#could i work through my own issues by myself? yes probably

[stuckinapril]

i think i officially set my sights on a therapist and i'll be contacting her very soon?? therapy was legitimately not on my 2024 bingo card (or in the cards for me at all) but here we are????

[angelfoxx]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° “COULD I…HELP YOU?”

… in which the genshin hybrids maybe, possibly let you help with their heats/ruts

FEATURING: gorou, tighnari, & yae miko.

WARNINGS: afab reader; do you consider eating yae out at the shrine sacrilege because if so then uh. um. scratches my neck awkwardly

NOTE/S: hey! i’m new and i eat requests UP. if u enjoy my work, pls leave a request and i’ll see if i can do it!

— GOROU

✧ He tries not to mention it to you. Key word; tries. More often than not he’s dealt with his…biological problems…during combat, and when you are leading an entire rebellion, getting off probably isn’t your top concern. Is it annoying? Yes. Does it make him irritable and short-tempered and want to commit violent crimes against the nation? Also yes. He goes absolutely apeshit insane during the worst of his cycle and chances are if you happen to be on the front lines with him you’ll see him lose his goddamn mind because while he may be a very high-ranking general he is also a bitch to the biological system and, archons, the frustration he has to otherwise ignore gets fueled into his job. he commits war crimes against the state

✧ That is, of course, until you. You are now a new factor in his life and considering that you’re not only fighting beside him but also more often than not sleeping over in his tent, bringing him food after he returns to camp, or doing who-knows-what-else, you’re bound to find out one way or another. His leading fear is that you’ll have a rather rude awakening to his issue after arriving at his tent a little too late and finding him trying to sleep, trying, because he doesn’t get much of that anymore between war and also hormones, but he’s afraid you’ll be a little too late and instead of him sleeping you’ll find him halfway curled over himself with his tortured dick slick in his hands and fierce red bleeding over his face as he tries to sate the carnal urge seething in his loins.

✧ He eventually tells you, sort of; he brings you in well before his cycle starts and tells you, as calmly as he can manage, that you should stay away from his tent because the coming week is going to be hard for him. You misunderstand, initially, and immediately start reassuring him that if the resistance is running low on supplies or rations or defenses you’ll go out no problem to provide assistance. This then leads to him having to explain that no, this isn’t anything to do with the resistance, it’s a…it’s a biological problem, and it makes me…frustrated, it frustrates me, and I don’t think I could live with myself if you got caught in the crossfire. He’s really trying not to stumble over his words — this is incredibly embarrassing, incredibly, like, tail-trying-to-tuck embarrassing — but he’s doing his best, and what more could you ask?

✧ You’re not stupid. Biological problems making him frustrated to the point of not being able to see you? He’s dancing around the whole core of the thing and so you half-laugh and look at him and his slumping ears and semi-tucked tail and rose-tinted cheeks and ask him, point blank, if he’s trying to explain rut. He seems almost scandalized by you putting it so simply, but with a whiny groan and guiltily-closing eyes he nods and affirms your suspicions. Now he’s trying to excuse himself; it’s not a big deal, I’ll be fine, I just…it would be best for you to stay away, stay away while I’m dealing with it, but you’re not having it. Obviously, he’s used to dealing with his primal side on his own, but now he has you; perhaps your clear-thinking, never-having-dealt-with-a-rut conscience is what makes you wait for him to finish rushing through his panicked monologue before you step forward, take his hand in yours, and ask if it would be a better idea for him to just…get it out of his system. You know, for the efforts of the resistance and all. It can’t be good to have General Top Dog Gorou not completely focused on the fight, right? So maybe he should just…you know, let you spend the night this coming week and just let his biological problem run its course. You know, for the resistance.

At this point, you aren’t sure whether the damp spot under your cheek is from spit or tears. You can’t exactly check either; it’s like your muscles aren’t listening to you anymore. They’re so rigid it hurts, so stiff you can’t move unless you want to lose what little composure you have left. You’re hot, so hot; despite being clothed in what are now torn-up, ragged shreds of fabric, you feel stifled, overheated; it’s not coming from your surroundings, but rather, your gut, from somewhere deep in your gut, the same place that’s making every muscle go stiff and your legs practically vibrate and your eyes roll back and oh, please, the same place that Gorou keeps hitting, blunt tip spearing up against and hammering into overdrive.

The thought swirls hazily in your head for half a second before you feel hard, slick length pull out of you, bump heavily against the back of your thigh before you hear a shuffle and then a hot tongue is prodding at your sobbing hole, carving searing lines through the thick glaze of spit, pre, and arousal coating the hot space between your legs and flooding over to the insides of your thighs. It’s been like this for so long, so long — you’ve lost track of time. You force a rolled-back eye to come forward; you gaze blearily at the ceiling of the tent, try to find the glow of the moon but it’s no use, not when everything is blurred together with tears and the world feels like it’s spinning and—

Gorou whines between your legs, laps up the arousal your cunt is all but drooling out by this point. His face is glued to you; a broken, absent consideration for whatever little things he’s got in here crosses through your mind as you hear the telltale whisk of fur on tent.

You’re leaning your hips back, ready this time when he mounts back up behind you. Both hands grope around your hips, claw at the seams of your thighs and finally find purchase quite literally on the hill of your pelvis. His chest lays up on your back; he’s burning up, skin on fire as his canines latch onto your ear and his breath threatens to burn your cheek. He doesn’t speak; he can’t, you don’t think, vocabulary reduced to a handful of pants, moans, and breathy half-words, slurred “m’gon, m’gonna, hol’n” as his stiff cockhead prods through your slit and nudges back into the sopping warmth of your cunt. Something clatters to the floor; if the rhythmic, quickening thump of his tail furiously hitting the floor in tandem with his pistoning hips, he’s close, again. How many times had he already? Four? Five, maybe? He’s still going at it as hard as he had in the start; the only indicator that his stamina is lessening is how sloppy he’s getting with his motions. He’s constantly groping around for a hold on your slick skin despite having found one immediately when this all first started; his breathing has steadily grown more labored, and you can feel saliva soaking down your neck as his teeth find purchase beside your nape and he bites down, some last effort to anchor himself as his hips twitch and a fresh rope of heat spills out against that spot deep in your gut.

— TIGHNARI

✧ Much unlike the aforementioned general, his methods of dealing with his rut are…indulgent. He knows better than anyone what the rut is and why it does what it does and how to best work with it. The other researches know this; they know that sometimes, for no apparent reason at all, he writes up a whole patrol schedule for the next several days and sends himself out on the further ones; he’ll disappear for days at a time, often excusing himself with reasoning along the lines of studying the forest over a period of days to ensure that the Withering isn’t rearing its head, or that he wants to record the state of certain formerly-affected plants over a longer section of time. Both are rather normal reasons to be excused for so long; plus, Collei’s got home base under control, and his absences aren’t necessarily unusual. So, it works.

