tomorrow.” you untangle your limbs. in the end, you decide it’s better to be separate. he can’t control himself and you can’t control him.

it’s to no avail. just as quickly as you find yourself finally free from his grip, he’s pulling you back into his chest. “okay. then the next day.” he digs his nose into your scalp. the smell of your black vanilla shampoo turns him nearly animalistic

meanwhile, you’re suffocating in his loose black crop top. you wouldn’t care if the corset underneath wasn’t squishing your face. “still can’t. i have class.” you have to lift your head, much to his dismay.

one look at you changes that. it’s a fair trade, he rationalizes with a hungry stare. “okay? then skip it or some shit. i don’t care.” his hands dip down rather quickly. he gropes and grabs, despite your quiet shriek.

“get offa’ me.” you all but shove him, head whipping around to check if anyone saw. you’re lucky the mall is deserted so early in the morning on a weekday. the run of the mill teenagers are busy in class. “i swear to god if you do that again i’ll grind you into dust.” you point a finger at him but you’re sure you don’t look threatening at all.

he reaches for you again, scowling when you narrowly dodge him. “promise?” hobie quips with an annoying raise of his brow. his voice drops to a whisper when he finally catches you and tugs you close. “you can’t even suck me off in the dressing room?”

your face is burning with a fire you’ve never felt before. where he got the confidence to say such words, you have no idea. in public, at that! “are you actually serious?” you pinch the tips of your ears. sure enough, they’re warm with humiliation. does he have no shame?”

oh he’s serious all right. he’s so serious he drags you off to the dressing rooms himself. thanks to his lifelong experience in breaking laws and the learned creeping that comes with living a double life, he slips right by the employees with no problems.

he’s careless, bumping all against the walls, in a rush to lock the door behind you. you’ve never seen him this eager before. sure, during your usual times he’s excited. but right now, he’s nearly cumming before you’re doing anything.

“you’re sure you wanna do this? you really wanna? right here?” you’re quieter than usual, feeling as if it’s required while you’re sneaking around.

“the more you ask me, the longer this will take.” even the way he requests for you to shut up isn’t the same. there is no threat backing up his words, even when he closes the space between you.

you’re curious. some chocolate had your usually composed boyfriend like this? you’re not going to lie to yourself and pretend his change in behavior doesn’t make you feel some type of way.

usually it’s you shaking with need and making a mess everywhere. never have you had this much power in your relationship. if you weren’t on a time crunch and in the privacy of your home, you would have definitely taken your time with him. “you’re the one who needs me. i’ll change my mind.”

“please don’t play with me, right now. i ate the whole fucking square and i swear to – if you don’t do something, i’ll suck it myself.” he’s so frantic to remove the layers of silver belts, it takes him nearly twice as long. you aid him, taking pity. it’s you so many times on that end of the stick. even though you’ve never eaten an aphrodisiac, having hobie as your boyfriend is enough.

you giggle when hobie shuffles toward you, pants hanging loosely. he doesn’t share your sentiment. apparently, nothing about this is funny. he doesn’t argue back. just pops his dick in your face.

your wrap your fingers around the base and already, he’s groaning. for once he has to brace himself against you, hands resting in your shoulders.

“y’know you have to be quiet right?” you glance up at him. you test his reactions with slow jerks of your wrist. you don’t really need to when he’s already this worked up but it’s nice to the one causing the soft sighs.

his breath fans over your face and warms your cheeks. between his glistening shaft and his tightly wounded face, you don’t know where to look. “don’t let this, fuck. don’t let this go to your head.”

it’s far too late for that but you don’t tell him. you just smile to yourself instead and swirl your tongue around his tip. you’re teasing, he knows, but he honestly doesn’t care. his senses are heightened so much this feels like enough.

jokes on him, hobie is unprepared when you do begin to swallow him. he shocks himself when he gasps and pushes your head away. it’s so uncharacteristic of him that even he is embarrassed about it. “shit, baby. could have said something first.” he feels pathetic avoiding your gaze and even more so he meets his own in the mirror.

you shake your head, tongue darting out to lick the slightly salty remnants off your lips. “you don’t get to annoy me all day and push me away.” it would be unfair if you didn’t enjoy this, right? it’s only right after all he’s put you through. you owe it to him to leave him shaking.

he’s just about to chastise you and defend his honor when you’re right where you started. this time, however, you’re forcing yourself to take as much as you can.

hobie is constantly bumping against your throat with the way you’re bobbing your head. tears prickle your eyes and occasionally you gag but it’s all worth it. all when his hand is flying to cover his mouth and the other one has a grip on your hair.

contrary to popular belief, he isn’t forcing your head down but pulling your head away. he’s far more sensitive than he thought, too sensitive for his own good.

his hand is barely sufficient to keep his cries to a minimum, alternating between telling you to stop and to keep going.

your nails dig into his skin, being your main defense from being yanked off. you only stop to come up for air. your thumb circles around his tip with enough pressure to have him shuddering. your breath fans over his skin when you press wet kisses along his shaft.

