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landwriter · 1 year

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honestly would love to hear more about twinflower if you felt like sharing? :)

I have been drafting this ask response on and off for over a week because I want everyone to love twinflower as much as I do thank you for your patience uh I mean yes! I do feel like sharing! thank you for enabling me! make yourself a cuppa and get comfy. it's Gloam's Natural History Hour, and here is everything you should love about the twinflower

Let us begin with the Latin name: Linnaea borealis. But first, it was Campanula serpyllifolia. Let me explain.

Twinflower is a small and unremarkable evergreen plant that nonetheless captured the heart of one of the world's most influential scientists in the eighteenth century. Species Plantarum is best-known for containing the first consistent use of binomial nomenclature (genus and species), but it was also there that Carl Linnaeus described twinflower for the first time.

It is a creeping subshrub that grows along the ground, with green and glossy shallow-toothed oval leaves about the size of dimes. Blooms come from delicate hairy stems that have unfolded themselves to the comparatively towering height of two or so inches above the ground. They are pinkish-white, nodding, and look like the sort of thing you'd imagine a fairy lives in. As you might suspect from the name, they grow in pairs. Some three centuries after Linnaeus first described it, one Mark C. in the comments of a 2013 blog post described the fragrance as "a delight to the most jaded sniffer".

In portraits, he is often found holding it. (Linnaeus, not Mark C.) He dearly loved it. But he could not name twinflower after himself: at first, it was classified in a different genus, and besides, it was poor taste. What's a guy to do?

Become acquainted with a wealthy Dutch botanist, Gronovius, son not of preachers and peasants but classical scholars, who would name it for him in his honour. Naturally. In gratitude, and advocacy for such acts of commemorative botanical naming, Linnaeus wrote in Critica Botanica:

It is commonly believed that the name of a plant which is derived from that of a botanist shows no connection between the two...[but]...Linnaea was named by the celebrated Gronovius and is a plant of Lapland, lowly, insignificant, disregarded, flowering but for a brief space — after Linnaeus who resembles it.

He would go on, of course, to receive fanmail from Rousseau. Contemporary Goethe would later write: "With the exception of Shakespeare and Spinoza, I know no one among the no longer living who has influenced me more strongly."

Lowly Linnaeus himself chose borealis, for Boreas, the Greek god of the north wind; and indeed it grows where the north wind blows, in a great circumboreal ring around the globe, from semi-shaded woodlands in southern British Columbia (hello), to tundra and taiga in Sweden and Siberia. You can find the same blooms in China and Poland and Minnesota. It's as old as glaciers. In Poland and other European countries it is in fact protected as glacial relict, and you can find it isolated at high elevations far south of its range, where it was left behind in the Pleistocene.

And now it is Linnaea borealis.

When Linnaeus was ennobled twenty years later for his services to botany, zoology, and medicine, he put the twinflower on his coat of arms. Some references use hedging (pun intended) language to describe their relationship: he was 'reported to be fond'. It was 'rumoured to be a favourite.' Bullshit, I say. He was in love. Anyone can see it.

One final etymological point of interest: his surname is itself borrowed from nature. After enrolling in university, his father had to abandon his patronymic last name and create family name. A priest, he created the Latinate Linnæus after linden - the great tree that grew on the family homestead.

And so from Latin and nature sprung the name, and not a generation later, unto Latin and nature it had returned. A name crafted of whole cloth in homage an enormous tree now describes the genus of a plant that tops out at three inches tall and has flowers smaller than your thumbnail.

In spite of this, its uses are myriad. A common name of twinflower in Norwegian, nårislegras, translates to corpse rash grass, for its use in treating skin conditions. It can be made into a tea to take in pregnancy or provide relief of menstrual cramps. Scandinavian folk medicines use it for rheumatism. Humans have made it into teas, tinctures, decoctions, poultices, and even administered its therapeutic properties via smoke inhalation. And then there is its persistent and widespread use in filling our hearts: lending itself century over century and season over season to mankind, to a coat of arms, a poem, a photo, a fond memory—

Ralph Waldo Emerson, in Woodnotes I, says this of twinflower and the man it's named for:

He saw beneath dim aisles, in odorous beds, The slight Linnaea hang its twin-born heads, And blessed the monument of the man of flowers, Which breathes his sweet fame through the northern bowers.

Art is subjective, but I will happily admit I prefer this passage, from Robert of Isle Royale, on the website Minnesota Wildflowers:

My wife and I encountered Linnaea borealis in the last week of June 38 years ago on Isle Royale. We now live in Vilas County in northern Wisconsin and were happy to find a large patch of Twinflowers growing under the sugar maples, balsam fir and hemlock on our property there. This is now very special to us and we await their flowering each June around our anniversary.

A final note. Twinflower requires genetically different individuals to set seed and reproduce sexually. This is known as self-incompatibility. Thus the plants in those isolated spots - old glacial hideouts, or places with fragmented plant populations like Scotland - only reproduce clonally. Let us end with imagining a plant that has not reproduced with another for millennia, but instead carries its line on its own back, and survives by creating itself over and over again, in a genetically identical colony that grows with wet summers and shrinks with dry ones; that briefly blooms every June, lifting its flowers high above itself, a hundred tiny beacons that will be answered only by its own voice; and there, too far for pollination, but a distance you or I could travel in minutes, is its nearest partner, doing the same thing, across an impossible void that looks to us as nothing more than a gap between one part of the woods and the next. Yet it is L. borealis, named for a man named for a tree, that is capable of looking out across generations of humankind walking fragmented pine woodlands and the ghostly southern border of the Laurentide ice sheet, and seeing nothing more than the gap between one seed-set and the next.

Let us end with imagining a tiny plant, and ourselves beside it, loving it for hundreds of years, even smaller.

#asks #botany #plants #twinflower #Linnaea borealis #an essay #that i have put my whole heart into #read it?#or don't but go sit in nature for a bit #and marvel at it all til ur chest hurts with love #that's the takeaway i'm going for here anyway #about me #outside the cabin #my writing

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specialmouse · 4 months

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lgbt people need to stop thinking in terms of black and white and by that i mean stop thinking our oppression as directly analogous to the oppression of black people by white people it's not the same !

#fuck dave chapelle hope he dies broke and alone . that being said. i think this line of thinking is the reason why black and other nonwhite #people associate transness specifically with whiteness #part of the reason why anyway. because when we're trying to make direct parallels between something that is not institutional and something #that has been for hundreds of years and is ingrained into basically every facet of culture (transphobia vs antiblackness tbc)#then youre going to have cis(het) black and nonwhite people be like oh these people have no idea what theyre talking about #it's real oppression but talk about it on its own terms...#this isn't to say the two can't intersect OFC THEY DO they do very hard and very violently #i think that we pull from black liberation politics and language in the west particularly in the usa because when we say civil rights that'#the struggle we think of . The Struggle. so we try to pull from that history and current battle. and while parallels absolutely can be #formed esp because so much of lgbt history and liberation in the west is propelled by the work of black and brown trans women..#as white lgbts we need to be able to talk about our struggle in context with that without pulling unnecessary and unapplicable takeaways #from a distinct intersectional struggle that we don't face. does that make sense.#to be clear again the reason dave chapelle thinks transness is a white construct also has to do with just plain ole transmisogyny. i'm not #placing the blame entirely or even mostly on us here that would be ridiculous

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ontargetmadders · 18 days

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It's been 4 days since it ended now but i'm still emotional about saturday night takeaway ending and I just can't get over it yet... and one thing that I can't stop thinking about is how every time they started the show they always welcomed us by saying welcome to YOUR saturday night takeaway even tho their names are literally in the show's title. And honestly the show really was a massive comfort for me at times. There were countless times I'd had a shitty day/week and just watching it on a saturday night lifted my mood so much and made me forget about my problems for 90 minutes. It was just something always guaranteed to put a smile on my face and make me laugh no matter how bad things were. So I'm just a bit heart broken that I may never get that feeling again when i need it 😔💔

#also i remeber reading a comment about it on social media one day #and it said the show is literally just two best friends having fun and sharing it with us #and honestly i think that's the perfect way to describe the show #and i loved when the boys said it's the kind of show they enjoyed watching growing up #cause they are literally just doing their best to entertain and make us all happy #which is why i can feel a little selfish for wanting them to continue the show when they clearly need the break #and then that also reminds of the time ant went through his personal problems #a lot of people weren't very sympathetic towards him and yes he made a big mistake #but i was always supportive because i believe in 2nd chances #and especially when it involves mental health which is something i've always struggled with most of my life #so i saw it as a way to return the favour for the all the times ant (and dec of course) have made the world a little brighter for me #anyway i'm going on a lot here #but i need to say all this to express just how much i love them and to process the fact that a show #that has given me so much joy could be over forever #ant and dec #saturday night takeaway

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unproduciblesmackdown · 11 months

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as ever like: no two things Need to be juxtaposed, much less like material vs material deathmatch Only One Can Be Good, much less am i thinking i have thee objective word on fuckall b/c who does and it's like perfectly boring & unserious whenever someone just throws out Takes that are just "i think...[xyz] is [adjective]" like okay.

but anyways thinking of how, though differing in execution in a lot of ways ofc, deh & bmc start out in a v similar place & explore a journey to self-acceptance from a despairing starting point....it feels like a lot of the hindrance in deh's exploration of its own Theme there is in like, hey. :) hand on your shoulder. it's okay b/c you'll be able to be more normal. whereas w/bmc it's that it's okay b/c you'll be able to be more abnormal

#like hell yeah. and Normality is fake the way that things like Gender is fake so. what's more universally relevant here #versus like. the idea that a winning takeaway re: deh is Talking With Your Parents / Kid like #yeah that could be an improvement? in other situations; that Talking is dangerous &/or just not going to happen / be irrelevant #meanwhile nobody is ''normal'' & the idea of Normality & its Moral Goodness / Requirement does affect everyone #meanwhile that bmc is clear on jeremy's gaining supportive relationships means support for his relationship w/himself #whilest he's also able to feel better insulated from feeling Defined by whatever instance of feedback/input #whereas with deh it's like. All These People....but log off & all you need is at least one parent who doesn't hate you No Matter What #including your unfortunate abnormality....Just(tm) make the phone calls am i right? well now he at least has a part time job #meanwhile difficult to compare w/e's going on w/zoe/evan vs mpdg4mpdg jeremy/christine. latter are cute & a coherent relationship #former are [nothing] to [i'm taking psychic damage] & fuck if i know what's going on besides The Ultimate Romance(tm) (negative)#he was a boy she was a girl they could politely tolerate each other's presence. maybe forever :')#i really don't know what's supposed to be going on there so like. for real share Any reasons you like each other in Either love song abt it #anyways like No Need To Compare but for me the juxtaposition is natural b/c it Does feel like they can be looked at re: a v similar Essence #but one is fumbling around w/it & really Not sticking the landing especially while the other just does exactly what it's trying to do #and ofc it could only help that deh had to go so far from the original [???] ideas & more Farcical approach #vs i don't think bmc's envisioning ever changed so fundamentally along its development at any point #like deh's story does feel like it still has the remnants of the earlier farcier versions even in its bway form #story of A Bunch Of Wild Shit Happens To Our Protag Whaaat & sure ppl are humanized but you still never made room for like a quarter of the #alana & jared? they're alright but they died #anyways & in all these things it's like It's Not A Big Deal lol i am not here to strive to have thee true & final word #right tf on if you as well know them both & like deh more / think It was the more successful execution of its story #though i have natural enemies like say [trt loyalists who are Like That] or forever [deh haters who are Like That]....we're different #erased a tangent also mentioning how i like the Parent Approach of mr. heere's arc better than any parents in deh lol. like of course #it's Not about his Feelings or being Imperfect or Human. like ofc he has the feelings & is human & imperfect #but he just gets energized & focused like welp bummer but ofc i gotta give my kid more support w/whatever he's going through rn #like hell yeah. one fun song we're good to go #bmc #deh

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causticsunshine · 1 year

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if he’s gonna claim to be a man of the people, indie artist, he needs to do better. imma need him to be more vocally progressive than this bullshit.

hiii anon i'm going to reply to you and some other anons i got on this topic as well, just because this has now turned into a Discussion and it seems people may be taking my initial annoyance at any potential interest louis may have in AI—and whatever direction that potential interest may go, but that is hopefully largely anti AI in regards to how it's largely being used rn—as possibly misdirected due to the space he was in being titled 'Is AI the end of humanity?' (+ comparing two differently functioning AI engines)

but i want to reply to you first, and say: yes!! it just doesn't make sense to me how someone who preaches artistic integrity, being true to yourself and your work, yk, that the Big Boss Man Indie Artist himself, could have any vested interest in tools that are used to literally steal art for profit, unless it was to try and find a way to make these tools obsolete!

now, to the other anons i got, which had to say this:

(my reply to these inquiries btw will likely give more support to my reply to our original anon on this post as well! also put it behind a cut because i get a bit wordy soz)

as the space was over before i even saw the post—or i at least couldn't access it, simply couldn't find it, etc.—i couldn't listen in and find out what exactly the discussion was deducing. while it would seem by the first half of the space's title that they were just talking about potential pros and cons to AI usage, the subtitle of the space, putting musty elon's AI machine up against ChatGPT, made/makes me a bit more apprehensive of how the subject of AI was being discussed.

(unless, of course, the goal was still to discuss the differences between two different AI tools, as well as their individual pros and cons and how both may end up relating to the first part of the space's title: is AI the end for us?

because i think it is really important for us to discuss the ways we can use different forms of AI to help us, as well as the ways we can use it to hurt us.)

while i definitely appreciate the anon in the first screencap for pointing out that while AI (as it's being used most currently) in general is still very much bullshit, that ChatGPT does have potential to be helpful as a writing aid and did offer them help in school, i'm still apprehensive of how it was being discussed in the space, and what pros and cons were possibly being touched on. especially if this was louis', or really anyone else's, primary education source.