✧ If you pry enough — but wait, Tighnari, we might need you, we’ve got this thing we’re doing…how long will you be gone for? — he’ll explain it to you, and he’ll do so rather eloquently which is wild considering that he’s really just talking about how he gets ridiculously, unbearably horny for a week or so at a time and fucks his hands several dozen times over. He explains it scientifically, simply, and comfortably; he’s casual about what he’s talking about and maybe that’s why you have to do a double take and, as he’s walking out to check on Collei and make sure she’s got things covered, you sort of sputter and turn around and ask if he’s going into rut. He just pauses, looks over his shoulder, and blinks — you feel kind of stupid when he just looks at you and dubiously goes “yes?” Somehow, despite him being the one who’s literally distancing himself so he can masturbate in peace, you feel awkward and exposed. In any case, he just walks away, very casually, to check in on Collei, leaving you to realize that oh, oh, that’s…oh.

✧ When you stop him the night before he leaves — he’s packing a satchel of whatever he needs, you’d guess — you’re the one who’s shifting on your feet and hot in the face as you ask if he needs any help. He just blinks at you, asks what you mean, and flicks an ear when you open your mouth to answer and stammer out something about helping to carry something to his temporary campsite. He says he appreciates the offer but he’s got it managed just fine; plus, he adds, you don’t want to be around someone under (what he calls) animalistic instinct. You don’t quite know how to say that uh, well, haha, funny you say that, because I kind of do, and so you just say you’re worried about him going off on his own. He laughs — he finds that quite endearing — and tells you he’ll be fine. He tells you to go get some sleep; if it’ll make you feel better, he’ll bring you some spoils from the jungle when he gets back, so you can look forward to his return for reasons other than the obvious.

✧ Which, of course, doesn’t work. He disappears the next morning, as expected, but thanks to literally scouting the whole fucking jungle a good bit of adventurer’s expertise you stumble across his camp. Camp, consisting of a hollowed-out tree stump and the starts of a nest constructed from underbrush and reeds. It doesn’t take long to find the fox himself; upon seeing you he’s quick to jump into scolding, to which you literally have to cut him off and say that no, no, you know why he’s here and you’ll leave but also you meant it if he wanted help, like you really meant it, and…

Hands balled into fists, crushing willowy reed-stems in your grasp; to say you’re being drilled into is an understatement. The world had smelled initially like the jungle — damp soil, wild flowers, sweet wood — but now it smells hot, rough, almost wild.

And it’s all because of him.

Breath coming in short, thick half-pant, half-grunts, Tighnari’s chasing refuge from the need exploding through his system; it’s evident in the tendons defined down his neck, the blueish veins starting to stick up under his skin, the sheen of sweat painting his skin a glossy golden-cream. His face tips back; quivering under him, you watch as he groans into the hot, enclosed air of his carved-out camp, watch as he swallows, hard, as if to calm himself down.

Fat chance of that, you manage to think, lifting your head just a little to try a glance at your hips. Your prostrate hips, flat against the jungle floor, legs split apart to leave room for the sharp-eyed hybrid overhead to thrust up into you.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice is surprisingly steady, considering how hard his hips are rutting and how aggressive the slap of skin on skin has gotten. His voice is aimed down at you; he’s looking down, now, watching your expression change with sardonic eyes. Both tall ears sit almost-flat against his head; he finds you funny, right now, funny even though you’re the one he’s been so desperately fucking into. “Helping me move my stuff, huh?”

You open your mouth to answer and can’t. He knows damn well what you’d meant; he knew it then, too, when he said he’d be just fine on his own. A test to see how far you’d go, perhaps, and one that you’d succeeded. Going on a wild hunt through a jungle to go find him is certainly something, he thinks — and what kind of thanks would it be if he didn’t let you give this whole bitch thing a whirl?

Your breathing breaks as his pace grows quicker; he never falters, not even when you grab on around the small of his back snd dig your nails into the smooth planes of his back. “Gonna,” you gasp, almost voiceless; “gonna, gonna, ‘Nari, gonna…”

Black fur curls against your ankle and trails up your thigh. He finds it funny, how quick you are to break under him; but oh, silly you. Silly, silly you. One round…that won’t do. But you know that, don’t you? That’s why you came out here; to ruin yourself, or to let him ruin you. Isn’t it?

— YAE MIKO

WOMEN. WOMEN RRRRRRAUGH THIS IS MOMMY

✧ If you think anyone is gonna know shit when this woman deals with a heat cycle then you’re wrong. Wrong. Yes, it is very frustrating and yes, she’s well aware of that feeling being there and yes, archons, she’s very poignantly aware that you, her little admirer — she’s poignantly aware that whenever you’re around she finds that feeling getting a little stronger and a little harder to ignore because maybe, maybe she’s a little…a little interested in you, and maybe those comments that sound flirty but you’ve always just chalked up to her being her mean a little more than she lets on, but…no, no. She won’t tell you that. It would be embarrassing and also weird; even Ei doesn’t know about it, and Ei knows most things. She knows her rosy-haired, sly-eyed familiar has taken a liking to you, and she’s mentioned it in brief teasing every now and again — in Ei’s mind, she should really just tell you because human life is short and eternity is damn long — but what she doesn’t know is that hr same rosy-haired, sly-eyed familiar finds somewhere, anywhere — hell, half the time it’s at the shrine where she won’t be bothered — and fucks herself with her hand and pretends it’s you, pretends, and she feels more than slightly foul afterward because she’s doing it at a sacred shrine but archons, screw it, she needs to take care of this or she’ll provoke Ei into another bad decision with her attitude.

✧ Speaking of which; it’s after another casual wander through Inazuma with Ei that you head up to visit her foxy familiar. Much unlike the many times you’ve seen her here before, she’s not in front of that sacred tree; no, she’s staring off into the fenced-off pond, and she looks very far away, like her head’s not all here. Upon calling for her, she seems to come back; she finds your eyes, offers you a charming little smile, and shuffles over as if to make room for you despite her current spot already being separated from the main crowd. Internally, she’s cursing herself for how her heart beats a little harder against her ribs and how the warmth between her legs starts to spread up into her gut, twists around her rationale and puts her world in a haze. Being in the depths of a heat cycle, specifically around you, has her almost scattered; she hears all of your questions well after you ask them and she answers even more delayed than that and so maybe that’s why you’re suddenly so close, trying to get closer to her face with your expression wrought and eyes worried as you ask if she’s feeling alright.