“baby,” hobie speaks with his clenched in a fist, knuckles in his mouth. it serves as a warning. his brain is too far incapacitated to form sentences.

“if you’re gonna cum, do it in my mouth.” you mumble, words ghosting over him. it’s embarrassing enough to be giving him a blowjob in the mall dressing room. the last thing you want is cum stains littering your top.

it only takes his dick being enveloped in the warmth of your mouth for him to be shooting out thick ropes. hobie whines, using the hold he has on your hair to pull you off.

you wait until his eyes are on you to make a show out of swallowing his load, mouth opening to display the disappearing evidence.

it’s probably a mistake on your part when you physically see the hunger return in his face with a vengeance.

“fuck that was hot. let’s go home and do it again.”

your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “what?” you don’t understand how he can already be thinking of another round when he was just griping about his sensitivity. “but what about me? i want to stay.” you watch him scramble to redress himself, accessories and all. your eyebrows knit together because there is no way some chocolate can do this.

“i’ll bring you back tomorrow,” he insists, pulling you to your feet. whatever secrecy you still have is thrown out the window when he pushes the door open with enough force to have it ricocheting off the wall.

“but i can’t. i have work, remember?” you cup the back of your head as he leads you through the store, right to the exit. you didn’t have time to fix your hair. he’s been so inconsiderate, it’s not fair.

“okay then we’ll go the next day.”

“ ‘bie, i have class – ” you really have to look at what they put in this stuff.

“then fuckin’ skip it. i don’t care.”

#ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙#my very best attempt at sub bie #hope you like it :3 #astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader

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discworld-heritage-posts · 4 months

Note

What do you think you add? Do you think you make a poignant post better when after scrolling down through it we see someone saying it's "official"?

I'm choosing to interpret this ask as a genuine question (albeit one that's been worded a bit rudely) instead of a hate anon, because I wouldn't want to tarnish people's dashboards with hate anons.

Now, to answer your genuine question... The "Discworld Heritage Post" tagline I add to the end of posts has as much validity as I have authority to bestow it: none. Do I think my tagline makes posts better? Of course not! And I certainly don't think I make them official, (and neither my url or my pinned post claim that I do so).

I don't know what reasons other people had to start their own Heritage Posts blogs for other fandoms, but I will gladly tell you mine: I got into Discworld. I discovered the Discworld fandom in Tumblr. And, one day, while scrolling down some Discworld related tags, the idea just popped into my head. After checking that there wasn't a Discworld Heritage Posts blog already, I decided to make one.

I personally follow a few Heritage Posts blogs, and my reason to do so is probably the same as to why many people follow this blog: I wanted to see that kind of content. Tracking tags and being up to date on the most popular posts of a fandom is doable, but doing so for the dozens upon dozens of media I'm into is impossible, so I like to follow some Heritage Posts blogs to get some of those posts directly into my dashboard (it's also worth mentioning that sometimes, some iconic posts are made when people comment stuff on them, and those don't appear in the search tags, so following blogs that post about a certain fandom is the best way to come across some of those collaborative posts, because otherwise you'd rarely get to see them). So yes, I created a blog that, had it already existed, I would have liked to follow. Also, while other blogs with this gimmick usually limit themselves to reblogging, let's call them the "greatest hits", I've said since the beginning that I didn't care about how many notes something had. Be it cool art or a funny or insightful post, if I like it, I send it to my drafts.

However, none of those reasons are the main reason why I made this blog. The main reason is that I did it for myself. After exhausting all the content that showed up in the Popular Posts tab, I couldn't help but think of all the gold and treasure that wasn't there, buried and hidden due to the way Tumblr's search engine works. If you're familiar with the Discworld concept of "lies-to-children", that's what the "top posts of all time" is in Tumblr. A 20k post from 2016 will not be there, but a six month old post with 400 notes will show up. Surely there had been amazing Discworld posts and art posted in 2015 and 2013, but I wasn't going to find most of them unless I expressly went looking for them. And this blog was the perfect excuse to do so. As of replying to this ask, there's nearly 600 posts sitting in my drafts, and if I didn't have this blog I would have never discovered 90% of them. And those are the ones I've seen. I still have dozens of places I haven't searched.

I know that if I reblog a month old post with over 2k notes, a lot of people in the fandom will have already seen it. However, a 2k notes post from 2014, or a drawing with 40 notes from 2012 is something that is less likely to have hit people's dashes recently, or at all. When you come across the "Discworld Heritage Post" tagline in a post, please don't picture me as an uppity monarch performing the Tumblr equivalent of a knighting ceremony, or a stuffy museum curator deigning a piece worthy of being included in an exhibition. Picture me as a kid enthusiastically jumping and flailing my arms around while yelling "holy shit guys check out what I just found!!", because that's how I feel running this blog.

Ultimately, whether one of my posts does better or worse is indifferent to me, because they aren't my posts, or memes, or drawings. I'm just the intermediary. That being said, of course it's not indifferent to me, because more engagement means that was a post many people hadn't seen before, or had forgotten about, and one of my goals was to run a blog that would allow people to find those hidden or long forgotten gems.

