#Yes. You were. You fucking sucked!!!! you were horrible for no reason!!!!!!!

[sammydem0n64]

I love lingering when it comes to introducing oc story and lore because ohh oh ohhhhh it’s fun seeing reactions to plot points and discussing them and what not. But it’s also scary because I won’t like it if I’m judged for a story direction because people don’t like a character or smth. But also who caresssss I call it a jumpscare to see horrible people fully comprehend that they’re horrible and try to fix themselves and build themself from the ground up. I call it that fucked up people can realize their wrongs and change themselves for the better. I call it nuance. I call it look at these ocs boy

[supercutszns]

bitter to the taste; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc + pairing: 5.5k, luke castellan x f!reader

synopsis: a sharp blade, a black eye, and (more than) two kisses.

warnings: this is even sluttier than the last one, language, sword fighting, sharp objects, blood/injuries, reader is still a horrible person and so is luke but he's also a loooser, making out, allusions/mentions of sex but no super explicit descriptions, kind of fluffy at the end

notes: i’m starting to hate this bc i think i’ve been staring at it too long sorry if this is not as good as pt.1 but i have plans for this series ok. also READER AND LUKE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE!!! THEIR RELATIONSHIP WILL NOT ALWAYS BE GOOD!!! THEY SUCK!! they are also not real but keep that in mind :) synopsis inspired by crush by ethel cain; designated song for this fic is unpunishable by ethel cain (i’ve got a whole chronological playlist for these freaks like it’s serious)

You’ve always had a taste for violence. And an equally powerful penchant for sloth. 

You prefer to watch the carnage, not participate. It satisfies something inside you that you know, if it wasn’t for your laziness, could cause something irrevocable. Who the hell has time for that?. You’d rather lie back and watch instead.

This flaw of yours is the only reason you haven’t stirred more trouble, you think. It’s the reason you never attend camp games or sparring lessons. Sometimes, when you do, a dark muscle flexes inside your heart to curl out of its slumber, forming a hunger you don’t have otherwise. The second it starts to pry you have to rear yourself back and tuck the monster in. Banish the need for something more.

You don’t want to feed it. You don’t know what happens if you do. So you let other people do the feeding for you.

Luke cuts through two dummy heads in one swoop. It’s fucking gorgeous. The moon reflects off his sword, a silver sheen casting his face when he’s in the right spot. His brows are set, eyes so dark they blend with the night. Every motion is ruthless. Satisfying. 

You don’t know how many times you’ve watched him like this. He called you out for it last night, but you’re sure he doesn’t know the half of it. The shadows are a sacred cloak to you, and you wait inside them until you want your presence known. 

Meet me tomorrow. 

It runs through your head like a broken record. You can still feel his breath on your lips and your neck is still tender—had to wear a sweater in the blazing heat to hide the marks. Since you were created you’ve accepted a universal truth about yourself: you don’t harbour affection for anyone or anything. There’s not a single thing you’ve felt drawn to or protective over but yourself. It’s solitary, yes, and lonely, yes, but that’s the way you’re supposed to be. 

But you think about last night. You think about the moments between the kisses and the rush. When he teased you against your ear. When his hand brushed a certain spot on your back and something much lighter fluttered inside of you. When you crawled into sleep and thought about him, those were the moments that struck you the strangest. 

His gaze pans over the treeline every once in a while, the anger diluted. Then it comes back twice as hard as he shreds another dummy to pieces. 

He’s waiting for you. Oh, this is rich! A better person would probably turn around and go spoon their offerings into the bonfire the second they understand what they’re doing is incredibly destructive. But who are we kidding? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. 

So you take a step forward, slip out of the comfort of the dark, and the next time he looks to the treeline he knows you’re there. He can’t see you, but he knows. 

You wait. His strikes are less tenuous, much smoother. It almost makes you laugh. Some fucking showman he is. 

Eventually, he buries his blade in the dirt and wipes his brow. “Are you gonna come talk to me or are you gonna stare at me all night like an owl?”

You relish in the feeling of shedding the darkness, coming into the light of the moon. “Hi,” you say flatly, but there’s a tiny smile on his face when he sees you that almost puts you off. 

“Hello, rotten.” He tries to lean on the hilt of his sword but it isn’t quite tall enough so he stumbles. It’s so pathetic it almost makes you laugh. 

“Don’t call me that,” you grimace.

“Okay, back to heathen?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Well, you don’t seem too happy when people call you by your name so pick your poison here.” 

You don’t say anything, your mouth set in a scowl. “All right, both it is,” Luke shrugs.

He’s different from last night. Less impatient. You hope it’s not because he thinks he has you now—he’s got another thing coming. “I almost thought you weren’t gonna come,” he says with a crooked grin, neither bashful nor ashamed. 

You’ve made your way closer to him, the soft grass turning to dusty earth. “Don’t know why I did,” you mutter crassly. 

Having abandoned his sword, Luke chuckles wryly. “Yes, you do.”

That bitterness he hides from everyone else pierces through. He tilts your face up like he did yesterday, the press of his fingers beneath your chin almost burning you. You know he’s peering at the marks on your neck. 

“If you made me come here just to hook up with me you’re delusional,” you glare. 

“What, like that’s not why you’re here?” He pushes your face up a little higher, grinning a little when you add resistance. “I’m a gentleman, you know. I can be patient.”

This guy is full of fucking shit.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you snipe. The only point of contact you have is his hand on your chin, but you’re a hair’s breadth away from having everything else. The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you.

He keeps your face still. He’s studying you, and you’re suddenly curious about what he sees. You remember all those looks you’d share at the dinner tables that made this happen in the first place. What did he see then? 

“You wanna fight?”

It takes you a second to react. “What?”

“You want to fight. Pick up a sword, let’s go.” He smiles as he finally lets you go, waltzing away from you to unbury his sword from the dirt. His touch permeates through your skin and you hate it. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I can’t fight.”

“Sure you can,” he replies, grabbing another sword from the training rack. “You need to burn off a little steam.”

You laugh sharply. “And you think me waving a sword around is gonna do that?”

“Uh, yeah,” he grins. “It’s the method that lets us keep the most clothes on.” 

You glare at him. His smirk is a mile wide. The way your stomach is simmering almost makes you sick; it’s like gorging yourself on candy except this time the candy has a sword and maybe wants to fuck you. 

You just watch as he hands you his sword, and the moonlight glinting off the metal has you believing it’s not the kind used for training. “I’ll use the dull one,” he assures. “C’mon, heathen. I know you’ve used a sword before, they force us to.”

“I usually skip those classes.”

He laughs. You can’t tell if it’s at you or with you. “Of course you do.”

You don’t like following orders, but oh, what the hell. Luke knows something about you, just like you know something about him. You’re only a little curious about it. 

“Straighten your back,” is the first thing he says once you’ve taken your stance across from him. The blunt of his sword reaches out to tap your hip. 

You begrudgingly do as you’re told. He watches you mirthfully, and the press of his sword against you starts to feel like a substitute for his hand. All the closeness you’re hungry for, dampened by cold steel. It still makes you buzz. 

He gives you the barebones—the right grip, how to maneuver, the proper balance. But long gone is his easy disposition. The motor inside him that powered all those dummy beheadings and disembowelments is running again, except this time it’s for you. He wants a fight. This is his battlefield. All right, you’ll bite.

You start to spar with the skill of an overgrown toddler. The sword feels like an unnatural ligament hanging off your body. Luke is precise, convicting, far more enthusiastic than you. “You can do better than that,” he prods after your swords clash lazily for the billionth time. “Stop going easy.”

“You’re going easy,” you shoot back. 

“Yeah, but I’d really rather not. Come on.” 

There’s a moment of hesitation. You think about that dark thing you keep harboured. A muscle aching to be used. 

“Come on,” he says again, and he almost sounds pissed. “All of a sudden you’re playing nice? What are you afraid of?”

Something flares inside you. “Nothing!”

“Then pick up the sword and fight me.”

You huff and roll your eyes, but your next swing is far more inspired. Luke blocks it easily, but you don’t care. “There we go,” he nods. “Again.”

This is more than you bargained for when you decided to come see him. All you want is to make out with this hot, awful person and have him tell you hot, awful things about yourself you probably already know. Why do you have to fight to get it? 

He keeps provoking you no matter how hard you try. Your temper picks up the more you swing, discordant clangs bruising the air, but it’s still not enough. Luke doesn’t let up. Of course the one time you try to be nice, you’re not allowed to. On second thought, why are you reigning yourself in for Luke? The only other person in camp with a real, consuming viciousness? If anything you should hit him twice as hard, since he’s so sure he can take it. 

“No wonder you’re so angry all the time,” Luke heaves out, and it gives you a swell of satisfaction. “You don’t have a proper outlet. Maybe you’d be nicer if you didn’t sit around and complain all day.”

“Shut up,” you gnash your teeth. 

“Just saying, maybe you should do something about it.”

You’re getting lost in the rhythm of the swords, the adrenaline, the sweat passing the scar on his cheek. Every swing you think less and less, and that dark muscle flexes more and more. It feels like home to you. Like a good meal. Your bones ache and the world has darkened, but that rotten pit inside you cracks open in full bloom. 

Luke keeps egging you on but you can’t hear him. Not like he still needs to. You think you’re smiling, or huffing furiously, or both. The sharpness of the sword intrigues you. A million terrible things reflect off its blade and you imagine them, all at once, until you are out of your body and the black hole inside you has properly wedged itself open. 

Luke jabs at you and you bring your sword down with a vengeance. But it’s a little too low. You only notice when he drops his weapon to the side and staggers back.

The fog of violence falters. It fades almost completely when he hisses long and hard, eyes screwed shut, and you see the tear in his shirt. In his skin. 

“Shit,” you say. “Fuck.”

You don’t sound sorry, you don’t think you are sorry, especially when he laughs. It’s a wheezy one through his teeth as you come up to him, but a laugh nonetheless. “Knew you were going easy,” he remarks through a wince. 

You ignore him, looking down at the injury. A  gash across his abdomen. It’s bleeding a little, but not enough for it to drip. You did that. Just looking at the blood, you feel the bitter taste of it in your mouth, the reward a temporary hunger for carnage brought you. This is why you don’t play camp games. 

“I’ve got thick skin. I’m fine,” Luke says casually. “I’ve got a medical kit under that tree over there in case I beat myself up too bad.” He’s no longer scrunched in pain, and you’ve got a feeling he’s telling the truth. So you go fetch the kit where he said it was. You need to wrap that slash. Not because you’re sorry for him, but because looking at it makes you angry. 

You kneel and pop the lid of the small tin kit, covered in dirt. It’s mostly gauze and bandages. Rubbing alcohol too. “Just give me the gauze, that’s all I need,” Luke gestures. 

“Shut the fuck up, I’m doing it myself.” You’ve already torn off some gauze, sitting all the way up on your knees. 

“Most people just say sorry.”

“You pushed me,” you spit back, surprisingly forceful. Luke’s smile drops. You take a deep breath, adjusting yourself to get eye level with the injury. “I told you I don’t fight.”

You’re not sure what makes Luke give in, but he doesn’t say a word as you lift the hem of his torn shirt and he holds it up. There’s no proud remark about your eyes lingering on his stomach, or the hesitation in your hands. You stare at the wound. It really is shallow. Your thumb presses at the skin around it and he winces. “My bad,” you mutter. 

As you sterilize the cut and wrap the gauze around his torso, you try not to let your fingertips cling to the warmth on his skin. You try not to notice the other scars littered there, most faded to the point they should be impossible to pick up even in the sun. It’s obvious he’s staring at you. Your neck is crawling with warmth. But you don’t engage, you just wrap the gauze a few times and do your best not to notice the rise and fall beneath his muscles as he breathes. Then you fasten things neatly and put everything away so you can get up. Any second. Come on. 

“Good?” You ask instead, exhaling. 

“Good,” he affirms. He slides a hand under your forearm and gets you up. It stays there once you’re standing. The night stills. 

“I’m guessing you’re adding ‘attempted killer’ to your list of horrible qualities,” you go on to break the silence.

He holds your gaze unyieldingly. “I’d consider that a pro, actually.” 

You are entirely fed up with this drawn out evening, but you can’t bring yourself to speed anything up any more than stepping closer so your chests brush. “I will give you one, though,” he continues, craning down to your ear. You smell his skin and it sends you back to the position you were in yesterday. 

He finally kisses your jaw, just once, then your neck. You shiver. “You’re too tense.” Another kiss behind your ear. It’s not enough. “Do you even know how to have fun?”

“I don’t want to have fun,” you reply bitterly. I just want to make out with you, asshat.

Luke’s breath frosts over your face when he chuckles, but before he can get any further away you catch his mouth with yours. Almost instinctively his arm winds around you to pull you in closer, your hand looping through his curls. It's a relief, knowing last night wasn't some freak accident. This does feel good, actually, and it can happen. Everything you felt yesterday is only more urgent now, hungrier, and you're pretty sure the way you kiss him gives that away.

