#I know this isn’t a good answer but I def don’t want to try to answer this bc like

[myfairkatiecat]

I'd love to know ur kotlc sexuality head canons cuz Shannon may be too straight to make her characters queer but I know in my hear that sokeefe is bi4bi and biana is a lesbian

I, like shannon, am slightly too straight to know what each character’s vibes are for their sexuality and I would probably screw this up if I tried to answer if you know what I mean 😭 but if anyone who has opinions on this wants to pick it up, feel free!

[bruisedboys]

Eddie loves his shy girl so much, he’ll always call her “my girl” or “the wife” “the mrs” around others just to watch how red she gets 🥹🥹 but soon he finds that calling her the wife feels natural and right, he realizes she’s the only girl he ever wants

he totally does omg. bro def calls you his wife with absolutely no shame. thank u for the ask angel!!

summary: eddie calls shy!you a lot of names. all of them make you flustered beyond belief

shy!fem!reader 1k words

Steve’s invited you all to drinks to celebrate him and Robin finally copping a job that isn’t slinging ice cream or sitting behind a video store counter all day. Eddie’s helping you pick out an outfit. It’s taking longer than you’d expected. Something about posing for Eddie makes you so nervous you can barely walk.

“Are you done yet?” Eddie’s voice on the other side of the door is far from impatient, even though it should be by now.

You grumble something incoherent instead of answering. Eddie heard you and laughs.

“Y/N,” he says seriously. The effect is ruined because you can hear his smile in the way he says your name. “We’re gonna be late, baby. Come out and show me the dress. I bet this is the one.”

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds. It is a nice dress. It’s a good length and makes your chest look nice, the colour looks pretty on your skin. Still, you’re embarrassed. You don’t like dressing up. It feels attention-seeking.

You scrub your face with both hands and take a big breath. “Alright, fine.”

You turn away from the mirror before you can stop yourself and yank the bathroom door open. Eddie’s waiting for you on your bed, sitting pretty, if a little slouched. He has bad posture. But his back goes rigid when he sees you — he sits up straight and lets his jaw drop.

“Babe,” he half-whispers, totally in awe, his eyes blown wide. He’s definitely laying it on thick but you can sense the genuineness underneath it all. His eyes traverse a path down your body and back up again, leaving your skin burning. And he hasn’t even touched you yet. “Baby. Honey. Darling. You look amazing.”

You flush all over despite yourself. “Eddie,” you say, chiding.

Eddie pretends to look offended. “What?” He leaps off the bed and gets one hand around your waist, the fabric of your dress shushing under his touch. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re a real stunner, you know that?”

His other hand finds your elbow and pushes all the way up to your bicep, his fingers pressing into your skin. You burn like a furnace where he touches you. You knew this part was coming.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you say, genuine underneath all the shyness.

Eddie looks like he’s about to say something more but you’re saved from his doting by the phone next to your bed ringing loudly. You make to get it but Eddie beats you to it.

“Hello?” He says into the phone, sounding half-annoyed. “Oh. Hi, Steve. Yeah, no, we’re coming. The Mrs is just getting ready.” A pause in which Eddie meets your eye and winks. You flush even worse than you already were. Eddie goes back to talking to Steve. “Uh-huh. Yeah, we’ll be there in ten. Bye, Harrington.”

Eddie puts the phone back and you try to compose yourself. The Mrs, he’d called you. You feel like you could die.

Meanwhile Eddie’s grabbing his jacket from the bedpost and shrugging it on. “He’s badgering us about being late,” he says, pushing his arms through the sleeves. “We better get going, dove.” He looks up at you, half in his jacket. “Do you need me to carry anything for you?”

My heart? You think. Then maybe your chest wouldn’t hurt so much. You shake your head.

“No, um. That’s okay.” You push your hair behind your ears and try not to show how much he’s undone you with his antics. “I’ll just grab my purse.”

Eddie smiles at you. “Okay. I’ll meet you in the car?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Ten minutes later you’ve arrived at the bar and Eddie’s leading you inside with a hand at the small of your back. He smells good, like the cologne you’d bought him forever ago that he wears basically every day.

You step inside the semi-crowded bar and Eddie spots your friend group before you do.

“They’re over there, by the window,” he says, pointing. “C’mon.”

He takes your hand and pulls you in the direction of your friends. You let him guide you and he pleases, his hand a warm weight in yours. You stare at the back of his head until you arrive at the table. Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan are all here.

“Munson!” Robin cheers. Your eyes zero in on the drink in her hand and you think she’s maybe already a bit tipsy. Then she spots you and beams. “Y/N!”

You smile back. “Hi, Robs. Hi, everyone, sorry we’re late.” You give a sheepish laugh and glance at Eddie. “My fault.”

“It was worth it though, right?” Eddie says enthusiastically, to the group at whole. He throws an arm around your shoulder and jostles you gently. “Doesn’t my girl look great?”

My girl. Your face burns. There’s a chorus of agreement from around the table — it makes you feel better but not better enough that you’re not still flushing furiously.

“Eddie,” you mumble, avoiding everyone’s eyes and staring at the tabletop instead. You elbow him in the side, too gentle for what you feel he deserves.

Eddie laughs loudly. “What?” He asks, even though he knows exactly what.

You huff and wish the floor would swallow you up. When it doesn’t, you let Eddie pull you into the booth next to Robin. It’s a tight squeeze and Eddie’s thigh presses into yours, his jeans warm and rough on your skin where your dress rides up your thighs.

You think Eddie notices this too because he lets his hand fall to your lap instead of his own, spreading his hand over your thigh, his fingers grazing your bare skin. He squeezes you and you try not to show how much he affects you.

“Drinks?” He asks you, like everything is completely normal and you’re not a nervous, flustered wreck right now.

“Okay,” you say, unable to get more than one word out.

Eddie grins wolfishly. You think he’s probably planning on being like this all night. You don’t mind as much as you should.

-

“Okay,” you say, unable to get more than one word out.

Eddie grins wolfishly. You think he’s probably planning on being like this all night. You don’t mind as much as you should.

-

[floral-force]

Breakfast in Bed

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

summary: Simon, the man you met at the bar and kissed good-bye, stays true to his word and visits you the next morning. Little do you know, you've been on his mind as much as he's been on yours, and he wants to devour you.

words: 7.2k+

warnings/tags: EXPLICIT, 18+ ONLY. piv (unprotected), praise kink, pet names, very light consensual choking, d/s undertones (barely), ghost is def an ass and thigh man and you can't change my mind, fluff, banter, a cute ending

a/n: this is a long-awaited part 2 to american hospitality! it can be read as a standalone, but I highly recommend reading AH just for the ambience and more sexy, flirtatious banter (and drunk tf 141)!

masterlist | read on ao3 | taglist

You woke up with a groan, rolling over onto your side. A bright ringtone blared in your ears and sucker punched your hungover brain; you must’ve drunkenly set a morning alarm last night. So, you snatched your phone off your bedside table to silence the offensive, repetitive notes, but paused when you saw that it wasn’t an alarm at all—it was Simon, calling you.

You quickly answered the call and cleared your hoarse throat. “Hello?”

There was an amused rumble on the other end. “Had a good night, did’ya?”

“With no thanks to you,” you jabbed, rolling onto your back and closing your eyes. 

“Not gonna show a little appreciation to the man who paid your tab, love?”

“Not when my head hurts this fuckin’ bad,” you groaned, fingers rubbing your temple as you clutched the phone and held it close to your ear. 

Even if his deep voice was a bit tinny through the phone, you wanted to hear every single syllable, hear every single breath. That was one thing you wouldn’t forget—the way Simon had held your waist in his large hands and bent his head to talk into your ear, pushing the blaring bar music aside so he could heat your skin with every dulcet innuendo. His delicious British accent would haunt your ears for years to come; you don’t think you’d ever forget it.

Simon clicked his tongue. “That isn’t very hospitable of you, is it, sweetheart?”

You bit your lip and smiled, suppressing a girlish giggle at the way the pet name sounded rolling off his tongue. “Maybe not,” you shrugged, opening your eyes and staring up at the ceiling, “but I hope you can forgive me.”

“If you ask nicely, baby, I’ll consider it.”

You sucked in a breath. This Brit had you horny at ten in the goddamn morning. You hadn’t even had a sip of the Pedialyte stocked in your fridge for gnarly hangovers like the one slowly rearing its ugly head as you woke up more and more. 

Simon said your name. “Hm? Will you do that for me?”

“I’ll give it a try.”

“Good girl,” Simon purred. You could hear the smile on his lips as you shakily exhaled, rubbing your thighs together after a needy pulse from your cunt. “When will I see your gorgeous face today?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “It’s a ‘when’?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear with th’kiss I gave you before you got in the Uber.”

Your fingers graced over your parted lips. How could you have forgotten that magical, drunken moment? It almost felt like a dream; too good to be true; except it was, and Simon was there, facing you as your friends and his laughed under the streetlights. Simon was there, and he was gripping your waist, large fingers tracing up the back of your skull as you watched him lift the edge of his balaclava up just enough to meet your waiting lips with his. You remembered tasting vodka and sugar and a hint of smoke as he coaxed your lips open to swipe his tongue across yours before pulling back slowly, staring down at you with heady brown eyes.

Another low, satisfied rumble in your ear as you struggled to respond. “So, when am I meeting you at your flat, love?”

“Shit, what time is it—ten?” 

“A quarter past, yeah.”

You rubbed your bleary eyes. “Gimme, like, half an hour. I need water and Pedialyte.”

“I’ve got’ya covered there, pretty girl.”

“What d’you mean?” you asked, your brow furrowed.

“I mean—”

You nearly screamed when your door creaked open, sitting upright as a pale elbow pushed it open to reveal familiar broad shoulders and mischievous brown eyes. One hand held a phone to a red-tinged ear and the other curled around a plastic Pedialyte bottle, its pink liquid and condensation a bright contrast against the tattooed forearm and the black shirt and dark denim jeans leaving little to the imagination about the toned body underneath.

“—I’ve got it, sweetheart. Don’ even have t’lift a pretty little finger.”

You were too stunned to speak, lowering your phone to your lap as Simon stepped into your room. It took him only a few wide strides to reach your bedside—this was the one and only time you’d be grateful for your small room. He stuffed his phone into his pocket and stared down at you, the rest of his pale skin below his eyes hidden by a black fabric mask looped around his ears. His neck was exposed, and if it weren’t for your dehydration, you’d be lunging for it. Instead, you stared back at him, narrowing your eyes.

“You have blond hair,” you commented, kicking yourself for letting the stupid observation slip out.

The corners of his eyes creased with a hidden smile. “Figured I’d let it see the Chicago sun at least once before I leave.”

Your mattress dipped with his weight when he sat at the foot of your bed, back curved as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. You crossed your legs under your comforter and gave him a smile, leaning forward and running your fingers through the short, sandy strands. He closed his eyes at your touch, leaning his head back just enough for you to notice, even with sleep still clouding your eyes and your head spinning—from one too many vodka crans or arousal, you couldn’t tell. 

“I like it, Simon.”

His eyes fluttered open—such a delicate movement for such an imposing man—and stared at you as you gave his head one last pet before withdrawing and taking the Pedialyte. You opened it and dramatically sighed in relief before taking a long gulp, the sticky-sweet fluid a balm to the consequences of your actions, but not to the heat pooling in your belly. There was only one thing that could fix that—well, four things, to be exact. You’d fallen asleep thinking about i 

“Fuck, that’s good.” You sighed. “Do you have this across the pond?”

“Across the bloody pond, fuckin’ hell.” Simon mocked you, and you gave his muscular bicep a playful shove. He let his body sway with it, shaking his head. “No, but we’ve Dioralyte.”

“Maybe I’ll try it someday,” you said, taking another sip.

He shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, love, maybe.” 