✧ She should push you away. She should, really, because you’re so warm, and you smell so nice and sweet and you look so pretty and untouched and — no, no, she should push you away, but she can’t. She’ll hide it under some smooth, late remark — I’m feeling fine; is this just an excuse to get closer to me? — but the little voice in her head is screaming at her to grab you by the nape and drag you off to a quiet, hidden corner and wreck you because you’re hers, hers, her sweet thing, hers…

✧ You don’t look alright. Have you been sleeping enough? Oh, ever-so-innocent, ever-so-sweet you, concerned suddenly that maybe the thin mountain air has gotten her sick as you press your palm to her forehead to see and — you’re burning up, you’re actually burning up, we need…do you have medicine? I’m not sure if familiars carry medicine, but we can head down to the village…no, no, I’ll head down, you stay here and I’ll bring something back for you, or…

✧ She finally manages a no. No, she doesn’t need medicine; trying to manage to keep her voice from dropping, she gives you the simple explanation of this happens sometimes and medicine won’t do anything about it, and you’re kind of confused because does she mean her period? do fox familiars get periods? when fox familiars get periods do they suddenly burn up like they’ve got a bad fever? but then you realize fox and oh, oh, you think you get it now. It must be evident on your face; oh, you say, face going hot, oh, sorry, I…do you need anything? I can leave you alone — sorry, I didn’t know, this is probably a bad time… but she’s just looking at you, now, and you don’t quite know what to do before you feel hot fingers wrap around your wrist and nails poke your skin. She’s trying to keep up the act; are you asking to help? she manages, suave tone just slightly shaky, and you’re sort of left sitting there dealing with the moral question of whether or not fucking the Electro Archon’s familiar is something you’ll get tit-sword’d for but ultimately, looking at slightly-heaving Miko with her eyes almost glowing and her skin starting to burn yours and oh, is that a blush you’re seeing? you decide that maybe getting tit-sword’d is worth it.

For being such a smooth talker, Yae Miko is awfully messy when it comes to sex. At least, this kind of sex. The sex where she’s dragged you rather hurriedly and rather unceremoniously behind one of the buildings atop the shrine, practically shoved you up against the wooden wall and swallowed any complaints or remarks you may have had about the manner between her lips. Dominant, yes — but messy. Messy, in the way her mouth can’t seem to stay on yours and instead slips off, wets the corners of your mouth and down under your jaw when you try and fail to gasp for breath. Messy, in the way that her hands are immediately moving; one raking down your spine, the other digging into your nape, and then both to your sides, and then one up under your blouse to tear apart the buttons and get a handful of your chest. Messy, in the way that despite her heat being at its worst, especially being neglected for so long, she insists on marking you; you don’t know if the Shogun’s eyes see the shrine but oh, oh, you hope they don’t, because you’re pinned to a wall with her familiar licking and biting and sucking on the soft spots under your jaw so hard that you’re heaving and debating on whether or not it’s okay to wrap your arms behind her head and draw her deeper into you because it feels like fire, it feels like fire on your throat…

“On your knees,” she purrs shakily, breath hot on your neck. “On your knees, get on your knees…you said you’d help me, didn’t you? Be good…listen to me, listen…”

And so, you do. And, really, you shouldn’t be surprised but oh, the way she watches you drop weakly to your knees, land softly in the grass with the wooden wall burning up your back — it’s too much, it’s too much, and your eyes have gone drunken before she can even start to move her clothes, move the pretty white silk out of the way and she’s lowering herself, too, but she really doesn’t have to. She doesn’t have to, because you’re drunk on desire and maybe that’s what gives you the confidence to touch her, wrap a shaky hand around her thigh and stretch up, duck under her dress guys im so sorry it might be a kimono but i actually do not know and i dont want to use the wrong terminology and sound dumb please help and…oh, she smells so sweet, so warm and sweet and—

She swears she sees stars. The long, pitched-tailed moan she lets out is evidence of it; nails scrape along your nape as you tongue at the heat burning fiercely between her thighs, taste thick, sugared arousal on your tongue and groan as you lap for more. She gives you no instructions, no limits, and so you just go all in; you wrap an arm around her waist to steady yourself as you let go of her thigh, reach up with your now-free hand and spread slick, soaked folds apart to get on the source. Her breathing is labored; you can feel her pulse stuttering when the tip of your tongue finds her pulsing cunt, pushes in only to get tightened on. Something warm and soft brushes the hand behind her back; you’ve seen the ghost of her tail a few times but it sure as fuck feels real now, beating against her thigh as you latch onto the sweet well between her thighs and practically drink the effect of her heat as it dribbles down your chin. Heaven, you’re in heaven, and oh, archons, so is she; the wooden wall behind you groans as she shifts, assumably to rest her weight against it as her thighs steady against your head and close you off to the outside world.

[takeme-totheworld]

I've been thinking about the fact that a lot of us identify so strongly with these characters because we identify strongly with their trauma. The specific trauma of either Aziraphale or Crowley mirrors something from our own life in a way that makes them feel intensely real to us.

And that's definitely true in my case. Aziraphale's traumas and flaws and character arc mirror my own life in such a way that watching GO is an extremely powerful experience for me. But I'm specifically reminded of a much younger version of myself. The very first time I watched the show, I noticed it during the Garden of Eden scene. I'd never read the book, knew nothing about the show except it was an angel and a demon everyone shipped, and in the very first scene I was texting one of the friends who had been urging me to watch it like "lol omg why is Aziraphale literally me in high school??" (I'm almost forty, high school was awhile ago.) So it's like this intense reliving of that time of my life, how painful it was and how lost I felt and yes, some of the truly obnoxious shit I did and said while I was struggling to figure it all out.

The other thing, though, is that I'm still a very Aziraphale-coded person, just in terms of my overall personality and vibe and strengths and weaknesses. And that's the other really meaningful thing I've taken from the show, actually, because I'm like an Aziraphale who finally completely broke free from Heaven and then got a lot of therapy. (Seriously. So much therapy.) Which isn't to say that I'm now some totally evolved paragon of mental health. I'm not. I think what I'm trying to say is that my identification with Aziraphale isn't just about the trauma. It's about the good bits, too. And it's actually really comforting and affirming to be reminded that working through a bunch of my stuff in therapy hasn't made me any less me. It hasn't changed me into a whole different person.

One of the most Crowley-coded people I've ever met is my therapist. (It's probably why we clicked. I could not possibly have done a bunch of intense trauma therapy with someone who was too much like me.) He's a really good therapist, and like any really good therapist, he's done the work on himself so that he's not walking around being a bundle of unresolved issues while he's trying to help clients. But he's still very Crowley-coded. He's got the sass, the quick wit, the fun clowning around energy. He would totally be a demon who glued coins to the sidewalk. He comes across like a Crowley who's content and comfortable with himself.

Not just about the trauma.

These characters aren't just their traumas, and neither are we.

[wcamino-confessions]