He indulges you, squeezing the base of your hips as his other hand thumbs across the marks on your neck. This is so fucking embarassing—you think you whine when he bites down on your bottom lip. You’ve never needed something this bad, you’ve never needed anything. But you press yourself as close to him as you can manage and his hand runs lower, slips against your inner thighs, and it’s difficult to worry about anything else. 

Until he pulls away. Like a dick. 

He doesn’t go far, his forehead pressed to yours, but you feel like pulling out all his hair. It’s a muddling mix of frustration and longing you’re starting to associate with him. “Dude,” you groan, an inner coil only starting to unwind begrudgingly compressing. 

“Let’s go for a swim,” he says. The enthusiasm is almost alarming. Almost makes him look younger.

You’re homicidal. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, heathen. Let’s go for a swim, come on.”

He’s rubbing circles on your thigh, which only makes you want to strangle him. “But I—I don’t have my bathing suit,” you string out. 

The smile gets more boyish. “Wow, whatever shall we do?”

It’s another challenge. Another dare. And he knows what you want, fucking jerk. You’re going to kill him. 

“Fine,” you grunt, and the second the words leave your lips you’re pulled to the lake. 

It’s a warm, sticky evening, only made worse with the sweat and the half-assed kissing, so the water doesn’t seem all that bad. Unfortunately, you don’t like giving into demands. So you stare ghoulishly at your fingernails as Luke tosses off his ripped shirt and his shorts so he can plunge into the lake. “Aren’t you going to at least come in?” He asks, but you don’t look at him. 

“I don’t like swimming,” you lie. 

“At least your feet. It’s nice, I swear!”

A splash, like smoke moving through wind chimes. You look up and Luke has completely submerged, popping his head up closer to the mouth of the dock. “Please,” he says with such conviction your resolve turns to butter. Gods, what is happening to you? You still need that lobotomy! 

You sigh, roll your eyes, turn your back to him. “Fuck this,” you mutter under your breath. You undress to your undergarments and you’re not sure if you want Luke to be watching or not. The moon touches your bare skin and a chill trickles through you. 

You take a seat at the edge of the dock, knees tucked to your chest. Luke swims over for you right away. His hair is dripping against his skin, and you hate how beautiful it looks. The waterline is high tonight, almost ridiculously so, so he props his elbows up on the dock with no problem. “Come in,” he urges. 

“No.”

“Just your legs?”

“No.”

“Gods, I’ll make it worth it, just throw your damn legs in!” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. His face is stubbornly pink. Oh, so now he wants something. You take your time uncurling yourself and Luke wades away from the dock so you can put your feet in. The water goes up to your calves, and you shiver. “So fucking difficult,” he mutters, and your pulse flickers. 

“Sorry, what was that?” You let yourself grin for the first time all night. 

“Nothing,” he hums. This time when he comes to the dock, he wraps his hands around your calves. You’re pretty sure he can stand here because he stops treading. The warmth of the water seems to spread further, long past the threshold of your knees. 

He rests his chin just above your knee, water pooling on your skin. “Stop dripping on me,” you complain. 

“Sorry.” He fake pouts when he kisses the damp spot. You see, ever so faintly, a diabolic shift in his expression. He nudges your leg with the point of his nose, then kisses it, then starts to move it aside. “Feel bad about teasing you all night,” he murmurs, still with an edge. He presses more kisses on your legs. “I really did want to see you.”

The irony that he’s still teasing is not lost on you. You’re not loving how desperately warm you’re starting to feel. “Why’s that?” You lean back on your palms. 

“You’re a very interesting person,” he quips innocently. His hands are cupping the backs of your calves. He’s pulled you a lot closer to the water, and somehow you’ve just noticed. Another blistering kiss on the inside of your thigh. 

“You’re fucking evil,” you scathe. 

He looks up at you from between your legs. “You have literally done nothing but berate and injure me this whole evening.”

“Yeah, and right after I patch you up you jump in the water for shits. You’re playing infection roulette, Castellan.”

“See? You’re so mean.” He sighs, and in a move that almost surprises you to death, he hoists both your legs over his shoulders and they dangle into the river behind him. “And here I am anyway, making it up to you.”

You are suddenly illuminated on the purpose of this situation. Why Luke is between your legs. Your heart jolts. “Luke, you can’t be serious.” 

“Mmhm.” He leans forward to kiss right under your navel. 

You hate how much you want him to do it again, how your body burns, but you avert your eyes. “Someone’s gonna—someone’s gonna hear us.”

He snorts, “No they won’t. Either this or you come in the water with me. Or both. We’ll see.”

A huge smile cracks across your face before you push it back down. You’re going to spend a lot of time coming back to this moment, this night, wondering why. “What is wrong with you.”

It comes out like a compliment when it leaves you. You want to vanish. Luke chuckles, and something foreign to the both of you buzzes through the air. 

“Are you going to be nice?” He asks against your skin. 

“Are you going to be quick?”

His mouth finds your hip bones and yeah, why the hell would you say no to this? He nods, “Swear.” 

That’s all you need. You let your eyes slide shut and your head tilts towards the sky. Luke takes your permission and runs with it, pries you open with his mouth until the stars soak through the black of your eyelids. 

You discover pretty quickly neither of you are good at keeping promises. 

The next time you need Luke’s med kit, he’s already awake. 

It’s been happening more and more often. You lurking around camp past moonrise and finding Luke outside his cabin, going for a walk or a stretch or a … something with you. 

“Do you ever sleep?” You ask him sometimes between flurries of kisses with your back against a tree. 

“Could ask you the same thing, heathen,” he squeezes your hips and nips at your neck, but never answers the question. And neither do you, so you’re both okay with it. You’d hate to give up this feeling, but he doesn’t need to know that.

This is the first time in your punitive life you have felt alive. Like a person, with bones and flesh and soul, a real presence. Not a ghost of smoke and shadow. You are real. 

Fooling around makes you feel like an actual teenager. You’re young, you remember when Luke joins you in the dark. You’re having fun. His hands under your shirt and his mouth on your collarbone, the way he bites down and winces when you do something a little too well, when you string out his name and he rewards you for it. You’re both greedy, insatiable people, so there’s a push and pull only the two of you would ever be able to handle. And nobody has to know. Despite all the bruises, the sleepless nights, the swollen lips, all you and Luke share in the daylight are noxious looks, and that's only if he can find you. A perfect crime. Camp Half-Blood’s angel and the vice that lives in the shadows. But in the dark, it’s hard to tell which is which. 

“Luke,” you whisper. “Luke.”

“I’m up,” he grumbles, peering up at you. “You shouldn’t sneak into my cabin.” He was already sitting up in his bed when you slipped in, and he didn’t notice you were there till you were right in front of him.

“Worried someone will catch me? You should know better.” 

He follows you outside so you don’t wake the other campers. There’s a thrill knowing just one interaction between the two of you could ruin both your reputations forever. 

“What is it, heathen?” He asks as the door closes behind him. It’s so dark and your back is turned to him, but his voice is drenched in smugness. “You don’t usually want to put up with me more than once a night.”

“Don’t have a choice,” you mutter, staring out at the camp. You go to chew on your bottom lip, but you wince immediately. “Where’s your kit thingy? The one we used after I impaled you.” 

“You mean after you lightly grazed me?” 

“Just tell me where it is, Luke.”

Your sharpness could cut through any sleepy daze he possibly has. He’s silent behind you for a second. “Why?” He asks.

“Because I need it.”

His hand curls around your shoulder and before you can think to submerge yourself in darkness, he turns you around. When he sees you, his face breaks from something proud to something … you’re not sure you like. “Oh, heathen,” he murmurs. “What happened to you?”

You guess it’s a semi-appropriate reaction, although you expected at least a grimace. To put it lightly, your face looks gnarly as fuck. There’s a bruise on your cheekbone and your lip is split. But what really draws attention is the half-formed, garish black eye swelling up your right side. 

“Just the usual. Pissed someone off.” It hurts the skin on your lip that’s caked with blood. 

He rests his thumb on your unbruised cheek, but somehow it still stings. You know he can’t see much of you in the dark but he tries. The prolonged eye contact without the imminent promise of a kiss feels foreign. “You need to go to the Apollo cabin,” he concludes, brows pushed together. 

A laugh slips past your broken lips. “No fucking shot. They would not help me.”

“Why not?”

“Because one of their shit-eaters did this!”

The words take a moment to register. You see them filtering through Luke’s brain. He blinks absurdly. “An Apollo guy beat you up?”

“Not beat up. Just … tussled.”

“How much tussling earns you a black eye, exactly? From Apollo kids.”

“Gods, just tell me where your kit is so you can go back to fucking sleep.”

His fingertips inch around the back of your neck, thumb still against your face. “Already wasn’t sleeping. I might as well help you,” he shrugs. “I move the kit every once in a while so some other campers don’t ravage it.”

“I don’t need help.”

Luke opens his mouth, then sighs deeply. He takes a firm hold of your arm and starts to tug you along. “Hey, what—” you swat at his arm. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs. “Come on.”

It’s strange. Luke’s never done you a favour before. At least not one like this. You’re disgruntled enough that you had to go ask him in the first place and now he’s dragging you around? “This isn’t such a big deal, Luke,” you badger. “I’m fine.”

“Sure, whatever. Wait right here.” He lets go of you and only then you realize you’re in front of the Apollo cabin. You grimace, and Luke must have noticed because he says, “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna go inside and grab some things. No one’s gonna jump you.”

You scowl at him, and he just laughs. A part of you hopes he hits his head on the way in. You hide anyway. 

It’s a few minutes of waiting in the oppressive summer heat, until Luke emerges from the cabin with his hands full. He looks around, hesitantly calling, “Heathen?” Then again. You move out of your hiding spot and he jogs over to greet you. 

“Nice haul,” you comment. There’s an ice pack, cotton pads, a few miscellaneous items. “How’d you get them?”

He smiles widely. “Everyone loves me, heathen. It’s not hard.”

“…So you stole them.”

“Yes, but only because I’m too tired to talk to people and I’m protesting for your sake,” he rattles off. “Now hold this ice pack before it gives me frostbite.”

The two of you make your way down to the docks again. It’s morphed into your usual meeting place, since the waves lapping at the shore mask when Luke gets a little too noisy just to piss you off. (At least that’s what he tells you.)

He’s stashed his little tin in a different tree this time. After he retrieves it he sets everything out like a chef preparing to make a meal out of gauze and rubbing alcohol. 

Your head has been throbbing for the past few hours. You’re not proud that you antagonized the wrong Apollo kid and got a shiner for it. You’re less proud that you came to Luke for help. Just like everyone else does.

“Come,” he gestures, tugging at the waistband of your pants. You scoot closer to him and swallow the weight of your pulse when he touches you. 

Luke slowly presses the ice pack to your black eye, letting you hold it. “What did you do to earn this, anyway?” He asks, head tilted to the side. 

You’re hissing because of the ice, half-consciously shifting into him. “The usual. Spat at him. Made fun of his daddy a little too much. Tripped him so he landed face-first in his offerings.”

“You did not,” Luke laments as he dots alcohol onto a cotton pad. 

“You’re allowed to say you’re proud of me, Saint Castellan. I won’t tell. You can be mean.” Your voice drips with irony, and you hope it bothers him. The flex in his jaw gives it away. 

“You’re always gonna be meaner,” is all he says back. “This is gonna hurt.”

It’s all the warning he gives before he presses the pad against your lip. The sting envelops you immediately, and your good eye squeezes shut. “Shit, ow!” 

“Stop moving your mouth.”

“Fuck,” you swear anyway. Your lip burns so hard you can feel it in your teeth. 

Luke holds your jaw with his other hand so you can’t shy away. “I’ll kiss it better,” he teases. “Almost done.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke takes the pad off a few moments later. “Serious question. How are you so awful to people all the time?”

A groan tears through your throat with such force your head tilts back. “Not you too! I don’t need a fucking reason, there is no reason. Why doesn’t anyone get that?” 

“I’m not asking why. I’m asking how.”

He’s oddly serious, the caress of his thumb on your cheek far slower. You hate it when people want a reason why you’re like this, just to help them sleep at night. But from the bags lining Luke’s eyes, sleep doesn’t seem to be on his radar. 

“I just don’t care,” you admit, shrugging. “I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care about what they can do to me. I don’t care about anything.”

“…What about the Gods?”

It makes you cock your head. “Huh?”

“You wouldn’t care about them, either?”

You think, but only about which words to use. “No,” you decide, “They don’t scare me. They’re nothing. What are they gonna do to me?”

Luke snorts, almost nervously. “Uh, punish you for saying that, for one.”