Simon’s eyes darted to the floor, then back to you, the hand on his thigh wandering over to rest on the mountain your knee created poking up under the comforter. You licked your lips and ran a finger over his tattooed forearm, stroking up and down, gently scratching your fingernail across the inked skin, inching down past his wrist and over one of the bulging veins on the back of his hand. It was almost enough to make you forget about the way the room spun around his head and the somber tone of his response.

You shook your head and scooted closer, careful not to jostle the half-empty bottle. His warm hand snaked up your covered thigh, and you were able to smell the smoke and vetiver wafting off his body and able to see amber flecks glinting in his curious eyes. He was intoxicating, and you needed to drink as much as you could before he was gone for good. Simon was intimidating and commanding; but the blush sneaking up towards his eyes, and the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheek with each pass of your fingers through his short hair exposed something tender under his brooding brow. There was something soft in Simon despite the skull jaw printed on the black fabric mask encircling his head and neck below dour brown eyes. 

But now was not the time to poke and prod, to try to stab at the chinks in Simon’s armor. 

No. Right now, you needed to wash your face, drink some water, and figure out what to do about the wetness between your legs.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence that had settled in the room. You walked your index and middle fingers up Simon’s arm, starting the playful journey at his wrist as you spoke. “What did you have in mind for today?”

“You’re not going t’ask how I got in your flat?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head as your index finger stepped over the bend of his arm, your middle finger landing on his thick bicep. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“I could be a murderer, sweetheart.”

“At least you’d be a hot one.”

He tutted at your coy indifference. “Thought you Chicagoans were keen to threats.”

“We all have our weaknesses,” you breathed, your fingers reaching their destination—the edge of his mask. Your nose was inches from where his lifted the fabric covering it, your head spinning with lust and not your hangover, shifting your left side down to set the Pedialyte on the floor so you could place your hand on his chest and feel his heart hammering under your palm.

“You are a goddamn minx, love, fuck,” Simon rasped, his right hand wrapping around the side of your neck, the tips of his fingers trailing up past your hairline, the heel of his palm ghosting over your esophagus. Your blood pulsed through your jugular as he leaned in closer, his black pupils blown as he stared you down. You closed your eyes and shakily exhaled, your heart skipping a beat as the fingers pressing into your left thigh tugged the comforter down, bunching it up at your knee. You couldn’t hold back the quiet, needy sigh when his warm hand touched your bare thigh and squeezed the fat of it, massaging it under his palm as he inched towards the bend of your hip and the edge of your pink panties. 

Simon leaned in and the fabric mask brushed against your hot cheek as he purred into your ear, “You have no idea what I want to fuckin’ do t’you, pretty girl.”

You gently shook your head, sharply inhaling as the hand around your neck slid down to rest over your breast, his middle and index fingers catching on the stretched hem of the oversized shirt covering it.

“You’re right, Simon, I don’t.” You mimicked his movement, dropping your hand over the crotch of his jeans, smirking when you felt his erection under your palm, stroking up his length where it strained against his jeans. Your breath hitched at the sound of Simon’s throaty groan. 

“Bloody hell, baby,” Simon murmured, pulling back and cupping your cheek, his left fingers toying at the hem of your panties, “you’re fuckin torturin’ me.”

“Sorry, I’m not giving you the warm Chicago welcome I promised last night,” you smirked. “But it is very American of me to give a British man a hard time.”

The double entendre made Simon shake his head and chuckle. “When will you Yanks let that shite go?”

“When pigs fly,” you bit your lip and giggled, “or when you fuck me so good I can’t remember how many colonies you lost a war to.”

“I’ll do far more than that, love.”

“Yeah? Prove it, British boy,” you teased.

You gasped when Simon pushed you back into the mattress, your head landing on your pillow, your eyes fixed on the chestnut ones glaring down at you. You kicked the comforter down and off your legs, shivering when the cold air whipped against your bare skin and shivering at the way Simon was looking at you, something dark and hungry lurking behind his eyes and waiting to strike, waiting to hit you with something that only he could give to you.

“You really want me to, pretty girl?” he asked, his growl laced with uncertainty.

You nodded emphatically, reaching up to wrap your right hand around his left bicep, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt to leave crescent indentations on his skin. You wanted to leave marks all over him, wanted to let everyone know that the Chicago girl he fucked was as feisty as her city, wanted them to know he’d had the best pussy of his life in the windy city.

“I want—I need to hear you say it, baby.”

You smiled at the needy word that slipped out of his seductive mouth. “Yes, Simon.” You snaked your other hand under the hem of his shirt, splaying your fingers over his defined abs and parting your lips at the way he groaned. “I need you to give me the best cock of my life.”

A moan slipped out of his mouth, the whine filling the late morning air as sunlight illuminated his tawny hair. “So certain it’ll be th’best, are you?”

“I dare you to prove me wrong.”

His eyes snapped open, his eyebrows knitting together and eyes creasing with a devilish smile. “I plan to, pretty girl.”

You laughed when he flipped you over, his strength startling and thrilling you. Your panties were soaked, your cunt pulsing with need—need that had been delayed for far too long. You lifted your ass into the air with your knees and settled down onto your forearms, spreading your knees a little further apart, ready for whatever may come. You turned your head and pressed your right cheek into your pillow, closing your eyes and sighing as you let yourself begin to fall down the rabbit hole of pleasure that had been teasing you since he’d barged into your room earlier. 

The mattress lifted when he stood with a huff. You heard the old wood floor squeak under his heavy steps, the scratch of denim being forced to the ground, the hurried toss of fabric on the ground. 

He breathed your name. The mattress gently dipped behind your feet. “Fuckin’ hell, look at you.”

You yelped when Simon’s calloused hands grabbed your waist and tugged you to the foot of the bed, your feet dangling off the duvet. He gruffly tugged your shirt up to your neck with both hands, exposing your torso to the chilly apartment air. He ran his large hands down your bare spine absentmindedly with a rumbly, deep sigh, the sound and touch making you shiver. His hand landed on your hip, stroking up and down over the thin fabric barrier hiding your hot skin from him.

“Was thinking about this all goddamn night,” he mumbled lowly, his fingers tugging at the elastic band of your panties.

“Me too,” you breathed, neediness edging your voice.

You arched your back, twisting your neck to get a glimpse of the masked man. Your eyes met his for a moment before they flicked down to take in his toned body, his defined muscles like that of a god’s in the morning light. You ached to run your tongue along every crevice, gently drag your fingers down his sternum and sashay them across his impressive abs, murmur sweet nothings into his pale skin. 

“That’s it, love, arch that back for me, show me that gorgeous arse of yours.” His hands jiggled your ass as you did as told, and he hummed in approval. “There y’go, good girl.”

His purred praise and needy groans as you settled into a deeper arch made your walls quiver. As much as you wanted to lavish Simon with your own devotion, you were content to be at his command. For now, you were content to simper and sigh as he ran his hot hands up and down the sides of your torso, following the curve of your body and squeezing the skin and fat under his fingers. For now, you were content to give in to Simon’s desires, because you knew that the lust that filled his head also filled yours; the heady desire that made his cock throb also made your cunt pulse.

You gasped and scrunched your eyes closed when he clapped a hand onto the fat of your one of your cheeks, playfully huffing when he let out an amused chuckle. He forcefully exhaled and clicked his tongue.

“You are a goddamn minx, love,” he growled, the floor squeaking underneath his words. You jumped when you felt his hot exhale against the back of your sensitive thighs—he’d taken off his mask, you realized. He slapped your other cheek, kneading the meat in his hand as he exhaled in awe. “Christ, look at this fuckin’ thing.”

You giggled, pleased with the maskless exhale and with the admiration lacing Simon’s deep voice. “You like it?”

“Like it?” he asked incredulously. 

Simon chuckled and yanked your panties down to your knees. He desperately worked them off your legs and then spread your knees a little farther apart, exposing your dripping cunt to the cool air. His ragged, hot pants against the suddenly sensitive skin of your left ass cheek made you shudder—he’d taken off the mask. Your fists curled into the duvet, and you bit your lip as Simon pressed a fingertip against the top of your mound, then hissed as he delicately stroked it down the seam of your folds. The care he took to avoid touching your soaked sex drove you wild, sent shocks down your vertebrae, made a delicious heat gather in your gut, and you heard an embarrassing whine slip out of your swollen lips and fill the room.

“Oh, baby girl,” he crooned, pressing a burning kiss into the back of your left thigh under the curve of your ass, “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your proud chuckles were cut short when his thumbs pushed into your folds and spread them open. His tongue licked a sloppy circle around your dripping entrance and his fingers dug into the bottom of your cheeks as you rocked your hips back to experience more of his hot mouth. The fact that he was tall enough to kneel and still be able to eat you out made you go slack-jawed; what else was he capable of doing with size alone? Simon’s nose nudged into your crack and you whimpered the rest of your coherent thoughts away into the duvet when he nudged the tip of his tongue into your aching hole, jumping at the sensation.

He pulled away and released his thumbs, wet lips smirking against your thighs when you whined and pushed your ass back, silently begging for more.

“I knew your cunt would taste delicious,” he groaned, suddenly licking a quick stripe across your hole. “It’s jus’ begging for me t’fuck it.”

Simon continued his quick, teasing ministrations, lavishing your soaking core with his deft tongue. The man took his time, winding you up with each sudden suck on your folds and making you simper whenever on obscene slurp filled the air. He had you nearly howling as the morning light began to shift and heat your already-scorching skin with its rays. Your bones softened with every bit of praise murmured into your slick and sweaty center; each accented and heady “good girl” was a promise of even more sweet nothings yet to come from his wet British lips. Your head snapped up as he abruptly pressed the pad of his thumb against your hardened clit, drawing circles with delicious pressure that had your core tightening and begging for the sweet release Simon had been building up within you with every swipe of his tongue.

“F-fuck, Simon—” you hissed as his tongue nudged into your quivering entrance once again, cutting you off—“baby, please don’t stop.”

You heard him groan and felt the vibrations against your sensitive, swollen folds. “I don’t intend to,” he mumbled, his thumb never slowing and his other hand’s fingers kneading your thigh. “I feel you gettin’ close, pretty girl. Whenever you’re ready, I want you to cum on my fuckin’ tongue.”

You whimpered and shook at his statement, moaning as he continued to fervently lick your cunt, driving you towards that heavenly edge with determined circles and stripes. You noticed yourself languidly rocking your hips, adding a new, delectable motion to the drawings on your clit. Simon kept murmuring your name and nodding his head with muffled praise—“So fuckin’ good for me, such a pretty girl, fuckin’ stunning”—as your whines increased in pitch and volume. 

Your thighs tensed and your core tightened, your hole clenching as you whispered, “Simon—fuck—I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it, lovely, I want this cunt wet an’ ready for me,” Simon growled into your cunt, punctuating his command with furious laps and twists of his tongue.

You repeated your last three words over and over, his dulcet moans harmonizing with them as the holy refrain crescendoed into a glorious orgasm that made you shake and grit your teeth and pant his name. All the while, Simon slowly circled his tongue around your dripping hole, moaning and slipping his thumb off your clit and gliding it slowly up and down your saliva-slick seam. 

You shivered and squirmed at the stimulation, and he pulled back with a low, amused exhale, pressing a wet kiss onto your sweaty thigh as you began to come down from your heavenly high.

“You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” Simon mumbled. “I bet you feel even fuckin’ better.” 

His hands curled around the front of your thighs before sliding back and up over the curve of your ass. You took one last shuddering breath as the floor creaked with his movement, and jumped when you felt his hard, hot cock rest above your crack. From this position alone, you immediately knew this man’s cock was going to destroy you, and your cunt quivered in anticipation of the tight squeeze.

You hummed and sighed. “Your tongue was fucking incredible,” you panted, wiggling your ass against his length, wet and loose and ready for him. 

“Best you ever had, love?”

You nodded emphatically, twisting your head back around to try to give him a satisfied smile. You could only see the left half of his face with the awkward and sharp twist in your neck, but you did manage to catch the corner of his pink lips quirking up into a smile, his ivory cheek flushed pink. You got a glimpse of the bridge of his nose—straight and sharp, a perfect companion to his focused brown eyes. Fuck, he was gorgeous.

