#bit spicy innit

[perfectly-clear-from-here]

trying to mentally cope with the fact that like in 2 weeks I'll be seeing miles in the flesh after he's literally been the sun that I've orbited around for an entire year and im failing absolutely miserably at it.

[nbmudkip]

i cant handle this i uploaded the last three at the same time. the tenor content moderators out here appreciating the homoeroticism of the hop in vc scene

[neutrallyobsessed]

Phoenix: you thief- Maya: aw, you say that because I stole your heart? Phoenix: no

but he still lets her tho xd

[th3d0nutl0rd]

New year same me. I mean actually no fuck that. I'm going to actively become worse. Good luck guys

[davidtennantpussytulpa]

id be lying if i didn’t say this rice was beating my ass a little

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 02)

Soap x Reader AU

Link to AO3

THE NEXT DAY

The Ettrick was the best pub in town, and you could smell the spicy blend of their famous curry halfway down the block. It was close enough to Pidge’s house to walk but far enough to be a bit of a trek, and so you were trailing behind her and Hamish as you made your way out to dinner. Hamish had called up some friends, and Pidge had done the same, for a little impromptu celebration party. You were not a fan of crowds, really, but you had promised yourself (in some small secret way) that you would be the best maid of honor there ever was for your best friend. If that meant partying down at the local bar, so be it. 

After bringing you and Pidge your morning coffees, Johnny had taken his Jeep and sped off somewhere, saying he “needed to clear his head.” But, even though he promised to show up to dinner tonight, you doubted he would show. Pidge had rolled her eyes and shrugged at you, expressing her doubt as well. 

You weren’t supposed to be worried about him though. You needed to focus on the goal: Pidge having fun. Be fun. She needed you to be fun. Smile, or something, c’mon. Your internal pep talks exhausted you, and you grew frustrated with yourself. Surely you could stand to be in a crowd for just an evening?

Lachlan Black, Hamish’s man of honor and college roommate, was already at the restaurant. You could tell because his lime green Aventador was parked out front, covering both the street and the sidewalk and shining like a penny. Stepping around it as carefully as you would a coiled snake, you squeezed past the car, making sure not to even breathe too roughly on it. 

When Hamish opened the door for you, you stepped inside to find Anjali, Bekah, and Cherise already waiting for Pidge, half-circled around Lachlan and Johnny like hungry birds - waiting to be fed more sweet nothings, you assumed. The three girls were Pidge’s friends from grammar school. They had grown up with Johnny and Pidge, and they knew them well, but they were not the most reliable bunch. If there was a party, they would turn up, but if you needed a ride to the airport, better call someone else. There was a reason none of them made the cut for maid of honor. 

“Pigeon!” Johnny shouted from his end of the bar. 

He had changed clothes, and he was in a half-open, rolled-sleeve button down with a pair of black canvas pants. Casual, but he looked like he was built to party. Lachlan, on the other hand, looked like he owned the party. You didn’t know what kind of fabric his clothes were made out of - probably something to do with baby alpacas - and he was shining all over. His high (surgery-induced?) cheekbones and bright blond hair made him look like a movie star, and the girls doted on him as if he was one. He had thrown an arm around Cherise, and she seemed perfectly content to be nestled there in his expensive armpit. 

Johnny hugged Pidge and shook Hamish’s hand. He didn’t know what to do to you, so he just leaned back against the bar and shoved his hands in his pockets, smiling at you and mouthing the ghost of a “hey.” You did the same, matching that awkward energy and immediately regretting it. 

“Hey, babes,” Lachlan smiled at you in a sort of sneer, “Aren’t you that bird from…New York?”

“Florida,” you corrected, tearing your eyes away from Johnny’s and looking hard at Hamish’s friend.

“Right, well,” he took a swig of his whisky, “All the same, innit?”

Hamish shook his hand, and then, he sort of pulled him off balance a bit to speak to him closer,

“No, mate, it isn’t.”

They laughed, but you could tell that Lachlan had been temporarily cowed. 

“Good to see you again,” Cherise kissed you in the French sort of way, the imaginary cheek smooches that you were supposed to have memorized when you crossed the pond. Did you lean left first or right?

“You, too, Cherise. Glad you could come,” you tried to be as friendly as you could, but Cherise was into her own ventures and there wasn’t much that could shake her from that. She was tucked back into Lachlan’s side, trying to return herself into his missing rib. If she just squeezed in close enough, maybe…

“Can I get you a drink, from one Of Honor to the next?” Lachlan showed you his teeth again. White. Straight. Sharp.

Before you could say a word, Johnny moved in front of him and held out an outstretched hand. He gave you a full whisky cocktail, complete with an orange rind on top - something Pidge already had a copy of - and shrugged,

“Sorry, mate. You can get the next one, yeah? Here ya go, bonnie.”

The way he looked at you was meant to be dismissive, or perhaps he hadn’t meant to look at you at all. Johnny barely glanced your way, pale irises hiding under thick, dark eyelashes that then quickly fixed themselves back down at the counter. But, the look in your eyes must have called him by his name, because he found himself caught in the snare of you. His gaze met yours in a second glance and studied your skin, your cheeks, your nose, and finally your mouth, covered in sticky gloss and glitter, shining under the warm glow of the bar. 

You watched him study you, his enormous Adam’s apple bobbing along his scruffy throat as he swallowed, and his face wore a mask of heightened uncertainty and… rejection? You couldn’t tell what emotion he was trying hard not to outwardly express. It was not a swoon, that was for sure. It looked as if he was concerned. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and you broke away from him, muttering a thanks for the drink. Staring down at your hands, suddenly feeling insecure, you became hyper-aware of everything he could have seen and had apparently found wanting. 

A soft hand grabbed you around the arm and pulled you in,

“C’mon,” Pidge said, “Let’s get a booth.”

You took a sip of your cocktail as you were dragged away by your friend, and the whisky stung you like a hornet. One of these would be enough to put you down, and Christ did you want to be put down. 

Seeing Johnny dressed like that had been enough to shake your determination, but his look of dismissal or distaste (or whatever it was) had shattered your self-esteem. To make matters worse, you couldn’t get away from him for a single second. He had given you a drink at the bar. He walked behind you as you moved deeper into the pub, and he slid around the slick pleather crescent of the booth seat, finally sandwiching you between him and his sister - the last nail in your coffin. You could smell his cologne, a musky, woodsy scent that mixed with his earthy citrus that you knew so well. You remembered the arch of his muscular shoulders as he squeezed himself into the seat, and you could almost taste his sweet breath on your tongue as he talked over you to his sister. If you were still in grade school, you thought about having to write: “I will not fuck my best friend’s brother” five hundred times on the chalkboard - or however many it took for it to sink in. How many sticks of chalk would turn to dust just to slake your forbidden thirst? 

You felt his huge thigh, warm and tight, press against your bare leg through his slacks. The thin cotton was a poor barrier, and all you could think about was the skin underneath it. Was it covered in dark coarse hair? Shaved smooth like a swimmer? Did it have black, inky tattoos or jagged scars? Sharing his heat was unimaginably difficult to deal with. Your body stirred, wondering why you were hiding your interest from him. Your traitorous heart was joyful like a bird with a juicy worm, expecting revelry and finding only cold, white-knuckled repression.

“A wee toast!” Johnny lifted his cup, smiling in that half-cocked way that he wore in all of his photos, “To Hammie and Pigeon; and whilst we thus should make our sorrows one, this happy harmony would make them none. Congratulations, sister. Slàinte mhath.”

“Slàinte mhath!” The tables’ voices rang out with proud approval. 

Pidge rolled her eyes, but she wore a sweet smile,

“Thank you, Johnny boy. That was not the toast I was expectin’ from you, you weapon.”

Johnny, who had been wearing an innocent grin, turned it into a cunning one that a wolf might wear,

“Ya mean, this one?”

“No, Johnny, don’t -” Pidge tried to pull him down, reaching over you to get at his arm.

He broke through her grip as if she was a petulant child, and stood, raising his glass and his voice so that the entire pub could enjoy his toast,

“Let’s drink our drop o’ barley bree,” boisterous cheering came from the older menfolk who recognized the rhyme, “Though moon and stars should blink tae’gether, to each leal lad wi’ kilted knee…” a pause for effect prompted raucous whistles and table-pounding, “and a bonnie lass among the heather!”

Loud, jeering applause filled the cozy room, and Hammie was being shoved by his mates, blushing like a nun. Pidge cut a sharp glare at her brother, red not for shame but for fraternal rage. 

You wanted to stick up for her, being stuck between them as you were. So, you put on a wry smile and raised your eyebrows to deliver your sarcasm,

“Wow, Sergeant, didn’t realize you were such a poet.”

While he was laughing and basking in the crude attention, he now paused and swiveled his head over to you, looking at you intentionally this time, and there was no second take. He laughed a little lower, and looked ruffled that you would challenge his poetic authority. He needed to save face, so he made quite a show of clearing his throat and settled himself nice and close to you before he said,

“Perhaps the bonnie lass would like to hear another?”