You turn back to him, ice pack leaving your eye as you gesture. “How? By killing me? Pecking out my eyeballs? Burning me alive? I’m telling you, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. It’s all just nothing to me. I’m fucking unpunishable, I’d like to see them try.” 

Huffing, you look back up at the firmament of stars. Luke says nothing. 

The grass rustles as he shifts, and his mouth ghosts over the bruise on your eye. “Unpunishable,” he murmurs, like he’s testing it out. Then he places an uncharacteristically gentle kiss just beneath your eye. And another just above. “We’ll see about that.”

You get that feeling again, the unbearable lightness in a place it shouldn’t be. Mixed with the poison lodged in your heart. 

Luke kisses you, still so delicate that you wonder if he’s been body-snatched. If anything, your bleeding lip feels soothed against his. His hands cradle your face with no ferocity at all. It seems wrong. 

“How do you feel?” He asks after pulling away, dark eyes nebulous and wide. The night usually sharpens his features. Now, they’ve been hushed.

“Um, better,” you reply. 

He hums, laying a slow trail of kisses on your jaw. “Did you at least get the other guy?” He asks between kisses. “Like, did you hurt him?”

“Not really,” you divulge, wondering if you should feel shame. 

“Why?” He’s made his way to your neck now, nudging your jaw up so he can kiss behind your ear. 

“I’m not a fighter.” And, without warning, for a reason you will never, ever be able to explain, your tongue adds, “I’m a killer.”

Your own brows furrow. Luke pauses for a moment, but knocks his nose against your neck. “Guess one of us has to be.”

There’s no more fooling around. No snappy insults, no feverish kisses, no hunger to be satiated. Luke just checks you over a few more times, hides his med kit, and you both get up to sleep. But his hand wraps around your wrist, far less firm than when he dragged you here. “Stay in my bunk, heathen,” he offers. “Leave in the morning.”

You think you’re making a mistake when you agree, but it doesn’t feel like one. 

The next day, after you’ve left Luke’s bunk, rumours float around camp that Luke Castellan accidentally butted some Apollo kid in the face with his sword during training. Caused a bloody, broken nose. Luke was very sorry, apologized profusely. 

But you know, by the way he takes you behind the stables that night, that he didn’t mean a single damn word.

luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz

rotten taglist: @thaliagracesgf

leave a pm/comment/ask if you'd like to be added to a taglist :)

[niya-writesshit]

ok so imagine art being your college roommate's boyf but he's only dating her to see you (sorry roommate!) — so everytime he walks into to see her, planting kisses on her lips, his eyes are locked on youuuu. and everytime you get kicked out so they can get freaky he's thinking about you, surveying the room to find pictures of you or pieces of clothing that are clearly yours..... and he's just such a perv about it..... and u don't even noticeeieieue

🌸

TW: sex, infidelious thoughts, swearing, art is a little bit of a dick + a perv, implied bra stealing idk

word count: 500 (on the dot!)

¡! ❞ a/n: basically yes and basically stick w me because the first bit of this is like from your perspective but it shifts dw!!!! also this is horrible expect extremely shitty writing it types this on my phone

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

art donaldson always felt like forbidden fruit to you.

he was so tantalizingly close. he would pop into your shared dorm room every once in a while, crooked smile plastered on his beautiful face. "hey baby." not words directed to you — but the way he said them, voice low and husky, made your stomach churn in a way that seemed infidelious to your roommate.

he was so tantalizingly close. he would ravish your roommate with kisses, nipping and sucking at her neck while you just sat there, sprawled on the bed, feeling like an intruder to their romance.

he was so tantalizingly close. he would smile sheepishly every time you got sexiled from your own dorm. "we'll be done soon." and when you waited impatiently by your door — 20 minutes later, listening to them still going at it, you couldn't help but feel envious.

he was so tantalizingly close that it hurt you to even be around him, knowing that you would never get him.

.....

the only reason art was dating her was to see you.

you were so tantalizingly close. he went over to your shared dorm to see her, but his eyes were stuck on you, clad in your tiny tiny shorts and big shirt that he fantasised was his. he felt himself getting hard each time you moved and he got a glimpse of your bra, or another stretch of skin. he hated that she thought it was for her when it was allllll for you — the low look in his eyes, the husky undertone his voice gained when he looked at you.

you were so tantalizingly close. he planted kisses on her neck and face. he was looking at you, pissed when you averted your eyes to look away as if you were ruining the moment — you were the whole reason he was even here.

you were so tantalizingly close. everytime she gave him the look, everytime you were forced to leave, he internally cursed. "we'll be done soon." he only says that so he gets to talk to you too, hoping you'll think about him as you wait for them to finish. and while he's pounding into her, his gaze wanders across the room, taking in the decorations on your side of the room. a bulletin board with your name on it — pinned with pictures of your face that helped him imagine he was fucking your pretty little pussy and not your roommate. he surveys the floor, hoping to see something that'll aid his imagination a little more. when he finds it — a blue bra curled up near your bed that didn't look like it would fit your roommate — his head starts spinning and he cums on the spot, barely looking at his girlfriend as he closes his eyes and sees your face instead.

you were so tantalizingly close that it hurt him to even be around you, because you didn't seem to see what was so blatantly in front of you — art needed you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"have you seen my blue bra?"

should i continue this idk????

¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

[secondbeatsongs]

with twitter imploding, people are talking about how much it'll suck to have celebrities and brands on here, but...I think celebrities can exist on tumblr in a healthy way.

because I've already seen it happen.

I don't know if you guys remember, but there used to be a decent number of celebrities on here! I mean, the white house had an official tumblr! so did my local library for some reason! everyone thought tumblr was the place to be!

we had George Takei, Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, Hayley Williams, Ariana Grande, Dylan Marron, Dante Basco, Rebecca Sugar, John Green, Hannah Hart, Jacksfilms, Daniel Howell, and Ashens to name a few, as well as brand accounts for Doctor Who, Sherlock, Denny's, and so many others.

(Cole Sprouse was even on here, and it was fine. don't act like it wasn't. it was really not a big deal! it was fine!)

there were plenty of celebrities and brands on tumblr a decade ago - and it worked fine when people knew to stay in their lane!

did Obama's official account give a shit when people posted Obamney slash? absolutely not!

did we pay attention to whatever the brand accounts were posting? we did not!

and so we existed pretty well together on this site - because, after all, we don't have to look at anything we don't want to. we can block people. and they can block us. and we can keep posting what we want, no matter what any celebs or brands have to say about it, just like it's always been.

the only thing I think needs to change is, well...hey...remember how I mentioned John Green and Rebecca Sugar up there?

yeah the reason we don't see them on here anymore isn't because tumblr isn't a place they'd thrive - it's because a bunch of assholes harassed them until they left.

and that's not fucking okay.

so look, if you see celebs/brands on here, follow them, or don't! block them and ignore them, or don't!

but if you send threats and harassment to anyone on here, whether it be a celebrity, brand, or average tumblr user, you are the asshole. full stop. sending threats to other people is never okay. never.

and yes, this goes for the corporate accounts too! those are still run by people!

it's somebody's job to run those accounts, and guess what! that poor, probably-underpaid person doesn't deserve to get sent gore and death threats because their job is running a corporate tumblr account!

just, whatever happens when twitter explodes and dies a horrible death, it's gonna be okay. but please be kind. above everything else, please, I am fucking begging you, be kind.

it's really the most important part of thriving here

[babygorewhore]

10 things I hate about you part three.

Logan Howlett x fem reader

The tension between you and Logan finally comes to a head in this final part.

Part one.

Part two

I found out my dog has cancer today. It’s been a horrible day but I still wanted to write and finish this series. I apologize if it’s shitty but I’m just tired. Can’t wait to write more of him. And if I didn’t tag you when you’ve asked, I simply didn’t remember.

Warnings! Angst! Talks of troubled past! Talk of death! Violence! Arguing! Oral! Fem receiving! Degrading! Praise! Unprotected sex! Hair pulling! Age gap! Reader is late 20s and Logan is late 40s!

“Keep glaring at me and your face is gonna get stuck like that.” You say without looking at Logan who was grumbling to himself.

You both were sitting at a diner the next morning from the all night ride on the bus. Your clothes were messy and your entire body worn out. Logan did allow you to rest on his shoulder until he nudged you awake and told you that you were getting off at this stop.

The waitress set down a pot of coffee, sugar and creams prepared. You were shocked to see Logan give her something close to a smile.

“I take it you want the usual order, James?” The older woman asked and he nodded. She turned to you and grinned.

“Ah, who’s this lovely lady?” You told her your name and she glanced between you both. “I’m glad to see him with someone.” His soft expression hardened and you cleared your throat.

“May I please have blueberry muffins?”

“Of course, sugar. Coming right up.” She chirped and walked away.

“I’ve never heard anyone call you by your first name.” You spoke and Logan rolled his broad shoulders.

“Yeah well that’s how I introduced myself to her.” He replied tiredly and leaned back. “Why didn’t you tell me what your power was?”

Logan’s question was one you wanted to keep avoiding at all costs. Your answer was complicated and you anticipated a poor reaction from you. You didn’t answer and his jaw flexed.

“Alright, bub. You wanna play this game with me? Fine. But I hope for your sake you have one hell of a reason for what you did.”

“Can we just not argue for five minutes?” You sighed and widened your eyes. “It fucking sucked. I get it. You don’t need to keep repeating it.”

To your surprise, he mumbled “Fine.” And watched you take a drink of the hot coffee. “Where are your parents?”

His personal inquiry took you by surprise and you paused. Logan’s dark eyebrow raised in expectation and you purposely took a long sip of coffee.

“They’re gone.” You answered in response and he tilted his head to the side. You exhaled and cleared your throat, setting your mug down. “My father is in prison. And my mother is dead. I killed her.”

Logan snorted and rolled his eyes but then focused when he saw your gaze hardened. He realized you weren’t joking. He opened his mouth but the waitress came with a tray, she set down his meal and two blueberry muffins for you.

“Can I get you a refill?” She asked and you nodded with a wide smile in thanks.

“Yes, please.”

You could tell Logan was itching to ask you more but waited for her to come back. “Leave the pot if you don’t mind.” He quietly asked and she took the hint.

You weren’t getting out of this conversation and you pushed around the food on your plate. “You heard me correctly. I murdered my mother.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Nice try but I’m not a dumbass. I know well enough. You’re not a killer. Something happened and she ended up dead.”

You flicked a hair out of your face and crossed your arms. “You don’t know anything about me. That’s something you’re missing. You just make assumptions about people because you’re bitter and angry at the world.”

This bravery was coming from exhaustion and discomfort but Logan wasn’t falling for your attempt. “She tried to kill me. And I had to stop her.”

“So you cover up all this shit with false charm and wit to distract people from the past? Interesting.”

You smirk. “It’s not false.”

“And you make some bet with the iceman, who wants to fuck you, that you can make me like you because of some dumb crush on me?”

Your heart plummets and you begin to shake.

“You also think I’m stupid. You think I’m so fuckin dumb that I don’t these games you play with people. All of this? All this pretending you do? It’s just an act to keep everyone from seeing what’s really inside. A sad little girl who was abandoned. And you’re hoping someone will help pick up the pieces. Well, it’s not me. Get it through your head.”

You sat in silence after he finished grounding out his lecture with a wave of different emotions. Shame that he knew about the bet. Sadness from him using that against you even though it was true and finally anger coursed through you.

Your first instinct was to get up. Run out of the building and hide away. Maybe even just leave him there and escape back to the school on your own. But that’s not what you did.

Your focus sharpened and Logan blinked a few times as he realized that he couldn’t talk or move. He was extremely strong, stronger than you could have ever imagined as he resisted but your growing temper was keeping him still as you leaned in close.

“I’m sorry about the bet. I shouldn’t have done something so stupid and I know that. But don’t you ever act like you have some kind of idea about me or my life. That would require you to think of anyone else but yourself. Don’t ever bring up that my parents abandoned me. I wish they did. I wish they would have left me instead of what happened.”

At the last word, you finally released him and Logan jerked. He huffed a breath as he watched you stand with red rimmed eyes.

“Xavier found me underneath a pile of a broken house. If it wasn’t for the table above me, I would have been dead that night. And now, I’m just trying to help other people. I’m just trying to be a good person. I didn’t mean to like you and sometimes I don’t even know why. You’re not nice to me. You’ve treated me like shit the entire time. And I don’t deserve that.”

You exited the diner as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your footsteps carried you back to the bus stop for this never ending trip. You’d have to get a new phone, otherwise you’d call someone to come and get you.

You sat on the bench for almost an hour when you heard his heavy footsteps approaching but your eyes remained on the road. Logan sat down next to you, his thigh almost touching yours.

“You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.”

You didn’t give him a response and through the corner of your eye, he faced you. “Susan, the waitress let me use her phone. Couple of people are headed our way to get us.”

You still remained quiet and Logan sighed.