“Absolutely, daddy,” you added cheekily, noticing his eyebrow raise.

Simon hummed in approval and chuckled, bending down and pressing his warm skin against yours, placing his right hand on the back of your head. Now, the features were a bit clearer as he tilted his head to the left—the sharp, angular jawline; that strong, straight nose; those thin pink lips that were swollen with arousal. 

“Keep callin’ me that, and you won’t be able t’move when I’m done with you, love,” Simon crooned, petting the back of your head as his tangy breath filled your nostrils, your juices still coating his tongue and lips.

“That’s the idea,” you replied with a giggle, batting your lashes. “I wanted that from the beginning, daddy.”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a wry smile as your eyes gorged themselves on his unique facial structure, cutting off your visual feast with a teasing thrust that sent his thick cock between your legs and pressing up against your sensitive folds. You nudged your knees apart a few more inches and readjusted your back, lengthening and stretching it. You settled back into a deep arch with a mischievous shake of your ass accompanying the movement. Now, you could only hope this new angle would allow his thick cock to slide deep inside your slick cunt.

“Can’t wait to feel you around me, love,” he rasped, running a knuckle gently down your temple to the middle of your cheek. You closed your eyes and smiled coyly, biting your lip and wiggling as you folded your arms underneath your head. Simon’s warm hand dragged up the curve of your back and came to rest on your hip, the other wrapping around his cock, his knuckles pushing up between your folds and into your slick heat. You whined when he swiped the fat head of his cock against your dripping entrance, huffing at his mirthful chuckles.

“What, does my baby need this cock?” Simon purred. You nodded, and he clicked his tongue, tapping your cheek with the pads of his fingers. “Use your words, darling. Daddy can’t hear you.”

His words made the walls of your pussy quiver and pulse, his deep voice penetrating under your skin and tickling your brain and clit at the same time. The man was making you fuck-drunk already and he hadn’t even notched the head of his cock inside your needy hole yet. 

“Please, daddy,” you begged, all shame about your pathetic whines gone and replaced with a burning desire to be claimed. You were breathless as you panted, “P-please, Simon—I need your cock s-so fucking bad.” 

“That’s my girl,” Simon hummed, tapping your cheek and then withdrawing his hand to place it on your ass, fingers digging into the meat of it and making you hiss as he dragged his head up and down your seam, circling over your clit and cruelly nudging at your needy entrance. The sudden and subtle rough kneading and pressure hinted at his growing need, and you shivered at the thought of what was to come.

All the air was expelled from your lungs and your fingers dug into the duvet when he forced his thick length inside of you with a sharp thrust and grunt. Both of his large hands grabbed the fat of your hips as he rocked his, nudging himself deeper with each languid roll. A cry got caught in your throat as you felt your cunt clench around him and suck him in for more. Simon obliged, moaning your name as he bottomed out.

“You take me so fuckin’ good, baby girl,” Simon groaned, inhaling sharply along with you when he pushed in just a little more so his head could gently kiss your cervix.

He dug his fingernails into your skin as he slowly pulled out, holding you in place when you unconsciously followed his movement so he wouldn’t leave you empty and needy. You whined and cried and wiggled, but you were held still by his large, warm hands as he pulled out completely, leaving your pussy gaping and clenching around nothing. 

“Fuckin’ hell, love,” Simon mumbled as he gently eased your lifted ass and arched back forward so you could rise to your hands and await his cock on all fours. He traced a thick thumb around your gaping hole and snickered at your needy whimper. He gently flicked his thumb up and gathered some of the arousal leaking out of your throbbing center, then swirled it around your slick inner folds and hole. “Your cunt’s already cryin’ for me and I haven’t even properly fucked you yet.”

The mattress dipped on your left; looking down, you saw a muscular leg settling in near your waist as Simon urged you to crawl up a bit towards your pillows with a playful tap on your ass. A few seconds later, Simon’s right leg moved the mattress and his muscular thigh brushed against yours. You shivered when Simon’s bare torso fell upon your back, his searing skin colliding with yours. He had caged you in, trapped you underneath his broad, toned body and in his strong arms. You were at his mercy, stuck in the storm, and entirely helpless as he growled and groped you, his hot hands traveling up your soft torso to massage your breasts.

“Then do it already, Simon,” you urged, your pent-up lust infecting your tongue and tone. “Take me, daddy, please.” 

“Jus’ wanna play with my pretty doll a little bit first,” Simon husked. When you groaned in frustration, he shushed you and kissed the back of your head. “Patience, love. Daddy’s gonna take care of his doll soon enough.”

You rolled your head back when he bit into your shoulder and rolled your hardened nipples between his thumb and pointer fingers. Simon soothed the nip with a soft kiss you didn’t think he was capable of before his left hand gently curled around your neck, his hand hovering, waiting for your consent or denial. With a huff, you quickly lifted a hand and pressed his shaking hand against your throat and grinned when he groaned and pulled you up to your knees and into his chest, his cock nestling itself between your folds and brushing against your sensitive clit. Simon’s right hand was splayed across your waist, his fingers trailing over your right ribs as his left wrapped around your neck effortlessly. 

You closed your eyes and leaned back, giving him control as you raised your left arm over your head to find his and thread your fingers through his hair. A tangled moan escaped Simon’s throat at your touch, and you smiled. Yes, he was big and bad and built like a god, but you could bring him to his knees just by petting his soft hair. The strangled cry returned when you slipped your other hand down to where his cock bobbed up against your slick folds and graced your fingertips up the shaft and along the fat head’s weeping slit. 

“You’re driving me fucking mad,” he growled into your temple.

“Now you know how I fuckin’ feel,” you quipped, earning a playful pinch in your side that made you giggle and squirm in his firm grasp.

He hummed and moaned your name as you kept teasing his throbbing cock with your featherlight touches. In retaliation, he gave your neck a gentle squeeze, then settled his thumb and first two fingers over the pulsing veins on the sides of your neck. The pads of his fingers pressed into your jugulars, and the arch of his hand came to softly rest over your trachea to enhance the heady rush that you got from being choked. The pulsing, breathless desire was even more delicious since the man behind the hand was incredibly hot and rocking his hips up and brushing the leaking head of his cock over your sensitive bud, smearing precum over it with the help of your fingertips. 

“You are beyond perfect,” he declared, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I wanna look at your gorgeous face while I destroy you.”

Your cunt throbbed and you nodded enthusiastically, swirling needy circles over your burning clit.

“Would my baby girl like that?” Simon asked with a squeeze. 

You nodded and he released you, a sly chuckle in your ear right before he flipped you down to the mattress on your back, your tits bouncing from the impact as you giggled and tried to grab at his arms with your eyes closed. Your bedframe creaked in protest underneath Simon’s deep, amused hum, but you had a feeling he was going to leave it with a perpetual creak—or just break it entirely.

When you opened your eyes, you took in the man staring down at you as he stroked his cock with his left hand, the muscles under his tattooed left arm rippling with each restrained stroke. Simon’s brown irises were black and blown with lust and need, his cheeks pink like his swollen, thin lips that curled into a smug smile. You made a note to kiss his strong jawline and find out just how sharp it is while running a hand through his tawny hair and clawing at his thick pecs with the other. 

The morning was in full bloom, its bright light illuminating the sweaty dew on Simon’s chest and forehead. Simon stared down at you and let his hand wander all over your body as one of yours worked needy circles around your clit. He shook his head and spit in his palm, and your lips parted as he wet his cock with it before placing his hands by your ears, caging you in. He nudged your legs further apart with his knees, the head of his cock teasing your throbbing entrance. Simon’s hungry eyes never strayed from yours, even when you closed your eyes and begged him to fill you again.

“You’re a needy little thing,” he muttered into your cheek, the chain of his dog tags brushing across your chin as the tags fell flat in the divot between your clavicles. 

“Please,” you breathed, driving your body down to try to notch him inside of you, but he just clicked his tongue and moved along, denying you the relief you craved. “Stop teasing, daddy.”

Simon drew back and pinched your chin between his fingers. “Such a whiny girl.”

You rolled your eyes, the Chicago fire within you blazing to the surface. “I wouldn’t whine if you just gave me what I want.” 

Simon raised an eyebrow, curious and amused. His hand wrapped around your throat, and he applied a little more of that exciting pressure than he had before, your lips splitting into a grin. He shook his head and released your neck, spitting into his palm and then slipping his hand between your bodies. 

“You’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you, princess?” 

“And what’re you gonna do about it, daddy?”

Simon tilted his head and smiled sardonically down at you. Before you could tease him for his silence, two of his thick fingers forced themselves inside of you, twisting and pumping in and out. You jumped and cried out, digging your nails into his forearms. He repeated your name three times with a condescending tone, chastising you as your pussy squelched with each delicious pump of his fingers. 

It was embarrassing how close you already were to a second orgasm, but the shame disappeared when Simon leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. You parted after a few seconds, only to catch each other’s swollen lips once again in a hungry, sloppy kiss as his fingers continued to work you open in preparation for his throbbing length. Simon’s thumb began to press circles into your clit as his fingers curled in and out of your clenching cunt, making you moan into his mouth with each pass of his fingertips over that hidden sensitive spot inside your cunt. 

Simon pulled away and gave you devilish smile, his lips wet with saliva. 

“I think I’m gonna fuck that American attitude right out of you, lovely.”

You bit your lip and nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

He kissed you and withdrew his fingers, leaving you achingly empty again. Your whine was quickly replaced with a heady sigh as he rubbed circles around your clit again with his cock. He dropped to rest his left forearm on the mattress, his sweaty abs brushing against your damp skin, his eyes locked on yours. 

“You are so fuckin’ perfect, baby,” he murmured, his hand wrapping around the top of your skull as he pressed a needy kiss into your wet lips.

It was while your mouth was occupied that he slid inside of you, making you gasp and grab at his shoulders. He raised himself up off his left forearm—damn, this man was strong—and planted his right hand next to your ear again as he slowly rocked his hips. His strokes slowly went deeper and deeper; Simon was playing with you like you were his own personal doll—and part of you didn’t hate that thought as you met his eyes and felt your heart skip a beat at the way he was looking at you with lust-blown pupils and a determined brow, his lips slightly parted for hot breaths to escape and blow across your dampening forehead. 

Simon was a god in the bright morning light, illuminated and sparkling. But with the way he set his intense gaze on you, the way he stared at your body with reverence, how he worshipped your wet, throbbing pussy with every fluid stroke, you’d think that he was the servant, and you the goddess whose altar he devoted his life to tending. Your name was like a sacred hymn to him; he choked and held back until your pussy began to spasm ahead of your building orgasm, and then he sang it out, filling your room with his musical moans.

You dug your nails into his carved shoulders, gripping him for dear life as you bent your knees and moved them up. Simon pulled out with a growl and then straightened, grabbing your thighs and yanking you towards him so your ass was in his hands.

“Put your legs up on m’shoulder—that’s it, good girl,” Simon husked. 

He pressed a kiss to your knee and notched the head of his cock at your soaked hole. He shook his head and gave you a soft smile—yet another thing you didn’t think he was capable of, but maybe the mask and tough exterior had you fooled—as he stroked your cheek. 

“You feel amazing inside of me, Simon,” you sighed, smiling back up at him. “I’m literally about to cum again.”

He seemed to perk up at that. “Is that so, princess?” 

You nodded, and he kneaded your ass before leaning over you and planting his hands by your shoulders. You let your legs fall open a bit more as his cock slipped inside of your aching cunt, a tease of what was to come.

“I want you to ruin me,” you pleaded, raking your hands up and down his sweaty back.

“Keep your eyes open while I do it then, pretty girl.” Simon shifted and pressed a kiss to your shin with a wink. “And tell me when you’re goin’ to cum again for me, princess.”