You noted his tone on the callback line, and you shrugged, feigning disinterest.

“Of that quality? No, thank you,” you tried to erase all traces of interest from your voice. 

He was not to be deterred. Johnny’s face turned serious, and he delivered the next lines as earnestly and without satire, taking your request to heart,

“We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go, always a little further. It may be beyond the last blue mountain barred with snow, across that angry or that glimmering sea…” 

When he stopped his performance, the applause and the cheering erupted again, praising him for his fancy delivery. Thinking he’d won your little challenge, he took a big sip of his own straight whisky and grinned like a cat who caught the mouse. You snuffed it out with the frigid precision only a graduate student would possess,

“White, on a throne, or guarded in a cave,” you enunciated as clearly as you could, matching his volume, and you watched as his pompous attitude was extinguished. He froze, just like a fox caught in a trap, staring at you with wonder. You continued, 

“There lives a prophet who can understand why men were born. But, surely we are brave…”

He said the last line with you, his face blank in disbelief and his voice almost a whisper,

“Who take the golden road to Samarkand.”

More cheering than before. You’d won. You borrowed his smug attitude and looked at him, sipping your drink as he did, pleased as punch. He looked wounded but blissfully happy about it. Everyone around you went back into their conversations, chittering and drinking and eating the appetizers that were waiting for you. But, Johnny kept you locked in his sights, staring back like he was seeing you again for the first time, just like when he thought you were a thief. You wondered what it was that you had stolen this time. His pride? The other bridesmaids’ admiration?

“You know Flecker?”

You nodded,

“I’m at Glasgow. Doing a bit of graduate work in poetry, actually. Shakespeare, to be specific.”

You tried to be casual about it. In truth, the “bit” of work was a mountain, and if you were being “specific”, you could talk for days and still not cover the details in full. But, normal people didn’t want to hear about that sort of thing. 

Johnny was about to say something with a wide grin on his lips, but it fell as soon as Lachlan interrupted from across the booth’s table,

“My father is an Emeritus at Glasgow. He’s hardly in residence, but he could help you get into the ARG, if I put in a good word.”

There it was again, that sharpness. You smiled genuinely, refusing to be unsettled by his intrusion and his mention of the invitation-only advanced research group, 

“I’m running my own research in the ARG now, actually. But, thank you. That’s very generous.”

Johnny was speechless for a moment, but there was something dark roiling around in him as he cut his eyes at Lachlan,

“Aye, mate. Very generous. Did you attend uni as well, or just your da?”

A cruel dig. Everyone knew that Lachlan hadn’t been accepted to his father’s own department. Johnny was dragging out the skeletons of his vast, walk-in closet, a dog with a bone. 

Lachlan Black was not one to be bullied, though, 

“I went on invitation to Oxford, actually. A full merit scholarship…”

Johnny wasn’t done playing with his food,

“Och! Of course. I've been forgetful lately. And what, uh…degree was it, then?”

Silent tension struck the table like a too-tight guitar string, ready to pop someone across the cheek. Lachlan was clearly rattled, but he recovered with ease. He took a sip of his nearly empty glass and rose as if to get a refill, reigning hellfire as he did so,

“I had already made my first million by the end of my starting year. So, I thought I’d leave the monastery to the monks, right boyo?”

Lachlan stayed standing over the table for a beat, making sure the dog he’d kicked stayed down. Johnny didn’t produce a comeback, but he was close enough to you that you could feel his body prepare itself to deliver one in a more physical format.

When Lachlan left the table, Cherise in tow, Pidge spoke across you again,

“Johnny! What’s gotten into you?”

Her brother rolled his eyes and didn’t answer. He turned his attention back to you, emboldened somehow even in defeat, 

“Another round, hen?”

He pointed to your glass, and you nodded,

“Sure, but let me get it. Pidge? Do you want another?”

“Yes! And tell them to bring two tequilas. My wee brother is driving me to drink.”

“I’ll help you carry ‘em back. C’mon, then,” Johnny held his hand out to help you out of the booth, and as you slid your fingers across his palm, he grabbed it with confidence.

He led you to the other side of the bar, as far from Lachlan as he could get, and let you place the order. You sat on the stool to wait and he stood beside you, one arm on the bar and one on the back of your chair, caging you in,

“So, Shakespeare, huh?”

“Yep,” you nodded, hesitating to elaborate. 

“You’re after his poems, I take it?” Johnny’s face looked like he was trying to piece together an impossible puzzle.

You sighed, steeling yourself for the ordeal of telling someone all about your project only for them to respond in the most milquetoast way. You told him,

“I’m trying to determine why Sonnet 145 has such an abnormal structure. Some scholars have even claimed that Shakespeare didn’t compose it. It’s the black sheep of the collection, and I am performing an analysis on its rhyme scheme and meter.”

“Do you know it by heart?” He asked, practically begging for a performance. 

“Here are your drinks, love. Tha’s twenty pound,” the barkeep stopped you from delivering your encore. 

You paid him and balanced the cups in your hand. Johnny took the majority of the burden and made his way back through the crowd with you trailing behind him.

“Ahh!” Pidge squealed with pleasure, “Shots! C’mon, babe. Show these nuggets how it’s done in America. This girl’s a real cowgirl, she is. Watch this.”

You grabbed the salt from the center of the table, shy and miffed at Pidge’s callout, and licked the meat of your thumb to wet it. You sprinkled the salt on it and reached for the lime. Then, you licked the salt, downed the shot, and sucked on the flesh of the fruit, keeping your face as straight as an arrow. Pidge clapped with joy. 

“Okay, me next.”

“That’s quite the process, cowgirl,” Hamish commented, admiring your shot-taking ritual.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that downtown Miami didn’t have any cows, but you just smiled, folding yourself back up into hiding in the booth. The conversations left you behind and your head began to swim from the alcohol. By the time everyone was ready for their next beverage, you were done. Pidge didn’t notice. She’d moved on to champagne and spritzers. You were alone in a crowded room again, as usual. 

“Hey, you feelin’ alright, bonnie?”

Johnny’s voice seemed too quiet for a loud bar. You smiled weakly, 

“Mmm. Just drank too much, I think.”

“C’mon. I’ll get you home.”

Before you could protest, he was helping you out of the booth and onto your feet. You heard Pidge shriek,

“Johnny! What did I say?!”

“Pigeon! Is that really what you think o’ me? Gonna tuck her in, and tha’s it. I’ll be right back.”

“I swear on Christ and -”

“Yeah, yeah, and all the actual saints. I heard you, you wee dafty. I promise. Not a hair on her head, yeah?”

“You can touch all the hairs on my head, Soap,” Bekah cackled, and the table laughed with her. 

Johnny laughed too, which felt like a knife twisting in your chest for some reason. You’d forgotten all about his nickname. Everyone except Pidge used it for him. You thought it was a callsign for the military, but you’d never had to call him anything, so you didn’t remember. But, Bekah did. She called him the right name. You had failed, obviously. Put it on my tab , you thought. You screamed it in your mind, punishing yourself for your mistake: Soap, Soap, Soap…

“C’mon,” he held you by the arm, “I’m out back.”

He loaded you into his Jeep and climbed into the driver’s side, adjusting the knobs for air and music. Some early aughts alt rock was blaring too loudly, and he cut it down, apologizing under his breath. His car smelled like cigarettes and beach sand. It was cleaner than it should’ve been. You felt too hot and too cold, and you wanted to sleep, so you did. 

You woke with a jolt after the short ride had ended, and he had you in his arms, nestled close to his chest. He felt you come to and he whispered, 

“Shh, lass. We’re almost in. Gonna get you some water and a paracetamol, and you’ll be right as rain in the mornin’.”

“God,” you groaned, “Soap, I’m so sorry. I didn’t really eat anything, and I -”

“Tha’s fine, hen. You’re alright. We’ve all been there, trust.”

He deposited you on his bed, pulling off your shoes and tucking you in. Then, he was gone and back in a flash of your semi-unconscious state. He handed you the pills and the water. It was cool in your hot mouth. 

“Here, lass. Take that for me. Tha’s it. Good girl.”

You groaned, feeling sick with drunken stupor and sick with drunken desire all at the same time. 

“And, hey,” he bent his face so he was eye-level with you as you lay back down, “Call me Johnny.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter 03

[just--some--prompts]

Sentence/Conversation Starters:

Random things my friends and I have said over the years on Discord

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

✦ — Person A: “Something on my face?” Person B: “Yeah it's called being too handsome, now stop it.”

✧ — "Two cups of chicken broth, two cups of heavy cream, and then add the lego's–"

✦ — Person A: -makes struggling noises- Person B: "Are you ok?" Person A: "Nope" Person B: "Ok then"

✧ — "Don't shoot me! I'm pleasantly thick!"

✦ — "You’re starting another cult. You bitch."

