#[ it's a problem really. an actual problem. ]

[sickslimez]

STILL IN LOVE! #2 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

It’s been about three weeks since you found out about Toji’s new girlfriend. You still haven’t met her or properly seen her yet, but from what the kids tell you, she seems nice. It still felt weird having to get used to the idea that your ex had actually moved on. It was silly to think about, you know. Having been married over five years and getting a divorce, you’d think that means you would be done with your ex, but no, it was quite the opposite. Toji and you were still at each other, flirting, kissing, having sex. Neither of you had essentially ‘moved on’ from one another. It was normal for the both of you. It just never clicked in your mind that he would actually leave and live his life like a divorce is intended to do.

You’ll pin that blame on yourself, thinking too much into what you had with him is what caused you to feel this jealousy in the first place. Having remembered how you were once her spot, being the girlfriend that he took everywhere and did everything with. Hell, shes even met your kids before she’s even met you. It was clear Toji felt serious about her, otherwise he would’ve never brought her around Megumi and Naya. That thought made something twist in your chest.

“Mommy?” Your daughter’s little voice pulled you from your thoughts. Her big eyes watching as you applied your moisturizer in the bathroom mirror, a stuffie in her arms.

“Yes, baby?” You smiled, kneeling down so you were eye level with her.

“Daddy is at the door. He’s asking for you.” She blinked, squeezing the stuffed animal in her arms. Usually Toji just comes on in announced, startling you when he suddenly speaks, but you found it weird that he was now waiting at the door to speak to you. You grabbed your daughter’s hand, walking her to living room where Megumi was watching teen titans and eating popcorn. “Ooo, is that starfire?!” You daughter ran towards her brother, letting go of your hand.

Your eyes landed on Toji who leaning against the door way, dressed in a black hoodie and gray sweats, a stoic look on his face. “Hi, mama,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“Can I talk to you really quick? Outside?” He nodded his head in the direction behind him.

“Yeah.” You nodded, following his footsteps as you shut the front door behind you. “Something wrong?” You looked at him.

“I won’t be able to take the kids this weekend,” he sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Sorry.”

“What do you mean? Why?” Your brows furrowed, standing there confused.

“I got…things to do,” he meekly answered. He kept his answer as vague as possible leaving little to nothing for you to go off of, but deep down you had a feeling it had something to do with his new girlfriend.

“Things to do? Like what?” You questioned, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue.

“Nothing important,” he quickly replied, sucking in a breath.

“If it’s not important then why can’t you take the kids? They’re not gonna be happy about this,” you try to explain. You couldn’t understand why he was being so secretive towards you all of sudden, especially when it came to his time with the children.

“Can you just accept the fact I can’t take them? Please?” He seemed to be getting impatient, rolling his eyes every time you questioned him on something. It was obviously bothering him.

“Does it have to do with your new girlfriend?” There was no harm in asking him, curiosity getting the better of you.

“That’s none of your business.” He tone was rough and stern, almost like you hit a nerve.

“Oh?” Your brows raised in surprise in his sudden change of attitude. “I think it is my business considering this involves your time with our children and the fact you bring her around our kids, Toji. It’s a simple yes or no question.”

He let out a scoff, averting his gaze in a different direction. A sigh left his lips as he ran his hands down his face. “Here you fucking go,” he groaned. “You’re getting jealous.”

“I’m sorry?” Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him.

“You’re getting jealous of her, aren’t you?” His question hung in the air for several seconds as you stared at him in disbelief.

“Here you go assuming shit like always. See this is why we can never have a normal conversation, cause you always wanna start something! Where the fuck did that even come from?” You were starting to see just why you and Toji got divorced. There was some truth to his words, about being jealous. Though, you were too stubborn to admit such a thing to someone like him. What good would it do you anyway? He’d probably just laugh in your face and walk off. “Have your weekend to yourself, Toji. I’ll find someone else to take care of Megumi and Naya.” You turn around to enter the house, not having the energy to argue with him.

“Woah, what do you mean someone else?” His hand is wrapped around your wrist as he pulls you back towards him. “Why can’t you?”

“Cause I have things planned! Pretty sure Shoko won’t mind watching them.” You snatch your wrist back from him, only for him to grab onto you again, pulling you back. “What, Toji?!” You ask in annoyance, sighing loudly.

“You got things planned? With who?” It almost made you laugh how he was the one asking so many questions, trying to peak in on your life.

“That’s none of your business,” you casually say as you stare him. His jaw clenches, finally letting go of your wrists. Both of you stared at each other for what seemed like several minutes when in actuality it was only a mere second. You had a date on Saturday night, someone you met while you were out shopping for groceries. He was handsome, and kind enough to ask you to a dinner, even offered to pay. It would be wrong if you said no because you wanted to say yes, so you did. His name was Kento Nanami. “Goodnight, Toji.” With those words, you walked back into the house and shut the door behind you, locking it.

“Mommy, what did daddy want?” You daughter asked, peaking up from behind the couch.

“I’ll tell you two tomorrow, just keep watching your show.” You smiled at the both of them, quickly rushing to your room to try shake off the funny feeling that you had. Why couldn’t he just be upfront with you? Tell you the truth? You wouldn’t mind if you he needed time to himself, but to come out and be secretive about it was a different story. Then, to start arguing with you simply reminded you of the times he and you fought over the stupidest things. Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten so defensive, but you couldn’t help it.

You tried not to dwell on the situation too much, instead thinking about the date you soon had. You got walked over to your closet, skimming through the hanging clothes in search of a perfect dress to wear. Something elegant yet sexy is what you were going for. You didn’t want to wear anything too over the top in fear of scaring him away, but you wanted something that also showed him you weren’t a prude.

Finally, you landed on your favorite black dress, the corners of your mouth forming into a smile as your eyes scanned over the piece of fabric. “Perfect.”

series masterlist

tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @nnnancyr @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Hellllllooooo 😁

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The next morning comes too soon and with too little sleep. Despite your efforts, you couldn’t lay still long enough to get much rest. Every time you sunk into the shallows of sleep, you were just as quickly awoken by visions of the unknown. You don’t know anything beyond the time at which you’ll set off to your fate; nine o’clock. 

You don’t need an alarm. You're already awake and alert. You sit up and rub your temples until the thumping dulls. You can’t entirely shake the pulsing thrum.  

You drag yourself to your feet and cross to your dresser. You open each drawer, sifting through the contents with disappointment. You don’t have anything that nice. You pick out your nicest jeans and a halter top Roxie gave you. You’ll be sweating your bum off in the denim but you don’t have many skirts or even shorts. 

You can hear your mother getting ready for her own day of work. Of actual work. You wait until she’s done to claim the bathroom. She’s off only a couple minutes after, calling out a goodbye and I love you that you return in a higher pitch than you mean to. 

You dress and tidy yourself up as best you can. Your bedtime shower did little to help you sleep but at least it saves you a step. You spritz yourself with strawberry body spray and try to smile at your reflection as you put your toothbrush back.

Sigh. Did Bucky really call you sexy? 

It’s not even eight. Lots of time to wallow in anxiety and self-doubt. You pace around the front room, ready to go, but not really. You have your purse with the fringe and your least-worn flats. They pinch around your toes but they’re cute; pink loafers with a little leather rose on each. 

You cradle your phone then squeeze it hard enough to make it light up. Only a few minutes. Or not. You hear a car outside and peer through the curtain. You recognise the vehicle. Shoot, time to go. Oh, god, what are you doing? 

You lock the door behind you and turn to face the gallows. Each step is filled with sand, your legs are heavy and your feet clunky. As you near, Merv appears to open the door for you. You’re surprised but not to find Bucky waiting within. 

As you slide onto the seat, he watches you and rumbles out a silty, ‘morning, doll.’ You aren’t ready. You don’t know why but you thought the drive would give you time to toss away the last of your caution but you’re clinging to it like a raft. You feel entirely powerless. More than you ever have. 

What he promises, money; you always assumed it would give you more control, that it would solve all your problems, but it’s really just a new set of problems. You settle onto the seat as the door closes and buckle your seat belt, focusing on the simple task. He stretches his arm over the back of the seat as you lean against it and his heat seethes into you. 

“Good morning,” you force out at last. 

“That’s a cute shirt,” he purrs as his hand wanders down to tickle your bare shoulder, your nude bra strap showing garishly. “Would look better without this.” He touches the strap and you make a noise. “But I can wait for that, doll.” 

You stare forward. The divider between you and the front seat is up. You are completely alone. You feel your heart about to swell and split. 

“I’ll admit, I was up late last night,” his arms shifts slightly as he leans forward. You only notice then the scent of coffee and two cups in the holders behind the console. “Got a pick-me-up to start the day. Gotta be awake for you, doll.” 

He takes one of the cups and you realise, he means to offer it to you. You feel too bad to tell him you’re not much for coffee. “It’s called a blue dream tea latte? I think it’s blueberry or something. I saw it in some ad online. Sounded like something you’d like.” 

“Oh, thanks, er, it does?” You murmur. You’d seen the same promotion on Pinterest. It’s a rather strange coincidence that he’d think of you. “I... I’ve never tried a tea latte.” 

“Doll, I’m gonna give you lots of things you never had, take you places you never been,” he flutters his fingers across your neck as he retracts his arm. He grabs the other cup and groans as he sits back, blowing over the plastic lid. “So tell me,” his arms presses against yours. He seems so big sitting so close, “where’ somewhere you always wanted to go?” 

“Er, I don’t...” your eyes drift over as Merv drives lazily through your neighbourhood, “know. I never... thought about it.” 

“Anything you always wanted to do? Skydiving? Wait, yeah, you don’t like being high up. Makes sense, being so close to the ground, huh?” He chuckles and leans into you playfully, “you an outdoorsy type? You like hiking?” 

“Um, I don’t know, I think... I like walking in the park sometimes,” you hold the cup with both hands, letting the warmth flow into your cold veins. You can smell the blueberry and you instinctively take wife through the slot of the lid. 

“Mm, don’t worry, we’ll figure it out, doll,” he assures you and sips again, swallowing thickly before he lets out a thigh. “I think you’ll like what I got planned, even if you don’t know what you want. I’ve always been good at figuring that out, you know?” 

“Oh?” 

He laughs again, “you’re so cute, doll.” He looks over at you, “how’s the latte? Did I do good?” 

Your eyes nearly cross as you stare at the cup. You bring it up carefully and take a dainty sip. You almost moan at the creamy but sweet taste. You pull the lid away and dab your lips with the back of your hand, turning to give him a wide-eyed look. 

“It’s delicious,” you smile. 

He grins and tilts his head, “see, doll, you don’t even gotta say it. I know exactly what you need.” 

You’re breathless. Something about his tone, his words, mingles and coils around your throat. It’s like one of those old Wattpad fantasies you devoured in your teen years, those escapist dreams of having everything taken care of and not having to think, and yet, it’s too real. You take another drink to keep busy. 

“After our first stop, we’ll eat,” he says, “that okay? You’re not ravenous?” 

His words make you flinch. You blink and shake your head, “I’m okay.” 

“Sounds good, doll,” he relaxes and once more extends his arms over your shoulders, this time hugging you closer.  

He turns his head and nuzzles you, making you squirm. You’re rigid, paralysed by the proximity. You’ve never been this close with anyone. He still feels like a stranger. 

“Mmm, strawberries,” he growls, “I like that.” 

You giggle and barely keep a hold of your cup. You really can’t understand it. You never had interest from anyone. You didn’t even really have friends in school. Sometimes, you even think Roxie hates you, and your mom, well, she loves you because you have to. You just can’t comprehend what he sees. 

“Thanks...” you wisp. 

“No, thank you, doll,” he drawls, “for making my morning brighter.” 

🃏

You doubt Bucky does anything in half-measures. Merv pulls up to another upscale building and you can’t help but gape out at the white brick facade. Everything is so big and fancy and better than you. You’re so out of place in his world that you can’t but wait for the moment he decides to kick you out of it. 

The white-haired driver gets out to open the door. As you step out, your loafer slips off your heel and your foot slides down the curb. You trip outward, bracing yourself for impact, but don’t hit the ground. A hand wraps around your arm and pulls you back onto the seat. You cringe, happy at least that Bucky can’t see your face as he clings to you. 

“You okay, doll?” He asks, “you hurt yourself?” 

“No, no,” you wriggle in his grasp, “I’m fine. It was just... stupid.” 

“Not stupid, good thing I was here to catch you, huh?” He reluctantly releases you, a caress along the back of your arm, “now you be careful. You need me to get out and carry you--” 

“No, no!” You grab the car and push yourself out, fixing your shoe as you get your bearings. “Really, I’m okay.” 

He chuckles and follows. It he laughing at you? You turn to face him as he steps up on the curb. It’s easy when he’s sitting to forget how small you really are. 

“All good, doll, I just can’t have you getting banged up,” he says as he gestures you across the wide sidewalk. 

You peer back as Merv shuts the door and Bucky brings his hand to your lower back, just like that woman at the casino. His gentle touch sends a chill up your back despite the beaming heat from above. 

“Promise, you’re gonna love this.”  

He urges you on to the front doors. They are made of iron, twisted in the middle, and two long handles curlicue in the middle. He stops and presses the little silver button along the side, a buzz muffled within. You wait, fidgeting, and presses his palm firmly to your back. You still yourself and clutch your bag tighter. 

The interior doors, dark walnut, open inward and a woman appears within with a particularly snobbish look. She’s tall with straight shoulders and a Chanel style suit. She unlocks the iron doors and opens the right one. She eyes Bucky past her hooked nose as she lifts it higher. 

“Mr. Barnes,” she greets. 

“Meredith,” he returns, “thanks for having me.” 

“Only for you,” she assures as her eyes fall upon you, “you’ve brought...” 

“Someone very special. A connoisseur like yourself,” he insists, curtailing whatever she thought to remark. 

“Yes, certainly she would be,” the woman accepts with a sniff and steps back, “please, come in. Should I have Charlene make tea?” 

“I don’t think we will require it. Doll?” He pauses as he confirms with you. 

You shake your head, “no thank you.” 

“Very well, follow me, then,” she spins and struts away.  

Bucky nudges you inside first, following through the narrow door. As he comes up parallel to you, a shadow appears to close the doors behind him. The whole experience is eerie. What is going on? 

You follow the woman, Meredith, up the wooden stairs with a rose-printed runner along the center of the steps. At the top, you smell the definitive scent of books. She directs you into a room, opening the door but standing back to let you through. Bucky nods and thanks her one last time. 

“You know the rules, Barnes,” she warns. 

“Been a while...” he mutters. 

“You remember,” she rebukes. 

He laughs and pulls the door shut as she retreats, her heels clicking through the wall until they taper off to nothing. A record player drones from the corner and the window lets in the yellow sunshine, adding to the illumination of glass-shaded lamps. You peer around, as curious as you are confused. 

Bucky brushes by you, knuckles rubbing against your waist, and he approaches the antique table at the center. Several stacks of books sit neatly piled atop it. You approach sheepishly and read the spines. You recognise the titles though you’ve never read any of them. As you think, you realise that these are the same books you have on your reading app. How could he know? 

Your mouth falls open as you keep your hands folded together. You don’t dare to touch anything. It all seems so nice and likely expensive. And with how Meredith spoke, you’re certain she wouldn’t appreciate you putting anything out of place. 