“There’s also a trailer she owns behind the diner. She offered for us to stay there until they arrive.”

“No thanks.” You aimed your body to the side.

“I’m trying to make things right.” He started and you whipped to face him.

“And you’re doing a really shitty job, Wolverine.” You hissed his xmen name like venom and he actually recoiled. The big strong warrior flinched from you. “So please. Spare me the poor attempt and shut the fuck up.”

You’d never spoken to him like that and you got up. You began to storm off, searching for the trailer he spoke of when you felt a hand graze your elbow. In a rage, you twirled on your heel and put your hand on his firm chest.

“Stop chasing after me. You made your point. I was so fucking stupid for making the bet. The only thing you will ever care about is a woman who never chose you. She never chose you! I hid my powers from you because I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to think of her when you’d see me use them. I just wanted to spend time with you.” You whispered the last part and Logan’s eyes squeezed shut.

His fingers wrapped around your wrist but to your surprise he gently stroked the skin. Logan’s hold firmed and he tugged you closer to him. Your shoes touched his and he leaned his head down.

“Staying away from me is the best thing anyone can do. Everyone who gets close to me ends up dead. And I won’t have more blood on my hands.” Logan was rejecting you again but his gaze darted to your lips.

But you were the one to pull away.

Logan allowed you to move towards the trailer without another word and you both scanned the small space. There was only one bed but there was a couch as well. You automatically leaned towards the sofa and he stopped you.

“I’ll take the couch. You sleep on the mattress.” He grunted.

You didn’t argue.

You woke to Logan shouting in his sleep. His claws shot out of his knuckles and you kept a safe distance as he woke himself up. Your lower lip was pulled between your teeth as sweat came from his skin and he wildly looked around.

He heaved and sunk his claws back into the bone.

“I get them too.” You offered and he looked up at you.

“I would give anything to have one peaceful night of fucking sleep.” He whispered and you nodded. You took a risk and shifted around. Your legs hung off the bed and you climbed off. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I can help you sleep.”

Logan’s lips tightened. “Pills don’t work for me.”

“I mean using my mutation.” When he didn’t reply you deflated. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. I know you probably don’t like anyone in your head-“

“Yes.”

His agreement surprised you and you stopped short. You didn’t want him to change his mind about it so you quickly extended a hand. You rested your hand on his dark hair, absentmindedly stroking the soft strands and your heart fluttered.

“Just breathe.”

Logan shut his eyes and allowed you to search his mind for a happy memory. You half expected to see Jean but you instead saw him overseeing a class you instructed. You were smiling in his mind, unaware of him watching and you drew a diagram on a board. It was a calm class that was just an ordinary day.

You continued moving around his thoughts and saw even more images of yourself. Moments of you in the kitchen, play fighting with friends. You saw a time where you played with a service dog outside.

You then proceeded to dig deeper and saw young him. Quietly reading in a large bedroom, decorated in items that were older.

You dropped your hand and came back to the present. Logan’s breathing slowed and he didn’t look tense.

“You’re always so kind to people. Even when they don’t deserve it.” He chuckled. “You’re funny. Especially at night when you try to make the kids go to bed.” Logan looked into your eyes. “You don’t care what people think of you.”

“I didn’t know you even saw those things.” You whispered.

“Why would I want to ruin someone’s sunshine?” He countered and you leaned down.

“You don’t ruin anything, Wolverine.”

“I like that you use my name.” He admitted in a low voice and you swallowed thickly.

“Logan, I wouldn’t hurt you. Not on purpose. I didn’t mean to be so annoying-“

“I like that you push my buttons. You don’t let me be an asshole. You’re like a…puppy.” Logan smiled. It was a genuine one then it dropped. “I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier. Whatever happened between you and your family-it must have been a nightmare.”

“My mother was convinced I was a demon. She did things that were crazy but one night she snapped. And she tried to kill me. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just wanted her to stop.” You shuddered at the memory. “I have nightmares about her. That’s why I always stay up late.”

“Can’t say it gets better. Wish I could. After hundreds of years, I still remember every life I’ve taken. But you-“ He struggled to find the words. “Eventually, you can find meaning in this shitty world. You’re doing it with all those kids.”

“Well, well, Logan, you’ve given me a compliment.” Your teasing made him look at your proximity.

“Yeah. Think you’ve heard enough of me being a dick. Might as well tell ya something nice.” He huffed and you didn’t know what came over you. You bent down and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

You yanked back, startled by your own action. “I’m so sorry, you just-“

“Fuck it.”

Logan stood up and wrapped his massive hand around the back of your head. Your parted lips allowed him to easily crush his mouth to yours and you felt the back of your knees hit the mattress.

His kiss was bruising at first, hungry the way he moved on top of you between your legs. Logan’s hair fell forward and grazed your forehead as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You yelped as he tore away from your lips and peppered needy kisses along your jaw. “Logan-I don’t want you to feel like you need to-“

“Wanted to fuck you when you were on that goddamn stage.” He growled, tearing apart the top of your clothing. Exposing your chest and bra, Logan ran his tongue across your skin and nipped it with his teeth.

“I’m gonna fuckin ruin you.” He promises and you whimper.

Logan trails his fingers along your curves, his warmth searing against your bare flesh and his facial hair tickling your neck. “Such a pretty body. I’m gonna taste that pretty pussy and you’re gonna take it like a good girl, huh?” He huskily announces.

Even in your wildest dreams, you still couldn’t have imagined the moment of Logan Howlett tearing away your panties and groaning deeply. Your nipples hardened as he rolled two girthy fingers around your clit and gave it a spank.

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle being smacked around a little?” Logan darkly whispered and smeared your wetness around your folds. You threw your head back and whined as he dragged his lips down your stomach, pelvis and finally hovered above your cunt.

He eagerly dragged his tongue and licked you like melting ice cream. You buried your hands in his hair and pulled, moaning a slew of swear words as Logan drooled against your pussy. He slipped inside your entrance, filling you partially and you cried out.

Logan roughly turned you around, separating your ass and continued to eat your pussy. This angle was somehow deeper as your chest pressed against the mattress and you let out pornographic sounds. He held your calves down as he sucked and licked your cunt.

It was overwhelming and you were just about to hit your peak when he yanked away. But you didn’t have time to miss the contact when you heard Logan unbuckle his belt. You turned your head and looked over your shoulder.

You needed to enjoy every second of this so you maneuvered around and sat on your heels. You were breathless as Logan pulled down his pants and boxers. His dick was big, as you expected but it was so thick and leaked with precum.

“Don’t look so scared now, princess.” He hoarsely laughed and you stopped him from taking his shirt off.

“Let me.” He allowed you to peel it off and you admired his muscular torso. Your hands traced every avenue and his stomach tightened as your fingers moved above his v-line.

“Like what you see?”

“Mhm. You’re perfect.” You said sincerely and he pressed his lips to yours again. You tasted yourself on his tongue as he laid you on your back.

Logan wasn’t a gentle man by any means but he was tender in the way he held back his superhuman strength. He didn’t want to hurt you. He ran the tip of his cock along your slit and breathed through gritted teeth.

He pushed inside you, his dick stretching your cunt and you let out a throaty groan. You felt it pulse as he thrusted, filling you to the brim and his balls slapped against your ass.

“Cmon. You can take it, now you’re not so mouthy.” Logan snarled as your eyes rolled back and he lifted your legs up. Adding to the intensity as he fucked you. “Such a good girl, pussy squeezing me.”

You were nearly wailing and your nails dug into his back. He ran his tongue along your pulse point. “I’m-I can’t-fuck!” You squealed as Logan wrapped his hand around your neck.

“You gonna let me fill you up? Cum in you over and over again?”

You nodded rapidly.

“I’m not some little bitch. I don’t just bust a load in two seconds. You’re gonna cum and suck my cock with that pretty pussy till you can’t see anymore.” He promised and your vision whitened.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave and you were sobbing. Logan fucked you through it, using your leaking arousal to add further slip as he pounded you. Your head lulled to the side but he shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna hold you up.”

You were back on your knees and looking at the wall as he slammed back into you.

“That’s it, milk my cock like the slut you are. You gonna be a good girl and take it all for me?” He mocked and you gasped for air between crying.

“Cum in me, god please, cum in me, please! Please!” You begged and Logan slapped your ass so hard you squeaked.

He tangled his big fingers in your hair and controlled your rhythm as he made you bounce on it.

Logan shouted and rested his head on your back as he creamed in you. You felt warm ropes of cum spill and leak out. Another orgasm hit you hard and you bit the top of your hand.

His stamina was endless, you knew that but he did finally pull you into his chest after five rounds.

You laid there in silent bliss for several seconds and felt him press a sweet kiss to your temper.

“You free Friday night?” He asked and you perked up with a grin spreading across your face.

“Are you asking me out?”

“I’m trying to-“

You giggle and cup his face, kissing him hard. Logan rests his hand on your lower back.

“Yes. I’m free.” He gives you another rare soft smile and hums.

“Gives me time to find a decent car. Gotta do at least one thing right.” You gently touch his cheek and nuzzle against him.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m feeling deep urges to bite you.”

“Oh, here we go.”

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @taintandviolent @starkeysprincess @nemesyaaa

[glitterjay]

boyfriend jay giving you a lower back massage because of your pre menstrual cramps and body aches but he gets turned on by you moaning “mhmm right there love ahh” and fucks you until you’re overstimulated, massages and sucks your boobs coz its sore, whispers “i read sex is the best cure for pms” while thrusting deep

warnings: 18+ , mention of period and cramps, overstimulation(? unprotected sex

you were having a horrible day. your period was arriving which you could tell by the painful cramps you were getting beforehand. unable to stand up, you stayed in bed all day, hoping your boyfriend would understand your reason for not doing anything.

just as if you had summoned him, you heard keys jiggle and the door to your home opening. it was a sign that jay had returned home. it relieved you a bit knowing that he would definitely take good care of you.

the footsteps became more and more clearer as he approached your shared room. all you could do was wait patiently for him. soon enough the door made a creaking sound, your concerned boyfriend peeking through the gap.

“love, is everything alright?” you simply shook your head, pointing at your stomach. “cramps are killing me today.” he smiled sweetly, leaving his coat on a chair nearby and joining you in bed. he laid behind you so that you were between his legs, and started softly caressing your lower abdomen.

the feeling had you visiting heaven and beyond. his warm hands making contact with your skin as well as his sweet touch easing your pain. you were very vocal about your current state, letting him know his actions were just what you needed.

“yes baby, right there” you said as you picked up his hand in yours, taking it lower so he could add pressure to the area. on the other hand, jay was having a fight with himself. your moans of pleasure and the closeness of his hand to your heat were not an easy battle. his working pants were growing tighter by the minute, and so, he decided to help the both of you.

-

“hngh! too- too much!”

you dont even know how you ended up in this situation, but it was the best thing that had happened to you all day. jay was being rough. low groans were heard along the popping sound of him leaving your left boob to pay attention to the other.

he had a rough and steady pace, thrusting into you with force while sweetly massaging the rest of your body at the same time. “you know” he bent down, nibbling your earlobe as he whispered, “i read that sex is the best cure”

[zweiginator]

do u tbink reader and bsf!patrick would ever start hooking up but in like a fwb way? bc imagine….and wildly enough it’s HER who’s like ‘cant get attached’ blah blah blah. like it’s her being the one to make it clear that this doesn’t change anything, she’s completely platonic outside of it (well ok not really), she won’t think of them as dating even tho they practically are.

and it’s so obvious she thinks he’s not taking it seriously. assumes he’s going on dates. tries to not think ab it.

n eventually he just like loses it. points out how "it’s not fucking fair. you do all this shit to me, with me, and now you’re acting like i’m the crazy one for thinking we’re more than just fuck buddies? that’s all you wanna be? fuck off" and angry sex…..

NOT SURE JUST SOME THOUGHTS…

yes. youve seen patrick's ex girlfriends, how obsessed they still are with him. there is something so egregiously intoxicating about him--it scares you. truly knocks the wind out of you.

you didn't get it before you became friends with benefits. before you leapt over that line in the sand that had been toed over for year and years.

but that one night in september when patrick had just broken up with a girl, and you were feeling upset after yet another horrible date--you got it.

patrick comforted you that night. it felt selfish; you were upset about a guy you met maybe twice. he had just dumped a girl he thought he truly loved.

you brought up the idea.

"let's just be friends with benefits." you plead. the truth was that you were so curious about him. as he grew more and more and became a man instead of an immature little boy--you wanted to feel him.