✧ — Person A: "I’m allergic to honey because I’m allergic to beeeeeeees." Person B: "That's… not how it works?"

✦ — "You were here, you were our side hoe!"

✧ — "The hetero's are upsetero."

✦ — "Why does he not have clothes!?"

✧ — Person A: "We're not clean in the eyes of God." Persona B: "You're not clean in the eyes of your bathtub. How can you be clean in the eyes of God?"

✦ — "Consent is hot when you're fucking my life"

✧ — Person A: "You tire me" Person B: "Then go to bed"

✦ — "You were so far in the closet you were finding Christmas presents from 4 years ago!"

✧ — "I want... to put a pop-tart in his mouth. Do you like smores'?"

✦ — "Life of crime? Naw. Life of shaking ass? Sure."

✧ — Person B: "You're the opposite of a friendly boy." Person A: "What's the opposite of a friendly boy?" Person B: "A bitch."

✦ — -takes a fighting stance- “I'm ready to bite yo ass"

✧ — "People not talking to me? Ideal."

✦ — "You are all a burden upon my shoulders"

✧ — Person C: “Ima eat yo fucking al dente ass ligaments u Italian deviant” Person B: “You're welcome to. End my meat lineage.”

✦ — "Lol, simping for some sleep"

✧ — "Cucked for a soft pillow"

✦ — "Get cucked consciousness"

✧ — Person A: -struggles to breathe- Person B: "Breathe" Person A: "Who needs air?" Person B: "You need air to survive." Person A: "Debatable…" Person B: ".......shut up"

✦ — "I like my men like I like my food...  Genetically modified."

✧ — “Bitch, you got crabs?”

✦ — Person A: “Suc-Fuck you!” Person B: “You were gonna say suck.” Person C: “You were gonna say suck,” -Person C leans in closer- “that’s kinda gay bro.”

✧ — Person A: "So what are y’all talkin about?" Person B: "Uh... we were talking about gender reveals but with spaghetti"

✦ — "It's a millennial thing innit? Eatin' ass?"

✧ — "I'd stuff my face with you."

✦ — “Screams in slut, what!?”

✧ — Persona A: “I’m not mad.” Person B: “Don’t lie.” Person A: “Shut your whore mouth!”

✦ — -hands slam down on table- "They’ve had sex together!!!!"

✧ — "Rip in shit, binch. Sloshed and forgotten."

✦ — “This is how I die. Tell people it was something cool and not spicy egg salad.”

✧ — Person B: "You don't eat your phalanges [Person A]. Rookie mistake."

✦ — "When the Campbell's chunky take chunk out of you."

✧ — "Excuse me, Ma'am, can you put down a wet floor sign? You're a bit of a hazard."

✦ — "My gamer arthritis is making it hard for me to hold my wife's hand"

✧ — "Is this roller camping? .............I'm gonna fuck your mom."

✦ — Person A: "I struggle with his emotions–" Person C: "So does he."

✧ — "I thought by ‘squirt’ you meant that the clowns had venom sacks."

✦ — "We learned our lesson, don't convert–"

✧ — "You fed me eggs, now the government can track my location!!!"

✦ — Person C: "Anyway, back to the topic at hand–" Person B: "God, I wish his throat was under my hand–what?"

[kuumara]

Yk as a member of the 15-16-17 year old community I'd like to make a comment on the "spicy byler" thing, that being that there's indeed nothing wrong with teens having sex and whatever because i know very well my peers do in fact do that and more, what ALL my peers would have a problem with however is creepy old people PRAYING that they get to see two people of our age jorking it or whatever

This isn't about people pointing out stuff IN THE STRANGER THINGS BYLER STORY that insinuate anything like that there's nothing wrong with just saying it could (will) happen, am just saying it's a bit weird when people publicly show how down bad they are for 2 teenagers doing allat and describing what they wish to happen. Iykwim right

Because listen, do u think it's alright for someone to talk about these under 18 year olds with a "minors dni" account on a "18+" post? Like the people ur talking ab couldn't even see ur post thats ABOUT THEM thats already a red flag innit

U can say im wrong or whatever but thats just how I feel AS A PERSON OF MIKE AND WILLS AGE (keep that in mind)

So yh THIS ISNT A ANTI-"SPICY BYLER" POST theres just people taking it a bit far and they just happen to use that tag IM ALSO NOT CALLING THESE PPL PEDOS im just sayin man. Don't send hitmen to my house🙏

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Six.

Are things about to get spicy for our troubled pair? Hmm. Maybe... ;)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,367

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

She could feel her lips starting to throb from the kiss they’d entered what must have been minutes ago, yet to actually part from, her fingernails softly circling at the nape of his neck. Ella truly couldn’t remember a single other moment recently where she’d felt so happy, having the bloke she knew she’d begun to like more than a friend show her that yes, he felt just the same as she did. Until he suddenly pulled away with a groan. 

“Sorry, babe. Gotta stop for a minute, or I’ll do something stupid,” he lamented, arms still around her.  

“Like what?” 

He chuckled, low and dirty, shaking his head as he closed his eyes tightly. “Like drag you to a dark corner somewhere and start taking your clothes off.” 

“James!” She was a little aghast, but only because she liked his forwardness.  

“What?” he barked, laughter continuing. “I’m a bloke, we have a turn on speed of about four seconds!”  

Hugging him tightly, she suddenly fully understood what he meant. Oooh. “Oh, right. Yeah. Something came up to say hello.” 

“Innit.” 

She threw her head back, softly thumping his chest with her fist. “Do you want to go for a walk, calm down a bit?” 

“As much as I can walk with a raging hard-on, yeah.”  

“Cool beans, come on.” Turning back, they walked around to the main path that led through the middle of the grounds, James taking her hand in his, feeling a little sparkle within that hadn’t existed prior to kissing her.  

“So, little. Do you believe me now? Cos’ you’ve gotta stop letting what shitty people said about you years ago affect the way you see yourself and all that. Dickheads, the lot of ‘em.”  

His words matched everyone else’s there. “I know I do. I know. it’s so difficult for me to get that through my head, though. Skin and bones aren’t an achievement over them. I worked that one out with Dr. Beaumont the other day. I don’t like, get any prizes for being so thin, it isn’t shoving their noses in what they used to say about me, because they aren’t even in my life any longer.” 

“Yet you still fear the mashed potatoes,” he chirped, watching her cringe and giving her hand a little squeeze. “When we get out of here, come round mine and if Snedders is still living there, I’ll get him to make you some. Fuck knows what the fella does with ‘em, but they taste amazing. He’s a flid, but shitting hell, the lad can cook.” 

The mention of the scary food was diminished slightly by his statement, that in his mind, he wanted to have contact with her on the outside. That showed thinking ahead, and the thought of it made her beam. For James, though, he kicked himself. While he knew he’d love that future, a life away from the facility with her in it, he didn’t know if he was capable of promising it to her.  

The last thing he wanted was to hurt the adorable little soul he’d begun to find himself becoming very much attached to.  

Coming to a stop beneath one of the large oak trees stretching tall into the sky, he sat with his back to the trunk, Ella making herself comfortable between his long legs as she rested against his chest.  

“Can I make a request?” 

“You can,” he confirmed. 

“More kisses, please?” 

Oh, she’d kill him with that cuteness. Who was he to say no to that, and the sweet little face the statement came with? He could have tried harder to engage his more rational thoughts as he leaned to press his lips to hers, but not doing so felt much too good.  

She felt dreamy as her tongue swirled softly with his, noting to herself again what an amazing kisser he was. Sensual, she guessed she’d describe it, no clashing of teeth or experiencing the back of her mouth being infiltrated by an overly keen tongue. James definitely knew what he was doing.  

It certainly made her wonder how good his tongue would feel on her... ooh. Reverse that thought. That was a little too much when there was nowhere she could sneak off with him and comfortably experience it. It also brought with it issues that were scary, having somebody see her naked. No, kissing would suffice for that moment, her hand rooting in his masses of silky, black hair, the other resting where his hand lay just beneath her ribcage.  

Again, they lost themselves to it, but predictably for him, the negative thoughts began to creep in. At least they kept the physical manifestation of his desire for her in check, James knowing that he they didn’t, he’d likely have flattened her to the grass and taken things much further than just kissing. Then again, the presence of orderlies touring the grounds every so often also nipped that in the bud.  

“Your heart's beating really quick," she spoke, pulling away, moving her mouth to kiss the side of his neck.  

“Are you surprised?” he exclaimed, leaning to her. “Getting me all sexually vexed, innit. Trust me, if we were at my place right now, I’d be carrying you over my shoulder to bed.” 

“Don’t even say it!” she whined, closing her eyes painedly. “I haven’t had a shag in such a long, long time!” 

“How long’s a long, long time?” 

Her wincing continued. “Trust me, feels like it was in the Stoneage. I am not a happy camper about it either. It’s big time embarrassing.” 