“She’s a book collector. I came here a few years back to buy some first editions for my sister,” he picks up a book. 

“How...” you bend to read further down a stack. 

“A lot you can learn about a person online,” he flutters through the pages, “isn’t there?” 

You look at him and blanch. 

“I know you Googled me. Everyone does,” he snickers, “it’s fine. Comes with the territory. But you...” he snaps the book shut and comes around the table, holding it out to you, “all I found were some books and a few pictures of a cat.” 

You take the book and stare at the cover. Those pictures were old. Kai died at the end of high school. You run your hand over the embossed title; Middlemarch. You remember adding it after binging and old British series. 

“My cat. She’s gone now,” you shrug. 

“Sorry to hear that, doll,” he says. “I might know someone who can cheer you up, though.” 

“It’s... fine. She was a good cat,” you shrug. 

“Hm, yeah, but a friend, all the same,” he says, “so, you want it?” 

“What?” You peek at the book again. 

“All of them? I can have them packed and sent to your house.” 

“Huh?” Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull, “my mom...” 

“Ah, it’s fine, we can sneak em in,” he assures. 

“No, no, I couldn’t... it’s too much. Very nice but... must be... a lot.” 

“It is, doll. Meredith gave me a damn headache tryna get in here on short notice but I did it,” he leans a hand on the table and hooks one foot over the other. “You gotta at least pick one thing to walk out of here with.” 

“Oh, I... I wasn’t meaning... I didn’t mean to be ungrateful,” you rub your thumbs along the edges of the book, “sorry.” 

“It’s fine. I know you’re not, doll. You’re... adjusting. I’m doing my best not to scare ya away but you gotta bite the carrot a little here,” he says, “so grab a few and we’ll go have some breakfast.” 

“I...” you look between him and the table. You have no doubt that he went to a lot of effort for this. For you. You can’t just throw it back in his face. “Thank you, it’s...” you turn to face the table and lean in to see more of the books. You let yourself smile, “it’s wonderful. No one’s ever... except mom...” 

“Get used to it, doll,” he steps closer, his hand once more on your back, “with a smile like that, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing it.” 

[strlvvr]

my best friend's brother (is the one for me) - matt sturniolo x reader

where y/n has had a crush on her best friend nick’s brother for years

word count: 1.1k words

“i’m not setting you up with my brother.” nick said as he was unlocking the door to his house.

“oh come onnnn,” i whined walking into the house behind him, “he’s so fine though.”

“i’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that actually.” he laughed as matt came out of his room. i stopped for a second or two staring at him. i took in what he was wearing, grey fresh love sweatpants and a tight tank top. his hair all over the place, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"what did she say?" he questioned with tiredness in his voice. "nothing, nothing." i quickly replied eyeing nick not to say anything to his brother.

"you do know it's two p.m. right?" nick asked matt seeing the boy still in pajamas and obviously tired. 

"and? can't a man sleep in?" he said sarcastically. i couldn't help but laugh as i put the snacks me and nick had just bought in the fridge. "why are you laughing miss ‘sleep until four p.m.’? you can't be saying anything here." matt eyed me making me stop laughing as soon as he spoke.

"hey now, i haven't done that in months. didn't you just do that, let me see, yesterday?" i retorted watching him roll his eyes at my comment. 

i've been friends with the triplets since high school and moved out to l.a. around the same time as them. we became closer with the move, all of us looking for houses and making sure whatever houses we found weren't too far from each other.

i've had a crush on matt since we first met. only recently have i realized it's way more than a crush. i find myself craving him and his presence. we've always had more of a flirty friendship, which didn't help any of my feelings towards him. his nicknames for me bordering pet names, sweetheart, princess, baby.

“whatever you say, princess.” 

“of course we can get food, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to not live by you, baby.”

of course i never believed he ever meant anything by it, but they still made my stomach flutter and my heart skip a beat. the way he said it so casually but yet so lovingly never failed to have me in my head wondering if he really meant what he said.

"what'd you guys get me?" chris asked the second he walked up and saw the bags, no "how are you guys" or "how was the trip".

"nothing. you said you didn't want anything. all four times we asked you." nick said after grabbing one of the drinks we had just bought. i grabbed the pepsi i knew he wanted, along with some of his usual snacks and threw them to him.

"see at least y/n loves me." chris said to nick and then stuck his tongue out at him.

"did you get me anything?" matt asked walking over to me, not stopping til he was right behind me. my breath hitched as he put his hand on my waist.

"yeah, a root beer and the food you texted me about." i replied as calmly as i could, secretly hoping he wouldn't leave his spot to grab them. 

"thank you, baby." he whispered into my ear before he pulled away to go find everything, his hand trailing my lower back as he walked away.

he knew what he was doing. there was no way he didn't. i know he feels the way my body shifts into him, the way my breathing gets heavier, the effect only he seems to have on me.

“what are we watching tonight?” i asked while walking over to put my drink on the coffee table, and then grabbing my blanket from the basket. 

“what about retribution?” matt suggested sitting in his usual spot on the couch next to me.

“you only wanna watch that for liam neeson.” i told him, grabbing the remote to put on something that wasn’t a liam neeson movie.

“yeah, but he’s just so good.” matt emphasized, moving his arms around trying to make a point.

“what about the crow?” i asked everyone, only to be met with groans from everyone.

“yeah for the thousandth time? no thanks.” chris said, rolling his eyes and throwing popcorn at me. 

“yeah and it’s my turn to choose a movie tonight so i don’t see the problem here..” i told him while going to amazon prime and searching up the movie. 

as the movie got to my favorite scene, i moved closer to matt to lay on his shoulder. as i was moving he pulled his arm up for me to be closer. as the movie got more gruesome, i felt him hiding in my hair so he didn’t have to watch.

“something funny?” matt asked once he felt me laughing.

“yeah, you. you do this every time at this exact part too.” i looked up at him still laughing a bit, only to find him already looking at me. i put my head back down onto his chest to hide the blush creeping onto my cheeks, directing my attention back to my favorite movie.

“i don’t know why you like this movie so much, it’s weird.” nick complained, obviously intrigued in the movie though. 

i roll my eyes, “is that why you’re still watching?”

as the movie went on and i got more tired, i moved down into matt’s lap and put my feet up on the couch. once i was comfortable, i felt matt start to shift around underneath me. 

“can you stop moving around, you’re bothering me.” i almost yelled at him, while trying to stay comfortable.

“sorry sweetheart.” he said, moving his hand to my hair, slightly massaging my head. after a couple minutes of that, i was starting to fall asleep. i woke up to him adjusting himself, yet again. this time he got up and started walking towards the bathroom. 

“where are you going?” i whined, missing the comfort of him.

“nowhere, just the bathroom.” he said quietly, before rushing off to the bathroom. i moved into his spot, trying to keep what was left of the warmth before he got up. i squint my eyes in confusion, wondering why he rushed off so quickly. but i decided to ignore it and got up and went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. i heard something behind me when i closed the fridge, i turned and saw a disheveled matt behind me. 

“you okay?” i questioned once i took in the sight in front of me.

“all good, sweetheart.” he answered, with a familiar look in his eye that made my knees weak. 

“you wanna grab me another drink while we’re here?” he asked, still staring at me.“oh yeah, sure,” i turn back to the fridge to grab whatever was in there for him. as i handed it to him i couldn’t help but watch him take the can, the way his fingers wrapped around it had my mind going places it shouldn’t be going.

especially not about my best friend’s brother.

tag list:

@beersangel @whoseyouare @wh0schl0

[forever-rogue]

i saw you wanted tasm Peter requests and I’m here to provide! 😭✨💕

how about a fake dating-ish meet cute where you feel scared walking home bc of some sketchy looking people following you and you grab Peter’s (who lives in the same building as you) hand and ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he readily goes along with it bc he’s always had a crush on you. I just think he would be so sweet and worried later when you get home bc you’d looked super scared

AN | No but I love this idea!! It’s sort of a meet-cute!❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | mild language

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't drunk.

Not drunk-drunk anyway but mildly tipsy. Or wholly tipsy if you were being completely honest with yourself. 

Anyways, that wasn't the problem, at least not entirely. Walking home through New York, late at night and tipsy by yourself, a young woman on her own, probably wasn't the best idea. But the party had dragged on and on and your friends had already left with their…friends for the night, and you were tired, hungry, and bored.

So you decided to walk home. You somehow managed to convince yourself that brisk evening stroll would make you feel better. You hadn't been wrong for the most part but as once you got closer to your apartment building, an uneasy feeling started settling into your stomach. 

You looked around, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but you could see that there were two guys that seemed to be watching you. You ignored it for a bit, but when you noticed that they seemed to cross every street that you could, and turned all the same corners, you grew worried. 

Trying to keep the panic at bay and act normal proved to be difficult. You thought for a moment that you might have been paranoid or overreacting but you'd seen enough true crime documents to know that it was better to be safe than sorry.

Your salvation came in the form of the man that lived in the apartment across from you. 

You vaguely knew him and were almost positive his name was Peter Parker. You just hoped right now that he'd help. 

Speeding up, you caught up to him a few moments, quickly reaching for his arm and stepping in front of him. 

“Hi, hi,” your eyes were wide and he immediately grew concerned, “I know we don't really know each but we live in the same building, you're actually across the hall from me. I - this is - can you please pretend to be my boyfriend? Just for a little bit? There's these two guys that have been following me for a while now and I'm-”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, gently cutting you off as he instinctively reached for your hand. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted as you laced your fingers through his and fell into step with him, “I'll take care of you.”

You squeezed his arm, “thank you.”

He nodded and turned around a corner to see the men you were referring to. When he spotted the duo that you had to be talking about, he shot them a warning glare. At a few moments, he could see realization cross their features before they seemingly altered their path.

He made sure to keep an eye out on the rest of the way back to the building. Luckily he didn't see them again. He hoped that they hadn't decided to go and find someone else. 

It felt like you could breathe again as you pulled your hand from his and turned to face him. You were taken aback for a moment by how beautiful he was. Sure, you'd been him around the building plenty of times before but you'd never gotten to look at him this closely. 

“Thank you,” your voice was soft - gentle - was you offered him a small smile, “I thought that maybe I was going crazy for a bit and then I kept seeing them. I just didn't want anything to happen. Thank you for probably saving me from them. It's, sorry, you're Peter, right?”

“I am,” he nodded as you offered him your hand for a proper shake and introduction. He said your name and you looked at him in surprise, “we've been neighbors a while and I just…caught it sometime. I'm glad I found you too. Are you sure you're okay?”

“I'm cold, hungry, and slightly buzzed but I'm alright,” you promised, “thanks to you. I swear I owe you big time.”

“You don't owe me anything,” he insisted as he started to shrug off his zip-up sweater. He'd noticed the dress you were wearing and wondered if you'd been cold. He held it out to you, causing you to look at him with sweet eyes, “take it. I don't want you to be cold.”

You already knew better than to argue with him so you gratefully it took and slipped it on, immediately overwhelmed by his delicious scent, “thank you, Peter.”

“Do you want to get something to eat?” He wasn't entirely sure if he'd meant to ask, but it just sort of blurted out, “I-I was thinking about ordering some pizza.”

Liar. He was a damned dirty liar. He hadn't thought about pizza but he also hadn't wanted to let you just leave to go to your apartment. Not now, not yet.

“Yeah?” Your face lit up and he nodded shyly. He'd order the whole pizzeria if you wanted just from that smile alone, “that sounds good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Realistically, you probably shouldn't have just trusted Peter so readily, especially since you'd just had the run-in with the creeps on your walk home. But there was something about Peter that told you that he was trustworthy. 

So you didn't hesitate to follow him up the stairs to the floor where both of your apartments were. You stopped instinctively at your door and Peter paused for a moment.

“Listen, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything,” you appreciated the fact that he seemed to be able to read your mind, “do you want to meet on the fire escape once the pizza's here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded softly, “I'll see you in a little bit.”

“Sounds good,” he started to open his door but quickly turned around, “wait! I didn't even ask you what kind of pizza you like.”

Your laugh was pretty as you turned and gave him your requests. He offered you a small salute before both of you went into your respective apartments. You closed the door gently and leaned against it, letting out a small sigh.

This evening had definitely taken a turn that you hadn't been expecting. But somehow, it turned out a lot better than you had imagined. Plus, you finally got to really meet and speak to the cute boy next door. He'd caught your eye from the moment he'd moved into the building, but you'd never quite managed to work up the courage to say anything besides the neighborly hello here and there. And now…now you were wearing his sweater and going to have pizza with him.

You almost danced to your bedroom and spent entirely too much time trying to pick out something comfortable but cute. You wanted to be warm and cozy but didn't want to look like you were trying too hard.

You ended up settling on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, but pulled Peter's sweater back on. You wanted to hang onto it for as long as possible. You managed to slide on your slippers as you heard a knock on your door.

“Pull yourself together,” you hissed at your reflection, “and act normal…somewhat normal.”

Slowing your walk to the door, you opened it in an attempt to look casual. Peter had the same idea and had changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. You almost choked on your spit at the sight. What a bastard.

“Ready for some pizza?” You nodded as you followed him towards the fire escape at the end of the hall. He slid open the window and stepped out, offering you his hand to help you. You didn't hesitate to take his hand, trying not think too much about his large his hand was compared to yours, “nice sweater by the way.”

“You better watch it or I'm going to steal it forever,” Peter really liked the sound of your laugh. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it with him forever. 

“Keep it,” he insisted sweetly, “looks better on you anyway.”

“Stop,” you groaned as you sat down, gently pushing his side, “that's how you get a girl to call in love with you.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow as his cheeks pinked, “is it working then?”

He didn't know why he felt so bold or what had gotten into him but he was feeling something. Maybe it was just your magnetic presence but there was something about you that made him feel so warm and comfortable.

“Peter,” you weren't about to admit that the answer was yes so you just scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “I should have said makes all other girls fall in love.”

“Mhmm,” he opened the pizza box and nudged angled it towards you, “dig in. I hope you like it because it's from one of my favorite places.”

“It better be good then or I'm afraid I'll never speak to you again,” you teased, grabbing a slice and taking a big bite. Peter watched you with an amused as you quickly realized that this was indeed delicious pizza. You quickly finished the rest of the slice before offering him a nod, “alright you've passed this test. The pizza is delicious.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“It's getting pretty late,” you said softly as you looked at the softly glowing screen of your phone. It was a lot later than you had realized; the two of you had ended up talking for hours, the pizza all but gone, “we should probably head inside.”

“Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly, “you're right.”

“I had a good time though,” you promised as he nodded shyly, “thanks for saving me tonight…and all of this. It's times like this that remind me that not all people are terrible.”

“It's no problem,” he insisted, “I'm glad I was there when you needed me. I had a good time tonight, regardless of how we got here.”

“Me too,” you offered his shoulder a squeeze before heading back inside and waiting for him to do the same, “I'll see you around, Peter.”

“See you around,” the two of you went into your respective apartments and you quietly shut the door, trying to hold in your sounds of excitement. Your night had taken a complete 180 but you weren't complaining. You'd been wanting to meet the boy for the last couple of years and now that you'd gotten to spend some time with him, you only wanted more.

The question then was - how do you spend more time with Peter Parker without making it obvious you might have fallen in love with him?