When all is said and done, Heritage Post blogs are just another one of Tumblr's gimmicks. If we're not your cup of tea, you're free to ignore or block us. If you want to reblog something and don't want the tagline, you can reblog it directly from OP (or from another reblog if OP has deactivated their account).

#long post #THAT BEING SAID #I've seen people being very exited about something they made showing up in this blog and calling it an honor and stuff like that #and to those people I say: I see you and your lovely tags and my heart warms when I read them #i might not have any real authority besides a self imposed gimmick in a nearly defunct social media platform #but if seeing your stuff here makes you happy and proud those feelings are valid and I want you to treasure them #a lot of things only have the meaning we ascribe to them and my tagline might not hold any official meaning #but it does mean something VERY IMPORTANT:#that I saw your post and I loved it and I reblogged it to make sure other people could also find it and love it #I need to come up with a tag for asks don't I? ok how about #asked and answered #dhp's asks #discworld

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kiiwiigii · 9 months

Text

Lingerie

Jane x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jane discovers a lacy surprise while folding your laundry. ;)

Warnings:

NSFW 18+

Spanking

Word Count: 600+

Requested?: Yes! I hope you enjoy nonny!

A/N: I'm still not comfortable writing F/F smut, but I hope this will suffice.

If there were 3 things that could be said about Jane, it was this:

Jane enjoyed inflicting pain, which was obvious and well known

When she was bored, she tended to do rather mundane tasks to keep her busy, such as today's task: laundry.

Jane was rarely, if ever, surprised.

But today seemed to be one of those rare days when she pulled a rather skimpy lace bra from a pile of her mate's laundry. One she had never seen before. She stared, wide-eyed, before digging further into the laundry basket to find a matching pair of panties with nothing but pieces of string to cover the backside.

I hummed to myself as I opened the bedroom door, pushing it closed with my foot as I juggled my laundry basket that Jane had so kindly folded for me.

I smiled at the thought. It was things like this that made me fall in love with Jane even more. She knew I hated doing laundry with a passion. So, she'd take care of it for me and in turn I'd put the laundry away.

I nearly dropped the basket in surprise when I saw Jane sitting on my bed. She was leaning back on her hands, observing me, head cocked to the side, and a smirk on her lips.

While Jane herself surprised me, what surprised me even more was what was lying on the bed next to her. The new set of lingerie I had gotten to surprise her with.

Well shit. I had completely forgotten about it. I had meant to wash it myself.

"Y/N." Her voice was husky as she dipped her head towards the lace on the bed. "Care to explain?"

"I meant to surprise you, love." I grinned as my heartbeat picked up.

She flicked her eyes up, looking up at me through her lashes. "Well? What are you waiting for? Surprise me. And make sure you keep the heels."

I blushed as I set the laundry basket down quickly before grabbing the lingerie and slipping off to the bathroom. It took a minute to strip, and redress. I was excited, but I couldn't help the roiling pit of nervousness in my stomach.

What if she didn't like it?

"Y/N?"

I swallowed, pushing the nervousness aside. Jane didn't like to be kept waiting. I opened the door cautiously, forcing myself to move, putting a little swing in my hips just for her, my heels helping me with the action.

I watched as her eyes darkened, and she licked her lips. She got up, dragging her hand across my waist and back as she circled me like a predator would prey. She paused in front of me, bringing me in for a kiss. I slipped my arms around her neck, moaning as I relaxed in her arms.

Her hands roamed, letting her cool fingers brush my nipples, thumbing over them, before traveling down my waist and stomach before reaching around to my nearly naked backside. She popped my ass suddenly and I gasped in surprise, the stinging sensation helping the wet heat between my legs to multiply.

Jane took advantage of my gasp to dip her tongue into the wet heat of my mouth. She smacked my ass again and I moaned. She pulled at my bottom lip, her cool hands caressing my backside before following up with a quick succession of smacks.

I whimpered, tears stinging my eyes and wiggling my hips and clenching my thighs against the pulsing now taking over my pussy. I was so wet that I could practically feel the slick running down my thighs.

She pulled back, her eyes a dark burgundy, almost black.

"On the bed, ass up, darling."

{Masterlist} // {Request Guidlines}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @lack-lust-3rr @rosedpetal

Wanna be notified when I post a new fic? Ask to join my taglist!

#jane volturi x reader #jane volturi #volturi #twilight #fanfic #reader insert

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vanfleeter · 1 year

Text

Apple Pie // JTK

Pairing: Jake x reader Warning: SMUT (minors stay the hell away, thank you), teasing, edging, penetrative sex, fingering. Author's Note: Sometimes even tik tok gives me ideas. Also, not easy writing smut while you're tired.

Summary: Jake has bad luck after bad luck all day and all he wants is the apple pie waiting for him back home.

Today has been nothing but bad luck for Jake.