“No need to be. Mine’s been a while. Five months, or thereabouts.” 

Immediately, she hid her face behind her hands. “Mine is way longer. Like, a year and a bit longer.” 

His eyebrows almost vanished into his hairline. “You fucking what? Over a year? Shitting hell.” 

“Yeah," she snorted, “gagging for it doesn’t really come close, now I’m a bit healthier and actually have a sex drive again. And now I have the attention of a man who looks like you, and kisses like you do, too. Made me feel all hot in my pants, you have.” 

He groaned, hiding his face against his shoulder for a moment. “Don’t tell me things like that. Fuck, I’m having enough trouble trying to stop myself from diving on you as it is. Then there’s the whole scared of breaking you issue. Because I think I would, innit.”  

She shouldn’t say it, and she knew she shouldn’t. “Getting you between my legs would be more than worth it. Too bleedin’ sexy for your own good.” Turning, she moved to sit astride him, having a quick glance around for any patrolling orderlies. None were seen. Turning back to him, her mouth pressed to his, the heat of the kiss swirling like a summer tempest.  

She could feel her arousal dampening the fear of his hands beginning to explore, roaming beneath her top, fingers curling up to stroke at the tiny curve of what little in the way of breasts she had left. When he pinched at her nipples gently, the mewled gasp it pulled from her set his blood to burn, beginning to lift her top. Immediately, she halted his hands. 

“No, please don’t. I don’t want you to see me underneath it.” 

Seeing the panic in her eyes at the idea of being seen so closely, he nodded, stroking her face. After all, she wore long tops and baggy clothes for a reason.  

“I’m sorry, but I just... I can’t even have sex without my top on. I hate being seen, and I’m not saying we’re about to do that...” 

He silenced her babbling with his mouth pressing to hers. “Ella, it’s fine. All in your own time, babe.”  

Their kissing resumed, his hands gently stroking her hardened nipples through her top rather than beneath it, feeling her relax, a breathy sigh fluttering from her mouth into his. Thier tryst began to gain heat, her body yearning for more, not stopping him when one hand slipped down to begin unbuttoning her trousers.  

It was a brave move, to allow somebody to touch a body she detested so intimately, the payoff more than worth it when his fingers sank into the warm, honey wet of her folds, James groaning as he kissed her with blinding lust. Guitarists had dexterity in shades, and she knew this, but the way he touched her was something else. Long fingers stroked a heavenly aurora over her clit, dipping inside, rotating until she clenched around them, pulling back to continue rubbing over her bundle until he had her crying out.  

“Shhh, or you’ll alert the gestapo,” he rasped, mouth at her neck, her hands rooting into his hair as her hips swayed against his hand.  

“Yeah... something about me... I’m... fuck, I’m not quiet when I’m about to... ahhhh!” Come, she would have said, but the way her eyes virtually rolled back in her head as her body stiffened, he could guess that for himself.  

“Shitting hell, darlin’. That was quick!” he laughed, kissing her, his fingers gentling before he pulled his hand away. “I know I’m good, but really?” 

“What can I say that I haven’t already?” she panted, her eyes swimming with desire, her cheeks flushed rosy. “Told you it had been a while.” Tickling his lips with her tongue, she squeaked when he bit it softly, kissing her way to the side of his throat while her hands reached for his jeans. “Mmm, your turn now.” 

Sadly for James, though, it wasn’t. 

“Ella! James! I see you down there.” Both shared an annoyed groan for hearing Chris call to them from the path. “Unstick yourselves from one another, please. Let’s keep this PG and not broaching on an eighteen!”  

“To use one of your favourite phrases, not cool beans,” he grumbled, Ella fastening her trousers again before they stood up, both looking to where the orderly stood and made sure nothing else was about to occur beneath the tree. “And now that’s twice I’ve had to try and walk off a hard-on in the past half an hour. Fucks sake.”  

“I’m sorry, sexy,” she purred, grabbing his hand, James releasing it to wrap an arm around her instead. “I’ll ask Andrea for her hiding places and drag you off there soon.”  

He grinned. “Can you ask her in the next ten minutes?” 

“As much as I want to, I think we’ll have to wait until the gestapo won’t be onto us for going off to do exactly that.”  

“Fucking hate that we’re watched like kids when we’re grown adults. This place can full on suck my fucking dick.” In truth, now his brain wasn’t so clouded by the swirling storm of arousal, it was likely better they parted when they did. He knew himself, after all. If gone too far on arousal, he likely would have pulled her trousers off and had sex right there with her against the tree.  

His thoughts and emotions, he needed to bring them to order. He had to regain a little control in a situation that no matter how good it felt, needed processing in line with what was best for them both and their recovery. They sat together for the rest of the afternoon and evening in the common room, until it was closed at 10pm, both returning to their rooms for the night.  

While lying on his bed, he began to think about it all, what had begun to happen between him and Ella. He wanted it to, there was no mistaking that. Unfortunately, it clashed with the uncomfortable truth of whether he should. If one good thing had come from therapy sessions, it was knowing that burdening himself with extra worries on top of attempting to get well again – which at any given moment he either did or didn’t want - were not conducive to his overall mental wellbeing.  

Keeping away from his little shining light of solace was another matter entirely, though. 

“Seriously, you took these?”  

Combing her hair from her face, she nodded, feeling a spark flare in her chest. Ella seldom showed her photography to people, but had a little book there with her at the facility, something the staff felt beneficial to her recovery. It was an incentive to get back out there again with her camera, although she didn’t have that there with her. All she had access to was the sight of other people’s pain, which she didn’t feel was a particularly good photographic subject.  

“Yeah, yeah these couple are from Draycote Water, those two are Great Central Walk,” she began. 

“I recognise the bridge, yeah! We did a band photoshoot up there,” he enthused, studying her work a little closer, flicking through to the next page. “Is that Caldecott Park?” 

“It is, yes! It’s like, a two-minute walk from my mum’s house, so I used to be there all the time, clicking away.” On the outside, they didn’t live far from each other at all, Ella in Rugby and him in Nuneaton. It took about twelve minutes via train. “The next few are from when I took a camera to the Global Gathering rave in Long Marston, so lots of people absolutely off their faces on E’s.” 

“You into all that, then, the ecstasy culture?” 

“Yep, I like it every so often, dropping a pill and then dancing in euphoria for about five hours. Well, I did. I think I might have outgrown it a bit now at twenty-two,” she revealed, closing her eyes for a moment and remembering it. She missed it, the pounding beat of dance music charging over her body as a dose of MDMA floated through her nerves and made her feel nothing but bliss.  

“I’ve tried it a few times, but it don’t wanna make me dance,” he spoke, chuckling as he remembered the last time he’d dropped a pill. “Goes right to my fucking dick, innit. I come up and I just wanna shag for hours on end. Nearly put a new hole in my ex, poor bird couldn’t walk properly for a few days.”  

“Lucky her,” she winked. 

He snorted softly, turning the page. “She probably wouldn’t have agreed with you afterwards, fucking whinging her tits off that she felt like her fanny was gonna fall out.” 

His words prompted her to practically scream with laughter, another who was close by not quite as entertained by his statement as Ella was.  

“Can we keep all talk of fanny-destroying shagging to a minimum, please?” Andrea requested, lowering the magazine she was engrossed in. “This is not good for my recovery.” And that was why she permanently had her nose in a magazine. Reading meant she could stop thinking about sex for longer than a few minutes.  

Ella winced, realising. “Sorry, sweetie.” 

James couldn’t help himself. “Steve sends his regards.” 

A shudder rippled her as she remembered the man with the chocolate brown eyes, and piercings in his lip and tongue that had felt very pleasurable when she’d kissed him. She took a deep breath, ignoring the soft laughter of her two cohorts. “And I am counting to ten, I am not thinking about sitting on that pretty man’s face, I am not thinking about going to town on his dick, I am counting to ten and reminding myself that healthy sexual desires are better than obsessive compulsions.”  

“Steve really wouldn’t mind if you had an obsessive compulsion about him.” 

He received an elbow from Ella for that. “Behave!” 

“Thank you, Ella,” Andrea spoke, cracking one eye open a fraction and giving the middle finger to James. He only continued to look pleased with himself. “Bloody church burner and your yap.” 

“Oi, only she’s allowed to call me that!”  

She bobbed her tongue at him, going back to her calming thoughts, clearing her mind of his best friend while he and Ella continued chatting. They only parted for the rest of the day at dinner, heading back to one another in the common room, sitting apart until the orderly's swapped shifts, Gus coming in to oversee. He shook his head with a soft laugh as soon as Ella moved to plant herself on James’s lap for a cuddle while they watched TV.  

While it was true that relationships between patients were heavily discouraged, he couldn’t discount that the pair seemed a lot brighter while around one another. He also counted anything that kept James calm and not running his mouth as a plus, too.  

By 9pm, it was just the two of them there, Gus in the corner reading a newspaper, Ella cuddled with her head beneath James’s chin as she enjoyed the feel of him stroking her thigh.  