"what are you talking about?" he didn't want to ruin your friendship. but thee truth was that he had broken up with his girlfriend because of a petty little disagreement. it was trivial, really. he told himself it was just pure incompatibility. but in reality, he resented her for not being more like you. nobody could be you--except for you.

patrick knew it would be complicated. for some reason, you figured it wouldn't be. patrick was always hooking up with and talking to new girls. it seemed like he had the no strings attached thing down pat.

patrick made love to you that night. that was the only way to describe it. slow, meaningful, deep thrusts, your legs wrapped around his waist. desparate for him to be closer.

his words were filthy. he spread your cunt open and cooed about how pretty it was. how it opened up just for him. how wet he had made you. so pretty. so perfect.

it made you cum. it made your nails dig and dig and dig into his back.

you understood how his exes turned obsessive. maybe not even turned.

so you vowed to never get too attached. to never ruin your friendship.

you never slept over at his place, and you never allowed him to stay the night at yours. no pillow talk or sweet nothings. no dates.

of course, these stipulations had loose definitions. and as best friends, it was inevitable to show appreciation to each other, to go out to an occasional nice dinner or impromptu lunch.

patrick was becoming more and more livid with you. you didn't know what had changed. he was more bossy in bed; he went from slow sessions of eating your pussy to slapping his cock on your tongue and commanding you: fucking suck on it.

of course, you liked it. you loved anything he did to you. but maybe you missed how sweet he used to be. you wouldn't admit to yourself why that was.

valentine's day was soon. and maybe patrick had assumed that you would be his date. he made reservations for you.

"patrick, what are you talking about? no, i'm not gonna be your valentine." you shake your head, taking his tennis rackets from him to shove in the backseat.

"what the fuck do you mean 'what am i talking about?'" patrick lowers his voice. "we've been fucking for like 6 months why are you acting like this?"

"exactly," you say. "we've been fucking. we haven't been dating. i told you this would be purely platonic when we started."

patrick scoffs, slamming the door. he's yelling at you now. "so you're just gonna act like i'm fucking crazy for thinking this is more than platonic when it is definitely more than platonic?" he forces the car into reverse, driving away angrily.

"you're mad because i'm keeping my word--no, our word."

"whatever." patrick spat. "you're full of fucking shit. acting like this hasn't been dating this whole fucking time. making me seem like a fucking idiot for thinking you liked me."

"i do like you-"

patrick seethes; the vein in his neck pulses as he parks the car. he's dropping you off at your apartment.

"get the fuck out. go home. this is over--all of it is."

you gather your things and get out of patrick's car. you have barely shut the door when he skids away. your breath is visible in the cold february air, but your body is hot, and stiff with anger and confusion.

you think he will break and call you first. but one week passes, and then valentine's day. and soon it's march and you haven't so much as seen patrick for almost a month.

it's stupid. you go to patrick's apartment. you look like a lost puppy dog.

he doesn't answer the door. you know he's home. his car is in the driveway, you hear music in his living room. maybe he's with another girl. maybe he really did move on.

you don't leave. it's freezing, and your jacket is light--it's not made for the dry cold that hurts at the end of winter.

patrick opens the door.

"what the fuck are you doing here?"

your lip wobbles.

"it's freezing out here what's your problem?"

patrick bullies you. he pulls you inside and wraps you in a blanket but sits on the opposite side of the couch. doesn't say a word.

you speak up; he cuts you off.

"i have nothing to say to you."

now you're begging. you're crying and the tears are stinging and you're on patrick's lap trying to get him to notice you.

"please pat, p-please. i miss you."

patrick grabs your jaw. he's stern. "this isn't how platonic friends act. this isn't how you fucking cry when you're just friends."

he's right.

you pull at his shirt. "please, i need you, i'll do anything. want you to be mine. i was so--stupid."

patrick is hard beneath you. he likes this.

"you're so fucking pathetic." he spits.

you get down on your knees in front of him.

"i'm so stupid."

"show me how much you want me." he pushes his sweatpants off; he's wearing no underwear. and his cock looks bigger. just as angry as he is.

you grab him into your hands and spit on his cock, moaning as you kiss it all over. lick him from his balls to the weeping head of his cock. suckling on him and hallowing your cheeks. saying im sorry im sorry im sorry.

he slaps his cock on your face. tells you you should be.

you feel how he pulses in your mouth; he groans as he pushes your face into his balls. you suck them into your mouth. your eyes water and your pussy drools for him.

patrick pulls you up. puts you on top of him. pushes your cunt onto his throbbing cock until you're gasping. god he's big and he's fucking relentless. you're not even moving and he's fucking up into you so hard you feel like you have whiplash.

but god, it feels so good. patrick pulls your hair, palms your ass, slaps your face. he rubs your clit and laughs at you. laughs at how much you're moaning. how easy you are.

"are you fucking sorry?" he asks. his balls slap against your ass.

you can barely get a word out.

"yes--i'm so sorry."

"tell me you love me." he wipes a tear from your eye. "tell me you fucking love me."

you nod, cumming right then. coating his cock in your slick, milking him.

"i love you patrick. love you so much. i'll never leave you again."

patrick cums too.

[codenamethebird]

Ok here's a little (not really) analysis/theory post about Hades 2, because I'm obsessed. Its consumed all my thoughts. And I need to talk about a theme I think will (hopefully) be addressed as the game progresses.

Here's some examples of dialogue that starts to touch on this conflict between mortals and the gods. What exactly do mortals deserve? We also have literal Icarus "flew too close to the sun" here too (and probably Pandora). Chronos was able to sway many to his side with a promise of a golden age without the gods, which is presented by the narrative as a foolish venture. And not saying it isn't, or that Chronos is the secret good guy here, but I believe Chronos is taking advantage of a very real hurt that exists for mortals.

This line from Nemesis really stood out to me, because it implies that while mortals have a concept of evil, the gods don't. Which sounds ridiculous but the more you think about it makes total sense. The gods in Hades (and just greek myth in general), are kind of the worst. They are petty and selfish, they literally attack you if their boon isn't picked first, and most vitally in this context, often utterly disregard mortals.

For example, one of the things that drove me a little crazy in Hades 1, was how chill everyone was with Demeter's never ending winter. Demeter was killing possibly millions upon millions of mortals and everyone else just sort of let it happen. Maybe complained a bit because it was annoying to them, but just stood by. And that's just one example. Mortal's have a very valid reason to hate the gods.

And considering we have more areas of the surface to explore that aren't out yet, I have a feeling Melinoë is going to be meeting some of these discontent mortals. And my hope is they are going to be nuanced characters, that will challenge Melinoë not just in a fight, but her very ideals.

Because Melinoë is very deferential to the gods, waaaaaay more that Zag ever was. Unlike Zag, who was more like a bro to them and was willing to suck up to them for personal gain, Melinoë seems to genuinely mean all the respect she gives them. She praises them, defends them when they are insulted, and just generally very polite to them.

In a smaller scale, she describes Hypnos as having a wisdom about him and can somehow sense her intensions while asleep. Which as Nem implies, the version in Melinoë's head doesn't exactly line up with reality (though sidebar, I am a believer in Chekov's Hypnos and that he's going to somehow save the day and put Chronos in a never ending sleep or something, but that's beside the point haha).

Melinoë's reverence to the gods makes total sense of course. She was denied her family and a happy childhood, and because of that has glorified them all in her head. The Olympians are sending her vital aid on her holy mission for vengeance and to save her family, even as their own home is being attacked, how honorable of them!

And I think part of Melinoë's arc is that perfect picture of them breaking into pieces. Yes, they are the better of the two options between them and Chronos, but that doesn't mean they aren't also kind of the worst. That mortals deserve better than frivolous gods that can decide on a whim their fates for better or worse (love u Moros but I'm still fucked up over you and your sisters giving mortals horrible doom endings when you were bored. At least he feels bad now but still. Perfect example of gods even when not intending to having horrific consequences for mortals). And maybe like how Zag healed relations with his family, Melinoë can start repairing relations between the Gods and Mortals.

[tiyoin]

✧ : *🦢 you’re joking,right? ･ﾟ:*

synopsis ───◌ in which the blue lock guys come crawling back years later,

characters ┈┈◌ itoshi rin ♡ michael kaiser

cw ──♡⃝ cursing, rin shows up unexpectedly at reader’s apartment. kaiser + ness’ weird relationship, kaiser clearing a fucking restaurant, kaiser.

𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐧

“Rin…”

He’s grown… He looks good.

You wanted to shake your head. No, you can't think like that, no, not anymore.

It’s been months, years since you’ve last seen the younger itoshi. And for good reason too.

“You shouldn’t be here…” You scanned the hallway making sure none of your neighbors were out and about to catch a glimpse of the itoshi rin, international football star and heartthrob.

“And why is that?” You could see the ever-growing frown on his face, which wasn't unusual for the stoic man. Walking around with a swagger that just radiated cockiness. That lets people know he thought he was better than them. If his aura didn't give that away then his icy glare would. Once subjected to his glare you would pick yourself apart, piece by piece as you wonder what you did wrong to deserve such a harsh glare.

It was his wall, as you liked to call it.

“Because” You stressed “You have no reason to be here at my apartment. Especially this late at night” Who were you kidding it was only 9:46 pm. People were out dilly-dallying by this time, entering bars and coming back from dinner. Hell, you had just finished your own when you heard a knock at the door.

He narrowed his teal eyes, “You’re wrong” Of course he’d start with that, you scoffed “I do have a reason to be here.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that” You let out an amused chuckle, elbow above your head as you draped yourself across your doorway.

Rin flicked his eyes inside, silently telling you this wasn't a public hallway conversation and that he'd rather be in the comfort of a home. You almost let him inside, keyword almost. But you knew the moment you let him, in he’d never come out.

He was trying to cross the line he drew.

He sighed, “Can we talk inside-“

“No, I quite like it out here”

His eyebrow twitched “Y/N you're being difficult-“

“I'm not being anything, you’re the one being daft.” You straightened out, reaching for the inside knob, and unlocking it before you closed the door. “What in god’s right mind makes you think I want to talk, let alone even look at you after the shit you put me through”

“I’d rather we had this discussion inside-“

“No.” You stamped out. “You don’t get to come to my apartment- my life and tell me what to do. You no longer have that right Itoshi”

You could see him anger at that name. You knew he hated being called by his last name, especially by you. He hated it so much that he begrudgingly (which was a lie by his red-tinted cheeks and small, loopy smile) permission to call him that horrible drunken nickname- ‘Rinnie’

“That’s why I’m here, to apologize-“

“For what? Publicly humiliating me at a cafe? Breaking up with me over text? Oh oh oh, or was it when you told me I was a 'Luke-warm cockroach who has nothing better to do than suck up to those in power because of my own insecurities?'. Almost got that tattooed ya know, just so I remember 'where I belong” You were angry.

“Yes.”

This man-

“Ha, what’re you on? Some 12 step program?”

“Stop being so petty y/n-“

“Petty? Petty! You ha-“

“Just let me talk y/n!” Rin seethed, each syllable laced with control and authority that your mouth just shut naturally on your own. Whatever you were about to say broke at the tip of your tongue.

“I’m here to take you back”

“You’ve got to be kidding me” you groaned

“I’m not” he took a step closer “I’ve reached where I want to be in life, I have my team, international fame, and all that kind of useless shit. And there’s only one thing I’m missing”

You rolled your eyes “a piece of meat to dangle off your arm”

“You”

You were growing tired of this.

“If you wanted me you shouldn’t have pushed me away”

Still facing the football player, you yanked back the door falling through the door frame. Rin’s eyes widened for just a moment as your eyes flickered to his hand which flinched in your direction. But by the time he reached you, he was met with the cold, hardwood of your front door.

“I won’t give up on you y/n. You know I’m a selfish man and I always get what I want

You snorted “drama queen” you muttered, walking away towards your couch, oblivious to the flowers he left on your doorstep.

Though the foreign ladies next door weren’t.

𝑲𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍

“ You haven’t changed a bit”

You froze, hands freezing mid-wipe as you straightened up, eyes locking onto the passing pedestrians.

“Bold as ever aren’t you” you muttered, adding something about him having 'the nerve'. Turning heel, you made eye contact with the black swinging door that led to the kitchen, aka, your savior from a particularly annoying diner.

“Fate favors the bold” you could hear the smirk in his voice as one pair of footsteps turned to two. Great, you sighed internally. You had a fan, which was quite ironic.

“You're wrong by the way" You took a deep breath in, collecting your nerves into your hands before bundling them into a ball and throwing them out of the restraint. "I have changed” you stopped walking, turning to look at the smirking German.

“Oh? And how is that?” He mused as he leaned in towards you.

“Because unlike before, I won’t listen to whatever bullshit you're about to spew” and you're off again. Darting towards the kitchen before he could have time to even breathe.

Ha. That’s funny y/n, that’s really funny.

“Aww that’s too bad” he sighed, applying pressure to your shoulder. His grip shifted as he stalked around you, now face to face (face to chest?) before he leaned down, inches close to your face “Because I was really hoping you would”

“Well I won't” you huffed trying to shimmy out of his iron grip, but to avail. You were stuck like a fly in a glue trap. Because no matter how much you moved and twitched. His grip, nor his smirk, faltered.