You’d figured that out sometime later. Right now you were going to soak all of the good feelings you had into your body as you went to bed.

Little did you know that just across the hall, Peter was doing the exact thing. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You tried to run into Peter after that evening whenever you could. You would slowly leave for work in the morning and then take your sweet time coming home in the hopes that you would run into him somewhere in the building. But over the next couple of weeks, you managed to have no luck. It suddenly seemed like he had an opposite schedule of yours. For a moment you wondered if it was on purpose, but you knew that he wouldn’t do that.

Peter was hoping for the same thing; work and his…extracurricular activities kept him busier than ever. He had to be at the lab early in the mornings and often wasn’t coming home till the midnights hours. There were a few times when he’d contemplated knocking on your door, even if he just got to see your pretty face for a few moments. But he didn’t want to disturb you so he kept on waiting for the right moment to see you again. 

It turned out that the right moment happened to be when you were getting ready to go out with some friends one evening and Peter was coming home, looking run down and tired. His face and entire being lit up at the sight of you. Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure that he would be able to hear it (unbeknownst to you, he definitely heard it) or it would burst out of your chest. 

“Hey-”

“Hi-” the two of you spoke at the same time before looking at each other sheepishly. You felt like your entire face was on fire as you looked at your feet for a moment to study your nerves, “hey Peter. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know,” he tried to contain his excitement when he realized that you had been missing him as well, “I can’t believe our luck. For years we saw each other all the time and now…nothing. Kind of feels like the universe is laughing at us.”

“I thought about coming over,” you admittedly sheepishly, “but I didn’t want to bug you. I wasn’t sure how you late you were working or…yeah.”

“I thought about the same thing,” he confessed as you grinned at him, “but I’ve been working longer hours so I’d get home late and didn’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t have been a bother,” you shrugged it off, trying to make it seem like no big deal when in fact it was a huge deal.

“Good to know,” he huffed a small laugh before clearing his throat, “I should, ugh, let you go. I don’t want to keep you from your date or whatever plans you have.”

“It’s not a date,” you said quickly, wanting to shut that train of thinking down right away, “I was just going to meet a few friends for dinner and drinks.”

“Cool,” he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to hear that, “I hope you have fun.”

“Unless you’re not busy and want to get dinner,” you only had a bit of courage left as you got the words, wondering how he’d react, “like together I mean.”

“I’m not busy, I’m free,” his stomach felt like it was doing backflips, “but are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll just text my friends,” you waved your hand dismissively as you pulled out your phone, “they won’t mind. Trust me.”

They really wouldn’t. They’d been hoping and rooting for you to get with the pretty boy next door for some time now. 

“Cool,” that was an understatement, “let me just go and change and then we can go. I’ll come to yours in a few minutes.

“Okay,” you breathed nervously, unable to hide the smile on your face.

“Okay,” he agreed softly, his eyes and smile big and pretty, “luckily this time it’ll only be a few minutes and not weeks.”

“It was too long.”

“Definitely.”

[calliopesdiary]

hola!! would you be able to write a one shot with your first date with remus? maybe you’re both a little shy and nervous and just trying so hard to impress one another and there’s a lot of blushing and cute moments :)

hii! ofc, lovely! (screaming cause i got my first request 🥳🥳)

—•—

Check Yes, Juliet

synopsis: when Marlene sets two polar opposites up to go on a date

contents: fem!reader, reader likes bows, badboy!remus, just cute adorable idiots in love (:, mentioned dorlene!, readers favorite color is red

warnings: none!

a/n: this fic is inspired by the song “Check Yes, Juliet” by We The Kings! thanks for requesting!

“MARLS… ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” you ask from your position in front of your mirror, carefully tying red ribbon into your hair.

“of course it is, y/n. he’ll love you! besides, opposites attract!” Marlene assured you, carefully applying red lipstick to her plush lips.

“i was a little… hesitant when Pandora insisted I go on a date with Dorcas, y’know, cause we were so different. but look at us— we’re about to hit our eight months!”

you nodded silently, checking yourself out in the mirror before finishing your eyeliner.

once Marlene had gotten picked up from your shared flat, you laced up your shoes and got your things together.

and that’s when you heard the knock.

the special knock.

the knock you had been waiting three days for.

your hand nervously gripped the doorknob and twisted it open.

“hi.”

“hi.”

you didn’t mean to say “hi” in unison, now what do you say? crap he was supposed to say hi first and then—

“you look gorgeous.”

you got broken out of your thoughts, your eyes hitting his with an awkward gaze.

“me?”

he chuckled, “who else would i be talking to?”

“o-oh, right, o-of course.” you blushed out of embarrassment.

you could cue some crickets here, you could tell he was nervous, you’ve never seen the resident bad boy so nervous.

“these are for you.”

he held out a bouquet of luscious roses, red, your favorite color.

“w-wow… Remus… these are beautiful…”

“just like you.” his cheeks lit up in a rosy shade, almost as if a painter had graced him with his paintbrush.

he’d definitely rehearsed that.

you let out a soft giggle, before stepping out the front door and walking with him to his car.

you guys ended up going to this adorable vintage diner near his house, you felt like you could talk to him for hours, except you were so nervous.

he even paid for the food, he paid! (even though the guy should totally pay on first days but that’s just me 🤷‍♀️)

“don’t worry, darlin’, i’ll pay”

“Remus i was gonna pay—“

“shh, keep sipping on your slushy” you blushed, you needed to get this blushing problem under control.

“so, do you have any hobbies?”

sweet of him to ask, but you felt as if you were a bit basic.

“oh, i play electric guitar so.. i guess that’s my hobby, what about you?”

you smiled, god he already loved your smile, it was so sweet, especially since your tongue was red from the cherry slushy you had been sipping on.

“you play guitar? sick!— i mean— cool.. i play bass.”

“bass? i’ve always wanted to play bass!— i mean— that’s super cool, maybe we can play together sometime?” you were quick to get flustered by your own words.

damn, you were being bold.

“i’d like that.”

he tossed some stones into the river underneath the bridge you guys had found, your legs dangling gently off the edge as you sipped on your slushy.

“do you read at all?” you asked, reading being one of your most favorite things.

“i do— actually.”

“really?

“i know it seems unlikely, but yeah, i do.”

“well.. what are your favorites?”

“it’s hard to choose, but i’ve always liked the classics— you know, like.. Romeo and Juliet.”

“Remus, you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you, the coolest guy in town, reads Romeo and Juliet.” he let out a chuckle.

“it’s true.” he shrugged, flashing his signature grin at you.

“do… you have a favorite?”

and just like that you both had spent quite a few hours just sitting on that bridge and talking, you never thought it could really get better than that.

“i know we already talked about hobbies, but have you got any more?”

“i mean— i skateboard, ”

“you skateboard?! damn, i’m really trying to make myself sound cool here but you aren’t helping.” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

“oh come on, it’s skateboarding, it’s not that cool…” Remus itched his neck sheepishly.

“i’m sure there has to be something cool about you.” he teased, his big hand ruffling your hair.

“i don’t know what that could possibly be.” you shrugged.

“well… you wear these beautiful bows everytime i see you walking down the street, and you told me that you like to stay up all night and play video games.” he remembered everything..

“that’s not cool, that’s being a loser.”

“you are about the farthest thing from a loser, y/n.”

you froze a bit, that was so… sweet.

“t-thanks.” you blushed, again. (no surprise)

“i’ll have to teach you how to skate, though.”

“i’d love that.”

the drive back to your apartment was nothing short of a dream, music blasting, turns out you both had similar music taste.

“billy joel has to be a gift from the heavens.” you remarked loudly, your hair blowing in the breeze, the top down on his convertible.

“i can play uptown girl on guitar!” he responded, a wide smile on his face.

“really?”

“yeah!” the excitement in his voice made you blush almost the same color as your slushy.

“that’s so cool!”

he smiled wider, looking over to you, your pretty face lit up with street lights.

“i write poetry.” you confessed, you’ve definitely come out of your shell.

“you need to show me, sometime.” he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex.

“i… had a great time with you today.” you were so smiley.

“i had a great time with you, too.”

as the gentleman Remus John Lupin was, he walked you to your door.

“i guess this is goodbye.” he sighed lightly, not really wanting his night to end with you.

“thanks for.. everything—“

before you could even finish speaking, his lips were on yours.

your brain imploded, your eyes fluttering shut into the soft kiss Remus had just blessed you with.

your lips tasted of cherry and lip gloss, but he really didn’t mind. his nimble hands crept to your waist as your hands fell to his shoulders. just before he pulled away.

“i’ll see you around, Juliet.”

you smiled at the given nickname, blushing at the suddenness of that kiss still.

“bye, Romeo.”

he chuckled, before quickly walking down the hallway.

Marlene was right, opposites attract.

[lowgothree]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 ❞ 𓄼˚ ▍ K.M.

❛ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆             ━━  insomnia often plagued kate and she swears you’re the remedy. ❜

❛ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁                ━━  reader is lowk me coded!! sorry!!! ❜

❛ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁         ━━  625 ❜

❛ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲      ━━  this is supa shortttt ❜  

YOU COULD STILL VAGUELY FEEL HER LIPS attached to the crease of your neck even posterior to her detaching them from your smooth flesh. her chest pressed against your back, a movie neither of you are really watching playing in the background. you’re two lovebirds wrapped in each other's warmth, her pelvis against your butt as she pulls you even closer. kate’s curious fingertips managed to case their way underneath your sweatshirt to rest over your abdomen –– toasty hands over your cold skin. sometimes, you could forget how tactile kate could be: she could never keep her hands off of you.

“you look so pretty today.” every syllable earnest and for you. the familiar scratch in her voice met your ears and it settled a warmth across your skin. also familiar. kind of like the feeling of her hands on your hips or breath against your face when she stares into your enamored eyes. you feel yourself crawling away from the feeling she forces you into –– that lovey dovey, allconsuming feeling. eyes screwing shut before their focus lands on the television again. your heart pounds in your chest like it’s trying to escape to meet her half way so you swallow it down and prepare your lips for a snarky remark. so i didn’t look pretty yesterday? 

“don’t even say it –– you know you look pretty every day.” she reminds you yet again of how well she knows you. instead of just two bodies, you are two sets of hands and harmonious, parallel minds. you chuckle, the sound eliciting her to bare her teeth to you in an enraptured manor. “thank you for coming…”

you breathe out a gentle laugh, pad of your index tracing over her knuckles. “turn over…”

she obeys, albeit reluctantly. your hands meet both her cheeks, feeling how they grow warm underneath your devoted stare.  “i’ll be there anytime you need me, kate. even if you just want me to tuck you in.” 

“okay that’s not what i asked.” her words provoke laughter to escape the aperture of your lips, leaving a benevolent smile in it’s place once the laughter subsides. “and i actually need you here. cause you’re the cure.” 

“the cure?” tender and inquisitive hands knead in her blonde locks, trailing within them and savoring the softness against the pads of your fingertips. her eyes flutter shut, drowning in the waves of her own personal heaven you craft for her with just your touch. 

“yeahhhh.” she elongates, austerely shrugging as if what she’s saying makes perfect sense, as if you truly could be the remedy for all her problems –– including her insomnia. “i can sleep when you’re here.”

you don’t argue, instead, opting to humor her. “so somehow me bein’ here will put you to sleep?”

“mhm…” she continues her ministrations, kissing at your neck again with ardent lips. “you always put me right to sleep.”

“that sounds…vaguely sexual.” 

“shut up.”

you laugh again, reaching for the forlorn blanket at the edge of the bed, no doubt tossed there as a result of her frustration from not being able to succumb to slumber on her own. you could hear it in her voice when she called you; undeniable vexation. 

“i love you.” her voice is barely audible, enervation spreading across her all over. kate licks her lips, barely able to awake long enough to hear you say it back. her languid eyelids slowly rise and fall, letting you know that she’s falling asleep. her arm, slipped underneath you in order to keep you in lovely proximity, will surely be numb tomorrow. she pushes her face into your chest, she’ll never let you go. you don’t mind, nuzzling against the apex of her head. 

“i love you too. goodnight, kate.”

[alexwilltellyouthings]

You know what really gets me in Dead Boy Detectives queer rep???

It's that it's both endearing and honest and it balances those things beautifully!

You know how there are some shows in which being queer is a given and there's no LGBTphobia at all? I love it. It feels like the safe space I have within my friends and found family.

And then there are stories where the real world happens and it's important, because we're still very much fighting, and media should also show that.

But dead boy detectives!! Has!! Both!!

Not one person (that matters) in Port Townsend has a problem with queerness, no one bats an eye at it, presumably everyone is queer actually. And yet, one of the main characters was murdered in a hate crime for being gay.

They have Monty and the Cat King and Jenny all being unapologetically queer, and they also have a heartfelt conversation about punishing yourself for being who you are while in HELL.

Honestly, I don't remember any other show doing it like this.

[janaispunk]

nothing lasts forever

chapter 4 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You're both worried about the prospect of you leaving soon. Also, just a lot of filth lol

word count: 5.3k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks big time), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave grabs, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, alcohol consumption, unprotected p in v, oral (f & m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, biting, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, use of restraints, pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, throwing around these ideas with you is so fun, i love you <3

follow @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’ masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

David is becoming a problem. 

When you’re not with him, you’re texting him, having evolved from mostly suggestive messages and pictures to sharing almost every thought that pops into your heads with each other. He knows your friends’ names, your favorite subjects. You watched his favorite movie, sending him your every reaction in real time. 

When you’re not texting him, you’re thinking about him. About his broad hands, about how good he feels inside of you, about the filth he spits into your ear, but that’s not all of it. More often than not, you’re daydreaming about how good his arms feel wrapped around you, engulfing you in his scent, about the feeling of his chest when you rest your head there. About the way he sees you, hears you, makes you laugh. Makes you feel important. 

You’ve pushed the fact that you’re gonna leave again soon into a far away corner of your mind, but as the end of your break is steadily growing nearer, it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore. 

You haven’t talked about what you are to each other, but you’re not delusional enough to think that he’s gonna wait for you. Gonna visit you once every few months and exchange late night messages in the meantime, like you have some kind of future together, like he’s your boyfriend.

He already has a life, has done all the things that you have yet to experience, is miles ahead with no way for you to catch up. You know all this. Which is why it was supposed to be just one time. Until it turned into two times and now into more times than you can count and into something that has grown strings, attaching you to each other. 

No one’s ever had you before, not like this. 

You’re lost in daydreams, sometimes about the things that you’ve done together, but mostly about the things that you wish you could do. Going out together, without worrying about being seen. Cuddling up on his couch for movie nights, cooking in his kitchen, sleeping in his bed. Things that he doesn’t let you do. Because, unlike you, he hasn’t lost sight of what this is. 

You’re so deep in your thoughts, filling the days when you don’t see David with nothing but fantasies about him, that even your father notices. The resulting lecture about focussing on your studies, working on job applications, and to under no circumstances become lazy over the break, washes over you. You nod obediently, promise to get right back to it, not bothering with excuses that you know he won’t listen to. Then you retreat back into your daydreams. 

Dave has fallen into the pit much deeper than he had planned to, deeper than he had thought possible, honestly. He’s in his forties, not some lovesick schoolboy, but that’s exactly what he feels like. 