You nodded, then let your mouth fall open as he thrusted into your needy cunt, bottoming out with a groan. Simon began to fuck into you, his hips slamming into the fat of your ass, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air along with the dirty symphony of moans and whimpers. You did as told, your eyes never leaving his as he fucked you without mercy. The muscles in his back flexed and strained underneath your hands as he began to speed up, his erratic pace and rhythm revealing how needy he really was under the surface. 

He tilted your ass up a little bit and you cried out, scrunching your eyes closed as your abdomen tightened and fire began to spread throughout your cunt.

“Si-Sim-Simon, fuck! I’m gonna fucking cum!” You shouted and licked your index and middle fingertips, then started to rub furious circles around your clit, the fire of your orgasm about to engulf you.

“Oh, good fuckin’ girl,” Simon groaned. “Look at me, baby, keep those eyes open.”

You blinked your eyes open and were met with a proud smile from Simon as he continued to pound into your squelching cunt and slam into your cervix.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he purred.

You whined and rubbed your fingers around your white-hot clit even faster, your circles turning into furious swipes from side to side as Simon’s thick cock split you open. All you could do as your climax began to burn you up was stare into his eyes and whimper and moan in absolute pleasure. Your entire body was heavy with arousal and lust, but you somehow started to curl up off the bed as your abdominal muscles tightened in preparation for the eventual scorching fire.

“Go on, love, cum for me—make daddy so fuckin’ proud,” he coaxed, gritting his teeth as his own orgasm started to approach. “You can do it, princess, y’look so fuckin’ beautiful when you do—”

You cut his praise off with a shout of his name as your orgasm burnt you alive, and Simon immediately followed you off the fiery cliff with a thundering moan and one last, sharp thrust as he filled your spasming pussy with his spend. For a little while, all you could do was twitch and take deep, shuddering breaths as your orgasm continued to pulse through your cunt. Simon was hunched over you, a few drops of sweat landing on your sticky skin as you finally gathered the strength to wipe your sweaty brow with a shaking hand.

You slowly lowered your upper back and head back down to the mattress and wiggled your toes; your orgasm was so intense that you’d curled up and were still shaking from the force of it. Simon shuddered when he pulled out of you, giving you a concerned look when you winced in pain. 

You gave him a reassuring smile and sat up. “I’m okay. I’m just—ah—” you winced as you swung your legs to the side of the bed and stood up on wobbly feet— “gonna be sore for a day.”

“Well, that’s a shame.”

“Why?”

“I was going to—erm—” Simon cleared his throat and rolled his neck out before continuing. “I was going t’ask if you’d be so kind as to take me around on a tour of the city.”

You grinned, plopping back down and ignoring the sharp pang from the impact of your sore, leaking cunt against the mattress. You looked into Simon’s brown eyes, finding something a little shy. It was endearing, even if you knew that today would be the last time you’d ever see him.  Realistically, nothing could come of this—an international hook-up caused by a spilled drink—but you’d try your best not to think about that while showing Simon around Chicago. Instead, you’d try to focus on how he scrutinizes everyone around him, how he could potentially make taking the city’s public transit easier, and how you could maybe get to hold his hand if you play your cards right.

He called your name, snapping you out of your somber thoughts. Simon was standing now, tugging on his underwear as the sun lit his toned body up and made your spent pussy throb again when your eyes landed on his perfectly illuminated bulge.

“So?” he asked, looking at you with raised eyebrows.

“As your unofficial Chicago ambassador—” 

“S’you’re an ambassador because you took a mingin’ shot with me?” 

“Yes. Hush.” You stood and closed the short distance between you both, shivering when he wrapped his warm arm around your still-bare body without hesitation. You looked up at him and took a breath. “As I was saying, since I’m you’re Chicago ambassador, it would be my honor to be your tour guide, Simon.”

“I don’ think I’d be able t’find one prettier than you, love.”

Simon bent his head down and tilted it, his nose inches from yours. You felt your cheeks grow warm and your heart skipped a beat when he lifted your chin up with his fingers, the tip of his thumb dusting over your bottom lip. Now, with a less-clouded head and vision untainted by sex, you could see the finer details of his skin—a jagged scar a few inches long stretching up his cheek starting at the edge of his upper lip on the left, two tiny, brown dots right below the curve of his right eyebrow, a fine line in his forehead from age or stress—and appreciate it fully in the clear light of the morning.

“There are plenty of girls in Chicago,” you murmured, trying not to get lost in Simon’s handsome features or swept away in his arms.

He shook his head and parted his lips slightly. You moved closer to him and brushed your nose against his and placed a hesitant hand on his broad, muscular chest.

“There’s only one American lass that I want,” Simon insisted. He looked into your eyes and his lips brushed against yours as he whispered, “You.”

masterlist | join the taglist!

a/n: it felt so good to finish this after being blocked for so long. I hope you enjoyed; please reblog if you did, it's how us creators get exposure!

taglist: @tizylish @dheet @sinfulsalutations @oliviagreenaway @johfaam0 @sofasoap

[sicbaby]

sended this to another acc i really like but ill send this here too :p

vendetta!leon with the biggest corruption kink ever and the girl (reader) that lives in the house just next to his, that always make sure to wish him to "have a good day" when she sees him and gets all red when he says it back, that when she bakes something she always make sure to save some to give it to him, and she tries to have a "friendship" with him so bad but he always seems to ignore her

and he does tries to ignore her because he knows he is def not a good man, he knows it so he always try to show to her that he is not a person, but shes just too stupid to realize that to the point that it makes him a little annoyed and worried for her, it still makes him hard lol

i love vendetta leon cause let’s be real he’s the biggest piece of shit alive and he’s an alcoholic so added bonus! i fantasize about him treating me like shit… anyways.

i imagine reader being a bit of a bimbo of some sort. like so dumb in the brain that there’s absolutely no room for sad or depressing or actual real thoughts that would ruin her day. and leon’s the exact opposite. all he thinks about is sad, fucked up shit that would probably make you vomit on the spot. but he likes that about you, your innocence. it makes him a bit sick, realizing he wants to do nothing but take advantage of you and expose you to the dark thoughts he has.

he can’t deny you’re sexy. those short skirts and low cut tops that have your breasts practically spilling out when you wave good morning to him. the crush you have on him is so painfully obvious. leon isn’t used to that. are you his type? not exactly. but he thinks he could have some fun with you.

he doesn’t start getting annoyed until you start leaving shit on his porch. cute notes, food items, weird love letters that look like a middle schooler made them with cute stickers and heart doodles all over. he’s a grown ass adult for christ sake. he rips up the letters, leaves the remnants on the porch for you to see.

you do see it, makes your heart wrench. yet you keep trying. you really, really like him.

in one last attempt at trying to get his full attention, you take over some food to his house, not just leaving it on the porch this time.

leon answers the door with a scowl on his face. he sees the food and your hopeful smile. “come in.” he grumbles, no greeting necessary. it ticks him a bit that you genuinely think you could win him over this way. your heart flutters as you walk in, taking in his messy house, setting the food down on the counter.

“you know, sweetheart. i’m not an easy man to please. yet, here you are…” he trails off.

you’re so nervous, face burning and throat so dry you feel like throwing up. “i-i just.. wanted to be a good neighbor, you know?”

“bullshit.” he responds quickly, makes you flinch slightly. he couldn’t help himself.

“a good neighbor,” he repeats, a dark chuckle following it. “is that really what you think? you think leaving me food and love letters makes you some kind of saint? don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. this isn’t about being a good neighbor. it’s about you wanting something from me. something you can’t seem to get through that empty, pretty little head of yours.”

he enjoys watching your facial expressions. your smile faltering, face turning into uncertainty. he knows he has the power to turn you into anything he wanted. it was too easy. he called you pretty, though!

“you think i’m some prize, some object to be won, don’t you?” he continues. you’re stunned, mouth open slightly, wanting to interject but nothing comes out.

“relax,” he chuckles. “i’ll let you have me. but i want something from you, first.” he says, inching closer to you, trapping you against the counter. his words were not a promise, merely a trick to get you to give yourself up to him. but he probably didn’t even have to “trick you.” one word and you’d be on his knees for him, wouldn’t you?

you nod eagerly, just as predicted. god, it makes him laugh, it makes him hard. how’d he get so lucky? you didn’t even put up a fight. “anything. i’ll do anything.”

those words triggered something in his brain. and you had absolutely no idea what he was going to do to you. he grabs you by the wrist roughly, leading you to his dark bedroom, throwing you on the bed. he starts degrading you, calling you “slut” and commands you to address him as “sir,” or maybe even “master.” (he’s a sick fuck let’s be real, wants you to be his dumb little pet.)

he could see the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, but you both know you had already given yourself up to him. but that didn’t really matter to him anyway.

he crawls over you, pinning your arms up above your head, kissing at your neck. you could smell the alcohol on his breath as he did so. it made your stomach churn but made your panties wet.

he continues to practically rip your clothes off, muttering things along the lines of “you’re mine now,” “such a pretty little slut,” etc,. every single movement he makes is rough. including spanking, choking, unleashing all his pent up anger, his darkest desires onto you. your pleasure comes second to his.

you’re completely at his mercy, almost like a toy to him. but you like him so much, so you let him :(. you just wanna be his dumb girl.

he ends up fucking you in every single position until you’re a drooling, senseless mess.

not only were you his dumb girl, but you were his slut, his toy, his possession. and in the end, that’s all that mattered to you. at least now, you were finally his.

[nqify]

hi hi, i'm liking your stuff, and welcome to the quaritch hellhole!

he's a certified sadist here, and smth tells me you'd be the perfect person to elaborate on his humiliation kink. pls do! ty :):):)

hi!! omg thank u SOSOS much!! ur WRITING IS MWAH SO GOOD!! i know I’ve already posted but I needed to write this!! like my god, this request got me thinking THINGS!!! Love im sorry if it’s short PLS FORGIVE ME!!!

humiliation kink. — miles quaritch ☆

pairings. na’vi!miles quaritch. fem!reader

content warnings. girl. read the title.

note. if you don’t like getting made fun of by our boyfriend, this ain’t for u baby!!

oh he’s a sadist alright!! he loves and I mean he loves causing you pain (with pleasure ofc) choking, spanking, tying up, you name it!! this fucker has got it under his belt!!

due to his sadist ways, miles loves humiliating you!! especially with his words cuz duh?? he’s a certified dirty talker.

this guy is huge right? like hung for sure. you’d try taking his cock while ur riding him. His hands would be grabbing the sides of your thighs and smirking up at you. You’d be struggling ofc, barely fitting all of him in and this fucker is like, “can’t even take my cock?, such a stupid baby” and youd be here for it. “what a fucking nasty bitch you are, you like me calling you stupid?? you’re that much of a slut huh?” girl u r drooling.

at this point your done trying to fit him all in and give up. this guy picks you up and slams you down on the bed, “you’re such a fucking slut that you’re making daddy do all the work, you can’t do shit by yourself can you?? Cant get off without daddy huh?” and you’d just nod over and over again.

AND BC miles loves loves you being vocal, he would go CRAZY when u answer back, “who’s my stupid little baby, huh?” and you’d whine, “m-me, I am!!”

or when u don’t answer back, your just a mumbling mess, drool leaving the corners of your mouth while ur lips become all puffy and pink. he’d just laugh in your face, “can’t even say a single word?? this dick too good baby?? making you all stupid in the head??” Yes it is daddy.

mirror sex y’all. god this man will use his humiliation kink to his advantage. He’d have you doggy style, ass up in the air while ur head is getting shoved into the ground. He’d noticed the mirror in front of you two. HE GETTING IDEAS!!

Miles would grab the roots of your hair and push your body up to where your back is now touching his chest. “Look baby”, he’d point to the mirror, “look at the mess you made” specifically talking about the ring of cum around his cockGIRL!

you’d roll your eyes back at the pure pleasure, leaning the back of your head on his shoulder. uh uh girl he wants u LOOKING TOO!! he’d grab your cheeks and pull u from his shoulder, “want you to look at how much of a dirty slut u are” u fluttering around him for sure

Miles would notice, “fuck u like that??” dude is laughing at you. Your not saying anything, just moaning and whining, grinding against his dick. “My stupid sluts tryna cum?? that’s all you do right? just cum over and over again, just for me?? for daddy right??” your nodding. “I want you to say it, say your daddy’s slut little cum slut, c’mon be a good girl” girl u r shaking.“I-I’m d-daddy’s l-little cum slut ah!!

would use his humiliation kink in public FOR SURE!!! let’s just say both your friends are over and he’d pull you aside, saying he needs to tell you smth. that smth was his dick girl.