“Come, have a seat, a coffee even- hope you still like it the way you take it” pushing you towards the booth you were just cleaning that magically had two steaming mugs, you just let it happen. Yes, his hands were to himself, but you were trapped nonetheless.

Ugh.

“Kaiser I’m on the clock! Not all of us are world-famous footballers who won’t ever have to work in a day in their life” you sat down, and yes, Kaiser sat down next to you. For what reason? You’ll never know.

“Then you’ll like what I’m about to say” he purred, head resting in his hand as his blue eyes gazed at you, through you.

“If it went like our last interaction, I highly doubt it you egotistical-“

“Nothing of the sorts my rose”

You cringed at the old nickname. Pushing down the contradictory memories. The memories of him pulling you by your waist as a burst of bright, genuine laughter rasped from his throat, and another where he gently pushed a stray string of hair from your face as he softly called you by your nickname. Or one of your favorites where his shirt was off as he showed off the preeminent tattoo. The crown sits at his hand the connects to a vine of thorns that dances around his hand and towards his arm until it wraps around his chest and neck to where a rose sits.

You remember him placing your hand on the crown, and then on to the rose as he told you about how this will prove his love for you. How this will make sure you're always with him no matter what.

That was the moment you truly fell in love with Kaiser.

But then, like a tidal wave of sewage, other memories popped up. Where you were in your room as you sat down on your bed as Kaiser stood before you, back towards you as he spat insult after insult at you. Dumping you to the side of the road as he traded his rags for riches in the world of soccer.

Leaving you behind like a pile of shit.

“Don’t call me that” you mumbled, breaking eye contact as you focus your eyes onto the outside crowds. To the people walking down the street, oblivious to the diner shakedown that’s taking place.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my rose, my muse, my love-“

“I stopped being your love when you threw me out like a pile of shit to chase those dreams of yours!” The table screeched as you stood up, hip bumping into its side as you towered over the blonde who still wore that cocky smirk of his as he gave you a once over.

Oh you’ve never wanted to hit him so badly

“Then do it, if that’s what it takes for your forgiveness then I accept that as a trade for your temper tantrum”

“This isn’t a temper tantrum Kaiser-“

“Oh really? So what would you call it? I public freak out? A meltdown? A chip in a glass?“

“Oh my god, Kaiser stop” your voice broke, gripping your hair you plopped back down into the booth as you smothered your face in your hands. you couldn’t do this right now. You couldn’t deal with his passive aggressiveness, his condescending tones and words, his unnerving stare. You wanted out.

Through the gaps in your fingers, you noticed the once bustling diner, filled with feasting paternoster and busy waiters was now empty, deserted. You and he seemed to be the only two souls in this joint-

“You brought fucking Ness!” You screeched as you spotted a mop of blond and pink hair- a direct contrast to Kaiser’s - across the room. Ness greeted you with a smile and wave

Kaiser shrugged “he missed you- I missed you”

“Then stalk my Instagram like any other normal person”

“Wouldn’t have the same effect”

“Why are you here Kaiser” you drawled, imitating his position. Yet the hand over your head was more so to cover your incoming headache than placed there for fun.

“Simple. I’m here to get you back”

“You’ve got to be joking”

“With you? Never.”

“From how our last arrangement went- I’m aware.”

“He needed to focus on his career. You were too much of a distraction to him. It was messing with his plans- his goals”

“Here we go again” you groaned, slamming your head on the table.

“Let me guess” your voice came out muffled as you peeked out from your harm “to become the number one striker?”

“To provide a comfortable life for you,” Kaiser said. His voice was void of any mischief and his face drained of that impish smirk he usually wore. He was serious. He was more frightening when he was serious.

Different thoughts started swirling in your head.

He made that made face when you two broke up so he was serious. He’s playing you. But for what? You didn’t have anything to offer…. Is this a joke between him and Ness? Is he bored?

The gears creaked and fumed as your eyes ran between the two. Ness, who now sat in front of you was smiling per usual, and Kaiser to your left was anything but grins. Just what were these two assholes planning….

“If you wanted to do that then you shouldn’t have broken up with me- especially like that”

He sighed, shrugging as he shook his head “Technically, my rose. We never broke up. Yes, tensions were high and things got heated- but I never told you I wanted to break up “

“Yes you did! Shit” you launched up like a rocket, but due to the added presence across the table, your hip bones crashed into the table, effectively tumbling you over. Ness’ calloused hands stopped your head from colliding with the table as you groaned.

Looking up at him through lidded lashes, he merely smiled before pushing your head, and in addition, your entire body back to sit down

“Ness” Kaiser warned

“He helped me you prick”

“He isn’t supposed to touch” Kaiser wasn’t even looking at you at this point, he was just staring at Ness who lost his smile.

“Sorry Kaiser- I didn’t-“

“I’m not a fucking object Kaiser” you snarled, bringing attention to yourself so you could get out of whatever weird role play they had going on.

“I’m a person who is free to do whatever I want, whenever I want. So I’m leaving” pulling your legs up you hooked your arms over the booth head and slinked over the top. You didn't care what they were looking at as you climbed over, convincing yourself you could sacrifice a little bit of divinity for a greater cost.

Once on the table over, you glanced back and saw two pairs of eyes staring at you curiously as you hobbled off the table and made a beeline towards the door.

Thank fuck it was open despite the open sign being flipped around. With an anguished dingle, you raced out the door and ran passed the windows, the same windows you people watch from.

Only now it was reversed, as the two footballers watched you escape down the road. One was no longer smiling, and another was smirking, drawing a rose in a tiny fogged-over section, letting you know this was far from over.

[lxstfathier]

Dom!William Afton with a breeding kink x an inexperienced and shy F!Reader? Maybe even their first time 🫣

You have no idea how much i love breeding kink, so it was a pleasure to write this, hope you like it! 💗

Innocence

William Afton x Reader

Warnings: blood, breeding kink, loss of virginity, wiliam just killed someone and now he wants to fuck lmao.

As soon as you hear the front door open, you drop whatever you were doing and run all the way there, just to greet your boyfriend with a big hug as you always do.

But tonight is different. When you see William with dried blood all over his hands and his purple shirt, you stop dead in your tracks a few meters away, admiring the horrible scene, not sure of what happened to him. Maybe he had an accident? you don’t know, but it makes you feel really worried.

“Will?” you say his name softly, slowly walking up to him. “Why are you covered in blood? what happened?”.

“I’m fine, bunny, don’t worry about it” he shrugs it off, as if it wasn’t a big deal to be a bloody mess.

“Obviously you’re not fine, you have blood everywhere!”.

You try to touch his stained shirt, but he stops right you before you do it, wrapping his right hand around your wrist.

“It’s not mine” he says, with a deep low voice that makes you feel shivers down your spine. “Now why don’t you stop worrying and give me a little kiss, hm?”

When you look up at him, you can clearly see that something is a bit… odd. His eyes are dilated, leaving little space for his blue irises, small droplets of blood are barely visible on his glasses, and he’s breathing heavy. Something unusual. But you find it strangely hot, so you don’t care, you obey and get on your tiptoes to give him a soft kiss on the lips.

However, William is not in the mood for a simple innocent kiss. He just took the life of someone less than an hour ago, he can still feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and there’s nothing he craves more than to ruin your innocence and take all of his stress out on you.

So he corners you against the wall, deepening the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth as he puts his knee between your legs, pressing it slightly to your clothed heat.

“You’re gonna be mine tonight” William growls between kisses, more as a declaration than a question, gripping your jaw with his bloody hand, intoxicating all your senses with the intense iron smell. “There’s no escape this time”.

And you would be lying if you said that you don’t feel a little bit of fear. You’ve never been with a man before, you don’t know what to do, and he seems to be out of his mind for some reason. But you try your best to stay calm, just letting it happen, unbuttoning his shirt with shaky hands.

William moves his lips from your mouth to your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin while his big hands find its way under your shirt, playing with your soft tits, making you feel butterflies in your lower belly.

“Will” you whimper, not sure of what else to say, but clearly begging for more than just kisses and lingering touches.

“What, bunny?” he asks, pinching your hard nipples. “Want me to fuck you already?”

“Y-Yes. Please.”

When he hears those sweet words come out of your lips, he takes you to the couch, not even bothering in going to the bedroom. So desperate to finally break you and ruin you for any other man, stripping you naked as fast as he can, admiring your beautiful body for a second before pushing you to the comfy sofa.

But you feel exposed, and really nervous, so you close your legs as you lay on your back, too shy to fully reveal yourself to him.

“C’mon, don’t hide now. Let me see that pretty pussy” William says, prying your legs open with his hands, watching with a hungry gaze at you perfectly untouched cunt, all ready for him.

He runs a thumb over your slick folds, and then rubs your clit in fast circular motions, causing you to squirm and whine at the sudden pleasure.

“So fucking wet already” he grunts. “You want this as much as i do, don’t you, bunny?.”

“Mhm” is all you manage to say, too lost in the way he’s touching you so deliciously.

But, when you feel your orgasm start to build up, William stops his movements, taking his hand up to lick his thumb, enjoying the sweet taste of your juices mixed with the innocent blood.

You should feel grossed out, but there’s something in the sickness of it that makes you feel even more aroused, biting your lower lip in anticipation as you see him take off his shirt and unbuckle his belt.

Finally, his cock springs free, and your heart beats faster when you see the size of it. It’s big, way more than you thought, how are you supposed to take that if you can barely take one of your fingers?.

“I- It’s not gonna fit” you say, shaking your head as he lines the pink tip of his cock to your tiny hole.

“I’ll make it fit.”

Without a warning, William starts sliding inside your wet cunt, and you can’t help but whine at the painful stretch, digging your nails into his arms, toughing it out like a good girl.

“So fucking tight” William growls once he’s fully sheathed in your walls, looking down at the bulge he’s creating in your tummy. “You’re taking me so well, fuck-“

He gives you few seconds to adjust to his cock, and then starts thrusting at a slow pace, so deep that you can almost feel him in your guts, making you roll your eyes back in pleasure.

But William can’t hold back anymore, he speeds his movements, soon fucking you at a brutal pace, pounding your tight pussy as if there was no tomorrow, while you just moan and squirm under him.

“You feel so good, bunny” he grunts, hitting that soft spot inside you that has you seeing stars. “This pussy was made for me, fuck-“

You scratch his back, so lost in the delicious sensation of his cock dragging against your walls, feeling the knot in your stomach grow tighter.

“Cum in me, Will, please” you whine, wanting nothing more than to feel his load inside you.

“Yeah? you want me to fill you up?” He groans, reaching down to play with your clit again. “You want me to breed this little pussy? Get you pregnant just for everyone to see that i ruined your innocence?”

His words, mixed with the fast movements on you bundle of nerves is enough to drive you over te edge, clenching hard around him as you writhe in pure bliss, letting the orgasm flow through every part of your body.

William follows right after you, grunting as he thrusts hard a few times, finally spilling all of his hot cum into your fertile womb, almost crushing you under his weight as he comes down from his high.

After you’re both done, he doesn’t pull out, he stays inside you for a while as you catch your breath, just sharing a tender moment, with your sweaty bodies still intertwined.

“Can’t wait to see you all round with my child” he says, looking down at you with his pretty blue eyes, giving you a soft kiss on the lips as you play with his beard. “You’re gonna be the best mom ever, i know it…”

[rainyvalentines]

Hard to hate

pairings…clarisse la rue x daughter of nyx

description…clarisse hates you but can’t help falling for you

warnings…a little angsty

requested…yes

w/c…734 words 3907 characters

an…i hope you like it!! again i finished like the entire thing in one sitting 😋

You had came to camp a few weeks ago and you were quickly claimed. Everyday your mom would give you a little gift like necklaces or bracelets.

You could feel the watching eyes of the camp, specifically a certain daughter of Ares, Clarisse La Rue. Every day you were made fun of and picked on in some way.

She would always glare at you when you did anything, especially if you had gotten a gift. You knew she fought for her father’s attention which she barely got. When she did it was almost always negative.

You felt bad for her but there was nothing you could do for her besides watch.

————————————————————————————— clarisse’s pov

I hate y/n. She always gets attention from her mother. I want that. I deserve the attention.

Today is capture the flag so maybe it’ll distract me. I’m on her team though. I bet you she’s horrible at fighting. She is kinda cute..

We better win this time. I’m tired of loosing every single capture the flag. It was always Athena and the Hermes cabin that won.

—————————————————

2nd person pov

As you prepare for capture the flag you can still feel Clarisse’s eyes on you. She’s always looking at you, you didn’t even do anything to her.

Your team was talking about the plan and you got put on defense which sucks but better than having to attack the other team.