Feeling her lips suddenly press his neck, he raised his eyebrow while looking down upon her. “Calm yourself, little.” 

“I am calm,” she chirped, kissing his cheek, her dainty fingers circling the centre of his chest. “Just thinking how lovely you are.” 

He pressed a long kiss to her forehead, closing his eyes, the soft, fresh scent of her daisy body spray lingering under his nose. She had a habit of spritzing wildly. His thoughts began to gnaw at him once more, having to admit it to himself. He’d been falling for her for weeks, and while in any other circumstance that would have been positive, the timing was just so, so wrong.  

She shouldn’t be his primary focus, yet he felt her definitely shifting into the forefront of his thoughts. Ella, his sweet little ray of sunshine, the girl who made the experience of being locked away in a mental health facility all the more bearable by just being who she was.  

He had her to consider in all of this, too. 

She was becoming just as attached to him, anybody with eyes could see that clearly, and it panicked him, what that would mean for her own recovery. How would she take it, for him to be so keen one moment and then cool things with her the next? She was far from an even keel with her eating disorder, but risking her suffering a setback to the progress she had made was something he steadfastly did not want to do.  

“Come on then, lovebirds,” Gus spoke, closing his paper, “time to say goodnight.”  

Lovebirds. Quite apt, if James chose to admit it, but doing so made his thoughts race unpleasantly.  

“See you tomorrow then, BFG,” Ella spoke, pecking his cheek and hugging him close before they parted ways, noticing the hug she received back wasn’t quite to his usual standard. 

“Yeah, darlin’. Sleep well.”  

Kissing her head, he stroked her face with his thumbs before turning to head for the stairs, the usual noise from the more rambunctious and unsound of the male patients meeting him as he walked back onto the ward. Big Keith was on form again, so he could hear. 

Once in his room, he let his clothes fall to the floor, climbing into bed and staring up at the ceiling, trying to zone out. If only his thoughts would let him. He was stuck, he knew it now, stuck between what he wanted to do and what he should. The former was the continuation of pursuing what he had with Ella, and the latter, well, calling it off altogether for that time at least. He couldn’t discount the happiness she brought him, but at what cost? 

His moods were evening out much more, he felt better than he had in a long time and he knew she was the reason for that. He also knew that while the very dark thoughts he had still plagued him, the desire to chase death too in his moments of hopelessness, he did not want to put her through that.  

He wouldn’t put her through that. Not with his head still such a mess. 

Lying there alone, with only his rapidly firing brain for company, he felt the darkness pulling at him once more. The void within called out its siren’s song, and for the first time in weeks, he let himself hear it all over again. 

This couldn’t continue.  

[simplepotatofarmer]

What do you think is the worse C!Tommy take? Like he’s a good example to me as a good character who suffers in the fandom from Woobification and being hated on for making mistakes (especially by toxic inniters) and I’m just wondering what do you think it’s like the worst take in your opinion, that misunderstood his character the most?

(and just to make it a bit more challenging and fun it doesn’t have to be related to Techno or even Dream if you want to get a bit spicy.) You don’t have to do that, but it’s just a little challenge if you want

oh man.

well.

i think the worst take is that c!tommy had healthy relationships.

and this isn't to say that all his relationships were bad, just that there was a lot of things that made them unhealthy. especially his relationship with c!wilbur. the idea that those two had anything like a 'healthy' relationship is genuinely probably the worst take for me.

which, again, isn't hate towards either of them nor is it to say wilbur didn't care about tommy, just that it was a relationship that, in the end, hurt tommy a lot.

and it was kinda the same with all his relationships, including c!tubbo, but he was also a teenager that wasn't exactly having the best time of things so what were we expecting, y'know? i just think it's more interesting to see the flaws in relationships than to smooth away the rough edges.

[silent-raven13]

Things about Smartphones

(Miles and Hobie are dating, Miles 17 and Hobie is 18.)

Gwen got her smartphone out with Pavtri taking selfies. "We look so hot." Gwen giggles.

Pavtri giggles being on his Smartphone, "For real."

Hobie sat between them getting photos from left and right from these advance technology. His eyes squint at the filters being a completely different person, "Oi, innit a bit weird to have that on? My lips always been lip and they made it so weird."

"They're called duck lips, Hobie." Gwen did the famous duck lip pouts, "A lot of girls in my world have silicone fillers to get this look."

"My world too!" Pavtri did the pose too as he got a photo.

"Ugh," Hobie scowls, "Body dysmorphia must be a popular thing then! That's how the industry gets to you. You hater yer'self and spend a bit of money for it."

"It's fun, Hobie. Look! See no lips filter!" Gwen laughs at the filter where Hobie's lips went super small making him look freaky.

Pavtri broke down laughing, "Ew, that's so weird! Oh my gawd, my lips! Ah, that's so weird!" He saw himself with the filter.

Hobie let out a low chuckle, "These mini tellies."

Then, Pavtri's smartphone ding, he got a text from his girlfriend. "Oh that's my beloved Gayatri!" He opens it then his face went red, quickly hiding the screen on his Smartphone in his chest. "Ohh!"

"What?" Gwen asked.

Hobie arched his eyebrow, "What did she send, bruv?"

"Um... nuthin'..." Pavtri's brown skinned slowly turning bright red, his face heating up.

"Ohhhh! I see," The blond teenager girl giggles with delight, "She sext you, huh?"

Hobie looks confused, "Huh?" Sexting, what is that? He knows what sex is but Sexting? The look on Gwendy's face, it had to be something dirty.

"Sexting, Hobie. Pav's girl probably send some nudes to him by the looks of it. Right?" She giggles having to playfully pat the Indian Spider-man's wide back. "Are you gonna send her one? You know, the rule of thumb!"

"Umm... I have to use the restroom!" He quickly got up being stiff as a board, "I'll be back soon."

This causes Gwen to burst out laughing out loud, "Oh man, my stomach!" She wraps her arms around her stomach having to hug the pain, "Hahaha, Pavtri is so gonna try to send her a dick pic."

"What-what?" Hobie asked being so confused about this. "Gwendy, darling... what is sexting?"

"Ohh," She wipe a tear away from her eyes, then blinks a couple of times, "That's right! You don't know! Miles never told you." He shook his head no.

"Oh. Alright, um... sexting is when a couple sent photos of suggestive photos of themselves... like nude pics."

"And that's sexting? Nude pictures?"

"Yeah, so for example Pav's girlfriend sent him a suggestive photo of her- I dunno anything sexy or a picture of her privates- It could be anything to be honest! Sexy poses, or boob pics or wearing lingerie." Gwen went on, "Anyway, same thing goes for guys. You send dick pics on your smartphone to the person your with- it's to keep the relationship spicy. A lot of teenagers in our world do it, but adults do it too. It's pretty normal stuff."

"And the rule of thumb?" Hobie asked.

"Oh normally when you send nudes to your partner, the partner that receives it have to send one within minutes. It shows you care and evens it out. I'm surprise Miles never told you this."

"No, I never heard of it, but now, I know." A sly smirk spread across his face.

Huh oh... looks like Gwen unleashed a very devious thought for the punker.

Miles was relaxing up high on the building after patrolling his city, then his phone was vibrating like crazy. "What the?" He took out his Smartphone while eating a Jamaican patty to have something in his stomach. His mask rolled up showing his lower face.

He unlock his phone the next thing he knows, he choked on his snack from the dick pic his boyfriend send him.

Hobie: Hey, Sunflower. Guess what I found out today 😈🫣😏

-Hobie sends multiple pics of his dick and nudes-

Miles coughing up the pieces of Jamaican patty, his hand almost let his phone fell until he quickly caught it. His face heated, lips nervously pressed, is he blushing? These photos got him turning mad bashful.

Miles: HOBIE! Who told you about sexting? 😭😭😭😭

Hobie: Gwendy! 🤭 Why u didn't tell me about this? Now, where's my pic? 🧐

Miles mentally cursed at Gwen. One of the reasons he didn't tell his man about sexting his punker plays too much. He always do the most, and seeing how he got over twenty pictures of nude, his boyfriend won't stop now.

Miles: What pic?

Hobie: Your supposed to send me some! Gwendy said it's the rulezz

Miles: Since when you believe in RULES!?!?!?!

Hobie: 😰 but luv.... 😭 where's me pics?

Miles bites his bottom lip, he can't be sending dick pics, now! He's Spider-man!

Miles: Bae, i promise, later. Right now, I'm busy.

Hobie: 😭

Miles: You caught me at a bad time.

Hobie: Then, I'll send you more! You owe me 20.

Miles: 20? You're wildin' Hobie. I'ma send you one picture!

Hobie: Y 🥺 u don't love me?

Miles: 🥹 this is my first time doing this.

Hobie: 😲 Oh! Then I'll be fine with one nude pic, luv. I wanna see your beautiful body.