hi, seraphronos/v01d4l_n0x here (yes the real one /silly) probably this doesn't look the most professional considering I literally just retired but I've been frustrated about certain things that happened whilst I was on the team and I've never really had the change to vent it all out. and yes I know this isn't really relevant anymore but I just needed to rant a little little disclaimer: my time on the lt apart from this situation was great!! loved it on there and I loved working with everyone else frfr !! so this is not intended to slander them at all this is mostly about the helper anon here, so to clarify for anyone unaware: void-anons is not me. they are a blog made to purposely impersonate me, and no I don't know who they are. I have my suspicions, but I'd rather not risk falsely accusing someone considering that's literally what happened to me lol. also this is mostly about me and my experiences so I'm not speaking from the team as a whole here so to start: literally fuck you helper anon. not cool man 👎. you didn't have to make the blog look like mine and could have made it completely anonymous but no you really just had to drag me into it (which im assuming was because im not the most active in chats so it was easier to make it seem like it was mine cause there would be no one to back me and my actions up). also I'll forever be annoyed at the rui aesthetic. like that is literally my guy ☹️. I understand you had frustrations about how things were handled and yeah I get it, but you really did not have to drag me into it??? and then joke about me getting demoted afterwards and act proud of the fact you did???? again just really not cool boooo 🍅🍅🍅. I hope both sides of your pillow are warm tbh I really do not like you my second point: the chats after I returned. yes guys I did read up. I definitely get why the other helpers were frustrated as was I but I felt some of the comments were kinda personal about me?? like I saw the point about how I wasn't close with the other team members show up a few times and like?? that isn't really about the confession that's about me 👎. and just to add on yes I'm aware this was like 8-9 months ago now, and most people part of that discussion have now retired third (and probably final point): the team as a whole on the issue. First of all, it took 2 days of constant bumping and sending proof I don't own the account just to get back on the team. 2 days I was waiting to see if they'd actually believe me. if it was me I honestly would have admitted it, but the fact it isn't and that it's completely out of my control is the worst feeling. little note here but I did really appreciate the members of the lt who sent me pms apologising/asking if there's anything they could do, thank you guys, love u /p. but the fact still stands that they haven't been demoted, and I have pushed for any updates/information that I was allowed to know, but I just kept getting told that 'we're working on it'. I know it's a difficult situation but it really just came across to me like nothing was actually being done. extra few little notes here but the fact that the first confession mentioned how they were on a burner account then proceeded to make it look like it was mine?? why would i do that?? also why was I immediately demoted without being given the option to explain anything first. I feel the actions from the team were very rushed and whilst I do understand it was quite a unique situation, I feel like the steps taken weren't completely thought through. to add to this though I'm glad I did get an explanation in ufc not too long back. I appreciate the transparency /gen. last note from me but I'd like to add the reason that I have so much to say here was because I felt as if I was being shut down at certain points. naturally, this was brought up in casual helper chats more than once and so I'd rant a little, but I had to hold myself back in case of anything.

I did proofread this a little but it is long so pls ignore any mistakes 🙏

[mrs-monaghan]

well, i see that your blog is cock friendly, and even tho its a jikook blog, there is something that i think we should adress (i'm not saying that this could be a reason for jk's crush, im not saying it could not), but...

Namjoon's cock!!!!! I suare, if everything in that body is proporcional, you know, i mean YOU KNOW he is fucking big!

Oh anon I really wish you hadn't gone there.

Now we must talk about JK and his anti Minimoni agenda. We now need to delve into this and get to the root of the issue. We must!

Jimin's hand on RM's lap.

JK: 👀

Love it. Okay let's take a look at some photos, shall we? Jimin's type.

Oh wait, before we proceed, JK's crush on RM i have never thought of it as an actual true crush. I think its played of as such for laughs. But I think JK just really admired him for his talents and what not and I don't think JK is attracted to RM in the slightest. Not even a little bit. Imo.

Now back to Jimin's type. 😁

Number 1) Wonho

Number 2) Black interviewer

Number 3) Usher

Number 4) JB who is basically JK's doppelganger in some of his photos 😅

Number 5) Gonna casually drop Tony

And last but not least Number 6) The main topic:

Jimin has a type. Okay? He likes them muscles and them thick men and them hot men and them arms and chests...and thighs... anyway, Mimi has a type. And while none of the men above hold a candle to his actual boyfriend, you can see the similarities.

Jungtiddies. Check

Thighs. Check

Arms. Check

The whole damn body. Check

Where I'm I going with this you ask? In short what I'm trying to say is, RM is Jimin's type. My friends and I disected this the other day and concluded the JK Minimoni thing probably has something to do with the fact that RM is Jimin's type to a T. JK looks at RM and sees himself. And then add the fact that RM is a genius and JK's insecurity goes through the roof!

(And like anon mentioned, JK has that Jungkonda, yes but on this post I also share what RM is working with so.... like I said. JK & RM, same thing basically 😂)

See, yeah, JK comes between Yoonmin and hates that Suga thirsts over his man. But, he is not threatened by short, skinny legged, with an ass almost as big as Jimin's, Min Yoongi. He knows Jimin will never see Suga that way. So he can dislike how Suga behaves with Jimin, but sometimes he even ignores it and doesn't look bothered at all. But when it comes to Minimoni he just has to insert himself. For eg, I saw something today.

Look at Jimin's face after JK adds in his 2 cents because of course he did

Minimoni moment, JK is like "not today Satan" He refuses for the audience to associate Jimin with RM and its the funniest shit. I mention here how JK inserted himself when Minimoni were practising the own it dance. Even though he wasn't really supposed to be there.

Disclaimer: The following opinions are my own, I will give them but please feel free to form your own

So listen. I will be the first person to tell people to stop treating the Tannies like characters in a fanfic. And I have mentioned many times that there has never been any in house dating (sans Jikook) That just wouldn't work and BTS wouldn't be together if that was the case. So please, please try not to read too much into the following tiny analysis. It's just something a friend pointed out to me and I couldn't believe it myself. It's short and quick, easy to miss. But it shows just how deep this thing with JK and Minimoni goes.

Okay so In the Soop season 2 episode 3 around 6 minutes in. (Thanks @serendipitous-sky)

Jin tells JK to go wake up either Jimin or V. Of course JK goes to wake up Jimin. Duh!

Sidebar, this isn't the point of my post, I just feel the need to point out that Jikook look at cameras ALOT. The whole time he climbed the stairs on the way to Jimin's room he was staring at that camera

If you guys remember correctly, Jimin was kind enough to switch rooms with RM the night before. RM couldn't sleep in the main house due to all the noise. So they swapped. But JK forgot this. So off he goes to what he thinks is still Jimin's room (he cheated/helped Jimin to get this room btw, but that's an analysis for another day) Anyway, back to JK looking for cameras.

If you're looking to mess around with your boyfriend and not get caught its important to find blind spots. So yes, Jikook are always making sure they know exactly where those cameras are. I'm sure y'all get it. 😏😏

Anyway, off he goes into the room and he's surprised to be greeted by RM's snores.

He forgot this wasn't Jimin's room anymore. But guys, here's my thing. JK is here, right? He has heard and seen that that is RM asleep in that bed, right? So you'd expect him to leave, right?

Wrong!! JK goes further into the room!

But why 🤭🤭🤭 that's my question. He had already established that was RM in the bed why did he need to go further into the room? What did he need to see? He literally has no reason to confirm it's RM in that bed when he already knows it is. So my guess is that he wanted to confirm RM was in that bed alone.

Now hear me out, even if Jimin was in that bed lying down fully clothed just shooting the shit with RM, it would not have gone down very well. At all. Shit, would have hit, the fucking fan!

We definitely wouldn't have go10 a season 2 of ITS or anymore BTS for that matter 🤭🤭 I'm just saying, for the sake of a million things, I'm glad RM was in there by himself.

JK as he's leaving says;

And off he goes to look for Jimin. We already know what happens after this. Nothing, coz we were robbed.

But anyway, conclusion: RM is the only one who actually threatens JK. And no this doesn't mean he doesn't trust Jimin. He knows Jimin would never but it doesn't stop him from wanting to make sure everyone most especially RM, remembers who Jimin 'belongs' to.