Capture the flag was starting soon so you got in position. You hear the conch shell blow and yells erupt. You sat on a rock waiting for anything to happen.

You see a group of Athena’s kids running towards you. You quickly stood up and held your sword out. You try to defend yourself but it didn’t work. They overpowered you sending you to the floor.

“We hate kids like you. You aren’t special.” One of the girls spat.

“I didn’t do anything!” Tears started to prick your eyes as she stood above you.

“Why do you get the attention!”

“I-I don’t know what you mean!” You stuttered.

“You always get attention from your mom!”

“That’s not something I can control!”

“I don’t care! You don’t deserve-” She was cut off as someone hit her.

“Get off of her!” You recognized that voice. Clarisse? Why was she saving you?

All the girls quickly ran away at the sight of Clarisse. You looked at Clarisse who quickly runs after them.

“What the fuck..” You murmur. You get up and walk to the beach. As you stand there you start to cry. “I can’t control my mom..”

It was stupid they attacked you just because of your mom. So many people at the camp did that. They were jealous or just hated you for no reason. You never had hurt anyone or was rude. They didn’t have a reason to hate you, they just did.

You saw a kid from the Hermes cabin with their flag. You sighed as they won the game, again.

After a few minutes passed you heard someone walking on the rocks. “You okay?” Of course it was Clarisse.

“I’m fine..what do you want?”

“I just saw you alone and it looked like you were crying.”

“It’s nothing. Why do you care?”

“Are you sure cause you’re literally sobbing.”

“I’m tired of everyone hating me because of my mom! I didn’t even do anything!”

“I don’t hate you..” She muttered under her breath.

“What..?”

“Nothing!”

“I thought you hated me..”

“I could never..I like you”

You glanced up at her. She likes you?

“I-I like you too..”

“Really?” She sat down beside you. “Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

“I’d like that..” You mumbled. She softly grabbed your chin and kissed you gently. Your heart was beating a million times per second.

“I’m sorry you thought I hated you..I was just jealous that you got so much love from your mom..My dad doesn’t really do that for me..”

“It’s okay..” You lean into her. Her hand wrapped around your waist as she rested her head on yours.

“I love you..”

You giggle. “I see we aren’t trying to beat the stereotypes? I love you too..”

“Oh shut up! Come on I’ll walk to back to your cabin.”

“Thank you. Truly, you saved me from the Athena girls”

“It’s no problem” She kissed your temple as you walked to your cabin.

Maybe this camp isn’t that bad.

[zombieunicorngamerzu]

(Nat Scatorccio x fem reader on period)

[Warnings - Oral while on period to help with cramps, whiney Nat begging to eat you out, mentions of cannibalism and Nat liking the taste of blood]

“Come on babe, lemme help….” Nat whined at you, she’d been at it all day, tending to you on your period with chocolate, a hot compress on your tummy, cuddles, kisses, but now what she wanted to do was help you with your cramps… in a more sensual manner.

“No, Nat, that’s disgusting.” You shook your head again, you couldn’t believe your girlfriend wanted to eat you out while you were on your period. “Come on, I’ve eaten worse.” She countered which made you freeze, it had been weeks since you all ate Javi and hearing her say that so nonchalantly was… disturbing. “Natalie.” You just stared at her, she quickly realized what she said and stuttered out as she stepped forward,

“Look, you know what I mean, and just- in biology class they said that orgasms help with period cramps, something about relaxing your like uterine wall or something.” She rasped out with a innocent shrug, the thing was, Natalie really wasn’t bothered by the taste of blood for some reason, but after eating Javi…. She kinda just started craving it. She felt disgusting and horrible for it but she’s just had this fantasy of eating you out on your period, plus she was hungry. She knows it’s weird and like utterly disgusting to think it but… she was thinking, (hey, it’s kinda a meal, blood has iron and protein, right? Calories?) she shrugged at the thought before approaching you again to beg again.

“Please baby, I wanna help you, just please… let me.” She pleaded again with those begging eyes she would give you, jutting her lip out just right making you cave with a sigh, “God- fuck Natalie, fine.” You sighed out before laying down, you didn’t understand why she would do this but if it would help with your cramps, fine. Plus, she looked so happy and excited when you said yes, dropping to her knees almost immediately to tug off your pants.

“You won’t regret it baby, I promise, now just relax, let me take care of you.” She spoke with such a loving tone before spreading your legs, her eyes locked on the mess between your thighs, licking her lips and swallowing unconsciously before kissing your knee and down your inner thigh before finally meeting where she wanted, hesitating before she just pushed her face in between your thighs completely, her tongue slipping through your folds with a loud groan like moan coming from her.

You’d never heard her moan like that before, and god, you’d never had her eat you out so eagerly before either. Nat ate you out like she was starved, loud sucks and messy wet noises sounding out as she flicked her tongue and sucked at your folds, her lips grazing your clit to make you shiver and tremble as she rubbed your thighs, “Fuck baby, god… you taste so fucking good…” she panted out, making you whine out, for some reason her words embarrassed you and turned you on more, moaning out as you pushed your hand down to grip her hair, moaning for her through quick gasps, “N-Nat, I’m gonna cum!” She just smirked against your clit, sucking on it harder to make your eyes roll back before mumbling out, “Come on baby, cum for me!”

And at those words your body keened up, back arching and body tensing as you cried out, getting thrown into a burning orgasm because Nat wouldn’t let up, crying out as you came, tugging on Nat’s hair so hard she whimpered, helping you through your orgasm before finally pulling away once you went limp. Your eyes widened at the sight of her, face covered in your blood which made you blush red with a whine, “Nat, ew.” She just smirked and wiped at her face timidly, “What? I can’t help it, I’m starving.”

(This was a little weird, but I just saw the gif and got the idea to write this. I know it’s gross, but Mabye it’s a turn on for some people, idk. Don’t come after me. Lol)

[infamous-if]

RO reaction to MC just bombing on stage? Just having a bad day and singing/performing terribly? But sitcom level terrible. How would they break the news? Would they tell them?

This is so funny omg

The song ends and you do a quick bow, trying to catch your breath. That was good, right? You glance back at your band members, who are all weirdly looking away. When Rowan catches your gaze, he quickly turns his head, suddenly interested elsewhere. You shrug. Meh. It was good to me.

You and your bandmates get off the stage and you beam when you see [RO]. "So? What'd you think?"

Seven (no hatred): Seven makes a face that's a cross between a grimace and a flinch. They put their hands on your arms, rubbing it affectionately. Oddly enough, it feels like Sev's trying to make you feel better about something. "You know I always think you're great." You can't help but pick up on the emphasis on the 'I.'

"So it was good?"

They narrow their eyes comically small and nod slowly. "Ye...aa...h?Yeha.....aeah...." As if giving up on the pretense, they shake their head. "No. It wasn't. Do you have a stomach ache perhaps? Heart burn?"

"What? No. Why, that bad?"

A shrug. "If I suck, I'd like to tell myself it's for a reason so I can feel better."

"If?" you say.

Seven grins. "Hasn't happened yet."

Seven (during-hatred): "That was fucking embarrassing."

G: G beams and puts two palms on your shoulders. "I really appreciate your dedication to the bit."

You tilt your head, confused. "What?"

G's brows furrow, and then they drop their hands. Then they realize something and huff out a laugh. "Wait. That wasn't a joke?"

Panic rises within you. "No?"

G's cheeks balloon--as if they're trying not to laugh--before the effort fails and they double over. "Oh my god. Seriously?"

"G?! Are you laughing at me?"

They can't stop their laughter and they put a hand on their cheek, awed and amused all at once. "That was terrible. I thought you were kidding! Holy shit, I need a copy of that performance for posterity."

Victoria: "Um." Victoria averts her gaze, looking a bit awkward. "I'm going to tell you because I care about you: it was kind of horrible."

"Kind of?"

A flinch. "Very BUT." She puts her hand on your cheek. "This is just one performance. You'll do great tomorrow! Maybe you were just stressed..."

"I thought it was great..." you mumble.

She makes a face, dropping her maternal act a moment. "Seriously?--Oh." She shakes her head. "Sorry."

Sebastian: Sebastian stares at you blankly, though he looks a bit guilty. "I don't have enough experience to have an opinion."

You shove him playfully. "Just tell me."

Sebastian's throat bobs and he says: "It didn't sound great but I don't know enough to feel confident in that claim."

You frown, feeling both hurt and confused. "Why do you sound like you're in a job interview?"

"You know, I think this conversation would be more beneficial to your progress with someone else..."

August: August tilts their head. "Are you asking seriously or is this supposed to be a joke?"

"What?" "Oh. So serious then." They thin their lips, teetering on the heels of their shoes as they think. "It was bad."

"What?"

"Yeah. Terrible, actually." August smiles. "But that's okay. We all have bad days, don't we?"

"The thing is, I thought I did great..."

Their smile drops. "Oh..?"

Orion: Orion doesn't look up from his phone and you frown, tapping him. "Hello?"

He meets your gaze and waves his phone. "Sorry, I was just on Indeed looking for another job." "What? Wait, the performance was bad?"

He looks momentarily horrified, and then helpless, and then disappointed. "The fact that you can't even tell worries me greatly."

You frown. "I thought it was good."

He shakes his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose in resignation. "This is my fault. I've been coddling you too much."

"You think what you do is coddling?!"

[olderthannetfic]

Something that frustrates me about the Harry Potter conversation is a lot of people missing the point behind the motivation to boycott it. They seem weirdly focused on the content of HP when it's actually... not that bad? It's not perfect, in fact a lot of aspects are pretty fucking problematic and worthy of discussion, but not uniquely so by the standards of the fantasy genre. Yes, I know the goblins are clearly drawing on anti-semitic tropes. Yes, the house elf situation is fucked. Yes, lots of not-like-other-girls-style misogyny. Yes, Cho Chang was a fucking disaster of racism. I KNOW THIS ALREADY! I'm not an idiot and Harry Potter fans were talking about this for far longer than JKR has been a TERF. But I'm also a fan of the Elder Scrolls and Dragon Age and the Witcher and a shitton of isekai anime and tons of other fantasy medias which are so much worse. Harry Potter is only moderately problematic by the standards of most popular fantasy media, especially for the mainstream standards of the time period it was written. Worthy of criticism, but not dropping it entirely. And actually reading HP and looking back at JKR's behaviour at the time, much of it seems largely unintentional, just that JKR drew on a lot of fantasy tropes that she didn't properly examine as well as her own unexamined biases and she had some flawed understandings of progressivism that were fair for its day but don't fly now, but doesn't seem malicious. The actual authorial intent at least seems to be pretty progressive at least, even if the execution wasn't the best. And sure, it's not a masterwork but there's a reason it connected to so many people, even if a lot of it was luck and timing. We don't have to ignore that and doing so feels dishonest.

I'm just so annoyed when people try to shit on the contents because they're missing the point and confuse the actual problem in a way that weakens their argument. I don't give Harry Potter money anymore because JKR crossed some lines for me in real life, totally separate from Harry Potter as a piece of media, and I don't want to fund her bullshit because she is so influential it is hurting people. The content of her books is utterly irrelevant to this decision. She could have penned a goddamn magnum opus and it wouldn't have mattered. So I'm sick of people bringing up books that are "better" or ragging on the contents of Harry Potter because none of that is the point and never was the point and it comes across as just taking advantage of a shitty situations to dunk on a popular thing or those who enjoyed it. Yeah, it was a mediocre fantasy series. But it hit the right emotional escapist buttons in a lot of kids even if it had the moral nuance and depth of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles anti-drug PSA. Having to drop it sucked for a lot of people because it can't be replaced and yelling about how bad the writing was doesn't change that because it never was about quality. JKR's TERF transformation was in many ways a betrayal of JKR's intended audience considering how the text preached acceptance and love and starred an abused, unwanted child getting to go to magic school where he's special. Pretending Harry Potter should be dropped because its content has issues obscures the actual problem of a raging transphobic having money and influence and that not everything created by bad people is poor quality so boycotts might require giving up access to things you actually like or are valuable and that's not always an easy decision to make.

JKR was a probably decent person with fairly liberal politics when she wrote Harry Potter. The books, while imperfect, are not more horrible or full of problems a dozen other popular fantasy properties. JKR become a TERF later in life and while she may have had ingrained transphobia prior to this when she wrote Harry Potter, that is not the same as the virulent hate-movement she's part of now and we should recognize how easy it is for people to get drawn into hate-movements. Any argument to boycott should be about how she's using her money and influence to affect real life laws and attitudes unless you want to try and get people to also drop half the fantasy genre.

--

[scoops-aboy86]

Just Keeping Life & Soul Together (Secret Admirer pt 4)

Steddie Week 2024, July 4: Trade / body swap / Wouldn't It Be Good by Nik Kershaw

wc: 1812 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

By the time Steve recovers enough to drive home, it’s time to clock out anyway. Robin hangs back, not taking off on her bike until she sees him get in the car, and he’s had more time to think about it now. 