First he woke up and quickly found out that his phone never charged overnight and now he has less than 20% left. How? He barely used it. But he looks down at the cord to see it completely fried in the outlet.

Oh great. Something that needs to be fixed.

Then after his shower, he discovers his blow dryer has officially gone dead. Which means he has to go all day air drying his hair. Talk about a bad hair day.

To do list:

Call an electrician and get the outlet fixed in bedroom

Buy a new hair dryer

Not exactly how he envisioned his morning.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, he hits a pothole in the road spilling his coffee all over the front of his pants. “Oh fuck!” He shouts. He earns snickers from the guys as soon as he steps into the office space.

“I did not pee myself.” He says pointing to Josh. “So don’t say it.”

“I was gonna say you look awful.” Josh says. “Rough morning?”

Jake rolls his eyes and collapses into the nearest couch. “First my phone never charged because the whole outlet was fried, so I have to get that fixed. Then my blow dryer just gave out on me so now I have to air dry my hair and it looks like shit. But to make matters worse, I hit a fucking pot hole and spilt my coffee all over my pants.” He hangs his head back against the top of the couch and closes his eyes. “Today just fucking sucks already.”

“Well, what better way to take your mind off of the mishaps than to play some music?” Sam says. “We’re nearly done with these songs, I know we can finish them today.”

Jake heaves a sigh and pushes himself off the couch. As he does, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he pulls it out to find a text from you.

“I know your morning hasn’t been going great, so I thought I’d make some apple pie. Something good to look forward to when you get home.”

He smiles and types back a quick response before stuffing his phone back into his pocket and following the others into the studio.

They nearly made it to the very end of the song when suddenly one of the strings on Jake’s guitar snaps. He groans as he hangs his head. “Fucking hell…” He mutters as he rips his guitar off of his body.

The other three stare at him wondering who should speak if any. But they glanced between themselves and silently decided to leave him be.

Leaving the sound room with his guitar, he goes down the hall to the equipment area and digs around for a new string. Once he locates the ones he needs, he sets his guitar on the table and sets to work on fixing it. While he does, he starts to run over his day in his head.

“What else could possibly go wrong?” He mutters as he finishes fixing the string on his guitar.

“Should one of us go check on him?” Josh asks as he leans against his stool.

“I think it's best if we let him cool off.” Danny says.

“He’s right,” Sam says as he kicks a hacky sack back and forth. “Last thing one of us needs is for him to blow his top. I’m not in the mood to be yelled at today.”

Danny looks over Sam, his eyebrows knitting together when he sees the hacky sack. “Sam, what the hell is that?”

“A hacky sack.”

“And you brought that because…”

“Because I wanted to play with it?” Sam questions.

“But why–” Danny shakes his head. “Never mind..”

Sam shrugs his shoulders and resumes his little game. He kicks it between his feet again and behind him but kicks it slightly too hard and sends it to the ceiling. It bounces off the ceiling and hits the snare drum of Danny’s drum kit before bouncing back up into the air and hitting the wall opposite of Danny.

“Sam!” Josh shouts as he dodges the sack.

“Sorry!”

The sack bounces off of the wall and smacks right into Jake’s face as he walks through the door. They all cringe at the sight. Jake groans as he holds his face.

“Seriously?” He says as he kicks the door shut behind him. “What the hell was that?”

“Sorry..” Sam mutters.

“Sam thought it would be fun to bring a hacky sack to the studio..” Danny says as he shoots Sam a look.

“I said I was sorry..”

Jake huffs and lets his shoulders. “Can we just call it for today?” He says. “I’m done with today and I just want to go home and eat pie.”

“Pie?” Sam perks up.

“Not for you, hacky sack.” Danny says.

“Damn..”

Josh sighs and pushes off his stool. “Yeah, we can call it a day. We got a lot farther than I hoped we’d get.”

“Thank you.” Jake sighs. He packs up his guitar and makes haste to get out of the studio. He pulls out his phone and calls your number and waits for you to answer.

Pulling out onto the freeway, he hears the ring end and be replaced with your voice. “Hi baby, how’s work going?”

“Just left..”

“Oh wonderful. You’ll be home just in time for pie.”

“I have been thinking about that all day.”

“Don’t I feel neglected.” You feign offense with a giggle.

Jake chuckles. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of a pie.”

“Maybe a little.” You say. “How’d the rest of your day go? Better, I hope.”

“Eh..”

“Uh oh..”

Jake sighs. “I hit a pothole on the way to work and spilled coffee all over my pants so I had to spend the whole day with coffee stained pants.”

“Oh honey, I could have brought you new ones.”

“Eh no, it wasn’t a big deal. We weren’t doing anything important that I would have to change for.”

“What else happened?”

“Everything seemed to be going great after that. But.. Never assume..”

You lean against the kitchen counter with the phone pressed to your ear. “What happened?”

“First a string snaps on my guitar..”

“You never like that.”

“Exactly.. And then as I come back, I get smacked in the face with Sam’s hacky sack.”