(also while i do know at its core what ChatGPT is, i haven't personally used it, so i can't vouch for its overall efficiency or even it's morality as a writing AI tool!)

i say this because i personally already have a fundamental issue with AI tools 9.8 times out of 10, because of how these current big AI tools work, are being marketed and used, and what purpose they truly end up serving in the end, which is: to data mine and steal from artists/creatives/people putting their work up on the public internet to turn a profit without doing any of the actual work!

plus, as someone who actively draws and writes, puts their work out on the internet for consumption, and who's been trying to do freelancing for years—as well as someone who has also had their work stolen on more than one occasion before! without the help of machines!—i know firsthand how much most artists are underpaid and how much our professions and accomplishments are belittled, all while being demanded to work constantly for people to largely enjoy our content for free.

so tldr: even if louis was in that space just to hear about the dangers of AI, or how one system may be better/worse than another, the pros and cons of both, what have you, i don't really think you can blame anyone for being nervous of him having any vested interest in the subject due to how he approached NFTs, and i say this because there's a lot of crossover between people who utilize(d) NFTs for capital gains, and people who use AI for the same reason, as well as people who are trying to market AI as they did NFTs: as a business model rather than huge source of creative theft (and in some cases, data mining too!)

i will say though, in argument to AI, that at LEAST AI art theft machines can/could be altered and thus used as a tool to help the communities and people they're currently stealing from, such as being used to help create art references, alter your own works in a new method of editing or bolstering your end product, even protecting from art theft (which i believe a university tech team somewhere in the US is actually working on rn!)

if louis were to clarify that he's wholly against the misuse of AI as a pocket-lining theft module, i'd gladly redact my earlier statement and proudly thank him for educating himself on the matter and speaking up against it! like, i'd genuinely love that! but, because of how much crossover exists between AI and NFT users and how he initially approached NFTs in a pro-model sort of way (from what we were able to see), it makes me honestly exasperated to see him engage at all in discussion on AI, without true clarification on how that discussion is being put across.

especially seeing as how much he promotes originality and being proud of one's own work and ideas.

#soz i switched the desktop so i could type easier and now tumblr won't let me edit my draft from mobile so i had to start #all over again so sorry for making you all wait for a reply :(#also kinda copied what i said on twitter over here as well bc i think i nailed the point home better there than i did in my #original reply here?#anyway i'm done discussing it like ik he's not gonna clarify what he was doing or his takeaway so i'm just gonna #drop the subject move on and we'll see what happens #as i have to go to bed very soon too i just want to say if i get any more replies on this in the morning #specifically replies that are aggressive or confrontational etc etc i will be deleting because #i think this conversation has already been drawn out enough and i don't think it's ultimately worth the energy being put forth #anyway i'm sending these anons and the rest of you good vibes and let's focus on something nicer now #anon #answered #discourse #< just because this is very wordy and mildly argumentative

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lcvclywon · 7 days

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in sickness and in health

back to masterlist

synopsis After a long fight with Jay you find yourself giving him the silent treatment. Leaving you curled up alone sick in your room, with your only comfort being the instant tteokbokki you had microwaved for yourself earlier. However it seems Jay knew where to be and what to say at exactly the right times.

warnings: mentions of food, mentions of sickness, mentions of kissing, pet names (honey), slight angst, I made YN as the 6th member of lesserafim so that the whole same building thing made sense so...js roll with it pls 😁, also not proof read!, slight fighting

genre ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt to comfort

pairings: idol!jay x idol!reader, established relationship

wc ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ around 1.14k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 i know i said i was gonna go on a hiatus but i needed a serotonin boost from writing after doing a horrendous maths paper.... so semi hiatus i guess ^^ anywaysss this drabble has been rotting in the back of my mind for a while soo here u are, i'm a huge huge HUGE sucker for hurt to comfort tropes so >,<

A week. It had been a week since you and Jay had a massive argument causing the two of you to give each other the silent treatment for god knows how long. However, as if the world was out to get you, the next morning after the fight you had been plagued with a sickness that you couldn’t quite pin down, all you knew was it left you bedridden until Friday.

Due to said sickness, you obviously couldn’t join your group for schedules and barely entered the building for dance practice. You hoped Jay would at least notice your absence, send a message asking where you were or something. But to your dismay, radio silence.

“Who cares about some stupid guy anyways…” Grumbling under your breath you reached for your chopsticks to skewer another rice cake from your measly plate of instant tteokbokki and shovel it down your throat. Maybe excessive spice you couldn’t handle and soft pillowy rice cakes could solve all your problems.

Ding dong! Weird, you didn’t think the members would be back this early?

Begrudgingly ripping the covers off and placing your bowl back on your table, you went to the door. Hair still an oily mess from not showering properly and clothes stuck to your body from sweat, you clearly weren’t in pristine condition to be meeting anyone. Please don’t be a delivery man, please don’t be a delivery man.

However, after opening the door, you found yourself standing in front of the one person you’d been longing for the whole week. Park Jongseong. Your gaze softened slightly and a small smile crept onto your lips, but then you remembered that you were still mad at him. Fighting the urge to embrace him and cry out for his name, you plastered on a stoic expression of indifference.

“What are you doing here.”

“Chaewon told me you were sick,” he said before entering into your dorm, not bothering to wait for you to let him in.

Making his way over to the kitchen he placed a white takeaway bag onto the counter before emptying its contents onto the table: a warm bowl of your favourite porridge and a cup of tea from your favourite cafe.

“What’s this?” positioning yourself in front of Jay, you scanned the table to see the numerous small boxes of side dishes sprawled across.

“Porridge, it’s good for you when you’re sick.” he replied before shooting his head over to the remnants of your tteokbokki “Honey why are you eating tteokbokki, you’re sick you shouldn’t be eating instant food.” he scolded before reaching over throw your lukewarm leftovers in the trash.

“It’s not that bad…” you mumbled whilst picking at the side dishes “And why do you suddenly care, thought you weren’t talking to me” Scoffing you shot him a dirty glare.

“Correction, you weren’t talking to me; I thought you needed some space, as you usually do after a fight.” well he wasn’t wrong, you did express to him that after arguments you wanted some time to cool down by yourself, “and also, I’m not ‘suddenly’ just caring YN. Who do you think Yunjin got all those drinks, medicines, and snacks from.”

Oh… so she didn’t buy them herself. Your gaze reached his eyes as you felt your heart soften slightly, “Okay, well you could’ve sent me a text or something. You could’ve come here and given it to me yourself, why today out of all days do you decide to come huh?” meeting your glossy eyes, Jay could tell how hurt you were over his actions. He couldn’t deny that it pained him to see you this upset.

“Okay look, I’m sorry. I wanted to come over, but Sakura said whatever you caught was contagious and that you isolated yourself to make sure you got nobody else sick. As I mentioned earlier, you told me you liked to have time to cool down after fighting, but it was stupid of me not to even try to text you. Today it all just-” Jay stopped his rambling, catching his breath before sighing out, “I just really missed you YN”

That was all the confirmation you needed to run into his arms and hug him so tight he didn’t even think about leaving again. Jay was quick to reciprocate, arms wrapping around you to engulf you into his warm embrace, head buried into the crook of your neck whispering sweet nothings.

Breaking away from the embrace and tilting your head up you were graced with a warm and familiar smile painted across Jay’s face; a smile you so badly missed the entire week.

“Don’t ever do that again.” you said with a pout

“Promise I won't honey,” his hands reached to cup your face before adding, “Only if you promise to stop eating that stuff when you’re sick.”

“Hey, it’s yummy! I can’t help it that I can’t cook soup or anything, tteokbokki has never failed me.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep bringing you food then.” he replied with a smirk

“Well, I could use a personal delivery man.” giggling you reached up to mirror his actions, cupping his face with your warm hands.

“Oh really, would a delivery man do this?” and with that he pressed a playful peck onto your lips; soft and gentle, something you missed dearly.

“Jay!” you exclaimed, “You can’t do that, you’ll get sick!”

“So. What.” he said between pecks, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled and placed your hands on his chest to try and push him away. Pulling away he looked into your eyes with a warm and gentle gaze, smiling softly before leaning in to give you a proper kiss. Feeling the worry of your sickness transferring to him vanish, you melted into the kiss whilst wrapping your arms around his neck. In response, his hand found its way to the small of your back while the other reached up to cup the back of your neck. It always astonished you how easily he could pull you into his orbit, almost made you forget about the soreness of your body and the fever plaguing you.

Retreating back he giggled at your pouting face. “I’d love to continue, but I wouldn’t want the food I bought you to get cold” intertwining your fingers with his, he led you over to a chair before sitting you down. “Let’s eat okay?” he muttered before taking his spot right next to yours, hand still intertwined with your fingers. His other hand however reached over to spoon you some porridge, moving the utensil closer to your mouth.

You happily bent forward to enjoy the bite he crafted for you, an all too familiar sensation bubbling up within you—a warmth you could only describe as, home. Jay felt like home. And you hoped he would for the rest of your lives.

perm taglist ♡ (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang

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moonstruckme · 23 days

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May I please please with sprinkles and a cherry on top request, more protective! Sirius with reader who gets scared or startled easily?(maybe a hufflepuff reader?) Like I'm scaredy cat, I just want him to make the scary go away! Literally anything your beautiful brain thinks up will be amazing as always

Thanks for requesting lovely!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 635 words

Sometimes walking at night can’t be avoided, but you don’t love it. Every shadow, every passerby who drifts too close, every bird taking off from a nearby perch, makes your heart race and the hairs on your neck and arms stick straight up like an army of useless soldiers standing at attention. A few blocks ago someone had swung open a gate, and you’d jumped into the street.

You’re telling yourself you’re already halfway home, only a small ways to go, when—

“Stop there!”

Your entire body seizes up, and before you know what you’re doing you’ve hopped around on the spot, turning to face the threat with your hands held out in front of you as if to shove them away.

Sirius only continues walking toward you from a good few meters down the sidewalk, one dark eyebrow raising amusedly.

“Well, I was going to tell you off for walking by yourself at night,” he says, “but with reflexes like those it’s clear I’ve wasted my time. You’ve got it handled.”

“Oh my god.” You cross the distance to him, giving your boyfriend a very heartfelt and somewhat desperate hug. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Sirius bands an arm across your shoulders and palms the back of your head. He strokes your hair comfortingly. “See, that wouldn’t ordinarily be such an insane request, but I’ve found with you it’s actually quite difficult to avoid.” He presses his lips to the crown of your head, his teasing inlaid with fondness. “What do you think you’re doing walking around by yourself in the dark, hm?”

You get the sense you’ve saved yourself from a much sterner tongue lashing by your fright at his arrival. You push this small advantage, pressing snugly to Sirius’ front and looking up at him with your best bambi eyes. “I’m just trying to get home,” you say. Your boyfriend looks like he knows what you’re about, but he smooths the baby hairs at your temple consolingly anyway. “Dinner at Marie’s ran long, and I didn’t want to spend money on a cab fare or anything like that.”

“That’s what I’m for, darling.” Sirius squints his eyes at you. They glint in the low light, more playful than mean. “You’re supposed to call me when these things happen, not try your luck and hope for the best. Understand?”

“Yeah, sorry.” You relent easily, more than happy to have him as an escort and as exceptional company. Sirius lets you go, starting in the direction of your place. “How’d you know I was here anyway?”

“Saw you from inside the takeaway place a couple blocks back.” He casts a glance your way, mouth kicking up at one corner. “You looked like someone’s pet rabbit that had gotten loose. You’re definitely going to attract the wrong sort if you’re walking around looking all scared like that.”

You laugh. “I don’t think I could have looked that bad.”

“Oh, you’ve never looked bad. Just a tad flighty.”

Sirius sets a sure hand on the small of your back and grins when you jolt. You loose a breath, shaking your head at yourself as a dizzy little giggle spurts out of you.

“God, sorry.”

“Who else was it going to be, sweetness?” he teases, sliding that hand to your waist and using it to tug you closer, into a rough sort of half hug. “You need to ease up. I’ve got you.”

You lean into his side, doing an exceptionally poor job of feigning any reluctance. “And what’s going to stop someone from mugging the both of us?”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that at all.” Sirius gives your waist an affectionate squeeze. “You’re quick as anything, baby. If someone comes for us, I know you’ll be out of here before I can even turn around.”

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junkdyke · 7 months

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That Time I Hooked Up With A Tumblr Mutual

Ok. Let me start by saying this is not a callout post, and this should be read as a humorous story, with some takeaway lessons at the end. Please enjoy my story of my weird ass encounter with a Tumblr mutual.

Part 1: The Backstory

Alight so boom. I had just returned home from a trip where I met a different Tumblr mutual. That trip was great but didn't end up going to plan, so long story short, ya girl was horny. I had never really had a one-night-stand or sought out a solely sexual hookup, so I started thinking maybe I could try it out, see how I like it. And through the sheer power of manifestation, that opportunity presented itself.

I was scrolling Tumblr and one of my mutuals posted asking if anyone was in (my area) and wanted to hang out. Mind you, I have never spoken to this mutual before. No DMs, maybe like 1 or 2 comments through tags and that's it. But, most of my moots are far as fuck, so when I saw she was near me I was like oh ayo, I'm free! Why not, I had nothing else going on! So I reply, and she DMs me.

So she introduces herself, we'll call her Chicle for reasons I'll get to later in the story lmao. Anyway, she gushes a little bit, saying she's been too shy to DM me and that I'm a really cool tattoo artist mutual, I say she's cute and seems cool, and she asks if I've ever been to this particular mall. I say I have and if she wants to cruise the mall with me. She says yeah I'd love to cruise the mall and "if I like her vibe, then maybe we can do something more fun." I say I'm down, she gives me her number.

So here is what I'm envisioning. We'll meet up at the mall, walk around and talk, get to know each other, have some laughs, get a snack, it was a Friday so maybe we could go out to like a bar or go dancing, and then maybe after that, possibly make-out or even have sex! I am not opposed to having sex after a first date if I'm really vibing with the person and if we've been talking for a bit before. Girls, this is not what happened.

Part 2: The Meeting

I get ready, and I drive to the mall. I park, we text on where to meetup and I head over to the Gamestop. I see her at the counter, go up and I'm like "are you buying Pokemon cards?" She starts laughing, she says "I didn't want you to see this!" I'm laughing, I told her it's cute, she finishes paying and we walk around. Cute start and thennnn it all starts to go downhill from here.

As we are walking out of the Gamestop, a minute and thirty seconds into meeting this stranger, she wraps her arm, not around my waist...but around my ass. And pulls me close. I'm instantly uncomfortable by how close this gesture is. She starts cooing in my ear about how she's "so glad I'm not a catfish" and "if I like her vibe because she really likes mine". We met not even 5 minutes ago, I have not had time to evaluate any vibes! But anyway! She asks if she wants smoke 🍃 so I agree, and we go outside, right across from where we just were.