The End. Stan Namjikook for clear skin

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I didn't remind a coworker that we slept together?

So, to give some context. We're both men in our thirties and we met through work, although we became friends. He's probably the closest I have to a best friend and it's a lot of fun to work with him, especially when we get to travel together for it.

He's bisexual and currently in a relationship with a man (Incredible guy. We play Magic together and he might be one of the nicest person I've ever met). I'm straight.

So, it was an evening where we had a party at work. We were tipsy. I don't remember much why but because I was living the closest to the place, I invited him for an afterparty and we kept having fun at my place until we started to talk about sexuality. Tbf, I kind of always knew I was straight, but I can't deny that he's good-looking... Can't remember the details of the conversation but soon we were in bed. All I can say it's that I was probably the one that insisted the most. I think.

After that, we still stayed friends and often joked about it because we found it funny. It also kind of confirmed to me that I was straight. I didn't hate it out really got uncomfortable, but after it I was just... "Yeah, no. I'm straight."

Flash forward to a few years later.

He met with his current partner (yes, it happened before that! I would never get someone to cheat with me, especially just out of curiosity of my own sexuality!) but he also got into a serious accident and he lost some of his memories. We're still friends and coworkers, but that night is part of the loss.

So, sometimes I joke out of habit about us being more than friends and I can see that he's getting extremely confused. As if he was doubting the joke or not. He seems unsure about my sexuality and I'm not sure that suddenly telling him: "Hey, don't worry, I'm straight and I know it thanks to you accepting to sleep with me." will be a good idea. Especially that as far as I know, we never told anyone (because it's not really the kind of conversation to have at work...) and he never told me if his partner knows. Because of it, I'm afraid that if I am trying to tell him, his lack of memory will either make him believe he cheated on his partner (and don't get me started on the trust issues that he had gotten about himself and his partner with the accident/memory loss...) OR his partner could think I took advantage of him and make my life hell.

So, should I tell him or keep it to myself and hope that the memory will come back one day?

What are these acronyms?

[intotheelliwoods]

@kinky-asexual I love myself having certain colors represent certain themes/events/occasions :) TYSM by the way!!

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I bring you this doodle! @greentrickster

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Dont know why I drew this but here you go. @wraenata Have an emotional support peepaw.

Anyways, Marcus Moncrief was on Saturday Night Live, live!! Donnie was rambling to Leo about the concept of freezing time by reaching absolute 0 in Kelvin :)

---

Oh I have been waiting for someone to ask me something like this, you have no idea. Putting this ESSAY under a cut oops I wrote a ton (if the cut even works, sometimes they dont)

I am very aware of the norm of the usual take of Future Leo AU's, it was all those AU's and fics that mad inspired me after all! They are all so good and play on a very interesting concept! Issue is, it ended up being the only take I ended up seeing. With the whole future and present self having some form of resentment towards eachother even if it was just a little bit, or for only a short period of time. I honestly needed a fresh breath of air and it came to my attention as time went on that other readers also needed a breath of fresh air. So uh, I very much saw the opportunity here and took it, with the added bonus of it being in comic form since theres so many fics out there.

Yes my comic is absolutely the opposite of the norm and I plan on keeping it like that, I made it the opposite of the norm for a reason, and the reason definitely shows through the sheer numbers and attention I have been getting on this thing! I am so happy so many people are enjoying the series! I am so glad to heal everyones wounds from the anguish of the usual plotlines haha!

Sidenote, I would actually highly recommend this post by pinetreevillain, read the tags, words things better than I ever could. Not just the OP's tags, all the reblog tags too.

(There may have been fics were the Leos were actually nice to eachother, but either I did not hear of them/see them, or they were just overall not popular enough to be well known and recognized for the good relationship)

I understand that such a fast change in character meanwhile does not happen overnight. This here is probably the biggest issue I have within the series, though I do have a little bit of reasoning.

I am just going to be flat out honest, I personally find it hard for myself to sit and read through something about characters arguing, it makes me weirdly uneasy. Something something about characters who love eachother yelling it out just hits me in a way I try to avoid whoops. So if I find it hard to read something like that, it is even harder for me to write and draw it out myself, there will be no forms of these sorts situations in the series because of that. Though this does tie back into me trying to avoid the norm, having everyone be kind to Leo after the movie is a take you do not see often.

I actually attempted addressing the movie aftermath with Raph and Leo with this comic, it was the whole point on why I made the comic! Because yes! I These two really did need some new take, my own take, on the aftermath. I wanted to show in that comic that Raph is not mad, happy actually, that Leo managed to pull himself together for such an act. Leo proved on that day that he knew what he was doing, how to care for a team, and that he was truly meant for his role as the leader.

Final little point: Lets be honest I dont think anyone will have the guts to even be mad at Leo after he sacrificed himself and his arm to save everyone. How could anyone be mad at that? Outside the fear of loosing him of course

[synnamonroll666]

Wicked Temptation

Pairing: Josh Washington x Fem!Reader Description: You decided to stay in the shed with Josh until dawn, letting Chris and Mike go back to the lodge for some much needed rest. But Josh knows a little secret that you've been hiding for a couple years and unfortunately for you, Josh has no mercy to spare tonight... Warnings: Mutual Pining, Mild Violence, Thigh Riding, Grinding, Edging, Humiliation, Degradation, Strip Tease, BlowJob (Male And Female Receiving), Cock Warming, Teasing, P In V, Creampie, Switch!Josh, Switch!Reader, Bondage??? Shibari??? I Don't Know, I Just Went All Out With This One. 😅 Word Count: 10k!!!!! A/N: This is not only my very first Josh Washington smut fic, but it's also the first time I've ever written a fic 10k words long! I've been working on this since January and let me tell you, it's been a struggle to finish it. It started out as some 2k idea but then I decided, since I was changing fandoms, I might as well go big for my first smut fic for Josh. I've put a lot of work into it between editing it dozens of times and watching that shed scene probably billions of times to get the lines correct. Since I have taken so long to write it and put so much effort into it, it's kind of like my baby now and I'm so excited to share it with all of you. As some of you know, I've been going through quite a lot of shit lately but focusing on this has helped me greatly, and that's another reason why this fic means so much to me. So here's to new beginning, because there will definitely be more of this good stuff to come in the future too! Enjoy! 🖤 Main MasterList: 🖤 Kassie's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @koexchange, @yesitsloulou, @mistmoose, @jasonexo, @fortune-fool02, and @raven-the-cryptid. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

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I followed closely behind Chris and Mike, who had their hands full with a very uncooperative Josh. It had been one hell of a night. First I got chased around by some demented psychopath, then I found a video of my crush of five years being sawed in two; and then I found out that he was actually the psycho all along and he possibly killed one of my close friends, Jessica. I was exhausted, but at least the deadly grip of the cold mountain air around my frame did help to wake me up a bit. I could only think positively at this point. It was the only way to stay sane.

But unfortunately, that did not last long as my thoughts continued to wander down a darker path. It was as if I wasn't even there at all. I had transitioned from reality and found myself trapped within my own racing mind, desperately looking for answers to clarify just what happened on this horrific night. But after a few minutes, Josh yelling in pain brought me out of my dark thoughts.