“He brought a hacky sack to the studio?”

“Such a dumbass sometimes..”

You giggle. “How’s your face?”

“My nose is throbbing.” Jake groans. “I didn’t even know hacky sacks could hurt that bad.”

“Aw, baby I’m sorry. But don’t fret, your apple pie will be waiting for you when you get here.”

“Great,” Jake says as he puts on his turn signal to change lanes. “I need something sweet and warm after the hell I went through today.”

“Ahh, maybe you’re taking this whole ‘Welcome To Hell’ bit slightly too far.” You joke.

“Ha ha ha, you’re so funny.” He sarcastically says.

“Well.. I’ll have you know. The pie won’t be the only thing sweet and warm waiting for you when you get home.”

“Oh yeah?” He shifts his seat.

“I’ve been thinking about it all day.” You say. “How after you devour the pie, maybe, just maybe you can have another sweet and warm treat when you get home.”

Jake’s fingers curl around the steering wheel. His knuckles slowly turn white the tighter he grips it. “Stop it..” He growls.

“Aw, is my baby getting all hot and bothered?” You tease. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Seeing me spread out just for you. I bet I taste better than the pie.”

Jake’s right hand shoots to the growing bulge beneath his pants and gently palms himself.

“I take your silence as a yes?” You ask.

A moan escapes his lips. “Mmhmm.. Yes, baby.”

“Jacob Kiszka, are you getting off while driving?”

“Mmmm, maybe..”

“Jacob!”

He chuckles. “Well stop talking like that.”

“Jake, you need to pay attention to driving.”

“Oh I am..” He says. “I can do both.”

It wasn’t long before he heard a loud pop and his car shaking as it moved. “Jake, what was that?”

He peers into the side view mirror to see the left back tire completely blown. “Oh fuck… Just more things to add to the list of ‘what else could go wrong?’.” Pulling off to the side of the freeway and throwing on his hazards.

“What happened?” You ask.

“Damn tire blew..”

“Do you have a spare?”

Jake sighs and lays his head back against the seat. “Yeah..”

“Do you know how to change it?”

“Babe…”

“I’m just asking. I’ve never seen you change a tire.”

“That’s because I’ve never had to. I’ll shoot you a text when I’m on my way again..” He ends the call and gets out of the car. Unhooking the spare tire from the back of his jeep, he sets it on the ground and retrieves the tools he needs from the trunk. —

You hear the front door close, slightly louder than normal. He’s definitely not happy. Closing your book, you get up from the couch and step out into the hallway to see him dumping his keys into the glass bowl on the table and setting the guitar case up against the wall. As he starts to make his way towards you, the guitar case slowly slides off the wall and lands with a loud thud on the floor. His shoulders hike up as he freezes in his steps.

Heaving a sigh, he shakes his head and continues walking towards you. Dropping his head on your shoulder, you run your fingers through his hair.

“Don’t touch my hair..” He mumbles into the skin of your neck. “It’s gross.” You lightly giggle and he lifts his head.

“You know you could have used my hair dryer this morning.” You say.

His jaw slightly falls open. “I–” He sighs. “I didn’t even think about that.”

You smile and pull him off to the kitchen. “It’s all okay, because your sweet apple pie has been waiting for you all day.”

“And I’ve been waiting for it all damn day.”

You cut him a slice and lay it on a plate before handing it off to him. “Eat at the table.”

“I know, I know.” Jake says as he turns on his heels and heads for the table. As he sets it on the table, he goes to sit down but accidentally bumps the plate with his hand sending the plate and the pie crashing on the floor.

He falls into the chair and hangs his head. “Fuck. My. Life.”

“I can get you another-”

Jake shakes his head. He bends over and picks up the plate and the fork and scoops the slice of pie onto the plate before bringing it to the trash can and dumping it inside.

“I’m going to bed…”

“Aw no, Jake.”

“Today has just been horrible.. I just want to go to bed now…”

You watch him as he sulks off towards the stairs. Grabbing the roll of paper towels, you rip off a couple and go to clean the floor off from the sticky pie goo.

Going upstairs to the bedroom, you find Jake curled up in a ball beneath the covers. “Jakey..” You sing as you climb onto the bed.

“Go away.”

“Aw, is my poor baby going to pout all night?”

Jake turns over to look at you, his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes slowly turning dark. You crawl across the bed and gently straddle his waist.

“Poor baby?” He says. “Did you just ‘poor baby’ me?” He says, grabbing your hips in his hands and squeezing tightly.

You shrug your shoulders. “Well, you are acting like one.”

He suddenly flips the two of you over so that he’s on top of you. His hair dangly loosely in the sides of his face as his necklace rests gently on your chest. “I’m gonna show you who the poor baby is going to be and it won’t be me.”

He feels your body shiver beneath him. A wicked smile spreads across his face.

“I was wondering when my turn would be.” You say stroking your fingers down his back.

“Were you really jealous of that apple pie?”

“Maybe a little.” You say.