I get to take like 1 hit from this pen, she then steps close to me and says "I'm so glad you're real" kisses me and squeezes my ass. I again feel the need to emphasize that at this point, it has still been less than 5 minutes since we've met, and we have exchanged about 10 messages only a couple hours prior. This is a stranger to me. ANYWAY.

We go back inside, she asks if I wanna walk around, I agree. We chat for a short bit of time, before we go to the food court. I wasn't hungry, so she got some food and we sat and talked. I had made some mention about my past and she wanted to know more so I'm like "okay, I'll give you my lore while you eat" so I basically tell Chicle my life story. Afterwards, we go to walk around more and I start trying to ask her questions so I can get to know her more. It becomes very apparent that she is not interested in getting to know each other lmao. I ask what she does for work, and what she's interested in, and she tells me she's interested in getting into (something animation related) and i'm like "oh ayo, that aligns with what I do" and start trying to get more info cause i'm curious, annd I get just the shortest fucking answers. Ok.

She ends up making a comment about how I'm probably more experienced than her, and I'm like "oh really? Well how many people have you been with?" and Chicle asks "are we counting online?" Now, there is nothing necessarily wrong with this...but it does become more clear on just how "online" this person is. Anyway, she has only been with a few people, never had a partner. It becomes very clear as to why she may have never had a partner.

Part 3: Inappropriate Behavior

We are walking around the mall, stopping in a few stores to look at stuff. Chicle is walking next to me and I am still trying to invoke conversation. But Chicle is not interested in conversation, because instead, she is deliberately and blatantly staring directly at my tits. What I mean is, mid-walking, she is at my side, craning her head to the side to make it incredibly clear that that is what she is doing. I straight up ask "are you...staring at my tits?" she confirms as such, and says something about her being a dog. The dog thing will come up again.

Chicle is at different points, holding me, kissing me, and saying various suggestive things. She grabs me and whispers in my ear "do you want to go back to my room" and I nervous laugh and say "uhhh, we'll see!" At another point, she says "you're so small, you want me to manhandle you and throw you around?" and I again nervous laugh. We're like in Hot Topic, and she start trying to makeout with me and grabbing my ass and says "you're making me so hard"(we'll put a pin in that) and I push her away and say "not in public". I can do a little PDA but this is a lot, and at this point I have known her for about 40 minutes, maybe an hour.

Continuing on, as we're walking through this crowded mall, she drapes her arm over my shoulder and starts grabbing my boob and trying to pinch my nipples, which I immediately pull away from and again say "not in public". Chicle again says "do you wanna get out of here and go back to my room" and I'm questioning what exactly she means, because the phrasing is a little weird. "what do you mean 'your room'?" and she says "I have a hotel room" so I'm a little confused cause I thought she lived in the area. She does.

"i got us a room"

Ya'll, this bitch preemptively booked a MOTEL ROOM without even asking me.

At this point, she has asked multiple times and each time I nervous laughed and said "haha maybe, we'll see, ehhh we'll see" To any normal person, my body language was extremely clear that I was uncomfortable. And again this is not a callout post, she is not a bad person, and everything that ultimately happened, I did consent to. But I will not sugarcoat the fact that this behavior was definitely inappropriate harassment, and there was absolutely some pressuring with the continuous asking. But as I mulled it over, there were 2 reasons I ultimately decided to agree and meet her at that motel.

I was craving intimacy

I had never done something like this before so..fuck it, let's do it for the plot.

And so, she gave me the address, we got in our respective cars, and we met at the motel.

Part 4: The Motel

We go to the room, put our stuff down, and I go to use the restroom. I'm thinking "oh shit, this is weird but alright, let's see what happens"

I come out of the restroom, wash my hands, and she comes over and we start kissing. Already it's fucking weird because the way she is kissing me is so goddamn fast, it's like someone inhaling a meal because they think it's gonna run away from them. Now idk about ya'll, but I like a slow, deep kiss. So already it's a mismatch, but whatever. She lifts me onto the sink, despite the weird kissing, it's hot. She has some really minty gum in her mouth, hence the name Chicle. Put a pin in that.

After a bit, we go to the bed, and I keep saying "how did you get me here" because honestly, I'm not fully comfortable, it's just a weird situation for me and I'm surprised I agree to it. But agree to it I did, so we get on the bed, and keep going. Now, even though she does not have much experience, she's not bad! But...I can tell there's certain things she's doing that I've seen. Or rather, read. Whew lad.

As we're getting into it, my clothes are coming off, she's saying "You're my favorite Tumblr mutual. I can't believe this is what my favorite Tumblr mutual is into." I don't even really know what to say to this because quite frankly, mentioning social media in bed in any capacity is kinda fucking cringe. But it just gets worse.

So, she's spitting on my pussy. And I, personally, have a strong aversion to spit. It's something that I tell anyone that is a potential sexual partner, but it this case, we obviously did not have a prior talk about our sexual boundaries. In this case, I'm like "okay whatever as long as it's just there" but I quickly say "hey uh, just please don't do that in my mouth or i'll throw up" lmao. She's like "Oh okay sorry sorry". But then at some point, without warning she smacks the FUCK out of my pussy, and I'm so taken aback I immediately say "UH DON'T DO THAT" and she again apologizes and says

"Oh sorry, you know I had to try that one. Like that Tumblr post, you know the one."

Ya'll, everything this bitch is doing, she is referencing posts from Tumblr. She is referencing the sexy fantasy butch/femme text posts from Tumblr and she is referencing them out loud. In the middle of real life sex.

She goes on to reference more posts, and the worst part is I know exactly the one's she's talking about. "Mutuals to lezz out with" etc etc, it's so fucking cringe, and she tells me about how she started wearing more of a certain article of clothing after I reblogged a picture of her in it and how embarrassed she is to admit that (I thought that was kinda cute actually) anyway

She's still going way too fast with like all her movements, I tell her to slow down and relax and I think at this point I mention how she did not have to do all that PDA shit from before. She says "well you know, on my Tumblr I do say I'm a dog" and then uh, she starts barking. 💀 literally starts going "woof, woof" and I tell her to s t o p. Jesus fucking christ.

Anyway, after mentioning Tumblr and calling me her favorite Tumblr mutual way too many fucking times, I'm on top of her. Mind you, this whole time, I'm kinda in and out dissociating, just due to how not fully comfortable I am with this. But ya know, I'm still going for it. Her shirts off, she has really cute boobs, and then I notice a really fucking huge bulge in her pants. And I fully dissociate. Not gonna lie, I started feeling really panicky, because straight up, I was not prepared for this. Physically, I'm still touching her, but my mind is fully disconnected, and I'm thinking "oh fuck. When she said 'you're making me so hard' was she being literal? I don't know if I'm comfortable with this. Should I tell her I want to stop? But I don't wanna hurt her feelings. Should I just take it? Well no, I don't really want to...maybe I'll just say 'hey is it cool if I don't touch it?' I mean, she's cute so ehhhhh let's just see what happens!" SO. We continue on.

We flip and she's now on top of me. She references another fucking Tumblr post, and says "do you wanna suck on this lesbian cock?", unzips her pants and pulls out...this MASSIVE transparent strap on. And I'm like oh, it was fake LMAO. Then I say "...yeah, so that's not going in me"

She ends up taking it off, I don't even know how the fuck she hid it in her jeans that entire time, and we continue on. Around this point, I'm starting to feel pretty spent, she did some other things like opening up my pussy to stare at it and describe the color, whatever, I'm kinda done and I just wanna cuddle. So we cuddle for a bit and again, it's physically nice but it's just so weird because she is SUCH a stranger to me that I can't get fully comfortable. She starts trying to start up again and I'm just not really in the mood anymore. She keeps playing with my nipples and typically whenever I'm touched in a way I'm not digging, I'll just take their hand and move it away as a silent but pretty clear way to indicate "no". But uh, I had to do that like 4 times with her before I verbally say "hey, please stop" and her response is "why" 💀 like wdym "why" bitch, cause i said so. I'm kinda surprised by this response so I start to say "Uhhhh, it's...kinda specific" and she goes "oh okay, sorry sorry".

So, honestly, I kinda just wanna go home but I don't wanna be mean and just take off. But there's also no way in hell I'm sleeping over in this motel room. So, I suggest we go out and maybe go to a club or something and she's like "uh, no. I don't like going out" 💀 like damn, maybe you should spend less time on FUCKING TUMBLR AND TRY GOING OUT IRL but whatever, instead we just go get food and bring it back to the room.

Part 5: What Could Have Been

We got some burgers, and she wants to open the Pokemon cards. We do, that's fun and cute, and she asks if I wanna keep some of the stickers that came in one of the packs.

Then she tells me that she had went to the library and checked out a book on tattoos since "she knows I'm a tattoo artist, and thought we could flip through it together." And I genuinely think this is such a cute fucking gesture, I think it's really sweet, and it frustrates the fuck out of me because of what this could have been.

I told her that she did not have to do all the PDA, it was a lot and it was excessive. She is not apologetic about it, and says that the reason she was like that was because "she needed me to know what her intentions were and that this was not just a 'friendly' meeting." so I reiterate that she did not have to do ALL OF THAT just for me to know that. And she just insists that in the past, girls have treated her like just a "bestie" so she needed to get her point across. Now call me old fashioned, but you could have just verbally fucking communicated "hey, i'm really attracted to you" and I would have caught the fucking drift. But okay!!

She asks me if I have any knives because I guess femmes tend to have a knife collection. I say no. And she fucking pulls out this huge ass lethal switchblade thing and is like "this is mine!" and i'm like oh god, this is it, I'm gonna fucking die in this motel room. But she doesn't kill me, she just shows me the cool knife and then puts it away. I have known this person for like 4 hours.

So, we flip through the book, and it's funny and cute, but she keeps trying to kiss me and instigate, and i'm just not interested, I just wanna flip through the book and go the fuck home. And that's pretty much what happens, we finish, I'm like "aight, ima head out" but

before i do

we end up making out again and then I think she was helping me put my shoes on?? she's on her knees in front of me and...she asks me to spit in her mouth. Once again, I have a major aversion to spit and i really, truly, do not want to spit in her mouth. But she says please...so I do like a half assed spit and hope it's good enough. She asks me to try again....so I get an accumulation and spit in her mouth, and she swallows it and i am so so sad about it 😭 and I finish getting my shit and I go the FUCK HOME.

Now here is what frustrates me about all this. Physically? This girl is extremely my type. I like the way she dresses, she has really nice arms, she has a cute face, she's really fucking attractive. She's interested in getting into the animation industry, which I'm currently also working on getting into as well. We could have talked about that and really had a cool discussion on what kind of projects she wants to do and what style she works in. She likes video games, we could have talked more about what games we like. She got this tattoo book because she knows I'm a tattoo artist, and I think that's really fucking cute. There's so many non-sexual aspects that could have made this a real fucking date where I got to know this person, and feel comfortable, and then we could have had really great sex because straight up, the girl was good. She may have learned it from Tumblr, and some of it was weird, but for the most part? She was damn good, especially for only having limited experience. This could have turned into something real! But NO. Chicle, instead, wanted to grope my tits in front of families an hour into meeting me, and made no effort to really let me get to know her in any capacity whatsoever! And it's not like she wanted this to be just a one-night-stand, because she had told me she was looking for a gf and asked me what I was looking for!

It just could have been so much better than this weird ass situation. And after the fact, she texted me and I answered a couple times, but when the following morning she said something to the effect of "it felt so good having you on my lap" I just never answered. Because prior to this, there was absolutely no established relationship, friendship or otherwise. And I could not see anything moving forward, because we couldn't backtrack into the aforementioned "could have been". I considered communicating how I didn't actually feel super comfortable with how things went, but I ultimately just decided to not reply. Shitty on my part, but again, there was no prior anything. And we just never spoke again, we remained mutuals, and so I never talked about this because uh, obviously she would see it. But since she blocked me, heyho now you all get the story!

Part 6: Epilogue

Now, the reason I decided to call her Chicle (Spanish for Gum)

So, while the nice minty gum was a nice gesture, her spitting that gum juice all over my vagina resulted in me getting a yeast infection💀 No more hookups.

So what lessons did we learn!

It's important to talk about sexual boundaries before having sex with someone!

Internet fantasy is not real life! Don't just do shit because you read about it in a fucking internet post or saw it in porn! (Especially when that person doesn't even make those kinds of posts, i don't reblog most of those for a reason)

Don't chew gum before going down on someone

Communication overall is really important for setting up any foundation, even if it is just a one-night hookup!

(yes this is ok the RB cause I spent forever writing this and I do genuinely think it's a very funny story. Sometimes ya just gotta do things for the plot so you get a good story out of it. No regrets, and my pussy is all healed up lmao)

#decided to make this it's own post oops #wlw #lesbian dating #lesbian #storytime #dykeposting #mine #ok to rb

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taiyeoki · 4 months

Text

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘? | 𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐎

↳ Kashimo + Reader

Genre . Smut

Warning . 🔞Minors do not interact | Contains breeding/impregnation, face fucking, nipple play, fingering, cancelled orgasm

Synopsis . Kashimo doesn't always show vulnerable emotions but when a man comes around fancying you, his wife, that wall comes crashing down with the simplest jealousy. Now he just wants to fuck you till tomorrow. Maybe putting a baby in you will make sure you're his.

A/N . This was supposed to be finished way sooner but I got too caught up with some other work, causing me to sleep at 4-5am for weeks straight and it physically affected me so I got body ache and inflammation. Turns out I got covid. And then afterwards, which is currently, I'm focusing a lot on art lmao.

You had no plans today but to lay around on the couch all day long. Kashimo didn't mind since he's used to the woman staying at home during his time period anyway. The only difference now though is that you weren't even doing any chores. He never forced you to do them though, but seeing you sprawled out on the couch with a bag of chips next to you had him pushing you to get up.

Which is why you were here now, going into stores around the city. No way is Kashimo Hajime going to let his wife laze around all day. He cared about his wife's wellbeing and he knew the negative effects of being cooped up at home. However, this time he wasn't one bit pleased at all. He just regrets taking you out in the first place.

Your husband held a scowl on his face. He always looked fierce to begin with but this was different. You could feel his stare boring holes into the back of your head.

Going to the counter to order takeaways, the cashier held a rather innocent looking expression. The bright smile and friendly service wasn't fooling Kashimo though. He knew the cash register's true intentions weren't just to serve you.