Once he’s started seeing you regularly, talking to you, thinking about you, he finds himself unable to stop. He likes talking to you, likes the way you actually listen to him, the way you seem to care about every single thing that he has to say. You’re funny, and smart, and quite frankly the only person that he really likes being around these days. Seeing your eyes light up when you tell him about your interests, laughing about the way you almost constantly outsmart him, knowing the person that you can be when you feel safe enough for it, with him, has his heart clenching in his chest. 

He still can’t shake the knowledge that what he’s doing is wrong, the feeling that he’s taking advantage of you. You’re the vulnerable one and he’s the adult and he should be the one who makes reasonable decisions. For both your sake’s. It’s just– you make him happy.

He can’t quit, not when you look at him with those wide eyes, your lashes fluttering, so often flustered about the things he says to you, the things he makes you do. Not when you remain so open and trusting of him, so willing to please. It’s a heady feeling and he can’t seem to let go of it. 

You have plans this Friday, something about drinks and dancing with your friends, and you roll your eyes at him telling you to be safe, but there’s something else too, a sadness below the surface that gives him pause. He briefly wonders if your father doesn’t make you promise the same thing every time you go out. Probably not, he bitterly thinks to himself. 

He doesn’t necessarily dislike Jim, not really. Jim hasn’t been a bad friend to him, not in the way that Dave is with what he’s doing. He just can’t witness the way you’re being treated and like him, either.

“Do you want me to pick you up? You can stay over if you want.” 

He had been battling himself on this one, but he doesn’t think he can go through a repeat of the last time you were out late and couldn’t go home. He watches your eyes grow almost comically wide on his phone screen. 

“Y–you would do that?” 

He knows you’re thinking back on the last time too, on how he turned you down and he hates how small your voice sounds once again. 

“Of course, sweetheart. Just call me, okay?” 

You nod eagerly, thanking him profusely, a smile slowly growing on your face in unison with the warmth in his chest. 

A little after 2 AM you do call him, all giggly and sweet and just fucking adorable. 

His heart swells when he sees you stepping out of the club, hugging your friends goodbye and exuberantly waving in the direction of his car before you make your way over. Your heels are clicking against the pavement and he can’t keep his eyes off your approaching figure. Off the way your dress is hugging your body so tightly, off the expanse of your bare legs, and least of all off your beaming smile that only grows when you can make out his face behind the car window. 

“Hi David,” you giggle, plopping into the seat and pulling him into a kiss almost instantly. You’re rarely bold like this, letting him take the initiative, but he likes this, likes how uninhibitedly you want him right now. Your mouth tastes sweet when your tongue flicks against his, a combination of fruity cocktails and the remnants of your lipgloss. 

When you finally part, you’re panting, your lips are already swollen and your pupils blown wide. His cock twitches with interest at the sight. 

“Let’s get you home,” he suggests, not missing the way your lips part wider at the breathless husk of his voice. You nod wordlessly, eyes still glued to his face. 

As he starts driving, you’re fidgeting in your seat, stealing glances at him, biting your lip. 

“What is it, baby?” 

You avert your eyes, teeth digging deeper into the soft cushion of your lips. Still so shy for him. He raises an eyebrow, throwing you a hard glance. 

“Tell me.”

The short display of dominance is enough to force a whimper up your throat. You gingerly reach out towards him, running your hand over the curve of his belly before you cup his length through his sweatpants. He sucks in a breath, rapidly hardening under your touch. 

“I want to– I want to suck your cock. Please.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, all soft and needy.

Chuckling, he grinds his hips up into your touch.

“Of course you do. Such a desperate little whore for me, aren’t you?”

He does his best to appear unimpressed, to play up that persona that he knows gets you both off so much. Still, his cock is already rock hard, leaking at your eager nod in response to his words, at how much you want him. You look so gorgeous right now, your sparkly skirt slowly inching up your thighs, and there’s no doubt in his mind that you could have had anyone in that club. And yet, here you are, begging to suck him off. 

He relaxes deeper into his seat, reaches out to fist one hand in your hair and tug you closer.

“Well, if you need it that badly. Fucking greedy.” 

You whimper again, louder this time. Your body is pliant under his touch, following the direction of his hand pushing your head down to the pronounced bulge in his lap. With your fingers sneaking under the waistband, you throw him a cautious glance. 

“Can I–?”

The proud smile he gives you in response has you glowing.

“Go ahead. Good girl for asking.”

He raises his hips slightly to help you slide his sweats down enough to let his cock spring free. You audibly moan at the sight, and it drives him wild, to elicit this reaction from you. 

Your mouth sinks down on him eagerly, enveloping him in wet heat, and it takes everything in him to keep his eyes and at least part of his focus on the road. He feels the way you’re squirming, can picture the way your thighs must be rubbing against each other right now. 

You swirl your tongue around his head before you start sucking, and he hisses through his teeth, his hold on your hair tightening further. 

“Fuck,” he groans, head falling back against the headrest. “You’re so fucking good, baby.” 

You whine in response, sinking your head down further, until he’s nudging at your throat. 

When Dave pulls up to his building, he’s already embarrassingly close to coming. Reduced to nothing but burning want by your mouth within mere minutes. 

You’re insatiable as he’s leading you up the stairs to his apartment, hands frantically grabbing at him. He tuts at you, but there’s no bite behind it. 

Once the door falls shut behind you, you’re on him, your lips seeking his out with heated intensity. You only pull back when he tugs your hair sharply, forcing you to look at him. You look wrecked, your lips still swollen and tears sticking to your lashes, pure desire written all over your face. It gives him an idea. 

Grabbing your shoulders, he turns you around abruptly. You whine in protest at losing the proximity to his mouth, but still obey willingly, letting him direct your body until he has you in front of the full length mirror in his hallway. 

You’re a vision, watching with wide eyes as he looms behind you, his fingers trailing over your scantily clad body. Your ass presses against his front, grinding against the hardness of his cock when he circles your nipples over the fabric. A high pitched whine escapes you and your eyes slip closed, your head falling back to rest against his shoulder. 

He clicks his tongue, his hand finding the back of your head and forcing it up again. Your eyes flutter back open and your brow furrows in mild confusion. 

“Watch,” he purrs into your ear. “Watch how beautiful you are, all desperate for me.”

You gulp, but your gaze obediently meets his in the mirror. He smirks, the corners of his mouth curling upwards as he wraps one hand around your throat. Only applying a hint of pressure, but you melt into him, your eyes glued to your reflection.

“Look at you,” he coos, his grip tightening. He nips at your earlobe, relishes in your responding shudder. “Want you to see how beautiful you are.” 

You nod weakly, and he knows how far away you already are, how hazy with pleasure you get when he has you like this. Still holding onto your throat, his other hand splays over your upper thigh, causing the hem of your dress to inch up higher and higher as his fingers dig into the supple flesh. He lets his hand climb, expecting to find your panties soaked with your arousal, but instead he’s met with nothing but bare skin, coated with your slick. He can’t stop the growl building up in his chest and you grind against him harder.  

“Fuck, have you been like this all evening? Whoring yourself out, huh?” 

It doesn’t bother him, at all. The idea of you surrounded by people, with nothing underneath that little skirt, and still patiently waiting for him, has his blood running hotter. He feels you swallow under his palm, feels the movement of your throat as you try to form words, the small shake of your head. 

“T–took them off. After I called you.” You bite your lip, your pleading stare searching his reflection. “I wanted to be ready for you.” 

Dave’s head falls forward at that, his groan muffled against the soft skin where your neck meets your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he sighs, lips moving against your body. “You’re such a good girl.”

His fingers toy with you, featherlight touches caressing your cunt, giving you only the tiniest bit of friction. When he brushes over your clit, you respond with a needy little sound, akin to a sob, that goes straight into his cock. Rutting his hips against yours, his touches get more intense, fingers nudging at your entrance. 

“Please,” you whine, your eyes falling shut once more as you get lost in his touches. 

“Nuh-uh,” Dave tuts, his fingers pausing their ministrations. Landing a slap on your clit instead, one that has you jolting in his arms. Would have probably made you scream too, if he wasn’t holding your throat so tightly. “Thought I told you to watch. If you can’t listen, I’ll stop.” 

You sob again, desperation lacing the sound, but you force your eyes back towards the mirror. He sinks two fingers into you while his thumb swirls over your clit. Your lips part in a loud moan, your frame trembling against him. 

“Look at how good you are for me. Watch yourself falling apart for me,” he grits into your ear, tightening the hold on your throat, forcing you to the edge with his touches. 

Your breath catches, your pupils dilate, before you both watch you shatter around his fingers. Your knees buckle, body collapsing into him. He holds you tightly, helping you ride out your high, transfixed by the image of you, falling apart for him so beautifully.

When you come down, he turns you around in his arms, lips seeking each other out, a mess of tongues and teeth. Devouring each other. He wants you like this, this close, this open. His. Always his. 

“Come here,” he murmurs against your lips, tugs you into his side and holds you close as he finally, finally opens his bedroom door for you. 

He should have done this sooner, he thinks to himself, as you’re on top of him, your gorgeous tits bouncing with every movement. Should have had you in every possible position, should have let your presence fill every corner of his place, should have committed it all to memory. 

He knows that the image of your head on his pillow, drifting off into sleep with a content smile on your face, will be burned into his mind forever, even after you’re long gone. He wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Shit!” 

Dave stirs awake to your voice, frantic and nervous now, so different from the sounds he pulled from you mere hours ago. You’re sitting beside him, hunched over your phone.

“What’s going on?” he asks, inching closer to you, one hand rubbing over your back in an effort to soothe you. 

You wordlessly turn your phone screen towards him. It takes him a few moments of squinting before he’s able to make out that you’re showing him your message thread with your father. Several missed calls, several messages demanding to know why you’re not home. 

“But–” He furrows his brow, his brain only slowly kicking into gear. “Did he not know you were going out?”

“He did,” you murmur, eyes still glued to the device in your hand. “I’m just gonna–”

You tap the screen and hold the phone to your ear, anxiety still painting your face. Dave sits up beside you, unsure of what to do. You’re both feeling it, he thinks, the sudden realization of how fragile this thing is that you have. How quickly it could go up in flames around you. 

He doesn’t agree with Jim on a lot of things, but he can’t stop his mind from thinking about his own girls, about how quickly they’re growing up. About how, in a few years’ time, the roles could be reversed. How murderous he’d be if he ever found himself in a similar situation.

“Where the fuck are you?” your father’s voice barks through the speaker immediately when he picks up, interrupting Dave’s train of thought. 

You flinch at his tone, your shoulders hunching forward. 

“I went out with Jess and Kristen last night. I– I told you.”

He huffs, a dismissive sound. 

“That’s not what I asked, is it?”

Biting your lip, you shoot Dave a wide-eyed glance. He reaches forward, hand coming to rest on your knee, desperate to comfort you in some way. 

“You– last time you said you didn’t want me to come home drunk, so I figured I’d just stay over–”

Your father interrupts you with a loud sigh, like you’re making him carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Dave silently watches you deflate further.

“You realize that we wouldn’t need to have this conversation if you didn’t get plastered every weekend, right?”

“I’m not–”

“I don’t know why I’m spending all this money on your education when you act like you can just waste it. That’s not how I raised you.”

“I’m on–” Defiance sparks in your eyes for a split second before you exhale sharply, your head bowing down. “I know. I’m sorry dad, I’ll be home soon, I promise.”

Without bothering with a goodbye, your father hangs up. You stare at your phone for a second, sighing deeply. 

When your eyes find Dave’s again, they are flooded with shame. 

“Sorry you had to hear that,” you whisper. You’re concealing it well, but he’s seen and heard enough of you by now to recognize the slight wobble in your voice. “He’s right, I shouldn’t have… I’ll just get going.”

You sit up straighter, scrabbling to get out of his bed, your knee slipping away from his touch. 

“Sweetheart–” 

David’s voice is raspy, still thick with the remnants of sleep. He reaches for you, one arm wrapping around you and pulling you into his chest. You feel so safe, so comforted in his embrace, sinking deeper into it immediately. He kisses the crown of your head and it takes everything in you to not start crying. 

You don’t want him to see you like this, to experience first-hand how incapable you are of standing up for yourself. None of this can possibly be what he desires from a relationship, from a woman. 

“You did nothing wrong,” he mutters into your hair. 

You don’t know if you agree. You’re being selfish. Too reckless for your own good, too quick to believe that nothing would go wrong, that there’s no way your father could find out what you’re doing. And you’re pulling David down with you. 

You believe that he likes you, that he enjoys being with you. You have to believe that. But in moments like this, you wonder if a part of why he keeps meeting you is that he pities you. 

Shrugging him off, even as your heart is screaming at you to sink deeper into his touch, you get up and start getting dressed.

“I can drive you home,” he offers softly, his eyes following your every movement. 

When you look up at him, you could swear that you see something like hurt on his features. You’re probably mistaken though. It’s much more likely that he’s just annoyed with the sudden complications that being with you brings.

“No,” you murmur, your voice thankfully more steady than before. “That would be… suspicious, I guess. I’ll just call an Uber.” 

He hugs you tightly before you leave, slotting his lips over yours. They always sting, the small goodbyes. Especially knowing that they’re gonna evolve into one big goodbye soon.

At home, an extended version of the lecture your father already gave you over the phone awaits you. You let it wash over you, nod at the right times, apologize over and over, promise to do better. No point in arguing.

Only a few more weeks.

Before David, that prospect would have filled you with joy. Now, it’s not that simple anymore.

Once Dave’s had you in his bed, he’s addicted to it just like every other facette of you. You’re reluctant to sleep over again, always slipping from his arms eventually, and while he understands, he hates it. 

Still, he has you in it as often as he can. The golden hue of the late afternoon sun is falling through the open blinds, bathing the room in warm light, painting your skin with it. Another image to add to his collection of memories. Another image that he hopes will never fade.

You’re writhing underneath him, spread out over his sheets, your fingers digging into the fabric in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. He loves when you get like this. All rational thoughts blown from your mind, your focus solely on him. On his touches, his commands, his wishes. 

No one else makes you feel like this, no one else has ever shown you pleasure like this. Only him.

He wants to make you happy, but he doesn’t know if you’d let him. He also wants to drag you down with him. That, he suspects, you would let him do.

“Please, David,” you whimper, tears already brimming in your eyes. He’d been teasing you for what felt like an eternity. Positioned you the way he wanted, your hands over your head and your legs spread wide to fit him between your thighs, and told you to not move.

He has kissed his way from your lips down your neck, his teeth digging gently into the skin, then further down to where your breasts were heaving with your breathing. He’s sucked one nipple into his mouth and pinched the other between his fingers, making you keen and arch off the mattress, pushing your body closer into his touch. 

His responding chuckle and the way he shushed you, his lips still moving against your skin, drove you wild with desire. 

His mouth had continued traveling down your body, stopping between your legs where you could feel his breath ghosting against your feverish skin, his teeth nipping at you. It all felt so so good, but not enough, never enough, the need to feel him inside of you nearly overwhelming. 

But he hadn’t budged, alternating between gentle kisses and stinging bites, pulling whines and moans from your throat in an almost constant stream. 

Your hands had moved down on their own accord, fingers twisting into the strands of his hair, trying to pull his face up to yours. Trying to get him to finally, finally fuck you.