He chuckles before leaning down to kiss you. “Nothing is sweeter or tastier than my baby..” He brings his hands down to the waistband of your sweats and slips it beneath the fabric. He rubs the pads of his fingers into the fabric of your underwear and hums in delight when he feels your wetness. “Oh baby, you’re already so wet.”

“I told you that pie wouldn’t be the only thing sweet and warm waiting for you. You thought you were the only one all hot and bothered?”

He presses his fingers harder against you as he continues the circular movements. You allow your head to fall back into the pillows as a moan escapes your lips. Removing his hand from inside of your pants, he pulls away and leans back on his knees to grab the fabric of your sweats and pull them down your legs along with your underwear.

You can see his cock bulging beneath his pants. He undoes his belt and pushes down his pants before climbing back onto the bed. He grabs your legs and gently opens them. You can see the lust and hunger in his eyes as he stares at your soaked core.

He doesn’t hesitate. He wraps his arms around your thighs and sinks his face in between your legs. You feel his tongue lick you from bottom to top and slip in between your folds. Your hands instinctively find their way to his hair and grip tightly to his loose curls. He groans into you, the vibrations eliciting another moan from you.

Removing one of his arms around your thighs, he brings his fingers in and gently guides them in to work alongside his tongue.

“You’re so fucking sweet baby..” He says when he lifts his face.

“Sweeter than an apple pie?”

He snorts and drops his head. “The Chordettes, really?” You giggle as you nod your head.

He goes back to pumping his fingers as he brings himself back up to you. “I think the song is about how sweet a man is.”

“Oh you can be sweet too baby.” You say. He leans down again and kisses you. You moan when you feel his fingers curl inside of you, your walls clenching around them. “So sweet..” He smiles against your lips and removes his fingers. You whine and open your eyes to look at him. “Don’t you dare.”

He chuckles. “Did my poor baby want to cum?” He teases.

“Jake!” You whine.

“Hold yourself.”

“What are you doing?” You ask as you watch climb off the bed. He disappears from the room and you hear his footsteps fall down the stairs. “Jake!”

“Be patient!” You hear him yell.

Patient? He thinks you can be patient. Who the fuck does he think he is?

Slowly you start to move your hand down to your center. Just as you’re about to touch yourself and finish what he started, you hear his voice boom up the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it!”

You groan and pull your hand away. “Jake! Come back up here!”

“In a minute!” His voice is slightly muffled as he grumbles out the words that he speaks.

“Are you eating right now?!”

No answer.

“Jacob!”

You climb off the bed and grab your robe to slip on and tie around your waist. Storming downstairs and to the kitchen you see him perched at the island counter with a fork on his hand. You watch him as he digs into the pie and takes another bite. His eyes never leave you as his mouth devours the pie and his tongue licks the sweet caramel off of the fork. A smirk forms on his face.

“You’re eating pie?!”

He nods his head. “Like I said, I’ve been waiting all damn day for it.”

“So did you do all that and then you just leave to eat pie?!”

“Mmhmm.”

“You’re an ass, you know that.”

“So I’ve been told.” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. He chuckles and shakes his head. “Now who’s the poor baby? Are you having a bad night?”

He sets his fork inside of the tin pan and pushes it away. He motions you over. You sigh and walk over to him and he pulls you onto his lap.

“I’m sorry but I really wanted that pie.” He says kissing you. “Where were we?” He clicks his tongue. “I remember.”

He sets you on the ground and discards your robe before picking you up and carrying you over to the couch. Laying you down, he climbs in between your legs and hooks them around your waist. You both moan in pleasure as he slides himself inside of you.

“Fuck baby..” He groans. He drops his head on your chest as he bottoms out.

He begins to slowly thrust in and then out until he finds the right pace. His arms are propped up on both sides of your head and use them as leverage to thrust deeper and rougher. Your fingers dig deep into his back making his muscle flex instinctively. He moves his right arm from beside your head to wrap underneath your body and hold you tightly to his body. He flicks his head to the side allowing his hair to flip to the side of his head. Seeing his necklaces swaying viciously back and forth above you, you reach your head up and grab hold of the coin pendant with your teeth and swirl your tongue around it, your eyes never leaving his. You let go of the pendant and pull his head down to you so you can kiss him. He groans against your lips.

“Fuck baby..” He moans. “I’m—Oh—Baby..”

You meet him at his high as he spills inside of you. He still holds you tightly as he fucks you through his orgasm and yours.

“That’s my baby..” He murmurs against the sweat covered skin of your chest. He presses a gentle kiss to the middle of your chest. His movements slow down as he catches his breath. He eventually removes himself from you and rests his head on your chest.

“Now I want pie.” You say making him laugh.

He pushes off of you and pulls you off the couch. You stumble a little and he catches you. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. He scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the kitchen and places you on the counter top. He grabs a cloth from the oven handle and soaks it under the faucet before using it to clean you up.

“So I’d say that your day did a full one eighty, yeah?” You say as you reach for the tin pan still containing what was left of the apple pie.