"That'll be $15.70 ma'am," the man's smile widened in an attempt to be 'friendly'. It felt so disgustingly fake to your husband though. You replied with a polite "thank you," as you took your food, smiling in return but Kashimo saw how he purposely brushed his hand onto yours when serving you your order. He knew that you were too kind for your own good so it wasn't your fault for reciprocating the polite gesture but it pissed him off how anyone would try to fancy his wife.

Unfortunately for him, the cashier initiated a little conversation with you.

"I hope you enjoy your food. You've got great taste based on what you ordered. As expected from a woman such as yourself," his eyes darkened with intent staring at your frame, the smile he held wasn't going to fool Kashimo though.

"Do you come here often? I would love to help serve you again," his tongue darts out to lick his lips, almost as if he's moistening his lips to prolong more conversation.

"Oh, thank you. I guess I'm starting to become a usual customer here huh?" Chuckling, you replied noticing that you do come here more often than you think, appreciative of his kind offer.

"Great! That gives me even more reason to come to work," he laughs a bit at his joke but keeps his eyes on you. It was even more apparent now that he's leaning closer to you, close enough that he could take in your sweet scent which was supposed to be reserved for Kashimo only.

"Aren't you here to do your job? Or are you being paid to flirt with customers?" A smooth, velvety voice cuts in. Kashimo swiftly moves in front of you before you can pay for the food. He wasn't going to let this man touch you a second time, dropping the cash on the cashier's hands without even an inch of being near him so he wouldn't have to touch this 'thing'.

"T-thank you. You must be—"

"Her husband," Kashimo scoffed, a smug smile tugged on his lips handsomely. His agile movements snaked his arms around your waist, wrapping you right next to him to show who exactly you belong to.

Kashimo's presence only made the man look smaller than he was with your husband's dominating height towering over him. At least he wasn't dumb knowing how much more muscular your husband is compared to the guy working behind the counter trying to flirt with a married woman. His eyes zero in on Kashimo's strong hold on the small of your back and it was clear how possessive he got. You aren't bothered, leaning into Kashimo to envelope yourself in his comforting scent. The sight only made the man nervous with fear. He knew you were taken seeing from the beautiful blue ring that decorated your soft finger, both you and Kashimo having matching rings. Just by the looks of it he could tell how expensive it must've been and yet he still had the confidence to try and sway you— right in front of your husband too, who surely made more money than him with his part-time cashier job.

"Come on hun, let's go," Kashimo glances softly at you and his tone is gentle. Much different compared to this stranger who's just grateful that your husband decided to stay civil for the sake of his wife. He wears the look of horror when Kashimo turns around to face him once more.

"We'll be leaving now. I wouldn't expect a guy like you to be keeping their job for long if this is how you work."

Arriving home only meant that you had to deal with the little ordeal that happened, inquiring Kashimo about it. "What was that about? You didn't have to be rude you know."

Your beloved husband only scoffed when you reminded him of what happened. Seeing the sour expression on his face told you how annoyed he was, plus the deep scowl on his lips presented how pissed he was too. He pushes you against the kitchen counter, caging you between his strong arms as his lips latch onto your neck, kissing aggressively. You whine softly from how rough he's being, sucking on your supple skin creating hickeys everywhere while your fingers intertwine with his cyan locks. Your breaths are labored, he knows your body better than you do. He knows your sweet spots and your favourite positions, how you like it done and the perfect pace to do it.

Letting go, his saliva connects to your now bruised skin and he admires it.

"Pretty little mark. Should give you more don't you think?"

"Hajime, were you jealous?" You teased, giggling but your smirk is taken away when you feel his rough hand unclasp your bra, the other pulling your shirt up right above your breasts. Your sensitive skin exposed to the cold air causes your nipples to harden more than it needs to. Seeing this has blood rushing down to his cock as he flicks and tugs on your erect nipple, twisting it with the perfect pressure of his thumb and playing with your tits. Your head tips back with a moan, holding onto the kitchen counter for support while your husband ravages your body as he please.

Suddenly you feel his hot breath against your sensitive mounds. His lips wrap around your hardened nipple, sucking sensually producing lewd sounds from the wetness of your skin. His right hand continues to give attention to your left breast while he sucks on the other. You could feel Kashimo's calloused hand massaging your chest, the roughness of his thumb causing more friction against you as he twists and presses your nipple. God— his hands are too good. The man is skilled in pleasing you, he knows the perfect amount of pressure needed to have you over the edge.

Kashimo's free hand pushes your panties down, rubbing your already wet folds to get you prepped. He pushes a prodding finger against your walls, curling his finger just enough to hit the right spot. The sensation of his long finger abusing your sweet spot while his thumb circles your clit has you instinctively opening your legs further for more. Both his hands working you and his mouth sucking and lapping on your erect mounds already has you feeling like you're about to explode.

Your thighs shook in excitement as Kashimo's fingers slid inside of your already drenched cunt, and you moaned loudly, fingers scraping on the table under you with how your body is attacked by all this pleasure. Kashimo could feel your walls tighten around his digits. He knew whenever you needed to cum but as cruel as he is, Kashimo removes himself from your pussy, walls aching to release the familiar buildup in your abdomen.

You whined from the loss of sensation, feeling empty without him. "Hajime, why'd you st—"

He cuts you off, putting his pussy drenched finger inside of your mouth. "Lick it clean," His smooth, husky voice demanded. You couldn't deny how that turned you on more, sucking and lapping on your own juices off of his finger, making erotic sounds from it.

"There you go, see? Not so hard being a good little slut now right?"

He was enjoying the sight of your pretty lips wrapping his fingers, tasting yourself from it. Now his head was full of perverted thoughts on how you would look if you had your lips wrap his dick instead. If he had you sucking and choking on his fat cock.

Kashimo removes his finger from your mouth, too impatient to have you gagging on his dick. He kept his cyan eyes down on you while he licked his own fingers clean and it made you feel small and honestly inferior, submissive to him.

"Kneel down."

He had a mix of dominance and lust, greed hinted at the edge of his voice. You did as he said, kneeling down for your knees to take the weight while your face is in front of his crotch. Kashimo cupped his hand around the growing tent of his pants, rubbing it as his veins throbbed from the blood rushing south to his erection. "Go on. You know what to do," Kashimo had a smug smirk decorating his lips, eyeing down on you in front of him.

You gulped knowing what he wanted, the thought of his dick springing out of its restraints has you dripping wetter than before. Your hands pulled down on his pants slowly, earning a grunt from him at how you were taking your time in this. "Shit hun, stop teasing already," he grabbed a fistful of your hair and you moaned softly from how good it felt, forcing you to do as he say, rushing you more. Kashimo's left with his boxers on but you wanted to prolong your teasing. The tip of your tongue lapped at his clothed bulge leaving a damp spot, receiving labored breaths of sigh from him.

You continued your ministrations, licking his clothed shaft with the tip of your tongue like a needy slut until you yelped when he gently yanked on your hair, "what'd I say about teasing huh?" Your little fun of taking control was instantly stripped away when he forced you to stop. Pulling down the last of his restraints, his thick cock sprung out, tip leaking with precum.

Scrambling on your knees obediently, humiliation washed over you with your husband still gently grasping your hair. Kashimo's fingertip taps on his cock, smearing the pre-cum around the tip and then on your face.

"Pretty face would look better with my cock fucking into your mouth yeah?" He muses, moist tip rubbing up against your soft lips wanting to enter and just violate your face. You're practically drooling, tongue sticking out and he places his shaft flat onto it. You drag your tongue underneath him in a long and slow pace earning a low moan.

Your husband smoothly slides in his cock deep into your mouth, unprepared by his size even though you've already been married for years. You gagged a bit before adjusting to his length, drooling a bit onto his shaft and gripping on his thigh. His cock pushes through your lips, hitting the back of your throat while you try to breathe through your nose.

"Y'know you pissed me off. Just wanted to make me jealous huh?"

You couldn't respond. Cock deep in your mouth, you could only muffle in denial. It was true though, you didn't mean to make him jealous. What started off with you teasing him about it turned into him face fucking you. His smoothly styled cyan hair falls out of place, bangs sticking onto his face from the sweat forming on his forehead and his buns turning messy.

"Shouldn't my wife apologize? Use your big girl words and say you're sorry," the room resonates with his groans, his girth making it hard to breathe as you try and say sorry.

"Mmph- soh-wee—"

It was all you could say after all with a meaty cock in your mouth, nose brushing against his hair as he keeps you in place with the firm grip he has on your locks. A sadistic smirk curled onto Kashimo's lips as he watches, beginning to quicken up the pace. You hate and love how determined Kashimo is, once he sets his goal on something he'll do whatever it takes to achieve it. At this moment though, he's determined to have his wife deepthroating him.

The friction of each thrust has his dick tattooed in a darker red, grunting at the wet cave that's going to send him to heaven. His movements get sloppier and grow desperate, balls slapping against your chin with each thrust.

"Ah— fuck!" With a final thrust he spurts all his cum down your throat, pushing you right against him to keep you in place as his little cumdump and making sure to leave none behind. "Swallow," he demands, hot seed slides down your throat as you try and swallow while his dick is still in your mouth.

With a huff, Kashimo lets go of your abused throat to let you breathe. Gasping for air, your hand rubs your sore neck but you could see how his dick still stays standing despite how satisfied he was with jizzing in his wife's mouth.

Looking up at him, your husband's lips held the seductive smirk, palming on his wet, still-hard cock in front of you. Standing on his full height, he grabs your waist and pulls you up, laying your belly side on the kitchen counter behind you.

"You want this? Your pussy's drooling for my cock but you're not speaking clearly enough. I'm gonna need my little slut to speak. We can't have my wife suffering now can we?"

"Please.." you pleaded, his firm hand spanks your ass receiving a whine.

"Cute."

Kashimo slides inside with ease from how wet you were from your cancelled orgasm, cock stretching out your plush walls as your thighs shook in excitement. Moaning against your sleeve, you start fucking yourself on his dick. Kashimo doesn't hesitate in helping you, picking up the pace and fucking hard into your drenched cunt. You could feel every inch of his dick, pussy memorizing every pretty vein on him, how it feels like you two were made just for each other while his tip easily abuses your sensitive spot.

Your body glistens with sweat, shoulders littered with hickeys with Kashimo leaving bite marks on you, his teeth biting on your skin just hard enough to draw out pleasure without hurting you. You moaned as his fingers rubbed your clit in circles

Kashimo gets the perfect view of where your bodies are connected, every thrust from your squelching cunt creating a white ring of both your arousals. Your trembling legs were proof of how much you were enjoying it, toes curling and fingers gripping the smooth surface of the table with a muffled squeal.

"Fuck- gonna cum inside, gonna make you pregnant,"

He claws against your waist, the euphoria of him filling you up while your hardened nipples rubbed against the counter from each thrust's friction. Your mouth hung open but no noises escaped your pretty swollen lips. Kashimo loved the idea that his cock was making you feel so good that your brain couldn't even react to it all the while his tip kisses your womb with every push, hitting you in your fucked-out state.

"Can't even speak now? Wanna be a mommy huh? You like that idea?"

You tried reaching back to grab his arm, whimpering to signal that you were about to cum with the familiar coil tightening in your abdomen. Your husband leans down to give you kisses though they were more possessive than caring, giving sloppy french kisses with more tongue than lips. The sweat forming at your skin caused you to slide against the counter with every thrust, trying to grab on to anything for support.

The thought of your belly round with a baby and your fuller breasts being sensitive was enough for Kashimo to cum.

Teeth sinking into your neck to muffle his groans, his hot cum spilled inside of you making sure to paint every inch of your walls white. Spurts of his load fills your belly and he stays there cockwarming until it softens, pulling out.

Your husband's digits went down to spread your lower lips, watching how his cum oozed out of you. He curls his fingers to scoop up his orgasm and pushes it back into you, making sure his beloved wife is full of his hot seed.

"Hajime—"

"Sorry hun, I got too rough didn't I? I was just jealous but I'll make it up to you. I just love you so much," he plants a tender kiss on your back, massaging your sore hips.

Giggling at how he peppers soft kisses all over you, you reassure him. "It's okay, I had fun."

Chuckling, Kashimo nuzzles into your neck, still rubbing your sore flesh and promising to give you a full body massage.

"But hey, you'll make me such a happy daddy."

#kashimo #kashimo hajime #hajime kashimo #jjk kashimo #kashimo x reader #kashimo x y/n #jjk men #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #smut

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 4 months

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When The Clock Strikes Midnight.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - hi, my last post of the year, i just want to wish everyone reading this a very happy new year and that everything turns out alright, tpwk and stay safe!!

this is a pretty angsty piece i would say, as it covers topics of alcoholism where reader struggles with her alcohol, so please if this sort of thing triggers you in anyway, please do not read and if you do, please proceed with caution.

word count - 3.9k

in which, you and harry broke up just over a year ago, and have not seen each other since, but when your friend invites you to a new years eve party with all your close ones there, the last person you expected to see walk through the door was him.

The last place you saw yourself tonight was here.

Your best friend Maura had practically dragged you out of the confines of your apartment when she heard that you didn’t have any plans for New Year’s Eve, and insisted that you dress up and come along to the party her boyfriend Watson was throwing.

You tried to deny her nagging and told her that you were going to order a takeaway, most likely Chinese and facetime your mum like you did last year, and that would be that.

But no…she wasn’t having any of it.

So you chucked on a jumper, which was on the nicer side and paired it with a skirt and tights and your vans before applying a tiny bit of mascara and lipgloss and brushing your hair, before you were ushered out of the house into the Uber Maura had ordered whilst you were getting ready.

So now, here you were.

You find yourself in a corner of Watson's living room at the party, nursing a glass of coke as people swirl around you in a lively dance of laughter and chatter. The pulsating music fills the room, but you, lost in your own thoughts, wonder why you agreed to come in the first place.

Maura's insistence was hard to resist, but your reluctance lingers like a shadow.

Despite the energetic atmosphere, you're content to sip your non-alcoholic beverage and observe the whirlwind of festivities. Maura and Watson seem immersed in the revelry, blissfully unaware of your desire for a more tranquil evening.

The room's vibrant energy contrasts sharply with your subdued mood, as you contemplate the impending arrival of the new year with a sense of detachment.

Watson, with a hint of tipsiness in his step, ambles over to you in the corner of the living room. His usual laid-back demeanour shines through, but the warmth in his eyes intensifies as he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, you made it!" he exclaims, a wide grin on his face. Despite the slight wobble in his stance, you can't help but smile in response to his infectious enthusiasm.