Your back now arching off the walls in the hallway, so close yet so far from your friends. His hand would be covering your mouth, blocking any of ur little whines. He’d keep you close, practically hugging u at this point.

”f-fuck baby, you like getting fucked when ur friends could catch us at any moment mm?”. that def hit a spot. “Yeah mama? ur so dirty ain’t you? you want them to catch you being such a slut for me, isn’t that right?” U R NODDING YES YESYES!!

he’d cum right inside you and make u not clean it so you feel more humiliated. Your friends def knew what was going on by the messy hair and puffy lips - but trying to cover up the fact that u have his load still in you?? have fun girl.

he’d come up from behind you and whisper, “ur dripping some mama, don’t you want my cum in you??” He mocks you. UR EMBARRASSED!!! “such a fucking dirty slut..” girl u r crying at this point!! He is coming for you, “my little dirty slut isn’t that right pretty?” only for u daddy MWAH

requests are wide open baby!!!

[hismercytomyjustice]

Today’s therapy session went a little like this…

Therapist: You have to feel and acknowledge your feelings.

Me: no, 💖

But in all seriousness… Yet again found myself being like “Yay, the OCD spirals have been almost nonexistent lately!”

Only to, in the middle of talking to her about something, realize “…oh shit, my drive for perfectionism is another OCD spiral isn’t it..?”

My Therapist: ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

GODDAMMIT.

But I also found out last week (when I finally saw a psychiatrist at my therapist and doctor’s behest) that the typical dose for OCD of my current meds is 2-3x higher than what I’ve been on for the past like two years. Apparently that dose was more suited to “generalized anxiety” and not, in fact, for “OCD brain ghosts.”

So that’s getting bumped up. And my Adderall is probably going to get bumped up too. It hasn’t been doing much for me for a while now and I’m on a really low dose for it.

The psychiatrist also said we need to figure out whether or not I have autism because that’s going to greatly impact what she prescribes. Basically she wants to help me rather than medicate my brain into submission lol. Which I def appreciate!

I also met with the autism specialist my therapist recommended (whaaaat having OCD means you’re more likely to have autism???) who kept asking me things and was just giving me very “uh huh” looks the whole time accompanied by “Yes, that’s an autistic trait. That too. And that.”

But like, she’s asking me questions to sort out stuff like special interests and I’m just like what qualifies as a special interest and not a hyperfixation or a normal amount of interest? What is a normal amount of interest?

Same with questions like “are you a picky eater.” Like, what does that mean? By whose standards? What is the scale we’re working with here?

It does not help that a good chunk of my family and friends bare minimum at least have ADHD. Because I’m sitting there comparing myself to them and I’m pretty sure it’s a bit of a “Spiders Georg” situation.

Like…what is a normal amount of research when it comes to things you’re interested in? Because I don’t know everything about Mount Everest. But for like a month or so there, I was trying to learn everything I could about it. Wouldn’t that be a hyperfixation then? But I only eased up because I wasn’t coming across much in the way of new info, so IDK.

Same for like…what is considered a normal amount of liking a particular piece of media? Doesn’t everyone have stuff they enjoy and want to learn more about? And like…there are plenty of people who know more about POTO than I do. Not among my immediate friends and family, but I’ve seen them out on the internet. I know they exist.

What’s an ADHD level of sensory issues vs an autism level? And what’s an OCD level of liking things to be the same way vs an autism level? (╯°□°）╯

She can’t give me a formal diagnosis, as she does more like…autistic life coaching, but she did say she has someone she recommends for full blown testing if I want to get a second opinion, so that’s something I can consider.

It would just be the bee’s knees if my OCD didn’t keep sending me into spirals over this. I have had multiple qualified people tell me I probably have it now, and the ONE person who I got an actual assessment from (who never met me because she was just the assessor’s supervisor) is the only one who’s like “eh, not enough.”

Which just keeps sending me in “it’s not autism, it’s just the perfect combo of OCD and ADHD to make people think you have autism” loops.

God it’s so fucking annoying being in my brain sometimes.

Most times.

All the time.

But hopefully over the next few weeks I can get a solid answer on that front one way or another so I can stop ruminating on it. Whaaat reassurance seeking behavior??? In this economy?!

[totalfknloser]

can you do zakk romantic and smut headcanons where he sees a girl at a local gig and decides she's his next hookup but accidentally catches feelings upon getting to know her and finding out she's actually pretty cool and insanely into metal and all the things he is ?? thank you i love your headcanons for him so much

YES THIS IS SO CUTE (praying my headcanons don’t start to sound repetitive also it’s almost 5 am LMAO so if this sounds more like a fanfic i’m so sorry) (okay this does in fact sound more like a fanfic because i genuinely can’t at all figure out another way to write this. yep this is def more of a fanfic with hints of headcanons)

.⛧°+.+°⛧.

⛧ Zakk totally was checking you out and he did not try to hide it. it’s depending on the girl but i don’t think he would usually avoid being stealthy with checking a girl out. you were fixated on him from the start of the gig so when you saw him being possibly interested, you almost squealed with joy.

⛧ tbh idk if zakk would straight up “hey, wanna fuck?” or get to know you just to get you to fuck you but then accidentally really like your traits and personality, but for the sake of keeping these not too sexual, we will do for the second.

⛧ Zakk would talk to you a lot, and you’d do the same. you both would ask questions about each other and unlike you, Zakk started showing romantic interest a lot slower than you did, but it was still there and still growing. Zakk would ask you all kinds of music related questions and about your interests and he really started to take a liking to them.

⛧ Zakk’s questions would slowly get more personal as you’d be walking cause he doesn’t wanna end up fucking some freak or get an std or whatever. “you don’t have herpes or some shit, right?” he asked in a bold tone. “nah, what about you?” you didn’t show that much discomfort, you could tell what you were getting into just by the look of the boy. he responded with “No.”

⛧ you both got to his place and he started off pretty quick. Zakk would definitely not be one for much sweet stuff before sex. sure, Zakk would definitely give you occasional kisses and give you all kinds of passionate touches along your body. Zakk would totally touch your tits if you got any and give you a couple hickies and love bites just to show everyone who meets you for the next week that you’re gonna be his.

⛧ Zakk would really try to push his growing romantic feelings back down as you both get more and more intimate with each other and eventually you both fuck each other like bunnies on the last day of earth. Zakk would only whisper small amounts of mixed degradation and praises cause he isn’t really sure if you’d like to be called a slut or whore too much. he very obviously doesn’t want you to leave, at least not yet.

⛧ even for just a one night type of thing, he was good and you were in heaven. after you two were done, he almost contemplated asking you to leave so he can get his romantic feelings to fuck off, even if he’d miss you for a few days. but Zakk was too tired to care and he just fell asleep with you while you were in his arms.

⛧ Zakk has never done much aftercare in his entire life whenever he’s with a chick or two. you weren’t really knowing what you’d expect, either aftercare or not wasnt a problem really.

⛧ when you guys would wake up, you’d sit in awkward silence for a few minutes till you picked things up and ask if he wants to go out sometime.

⛧ the boy is absolutely stunned by your question, but he would answer, and very nervously. “O-Oh, uhm, yeah, sure.”

⛧ after you guys hung out a lot you eventually actually asked if you wanted to date each other and of course he said yeah.

⛧ it would take him a while to get used to caring for a girl for like, ever. Zakk has never really had relationships besides in his mid teens because he wasn’t done with trying for romance back then. you guided Zakk through romance and he really enjoyed it. you two would go on dates, especially dates late at night. you’d also learn to cook or if you already have cooking skills, make food for the both of you because Zakk was incredibly hesitant to go out in public doing all that sweet shit. as i said in the past, he doesn’t wanna be seen as a huge softy.

⛧ you both would love each other blah blah blah and go to shows all the time together and do all that fun shit and grow old together and die together and love each other as cute little ghosts and haunt people for fun.

.⛧°+.+°⛧.

hope this wasn’t too disappointing!!

[aira-writes]

BNHA Boys as Normal College Students

Pairings: Dabi x Fem! Reader

Genre: one-shots, fluff, humor, crack, college au, sfw, bnha imagines

Warnings: language, suggestive (idk lol?), chaotic (i warned ya)

A/n: I was about to post this together with the first part but didn’t have time to edit it. It’s my first time writing a Dabi one-shot so idk if he’s OOC or not. Hope you like this one!

•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

Today’s the time that you left school extremely late. You didn’t have a choice since you were the Glee club’s president—your classmates all voted you to be—so you and the other members of the organization had to stay up late and help decorate the gym for the fancy ball event that’ll be held this Friday. It was a bit dark when you left the schoolgrounds with your other members but they had to leave first because they were in a hurry.

         Jiro—your vice president—offered to take you home before she left but you declined since your boyfriend always takes you home, himself. Jiro was reluctant to leave you alone since the sun’s already about to set, but you reassured her that your boyfriend’s coming so she could just go ahead.

         So now, you’re alone in the parking lot as you waited for him. You were worried what’s taking Dabi so long. You even sent him a few chats asking him where he is. And him not being able to reply meant that he must be busy.

         10 more minutes have passed but you kept waiting.

“Want a ride, babe?” an unfamiliar voice spoke behind you which startled you.

         You shook your head as a reply. “No, thanks.”

         “Come on. It’ll be dark soon. Don’t want you alone and scared here all by yourself.” He took a few steps near you. This guy seemed like a junior—so he’s one year older than you. Seeing his face made you realize that he’s one of the members of the football team but you just don’t know his name nor are you even interested to.

         “Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine here on my own.” You forced a smile. You got a feeling that this guy isn’t taking no for an answer and you hated the fact that he’s kinda pushy and won’t leave you alone.

         “You sure?” He took another few steps so he was now a bit nearer than before, which creeped you out.

         “Def sure.”

         “It’ll be wrong of me to leave you here all alone, y’know. So I suggest letting me take you home. I have my car parked right here.”

         “I already said no. I can take care of myself. You can go.” You turned your back away from him as you pulled out your phone to try and contact your boyfriend again.

           “I’m being a good guy here, babe. You sure you don’t want a ride? I don’t bite, I promise—” You really hated pushy guys the most. And the fact that it seems like this guy isn’t going anywhere and keeps advancing towards you is making you feel extremely creeped out. “—well unless you wanted me to.” He chuckled.

         You were about to let out a snarky reply so he could leave you alone when a familiar voice beat you to it.

“The only thing she’ll be riding is me. Now get lost kid.”

 You had your back turned from the owner of the familiar voice but you didn’t miss to sense the scary aura that the voice emitted. It feels like it was laced with poison or something.

           “Oh—uh—Oops, I didn’t know you have a boyfriend. Sorry, I’ll go now.” The creepy guy almost bolted to run as both of you watched him walked towards his car—he even struggled a bit to insert his keys.

         You turned to your boyfriend who now has his free hand resting gently—protectively—on your waist.

         “Sorry I was late, doll. Had to do some errands.” He kissed the side of your head, still looking towards the guy who was now driving off. You didn’t have to be a psychic to sensed that he was giving sharp glares to the creepy guy who kept bothering you earlier. And the fact that the creepy guy almost looked white when he landed one more glance to your direction—was a dead give-away.

         You playfully pinched your boyfriend’s sides that earned a yelp from him. “You skipped school again, didn’t you?”

         “Hey—ow. That hurt.” He chuckled as he leaned away from your pinches, hand still on your waist. “I made sure to perfect the quiz before leaving, doll. So don’t worry.” He gave you a playful wink as you both started walking to where he parked his bike.