He nods his head and discards the towel on the floor. He grabs your hips and slides you to the edge of the counter. You stab a piece of pie and lift it to his mouth. He gladly opens and takes the bite of pie. You dig in again and take your own bite of it. You moan and roll your eyes.

“Are you sure I’m sweeter than this pie?”

He slides his hand down to your core and drags his fingers through your folds. After he had just cleaned you, he was turning you into a mess again. “Do you want to taste yourself?” You nod your head and he brings his fingers up to your mouth. You open your mouth and he inserts them. “Who tastes better? You or the pie?” He pulls his fingers from your mouth and leans against the counter, his hands resting on the marble on either side of you. He cocks his head with a smug look on his face.

“Definitely the pie.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Bullshit.” He gives you a kiss but groans when he tastes you mixed with the pie. “It’s like fucking crack.”

Finalizada

taglist: @losfacedevil @lightmylove-gvf @safarithong @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf (some people i wanted to tag but your handle didn't show up)

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #greta van fleet fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #greta van fleet fanfic #smut #jake kiszka smut

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defilerwyrm · 8 months

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I'm a trans man who wants phallo SO bad but the Fear Mongering people do makes me so scared. I have such a fear of surgery anyway and people say phallo is nearly 23hrs long, and it has more risks than heart surgery does, and idk if these are true bc I'm too scared to google it..But I want it so bad, but the stuff I hear scares me. Also people saying it doesn't have any sensation worries me. You said trans men can ask about it so I hope this is ok to do on anon!!! I'd appreciate a non fear filled reply so much thanks!!

23 hours!! Those poor surgeons, can you imagine!

Virtual hugs if you’re the hugging type, Anon, and a cool rock if you’re not.

Those things are definitely not true, not remotely. It’s a long surgery, but when I say it’s long that means it’s about 8 hours all told. It sounds like maybe someone heard it referred to as an “all-day” thing meaning a full WORK day, but instead assumed that that meant a full CALENDAR day. Or, you know, a transphobe made shit up to scare people.

It is most definitely not nearly as risky to your wellbeing as a surgery in which they saw open your sternum and cut open your actual beating heart. There is a fairly high chance of a minor complication that can result in the terrible ordeal of getting pee on your pants sometimes—a urethral fistula—and in most cases, they close up on their own anyway without needing another surgery to correct them. And in this case, “fairly high” means 40%, so it’s still less than half a chance that it’ll happen in the first place. At worst it’s annoying. Serious complications, the type that put you in danger, are extremely rare.

The sensation thing is also false, because they literally harvest a length of nerve from your donor site and hook it up to your existing bits specifically so you WILL have sensation! Sure, it takes a little while for the nerve to heal, but that’s just the reality of ANY surgery.

The nerve grows back in your donor site, too, by the way. While I was typing this up I discovered that one particular spot on my graft is ticklish.

Everyone has their own individual healing factor, but speaking for myself, I had full erotic sensation before the 3-month mark, and the orgasms have been incredible. The head and base are highly sensitive, and everything in between responds pretty damn nicely too, just less of a hit-the-ceiling level of sensitivity. And, you know, if you’ve handled an AMAB person’s penis much at all you’ll know that’s pretty much in keeping with how their dicks work too.

It is an in-patient surgery so if you have it, you’ll be staying in a hospital for a few days so they can keep an eye out for rare disasters. My stay was four or five days of snoring most of the day and periodically getting woken up to eat or answer some simple check-in questions, lift my arm for nurses to move stuff, etc, and then conking back out.

Being cathed sucks, but two weeks of frequent trips to the toilet to drain your bag is honestly nothing compared to a lifetime without (or with vastly reduced) bottom dysphoria. That’s the part that I hated. Everything else was your typical recovery: 10-15 days of sleeping 20 hours a day, then however many weeks of being tired, taking meds, and careful washing, gradually feeling more and more normal until you’re back up to full and ready to get back to business as usual.

Except with this one, you get to learn to pee standing up in the process. :D

(Protip: don’t try a public urinal until you’ve got it down pat at home. Not because of cis men, but because the learning process is messy, lol! The overwhelming majority of cis men in public restrooms want nothing to do with anyone else while they’re in there. The only place anyone’s gonna give your dick more than half a second’s accidental glance is in a gay bar. In 8+ years of using public men’s rooms I have yet to see one (1) penis that wasn’t mine!)

#phalloplasty #ftm #trans men #bottom surgery #trans matters #transphobia.#queerdom #medical transition #replies to things

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iamafictionfreak · 6 months

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TIS THE SEASON TO BE MERTHUR!

Just... Look at them!

I miss everything about this show. Even the very bad CGI and the weak-ass plot points/armour/conveniences/contrivances.

One Christmas Eve, almost 11 years ago, the entire Merlin fandom was butchered into tiny little distraught pieces. It didn’t matter if your favourite character was Merlin or Morgana, Gaius or Gwen. The showrunners held no qualms in destroying your dreams for Gwaine or Perce. The writers did not hold back in their aim to crucify the smile on your face, to forever turn it upside down. No ship was spared. All hopes for the show to finally commit to their original intent, to bring peace between peoples, to save Albion, to allow Merlin his freedom and Arthur the truth, was brought to a bitter, fatalistic end.