Leaning in, Watson expresses genuine happiness that you decided to join the celebration.

"I'm so glad you're here, buddy. No one should spend New Year's Eve alone, right?" He punctuates his words with a friendly squeeze, and the camaraderie between you two, forged over the past six months since he began dating Maura, feels more like family than friendship.

In his slightly inebriated state, Watson plants a gentle kiss on the side of your head, a gesture that reflects the bond that has developed between you.

"You're like a little sister to me, you know that?" he chuckles, his words carrying a warmth that transcends the alcohol-induced haze. It's a testament to the solid foundation of your relationship, built on trust and camaraderie.

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, Watson decides it's time to shake off any lingering reservations you might have.

"Come on, let's hit the dance floor!" he declares, tugging you toward the centre of the room. The music's rhythm wraps around you both as Watson, with his signature charm, spins you into the lively dance.

Laughter and cheers surround you, and in this moment, you can't help but appreciate the unexpected joy that Watson has injected into your reluctant New Year's Eve.

As you sway to the music, Watson continues to share anecdotes and jokes, making the dance floor an extension of the bond you've formed. His boisterous laughter and the genuine joy in his expression erode any lingering doubts you had about attending. In the midst of the revelry, you realise that Watson's presence has transformed the night from an obligation into a shared celebration.

With each step and twirl, Watson's camaraderie becomes a comforting presence, and you find yourself immersed in the moment.

As you engage in conversation with Watson on the crowded dance floor, the doorbell unexpectedly rings, interrupting the lively atmosphere. Watson glances towards the entrance, a perplexed expression momentarily crossing his face.

"I'll be right back, just need to see who's at the door," he informs you, detaching from the dance momentarily.

Curiosity piqued, you nod and watch as Watson weaves through the festive crowd towards the entrance. The door swings open, and to your shock, your ex-boyfriend Harry steps into Watson's house.

They exchange greetings, and you can't help but wonder how they're connected. Watson glances your way, and you sense that he must have divulged your presence to Harry.

The room felt suffocating as you sat on Harry's sofa, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. The air crackled with an impending storm, and you could sense that something was about to shatter the fragile peace that had held your relationship together.

Harry's eyes, once filled with warmth and adoration, now held a distant sadness. His fingers nervously played with the edge of his shirt, betraying the turmoil within.

"We need t’talk," he finally uttered, the weight of those words settling in the room like a leaden silence.

You looked at him, anxiety clawing at your chest.

"What's going on, H?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again.

"I've been thinking a lot, and... I think we need t’take a break," he confessed, each word hanging in the air like an unspoken truth.

The room seemed to tilt, the weight of those words crashing into you.

"A break? What do you mean?" Your voice wavered, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach.

Harry's eyes welled with tears as he struggled to articulate the pain that lingered in his heart. "I can't give y’what y’deserve. M’career, the constant traveling , I can't be the best boyfriend f’you. Y’deserve someone who can be there f’you, not someone who's always halfway across the world."

More like you can’t give him what he deserves, your a mess, A drunken mess who can’t be trusted around a glass of wine or a gin and tonic.

It was your fault that he had had enough of the relationship, he was sick of looking after a girlfriend who couldn’t even look after herself, you weren’t what he wanted anymore and who could blame him?

You didn’t even want yourself anymore.

Your eyes mirrored the pain in his, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"But I don't want someone else. I want you," you pleaded, your heart breaking with every passing second.

He reached out, fingers gently wiping away your tears, a tender ache etched across his features.

"M’know, and s’why this hurts so damn much. I love you, but I can't watch y’waiting f’me all the time, feeling lonely. Y’deserve more than that."

The room echoed with the silence of shattered dreams as you both sat there, wrapped in the agony of an impending separation.

"I thought we could make it work," you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the heartache.

Harry's voice trembled as he spoke, his eyes mirroring the anguish in your own. "I thought so too, but I can't keep asking you t’wait f’a future that's uncertain. It's not fair t’you."

The weight of the impending break weighed on you both, and the room became a crucible of emotions.

"I can't believe this is happening," you uttered, your voice catching on a sob.

Harry pulled you into an embrace, holding you close as if trying to memorize the feel of your presence.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he whispered, the words a fragile admission of the pain etched across his heart.

As the room witnessed the unraveling of your shared dreams, the tears flowed freely, and the echoes of a love that once burned bright now flickered in the dimming light of heartbreak. The sofa, witness to your shared laughter and whispered confessions, now bore the weight of an anguished goodbye.

"I thought we were stronger than this," you choked out, your words a desperate plea for reassurance.

Harry's response was a strained whisper, heavy with regret. "Love isn't always enough, and that's the hardest part to accept."

Your heart skips a beat as Harry's eyes sweep the room, eventually locking onto you. The unexpected encounter catches you off guard, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. Unsure of how to react, you instinctively turn I’m away, making a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

you navigate through the crowded kitchen, the echoes of the past still haunting the recesses of your mind. The room, once a sanctuary, now pulsates with the vibrant energy of the New Year's Eve celebration. As you lean against the counter, you attempt to catch your breath, the atmosphere thick with the weight of unexpected emotions.

The room is a sea of faces, laughter, and clinking glasses, but in this moment, you feel a profound sense of isolation. The air is heavy with the unspoken tension that lingers after encountering Harry, and you find solace in the rhythmic pattern of your own breaths. Each inhale and exhale becomes a deliberate act, a quiet rebellion against the memories that threatened to resurface.

Your eyes inadvertently gravitate towards a bottle of vodka on the crowded kitchen counter, a silent temptation beckoning from its transparent confines. The memories of your past struggles with alcohol loom heavily, each incident etched into your consciousness like a haunting refrain. The room pulses with celebratory energy, yet the familiar lure of numbing the pain through a drink threatens to unravel your hard-fought sobriety.

The bottle stands as a silent witness to the battles you've waged, a tangible reminder of the coping mechanism you once clung to in moments of despair. The urge to drown the resurgence of emotions triggered by seeing Harry again intensifies, as if the vodka holds the promise of temporary relief from the tumult within. However, the echo of past hospital visits, the panicked calls from Maura during Harry's tours, and the aftermath of your own struggles remind you of the high cost that accompanies each sip.

The sterile hospital room bore witness to your feigned slumber as Harry and the doctor engaged in a conversation that would forever echo in your memory. Their voices, a discordant symphony of concern, cut through the antiseptic atmosphere.

"You need to understand the gravity of the situation, Mr. Styles. Her liver is under immense strain," the doctor explained, the weight of the diagnosis evident in their tone. "Excessive alcohol intake has brought her here before, and if it continues, we risk irreversible damage."

Harry's voice, tinged with a mixture of fear and frustration, joined the conversation. "What can we do t’make her stop? This can't be good f’her, and I can't bear to see her like this again."

The doctor, ever composed, responded with a professional calm. "Encouraging her to seek professional help is crucial. She needs intervention and support to address the root causes behind her drinking patterns. This goes beyond just a medical issue."

Your heart sank as you lay there, eavesdropping on the conversation that underscored the depth of your struggle.

"She's in a dangerous cycle, and we need to break it before it leads to irreversible consequences," the doctor continued, the gravity of their words sinking in.

Harry, struggling to comprehend the severity of the situation, pressed for guidance. "What should I say t’her? How can I help her understand the impact of her actions?"

The doctor's response held a note of empathy. "Express your concern without judgment. Encourage her to seek counseling or join support groups. It's crucial that she feels supported and understood during this process."

As the dialogue unfolded, you grappled with a mix of emotions – shame, guilt, and the daunting realization that your actions were not only affecting you but those who cared about you.

The familiar pull of an old coping mechanism clashes with the resolve you've built over the past year. Without much thought, you lift the bottle, contemplating the relief it promises, only to freeze as a voice interrupts your inner struggle.

"Don't you dare take a sip from that bottle."

The words, stern and commanding, cut through the haze of your thoughts. You recognize the voice instantly, and a mixture of surprise and apprehension washes over you. Slowly, you turn around to face him, the bottle held in your hand like a delicate secret.

Harry stands there, his expression a mixture of concern and determination.

"You've come too far t’let this be y’undoing," he states, his gaze unwavering. The air between you hangs heavy with unspoken emotions as you contemplate his unexpected intervention.

Resisting the urge to avoid his gaze, you decide to walk past him, hoping to escape the confrontation. However, his hand closes around your wrist, preventing your departure.

"Let it go," he implores, his eyes searching yours for a hint of understanding. The bottle dangles between you, a tangible symbol of the inner turmoil that threatens to resurface.

In the charged silence, Harry's grip on your wrist feels both restraining and grounding.

"Y’don't need this, and y’know it," he adds, his voice softening. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrors the complex history you share, the wounds of the past laid bare in this unexpected moment of confrontation.

Glancing at the clock, you note the relentless ticking, each second stretching out like an eternity. Twenty minutes until midnight, and the anticipation of a fresh start intensifies. The atmosphere feels stifling as you wrestle with conflicting emotions, your hand still in Harry's grip. The unspoken tension lingers, and you decide that the arrival of the new year will also signal your exit.

Jerking your hand away from Harry's hold, you feel a surge of frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"I can't do this anymore," you mutter, the anguished words hanging in the air between you. The clock's relentless countdown amplifies the urgency of the moment.

Turning to face him, you meet Harry's gaze with a steely resolve.

"I'm not a child. I can do what I want," you assert, the words carrying a weight that transcends the immediate situation. The bitterness in your voice mirrors the tumultuous emotions churning within.

Harry's expression shifts from concern to a mix of frustration and helplessness.

"This isn't about control, it's about caring," he argues, the lines of his forehead creasing with worry. The room feels smaller, the air thick with the unresolved tension of the past.

"I don't need your care," you snap, your tone cutting through the charged atmosphere. The proximity of midnight becomes both a countdown to liberation and a reminder of the constraints that linger. The resentment that simmers beneath your words reflects a deeper struggle against the shadows of a shared history.

You walk out of the kitchen, the bottle still in your hand, its cold surface a stark reminder of the internal struggle you've been wrestling with. Glancing down at it, you contemplate the temptation it holds. However, a determined sigh escapes your lips as you decide against taking that path. In search of solace, you spot Maura near the bathroom, engrossed in conversation with a friend.

As she notices you approaching, Maura ushers you over with a warm smile. The vodka bottle clinks softly, drawing her attention.

"You didn't, did you?" she asks, her eyes widening with concern. You hand her the bottle, and she gasps when she realizes its weight.

"I almost did," you admit, the honesty heavy in your words. "Seeing Harry after a year... it's just really hard, and I thought I needed something to take the edge off."

Maura's expression shifts from shock to a compassionate understanding. She places a comforting hand on your shoulder, leading you away from the commotion.

"You don't need to have a drink to feel something, darling," she reassures, her voice a soothing balm. "Facing those emotions is tough, but numbing them won't make them disappear. You're stronger than you think."

The weight of her words resonates, and you find a sense of grounding in Maura's wisdom.

"I just... I didn't expect it to hit me this hard," you confess, the vulnerability of the moment laid bare.

Maura nods, her empathy evident. "Love has a way of lingering, especially when there's history. It's okay to feel, even if it's painful. You've come so far, and I know you can navigate this without resorting to old habits."

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, Maura's words serve as a reminder that facing the emotions head-on is a strength, not a weakness.

The night air in the back garden carries a crisp chill, providing a respite from the crowded and charged atmosphere indoors. With just five minutes until midnight, you find solace in the quietude of the outdoors. The rustling of leaves and the distant hum of laughter create a backdrop for contemplation as you seek to contain the swirl of thoughts within.

The faint glow of string lights casts a gentle illumination, revealing a mosaic of emotions etched on your face. The weight of the past, the encounter with Harry, and the echoes of previous struggles converge in this moment of reflection. The cool breeze becomes a metaphorical breath, allowing you to exhale the complexities that have unfolded throughout the night.

Despite the passage of time, you find that lingering feelings persist, stubbornly anchored in the recesses of your emotions. The garden, illuminated by the soft glow of string lights, becomes a backdrop for a bittersweet revelation – you still carry a flame for him.

However, self-awareness prevails, and you acknowledge the undeniable truth that echoes in the quiet of the night. The person you once were, entwined with Harry in a different chapter of your lives, no longer aligns with the person he seeks now. The journey of growth and self-discovery has shaped you both in divergent ways, leading to an understanding that the path forward must be traversed separately.

With a deep breath, you accept the inevitability of change and recognize that clinging to what once was will only hinder your individual paths.

A subtle clearing of the throat interrupts your contemplation in the garden, prompting you to turn. To your surprise, Harry stands there with two glasses of lemonade, his expression softening as he offers them to you.

"Been looking f’you," he says, a hint of concern in his voice.

You accept the lemonade with a nod, appreciating the gesture even as the complexity of emotions lingers in the air.

"Just needed some fresh air," you reply, your gaze momentarily dropping to the glass in your hands.

Harry takes a seat on the concrete step next to you, the night air carrying a blend of both familiarity and unspoken tension.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks, and you find yourself hesitating before reluctantly nodding. The silence that follows is palpable, laden with the echoes of a shared history.

"I never thought I'd see you again after everything," Harry admits, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. You sense a vulnerability in his tone, a shared acknowledgment of the complexities that led to your parting.

"Yeah, life takes unexpected turns," you respond, tracing the rim of your glass with your fingertips. The garden, once a haven for solitary reflection, transforms into an arena for the unspoken exchange between two people navigating the remnants of a connection.

Harry's gaze meets yours, and a soft smile plays on his lips. "I've missed this, y’know? Just talking like we used to."

The sentiment catches you off guard, and you muster a small smile in return. "Things change, Harry. We change."

Harry's admission hangs heavy in the air as he confesses,

"I've missed y’a lot. Every night before bed, you're all I think about." The vulnerability in his voice is evident, the weight of unspoken longing underscoring his words.

You take a moment, the weight of his confession settling in the quiet of the garden. With a sigh, you respond, "It was the right decision to take a break. I was a mess, and I wasn't what you wanted."

However, before you can elaborate, Harry interrupts, a furrow forming on his brow. "No, s’not why. I never once thought about breaking up with y’because of y’drinking problems. It was the constant leaving, the distance. I felt like I couldn't be the partner y’eeded."

His words catch you off guard, a mix of surprise and realization washing over you. The clarity in his confession adds a layer of complexity to the narrative you had constructed in your mind.

"I thought... I thought it was because of me," you admit, the vulnerability echoing in your own voice.