"Come on, guys…" He whined as his eyes pleaded to us with a look of remorse and guilt. "Seriously — this is crazy, you know?"

"Shut up." Mike spat sternly as he pushed him along the snowy path. It would have looked so beautiful if this was just a late night walk in the woods.

But this wasn't just some late night walk…

Did I feel good about what we were doing? No. But was it necessary? Yes.

I always knew that Josh had some mental health issues since his sisters went missing — I mean, who wouldn't become some level of fucked up from that happening to two people you love. But this — this was something different, and I was beginning to feel very concerned for Josh and our safety.

But as sympathetic as I was towards Josh regarding that situation, it still didn't take away the sting of what he did tonight; especially since me, Chris and Sam had nothing to do with the events that occurred one year ago.

Still — despite the judgmental glares he was given — Josh wasn't going to give up on trying to convince us to free him.

"Chris… Bro…" Josh's eyes met Chris' as he begged for him to have some sort of mercy. After all, they had been best friends since children. But to his surprise, Chris looked away.

"I'm not your bro." Chris spoke lowly in a disappointed tone. And at that moment, I saw Josh's heart break through his eyes. He looked so lost and saddened by Chris' words that it made me want to cry.

Without warning, Mike grabbed Josh's forearm and began pushing him further down the path again, despite Josh digging his heels in the snow to stop him. Josh was a lot bigger than Mike and a lot taller, too. But in this case, Mike's strength won. I figured Josh was weakened due to the blow he took to the head when Mike pistol whipped him.

"Where are we going?" Josh asked — his voice now frantic and full of worry. I could see that he was beginning to panic. "Where are you guys taking me?"

"Locking you up, bro!" Mike revealed as he pushed Josh onto the ground. I wanted to help him back up, since he was tied up and couldn't just simply push himself back to his feet. But I had to hold back; it probably wasn't safe to go near him anyway…

"What?!" Josh shrieked as he struggled to get back up, succeeding after a very weak attempt.

"So you can't do anything stupid before we call the police in the morning."

I couldn't help but agree with Mike's words. It hurt to do, but he was right. Josh was so unpredictable right now, so it was better for all of our safety and Josh's as well, that he got locked up for the rest of the night.

"Come on!" He cried out in another desperate attempt to convince us that he's just an innocent victim in all this. "I didn't do anything—"

"Are you serious, bro?" Despite the dramatic and stressful situation, I literally had to hold back laughter as I remembered Chris declaring only seconds ago that he was no longer his 'bro'.

But that moment was short-lived when Mike piped in…

"You're a God damn murderer is what you are!" He raised his voice as he pushed Josh down once again, his stance becoming dominant and intimidating as he towered over Josh.

I didn't agree with him there. I just couldn't see Josh going as far as killing Jessica. And when Mike told us what had happened — it didn't make sense nor did anything add up. Though I disagreed, I chose to stay silent, not wanting any more fights to occur.

"I didn't do it!" Josh cried as he stood up again. His sorrowful eyes burrowed into Mike's, hoping that he would believe him. "Michael, please! Just listen to me, man! I did not hurt Jessica—"

"Are you insane?!" Chris yelled unexpectedly, surprising us all since he had been fairly quiet for a little while now. "Like really? Do you not understand what you've done?!"

"I'm a healer, man! I bring people together!" Josh's voice began to rise with each word he said, clearly getting frustrated by this whole situation as well. I couldn't blame him… "Not like you assholes!"

His last sentence… It hurt my heart. I had been there for him — I was the one who was there. It made me clench my teeth along with my fists to resist the urge to do something I may have regretted later on.

"That's enough!" Mike finally put his foot down, having enough of Josh's bullshit. But just when I thought it was over — just when I thought that Josh would shut up and we would just get this shit over with, he began to approach me…

"(Y/N)…" He whimpered like a hurt puppy, his sad eyes didn't help either. "Please… You know I wouldn't harm any of you…"

"Josh…" I whined, my voice breaking before I could say anything else. He was only inches away from me now — his face so damn close to mine that I could feel his shaky breath on my cold-bitten skin. Any other day, the warmth would have felt nice on such a cold night. He lowered his head so his mouth was right by my ear.

"Please," he whispered softly. "You know me…"

"That's it!" Merely two seconds after Mike's enraged voice was heard, he was pulling Josh away from me as he begged and cried for my forgiveness. I felt a couple of tears escape my eyes and slowly fall down my cheek, so all I did was look away to hide my pain.

It had only been a peaceful snowfall when we arrived — peaceful like how the night began. But now it was colder, more hectic; a storm much like the one that had erupted during the events of the night. Nothing was peaceful anymore, and I was beginning to wonder if it ever would be again.

"You only see what you wanna see! You're blind!" Josh's rant brought me out of my thoughts again to see Mike pinning Josh face down on the ground. I tried to step in — worried that one of them would get hurt — but Chris put his arm in front of me to stop me from interfering. I knew he was only looking out for me, but it frustrated me greatly.

"Stop talking!" Mike ordered angrily.

"You are— Argh—" Josh struggled to speak as he continued writhing against Mike's hold — but once again, Mike's strength overpowered him.

"Dude!" Chris yelled at Mike, since he was now going too far with his little intimidation tactics. I was glad that at least Chris decided to step in, since he wouldn't allow me to.

"It's not my fault you suckers can't take a joke!" Josh spat bitterly at the three of us and I clenched my fists again until there were angry crescents engraved in my palms, resisting the urge to take advantage of him being pinned on the ground.

"Oh, oh, wait — did I hurt you?" Mike asked when Josh grunted out in pain. Something told me that he didn't care about Josh's well-being though. "Did you just feel a little — little bit of pain right now? I am so, so sorry!"

Mike began pushing Josh's arms into his lower back, causing him to yell out in agony. "Stop it!"

"Mike, please — don't!" I cried out, not wanting any more people to get hurt. I couldn't take it.

"Jesus, dude!" Chris said in disapproval of Mike's actions while Josh continued to yell, "Stop!"

Luckily, Mike listened and lifted Josh back up to his knees.

"Michael… I'm sorry, man…" There was something so genuine in Josh's voice as he spoke — something that only convinced me further that Josh didn't do it… He didn't kill Jessica… "I can't tell you how sorry I am that something happened to Jessica but I swear — I swear to you that I have no idea what happened to her!"

"Shit… Mike, this…" Chris muttered lowly — a look of uncertainty clear on his face as he furrowed his brows."I dunno… Something feels really wrong here, man…"

"Are you joking?" Mike turned around. He looked shocked and… Angry at Chris?

"I–I'm just having a really hard time figuring out that he would — like — do anything to hurt Jess…" Chris explained in a calm manner, despite the look of distress his face held. He clearly didn't want to upset Mike but I knew he felt that this was important enough to bring up.

"Mike…" I spoke up, approaching him slowly. "Did you actually see him murder her? How did he butcher her like you said and drag her away at a speed that you couldn't catch up on at the same time?"