Miles feels his face being flustered: Okay, bae. Tonight I'll send you one.

Hobie: 🥰😘 can't wait luv!

Later that night, Miles stood in the mirror in his room to look at his outfit. He had on Hobie's battle vest wearing a Looney Tunes boxer shorts, being shirtless. He nervously took his photo making a basic selfie stance.

Miles sends the pic: Hope you like it. I'm not comfortable with sending nudes, yet. Is it okay if you can wait for me?

Miles set his phone down while laying on his bed. Now, he waits for his boyfriend's response.

Earth 138B

Hobie came from his bathroom brushing his teeth, he saw his multiverse Smartphone light up on a new message. "Oh?" He muffles through brushed his teeth, the toothbrush right on his tongue. He wore pajama pants while being shirtless showing off tattoos and his piercings: one belly button piercing, two nipple piercings, and dermal back piercings.

His thumb swipes to unlock his Smartphone- Hobie chokes on the foaming tooth paste having his whole body froze into typewriter errors, newspaper warnings and so much texts being distorted while turning bright pink like a light up lamp. He quickly washes his mouth before he went to his room to look back at the photo his Sunflower sent.

His beautiful Sunflower wearing his battle vest jacket being shirtless, and loose boxer shorts. He never looked so cute to him. His hand cover his mouth being so flustered he needed to hide his shy smile. "So adorable." He mutters.

What takes the cake, his sweet Sunflower told him he wasn't ready for full nudes. This made Hobie even more in love with him. The thought of Miles asking him to wait for him! Ugh, that means their relationship will last longer and it made him more hopefully for the future.

Back on Earth1610

Miles saw a massive portal opening up from his ceiling and Hobie dropped down to snuggle against him. "You cheeky, lil minx!: He playfully kisses his Sunflower' neck and blew raspberries into his neck.

"HAhaha! Hobie, bae! What did I do?" Being in shock by his punker's actions.

"You sent a naughty pic!" Hobie kisses him. Miles let out a cute giggle letting his boyfriend get on top of him as they make out.

[80pairsofcrocs]

2022 || fic recs

these are most of my favorite fics from 2022!! please check some out, because these people are extremely talented

some of these people are my mutuals, where others are people i’ve never even spoken to in my life, but that doesn’t change anything so enjoy!

some may be smut too so MDNI

(all fics marked as ongoing are ongoing as of before 2023)

~~~

MARVEL

moon knight

Transitions - by @yikesitskennawrites - one of my favorite platonic moon knight series by my bestie (ongoing)

One Fin Wonder - by @m4xedout - another favorite of mine by my other bestie :) (ongoing)

Limitless - by @missdictatorme - the power this series has over me>> (ongiong)

Also literally all of the oneshots by @missdictatorme - i love them all sm i cant-

The Shape of You-niverse - by @bit-dodgy-innit - i’ve been reading these as they come out and let me tell you, they are so well thought out and i absolutely love the concepts for each chapter. 10/10 smut too

spiderman/peter parker

Sugar and Vice - by @liz-allyn - its a mob!peter!! i love this series so far, im always checking the page to see if a new chapter is posted lol hope it gets spicy soon (ongoing) TASM!PETER

That one drunk peter drabble by @luveline posted back in april - always love seeing that one :) TASM!PETER

Flexible - oneshot by @spidernerdsblog - made me laugh so hard like deadass TASM!PETER

Ridiculous - Extremely Ridiculous - two-part smutshots by @peterthepark - i love blonde frat peter sm TASM!PETER

~~~

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

(these are only Five fics lol)

Of Starlight - And Dusk - To Nightfall - following the three seasons is this series by @dumdumsun - ive been loving this series for a long time now, cant wait to see how it ends (third season ongoing)

Timeless - by @fiveisnumber1 - ive only read one chapter so far and im already invested (ongoing)

anything tua by @supercoffeeblogs - absolutely adore everything you write

Sshh - by @cxlynv - its smut. thats it. thats the description. it made my insides tingle

Retired - by @justasimp1 - its more smut and i love it.

I Dont Need a Partner - by @lady-ashfade - i love wanda!y/n so much and i love five and the readers relationship in this one