Harry reaches for your hand, a gesture that conveys both comfort and sincerity. "It wasn't about you. It was about me feeling like I couldn't be the best partner f’you. I should've communicated that better."

The garden, witness to the intimate exchange, becomes a space for newfound understanding. The dialogue unfolds, untangling the threads of misperception and unveiling the intricacies of the emotions that lingered beneath the surface. As the clock approaches midnight, the shared revelations become a poignant marker in the journey toward healing and clarity.

His thumb gently traces circles on the back of your hand as he continues, "I regret asking for that break. I didn't realize how much it would affect me, being without you. I've spent every night wondering if I made the right decision."

You meet his gaze, a mix of compassion and acceptance in your eyes. "H, it was the right decision for both of us. I was a mess back then, and I couldn't have given you what you needed. It wasn't just about the drinking; it was about me figuring myself out."

Hearing you call him by the familiar nickname of ‘H’ has his heart twitching beneath his rib cage, oh how he’s missed you calling him that.

He squeezes your hand, a silent acknowledgment of your words. "But not once did I think about ending things because of y’struggles. It was the constant coming and going, the uncertainty. I felt like I was leaving y’alone too often, and it wasn't fair t’you."

As the conversation deepens, the layers of misunderstanding peel away, revealing the raw authenticity beneath.

"I never wanted you t’feel like y’couldn't be yourself," Harry admits, a sincerity coloring his tone. "I should've communicated better, been more honest about how I was feeling."

It isn’t long before the people crowded inside the house start counting down from ten, only second away from being embraced by 2024.

“10…”

“9…”

Harry leans in close, his words a hushed confession, "I still love you."

“8…”

“7…”

Caught off guard, you turn to look at him, the sincerity in his eyes echoing the sentiments you thought were buried in the past. you find your voice, whispering amidst the cacophony, "I love you too."

“6…”

“5…”

The counting continues, a rhythmic backdrop to the shared revelation hanging in the air. In a moment of vulnerability, Harry's gaze lingers on yours.

“4…”

“3…”

And that’s when he musters up enough courage to ask for the first time in a year. "Can I kiss you?"

“2…”

“1…”

As the countdown approaches its climax, the world outside the window erupts in cheers.

In the final seconds, the clock striking midnight, Harry softly presses his lips against yours, a tender exchange that marks the inception of a new year and a rekindled connection, forged amidst the symphony of shared confessions and the promise of a fresh start.

And this all happened when the clock struck midnight.

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 4 months

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A Little Bit More

25/12: Promise & Phone Sex - Billy Washington Word Count: 1.6k~ | Warnings: phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) A/N: this exists in the Every Little Bit universe!

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

He always knew it was coming around, and yet he always hated it.

Her dad’s birthday was in between Christmas and New Year, that weird time where you don’t know what day it is, never seem to have enough food in and where you’re so disorientated in the post-Christmas haze that it’s like coming down from a sugar high.

It was the few times of year where she went away by herself, wanting to spare Billy from the absolute torture of being around her parents for a few days as she made excuse after excuse as to why they weren’t married yet.

Not that he minded, there was only so much of her mum Billy could take.

He’d seen her off at the train station, her duffel bag looking very much as big as her in the cutest way possible as she skipped off to the platform in her winter overcoat and scarf, the chill nipping at her cheeks.

It was only a few days. It was only a few days. He had to keep reminding himself.

Billy sighed, tapping the remote control against his knee, only half-watching whatever terrible Friday night tele graced his flat. The pizza box was closed shut on the coffee table, having tried to cheer himself up with a takeaway.

His phone buzzed, and he couldn't help the smile that rose to his face, seeing her name in bright white letters on the face of it.

She'd promised to ring 9 o’clock on the dot, after all.

“Hiya, ya alright?” he answered, his voice sounding perkier already, his muscles relaxing once he heard her voice.

“Hey, you sound happy”, she replied low down the phone, and he could tell she was smiling by the way she said it.

“I am now,” he grinned, “just finished a 12 inch on my own.”

She groaned over the line, “Billy.”

“I'm joking, it's because I've heard your voice again.”

“Better,” she laughed breathily, “what you up to? Other than missing me, of course.”

He sighs, “Being a sad cunt, staying in with a beer watching whatever shite is on Channel 4.”

“Ooh dear,” she says unenthusiastically, “sounds dull, babe.”

Billy hummed in agreement, “What about you? What you up to?”

It was her turn to sigh, “fuck all, really. Mum and Dad went to go and see Mum's mate Jill, you know Jill don't you?”

“Yes, babe.”

“Yeah, well they left at five and are yet to be back. Convinced she's got them tied up in the basement.”

Billy laughed through his nose, “That actually sounds better than what she might actually be doing, chatting their bloody ears off.”

“Poor buggers, eh,” she laughed, “so I'm sat here on my tod.”

“What a shame you've got me to talk to then.”

He could hear her smile, “could be worse. You missing me?”

The alcohol had offered him a kind of confidence, and he sucked his teeth, holding back a grin, “You could say that. Missing something anyway.”

He heard her mischievous tone even over the crackle of the phone.

“Are you now?”

The line went quiet for a while, before a notification buzzed and Billy turned her on loudspeaker for a moment as he pulled his phone from his ear to check.

…has sent an image.

With one flick of his thumb, his jaw dropped, the depths of his gut becoming tight and hot by the picture she'd sent him. It was her figure reflected in a mirror, wearing clearly nothing but a large t-shirt (his, he noted) and pulling the spare fabric to one side to show her curves as well as her pebbled nipples beneath it.

“Jesus..”

She giggled over the phone, “is that a good ‘jesus’?”

“I-fuck, yes…”

Another one arrived, with her pulling up the hem of her shirt over her hips and expanse of her stomach, just beneath the shadow of her breasts.

“Christ, babe, what are you doing to me?”

She hummed, “sorry, you said you were missing me.”

Billy sighed looking at the photos, every now and then closing his eyes to will the feeling of her skin onto his fingertips, the warmth of her, the sounds she'd make for him.

His breathing grew shallow as he reached into his jeans, wrapping one hand around his length, to softly pump himself, already half-hard since the moment the first picture arrived.

“Are you enjoying them?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Mmhm..” he murmured.

Another few arrived, in various stages. One where the shirt was fully over her breasts, one where she was wearing nothing at all leaning back to show her full naked torso, and one sat on the bed, the lines appearing where her hips met her thighs.

“Oh fuck…”

Over the phone, she could hear the clinking of his belt as he pleasured himself, “are you touching yourself, baby?”

He could only make a sound in confirmation, his throat closing as he fisted himself to the photos of her.

She sighed, as if her touching herself was expelling a deeply rooted desire, her hands sliding between her legs, the other holding the phone to her ear, “Mm…wish you were here…”

“-ffuck-me too, baby-”

His strained voice was enough to coax some slick between her fingers, using it to pleasure herself, laid back on the bed.

“are you on the sofa?...”

He swallowed, breathlessly replying, “yeah..”

“Do you remember before I left…” she started, and the memory nearly made Billy dizzy.

He was sat right where he is right now, legs apart to accommodate her kneeling there. She'd been annoyed that he was playing Xbox, and so, in an effort to make him lose his game, had knelt in front of him, pulled his sweatpants over his hips and eagerly took his length between her lips.

She'd gotten what she wanted. Before long, his controller was long forgotten and instead, his fingers were threaded through her hair, guiding her pace on him.

He can feel his stomach tightening at the memory of the sensation.

“Do you remember, baby?”

“Yes…”

“Hm..” she hummed, over the phone, while in her own bed began to hasten the pace of her self-pleasure.

"If I were there...do you know what I'd do?"

"What..." he breathed, his hold on his phone so tight without realising.

"I'd get up...off my knees...on top of you..." she muses, sighing at the feeling herself beginning to crest, "...maybe tease you a bit..."

"Fuck-no, baby, don't tease me-"

She let out a breathy laugh, "but why not? It's so much fun."

Her hips canted towards her own touch, her eyes fluttering shut as she held the phone loosely as the pressure tightened in her gut.

"What would you do, baby? If I was right there on top of you..."

His voice came strained, every stroke of his length in his fist drawing him close to fulfilment.

"I would - I'd fuckin' pull you down..."

She could tell he was close by the tone of his voice, and she bit back a smile, knowing he was much too far gone to even form a coherent thought.

"I'd let you fuck me...right there...be your little fuck toy..." She mused in a sort of whisper, "...you could cum inside me...as many times as you want, baby..."

Billy's lips parted, not even realising how his movements had become rapid, needy and quick.

"Oh fuck-"

On the other side she was close herself, and then she heard the prompt and pulled the phone away from her ear to see a request to switch to video call. She accepted without thinking and felt her gut twist at what she saw.

His jeans were pushed around his zipper barely, only enough to free his cock as he pumped it quickly. She was entranced as Billy pleasured himself in real time, her face growing warm at the effect she'd clearly had on him.

And then she heard it, a long shuddered whimper of her name, followed by, "Oh baby-"

She felt her thighs tremble as she came, warmth rushing beneath her hips and a tingling sensation rushing from her toes all the way up her spine, as Billy groaned deeply and spilled all over his fingers for her to see.

Her hand has slowed, overstimulation gnawing as she touched herself with Billy's languid thrusts into his hand continuing to pull a deep arousal from her.

Over the video she heard his laboured breaths, gulping for air.

When the video turned off she smiled tiredly and pulled her phone back to her ear, hearing his tired, exhausted voice.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he breathed. She could imagine him, all spent and limp on the sofa, and the thought made her smirk and press her thighs together with want.

"Mm, you're telling me. Do you feel better now?" She asked demurely.

"Fuck you," he teased, "fuck, I can't wait for you to get back..."

She gave a short laugh, "Oh yeah? What you gonna do when I am?"

He was quiet for so long she wondered if he'd heard her, her brows furrowed in confusion, lips parted to ask him if he was still there.

But realistically, on the other end, a wide smile graced his face, his blue eyes all aglimmer with mischief.

And what he said had the power to shut her right up. Excitement made her stomach flip, wondering what version of Billy she seems to have unleashed. Gone was the shy, unconfident Billy she'd found. Her efforts in getting him to...unwind somewhat shocking even her.

"How did you put it, hm?" he laughed, with a smile so bright like he'd just opened a present, "My little fuck toy?"

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

#billy washington x oc #billy washington x y/n #billy washington x reader #billy washington #billy washington fanfic #billy washington smut #billy washington fic #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington x you #billy washington x fem!reader #trigger point series #trigger point fanfic #trigger point billy washington #billy washington trigger point #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #12daysofsmuff

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mareagirls · 1 year

Note

Hi! If you’re ever in the mood to write a sickfic I like this idea.

Peter and reader are on a date, but reader feels nauseous. But, reader doesn’t want to tell Peter because a: they’ve both been super busy lately between Spider-Man duties and college and/or work and b: because even if reader won’t admit it, being vulnerable and being taken care of kind of scares them. But Peter finds out/figured it out and wants to help and fluff ensues.

Anyway, it’s just an idea. No pressure to complete (obvi)! Hope you’re doing well and drinking water! <3

~🥧

hey pie anon! i hope this is okay and i'm sorry it's months late! I forgot it was in my drafts :')

You realise something is wrong when you’re only a quarter of the way through your pizza and Peter is over half way through his.

You feel sick. Or at the very least least like you might be - nausea brewing uncomfortably in your stomach as you take small bites of your food.

Your boyfriend chats away opposite you, blissfully unaware that you've started to feel queasy, so you plaster a smile on your face and swallow hard. The two of you have been incredibly busy for the past few days between your work and his vigilante duties, and the last thing you want to do is ruin the first peaceful moment you’ve had together. You can tell how much Peter has needed a little normalcy. The thought of ruining it because you’re feeling a little off feels incredibly selfish.

Beyond that, you're not used to letting people take care of you, and though Peter has told you countless times that he likes doing it, you can never quite dislodge uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability that blooms in you whenever he does. Letting yourself be loved, allowing Peter to look after you when you're not feeling too well - they're processes. You've been trying to work on them for a while, but it's difficult. It always has been.

You’re just trying to rub at your chest discreetly when Peter looks up at you from his almost empty plate.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes! Yeah, everything is fine." Your reply comes out wobbly and you only realise afterwards that you’ve made too much of an effort to sound alright. You smile at Peter through gritted teeth and try foolishly to convince yourself that if you pretend the nausea doesn't exist, it'll go.

Peter doesn’t look like he believes you for a second.

"Are you sure? Do you not like your pizza?" He pushes his own plate towards you as if it's the easiest thing ever, offering you his last two slices. "Here, baby. We can swap."

The tender easiness in the gesture very nearly makes you want to cry. Peter Parker might just be the loveliest boy you’ve ever known.

"No, Peter it's okay. My pizza is good,” your hands shifts slightly to rub against your abdomen, Peter tracks your movements cautiously. “I'm just kinda full I think.”

Your boy raises an eyebrow at your barely eaten pizza but nods, never one to push you for explanations.

"I'll ask for the bill and a box to take the rest home. We can have the ice cream in the freezer when we get back. How's that sound?"

The thought of ice cream makes you feel queasy, but Peter seems so hopeful and he's looked so tired and sad in the past few days that you cant help but indulge him.

Once you’ve gotten the bill and packed your leftover pizza into a takeaway box, Peter takes your hand in his and guides you out of the restaurant.

New York City in the evening is a sensory nightmare, but your nausea does abate slightly thanks to the fresh air. You catch Peter looking down at you and stamp an awkward smile on your face.

"Home?" He squeezes your fingers gently.

Your stomach churns at the thought of having to go so far, but Peter is looking at you like you've hung the moon and the stars - the journey home feels a little more bearable with him by your side.

"Yes please."

"You okay to walk?"

"I'm fine, Peter. I promise."

"No, you're not, baby. And that's okay, you don't have to tell me what's wrong if you don’t want to. Just let me take care of you."

You sigh, resigned. You don't even know why you tried to hide it from him. Peter can quite literally hear your heartbeat, of course he was going to clock that you're not feeling too well.

Peter keeps his body angled towards yours as the two of you walk, and you soon realise that he's shielding you the best he can from the light around you and all the bodies rushing past. It's a small gesture, one that he might not even realise he's doing, but makes your chest flutter pleasantly

Then, just as you think that maybe the nausea is easing up, another wave of discomfort overwhelms you and you stumble.