"I saw what he did to her with my own eyes! This—" Mike gestured to his jacket, which was stained with blood. "This is her blood!"

"It just… Something doesn't add up…" I muttered as I backed away slowly.

"Can't we all just get along?" Josh giggled and his change in attitude — his sudden lack of sympathy shocked me. Mike began pulling him to his feet and he winced in pain. "Ow! Dammit!"

"We are not dicking around!" Mike growled in his ear — his tone threatening and harsh.

"This is not right… Nope…" Josh muttered as his brows furrowed together — a sudden disappointment darkening his once sorry eyes. "This is not how it's supposed to go down! You are just a bunch of bullies!"

We all chose to ignore his insults as Mike continued to push him closer to the shed door. My patience was wearing thin and I was honestly getting more and more sick of Josh's shit. And the way he had just reacted to Mike's accusations… It was leading me down another path — the path that told me Josh was guilty…

"You can't just hang out a guy to dry like this, guys… Huh?" He continued to ramble on, putting on what seemed to be a fake, wounded animal act again. "Not like… Not like you got the guts to do anything about it anyway!"

Mike snapped again and pushed him onto the ground once more, only this time a blanket of snow wasn't there to break his fall, since we were now in the shed.

"Oh, stuff it! You're the biggest coward there is!" Chris snarled at Josh, his brows knitted together due to frustration and resentment towards his best — ex-best friend.

"Uh huh?" Josh scoffed. "I did something! I made you believe in the world I created and showed you parts of yourself that you were too afraid to visit!

I couldn't help but shake my head at Josh's gloating while I wondered what had happened to that remorseful, empathetic guy that was here only moments ago.

"You manipulated us, you tricked us, you hurt your friends and you did it all while you hid in the shadows! You're a coward, Josh! That's all you are!" Chris yelled, showing that he officially had enough of Josh's crap. And by that point, I was sure that we all had.

Mike grabbed Josh again, pulled him up and dragged him further into the shed. Once my eyes landed on the stool that was sitting in front of a beam, I knew what was coming. Mike and Chris forced Josh down onto the stool and began unting his hands to retie them around the beam instead. They both told me to stay back but it was hard to do so once they began to hold Josh down and he became erratic as a result.

"Ok, tying me up now! Ok!" Josh acknowledged what they were doing as if he was accepting it, but his body language told me otherwise as he continued to thrash and writhe against his restraints.

"Stay still, man!" Mike demanded as both he and Chris struggled to hold him down and tie his hands back up.

"Right, right, right, right… Still…" Josh parroted and for a brief moment, I thought he was finally going to cooperate…

Man, was I wrong…

"Well, c–can't tie 'em up if they just wiggle around!" Josh shouted as he began squirming around like a child who refused to stay still during time-out.

"Josh, come on!" Chris snarled as he fought Josh to stay still long enough for them to wrap the ropes around his wrists.

"Leave me a little wiggle room, huh?!" Josh continued to squirm as he began to giggle like an immature, defiant little brat. I am ashamed to admit it, but it was painfully hard repressing a giggle of my own at that moment.

"What will it take to shut you up?!" Mike yelled, clearly getting more and more annoyed by the second.

"Ow! Not so tight, ok?! Not so tight, ok…" Josh whined as he winced in pain. Although I doubted that the pain was as severe as he let on.

Then Josh started rambling about plastic ties or something and I zoned out, wondering what was really wrong with him. He clearly wasn't his self anymore and he seemed very, very unhinged at the moment. And then I remembered when Chris said that he was off his meds… He must have been a lot more sick than I thought, and for a lot longer too.

"What… In God's name is he talking about?" Mike muttered to Chris, who was looking as equally confused as both of us.

Chris brought his hand up to his face to rub the bridge of his nose while letting out a stressed sigh. "This is hard to watch…"

"He ever say this kind of shit before?"

"No, I've never seen him like this."

"Maybe he needs some help?" I suggested while glancing over at Josh out of the corner of my eye. "Like, help from a professional."

"Everybody's stupid… Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…" Josh muttered under his breath, moving on from the plastic tie rant and catching all of our attention. "Chris and Ash… Chris is an ass. Ashley's a dumb-dumb!"

"I'm sorry, what did you say?!" Chris raised his voice slightly as the features of his face contorted with anger. He stepped closer to Josh, who had an obnoxious smirk plastered on his bruised face.

"Well, I said you're a dummy, dummy!" Josh laughed and the mocking sound made Chris' fingers curl into fists.

"What is wrong with you?" Chris asked, clenching his fists so tight that the skin on his knuckles turned pale. I wanted to step in, but just as I took a step forward to insert myself between the two, Mike looked in my direction and shook his head.

"Oh, Ashley… Oh…" Josh sighed as his voice trailed off into a breathless whisper as if he began to zone out. But unfortunately, that didn't last long. "Oh, I never imagined in my wildest dreams that you liked me!" He teased in a mocking tone as his smirk broadened with pride in the way he was taunting his friend.

"Stop." Chris warned and Josh started to make obnoxious kissing noises at Chris.

"Do you know what that sound is? It's the sound of never kissing Ashley, you pussy!"

"Stop!" Chris warned again, rasing his voice louder than before.

"Yeah, you know? Maybe you should let Mike sleep with Jess! I mean, at least he's got some notches in his belt! He'll treat! Her! Right!" With each word in his last sentence, he thrusted his hips in the air as if he was trying to fuck it. I couldn't peel my eyes away. My mind began to wonder what it would feel like if he was thrusting into me that way — how his cock would feel slamming into me at that angle.

"You're fucking pathetic, Christopher!" Josh yelled, knocking me out of my little fantasy.

"I'm going to beat his fucking head in!" Chris growled while winding back the wooden plank he was holding, as if he was actually going to do it.

"Chris! No!" I yelled without even giving it a thought, worried that he was serious.

"Don't listen to him! Not worth it!" Mike said as he put his hand up to get Chris' attention. Chris looked at Mike and then me before slowly lowering the plank, looking pretty embarrassed by his outburst.

"You know what, Josh?" Chris' voice lowered a couple octaves as he spoke — his eyes growing dark with resentment as he did so. He let the plank slip from his fingers to hit the floor with an ear piercing thud. "I'm not keeping your little secret anymore. You are the one who's pathetic!"

Me and Mike glanced at each other in confusion, neither of us having a single idea what Chris was talking about. Though we both instantly noticed the way Josh narrowed his eyes at Chris, growing cold with anger and what seemed like a bit of fear.

He muttered one word — his voice so low that we could barely hear him, "Don't."

"No, no — I think I will!" Chris began to yell again — his frustration clearly exploding into pure anger as he spoke. "How can you sit there and talk about me and Ash, when you've been sitting on your ass and pining away for (Y/N) for the last two fucking years?!"

My mouth fell open after receiving this new information. My heart began to race, picking up speed so fast that I thought I would drop dead of a fucking heart attack. I replayed the words in my head a few times, trying to decide whether or not I heard Chris right or if it was actually real. I couldn't believe it — I just couldn't.