Venom - by @rcksmith - yay more smut but it actually has a plot!

~~~

thank you for reading, and hope to enjoy 2023 with all of you :)

[dameronscopilot]

DEEEEEEEEE OK TWO THINGS:

I tnink we saw The Sign on the same night?

I'm still in real-life-writing and work land and I need some spiciness to keep me going!

So... speaking of 🍑 I've been missing our Santi. What if he's away on a job and gives you a ring (and Benny too?) to tell you just *how much* he misses you in the most vivid detail possible? 😏

Luh u

💋 @bit-dodgy-innit

EV, MY LOVE! DID WE!? did you go on the 18th!? i'm going to yell if we unknowingly experienced that in the same room together xo.

-

benny miller x f!reader x santiago garcia

18+ — established poly relationship, phone sex, masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v

"Ben, stop for a second."

A dismal groan of frustration leaves your mouth as the two fingers Benny has lodged in your cunt still, his thumb pausing in its ministrations across your throbbing bud.

"Santi," you grit out warningly, glaring down at the phone sitting beside you on the bed.

He chuckles, and though the sound is slightly tinny and he's thousands of miles across the globe, it sends a familiar warmth seeping into the pit of your gut all the same.

"C'mon, Pope," Benny pleads, sounding more than a little wrecked from where he's kneeling behind you while you're on all fours for him, one hand splayed across the small of your back.

"How wet is she?" Santi asks calmly.

"Fuckin' soaked," Benny groans, unconsciously crooking a finger deep inside of you, dragging a bitten off whimper out of you.

"Ben," Santiago chides, well aware he'd disobeyed his prior instructions. "Show her how wet she is."

You huff in frustration as your cunt emptily clenches around nothing when he pulls his fingers out of you, only to moan when Benny folds himself over your body and slides his fingers into your mouth.

Santiago could use video chat to watch this while it's happening, but there's something he loves about doing it this way—sitting in a dingy motel room chair with his head thrown back, eyes closed, hand tightly wrapped around his cock as he listens to the wet, sloppy sounds of you sucking your own arousal off of Benny's fingers, the deep, rough sounds of Benny's praise as he tells you what a good girl you are.

"Ready for Benny to fuck you?" Santi asks, voice wavering slightly.

You can hear it—the sound of the chair legs scuffing against the floor as Santi fucks up into his spit-soaked fist on the other end of the phone.

"Are you touching yourself, Santi?" you coyly ask, collapsing forward slightly at the sudden feeling of Benny's cock sliding against your slick folds.

"Yeah, baby. I am," he breathes out. "And you better fill her up, Ben. Send me a picture after."

▸more appeteasers 🍑

[tokkiwrites]

thank u so much for the tag @beefrobeefcal 🫶🏻🫶🏻

tokki's ꒰ ୨♡୧ ꒱ ׂ  this or that ...

coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla |spring or fall |silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet| london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert |mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party

NPT 𔓕 @h4untedsp3ctor @heavenlytouches @casispunk @joelmillerisapunk @steven-grants-world @bit-dodgy-innit

[sethdomain]

want my shipping takes that ill still probably get hanged for??? here we go. theyre basically all "everyone chill out" ...it seems like most people are just submitting ships theyd get cancelled for, not takes on shipping. ill do that after in case i completely misread what you were asking for

if ccbeeduo didnt want to get shipped they shouldnt have made their characters get married and have a son and fall in love. natural byproduct, really shouldve expected it. i still think ppl should have chilled fr but like, they both had plenty of examples of what fans were like, they shouldve taken that into account before making those character decisions.

cdapduo discourse was absolutely batshit insane and everyone who posted with a banner saying either "slime is quackity's son and if you ship them you're weird DNI" OR "they keep flirting, if you call slime quackity's son you're weird DNI" pissed me off. how about no one's weird because actually its a roleplay with lots of different perspectives and you can do whatever you want forever . obvs i understood people who were like "i believe this thing, dont fucking yell at me for it" but it sucks that people had to make banners for that fr.

in the same vein, the discourse with emeraldduo. though that one i dont/didnt see as much, i did still see those same banners. even as a family sbi fan, i never saw someone shipping emduo and thought "yeah let me go yell at them and tell them not to interact with me because i personally think theyre family-coded." the devotion is ambiguous but powerful.

Heat Waves was the funniest fic ive ever read because idgaf about either of those guys so it was just like 20 chapters of some guy crying and jacking off and then getting rejected.

i think rarepairs are based as fuck and mischaracterizing guys to fit your ship is fine do whatever you want forever!!!!!!!! people complained to hell and back about fanfics tagging characters and ships and them being ooc . WHO GIVE A FUCK THEY WROTE THAT SHIT FOR FREEEEEEEEE!!!!!! ALSO MANGOBALL'S MONSTER/CHEATER CHEATER WAS A MASTERPIECE

karlnapity was not perfect polyamory i see people glossing over the fact that when they first talked about polyamory quackity started attacking and biting when karl and sapnap kissed and thats fucking FUNNY i want to see more of THAT.

sorry for writing so much i have a lot of opinions

JESUS ANON, honestly idgaf bro i take any spicy opinion as long as its not going straight to 'i love pedophilia/incest' territory that my only rule man

For beeduo, idk if u mean the cc ship or the c ship cause honest to god i was a huge inniter back then and dont follow their stuff closelt that much, but im just gonna assume u mean the rpf cc shipping. Honestly, I don't really agree with ur take, its a bit victim blamey, both ranboo and tubbo were like young and in their naivety expect their fans to uphold their boundary to just not ship them in a rpf way and i think you should've respected their wishes man. You sometimes gotta be reminded that dsmp was just them guys having fun and if they want to rp as a husband then whatev man :p

I agree bruh, i think people were just sscared of a little doomed faggot in action

phil and techno doesn't even act like father/son in the dsmp canon anyway, they act like old bestie

imma be fr idgaf abt heatwaves but that sound awesome

sometime the back of my mind say that, but the evil demon that wants everything to be perfect take over anon.. its hard... I need to get mad at people...

no cucking is allowed in karlnapity... #lame

[darkeraurora]

Admissions - Chapter 1

Trigger warning for implied SA. No details, just mentions.

Part of a much larger story I'm working on. It starts in sort of the middle of that story, so it might not make sense at first but stick with it and it will. Also it's a slow burn, but stay with it and it gets spicy.

Minors DNI with any of my work please.

Another barrage of bare-knuckle punches. Sweat poured down his face under the balaclava, his shirt completely drenched. Bruised knuckles screamed for him to stop, or at least give it a rest for a few minutes, but Simon ignored the pain and kept punching. The smothering feeling pervading his mind and crushing his chest wouldn’t allow him any reprieve.

He felt disgusting.

Every time – every fucking time – he was near her the pressure in his chest increased and the most indecent thoughts flooded his mind. The things he wanted to do, that he longed for – fuck, even things he’d never even thought of in his entire miserable existence, especially not since...

Now Ghost abhorred even the notion of another person's touch. The thought alone made his stomach roil and bile rise into his throat as memories came to the surface. The thought of her touching him was both intoxicating and terrifying. But god how he wanted it. Would welcome it gladly even. A part of him honestly felt that he could die a happy man if he could feel her soft skin just once. 

Just to touch her once…

Yet he couldn’t.

So gorgeous, so perfect, so… so everything he was not. She didn’t deserve the likes of him. Someone so broken, damaged, scarred. Weak. Tainted.

… Used.

What happened... what had been done to him... A single tear escaped and rolled down his cheek to disappear into the fabric of his mask.

He was undeserving of her.

Ghost inhaled sharply at the painful thought and the ferocity of his strikes intensified. That was how Price found him an hour later.

“Ghost,” he called gently. The lieutenant was too far gone to hear. Price carefully approached the raging man from the flank, “Ghost!” his authoritative voice bellowed.

Simon finally slowed his punches long enough to turn toward the voice. Price clenched his jaw at the pain visible in those eyes. “That’s enough for one night son,” his deep voice soothed. “Come on now, give the bag a bloody rest, eh?”

Ghost’s legs wobbled slightly with the effort of walking toward the nearest bench. He sat, panting hard with exertion, angry eyes firmly locked on the floor in front of him.

“What’s eating at you Simon, hm? Did the bag do something?”

Silence.

“Or would this perhaps be related to a certain young lady?”

Ghost shifted uncomfortably at the question, thus giving Price his answer. “You’ve been a mess for weeks now Ghost. So come on now, out with what’s troubling you. Tell ole' Captain Price all about it.”

“N-negative sir,” the skull replied almost automatically, still winded from his workout.

“Ohhh now Simon… that wasn’t a request.”

“Sir…,” Ghost started to argue, only to pause when Price held up his hand signaling him to stop.

“Lieutenant, you’ve been running on fumes since you got here. Ya' aren’t sleeping, you’re not eating, instead you work yourself half to death at all hours of the day and punish innocent punching bags until your hands barely work anymore. Now I know you have your reasons, but this time keeping us out isn’t a choice. You’re destroying yourself. That’s no good for a mission. No good for you either. So I’ll say it again: tell me what has you so upset Lieutenant, that’s an order.”

Ghost took a deep breath and shut his eyes tight. “I… I can’t,” he ground out in a low voice. He wanted to answer his captain. He honestly did, but he just couldn’t get the words out.

“Try,” the captain encouraged. A long pause stretched between them before Price decided to help his poor lieutenant out a bit. “It is her, innit?”

“… yes sir,” Ghost whispered in a defeated tone.

“You’re in love with her, are you not Simon Riley?”

Clarity flooded his tormented mind in an explosion that would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t already been sitting down. Warmth rapidly spread through his entire aching body as he finally had a name for what he was feeling. The way Price said it made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. Undeniable.

L-love..? I’m-I’m in… love? Thoughts in his mind began swirling. His shoulders tensed and his throat locked up.

But no. Impossible. Impossible, unthinkable, ludicrous and any other number of adjectives. Not for someone like him.

“Mhm," the older man hummed as he nodded wistfully. "You, Simon Riley, are in love. Quite understandable, I think. She is indeed a beauty. More than that – she’s smart, dedicated, compassionate. A woman of great integrity. Really, what’s not to love?” Price smirked slightly, “Love is an amazing thing, so why do you look so miserable son?”

“Sir, I-I can’t…” his lieutenant repeated, all but pleading as he turned his eyes away from Price with a shake of his head. “I'm not-” he hissed through gritted teeth, shaking away memories of his father's taunts and slanders that were loud enough in his head to make his ears ring.

“How long now?” Price pushed carefully. Getting his lieutenant to finally open up was a rare thing and Price didn’t want him to shut down and fly off into another rage.

Ghost waited for several breaths, still refusing to look at Price. Propping his elbows on his knees, Ghost rested his masked head in his hands, “First day.”

“You’ve been in love with Sereza since the day we got here. I thought as much. Does Sereza not return your feelings?”

“No sir, she… doesn’t know.”

“You’ve never told her,” Price clarified. 

“…No sir.”

“Simon,” the captain got down to one knee, sinking to Ghost’s eye level, and rested a hand on his shoulder, “Being in love and having the chance to earn a woman’s love in return is a wonderful thing. There is no greater treasure in the world for a man.”

“I’m… not enough,” Ghost ground out lowly.

“No man is enough of anything to truly deserve a woman’s heart, Simon. They are enchanting, if perplexing, creatures. We can never be equal to them or worthy enough of them but the feeling of holding the woman you love in your arms… there is nothing in the world like it, son. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