He growls at that and leans back onto his haunches, regarding you with burning eyes. His hands come up to his tie, the first piece of clothing that he takes off. He’s still fully dressed, impeccable as always, while you’re bare before him, no doubt already looking thoroughly ruined. It’s such an obvious display of power and it never fails to make your head dizzy with need.

He undoes the tie and leans towards you again, gathering your wrists in one of his large hands, his fingers easily wrapping around them. 

“Disobedient today, are we?” he smirks, clicking his tongue. “I taught you better than that.”

His condescending tone is enough to cause another wave of slick to flood your pussy and you whine, your eyes trained on his handsome face above you. 

“I’m s–sorry, it just– it feels so good.”

“I know it does, sweetheart,” he coos, gently placing a kiss on your pouting lips. “Still– looks like I need to teach you a lesson, hm?” 

Your wide eyes and your timid, obedient little nod have his cock straining against his pants. 

If he could, he’d keep you forever, just like this. In his bed, his to touch, his to hold, his to defile. His, his, his.

You let him pull your wrists higher up the bed, like a doll that he can move however he likes. The tie’s fabric is soft between his fingers. He holds it up to your face, sees the glimmer of excitement in your eyes.

“Kiss it,” he demands, pushing it closer to your mouth. 

You hesitate for just a second before you raise your head to obediently connect your lips with the piece of dark blue fabric. 

“Good girl.”

The corners of your lips raise at the praise, the warmth of your smile washing over him. He’s gonna make this so fucking good for you. You crane your neck, watching eagerly as he wraps the tie around your wrists and connects it to his headboard, securing the knots until your hands are sufficiently trapped over your head. 

“Now what did I tell you?”

You shudder at his tone, pouting up at him, a small crease between your brows. 

“Y–you told me not to move.” 

“I did,” he nods, casually flicking your nipples hard enough that he knows it’s gonna send pinpricks of pain through you. Just the way you like it. Your responding wail doesn’t disappoint, and neither does the way you’re writhing underneath him, trying to grind your dripping cunt against his thighs, but to no avail. 

“Please, I’m sorry, please David–” 

He shakes his head, presses another chaste kiss to your lips before he pulls back. 

“You need to learn to be patient. To do what you’re told.” 

You nod silently, biting your lip while you watch him moving down your body again, until his head is situated between your thighs again. 

“Now, don’t move.” 

He knows that you’re trying, trying so hard to be good when he starts kissing your inner thighs. Knows that you want to move, want to chase the pleasure that he’s kept just out of your reach for so long already. But you’re not, your body almost vibrating with the effort. Because he fucking told you to. Because that’s all it takes.

He licks into you, savoring your taste, savoring the sweet sounds that you reward him with. Alternating between tongueing through your folds and sucking your clit into his mouth, he watches you closely, keeping an eye on your every reaction, waiting to drive you right to that point. 

He knows when you’re close, feels you tensing up, hears the higher pitch of your moans. He keeps you right there, balancing you on that edge. Then he pulls away. Your whine is downright pitiful, a broken sound of desperation that feeds deep into his own arousal. 

“Patience,” he reminds you, stealing a glance up at your face. Tears are brimming from your eyes, but when you catch his gaze, your lips still curl into a smile. Reminding him that you love this game, just as much as he does. 

He builds you up until you’re at the brink of an orgasm two more times, only to let you down again and again. You’re openly sobbing, but keeping still, just like he asked. Patient.

When he finally sinks his cock into you, the sound of him moving through your wetness is downright obscene. It’s heavenly, how hot and slick you are around him, engulfing him tightly. He grits his teeth, forcing himself to go slow. To tease you just a little bit longer. 

Pure bliss overtakes you when David finally thrusts into you. He’s still moving torturously slow, giving you nothing more than shallow thrusts. It doesn’t matter, the stretch of him breaching you almost enough to get you to your climax. Almost.

Before he notices, more tuned into your body than you had thought possible. Before he stills completely, raises an eyebrow at you, almost challenging you to protest. You don’t, determined to prove yourself. 

“What do you say, sweetheart?” 

“Thank you for teaching me patience, David,” you whimper, pouting up at him. You must be a sight by now, your face streaked with tears and your expression most likely as fucked out as you feel.

“Exactly,” he growls. Then he really starts fucking you. 

Each thrust hits almost impossibly deep inside of you, making you see stars behind your eyelids. The coil of your orgasm is already wrapped around you, having been tightened again and again, ready to snap at any second. 

David swipes his thumb over your clit, applying just a hint of pleasure. It’s enough to catapult you straight into your climax.

It rolls over you like a storm, waves a pleasure crashing over you, feeling like they’ll never let you up again. You’re only just coming down, breathless moans falling from your mouth with each of his thrusts as he’s fucking you right through it, never letting up. 

“Give me another one,” he pants, wild eyes trained on your tear-stained face. “Right now. I know you can.” 

His fingers stay on your clit, rubbing over the bundle of nerves while his cock keeps hammering into you, forcing you right back to the edge. It’s like you’re falling apart at the seams, your body disintegrating, melting into the sheets. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” David grunts above you, his jaw clenched, eyes burning into yours, the only thing tethering you to reality right now. 

He stills, his cock buried deep inside of you, shudders running through his body, before he collapses on top of you. He holds you close, one hand quickly working to undo the knots around your wrists, before he pulls you into him, placing kisses all over your face. 

“I’ve never–” he begins, but pauses, like he’s not sure how to phrase it. He doesn’t have to. You know. 

“Me neither,” you murmur, pressing your face into his neck. You want to breathe him in, want that warmth, that feeling of being safe with him to envelop you. 

It has gotten darker, barely any light falling into the room from outside anymore. Eventually, you stretch out your body on top of the bed, relishing in the sweet burn of soreness that David has left in you. 

“How would you feel about pizza?” he asks from beside you, looking down at you with a fond smile. It’s so easy, to imagine this as your everyday life. 

“I’d feel amazing,” you yawn, finally untangling your limbs from the sheets. 

He places the order while you traipse around, putting your underwear back on and using the bathroom, before you crawl back into bed beside him, curling yourself around his still naked body. He wraps an arm around you, starts drawing shapes on your back with his fingers.

A knock raps against wood, much quicker than you both expected. 

“I’ll get it,” you say, since you’re at least wearing underwear already. You’re moving towards David’s front door, pulling on his discarded work shirt to appear at least somewhat decent and looking for his wallet. 

“Hey David, where’s your–” you shout in the direction of the bedroom, opening the door in expectation of being met with the sight of some grumpy delivery guy. The words die on your tongue. 

Instead, you stare straight into your father’s stony expression. 

.........hehe

come yell at me, it would bring me a lot of joy lol

[drdemonprince]

i was on NPR talking about Autism shit two weeks ago, and i have the book sales figures from that week and that national media appearance had.... absolutely zero relationship to sales. on the typical week these days, 1,400 to 1,500 copies of Unmasking Autism will sell. The week that I was on NPR there was a slight dip; only about 1,300 books were sold.

i have done a lot of press for my books. For Laziness Does Not Exist I did easily a 100 damn podcasts and radio shows and newspapers and excerpts in magazines. none of it corresponded to a noticeable bump in sales. the biggest "get" my publicist found for my latest book was the Glennon Doyle show, a booking she and her team celebrated and then spent months clamboring excitedly for... it, too, had no obvious relationship to sales.

Unmasking Autism became a bestseller because some other guy made a tiktok about it, and then a bunch of tiktokkers made videos about it too. all on their own. without any prodding from me, or any relationship to me. it was completely organic, passionate, and sincere, and rooted in the book's true merits and usefulness to other people, and that's why it inspired lots of sales. and continues to more than a year and a half later. all the press I did for Unmasking Autism prior to the release of that tiktok did relatively far less. NPR, Goop, the LA Times, Lit Hub, Jacobin, Huffpo, the New York Times, the Financial Times, MSNBC, Business Insider. Didn't matter. at least not much. so why do i bother?

publishers really ride your ass trying to make you give lots of interviews and show up for lots of events but it's all based on the worship of traditional media and magical thinking that it will somehow convert listeners into buyers. and that's just not how it works. the truth is 95% of books never sell more than 5,000 copies, and most people don't buy books or read them. i love reading but i dont think this is itself some terrible loss, as most books are padded-out commodities made for sale more than a work of true artistic passion or scholarly merit, and sometimes listening to a 90 minute interview with an author tells you the bulk of what you need to know.

it's freeing to know that the effort i put into getting my books out into the world have almost zero relationship to the books' success. marketing just does not work. it's a relief. unmasking autism did fabulously because it's actually both good and useful. laziness has had a long life span because it speaks to real problems in people's lives and gives them a message they are desperate to hear. but no amount of thirsty ass online shilling will make somebody realize that and it's maddening to try. you just gotta focus on doing good work, work that you enjoy making or need to make and that you feel good about, let things flop if theyre gonna flop, and keep on living your life.

which is all good news because i really do hate a lot of these fucking interviews. how can i stomach being on npr or in the atlantic or whatever these days given how complicit nearly all major media outlets are in justifying this genocide. like who fuckin cares about them, who wants their approval. who needs it. it's of no value

[marzipanandminutiae]

Wanna be horrified with me?

I had to watch a document about white colonizers in Canada for class and there was a throwaway line about a young woman travelling out to the "Northwest" (basically the prairie provinces of Canada) to get married and having ALL HER TEETH PULLED and replaced with dentures before the move.

Take me out behind the barn and shoot me first. That made me cringe so hard.

I just looked this up to see if it was a Thing. Big mistake.

No pictures, thank god, but anecdotal evidence that it has been a Thing on and off, in various cultures- especially in Acadia, which checks out here -into the 1970s in some cases. IE people saying "oh yeah, my great-grandma had that!" It seems to have mostly been isolated, not mainstream. Not that that's stopped myth-makers from claiming that ALL VICTORIAN BRIDES HAD THEIR TEETH REMOVED!!!! I hardly need to say that I've found no evidence of this- indeed, I've never read anything about an adult woman with healthy teeth having needless extractions in the 19th century until today (primarily reading publications and letters from urban or suburban areas of the US and UK, and sometimes France). And plenty of married or simply older women discussing tooth problems- one letter I read from 1820s Boston had a married fortysomething lady complaining about a toothache, for example

Actually, I'm finding more early-mid 20th century sources about it, now I really poke around. Interesting. I almost wonder if it didn't gain in popularity as infection became less of an issue, rather than being an older practice.

The idea, apparently, was that you couldn't have tooth problems if you didn't have teeth. Which is. Interesting and highly flawed logic, because now you have Got All My Teeth Extracted In A Pre-Antibiotics Era problems. Plus potential bone loss in your jaw, over time, which causes other issues.

Yeesh. I need to go brush and floss 15 times, brb

[leaderwonim]

HALF RETURN part one

pairing. park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary. you and park sunghoon reunite years later, except this time, on the court.

warnings. cursing, mentions of sport injury, mentions of excessive drinking

“Are you ready to go?” Your coach, Lauren, swings your gym bag around her shoulder, eyes widening at how heavy it really was. “Geez Nishimura, what did you put in here? We’re only leaving for 4 days!”

You laugh, taking a quick sip of your Celsius before putting on your socks. “My camera, 2 large Celsius, you can have one Lauren—my Stanley, don’t worry, it’s filled with water and not sprite this time. Oh, and extra rackets.”

“First of all, you’re not even supposed to drink that much Celsius,” Lauren clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “and secondly, your camera? You haven’t used that in a while.”

She’s right. You haven’t. Ever since the incident with Sunghoon 4 years ago, you quit film and started focusing on other things.. such as tennis, Sunghoon’s passion. It seems ironic, but that wasn’t your intention.

Turns out, you were pretty darn good after watching and filming him during your relationship.

Lauren Perret, a coach who used to attend Harvard had been at the park when she saw you play with your friend and instantly became intrigued. In a matter of weeks, she started coaching you to play for Duke with the connection of her friend who was in close hands with the president there.

“Kinda need it, we’re playing against Harvard today.”

“Ah.” Lauren looks away, already knowing what you’re implying. “How has he been, by the way?”

“No idea,” you shrug. “Soobin tells me he’s still good as ever. Heartthrob alumni of Harvard, visits to give speeches to the athletes every week.”

Soobin was one of your film friends during your time at Harvard, and was actually quite the sweetheart. He became pretty close friends with Sunghoon after graduation, the two finding comfort in drinking soju everytime their life went downhill.

For Soobin, it was a horrible quality film. For Sunghoon, it was anything. You still remembered that about him. The littlest of depression could lead to him passed out in the middle of the road.

“You shouldn’t be too worried about him,” Lauren shrugs. “Just think of him as another opponent.”

“You’re right,” you straighten out your white skirt, looking one last time in the mirror before opening your apartment door. “Let’s get this baby on the road.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

“Hey.”

You sit down in front of Sunghoon, awkwardly glancing around the place.

Despite your relationship ending badly and abruptly, he had invited you out to dinner.

It’s on me, he had told you over message. And you were surprised he still kept your number after all this time.

“Are you guys ready to order?” You could tell the waitress had a bit of a staring problem, her eyes practically set themselves dead on Sunghoon and Sunghoon only.

“Ah yes, I’ll just get the caesar salad with ranch on the side.”

“I’ll get a steak.” You say, handing both of your menus to her after she’s done putting that on the tab.

“She was totally into you.”

Sunghoon scoffs. “Was not.”

“Whatever.” You wave him off. “Caesar salad with ranch on the side, though?”

“Gotta watch my diet for championship.” He shrugs. “You should too Nishimura.”

“How have you been?”

Sunghoon laughs, and you’re confused as to why. You hadn’t said anything funny.

“We’re really delving deep before I have my first wine of the night?” You don’t laugh, which makes the boy roll his eyes. “Okay fine. I’ve been doing okay. Are you sure you didn’t want to ask me about how I was when you exposed your films to the world four years ago?”

You choke on your spit, not expecting him to be so straightforward.

“When I first saw that, I was like no way. No way she would do that so carelessly, she got into Harvard for fucks sake—she wouldn’t do something stupid like that. But when I realized it happened and there was nothing I can do about it, I got so angry. I was angry for weeks, I was angry because everybody else was angry at me. They held me up to this high standard that when they saw me break it, they went ballistic. My coach yelled at me for weeks. Said I was the biggest disappointment known to man, and I was stupid for blowing opportunities away.”

“Wow, I—I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” he laughs. “After you exposed me, you found your love for tennis. If I had rewind time and asked you now if you would do what you did four years ago, you would say yes. Admit it, Nishimura.”

“Here is your food!” The waitress comes to end the tension, handing you two your plates. “And you requested 3 wines, Mr. Park?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He places two of the wines on his side and one on yours.

“Say whatever you want to say now,” Sunghoon smirks. “I finally have my wine.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

When it came to the day of your competition, yours and Sunghoon’s coach share a nod, shaking heads silently.

From the corner of your eye, you finally see him.

After four years, he has grown. He’s no longer the boyish college athlete that you used to date before. Instead, his stance is confident, intimidating almost.

“Hi Nishimura,” he grins. And God, God, it’s the same grin he gave you the day you first met.

“Hi Park.”

He bounces the tennis ball, eyebrows furrowing. “Why are you so tense? Relax, it was four years ago.”

“You’re really over it?” You question.