Robin’s outfit that she’d changed into in the employee bathroom after clocking out is an eclectic mishmash of different colors and patterns; Secret Admirer said they wear mostly dark colors. That’s not the only reason it isn’t her, but Steve can’t quite put a finger on anything else. It’s just… she has a very different vibe. 

He’s exhausted and still not feeling great, so that’s as far as he thinks about it. 

But the next morning he wakes up, still with some of that post-headache grogginess but better, and realizes that if she was telling the truth about someone in the ice cream parlor sending him that cone, Secret Admirer was there. Probably saw how out of it he was and felt bad, but not bad enough to overcome their reservations about revealing themselves. 

God, Steve wishes he could remember who had been in Scoops when his efforts to ‘man up’ and push through the pain had crumbled. He doesn’t, but that’s okay. Robin knows. 

~

Dear Secret Admirer,

Yes keep writing. Please keep writing. My head’s been killing me these past couple days and wanting to write back to you is the only thing that’s kept me going. I’m sorry I got Bilbo’s name wrong. 

So I guess you already knew I had a headache the other day since you sent me that ice cream. That was you, right? Strawberry with rainbow sprinkles? I wish you would’ve stayed. I know you’re shy or scared of me not wanting you once I know who you are, but it really kind of sucked that you didn’t. I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything but I missed you so much even though I don’t know you. But I feel like I do know you, because you keep telling me things about yourself, like bread crumbs in that fairy tale from the book my mom used to read to me when I was a little kid but she stopped a long time ago because my dad didn’t want me to be a sissy momma’s boy. But fuck that, sometimes everyone needs to be read a story so they have something good in their head while they go to sleep, okay? I have nightmares a lot. I can’t tell you about them because I signed an NDA, but they’re horrible. I wake up screaming sometimes, only I can’t when my parents are home because my dad gets pissed and my mom gets disappointed, just like they did about how hurt I got last year. And the year before. It’s all connected and it’s all bullshit and none of it was my fault, I just happened to be there and I got sucked in and I keep getting sucked in and some nights I can’t even sleep anymore. 

You said you smoke, right? Cigarettes and other stuff. Cigarettes don’t help, drinking makes me feel like shit, so maybe I should try the other stuff. Does it help with sleeping? Do you think it would help my headaches or make me not dream so much? I’m so tired and I keep thinking that if I got some the smell would be like you’re there, since you smoke it too. I want to feel like you’re here with me so I’m not alone. Maybe if you were here the nightmares wouldn’t be as bad and I could get some sleep and then the headaches wouldn’t happen as often because you were right, they get worse if I don’t get enough sleep or if I’m stressed out. 

What if you called me sometime? 555-5555. You wouldn’t have to say anything, maybe just play some of the music that you think I’d hate and I can tell you if I do or not? Just let me talk to you? The hard thing about writing is I have to fill a whole page without any way to know what you think about any of it for at least a few days, and I guess a one-sided phone conversation isn’t that different but it would be something, right? I might like your music after all and then we’ll have something in common. Or maybe I can listen and then you can write to me about why you like it and if it’s something I didn’t think of (there are a lot of things I don’t think about on the first try, perspectives and stuff) maybe it’ll grow on me. Sorry if I’m pushing too hard but you said you wanted to give me something with all this and it was just an idea I had. You could give me new things to find out about, like with the Hobbit in his hole eating his hobbit breakfast. (I really liked the part with the glowing sword, that was awesome, I wish my bat would glow when )

Anyway. Robin knows about my headaches now too I guess, which is embarrassing. She was nice about it though and let me hide in the back until I could go home, but she probably still hates me for being King Steve. I’d write about something else but there’s not a lot going on in my life besides you.

— Steve

PS My parents are gone all this week, so if you do call it’s just me here. And you can call whenever, but maybe Friday at 10:30? You don’t have to though. Just keep writing.

~

The next time Steve goes to work, head no longer in danger of splitting open, Robin still calls him a dingus. It doesn’t feel as mean as it used to though. So that’s something. 

It’s easier now to take her jabs in stride. Before he’d just tried to let it roll off him like water off a duck, but he cautiously tries out responding in kind. 

“Your hat’s on backwards,” she calls across the parlor, smirking when it makes him reach up to check. “Made you look!”

Five minutes later, he gets her back with, “Your shoe’s untied.” When she glances down, he grins and adds, “Yeah that’s right, Buckley, two can play at this game.”

“Oh, it is on, Harrington.”

They start racing during the slow times when there are only a couple of people in line at a time, one sticking to scooping and the other ringing up while the former tries to move the second customer along before the latter finishes the first transaction. It’s a much better use of the You Rule / You Suck board, though she does still add tallies for whatever she considers Steve’s failed flirting attempts. (He’s not even trying anymore, not with Secret Admirer always on his mind these days.) Makes the ache of pining a little easier to bear; makes the day almost fun. 

“Hey, so,” Steve ventures while they’re cleaning up after close. “I have a question.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin tense up. “What?”

He feels wrong-footed already, if just that was enough to put her on edge, but he can’t stop now that he’s pulled the trigger. “Who, uh. Who sent me the ice cream the other day?”

She blinks, and once she’s processed the question the stiffness in her posture goes away as quickly as it had come. “Oooh. You think someone’s sweet on you, is that it? Admit it.”

“No,” Steve sputters back. Even he had to admit, though, that the way his face heats up immediately really undercuts the claim. 

“Tell you what.” She crosses her arms and leans back against the counter, eyeing him smugly. “I’ll trade you for it.”

“You’ll.” Now it’s his turn to blink. “Trade me?”

“Yeah. I have information that’s valuable to you, apparently, so you give me something that’s valuable to me in exchange.”

Steve scratches the back of his neck, trying to think. “I could… give you dating advice?”

Robin snorts. “Absolutely not.”

Flustered, he throws up his hands. “Well what do you want, then?”

She’s full on grinning at him now, and while it’s not necessarily malicious (which he appreciates) it’s still at his expense (which he does not). “Uh-uh, you’ve got to put your thinking cap on and come up with something on your own, Mr. Hair. It’s more genuine that way.”

“What? Nooo,” Steve groans, but he supposes he’s grateful that she didn’t whip out the ol’ it builds character that his dad threw at him when ordering him to get a menial summer job. “And I don’t have a thinking cap.”

That makes her actually laugh. “Well duh, who’s dorky enough to own an actual thinking cap?”

Dustin does, Steve thinks fondly. The little squirt is only off at camp for another week, and he really has missed the little shithead. It’ll be nice to get along with his coworker and have a friend around… as pathetic as that does make him feel. 

But whatever, first he has to figure out what Robin might want in exchange for what could very likely turn out to be his Secret Admirer’s identity.

~

Every time Eddie has seen Steve since that Tuesday at Scoops, he’s with his coworker Robin. Apparently he’s started giving her rides so she doesn’t have to bike everywhere all the time. They talk animatedly, like little kids racing from thought to thought as they gleefully mock and annoy each other. 

And it’s probably his fault somehow. Maybe knowing that Steve was actually suffering instead of suffering his own consequences had softened her up, allowed her to pause and notice the soft and genuine person underneath what remained of the King Steve veneer. Maybe it’s impossible not to fall in love with Steve Harrington. 

Whatever it was, the results make Eddie yearn to swap lives with some girl he doesn’t even know. Someone who gets to touch Steve on the arm without reproach—even if it’s more of a punch than a touch, jeez. The only relief he gets from the green monster of jealousy twisting around his heart is Steve’s letter asking him to call, so even if Robin is interested now then it seems she’s out of luck. 

Call. And not even talk, but just listen to Steve’s voice and maybe play selections from a few of his favorite albums, then spend his next letter talking about why they’re his favorites. This perfect man has managed to pluck three of his favorite things to do out of thin air and present the offer as a favor to Steve rather than, uh, only the closest Eddie has ever been to going on an actual date in his entire life. 

… If only he felt in any way prepared.

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls

@matchingbatbites @ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor

@whalesharksart @thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme

@dauntlessdiva @nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever

[fuwaprince]

👉👈 Hi friends! I have a long, serious post made just for you(!) that isn't full of spoilers, smut or mooning lawn gnomes. Please read if you can, this is a 💥 mutual aid request 💥

It has been a horribly painful and long while as most people following/keeping up with me know. and in a few days I'm going to be down $1500, which is basically all my fucking $

I can't afford Christmas for anybody, which sucks and I'm very sorry. I can't even take care of myself and haven't been, which also sucks and I'm very sorry

Landlords spontaneously raised rent on me more than halfway through this month as punishment for not getting to my house chores and not communicating, to be totally honest with you. I feel ashamed and awful about it but I didn't want to clean the place while multiple ppl living here had tested positive for COVID and kept walking around unmasked... I am not fully vaxxed because I've been too depressed to get any kind of necessary medical care done and I didn't want to catch COVID in the middle of my finals week for the semester. I woke up to being angrily and rudely bitched at first thing after the last of my finals (I passed at least). It wasn't a humanizing text. Fuck the mistreatment though. Rent is now almost doubled and it won't be lowered

There was no room for negotiation and I truly believe they've resorted to pricing me out of living here because the group of renters psychologically tormenting me wasn't effective (actually- putting a picture of my rapist on the fridge rly was super effective in getting me to isolate myself in my room all day and so was outing me as trans to the transphobic ass neighbors.... But I didn't and still don't have any place better to move out to, like the way they were hoping I would. Yes, I have looked and BEGGED btw)

I want out of here NOW, but I can't leave. I tried and had to come back because it was the best option. I can't afford to stay in a motel/hotel/BnB just to get away from them for a day or two during Christmas. I don't have any friends who I can spend the holiday with either. During the semester, I resorted to convincing classmates with keys to locked buildings to let me crash in them while they worked at night and I would leave before anybody showed up. Now that school is out, I can't do that. I don't have any family I can reach out to for support or friends who I can depend on for immediate help. I have been crying day in and day out for weeks. I have records of it posted throughout my blog. Literally crying for days on end. I'm being so fucking transparent

All that lump of text is to explain to whoever is out there, who might be listening and willing and able, to please consider helping me, if and ONLY IF able. I know times are tough and if you'd rather use your $ for other reasons or just don't have any to spare, don't sweat it and take care! 🫂

I've thought about what I could do for a long time and have helped myself how I can. It isn't enough. I've applied for so much assistance. Been approved and been sabotaged by my inhumane mom (who does not love me) via stealing my legal documents and letters and hiding them for months. My mind jumps to grim places but I'm clinging for dear life to whatever hope I have left that says things will get better. I wish I knew somebody with a business that I could work for. Part of me feels so fucking terrible for asking for help because I feel like a waste of all your resources. I feel like I shouldn't ask, like I really do not fucking deserve help, but there are friends online who care, who I know mentioned being interested in helping in whatever ways they can

So to the people who care to seriously me, I'm ready to accept it: please send me nice words to get through this and feel less alone. It feels pathetic to ask but I would love a nice letter. A nice card even. Kind words of any kind would go a long way. It means more to me than food. I have felt so broken and every day feels like a test to figure out how badly I actually want to live

I'm also leaving my cash app and paypal here in case anybody would like to do more than what I'm comfortable asking but probably very likely will inevitably need very very soon. I will be left with fucking nothing and I will have no idea what to do once rent is paid

Thank you to those of you who have sent love, offered to listen and heard me out. I really wish it wasn't so hard to survive. I'm trying to feel better knowing there are people out there who are also without help and hoping the best, but it doesn't make me feel any better or comforted tbh. I just wish the help was there for us. I wish there was a place to go for spare love, care, compassion, empathy, kindness, humanity, generosity... I need that more than I need $. Call me stupid but that's what I live for. I don't live for paying to survive in terrible conditions. I live for love and to smile with friends

I hope to write back to the friends who have already been so kind as to message me soon btw. I'm sorry for not replying sooner. Your overwhelming support is sincerely sweet and sometimes I cry because I can't believe people are so nice (to me???). It'll give me something to do that doesn't make me feel like dying! :') so thank you thank you thank you *fist bump*

Hope you're all doing as well as you can and that somehow things get better. Hope anybody else struggling like me doesn't make the mistake of isolating like a sick and dying animal. You deserve love. You deserve support. Don't be like me. Have the courage to reach out to the people who care about you for help as early on into your emergency as possible. Don't let your situation snowball because you spend so long trying to figure out if you're worth it!!! This Random Tumblr user is here to tell you that YOU ARE. Sending my infinite everlasting unconditional love. Be nice to yourselves. Be nice to each other. Fuck the hateful assholes who wish I would just kill myself already. Tell your friends you love them. Happy Holidays!!!

And here's a single picture of a mooning lawn gnome at the very end, as a treat! I told you this post wasn't full of it.... It just ended with it 👉👉