If only. God if only. He barely dared to imagine the feeling of holding Sereza against his chest. There were no words to describe how badly he wished for that. But the Brit knew it was something he could never have and the vision only hurt him more. Ghost could only nod at his captain in response.

“I hate to think of you denying yourself that happiness when it’s right here in front of you.” Price squeezed Ghost’s shoulder encouragingly, “Despite what you think, you deserve a chance at happiness Simon. More than any other man I know.”

Simon squeezed his eyes tight and grit his teeth at the emotions Price’s words stirred in him. “Negative sir.”

Price stayed quiet. A calculation to keep the younger man talking.

“I don't want to love her.” He let out a deep breath, “She deserves better. Not this kind of life… Not a soldier who might never come home one day. Leave her all alone. Not someone who is so… so fucked up, but…,” he trailed off before releasing a shaky breath as he dropped his head further into his bruised hands, “I can’t get her out of my head.”

Price let the quiet admission hang in the air a few moments.

“She… she’s always there,” Ghost’s fingers scraped over his masked hair, digging into it. “But she is not mine to have…She will never be.” His voice broke the tiniest bit at the pain that fact brought to him.

“Nonsense Simon. Now I can't say what Sereza’s feelings are – she can be every bit as stubborn and difficult to read as you are – but I’ve seen the way she looks at you.” Price smiled a bit wider when Ghost finally lifted his head, giving his captain a skeptical look. It didn’t surprise him at all that Ghost hadn’t noticed. “She does. Always watching for you and drifts closer to you every time you’re around. She wants to be nearer to you Simon. I know you don’t think you’re worthy of the lady, but to be honest son – that’s for her to decide. And I’m fairly certain she has feelings for you as well.”

A shudder ran through him. Price felt it, he was sure. The thought alone that Sereza felt something for him other than the revulsion he felt for himself – anything at all – was causing his heart to race in his chest. 

He would… actually, he had no idea what he’d do. This was all a brand-new experience for him, and he truthfully had no clue what people who were involved this – in this ..... relationship… stuff....  did during the whole thing. Besides bedroom activities, obviously. And a discussion about THAT with his captain would be a whole other level of hell. Plus the only experience he had with relationships was watching his parents and there was no way he was going to copy that model. But he did know he would… somehow… do everything in his power to make Sereza happy because her happiness was the only thing in his dark world that mattered.

“The only way to pull yourself out of this hole you’ve found yourself in Simon is to tell her.”

Well now Simon’s heart was racing for an entirely different reason.

“I know that can be as scary as any fucking battlefield there ever was, but that’s the truth of it son. The only way forward is through.”

Simon visibly swallowed hard. “N-negative sir, I… I need some time first.” He really hoped Price would understand without him having to explain further. This was embarrassing enough as it was. But Ghost needed time to think first. To process his emotions about the whole thing. To adjust to… being in love.

The captain could understand that request. For someone like Simon, this was a jarring realization to come to. “Alright Simon. Take a little time. But don’t wait too long son. Love waits for no man.” Price clapped him on the shoulder once more before standing back up and heading out of the gym. “And get your arse to bed soon, for fuck’s sake.”

That was a little more like it. Price routinely told his lieutenant to go to bed almost every chance he got if he saw Simon out of his quarters late at night. Ghost appreciated that small shred of normalcy. He released another rush of breath and rested his head back in his sore hands.

Love. I’m… I’m in love. He thought to himself. I’m in love… with Sereza. He only wished the internal confession caused fewer conflicting feelings within him. With a weary groan, the exhausted lieutenant stood and made his own way out of the gym to go shower.

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Weeks passed. Some slowly, others in a blur where Ghost couldn’t be completely sure he remembered everything that had happened. With no missions or intel to keep him distracted he'd spent the entire time processing his not-so-little epiphany.

No there was nothing little about it at all. For him it was fucking life-altering and nothing short of terrifying.

Love. He repeated for the ten millionth time in his head. I’m in love with her. The thought brought back the now familiar warm feeling in his veins. A feeling he now recognized to be love. He was getting much better at admitting it – in his head.

Out loud was a whole other thing entirely. Sure he could now more or less admit to himself freely that he was in love with Sereza, but that was pretty much where his progress came to a halt. God his mind was ridiculous.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed out to himself.

And apparently his luck was also ridiculous today because Price decided to pick now – Ghost’s little moment of solitude on the roof – to have another chat.

“Lieutenant,” his cheerful voice boomed.

“John,” Simon greeted simply with a nod of his head before returning to looking out over the base below.

“I can't help but notice Ghost that you’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past few weeks,” Price stated matter-of-factly, rocking back on his heels a bit. Ghost didn’t understand why the man seemed so proud of himself for that. “Since it’s been a bit I thought I’d check in with you, see where your head’s at now.”

“I have, yes sir.” Ghost took a deep breath as he tried to keep himself calm. Why was this stuff so bloody difficult to talk about anyway? “I’ve thought about it a lot and… I understand it now. I can accept it.”

“You admit that you love Sereza?”

“…Affirmative sir,” Ghost answered after a beat.

“Very good. Now did you admit it to her yet?”

Simon inwardly groaned. “Negative.”

Price wanted to facepalm himself. Or whack Ghost in the back of his head. Either one. “I see. Why not lad?”

“It’s not that easy.” Ghost’s irritation was beginning to bubble up. He hung his head as he searched for the right words. “And it’s… difficult… to talk about.”

“What is it the Americans say? 'Embrace the suck' or something like that? Bloody Yanks,” Price chuckled, “True Simon, new things are hard at first. But they get better with time,” Price leaned on the railing next to his stubborn lieutenant, “And they get easier a lot faster by talking about it, bloody hell.”

“Yes sir, sorry sir.” Ghost knew it drove people crazy sometimes trying to have a conversation with him. He felt bad for it and he was trying, but it was so fucking difficult. Particularly when it involved feelings, and emotions, and that… L-word. Why was everything in his life so damn hard all of the damn time?!

The Brit could feel Price’s eyes glued to him. “How about we start small, hm? You said you can understand it and accept it?”

“Affirmative,” Ghost replied, only a slight hesitation this time.

“Great! Let's hear it then.”

The skull’s eyes went wide. So much for only a slight hesitation. “Sir?”

“Let’s hear you say it. Say that you love her.” Price was enjoying this too much, if his grin was any indication.

Deep breath, you can do this. It’s just a few fucking words. Simon’s hands began to tremble. What the hell are you thinking? No you can’t. He clenched his fists around the railing. “I…” Another deep breath. How the bloody hell was this starting small? “I-I… I’m…”

He couldn’t do it. "FUCK!!" he snarled loudly in frustration, slamming his hand on the railing and turning his back on his captain.

“You said yourself you can admit it,” the older man started.

“I can!!” Simon roared as he paced back and forth in his agitation.

“So go on then,” Price countered.

“I meant in my fucking head!”

“Simon, look at me.” Price waited as Ghost settled down and faced him. He knew this was hard and he could be patient when he needed to be. “You love Sereza. Yes or no?”

Simon sighed, “…yes.”

“You make it sound like a bleeding punishment. Just say ‘I love her.’ Easy-peasy lad.”

For fuck’s sake. Well, if it will make Price get off his back – even a little - “...I love her.”

Price wiped a fake tear away. “They grow up so fast,” he fake-cried. Ghost wanted to punch him. Might have actually done so if he wasn’t the captain. “Maybe slightly more happy, hm? A bit less like you’re being sent to your doom?”

“I… love her.”

“Better, better. Much less doom that time. Again?”

“Price…” Simon was not in the mood for this. What he wouldn’t give for the man to just sod off.

“Again.”

Fucking fine, Simon yelled in his head. “I love her.”

“Much better lad! You could try using her name though. She does have one.”

Yes I’m fucking well aware, you todger, Ghost thought to himself. Bloody hell this was embarrassing. “I... love Sereza.”

“Why do you pause like you’re being forced on pain of death to say it?”

So help me, I’m gonna punch him, Ghost groaned in his head. “Not a natural sir,” he deadpanned.

“That’s for bloody sure. Quite shit at it really, Christ,” Price concurred. Simon wasn’t so sure that merited such a quick agreement. “Keep trying son, it’ll get easier.” He gestured for the lieutenant to continue.

Why did this man enjoy taking the piss so much? Ghost was honestly curious.

Finally, after an unnecessarily long time and a lot of teasing comments, Simon could say it with only a little difficulty. “I love Sereza.” It came out fluidly, a hint of confidence even.

“There you go son!” Price laughed and patted Simon hard on the shoulder. “Now then, what exactly do you love about her? Hm? Is it the usual dazzling eyes and smile?” The skull almost rolled his eyes when his captain made a sickeningly sweet face and blinked rapidly at him from under his eyelashes. “Or is there a little more to it?”

“More.”

There was so, so much more.

His mind flooded with all the things he loved about Sereza.

Simon let his eyes wander to the horizon. “I, I love… the sound of her voice. I love the feeling I get when I see her walk into the room. Her smile and the way her eyes shine and her scent. I love the dumb jokes we tell each other and making her laugh with the really stupid ones. But I also love just sitting in silence next to her whether it’s reading or just watching her return emails. It can be any mundane little thing and I’ll love every second of watching her do it. I love the strands of loose hair that fall against her neck. I love the shape of her ears and the expressions she makes when she’s annoyed. I love how much she hates when her wet hair makes her back cold and her bad mood when someone wakes her up early. I love watching her hair blow in the wind when she’s sitting outside. I love the way she drags a finger across her lip when she’s deep in thought. And I love …” Ghost’s voice trailed off as he paused for a bit. “I love how she makes me feel at peace by just being near her. I love her not just for what she made of herself, but for who I am when I’m with her.”

Price was in awe. “Simon… you’re smiling under there.”

Ghost felt his face flush deeply. He so appreciated his balaclava at the moment. But Price was right, damn it all; he was smiling. And it felt good.

...He felt good.

“That was beautiful son,” the captain sincerely complimented, “Absolutely beautiful.” Price decided there couldn’t possibly be a better ending for their discussion than that, and he definitely wanted these chats with Simon to end on a positive note. After an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder, Price left the lieutenant to be alone with his thoughts.

Moments later, "Hey Ghost,"

The teeth behind the mask clenched together tightly as the sweet sound of her voice washed over him.

Fuuuuucking hell...

---------

Intro. Hi everyone.

I'm new to this - so please be a bit patient with me. Been writing for over a decade but I've never let anyone see any of my stuff. Not even family. I decided to post it here though, to get a bit of public opinion I guess. Constructive criticism is appreciated but please be kind. And if you can't be kind then scroll on.

I love Ghost x Soap as much as the next person. I think they're perfect for each other and so adorable, however this time I decided to try Ghost with my female character from a different story. However feel free to replace her with Soap if that butters your biscuit. Go for it.

This is just a small section from the middle of a story I have in my head currently. If it does well then I'll actually write the whole thing and post it. Also I didn't proofread very much so please excuse mistakes.

Last thing to mention is this story is a massive one and a slow burn but it gets very spicy.