“I guess.” He stretches his back, a loud cracking sound can be heard. “Not like you ruined my career for a whole 6 months and went after my passion.”

“Alright!” Your coach mushes you and Sunghoon together. “You guys are on now.”

Sunghoon bites the inside of his cheek, already in his starting stance. “Ready anytime you are Nishimura.”

You serve the ball, adrenaline flowing through your body like a stream.

“C’mon,” Lauren whispers at the edge of her seat, “just one more out.”

Suddenly, Sunghoon swings his racket hard at the ball, hitting it right at your eye, making your entire body fall backwards.

“Shit shit shit,” Sunghoon runs over to you, ignoring the loud yelling from your coach at the referee.

“Tell me,” you say to him, blurred vision making Sunghoon look like a distant memory. “That you love me.”

“I can’t.” He whispers, frowning as he positions you so you’re now sitting on the court.

“Tell me I wasn’t the issue in our relationship, Sunghoon. Give me that at least.”

His face still remains pitiful, “Y/N, you seriously never understood, have you? Not even after 4 years?”

“Understood what?”

“It was never about you.” He says quietly. “My life, I mean. It was always about tennis.”

And although you know he’s just being honest, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

[spirit-lanterns]

hear me out.... Black Swan using her memetic hands. she has no problem if you take longer to cum because she'll use those hands to touch you everywhere at once. i imagine she can freely change the length or thickness of the fingers on those hands, so she'll play around and see what combination you like best. Black Swan can have a high stamina because of these tricks up her sleeves, and she makes sure you're always left thoroughly satisfied :)

Black Swan is such a cheater at this kind of thing 😭😭 every other woman is put against a test of stamina and endurance when getting you to cum, meanwhile Black Swan is having a chill time just fingering you for hours because her multiple hands are able to pleasure you for as long as you need. She has a huge advantage!

She’s also really patient too, just sitting there idly in front of you while her multiple hands finger you and fondle your tits, an amused expression on Black Swan’s face as all she says is “what? no, I’m not tired. I can do this all day~”

And she actually can do this all day. This woman would literally dedicate a day to just worshipping your body and making you see heaven for as many times as you’d like. It’s hard for you to orgasm you say? Say no more! Black Swan is clearing her schedule so she can bring you to the break of release without the help of sex toys. She can handle it! Her actions back up her words 💕

[thesunfyre4446]

i'm really struggling with the way this fandom treats alicent and rhaenyra.

because it's always anti VS pro. it's always "she did nothing wrong!" VS "this is entirely her fault".

and yeah, rhaenyra and alicent did not start the problem. they are DEF 100% not as guilty as viserys.

but y'all are really going to pretend like they "never even wanted to fight?" like they didn't also helped creating this mess?

rhaenyra was beefing with a 2yo, from the second her siblings were born she hated them.

alicent asked for Joffrey, this is def not the "abuse" the antis claim it is, but yeah, she's DEF trying to stir the pot by humiliating rhaenyra. alicent warned aegon that rhaenyra will kill him if she ever became queen. and yes, of course she truly believes that \ has reasons to believe that, but she can't act surprised that her kids grew to hate and fear rhaenyra???

rhaenyra suggested that aemond should be tortured after he was maimed by her sons, and never even considered showing kindness \ apologizing to aemond - who lost his freaking eye!! and yes, she did what she did to protect her kids.

they both had their reasons, but let's not pretend like they were trying to mend the rift & it's all the evil men's fault! like fuck no.

alicent literally raised aegon to take rhaenyra's throne. so her saying that actually, she doesn't want war - IS hypocritical. and i love my girl, but she can DEF be hypocritical and by no means is a perfect angel. and i love her because she's a complex character with actual character flaws.

so no, it doesn't have to be "she's perfect and never did wrong" VS "she's the devil". you can criticize a character and acknowledge their flaws while still loving them.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Had a terribly great thought! The Ghoul and reader traveling together. She's a brat but loyal as a dog to that man. They get into a pretty bad fight and she storms off and he's too proud to follow after her, struggling with coming to terms that he's actually soft for her even though he's mean as hell. She finds him some days later, with her tail tucked between her legs. He's not surprised, comparing her to a female dog often. 👀 still, he's going to make sure she's sorry. Lots of groveling on her part, maybe some face slapping, boot licking, he gets off, she doesn't. Ends with her in his lap. Hair petting and praise for coming back to who she belongs to.

As A Dog

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,085

Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Jealous!Cooper, canon-typical violence, intimacy issues, angst, insecurity, slightly fucked conceptions of love and loyalty, pet play-ish activity, hard drug use, forced intoxication, shotgunning, slapping, boot licking, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, riding, cannibalistic thoughts, orgasm denial (female), breeding kink, creampie.

Notes: I had several pieces in line in front of this one and then this prompt reached through my screen, sunk its teeth into my brain, and shook me until this came out. It really is a terribly great thought. Tagging heavy, since the themes/Cooper's mentality may be triggering for some. It is what it says on the can, folks.

I dunno what unholy demon you've unleashed on me here, Anon. But bless you for it. Another Coop POV because I have a problem. Thanks for the patience on this one; I've been doing some admin stuff the last few days, including setting up an AO3 that you can find here, where I'll be uploading all the long-form stuff. Enjoy!

Cooper's trigger finger was itchier today than it had been for a long time.

He was fully aware that he'd never be able to stop every man left in the world from talking to his little vaultie companion, but boy, he sure would love to try. On an average day, he struggled to hold his tongue as she drove away her own sun-baked suitors, standing silently aside until called up to defend her, no matter how badly he wanted to reduce whomever was bothering her to nothing.

Today was a worse-than-average day, and the girl wasn't helping anything, herself.

"Are you gonna be ready to go any time soon, princess?" he asked her acerbically as she passed by him for the millionth time, tossing his current cigarette down to the ground.

He'd intended to stop at this shitty little settlement, little more than a dingy bighorner ranch at first glance, for a few minutes at most, just long enough to unload some things and check to see if they had any vials on hand. Here it was, nearly four hours of glad-handing and chit-chatting and unnecessary gun repairs later, and he was still leaning against the same crumbing wall, still angrily smoking. She was pushing it.

"Oh, be patient." she shot back, rolling her eyes as she turned to saunter back to the little ramshackle counter. "I'm waiting for my gun back and I was having a nice chat with the mechanic. Try to be pleasant for five minutes, would you?"

She was so full of shit, he thought as he snuffed the still-glowing smoke butt out beneath the toe of his boot with just a little more force than necessary. Typically, she shied away from male attention at her most demure, refusing to acknowledge most advances, playing innocent, playing dumb. The big doe eyes and soft voice didn't hurt on that front, but usually didn't deter the more steadfast predators.

He preferred the days where she had a little extra spitfire, when she told them clearly and loudly to fuck off, no doubt emboldened by having the rather intimidating ghoul hanging over her shoulder, silently encouraging her as she did it. In the past, she had proven that she wasn't above evoking his capacity for violence as a threat when the desert trash was persistent, and it gave him a thrill he couldn't identify, one that ruminated deep in his gut.

That same gut feeling was burning him now, eating a hole in his patience as he watched her listening attentively to the third scrawny young man who'd approached her as she waited around the repair hutch to yap her ear off. She nodded and smiled politely, even laughed from time to time (the sound of which made him want to shoot he kid between the eyes just for that), but kept a respectful distance. Clearly, she'd finally learned that the sort of over-friendliness that she'd been raised with in the vaults could be read differently up here. The young buck, however, continued to try and dance into her space as he spoke animatedly, and, eventually, she reached out and quickly touched his chest.

The old cowboy was stomping across the sand to her before he was even aware he was moving.

His logical brain could see very clearly what had happened: the boy had advanced into her space for the half-dozenth time and she'd put her palm out to gently rebuke him, distracting him from the rejection with a laugh at whatever he'd said. But that part of his brain was rather quiet after a long afternoon of watching her rather blatantly flirt with the asshole she was having repair her plasma pistol (something that she would typically have him do, since it wouldn't cost her anything, and he almost certainly could do with equal or superior adequacy), and letting every other little piss-ant farmhand in the next mile radius chat her up.

"We're hitting the road in five. Get your shit and let's go." he hissed to her, ignoring the little scowl she shot him as he interrupted her newest conversation with the willowy, greasy mechanic, who was sliding her her pistol back across the knotted wood of the semi-exposed countertop. Flashing him that brilliant smile, the one that he wanted to be only for him, she checked the thing over before tucking it back into the holster she kept on her hip, pushing a stash of caps in a metal tin back his way. The old cowboy watched with inflamed indignation as the fucker opened the box, dug out a massive handful, and tucked them back into her hands, letting his own linger across her skin as he placed them back into her palms.

Frankly, he was impressed he was able to let her drop the things back into her bag before he grabbed her by the arm, none too gently, and wordlessly began to yank her back down the road, back in the direction they'd originally been heading in. He could've shoved the damn things in himself and just dragged her along; it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with where she put them. The long, sleepless nights could be boring, and early on, he'd been curious enough about her to nose through her things once or thrice. That, like this, had been quite illuminating.

"Oh, you're being such a prick today!" she yelled, yanking at his grip in an attempt to free herself. He humored her, dropping her arm and turning to face her, unpleasantly surprised as the last farmhand she'd been chatting with, the one she'd touched, came running up.

"Hey, leave her alone!" he yelled. Or, he would have, if he'd had a chance to finish.

The sound of Cooper's rifle butt cracking into the kid's face was incredibly satisfying, collapsing him into a limp, useless pile on the ground, deep crimson pooling around where he lie face-down in the dirt. The girl didn't scream, probably surprised that he hadn't outright shot him, but her hands did fly to her mouth in a quick moment of silent shock before she kneeled to quickly check his pulse, rolling his ugly mug to face the sun. Blood poured from his obviously broken nose, leaving the old ghoul wiping at his face to cover the smirk it sent twitching across his lips.

"What did you do that for?!" she demanded, frustration clear in her voice.

"Oh, my apologies, sweetheart. Your little boyfriend there was trying to join a party he wasn't invited to." he replied, though she was clearly ignoring him in favor of turning the boy onto his side and examining him.

His little companion let out a huff, casting a look between the body on the ground and the little cluster of buildings they'd just left. After a moment, she grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt the best she could and began to drag him back towards where he'd come from. The ghoul watched her pull him about five feet, red and huffing by the time she made it there, rolling his eyes deeply.

"Leave him. He'll be fine."

"He won't be if no one comes over to collect him soon, and you know it." she snarled, and her tone sent him seething, snatching the kid up over his shoulder like a sack of spuds and stomping ahead of her, depositing him unceremoniously against the ranch's handmade sign before yanking her along with him once again.

"Y'know, if you'd have just gotten in and out like I told you, that wouldn't have happened." he said eventually, dropping her arm once more.

"Oh, fuck you!" she hissed. "I was trying to see if I could talk him down on the price. And sometimes people know useful things, you know!" she yelled, exasperation clear in her tone as she threw her arms up in the air.

She pretended to be ignorant, but clearly knew what he was upset about before he specified. Interesting.

"Oh, I'm sure. Y'know, I'd wondered how long it was gonna take you to start sellin' that little ass of yours. Figured it would be for something nicer than a pistol repair or some bad intel, at least." he sneered. He could feel himself slipping further from rationality.

"What are you talking about? It wasn't even like that!" she insisted, an edge of something more worrisome creeping into her voice.

"Quit playin' dumb, doll. You make it seem too easy." he said, watching her entire face light up bright red in frustration. She was tersely quiet for a minute, the gears in her head clearly turning hard and fast as she worked to contain herself and formulate a response at the same time.

"I'm sick of you getting pissed off and treating me like I'm the stupidest person you've ever met." she spat, eventually, madder than he'd ever seen her. "I'm sorry that I haven't spent enough bitter fucking years walking around the desert and killing things and being an asshole to know everything like you do, Coop. I'm sorry I still have human emotions and desires. My sincerest fucking apologies."

That was it: the argument had officially become about...something else.

Honestly, he'd assumed that she was going to leave him a few days back, when they'd stayed in a rare hotel room waiting for a bad dust storm to settle, the little thing getting just a tad too tipsy on some whiskey he'd given her before trying to kiss him. He'd rebuffed her, though not as gently as he wished he had, and, feeling bold, she'd pushed back with surprising fervor, basically demanding to know why he wouldn't kiss her more, why he wouldn't sleep with her.

True, he felt closer to her than he'd felt to anyone or anything in a long while, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but, as embarrassing as it was, the idea of being expected to perform sexually so suddenly made him feel a seizing sense of panic that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

What he'd wanted to say was "I care about you so much, but I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step." Instead, what had come out was "Why are you buggin' me about this? I said no. Fuck off." followed by him storming out to spend several hours smoking in the decrepit, junk-walled-in parking lot.

When he'd returned, she'd been asleep, her poor face tear-swollen and red. He'd waited for her to rouse and hash it out with him, but she'd slept through the night, and, the next morning, didn't bring it up or seem amenable to discussing it. She hadn't seemed angry, necessarily, perhaps a little sad, but in the few days that had passed since, she had definitely been colder, poutier than usual.

It seemed, to him, that she was punishing him now for not doing what she'd wanted, and it was pissing him off.

It didn't matter that he hadn't fucked her yet, that he didn't feel ready to expose the most vulnerable parts of him, inside and out, so openly. She was his; she belonged to him and she knew it as much as he did. The fact that she was even still traveling with him after all this time, after what happened at the hotel that night, was proof. She proved it every single time she came back from one of her little stomp-offs every time he ticked her off, lacking the wherewithal to ever even move fully out of sight before slinking down to pout awhile, inevitably peeking out from whatever she was hiding behind to see if he was still there. Despite her lack of proper training, she was a loyal little bitch.

The fact that she suddenly didn't want to act accordingly sat entirely wrong in his mind, wriggled under his skin like when his stash ran low.

"All's I'm saying, princess," he growled, throwing out the nickname he knew she loathed once more, "is that you're too fucking friendly for your own good, and you shouldn't be shocked when it gets people hurt."

"Why would you give a shit who I'm friendly to, anyway?" she spat, suddenly pushing her way right into his bubble and sending him baring his teeth.

"I wouldn't. Didn't I made that clear enough the other night?"

He knew that this particular barb would hurt her, but he genuinely didn't expect what she did next.

"Alright, then." she said; her voice was trembling noticeably, as was her lower lip. With that, she snatched her backpack up from the ground, jammed her arms into the straps, turned, and began to walk back towards the way they'd come from. He watched her silently, waiting for her to duck back into the ranch, but she didn't; instead, she kept walking, as long as he could watch her, until she disappeared over the hill that fed into the horizon.

The old man watched her go, dumbfounded as she actually continued to walk instead of stopping as she always did. For a while, he hung around, waiting for her to come huffing back, but she still hadn't by the time the sun had fully sunk out of the sky. Eventually, he resumed moving himself, stopping after about a mile in their original planned direction, settling down for a grating night of looking out over the road at every little noise.

She'd never even looked back. He couldn't shake that thought from his mind as he sat there resting overnight. It was basically the only thought he had for hours, plaguing him as he puffed his inhaler and watched the world around him brighten with the rising sun.