Not that I need to repeat this to you, you know what happened, but it’s worth reiterating that this travesty occurred… on Christmas Eve.

CHRISTMAS. EVE.

Christmas Eve.

The night before Christmas, the night before the day where all rules are broken and we can frolic like children around a decorated tree filled with twinkling lights, our collective hearts were shredded.

This event (once we recovered a tiny bit from the shock) gave birth to a plethora of astonishingly well written, poignant, devastating, hilarious fanfictions that had helped nurse our wounds, for nothing could TRULY heal (except a follow-up season with the original characters, come ON BBC) us.

After nearly 11 years of watching these brilliant entries grow, I never thought I’d jump on this bandwagon and write my own fic.

But I've had a few very shit years, as have many people around the world, and I started to wonder as we do when we want to prove magic can still happen.

My brain decided that it wanted my hands to write the most indulgent, likely over done fic in existence for the fandom. This thought stuck with me throughout the year – I was being STALKED by myself – and wouldn’t leave me the hell alone. This hasn’t happened in a long while.

Still… you’ll eyeroll at the idea. It's so OBVIOUS, I'm embarrassed by myself.

What if Arthur discovered Merlin’s magic from the get-go, from episode 1?

WAIT. Hear me out…

So, Merlin saves Arthur for the first time and Arthur SEES. He sees his eyes glow.

He knows he should tell his father, but his instincts are screaming at him. Honour is at stake. This stranger saved his life. How could he reward it with an execution? So, a chance needs to be given, doesn’t it? A chance for Merlin to give up magic forever and live a life of goodness, to turn away from evil and serve Arthur…

Except Arthur can’t help but wonder. About Magic, about Merlin and magic, about the law and all the whys attached and his place within this chain.

But he also can’t trust this peasant who cavorts with the devil, practices wickedness but smiles like a child and offers compassion to everyone. Someone so duplicitous must be dangerous… except Merlin’s an actual idiot! And it’s getting really difficult to keep his guard up.

But isn’t that how sorcerers work? They twist the mind with pleasing ideas, they tempt and coerce, they manipulate.

And slowly, Arthur finds himself being manipulated too. For how could he ever want to trust this man- but he does. He does.

And we’ve never been allowed to see Merlin deal with a S1 Arthur who’s in the ‘know’. Who’s forcing him to keep it secret, who’s threatening him with trial by fire, a young Arthur who’s ignorant, arrogant and so desperate to understand what he cannot trust.

Then there's the layers, royalty versus peasantry, friendship versus alliances, goals versus ideals.

I want to write a fic where this trust is built from the ground up. One of the things about the show that made it impossible for me to let it go is that the ‘relationship’ between Arthur and Merlin fits exactly zero categories, yet all of them.

Master and servant.

Friends

Family

Allies

Enemies

Romantic ideals

Platonic soulmates

Absolute Soulmates

I could go on. And it's one of those rare shows where the writing would be given more oomph if the males leads had dared cross a line or two.

Realistically, they weren't even friends. They were master and servant who'd become a little co-dependant. Arthur could never admit to anything more because of his station, but would he have been able to being completely himself around Merlin if he'd known the truth? We never see Arthur truly be himself. He wasn't allowed to be, not even with his wife. There was always a wall - it was how he was raised and any attempt to develop was killed by plot.

We never saw Merlin completely free, not with a single person. He started happy and healthy and innocent. A liar. He ended up bitter and terrified and angry and alone. Still a liar.

What would he have become if there'd been one person he could truly trust- not Gaius. Not a man already broken and brainwashed by his own self. A victim of the system just as much as he perpetuated the hate and completely unaware of the trap he lived in.

Many of the characters in the show have the versatility and potential to be written a trillion different ways, is it any wonder that fics continue to be written?

Well, I wanted to explore a slow burn development of trust, with Arthur learning how wrong he was, how much he’s trampled on, and all about the seemingly normal peasant boy who meant more to the world than Arthur could possibly understand. What would they have become if they’d been given the time, hm?

When they were young - yes, I'm going there - wild and free.

What of Morgana, what if she could have trusted? What if she could have understood? Would it have turned out differently? Would she have still become the other side of Uther's coin?

Would Merlin still have ended up alone?

There’s lots more I wanted to touch upon, it’s a big what if, but that’ll have to wait for another post.

I’m writing a 5 part prologue that occurs between episode 1 and 2. I’m hoping to release it for Christmas and then take the time to write the rest of the season.

Unless… you guys think it’s a waste of time? Let me know.

In the meantime, I’m STILL SUFFERING (fucking show) and it's making me write, write, write!

(gifs not mine)

#merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #guinevere #morgana #Gaius #uther pendragon #fuck uther #potential #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin fandom

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