         You snorted. Dabi’s one smart student. Yeah, a lot of people would view him as the bad boy because he smokes, has a lotta tattoos, and skips school. His dad being one of the school’s stakeholders, and him perfecting almost all his quizzes and exams are the only thing that’s keeping the dean from kicking him out of the school amidst all of his rule breaks.

         “You still shouldn’t skip school.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mrs. Puff.” He teased.

“And it’s a good thing you didn’t smoke again.” You didn’t get a whiff of cigarette smell on him so he’s in the green. You don’t wanna be a controlling girlfriend but you’re just worried about his health.

Is worrying about your boyfriend’s health a sin?

“I told you, doll. No more cigarettes for me.”

“Don’t abruptly stop it!”

He got confused and chuckled. “You don’t want me to smoke but when I quit smoking you don’t want me to stop it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t stop smoking abruptly or you’d get withdrawal symptoms!”

“Right, Miss nurse. Noted.” He winked for added effect.

You glared at your boyfriend. “And what was that earlier?”

“What do you mean?” He has this amused look in his face again like he always does.

You turned to him and crossed your arms, still walking towards Dabi’s bike. “That ‘the only thing she’ll be riding is me’,” you quoted.

 He chuckled. “Get your head out of the gutter, doll. I meant my bike.” You both stopped walking when you arrived in front of where your boyfriend parked his motorcycle.

“Of course I knew you were referring to the bike!” You whined and he let out another one of his amused chuckles. You felt heat rising to your cheeks and was irritated at the same time because he was again trying to tease you like he always does.

“Don’t even let me get started on that ‘Now get lost, kid’, Dabi.”

He handed you a helmet which you received but was still fuming and embarrassed. “You’re just a year older than him and I’m a year younger than him! Wdym ‘kid’? Then you’re indirectly saying I’m a kid too.” your brows were furrowed.

You knew it was petty to try to start a fight with your boyfriend but the way he was letting out only amused looks and chuckles made your blood boil.

“Stop pouting and get on the bike already, sweetheart.” He grinned.

You grumbled but still got on the bike and wore the helmet that he handed you. “Cute. Now hold on tight—”

“Ta-ta-ta! Not so fast. Where’s your helmet?” you scolded. You hated the fact that he would ride his bike without helmet on. He drives like crazy most of the time—you know that he’s decreasing his speed when you’re riding with him which you think is so thoughtful even when he’d deny it—that’s why you always remind him to have an extra pair of helmet on.

“Left it at home. Don’t worry, I’ll drive slo—”

“We’re definitely not leaving not until you wear a helmet on.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Helmet.”

“I only brought the helmet you’re wearing—”

“Wear this then.” You were about to take the helmet off when he stopped you. “Definitely not.” He shook his head. “—plus it won’t fit me since it’s meant for your tiny head—”

You ignored his teasing. “Then wear the other one. You brought it didn’t you?” You get off the bike to try and search the trunk for the other helmet.

“Nope.” He said, fast as possible which seemed fishy.

“I knew you brought it. Wear it now so we could leave already, Dabi.”

“Babe—”

“Okay then. We’ll just sleep here in the parking lot and—”

He groaned. “You’re so stubborn, sweetheart. Fine, I’ll wear it.” He took out the other helmet from the trunk and wore it. He raised the glass covering his eyes and grumbled. “Happy now?”

 “Yup!” You nodded and giggled, smiling in triumph and got on the bike again as you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend.

He stepped on the engine, and just before he drove off— “You look cute in that hello kitty helmet, baby.” Which earned you a groan from him. And before you even had time to say reply back with a witty remark—he already drove off.

•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

Plagiarism is a crime. Please don’t steal my work!

aira-writes ©

Reblogs, comments, and likes are deeply appreciated! <3

[ilyluhily]

staying safe online as a little without a cg !

as someone who involuntarily regresses, i’ve been put in some vulnerable positions while trying to navigate online spaces while being small.

this post isn’t just for involuntary regressors but anyone who wants to increase their knowledge of online safety while being little !

some of these might go without saying but i would still like to put it out there as a sort of catch all post of things to do ! so without further ado here are some tips for online safety as a little without cg to help monitor you !

bookmark safe websites you want to browse when you’re small, while you’re big

whether they’re games or social media sites you’d like to browse, make sure you bookmark them and add them to a folder specifically for when you’re small ! this will prevent little you from stumbling upon dangerous or triggering imagery or sites <3

speaking of social media…try turning off your dms or messages for people you don’t know

many a times have i clicked on an image while small (esp on instagram) that has no preview and i was shown triggering or inappropriate content. for some people when they’re regressed or if have a system little your state of mind is also regressed, meaning they can think more like a child and do things they wouldn’t normally do. i know this is true for me so when i feel myself slipping i make sure to only answer and look at messages from trusted people. you can always filter your messages as some social media sites do offer that ! and if you’d like you can even turn it back on when you’re no regressed if you’d still like to get messages from people !

another social media tip…if you want to browse social media while small, try browsing from following !

i know sites like Twitter and Instagram have a following tab where you only see posts from people who you follow. this can be helpful if you don’t want to risk seeing triggering content or if you’re randomly shown triggering content for no reason as that can sometimes happen on some social medias.

create a kids youtube profile or a regular profile only for when you’re in little space !

this is a good one if you like to watch videos while you’re small but don’t want auto play to lead you to an unrelated video ! i have a separate profile for when im small that only plays videos that would be appropriate for a child. it takes a little bit of watching videos you would like and subscribing to channels but it’s worth it imo! this can also lead to you having a separate email for little you that you could even use to sign up for games without using your big email !

on the topic of profiles, you can make a profile on apps like Disney+, Netflix, or Hulu that’s for when you’re small !

if you can, make your own profile on any TV streaming app that has your favorite little shows that you can access when you’re small ! if you’re a curious little like me, it could also help to set pin for big shows so you have an extra layer of protection. i’m v forgetful so this def works on me !! ^.^

and that’s all the tips i have ! if you have more be sure to suggest them for other littles to see and i can also add more in the future ! thanks for reading friends and stay safe 🤍

[vivalas-vega]

firecracker / bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x reader / part one

first new post in a hot min !!! as most of us I’ve recently become obsessed with our favorite flyboys and after reading prob every post on here about them I wanted to take a crack at writing my own. this is def setting the stage for what’s to come so not a whole lot going on here, but I hope y’all enjoy!! 

firecracker / part one / rooster x reader

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of an ill-advised one night stand, rooster being an ass for just a minute but he redeems himself

“What do we have here?” The cocky pilot’s smirk could be heard from all the way across the bar as the two naval aviators made their way through, trailed by Payback and Fanboy. “If it ain’t Pheonix and Firecracker. And I thought we were special, Coyote, turns out the invite went to anyone.”

“Oh, don’t start with me, Bagman,” You warned, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Hangman.” He corrected.

“Fellas, you’re looking at the only two naval aviators on active duty with confirmed air-to-air kills.” Phenoix bragged on her friends behalf, Hangman being collateral damage in her efforts.

“Don’t blow smoke up his ass, Pheonix, the other guy was in a muesum piece from the Korean war.”

“Cold war,” Coyote corrected you.

“Different wars, same century.” Payback retorted, while Fanboy added not this one. The group went around making introductions while you and Hangman kept locked eyes, wondering who would break first. Your attention was only pulled by the newest member no one seemed to know… or knew when he arrived.

“Oh, I-I’ve been here the whole time.” He supplied, and you thought he had a boyish charm about him.

“The mans a stealth pilot,” Hangman joked, eyeing you from his perch on the pool table.

“Weapons systems officer, actually.” 

“With no sense of humor.”

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and go grab me a round? Or have we forgotten you still have a debt to settle with me?” You asked, redirecting your attention to Hangman.

“Fiesty as always, Firecracker. Your usual coming right up,” he flashed you his signature smirk, passing you the pool cue before making his way to Penny at the bar.

“What do they call you?” You asked.

“Bob,” he answered, a small smile on his lips.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “no, your callsign.”

“Uh… Bob.”

“Bob Floyd? You’re my new backseater? From Lemoore?” Phoenix asked, a little incredulously. 

“Looks like it,” he nodded, seemingly a little nervous to have the only two women in the group focusing all of their attention on him. 

“Nine ball, Bob. Rack ‘em.” You said, giving him a reassuring smile and passing him the cue before taking a step away from the table, intending to meet Hangman at the bar but getting distracted by a certain distinguished pilot seemingly wanting to make his presence unknown.

“Well well, isn’t this a surprise.” You tutted, standing next to Maverick and trying not to smirk at the look on his face.

“I’ve been spotted.”

“Sure as hell not doing a good job at hiding yourself,” you gestured at the packed bar of Naval officers. You stared at each other for a moment before laughing and he stood to hug you.

“You look well.” He commented, sitting back down.

“Would be better if a certain decorated pilot would clue me in as to what the hell we’re all doing back here?”

“And ruin the surprise? Can’t have that,” he smiled.

“Rooster know you’re here?”

“How’d you know Rooster got called in for this?” He shot back.

“Look around, Mav, we’re all the best of the best in active duty, I took a leap of faith.” 

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.” You hummed at his response.

“Well, godspeed, Mav. I assume I’ll be seeing you soon,” you tapped the bar and returned to your group, not wanting to draw anyones eyes and let it be known you have more connections in North Island than you’re letting on. 

“Bradshaw! Is that you?” Pheonix called out, shooting you a look as your gaze shifted behind Fanboy to none other than Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw walking into the Hard Deck. He sauntered over to the pool table, not even sparing you a glance. “This is how I find out you’re stateside?” 

“Yeah, thought I’d surprise you.” He answered, tucking his sunglasses into his shirt and finally looking your way as Pheonix lined up her shot, hitting him right in the abdomen as she did.

“Guess I surprised you back.”

“Good to see you,” he said, still doubled over before giving her a pat on the shoulder and moving to make the rounds. Hangman came back with drinks in hand, giving you yours and queuing a new song on the jukebox. 

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.” He made his way around the pool table, taking the pool cue from Bob who was just about to take his shot. 

“Hangman, you look… good.”

“Well, I am good, Rooster.” You rolled your eyes at the arrogance rolling off his body in waves. “I’m very good, in fact, I am too good to be true.”

“Give it a rest, Ken Doll.” You sighed, your personal callsign for the man circling around you earning a chuckle from the rest of the pilots. 

“So… anybody know what this special detachment is all about?” Payback asked from his seat by the window.

“No, a missions a mission, doesn’t confront me.” Hangman leaned down to line up his next shot as Rooster subtly shook his head, “what I wanna know, who’s gonna be team leader?” He stood looking around, “which one of you has what it takes to follow me?”

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.” Rooster retorted, earning some chatter from the group.

He flashed his megawatt smile, coming around the table to stand face-to-face with Bradley, “well, anyone who follows you is just gonna run out of fuel. But that’s just you, ain’t it, Rooster? You’re snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment that never comes.” 

“Are you two being serious right now?” You asked, looking between them before Hangman broke away, saying something about loving this song.

“Well, he hasn’t changed.” Phoenix said, standing next to you and Rooster.

“Nope, sure hasn’t… but Firecracker knows all about that, doesn’t she?” 

“So… this is starting now, got it.” You sighed, taking a sip of your tequila soda. 

The pool game continued with more friendly fire as the group got acquainted, and your eyes trailed to the entrance as more pilots trickled in.

“What the hell kind of mission is this?” Fanboy asked.

“That’s not the question we should be asking,” Nat said leaning over the pool table, “everyone here is the best there is, who the hell are they gonna get to teach us?” You chose this moment to break away as the music cut out and made your way over to where Rooster was fiddling with the piano, everyone slowly following suit. Penny rang the bell again and your smirked to yourself, not watching as you knew Mav was getting hauled out of the bar and tossed into the sand. You watched as Rooster began singing, and soon everyone in the bar was too. Rooster always had that effect, he walks into a room and suddenly it’s his, and you couldn’t help but smile as all the other pilots danced and sang around you. If you didn’t know any better it was like you, Rooster and Pheonix were back in Top Gun for the first time, singing Great Balls of Fire and destressing after a long day on base. But, you did know better, and a lot had changed between now and then. 