When the next day started in full, he'd resolved to hit the road, to resume his travels as he would be resuming his existence before the girl had come along. Compared to how long he'd been exploring the desert solo, she'd been but a brief blip in his life, and there was no reason to fret so much over where she'd gone or what could happen to her without him around.

For some reason, he only covered about half the ground he would typically cover on a day like this, and he found himself beyond unreasonably frustrated...with himself. Nothing about the conditions was slowing him down; he didn't run into more trouble than usual, and he was fine on supplies, vials, but for some reason he found himself hypervigilant, looking for any excuse to move up high and scan the road with his binoculars.

By the time it was too dark to safely continue, he was seething once again, but at his weakness, at his cowardice. After he chose a tucked away little corner to settle down in for a few hours, he quite literally couldn't dig into his stash fast enough, doing line after line, hit after hit of whatever he had on him, until the horrible pain he felt behind his breastbone melted away into a familiar, soothing numbness.

But his numb mind liked to wander, and soon he found himself thinking about the softness of her voice, her skin, her lips against his that night...

And, quickly, he was back to pain and anger, but an irrational anger fueled by a far-more than reasonable dose of basically every kind of stimulant known to Wasteland man. This pain, too, was chased away with more and more chems, until he was so fucked up that he could barely keep his eyes focused and open.

She truly did plague him now, just as she had all the months she'd traveled with him. She plagued his thoughts at all points in the day, plagued his worries about the future, and even as he attempted to snort and huff himself free of the thought of her, she plagued him, dancing up along beside him in a quiet, stalking creep, watching him daintily from the end of the rotted log he sagged himself on, his back wedged against the large rock cluster behind him. At some point, he'd tugged his gloves off and shucked them somewhere nearby, leaving him feeling quite naked as his hands fretted with themselves absentmindedly. Against his will, he thought about running them through her hair like he'd wanted to for so long, and the unpleasant flip his stomach did made him sigh.

"I'm sorry." came a voice on the breeze, so much like hers. The visions of her were persistent, annoyingly so, the one staring hauntingly at him from the side really starting to unsettle him. He was no stranger to visual and auditory hallucinations when he was this far gone, but she was so solid-looking out of the corner of his eye, watching him so close. Judging him and what a fuck-up he was.

He squeezed his eyes shut hard, willing her away, willing himself to go back a few days and redo this entire thing differently.

"Aren't you...gonna say anything?" came the soft, timid voice once more, this time from beside him. Firmer, realer.

He narrowed his eyes in her ghostly direction, focusing as best as he could on her blurry, swimming visage.

"Huh. Didn't know that was really you."

When had she arrived, exactly? Fuck, he was dangerously gone if she'd been able to sneak up on him like that.

She frowned at that, leaning close and sizing him up with worrying eyes. Gingerly, she placed her palm on the back of his bare hand.

"Jeez, Cooper. How fucked up are you?" she asked, her tone sincere, almost apologetic.

Her glaring worry burned into him as judgment, harsh and stinging, and he struck out in response, yanking his hand away.

"Mind your fuckin' business." he slurred, forcing himself to sit up straight enough to point his full anger in her direction, growing with each passing moment. "Think you're better'n me? Hmm?"

He'd fully expected this to ignite another yelling match between the two of them, but she didn't scream back; instead, she quietly dropped her head, avoiding his eyes as she gazed around where he'd chosen to bed down. Truly, he was quite impressed she'd managed to find him at all, let alone in the dark. Turns out he was rubbing off on her even more than he'd thought. The idea left him bitter.

A big part of the anger he felt, the ugliest, most violent part, was the Jet; he knew this. The stuff had gotten him into more than his share of scuffles through the years, making him even meaner than usual, his sharp tongue exact and piercing. However, beneath the amphetamine fog, there was a nugget of true bitterness, an open wound of insecurity that pained him into lashing out when she tried to come close. He'd lashed out in such a way that night at the hotel, despite how hard he'd tried to hold back his sour words.

There was a fear there that he'd felt before, but never so strongly as when he'd watched her disappear over that hill. If she'd tried to leave over that relatively small argument, when would she try to leave again? He wasn't a pleasant man to be around, even when he actually tried to be, a lot of the time. Hell, he wasn't even pleasant to look at; if he'd been a giant prick in his old life, at the very least, he had been handsome.

Increasingly, since she'd come into his life, he tried to reach deep, deep into himself and pull out whatever remained of the old him, the one who was kind and hopeful and actually knew how to talk to women, but the process was infinitely more difficult and painful than he'd imagined.

She clearly wanted and needed intimacy from him, on more than one front, and the pressure of feeling like he couldn't give her what she needed was increasingly getting to him in a way that embarrassed him more than he could possibly say (not that he'd ever say it out loud). Centuries of time had passed, and yet, here he was, still dealing with the same anxieties and feelings of inadequacy that he had before, just dressed up in a new, uglier face.

When would he finally succeed in pushing her away, in frightening her away from him 'for her own good'? The walls around him had never failed him before, for better or worse.

Things were quiet between them as she fidgeted in her spot, the tension of an inescapable conversation in the air, but the desert's constant score, the hiss of sand across corroded asphalt, the soft rattle of the wind in the rocky hills, played on. His muddled ears played tricks on him, making him hear murmurs and distant gunshots and the crack of his rifle butt into that farmhand's face, but he tuned them out, focusing on her steadying, but increasingly heavy breathing, his eyes unable to leave her mouth..

He let himself drink in the fact that she really was there, sat on her knees in the dirt before him and already begging him for his forgiveness, for his acceptance; corporeal, flesh and blood and her sweet smell and that wet, warm place between her legs. Only in his drug-induced private fantasies had he felt it, but he knew he wanted to bury himself there, as deep as possible, and never let her pull away.

"I really am sorry, Coop." she whispered, those big, round eyes brimming with big, wet tears. It wasn't difficult to see her sincerity, even as he struggled to focus. But that hot coal of bitter anger still smoldered in his gut; not replaced by the lust he felt, but fed by it.

Slowly, his own movements labored under the weight of too many substances, he reached out and ran the thumb of his sullied glove along her smooth, smooth cheek. Smearing the trail of wetness there until he was tracing the outline of those pouty lips, he pushed it into her mouth.

"Prove it."

She let out a pitiful little retch, though whether it was from the taste of the incredibly filthy material, or because he was shoving her tongue back in her throat and gagging her with it, he didn't know. What he did know was that the sound made his cock twitch, which was already more blatant sexual desire than he'd felt in ages.

"How?" she asked, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as he pulled his own away. The wetness that trailed from his thumb, from her lips, made him feel feverish, and he quickly knotted his hand into the thick, soft hair at the back of her head, yanking her so close that their noses would've been touching, had he still had one. When her wide eyes met his, not so much as a sound escaping her lips at the sensation in her scalp, he finally gave in and harshly mashed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sigh that escaped her as he did.

Cooper was unsure how long they kissed, how long he plundered her swollen, eager mouth with his tongue before she stumbled onto her knees, pulling back slightly to pull air into her lungs. As she hovered there, eyes closed as she attempted to gather herself, he dug deep into the pocket of his duster and withdrew a Jet container, giving it a shake to prime it as she righted her breathing. Once she was steady once more, he cupped the back of her head again, bringing her to him and lifting it to her mouth. There was hesitation in her eyes, then disgust as the chem filled her lungs. It touched him with a twinge of amusement, knowing how badly the stuff tasted, watching her retch harder than before. He let her cough for a few seconds, allowing her a few half-cocked breaths of air before shoving the thing back between her lips and holding it down even longer.

By the time she managed to stop sputtering and drooling, he'd had a hit of his inhaler and started stroking his increasingly hard cock through his pants, watching her closely as she raised her now bleary, glassy eyes towards him. He waited for her to mouth off, to complain, to remark on anything that had happened, but instead, she sat there, unmoving, waiting for his instructions. She was the picture of obedience, but nevertheless, he could still see that glint of outrage behind her gaze, waiting to argue with him the moment she sensed an opportunity.

It pissed him off more than he thought possible, and, before he could even think to stop himself, he lashed out and slapped her across the face, the blow landing squarely in the center of her cheek and making her head turn away from him slightly. Surprising him again, she didn't make a sound, but she also didn't correct her head to look back at him.

Pulling a long drag off of the Jet inhaler himself, he held it deep in his lungs as he grabbed her by her long hair to kiss her again, exhaling the stuff right down into her lungs. She kissed him back until she choked on the sensation, leaning away to spew and cough more.

"Wanna prove you're sorry?" he hissed, his brain buzzing with the fresh hit as she leaned against his knee. "Clean my boots, vaultie. Show a little humility for once in your life."

His words were mean, meaner than he should be right now, but she didn't seem to register their full weight as she struggled to focus her eyes on the boots in question. When she lifted those dark, glassy pools back to his, he could see she knew what he meant, a heavy blush staining her cheeks and neck. Of course she knew what he meant; she was a smart girl, and her brain worked so much like his, even if she wouldn't freely admit it.

She looked up at him so dreamily through those thick lashes, though whether it was real affection in her eyes or simply the haze from all the Jet he'd forced down into her lungs, he couldn't tell.

In truth, his boots weren't as filthy as they could've been, as he'd cleaned the farmhand's blood off of them the night she'd taken off to get rid of the smell. But it wasn't about cleanliness; no, she'd humiliated him, her and her spoiled, entitled vault-dweller attitude, when she ran off, and he wanted to see her humiliate herself a little in kind.

The woman kneeling before him didn't hesitate as much as he'd thought she would, the red outline of his palm and fingers seeming to glow on her cheek in the dying firelight as she cast a vaguely-seeing glance around her, measuring her space before pulling herself into a sort of downward dog position, her round ass in the air as her marred cheek rested softly on the sandy ground. There was a moment of quiet tension as she seemed to study it, planning her approach before rather timidly leaning forward and running her tongue along the side, swiping a clean stripe across the tarnished black material from ball to toe. She gagged at first, likely from the dryness of the dust, but, again, she didn't complain.

He didn't have to tell her to clean the other boot; she did it with no prompting as soon as the first was finished, gagging less as she ran her pretty pink tongue all along the sullied, scuffed leather, and he couldn't believe how much it turned him on while equally failing to quell his indignation, his disappointment. Before she'd really finished her work, he yanked her up by her hair again; this time, she let out a slight yelp of surprise as he dropped her onto her ass, gesturing to her shabby, scavenged armor with one hand as the other began to wrestle his ammo belt, then his actual belt, open.

"Take that shit off."

Again, she did as he asked with only a moment's pause, placing all the little pieces of boiled leather and metal off to the side, her eyes flitting to him for a heartbeat before she proceeded with the rest of her clothes, quickly exposing herself completely. He could see her well in the moonlight, but not as well as he'd have liked, leaving her standing there, vulnerable and shivering ever-so-slightly as he took a good, long look at her. He was painfully hard at this point, desperate to have at least some minor relief from the confines of his trousers, but he was also uncharacteristically nervous at the idea of exposing himself to her this way. Beckoning her forward, he used her distraction as she kneeled once more to pull his cock free, grateful for the darkness and her weaker eyes.

"Suck me." he growled.

While he wasn't exactly pleased at how entirely fucked up he'd been going into this, he was sort of grateful that he couldn't feel almost anything with any vivid detail across the expanse of his body; the visual of her wrapping her dainty little fingers around him and obediently leaning down to take him into her mouth alone would have been enough to finish him if he'd have been able to feel her properly.

The way she went about it also seemed to indicate she wasn't entirely experienced, simply sliding her mouth down over his cock and setting to finding a pace that she could handle, as everything was surely spinning for her. For a while, he let her do so, fingers knotting into her hair again, before his patience wore thin and he began to push her head downwards, the sound of her gagging once more sending a thrill up his spine. Even with the numbness from the most recent hit seeping through him, he wasn't able to keep it up long before he yanked her back, taking in the drool hanging down from her swollen lips.

Cooper gave his spit-slicked cock a few firm tugs, hissing from between his worn teeth at her as he sat back, making room for her on his lap.

"Now get up here and show me you know who you belong to."

She didn't even look towards her bag, towards the condoms he knew she kept tucked deep inside her little toiletry pocket, as she quickly and sloppily pulled herself up into his lap. A part of him knew that he'd have stopped her if she did try to put one on him.

He tried so hard to not think of Barb as the pretty young thing on top of him began to sink down and envelop his cock in her heat, tried so hard to not feel guilty for giving himself to another, and he failed miserably. She felt heavenly, tighter and warmer and sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he hated himself for how much he loved it, for how alive it made him feel when for so long he'd simply been existing. The choked noise that left his dry throat as the aching head of him fully breached her wasn't a sob, but he wouldn't have known what to call it.

It must've seemed to her, he thought, that he was forcing her to do all the work out of anger, wanting her to fully prove that she wanted him, that she was his; this was true, but he was also terrified, deep down, of how he would react if he allowed himself to freely touch her the way he wanted. He feared he would literally rip her limb from limb in his intoxicated state, sink his teeth into her pillowy flesh until it bled, tear a chunk off of her and swallow it so that she could be part of him forever.

He couldn't tell if the way she huffed and whimpered her way down his length was because she was high and hypersensitive or because she'd never been with a man this way before. That thought was quickly and harshly banished from his brain, however, his hands finding the plush fat of her hips, fingertips digging hard into the soft, supple flesh.

"Good pup." he breathed out when he eventually felt her ass rest on his thighs, fully sheathing him inside her.

The whimper she let out in response, her tight little clasp quivering around him as she clumsily reached out and braced her hands on his shoulders, made him throb hard, leaving him at least slightly grateful for his intoxication once again. If his numbed brain and body had been able to feel her fully, he knew he would've absolutely shot his load already.

Cooper struggled to stay still as she moved experimentally on top of him, lifting and lowering and grinding herself a few different ways before she found a rhythm that made him let out a throaty moan, the ghost of a smile flashing across her sleepy face as she rode away at him for a while.

What he really wanted, deep beneath all the unwanted feelings and unanswered questions about things he didn't want to think about right now, was to knock her up. For so long now he'd thought of her as his, and now that he'd claimed her, he wanted nothing more than to see her round and full to the brim of him. He wanted her to need him, to be completely dependent on him to provide for her and keep her safe.

He wanted her too vulnerable to get away from him.

On top of him, her movements were rapidly losing all coordination as her glossy, heavy eyelids drifted shut, her head nodding violently as she struggled to maintain her pace. He'd given her too much for someone who didn't use regularly, someone her size, and she was crashing out, falling asleep against her will right there. Poor thing.

He slapped her again, the sound ringing out across the vast, empty desert, watching closely as she startled back into a fully upright posture, her hips stilling for a moment before slowly beginning to churn again, her gaze unfocused.

"Mmm." she murmured groggily, leaning forward and placing her forehead against his shoulder, her arms winding around his neck as she tried her best to keep in some sort of motion.

This gesture, the way she cuddled up to him and sought comfort, support from him, even after the way he'd treated her, the fact that he'd literally just slapped her awake, was the only thing she'd done thus far that truly quelled the ugly, raging anger inside him.

"Thought this stuff was s'posed to wake you up." she sighed into the crook of his neck. She was entering the peak of her high, her body pitifully liquid against his chest as she clearly struggled to stay upright.

Personally, Cooper was reaching the un-fun part of his comedown, where everything started to feel grating and the mind began to uncloud, providing an increasingly painful level of clarity, but the senses remained muddled in a way that provided more discomfort than relief.