Fortunately Peter catches your wrist just before you can do any real damage, balancing your pizza box in his free hand. He helps you back up easily, his fingers a warm pressure on your skin.

"Woah. Hey, hey, sweetheart. Let's just stop for a second, hm?"

You are mortified, and very sorry about how inconvenient you're being but when Peter pulls you to a stop, you oblige. Tears swarming in your eyes, you make one last ditch attempt at snuffing out the discomfort by pushing your face into the soft sweatshirt your boyfriend is wearing.

You feel him go still and for one horrible millisecond, you think he's going to push you away, but then Peter’s body relaxes and he presses you against him softly, almost as if he's afraid to hurt you.

You mumble into his chest. "I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, you don't have to apologise," his lips are soft against the crown of your head. "You're good. Let's take a moment, alright?"

You nod, sniffing slightly.

"We're nearly there. Just a few more blocks to go."

Something like a whine gets stuck in your throat and Peter coos gently, a hand coming up to cup the back of your head. “I know. You’re alright, honey. I've got you.”

You straighten up after a few seconds, aware that this is not at all what he signed up for when the two of you left the house, and Peter frowns a little.

"You can lean into me, baby. You're not a bother."

And you do know, because he's said it to you countless times before in different variations. I like being there for you. You don't have to apologise. I'm here for you, it's kinda in the boyfriend job description.

Peter doesn’t have to repeat himself. When he nudges you closer, you lean in.

Once you’re at home, Peter lets go of you carefully, never taking his eyes off you as he reaches into his jacket pocket and pull out the keys to let you both in.

He places the pizza box on the microwave in the kitchen before following you through down the corridor, a hand ghosting the small of your back. When you reach the bedroom, he dims the lights.

You sit on the bed gingerly. Peter sits next to you.

"How are you feeling?" Peter asks.

You’re quiet for a while. Then, a small admission;

"I feel really nauseous Peter." You avoid his gaze. "It started in the restaurant. I don't... I don't know what's wrong."

Peter is silent for a beat. You take it as a sign that you've said something wrong.

"It's fine though. I'm sorry for ruining the meal. I know you were looking forward to this." your voice is hoarse. "I’m really sorry."

When you muster the courage to look up at him, Peter looks horrified.

"Baby, what are you talking about? You didn't ruin anything. It's okay." His hand comes up to brush at your jawline. "I got to spend time with my best girl. I feel like the luckiest guy alive."

You think he might be exaggerating just to make you smile, but there's real sincerity in his tone. "Do you want pain relief? Some ginger tea, maybe?"

Right now, you only want Peter.

"Can we just cuddle for a bit, please?"

"Oh, my girl." Peter is already pulling you down so that you're lying against his chest. "C'mere."

#peter parker imagine #tasm peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #fic recs #mareagirls musings #tasm x reader #peter parker one shot #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm peter parker x you #my works! 💌#i cannot believe i have finished writing something 😭#it’s been MONTHS #i’m so rusty

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hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch · 1 year

Text

What are we Wanda?

I got a little carried away with this request but it's finally here!

Request for @katiemcgrathsbitch1 I hope you like it 😊 I'm sorry it took so long!

Summary: You and Wanda were friends with benefits and that’s it or is it? Wanda can’t make up her mind about how she feels about you until a party forces her to confront her feelings

Words: 3,384 (got carried away)

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, light smut, swearing, and Wanda having emotions

“Shit Wanda, that must be a record” you were breathless and yet Wanda was still going, riding you with no abandon, a strap nestled deep inside her, for what felt like hours now, actually it probably was hours for all you know “fuck Y/n! Keep going!”

You let out a strained chuckle gripping her waist “you’re doing most of the work”

She laughed and slowed herself down after her like 4th orgasm? “yo-you never do any work”

“Fuck off Wands I eat you out” a particularly hard thrust made Wanda fall on top of you and you laughed "are you okay mommy?" you feigned concern for her "fuck you Y/n" her breath was ragged trying to gain control but you laughed halting your pace and holding her still on your lap

"Y/n! Come on don't stop please! I'm sorry just keep going!" Her incoherent ramblings made you laugh, she was so cute, her nose scrunch and the way her hands gripped your shoulders and the small whimpers leaving her mouth every time she rolled her hips

"What are y-you staring at?" Wanda wasn't sure why you were staring at her but you'd been doing it a few times since you guys started sleeping together and while it seemed fine Wanda worried you were getting feelings for her, this was about sex and sex only, yeah you and her had little takeaway dates before you tore each other’s clothes off and sometimes breakfast in bed but you both agreed it was nothing serious, that's what she keeps telling herself anyway

"I'm staring at the hottest woman in the world on my lap, maybe I'll take a picture and send it to our friends, I know Vis has been eyeing you up, do you think he'd like seeing you fall apart on my lap? I bet he would the-

A slap stopped you talking "the fuck was that?" You refused to move ignoring the way her nails dug into your shoulders "you've never slapped me"

"You wouldn't shut up" she breathed out

"There's other ways to shut me up Wanda" you laughed and Wanda rolled her eyes removing herself from your lap "I'm no longer in the mood"

You tried to hold in your laughter as you watched Wanda limp to the bathroom, sighing you removed the harness throwing it to the floor and covering yourself with the blanket

When Wanda came out a few minutes later she was in one of your bathrobes glaring at you "so what do you have to say?"

You shrugged "you'd look better without the robe to be honest"

"Not me idiot, why'd you involve our friends and Vis? I don't want to think about them while I'm riding you do I?"

You thought about it and you guessed she was right but she still didn't have to be so overdramatic "sorry Wands I guess I just got a little excited"

She giggled "I like you excited but that was a bit much"

Wanda walked back to the bed getting in a cuddling up to you laying her head on her favourite part of your body, your chest, chest was definitely her favourite

"Why don't you ever let me cuddle on your chest?" You laughed always admiring how Wanda curled into you and gave a small kiss to your shoulder.

"Are you kidding me? Your chest is heaven your breasts are like pillows"

"That sounds like a teenage boy talking" you patted her on the head and if she wasn't so comfy she'd shout at you “just shut up and take the compliment for once”

*****************************************************************

Nat pressed up against Wanda kissing her neck and smiling at the moans that escaped her mouth "you're adorable Wands, such a brat too"

She pushed Nat away at that frowning at her "I'm not a brat Natalia"

The woman laughed "what's up with you? You've been distracted, have you been with Y/n again? You always get so boring after being with her-

"Don't say that!" Wanda scrambled from the wall pushing the redhead and drawing the attention of some of the other partygoers but they quickly disbanded

"Come on Wands just admit it, you like Y/n-

"Shut up!" Wanda walked away Nat storming through the drunken crowd coming to a small table and couch where she could collect her thoughts, was she really falling for you? What the hell was happening? She told herself, told herself she wouldn't get feelings and yet here she was acting like a stupid in love 16 year old

Sitting down she groaned holding her head in her hands, maybe she should call you, no! That's crazy, she called you for sex and sex only not advice.

"Fucking pathetic Wanda" she whispered to herself falling into the cushions behind her closing her eyes and sighing.

Trying to enjoy the few minutes she had alone Wanda closed her eyes but a small sniffle stopped her, turning to her left she saw a girl with her head in her hands trying to stop herself from crying

"Hey..Hey you okay?" She put her hand on her shoulder and when she looked up Wanda gasped "Y/n?! What happened?!"

Wanda pulled you into her lap squeezing you tight listening to you cry and hating every minute of your sadness, especially with how she currently felt about you "what happened Y/n?"

Your cries were finally quiet enough for Wanda to ask you the question and you lifted your head up to meeting her soft eyes that made you smile "Car-Carol's a bitch"

Carol of course it was Carol! Wanda couldn't stand her, every time she wanted something she'd go to you and you would hep her each and every time, if Wanda wasn't around one time you would've given Carol the $8,000 she asked for that one time.

"What did she do moya lyubov'?" Wanda tried containing her simmering rage and urge to go and slap Carol with a hot iron

"Does it matter? She's just a bitch, doesn't need a reason" the tears stopped falling and you sat up out of her grasp "I'm gonna go home coming here was a mistake" you went to get up but Wanda stopped you keeping you in her lap and nuzzling her face into your neck

"You'll stay right here with me and we'll show that bitch that you deserve only the best in life-

"She wanted me to go on another date with her and I said no and she said thats okay because she didn't want your sloppy seconds and everyone laughed and I didn't know what to do and it just hurt because I know it's kinda true-

Wanda kissed you hard shutting you up and rubbing her hand up and down your back soothing you, finally pulling away from you Wanda smiled wide "let me have a chat with the queen bitch herself, I'll be right back" she kissed you again quickly and left you on the couch while she stormed off into the next room

"Hey Carol! Wanda interrupted her laughing with her friends making her turn around smirking at her "oh here she comes, Westview's biggest whore-

A crack echoed through the room and then went silent as Carol held her nose blood gushing out from it, and Wanda smirked in satisfaction "what were you saying Carol? Were you trying to call me a whore? Better being a whore than a self centred bitch with anger issues and a seniority complex-"

"Wanda chill out!" Tony tried but Wanda stopped him "get fucked Tony you're just as bad! If any and I mean any of you insult, mock or even look at Y/n the wrong way I'll come back and do worse to the lot of you what I did to Carol, stay the fuck away!"

The redhead stormed out of the room ignoring the glares and whispers coming back to you and grabbing your hand to pull you out of the party and to her car "Wanda your hand, your hand's bleeding"

"Doesn't matter come on" she opened the car door getting you in and settled wincing every time she grazed her knuckles against something

"What did you do?" You tried again when Wanda got into the driver's seat driving off to your house "I took care of Carol" was all she said keeping her eyes on the road trying to hide the sting that came to her hand everyone and then

"Did you punch her?" You were impressed actually, you didn't know Wanda had it in her, it was Pietro who was the angrier twin but you guessed she had it in her

"Yeah, yeah I did" she smiled "she deserved it and I'd do it again"

"Thank you" You whispered and Wanda smiled reaching over to grab your hand squeezing your hand "you're welcome my love"

When Wanda pulled up to your house she got out and opened the door for you "now, we're going to go inside, get some snacks and watch some crappy TV shows"

"Actually can we talk?" You held Wanda's hand keeping you both in place next to the car "I need to ask you something"

Wanda sighed getting nervous but nodded letting you ask your question

"Wanda what are we?" Such a simple question, just four words and yet Wanda was struggling to find words to respond with "I-Y/n I just-

"Never mind, I'm going inside, thank's for the ride home" you let go of her hand going to the front door

"Y/n wait!" Wanda ran up to you bringing you into a hug "I love you" she whispered over and over again "I love you, I love you so much" the tears fell from Wanda's eyes hugging you close to her body refusing to let you go

"I'm sorry for messing you around I'm sorry for not saying how I feel because I'm awful with feelings and emotional shit-

You held your head up smiling at Wanda shutting her up "I love you too Wanda, thanks for being honest with me"

Wanda let out a sigh she didn't know she was holding and started laughing "you're the best, come on I could really use a drink now"

The redhead opened the door letting you in first and quickly shutting the door bringing you back into a hug wrapping her arms around your front kissing you neck "forget the drink how about we just go upstairs?"

You chuckled leaning your head back into her "actually I'm kinda hungry"

Wanda sighed closing her eyes knowing full well she wouldn't be able to get you to do anything without being fed

"What do you want to eat? I'll get you absolutely anything you want moya lyubov', maybe some oysters and chocolate covered strawberries to get you in the mood?"

You turned around in her hold kissing a slightly frustrated Wanda "let's order Chinese and while we wait we can do whatever you want"

Wanda perked up "hmm sounds good, how about you wear that lingerie set we bought a few weeks ago?"

You lowered your head "you mean the one I got for my valentines date with Carol?"

Wanda lifted your chin up kissing your nose making you giggle "she doesn't fucking deserve you Y/n you're mine now and I will never ever take you for granted now, go upstairs and put the lingerie on, I'll be up in a minute after ordering our food"

"I like it when you're bossy"

"I know, now go on before I make you watch me pleasure myself" she threatened you but all you did was shrug "I always enjoy watching you fall apart by your own hand"

It was true, the image of Wanda doing anything sexual either by herself or with you was like watching angels carve a Picasso, absolutely gorgeous

"That wouldn't be much of a punishment would it? No no you'll be forced to just watch me cum over and over again knowing you can't touch me or yourself-

"You wouldn't?!" The interruption surprised Wanda but she carried on "I would princess and you know I would"

You nodded pulling away from the woman going up the stairs without another word

"Good girl!" She shouted after you and searched through her pickets for her phone only to see multiple messages and missed calls from Nat, Tony and Vision

When she opened the phone a phone call came in

'Nat calling'

She answered speaking into the phone "what do you want-

"Did you punch Carol in the face?! Wanda you can't do that! All for Y/n? I know she's hot and good in bed but seriously? She's not worth it!"

"Nat calm down! Yeah I punched the head bitch and she deserved it no one upsets my girlfriend and gets away with it"

Wanda heard Nat gasp and she realised what she said "girlfriend?! Come on Wanda don't be ridiculous, you can't handle being in a relationship-

Wanda angrily hung up the phone and stormed upstairs, she'll show Natasha, she'll show all of them

Opening the door to the bedroom Wanda softened seeing you ready and waiting in the lingerie you had gotten and her mouth watered "fuck me Y/n this is better than seeing you naked and seeing you naked is the hottest thing in the world"

You blushed but remembered how she looked when she came into the room "were you angry when you came in?"

"Yeah, yeah Nat called me...it doesn't matter, go and get the strap" Wanda took her white shirt off and undid her bra waiting for you to do as she asked "cat got your tongue princess?"

"No, but I don't remember you ever wearing the strap, how about you get it for me malyshka?"

Wanda groaned hearing you speak a little Russian "you know what that does to me baby"

"I do, so how about you be a good girl and get the strap-

Wanda interrupted you "hold on, you're in skimpy lingerie knelt on the bed and I'm stood above you, pretty sure I'm in charge here"

She was right, you looked like the submissive in this situation it made you laugh actually "you're in charge some of the time sure but you like being my little pet"

Wanda groaned "yeah I do, can I do one thing though?"

"Like what?" You asked

"Can I take a picture of you?" The question was so innocent and you couldn't help but giggle "a picture? Do you want to frame it too?