“Not feeling the party spirit, Firecracker?” Hangman taunted, following you out onto the patio where you looked out at the ocean before you as he looked you up and down, “almost forgot what you looked like out of uniform,” he muttered, taking in your short sundress. “If I recall correctly, you always were the party.”

“You recall nothing, Hangman,” you sighed, finishing off your drink and shoving it into his hand, signaling you were ready for another. “What happened to ‘what happens on the mission, stays on the mission’?” You asked. 

“You left an impression, darlin’.” His smirk made you scoff.

“Stop it, that rugged southern charm might have worked when I was six drinks deep and you were there, but it’s not working now so direct your efforts to one of the girls in there that would love a night in the sack with a decorated pilot.” 

“See, but I was hoping for a night in the sack, as you so crudely put it, with another decorated pilot.” You had to give it to him, he was persistent. 

“You don’t give a rats ass about anyone’s accomplishments other than your own, so don’t pretend you’re suddenly interested now. I mean it, Hangman. Now, get me a refill.” You tapped the empty glass in his hand before rejoining the fray.

“What the hell was that about?” Phoenix asked lowly, pulling out a chair for you at the table everyone had moved to. 

“The past coming back to haunt me,” you replied, giving Hangman a fake smile as you all but snatched your drink from his hands.

“Where are your manners?” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Three years of my drinks on your tab, Bagman, You’ll get a thank you when the bet has reached it’s expiration.” 

“What bet did he lose?” Fanboy asked, suddenly intrigued. 

“Firecracker, don’t-” suddenly Hangman was no longer the macho tough guy he’d spent all night strutting around pretending to be, but a desperate man who’s only current goal was to keep you from spilling the beans.

“I’m so glad you asked, Fanboy. We were on the same mission a few years back, and-” suddenly Hangman was in your space, lips brushing your ear and you cocked your head slightly.

“Add on another year.”

“What was that?” You taunted, trying to keep the smirk off your face.

“Add another year, just for the love of god do not mention that evening.” You pondered as you sipped your drink, wanting him to squirm for a minute.

“Sorry boys, Bagman would rather me drink him out of house and home and a deals a deal.” You finally said, turning to shake on it. 

“Never thought I’d see the day when someone could make Hangman grovel.” Coyote joked from across the table.

“Well, she has her charms.” Rooster said, mostly under his breath, and if you hadn’t been sitting next to him you might not have even heard it. 

“Really, Bradley?” You whispered, turning to him. “Can you let it go?” 

He shrugged, “just thought you were better than that, turns out I was wrong.” You were silent as his words washed over you, looking up at him trying to understand when Rooster became someone you hardly recognized. You just nodded, finishing off your drink and standing up. 

“Good to see you, Rooster.” You waved your goodbyes to everyone else, shrugging your jacket on and stepping out into the cool night air. You pulled your phone out, firing a text to Penny that you’d be back for your car tomorrow and sighed as you started for the beach.

“Wait… Y/N wait,” part of you expected it to be Hangman running after you but were shocked to hear Bradley’s voice.

“What, Bradshaw? Have some more digs you wanna get in?” You asked, not even looking back as you strode out into the sand. 

“That’s fair.” He said, quickly catching up and falling into pace beside you, “I’m sorry.” 

“Are you? Because it’s been two years since we’ve spoken and everything you’ve said to me tonight has been a thinly veiled insult.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, I know I’ve been a bit of an ass lately and seeing you just threw me for a loop.”

“Great excuse, Bradshaw.” 

“Wow, really making me work for it…” he muttered, “also fair,” he added, seeing the look you shot him. 

“You disappeared, Bradley. I mean, we were best friends and you literally ghosted me, and then we all show up for this mission and you act like a dick because, what - because I slept with Hangman?” You stopped, turning to face him. “I’ve turned a blind eye to all the somewhat questionable girls you’ve taken home, so what gives?” 

“You’re not me, you don’t make shitty decisions about your personal life like that.”

“Jesus Christ, Rooster. It was a one night thing two years ago on a mission. I figured you’d know better than anyone shit happens when you’re on a mission and tensions are high. I wouldn’t have told you if it meant you were going to stop talking to me.” 

“I didn’t… it wasn’t my intention to, I got called to a mission and then so much time had passed it… it felt weird.”

“You’re full of great excuses tonight.” You resumed walking. 

“What do you know about this mission?” He asked, changing the subject.

“As much as you,” you replied simply. 

“Come on, I saw you at the bar with him, and you’re…”

“You’re gonna keep that to yourself, right? I already have too much of a connection with Mav that I know is going to get out at some point or another. I’d really rather not have to explain that I’m the famous Iceman’s daughter.”

“You know I would never, I know how much you want your career separated from his.” 

“You’ve gotta forgive him, Roos.” You said after a few moments of silence, slipping back into old patterns. “He’s going to be our instructor.”

“No, I don’t. He set me back four years,” his expression was steely and you stopped, tugging his hand as you sank down into the sand. 

“Yeah and Ice pulled my papers too. Look where we ended up, still two of the best pilots in the Navy.”

“I just don’t see it that way.”

“Because you’re not trying to. Plus… we got experiences they’ll never have. While they were all freshly eighteen signing their lives away, we got four years. Four whole years of doing whatever we wanted. Was it annoying that once we got in we had to work twice as hard? Sure, but I wouldn’t change it.” 

“You’re annoying,” he muttered.

“Only because deep down you know I’m right. You gotta let it go.”

“I really am sorry, I never meant for shit between us to get like that.” He said sincerely, finally turning to look at you.

“Yeah yeah, don’t get sappy on me now. Come on, your room is still as you left it.” You said standing.

“No, you don’t have to let me crash with you.” 

“It’s not crashing when you have your own room, you’ll be doing me a favor. It’s too big of a house for just me.” 

“Alright, but I’m not making breakfast.”

“We’ll see about that.”

part two

[girlgenius1111]

Hello! Me again!! Pretending to be reading this on Wattpad 🫣 I COMPLETELY missed the fact that you posted part 4... Whoops...

Ingrid cut her off. “María, darling, I love you, but take a breath.” You watched amused as Mapi literally took a deep breath at Ingrid’s instruction. “Okay, now go pick out a couple new mugs over there and then come back.”  - the gentle parenting 😌

“Good.” Ingrid said. “MARÍA, come here.” 

Mapi returned like a puppy being called back to its owner, with a single mug in her hands. - you need to STOP making me laugh, I know you're lulling me into a false sense of security just to trick me into crying after :(

You’d looked relieved, Ingrid felt relieved, and Mapi was just happy to be there. - Mapi is so Ken coded 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Mapi said casually, knowing exactly who was just a few steps from the family room. Sue her if she wanted to see Ingrid’s reaction to your tattoo. - HA Mapi is just trying to stir things up 🤭

“I’m not crying, I’m not. I’m just- tattoos are bad. Really bad. You shouldn’t have that. Tattoo. Of my number. On your body forever. My baby sister,” She trailed off, biting her lip when it began to tremble. - STOP MAKING ME FEEL THINGS. but this actually made me laugh out loud, "tattoos are bad. really bad." - © Ingrid Engen

Mapi laughed, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m just kidding, princesa, relax! God you sound like Alexia when I joked that I was going to tattoo Fresa when she was 12.  I thought Ale was going to hit me.”  - FRESA MENTIONNNN ‼️A WIN FOR THE GIRLIES ‼️

“We don’t have sex! We don’t! Abstinence is key!” Ingrid shouted after you, sighing heavily when she heard you laugh from the stairs. She turned to Mapi with a defeated look on her face. - well now I'm curious 👀👀 HAVE they had sex since Sol moved in?? Do they do it while she's asleep?? Do they call Frido to keep Sol occupied and away from the house??? The world needs answers 😤

"Please stop calling. I am focused on Solstråle right now. You’ve really hurt her, and neither of us are ready to talk to you yet. Please respect that." - ohhhh no. I can see where this is going. Poor Soli is about to get a really angry phone call isn't she? 😬

She wasn't sure why, but it suddenly felt like things might be okay from here on out. She would be wrong. - that is FOUL. Jail for girlgenius1111! Jail for girlgenius1111 for ONE THOUSAND YEARS.

“You’re ruining our family.” - that BITCH

When Ingrid opened the door, though, it wasn’t her teammate on the front porch. It was your father. - ummm PLOT TWIST???? Out of all the possibilities of who was at the door, I never thought of him

It was, of course, at this moment that you came down the stairs to fill up your water.- NOOO WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING TGIS TO ME :(((((( Don't you WANT Sol to be happy?!

They were downstairs, talking about how they didn’t want you, after spending so long lying and saying they did. - NO STOP 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

________________________________

I got too into the fic, and forgot to take notes near the end. Take that as a compliment, because it was INCREDIBLE. I'm very glad you finally gave Sol her happy ending 🥺🙏❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

god i live for things like this truly.

ingrid absolutely sees gentle parenting tiktoks and thing… this isn’t a bad idea. for my girlfriend.

heheheheh i like to make everyone giggle and then rip them in half with sadness

fresita mention 😇😇😇

LMAO well she’s been there for 6 months so they def have. they just have to be quiet. but ingrid always acts weird afterwards and sol knows exactly what’s gone on

i don’t want to go to jail 😔😔😔

that BITCH is exactly what i thought to myself AFTER writing that sentence

so glad i executed that plot twist well

i do want sol to be happy she just has to suffer a litttttle more first

getting too into the fic to take notes is the highest compliment that you could give i appreciate you very much nonny ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[seiwas]

this is a bit random (and admittedly and understandably weird?), but im trying to be consistent about waking up early and having a morning routine (lmao is this tmi); im writing/asking you because ur the first person that pops in my head when it comes to mornings (u shared before, if im not mistaken(?), that ur very fond of mornings), SO im talking too much lol, BUT im just really curious (and asking for advice honestly 😔👉🏻👈🏻) on how to stay consistent about waking up early… and loving mornings… 🥹

(u dont have to answer if this is weird! i understand, truly!!) (thank u very much 😭)

hi nonie!! not weird at all omg i find it so sweet that you’ve come to me for advice!! 🥹 i’m so touched!

i love that you’re trying to form a morning a routine—i’m a morning person and a lot of the success of my day hinges on how i start it!

i’ll put this under the cut in case it gets too long!! but these are the things that have personally worked for me!

the night before

get enough sleep! (sleep earlier bit by bit, you don’t have to do it all at once! making it manageable and sustainable is key 🥹)

drinking tea helps too (as long as it isn’t caffeinated)—anything to relax your body and mind!

things around you that can help

alarms help at training your body to wake up at a specific time, you can also adjust this 10 minutes earlier day by day so your wake time pushes back! (over time you’ll find that you’ll be able to do it on your own!)

getting natural sunlight in (personally helps me wake up the most. if you don’t have a window, maybe smth like a timed ac might help too!)

leave your phone far away from you, to the point that you have to stand up to get it! (so you don’t reach for it in bed and stay there and fall asleep again 😭)

the morning of

as soon as you wake up, get up. (this is really tough but it’s a mental battle 😭 you’ll def be sleepy 😭 but i can assure you, the sleepiness will almost always go away around 10 minutes after you get up and move around 😭)

fix your bed! (it can trick your mind into thinking that you don’t wanna get into it and mess it up again)

get some natural sunlight (it’s good for you and i think also helps w your circadian rhythm for later on at night! you can do this by either going out for a walk or if you want to stay in, some yoga by the window is nice too!)

go along your day as planned!