"Usually does. You had too much, baby." he responded, the mild chastisement in his tone doing a poor job of hiding the guilt behind it. His naked hands stroked reverently at her back, at the long, wind-swept hair that flowed down it, mindful to hold her so that she wouldn't lilt too far to one side as he attempted to soothe her.

Familiar with the unpleasant swimming sensation too much Jet could give you, he let her relax fully against him, the small sigh she let out one of gratitude as her whole body sagged even further. But she didn't stop grinding against him, probably out of some sort of pleasure for herself, he figured as he could feel her greedy insides tugging around him. He hid his grin again, this time in the crook of her neck as his hands found her hips once more, easily lifting her a few inches before dropping her down again, bouncing her on his cock as she rested.

Things went on like that for a spell, him bobbing and rocking her naked, lax body on top of his as she curled up on his shoulder, cooing and nodding off from time to time. As his high wore off, the sensitivity in his body was returning, and it made her feel more and more overwhelming as he continued to fuck her, her hot, wet little cunt leaking all over him as he continued to use her body to get himself off.

She seemed to be more conscious now than before, though barely, jostled awake by the increasing force of his thrusts up into her, bare breasts heaving with the movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to trace his lips down her chest, sealing them around her puffy, erect nipple and swiping his tongue along her slightly salty flesh. In response, her arms tightened around his neck, holding him on her breast as she clenched around him hard.

"Cooper." she whimpered, and that single little sound pushed him right into what felt like the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had, his fingers digging into her hips far too hard as he dropped her full weight onto him, grinding her down onto his cock and yanking her against him. His head dropped back, dead weight as he let out a feral snarl, tapering off into a throaty moan.

As he throbbed his gift up inside her, she squirmed at the feeling, tucking her bright red face into the side of his neck in what read as slight embarrassment, giving little huffs and whimpers as he continued to fill her. Another, smaller wave of guilt nagged at him as she clung to him, as he held her as close as he possibly could, struggling to regain control of his breathing; even if she'd had sex before, she'd never done this.

He held her as long as she could tolerate, her grip around him loosening slowly as she moved closer to real sleep. His girl was exhausted through and through, lightly snoozing against his chest.

For a few minutes, he let her rest uninterrupted, scanning her over to assess how badly he'd fucked up. She seemed fairly intact, though certainly more bruised than before. Eventually, he went digging into her bag, knowing (hoping) that she would have Radaway somewhere, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he found some jammed into the bottom.

Only one dose; he would have to find her more, and soon. This would be enough to see her through the next day, though, and he was pleasantly surprised to note that she wasn't showing even minor signs of radiation sickness as he found a vein in her arm, starting up the intravenous line to administer the thick, yellowed solution. Surprisingly, she didn't rouse fully when he slid the included needle into place, but she did begin to stir and groan mildly as the stuff began to effuse. Dimly, he remembered being given it when he'd been in the service, and how shitty it could make you feel.

Softly, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his bare knuckles before setting to jabbing her with a Stimpak from his bag around where she'd stuck some staples in her belly, making a note to ask her what had given her the several inches-long laceration he saw there.

He hesitated, though, when he moved to give her a dose of Med-X he'd dug out from the depths of his saddlebag. Most of the Wasteland's mind-rotting and pain-soothing substances were on the table for him, and in great amounts, but he hated the way the opiate made him sluggish and sleepy, reducing his accuracy in a fight significantly. The pain relief it provided wasn't worth it if he ended up dead anyway.

Smoothskins loved it, though, so he usually kept a few syringes on him for bartering purposes. Never did he think he'd be happy to give so much of his stash away for free.

He knew she must be hurting, or, she would be when she woke up, whenever that was. But he was hesitant to give her anything else, both for fear of how she would react, and, somewhat selfishly, because he knew a proper dose would make her sleep even longer, and he was desperate to actually get to speak with her again.

If she asked for the stuff, he'd give it to her. But...tomorrow. After they'd gotten a chance to discuss everything that had happened with cooler, more sober heads. After he was sure she wouldn't wake up in the morning and hate him for what he'd done to her.

His fingers played softly in her mussed hair as the indigo cover of night faded into the periwinkle of twilight, washing her nearly grey in his arms. She slept hard awhile, undisturbed until the awkward angle of her neck made him gently resettle her into a more comfortable-seeming position, letting her slip down until she was curled up in a ball on her side in his lap, her head supported in the crook of his elbow. Lying this way, he'd have to hold her up while she slept, but he found himself strangely excited at the prospect.

"M'sorry I ran away." she murmured suddenly after a long period of silence, readjusting herself in his lap to curl closer.

"I know, kid. I forgive you." he replied after a moment of hesitation, the words soft and strange as they formed on his lips. He petted her hair as gently as he could manage. "Did a good job findin' your way back to me, pup. Proud of you."

"Mmm. Please don't be mad at me." she echoed his own thoughts softly, so slurred as she finally began into unconsciousness that it was barely intelligible, her face buried in his side.

"I'm not." he said, fully, completely honest for once in his long life. He let his eyelids rest, his hand on his gun, ready to stop anyone who would try to ruin this quiet moment under the fading stars. "I promise. Now, get some sleep, pup. I know you came a long way today."

She sighed at that, as if to say "You have no idea." before flopping loosely into his arms, and was snoring lightly within a minute. He allowed himself a small smile at this, at how earnest and adorable she was.

"Good girl." he murmured.

[skaldish]

I’m not sure if you’re a TikTok user at all but I was wondering if you’ve seen any of the witchcraft accounts over there that post “if you’re seeing this video the message is for you” tarot readings or god/goddess messages and what your thoughts are on them?

Personally I really really dislike those kinds of videos but I have trouble articulating why, I just feel like the lack of consent in regards to the “reading” is screwed up and it can also be really bad for people who struggle with discernment or have mental health issues that could be triggered/worsened by receiving spiritual “messages meant for them” on their social media. But I was just wondering if you had any thoughts on it if you wouldn’t mind sharing!

Hi! It's been a few years since I've watched anything on TikTok, but I do remember getting these kinds of videos. The ones I got were far more benign though, in the flavor of "If you see this video, this card is for you!" It is quite a different thing entirely when those videos claim to be messages from deities, and you are correct in identifying that there's something very off-putting about these videos, because there is.

It's true that there is an issue of consent: Someone dumping a reading on you that you didn't ask for is rude, and it's ruder for someone to act as an unsolicited mediator while doing this.

But then there are some very, very deep ethical issues: When someone claims to have a message from a deity for you, they are positioning themself as the unquestionable authority of your current life-circumstances. Their assessment of your circumstances are couched in the authority of a deity, so to question their assessment is to question the deity. Nobody, at any point, has this right, OR this ability to enact judgements.

Conflating their spiritual authority with divine authority is also a method that spiritual leaders use to enact religious abuse: It puts people in positions where doubting their authority means potentially doubting the god they claim to speak on behalf of. So even if someone thinks the authority is lying, it feels unsafe for them to actually believe that for fear of angering the god.

This is how high-demand religions keep their followers from leaving, by associating independent thought with the risk of losing love and belonging.

I honestly think most of these TikTokers are unaware of what they're doing, as opposed to doing this on purpose. They see that this gimmick makes their follower-count go up so they keep doing it. But this doesn't make it any less unethical or any less untoward, and in some ways, the fact they're potentially unaware of it makes the situation worse.

Even if they didn't have all these ethical problems, these videos can't actually function as divine portents because TikTok is a shitty oracle.

Oracles are only reliable when they have no agenda and aren't trying to influence outcomes, which can't be said about TikTok-creators and TikTok's algorithm; they're trying to increase numbers and keep your eyeballs glued to the app. I would have better luck trying to facilitate deity-communication with a Bop-It than with TikTok.

As a rule of thumb, hearing a divinely-inspired message does not mean a deity is trying to communicate to us. It's like how we don't assume a celebrity is talking to us personally because someone is quoting them in our presence.

[hearts4golbach]

Love Handles.

Johnnie Guilbert x insecure!goth!reader.

a/n: this was a request! I can't find it now for some reason and I'm so sad because this is so late, so I don't know if the person will see it :(((.

losing your virginity had always been a fear for you. you were on the thicker side, as your mother would say, and your biggest fear was your boyfriend being disgusted by your body. that's how it had been your whole life, and that's also why you were 27 and a virgin.

you and Johnnie had been dating for about 4 and a half months now. everything was going great, of course. and Johnnie always respected your boundaries regarding sex. you trusted Johnnie with your whole heart, just as he trusted you.

every time you heard him pleasuring himself in the other room, you couldn't help but get turned on yourself. it's not like you didn't want to have sex with him. It's just that he was a skinnier guy. you knew he didn't have a problem with it. I mean, obviously. he was dating you.

you had been working on your insecurities for about 3 months. as much as you'd hate to admit it, the journal shit you saw all over pinterest really did work. you hadn't necessarily been keeping this fact away from him, you just never bothered bringing it up. you weren't fully ready, but all you needed was a push outside of your comfort zone.

not to mention, you had a terrible habit of walking in rooms before knocking. therefore, you had walked in on Johnnie jerking off on occasion. so yeah, you had seen parts of him that he definitely hadn't seen on you.

but one of the rare occasions where you had actually walked in on him, you took it as your opportunity. you wouldn't admit this out loud, but it was your plan from the beginning: to "walk in on him unknowingly." You had learned he had kind of a pattern of when he did and didn't.

you had just gotten out of the bathroom. you were wrapped in a towel as you made your way to johnnies room. truthfully, you had no clue he was in there. you figured he was downstairs eating.

as you were lost in your own thoughts, johnnies pants and moans on the other side of the door weren't apparent to you.

you opened the door, looking straight ahead at johnnie laying in the bed. he looked at you with wide eyes. his cock was in his hand. you weren't surprised, he usually just froze as you profusely apologized and backed out of the room.

he was shocked at the fact you didn't this time. "johnnie?"

he cleared his throat, pulling the blanket over himself. "yeah? are you okay?"

"yeah, I'm fine. I just-" you paused, reconsidering your decision. "I want you to take my virginity."

he sat up, pulling up his boxers. "are you sure? you know there no pressure or anythi-"

"yes, I know. I'm ready, and I want you." you cringed at the words coming out of your mouth. they were too cheesy to be true.

"well then, what the fuck are you waiting for?" he teased, opening his arms.

you practically ran over to the bed, crawling into his lap. his hard on pressed into your pussy that was only covered by the thin towel.

he started off the kiss soft, his lips glided against yours skillfully. you leaned into the kiss, wanting more. he took your hint and kissed you back harder, his tongue swiping your bottom lip. you shuddered under the new interaction with johnnie. your hands made their way up his neck and wrapped into his hair. his hands were on your hips as he slowly grinded you down onto him.

it wasn't too long before he flipped you over so your back was on the bed. he pulled away, breathing heavily. "are you sure you're okay with this?" johnnie asked as his hands rubbed your sides gently. you nodded in response. "can I see you?"

"yes, please." you replied before he took the towel off of you.

his eyes trailed down your body, admiring every inch of it. "you're so much more beautiful than I imagined." one hand massaged your tit, making you slightly arch your back. "and your nipple piercings? how'd I never know about them?"

you shrugged, "I'm not sure," you were barely able to form any words at this point.

he hummed in response before getting down on his knees at the edge of the bed. he gripped your hips and drug you close to the edge along with him. he kissed your inner thighs, making you squirm with excitement.

Johnnie licked a stripe up your slit, making you flinch as he reached your sensitive bud. "fucking shit," you cursed.

"you know what I find hot as fuck?" he muttered in between licks, "the way your makeup is so fucked up after you wakeup or shower. don't get me wrong, I fucking love it when it's not."

he swirled his tongue around, making you moan and attempt to close your legs. he held them open, lapping up your juices like he was dying of thirst.

he sucked on your clit, making you arch your back and grip onto the sheets below you. "does this feel good, baby?"

you nodded, "mhm, fuck- please.." was all you could spit out.

he dover deeper inside of you, his tongue flicking in and out of your tight hole. "you taste so good."

his praises alone could've sent you over the edge in that moment. his tongue moved faster as your moans became louder. a string of curses and johnnies name flowed out of your mouth. as you moaned his name, you noticed it turned him on even more. as his finger tips gripped into your soft flesh, you couldn't help but grip his hair tighter. you felt a knot in your stomach begin to tighten.

"fuck, johnnie, i think i'm gonna cum.." you whimpered, tossing your head back as his only goal was to make you release on his face.

when you came, he cleaned you up with his tongue before kneeling on the bed between your legs. "are you okay, love? do we need to stop?"

you immediately shook your head no. "'wanna feel you." you mumbled, pressing your lips onto his.

he kissed you gently as you helped slide off his boxers. his hard cock sprung out of his boxers, hitting his stomach. your greedy hands flew to his shaft, gently stroking it. you were confident in what you were doing, which was shocking even to you.

Johnnie bucked into your touch, "shit-" he choked out with a whimper. he positioned himself in between your legs. "is this okay? are you ready?"

"yes," you propped yourself up on your elbows, flipping your hair to one side. you were both sticky with sweat, of course.

he lined up the tip of his cock with your entrance before slowly thrusting inside of you. a loud moan escaped your lips. he stopped, giving you time to adjust to his size. it took a minute, a pain rushing through your body as he stretched you out. he caressed your hip gently, attempting to comfort you through the pain.

“you doing okay, love?” he muttered, placing a kiss on your lower stomach. “you already feel so good.”

you bit your lip and nodded, reaching up to rub his cheek. you ran your fingers over the tattoo on his temple. “yeah, i’m okay.”

whenever it began to subside, you gave him the okay to start moving. although it was sort of painful, it was just adding to the pleasure.

he endlessly praised how well you were doing, and how well you were taking him. the room was filled with the noises flowing out of your mouths and the sounds of skin slapping together. You had one hand gripping his arm and the other on his chest for support as you wrapped your legs around his waist, attempting to pull him closer.

“you’re doing so fucking good, y/n.” his grip on your hips tightened as he kissed your forehead.

his thrusts became fast as both of you felt your climaxes approaching. strings of curses and johnnies name flowed out of your mouth and you felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten. “j-johnnie. i think i’m close.”

“me too,” he choked out, his thrusts fast but sweet as he helped you reach your climax. “fuck, we should’ve used protection.”

“i don’t give a fuck,” you felt a smirk form on your lips. “i’m cumming, johnnie.” you moaned loudly and slapped a hand over your mouth as you came around johnnies cock.

he pulled out and come on your stomach. he reached up and cupped your cheek, rubbing it gently as he kissed your lips. “was that good for your first time?”

“that was amazing. i don’t know why i waited so long.” you smiled before kissing him again, moving the sweat soaked raven hair out of his face.

he jumped out of the bed and went to start a bath for you. he soaked a wash rag and gently washed his fluids off of your pussy and stomach. he took his time, kissing and cherishing your body. your heart fluttered, and for once in what felt like forever, you felt confident in your body. you smiled as you watched him clean you up.

you didn’t take your time in the bath, because all you wanted to do was go back to bed with johnnie. when you did, he was laying in bed in his boxers waiting for you. he had snacks and a movie ready to play. his face lit up when he saw you. “hey, beautiful.”