Instead of responding Wanda crawled on top of you kissing your neck and biting the spot "I'm sending a picture to Carol, she needs to see what she's missing out on and will never get"

You thought about it and smirked "I have a better idea, get the strap and we'll take a really good picture"

Wanda was intrigued "oh? What are you thinking?"

"Do you want me to tell you or show you?" Wand was quick to get what you asked and made her way back to you laying on the bed kissing you softly "I'll take the picture when it's perfect"

"Why you?"

You pulled the redhead into your lap making her squeal "because you'll be too busy"

Wanda blushed hard "shit okay then, yeah okay-

***********************************************************

"I can't believe that bitch broke my nose!" Carol was mad like really mad, Wanda wasn't as physically strong as Carol and she was shorter so how the fuck did she manage to break her nose?

"All for a girl who can't order her own food in a restaurant because of her stupid anxiety"

Tony chuckled taking a break form wiping Carol's nose taking away the blood "didn't you want her a bit ago and when she turned you down you called her a whore?"

"Because I heard she's great in bed not because I want to date her" the group dispersed into laughs, Carol laughed as best she could with a broken nose until her phone beeped with a text message and picture attached

'Look at what you're missing out on Carol'

A simple but effective message that made Carol throw her phone onto the couch

"God she's such a bitch!"

Tony grabbed the phone opening it and seeing the picture "woah! She's really sticking it to you Caz”

Nat and Vision peeked over Tony’s shoulder at the picture and Nat whistled “damn I thought Wanda was the top”

“But Wanda’s on top? Doesn’t that mean she is the top?” Oh vision, he was so naive

“Bless you Vis but no, Y/n has the strap on her waist and it’s inside Wanda, Y/n has all the power, she can set the pace fast or slow, thrust hard or soft, that has all the hall markings of a top”

The group stared at Nat dumbfounded “that was so in-depth I’m scared” Tony gave the phone back to Carol who quickly deleted the picture

“Let’s just drink"

*******************************************************

"Are you okay baby?" You teased Wanda laughing when she refused to remove her head from your neck "no" she whispered

"Do you need some water?"

She gave a weak nod but when you tried to move she groaned "move again and I'll slap you"

"If you want water then you need to let me move" moving once again to sit up on the bed she kept to her promise and gave a very weak slap to your cheek "come on Wanda that was pathetic-

"After like 5 orgasms and me doing all the work that's the best you get" all the work? Okay she deserved to be like this

"Now now Wanda no need to be grumpy, come on let's get you some water" Wanda sighed but got up whimpering at the loss of you and standing on shaky legs

"I'm hungry" she said and you laughed "so you're hungry and thirsty? Do you need a bath too? I'll get some candy for you to should I?"

You undid the harness and strap and threw it in a drawer standing behind Wanda kissing her shoulder and wrapping your arms around her "go and shower and I'll order us some food then we can cuddle and watch a film"

"Okay" Wanda turned her head and kissed you back smiling so wide you giggled "you are so not a top-

"you ruined it" she pushed you away going into the bathroom and turning the shower on "so you don't want me to join you?!"

"No I want you to order the food and the cheesecake I've decided I want!"

Moving closer to the bathroom and opening the door you went to join Wanda in the shower but was immediately stopped "literally what did I just say?"

Shrugging you joined her anyway "I don't know, I think I need a reminder, an in-depth reminder"

Kissing her neck Wanda sighed knowing you weren't going to give up "you're insatiable"

*Knock Knock*

"Who the hell is knocking at the door at this time?!" Reluctantly pulling away from Wanda you put on a robe and marched downstairs opening the door

"Oh hi everyone? Did you enjoy the picture?" You smirked and Nat spoke up first "personally I loved it, Vis and Tony thought Wanda was a top but I corrected them because you were wearing the strap therefore had all the control"

"I'm weirded out and impressed all at the same time, well done" you all laughed, well apart from Carol "you did that on purpose"

You raised your eyebrow in a question "and you came all the way over here just to tell me that?"

"Well y-yeah! Why did you do that?!" Carol stuttered and you tried holding in a laugh "you're pathetic Carol and I can't believe I ever wanted to date you"

You slammed the door on her and the others faces making a mental note to apologise to Nat later, turning around you let out a sigh seeing Wanda at the top of the stairs wearing your long shirt twirling a piece of her wet hair in-between her fingers "everything okay?"

You smiled "nothing, come on let's put on a film" she skipped down the stairs into your arms and kissing you "gorgeous girl aren't you?"

Wanda blushed "hm yeahhh"

"Cant believe you're all mine"

"Believe it moya lyubov' now come on stop stalling and let's get some food, I'll be waiting on the couch" she left with a kiss to your cheek

"Yes princess Wanda"

#marvel #mcu #wanda maximoff #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #marvel au #marvel imagine #tony stark #carol danvers #marvel fic

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fractualized · 6 months

Text

Alright. Let's break down this "oh" of an ending. NEGATIVE NANCY, COMING THROUGH

Spoilers, ho!

Ending a story is hard, if they're long or short. Whether you wrap up key threads or leave them open, you want some kind of takeaway that puts a period on things. Even in comics, where we know these characters will go on and on, ideally a story will end in a way that just... fits. Even amateur fic writers have loads of WIPs just sitting there because exactly how to end this damn thing eludes them.

I don't know if Rosenberg had an ending in mind when he started The Man Who Stopped Laughing. I don't know if he decided he'd figure it out by the end of it's year-long run. I don't know if DC Editorial lets people do that; it sounds insane, but if you've been paying attention to their current level of editorial "oversight," which I imagine is supposed to make concurrent titles mesh together reasonably well, I wouldn't be shocked if they let people wing it. Or, more likely, perhaps DC Editorial swooped in and made Rosenberg change the ending he had planned and that's why the result falls flat.

In any case, after 11 issues of enjoying myself, I'm left feeling deflated.

But let's start where #12 does, with the Joker who's been told he's John Keyser, a toxin'd henchmen that the real Joker made into a doppelganger for funsies. He approaches a hotdog vendor.

I'm stuck on "Hello. I've been looking for you"?? I didn't catch that on my first read. Joker has a favorite hotdog vendor? lol

Shut up, Waffles!! All we have is your word for it!!

In any case, hey, Keyser Joker has already been Jokering this long, so yeah, why not keep going? And why not with help from poor woobie Jason, fresh from nearly getting himself killed in Gotham War?

Bruce did not fix Jason at the end of Gotham War, so his adrenaline is still triggering fear in his brain. But Keyser Joker has a solution for that!

It's a tiny dose of Joker toxin to take the edge off of Bruce's programming. Joker makes a point of saying that the effects are only temporary, though. (And like, I assume this is just the quick-fix solution Rosenberg came up with to pull off his own ending when told Bruce's plans for Jason over in the other titles.) Jason is skeptical of this "help," naturally, but Keyser Joker brings up their matching interest: getting rid of the other Joker.

Jason, why you gotta ruin Albert's good time? 🙄

Cut to Red Hood dragging a clown henchman through the streets of Gotham.

But "his" face being blacked out and some of the dialogue clue the reader in: things aren't what they seem.

DERAIL TIME: what is up with this batmobile?

Like from some other angles, it looks sportier, but in most of the panels it looks like an old Buick? lol ANYWAY.

With the flaily way this person jumps off the bike and runs, I was sure that this was Keyser Joker and we might see Batman interact with him. Alas.

It's Ravager, who survived last issue's explosion. She's helping Jason 1) distract Batman and 2) get Albert out of harm's way, far from Keyser Joker's plan.

Naturally Keyser Joker is planning something more destructive than he's led Jason to believe. Also like…

The idea that Keyser Joker really is this John guy, not the real deal, is still not sitting fucking right with me. Seeing him here in another costume, with a goofy death train with mismatched eyes just like his, it feels like a signal that he actually is Joker and Waffles is either lying or mistaken somehow. Like compared to the other Joker, who we haven't seen in a costume? Who left Gotham for weird reasons? I really thought there was going to be a reverse reveal.

And since it doesn't come, I guess it's a good time to mention that! There is no reverse reveal of who the real Joker is. Things get a little muddy later, but…. hrm. HRM.

That said, the other Joker does something pretty dang Jokery: he shows up in a dirigible with his face on it.

Killer Moth and a bunch of clown goons (that aren't supposed to be available because of Gotham War but WHATEVER) attach the dirigible to the train and it's pretty chaotic!

I love when villains are like, "Look I may kill people, but an endangered gorilla?! Get outta here!" 😂

Jason also arrives in style.

I guess he was observing Ravager's distraction?? Which feels like it defeats part of the purpose of having her do the distraction. But then he couldn't have this cool entrance in which he bludgeons people with a motorcycle. Trade offs!

Meanwhile, Real Joker makes it to the front of the train to confront Keyser Joker. One of Real's goons offers to shoot Keyser, but Real Joker wants to make this personal and kills the poor hench so he can do it himself.

Jason coming in like YEEEEEAAAAHHHHH 😎

Then he gets the bad news.

Keyser is as casually suicidal as your average Joker! Also "Real" Joker never acknowledges Red Hood's identity, afaik. It's always Keyser Joker. Details like this got me thinking that reverse reveal was coming, AND YET.

That aside, next comes a fun comedy beat.

Real Joker going right for the hair!

Jason isn't going to let this be the end of it, of course, and once again Killer Moth must suffer at his hands.

Jason shoots so many clowns. Just never the one he wants. 😞

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait wait wait. You're telling me that Bruce knew about the imminent TWO JOKERS situation. But he decided to prioritize a report of Red Hood dragging a clown through the streets. When in the same breath he's saying there are other people coming to the scene with him, so he obviously could've sent someone else? On the same day Batman #139 is like "oooh Bruce is totally onto Joker now"? This is what you're telling me?? Augh.

Well, we can't rely on Batman right now, clearly, so it's up to Jason.

Meanwhile, Keyser Joker has told the other one that he actually does have a secret way off the runaway train safely. After they fight some more, the tune starts to change.

Alright so, this "deal," which would sort of start them back at square one, doesn't bother me because obviously it's on shaky-ass ground and one of them is definitely killing the other before this issue is over. What does bug me is the "franchising" line, for two reasons:

1) Is this supposed to imply that Real Joker is the one who was behind Joker Incorporated in the Batman Incorporated issues, not a third one?

2) I was just SO SURE it was another indication we were getting a reverse reveal. Joker absolutely does not love the franchising idea. That's kind of been the point of this whole series. The genuine Joker in Keyser Joker's hallucination/memory said that having two Jokers around is stupid. HRRRRMMM.

Anyhow, they leave the train together, though the escape plan is literally just jumping off, which has more issues than they bargained for.

So do you think, assuming the Gotham War writers actually communicated at least a little, that Zdarsky asked Rosenberg what he needed Jason for at the end of TMWSL, and Rosenberg was like, "oh I need him to heroically crash a toxic blimp and almost die?" And then Zdarsky was like, "er, I need him to heroically fly a plane into a magic meteor and almost die?" And then they just shrugged and closed the Zoom?

But yeah, the blimp crashes, and I'm sort of confused because I thought that earlier Bruce was saying that even if the toxin gets into the water, it'll still make it's way to the city. So for one thing, it's still exploding in the air and it's still gonna drift. And the parts that dissolve in water are still gonna drift. There's a part to the equation missing here.

But these two are just thrilled at the excitement.

Until the sudden yet inevitable betrayal.

BUT WHO WAS JOKE

Shortly after this, Ravager shows up with Manhunter, who also survived last issue's explosion. (It just doesn't come up at all. Like it doesn't have to, I guess, but it's just weird that there's not a word or wound about it.) Ravager dives into the water looking for Jason, because she instinctually knows he did something grand and dumb. She finds him among the clown bodies and brings him to shore.

Nothing can kill this man! He came back from the dead with nine lives! And also maybe that Lazarus resin from TFZ is still helping, I dunno.

Elsewhere along the shore, what's left of both Jokers' crews find themselves waiting in the same spot for the Joker they expect to be triumphant.

You know what. I'm soured on Waffles now. Leave him.

And then, from the water…

And that's it. That's how it ends. With a sort of snide cop-out?

Like, it's Joker's POV, so yeah, you could say the dickish tone is just him. But following this story for a year, and then seeing it end with simply the old "you'll never know which Joker prevailed," it doesn't feel clever or whatever this is going for. It just feels obnoxious.

Honestly, it feels like the same takeaway as freaking Three Jokers. 😐 That it doesn't matter who Joker is. All the lead-up to this, where maybe we get a tiny bit of depth and development, even if just in this story, eh. Doesn't matter! We're ending this with blah payoff.

On the other hand, the part of about about there being more questions, about this ending not being tidy, makes me think that this is leaving open the possibility that Keyser Joker actually was the real one. After all, we don't get a flashback to the actual events. The events we see are part of a hallucination, and Keyser never said he had clear memories of being the real or the fake one. He just went from assuming he was the real one to taking Waffles' word for it that he was the henchman.

Also, Keyser Joker was always the Joker giving narration. And the narration boxes for the Final Joker at the end remain in his style. So it seems like we actually have a huge indication of which Joker prevailed-- unless we're meant to assume that if the other Joker prevailed, he merely took over the narration.

I mean, this is what we have. So if I can just choose what I want to believe, I'm going to believe both that Keyser was actually the real guy and that he won. But it puts a real sour taste in my mouth to be super engaged with a story and wanting an ending that says something about Joker's character… and the ending is just that one murders the other and you don't know who, neener neener. It's anticlimactic. It's a predictable direction that I thought SURELY Rosenberg wouldn't go in. It feels like a dick move.

And... what else is there to say? So ends my year of consistently buying a comic, I guess. Nothing else has really grabbed me like TMWSL did, though City of Madness looks promising. After the multiverse and Gotham War stuff, I'm not about to start picking up Zdarsky's Batman. #139 had plenty I should enjoy, but it's soured by Zdarsky deciding to bring a canonical take to the three Jokers concept for some ungodly reason.

A new three Jokers take feels extra stupid after a year of a story about two Jokers. And the second Joker in TMWSL isn't even taken into account in Zdarsky's story. Based off that #135 scene, it really looks like he's going to say that Darwin Halliday accidentally copied TKJ Joker somehow. lmao Why. Why do we have to do this. Why can't this just be one of the things that gets retconned away. I just want my murderclown to be fun.

I need to get back to my list of unread older comics. Or read One Operation Joker! I didn't think I was interested, but I think a random goofy premise is actually just what I need.

#the man who stopped laughing #joker #spoilers #my jibber-jabber #sorry for being a downer

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