*naps in the afternoon may or may not be helpful, but as a general rule i try to avoid it! but if you really need to get some sleep in, a nice 20 minute nap works wonders for me!

consistency takes time so don’t shock yourself into waking up from 10am one day to suddenly 6am the next—it’s okay to take it gradually! if you want to love the mornings, you’re going to have to make it an enjoyable process for you 🥹

i personally love it because i like seeing the early morning light (not necessarily the sunrise but it’s a softer light right before it becomes really sunny!) (sunrises are also pretty great tho)

i also look forward to mornings a lot because i love breakfast and breakfast food, and i love making my matcha latte! little things like these push me to get up from bed immediately so i can start the day 🥹

i’ve found that it also really helps if i start my day with a workout, but i know this really depends on the person! i prefer it because i have the most energy in the morning and it keeps me awake the more i’m moving!

i hope this was helpful!! let me know if you have any other questions/update me on your progress!! this is so exciting 🥺 a fellow morning lover!!! good luck!! ☀️💗

[overthinkingtaleblr]

Holy shit I've got my own tag :0

Anyways, you think the Johnnys ever have any of the macaroni Toast makes? Like if he has any left over that he can't sell and it's been a really rough day, they'll wait for Spooker and Colin to leave then have some? Would they be chilled or ascending?

I think I actually have answers for every member of the team!

Johnny Ghost is a paranoid macaroni user. The good feeling intended by the drug lasts about 10 seconds before he starts freaking out. The hallucinations he has from it are vivid and incredibly disorienting, and being on it completely incapacitates him. That’s part of the reason why he opposes what Toast does with the macaroni (selling it), because he can not understand why anyone enjoys that experience whatsoever, not realizing he’s just having a more intense experience than other people. He’ll begrudgingly accept it’s another way to bring money in, which they do desperately need, but between accidental contaminations, having to hide it from people who are trying to help them with PIE stuff, and Toast’s own problems with dependence… he’s got a lot of complaints.

Johnny Toast may use his own supply sometimes, but it isn’t too frequent. He’s had problems with addictions in the past and he does not want a repeat with a heavily criminalized drug that he has put himself under obligation to sell to others. He does try to keep Ghost out of the macaroni dealing as much as possible, and that continues to him not wanting to be on it in Ghost’s company to keep him from getting irritated about it.

Spooker didn’t know what macaroni was until he met the team and accidentally got roped up into helping Toast make macaroni. This is based on a video where Spooker literally helped hide Toast’s self-made macaroni from the police, eventually leading to Toast borderline executing the cop. He feels like macaroni-dealer Toast is a completely different person— the conditions Spooker is made to work in is poor, he’s treated worse, it’s overall a much more grueling experience. But hey, he isn’t getting paid at PIE, where else would his money come from (that’s hypothetical i don’t actually know)… all of that to say, Spooker has def. Gotten high on macaroni from handling it wrong and didn’t realize it until Toast himself pointed it out… multiple times.

Honestly, I think Colon doesn’t really understand what macaroni is. He lives next door to the Acachallas, who are possibly another group of macaroni dealers (at least papa and billy sometimes, idk how much that sticks), but that doesn’t mean he understands what’s happening. He just thinks everyone is really weird about pasta, which is also technically true, and isn’t explained that it’s a drug until mid-case. Even then, he probably wouldn’t know that members of the Team is involved with dealing it.

This is based off of what I’ve seen in videos and my general understanding of how taboo macaroni is… it isn’t something to be used lightly. Also I’ve never done any non-prescription drugs before, especially not anti-depressants or hallucinogenics, so i may be more of a prude than others.

[lleldey]

Maybe i missed a this part but what job did tbv!oc have before jungkooks accident? if she still wanted to be a hairdresser, would he let her considering he want’s everything to go back to normal? i don’t know if she was a stay at home wife but if she was would he make her continue to be a house wife?

Hi!!

No worries, I did mention it, but it was very subliminal, so it was easy to miss. She was a photographer, it was mentioned in the hospital scene:

“What the hell did I miss? A hairdresser? But what about photography, it’s your dream!”

You nibble on your lip, while trying to think of a way to calm him down, this much stress surely isn’t good for his body, “Photography doesn’t pay the bills. I couldn’t stay here, Kook. I moved out and this was my only option.”

She mainly worked for Jeon's company and took some jobs outside it as well. Imagine; she's photographing him in a courtroom for some ads/posters and whatnot, and their eyes meet - both start giggling and JK completely breaks his 'serious' character.

Little things like that made their relationship, JK def loved her being so close to him as well, as both their work lives and downtime was spent in each other's proximity. That's also why him being completely alone after waking up from the coma was so shattering, as it was a first - they had spent almost every day together since they were teenagers.

But when he did slip into the coma she quickly realized that job won't pay the bills, especially after the falling-out with his family - she couldn't keep working at their company as it was too uncomfortable and awkward. His family didn't want to see her after the divorce.

So, a hairdresser was her only option in the small village. Not her dream in the slightest, but she didn't have much choice. That also plays into her character - why life with JK is more suitable for her aspirations.

I don't think she would ever be a 'stay at home wife', but she would have to take care of JK for the first year/months, but when he 'gets back on his feet', she's trying to restore back the balance of her life.

JK also liked her working with him, even from the small snippet we can see that he tried to support her dreams to the fullest!

Hope this answered your questions! Thank you for the ask, this was a lot of fun; trying to get back in TBV, as I promised to write a drabble months ago 🤓

[unohanabbygirl]

I actually think a fmbh au where circumstances (either Otto’s planning or Luke saying he’s not a Virgin in order to get out of it) see Aemond being the one people look to to carry the child. As you’ve said it would be an extremely traumatic event for him and I def think Luke would command Aemond to be silent on their wedding night while he messed up the sheets and cut his own hand to fake the blood. Pressured by Otto, you are tots right he would refuse to switch position even if Luke offered so I think Luke would def use his position as Aemond’s lord and husband to accept a faked bedding. This au would be so interesting because I feel like Alicent and Otto would pressure Aemond into continually trying to seduce Luke when a baby obviously didn’t arrive. In your story, Luke and Aemond kept coming back to each other for sexual release not only for their own sense of loyalties to not cheat, but also because they had slept together with assigned rolls on their wedding night that fit the comfort they had in their own bodies. Hate sex is a powerful way to draw characters to each other, but I think with this wedding night of Aemond being forced to bottom, they would never return to each other sexually so easily as we might see in fmbh. What would the story look like of their marriage was a stale one with no sex because Aemond was terrified of his own body which turned to even worse resentment, and Luke hated Aemond too from the start so he wasn’t about to spread his own legs. Thoughts??

You’re spot on. Having sex with someone you don’t even like is already bad enough but being forced to fit yourself into a role you’ve never been comfortable with whilst forced to acknowledge a part of yourself that you’ve been taught to view as shameful would def create a barrier between these two that wouldn’t allow for the dynamic we currently see to flourish. Since in this scenario the bedding was faked and they never actually had sex no emotional nor physical ties are created (which is good considering it would’ve been incredibly traumatic for both of them but especially Aemond). There’s no urge to seek each other out for more despite the hatred there, no dealing with a sudden desire to have that connection once more since hate is incredibly powerful and oftentimes goes hand in hand with lust. That lust soon having turned into genuine desire and an urge for affection.

Aemond would begin to view having sex with Luke as something to dread for the simple fact that his mother and Grandfather want him to carry on the Hightower line through Driftmark. I can clearly see a constant pressure on his shoulders throughout the years to finally go through with it just to get things over with and honor his families wishes, but always falling through last minute. Memories of Luke on top of him with pity in his eyes inspiring such anger because he’s put his body through years of training to never be seen as weak again. Shame that his nephew even saw him in such a state at all. He can’t follow through even when he feels like a complete failure every time his mother asks him if he’s yet with child only for the answer to be “no” time and time again. Theres too much negative emotion there to inspire anything other than hate and frustration.

It’s the same for Luke to a certain extent; while he surely doesn’t like Aemond he can’t help but feel horrible. He isn’t blind, he knows his husband is dealing with constant pressure to bear an heir no matter how much Luke insists it won’t be necessary as his point anout Driftmark passing through one of his sisters still stands. There’s pity alongside his dislike as well as sadness. Rhaenyra would never in a million years do something like that to him, so to see Alicent’s eyes on Aemond’s belly is hurtful. And he isn’t even the person her presence is digging into.

Luke is 100% the sort of man who’d want to have a discussion after x amount of years has passed because it’s that much of a sore spot. But Aemond refuses off jump; it’s bad enough he’s expected to act as Luke’s broodmare, why must he open himself up emotionally as well? Especially to the person who took his eye and still to this day has never apologized (at least in this Au)

However, I do see Laena being the one who slowly brings them together. Alicent would likely insist that Aemond take to her like a mother would in perpetration for when its his own time. At first he isn’t all that receptive because he’d always imagined if he were to have children he’d be a father rather than a mother, but soon enough he actually finds himself relaxed with parenting. If Laena cries he takes to her instead of servants, if she’s hungry he’ll stay and watch as she’s fed. Of course Luke’s there, so taking care of her would open them up to each other slowly yet surely.

[alwaysxlarrie]

4, 9, & 15

4. honestly, i’ve read wonderful fics from many talented authors in this fandom that have inspired me !! i’ve also been lucky enough to befriend some of them & receive their help w some of my fics. but i’m gonna cheat & name a few more than 3 lol oops.

@zanniscaramouche —— zanni knows how much her writing has influenced me, but her ability to keep scenes going, go from one character’s action to the next character’s action and/or dialogue so seamlessly, perfectly describe how & why an action made a character feel the way it did, etc just brings her writing to life so wonderfully. i’ve been lucky enough to have her beta quite a few of my fics that included smut as well, bless her soul, because her talent when it comes to smut, dirty talk, etc is superb. having her influence in my smut has made it what it is today, 100%.

@thedevilinmybrain —— the way jen writes emotions so viscerally & describes things in a way that even if you’ve never seen an item, action, and/or place before, you can still picture it in your head clearly is so admirable. you feel every emotion the character feels. you see exactly what the character sees. i’m obsessed w the way she portrays louis & harry’s dynamic in each fic —— it’s always similar but different. keeps you on your toes but you know it’s gonna be a good time. that’s how i aspire to write larry’s relationship in my fics lol. her writing is so captivating & phenomenal.

@loveislarryislove — long story short, annika & i have this obsession with touches & yearning doing so much for a scene, an emotion, a character, etc. touches are everything!!! i read her bodyguard fic & was obsessed before we even became friends & it showed me that you can depict so much lust, love, angst, happiness, etc in a scene that isn’t even that intense physically. bless annika’s soul for betaing my fics, too lol.

@2tiedships2 & @londonfoginacup for the same reasons —— the way they incorporate humor into their dialogue and internal monologue???? unmatched!!!! i’ve always wanted to be a writer who can incorporate humor into a fic seamlessly that is funny to people besides me and reading endless amounts of their fics & talking to them as well has definitely helped me mucho. their writing has also helped me learn that it’s okay to bend some sentence structure rules for creative reasons & i can confirm, my writing has only benefited from it.

there’s def more, but i’m just gonna name a few more people who have been influential for me for various reasons (dirty talk, smut, slow burn, humor, etc) & then i’ll stfu ab this one lmao: @allwaswell16 @lululawrence @kingsofeverything @disgruntledkittenface @crinkle-eyed-boo @jaerie @twopoppies @gaycousinlarry @hershelsue @sadaveniren

9. kind of? i try to stay flexible with myself if i can though. like if i finish a fic a day or three after the deadline i’ve set myself, then i’m not gonna berate myself for it. i do have a schedule for my cinderella au fic tho; that has a deadline of publishing one chapter a week!

15. i hope im answering this right when i answer this based on what universe i think is the hardest to write lol —— for me, it’s omegaverse. i was just talking about this w some people in the 1d library actually lol. i love reading abo fics but im just not sure if i could take myself seriously writing the words “slick” or “knot” or whatever. i get too self aware and in my head about it. i have so much admiration for writers who write many abo fics, i wish i could do what they do. i’ve been thinking about signing up for the abo fic fest to kind of get myself over that hurdle, but we’ll see.

thank you for asking me questions!! hopefully you don’t mind that my answer was kinda long 🙃 but this was fun!! xx