"Don't!" Josh's voice began to sound more like a feral growl than anything, shooting daggers at Chris with his eyes. The air became thick with tension fast and it became all too awkward just standing there, especially since I was the reason for this new argument that had sprouted between the two boys.

"No! You started this, so now I'm going to fucking finish it!"

Chris stepped forwards towards Josh in an aggressive manner, almost seeming as if he was going to punch him. I didn't necessarily think he would and I knew Mike didn't either, but just as a precaution, Mike stepped towards Chris and put his arm in front of him to block him. Chris looked at Mike, his eyes seemed filled with pain due to how the night had carried out. Mike gave him a sympathetic look and stepped back, once Chris seemed a bit more calm. But then Josh let out another obnoxious laugh.

"Hey, Mike!" Josh spoke up but we all stayed silent due to fear of what he might say next. "Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike!"

"What?!" Mike growled impatiently as his head snapped in Josh's direction to give him the most brutal glare.

"What happened with Jess, Mike?"

"You know what happened."

"No. No, I–I don't." Josh stammered awkwardly — the tone of his voice and the stutter adding just a little bit more of doubt within me, though I didn't want to admit it to myself or the others. "I've got a problem, Mike. I don't remember killing Jess."

"Chirst…" Mike muttered in frustration. I could tell that he was trying not to snap and I felt so bad for him.

"I mean — like — I feel like I would remember killing her, you know? She's so soft and she's probably got, like, a really tight bod—" He flashed a smirk and for a moment, I felt a bit — no — a lot of jealousy surging through my veins due to his filthy words about my deceased friend. I went to say something — anything to get him to shut up but Mike beat me to it.

"Shut your fucking mouth!" He roared as he pointed his gun right at Josh's head. Josh's mouth fell agape in shock as he stared down the barrel of the gun, quiet for the first time in awhile. Panic ran through me as I subconsciously grabbed Mike's arm to stop him but he pushed me back with his free hand before placing it back on the gun with the other, holding the firearm in a death grip.

To my surprise and Mike's as well, Chris swung the plank he was holding down and hit Mike in the arms, forcing him to drop the gun as he let out a yell in pain and shock.

"Seriously?" Mike grunted as he straightened back up, narrowing his eyes at a very confused Chris.

"W–What?" Chris seemed surprised by Mike's reaction, which was odd to me, because who wouldn't be pissed off at somebody for doing that?

"Did you think I was going to shoot him?" Mike questioned him and I chose to stay silent although my mind was screaming 'yes'.

"I–I dunno…" Chris stammered as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. I could tell he was starting to feel dumb due to his actions.

"Come on, Chris! You know me better than that!" Mike scolded him. I wanted to step in — to tell Mike that it was just a mistake. But before I could say anything to make the situation better, Josh had to open his big mouth again.

"Yeah, Chris! You know me better than that!" He mocked with laughter heavy in his voice. I turned and gave him a glare that clearly said 'shut the fuck up' before turning back to the conversation.

"Ah… Yeah… Well, next time, just give me a heads up, alright?" Chris asked and I could tell that he was still a bit startled by what happened. I understood where he was coming from — he just didn't want to see his friend get hurt.

"Oh, you poor little piggies! You can't even get your 'good cop, bad cop' routine to work! Leave it to the pros, bros!"

At that moment, I had enough. I no longer found Josh funny — he was getting on my nerves and I was tired of everything. I turned to the smug bastard and didn't even think twice about what I was about to say.

"Oh, shut up!" I snapped, clearly surprising everyone in the room, including myself. Josh's eyes widened as his mouth fell ajar. But not only five seconds later, his eyes narrowed with mischief and his lips turned up into another smirk.

"Oh, really?! You really, really want me to? A–And what about you, (Y/N)? Huh?" I felt a chill go down my spine as he said my name, knowing that this wasn't going to end well. "A little bit of advice: You should probably keep a lock on your diary."

I froze completely still as if I was paralyzed from fear and embarrassment. I remembered each dirty thought about Josh that I had written in that diary and I winced.

"W–What?" Was the only word I could speak out of disbelief.

"Fuck, with that many pages, you could publish a God damn porn novel!" He laughed and I cringed even more, falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of eternal embarrassment with each word he said. "Or is it a movie you want to make?"

He wiggled his brows as he licked his lower lip, eyes darkening as they traveled up and down my form for a brief moment. Luckily, Chris noticed how tense I was and decided to step in.

"O–Ok, that's enough!" He shouted at Josh and he responded with a sly smirk.

"What? She wants it! Just read the dozens of dirty thoughts she had written in her little book. Fuck, I should be getting paid for how much she used me in her naughty little stories!"

"Josh, shut the fuck up!" Mike's voice came out like a roar as he stepped closer towards the bound man in an attempt to intimate him.

"And I saw your needy eyes oogling my junk as I humped the air! Don't pretend, (Y/N)! Don't deny what you're dying for!"

"Alright, everybody shut up!" Mike screamed so loud that it almost didn't sound like him. We all froze in shock, since we had never seen him this angry before — not even after every time him and Emily would fight. "Chris, (Y/N), you guys go back to the lodge and make sure everything's alright. I'll stay here with this lunatic until the morning."

The first thought in my head was to protest. Not only was I worried about leaving Josh alone with Mike for Josh's safety against Mike's anger, but I was also worried about what Josh would say about me to Mike. I wondered just how much of my diary he had read and winced again when I thought about the dirty things I had written. I opened my mouth to reject Mike's plan but instantly got cut off.

"Oooo, sleepover!" Josh piped in before I could say a thing to Mike — a childish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "C–Can we order pizz–ah?"

Me, Chris and Mike all let out an audible sigh and I resisted the urge to smack the smile right off Josh's face. Chris grabbed my arm and lightly tugged me in the direction of the exit, but I pulled away, leaving Chris cocking his head and arching his brow in confusion.

"Listen — you go back to the lodge with Chris. I'll stay here with him." I offered as I approached Mike and he narrowed his eyes at me, seemingly equally as confused as Chris was.

"No. I can handle Josh. It's fine." Mike spoke calmly yet his eyes still told me that he was wary of my offer.

"Mike, you've had a rough night and Josh will just antagonize you until dawn if you stay. You deserve to rest." I placed my hand on his shoulder while looking into his eyes to show my sincerity. "I can handle Josh for the rest of the night. It's no big deal."

He raised a brow while chewing on the inside of his cheek, contemplating my offer. Finally, after an awkward moment of silence, Mike sighed and nodded his head in agreement.

"Alright. We'll be back first thing in the morning, ok?" He said and I nodded as I let go of his shoulder.

"Ooooooo, a sleepover with (Y/N)! That's even better than with Mr. Grumpy Face! Fuck pizza! Let's skip it and go straight to the pillow fight in our underwear!" My jaw dropped as my attention snapped over to Josh, who was wearing a big smirk — so proud of what he had just said. I couldn't see Chris and Mike's faces, since my eyes were too busy trying to kill Josh with a death stare — but due to the awkward silence that instantly filled the room, I could imagine that they held expressions similar to my own.

"Are you sure?" I heard Mike whisper over my shoulder. I slowly turned to face him but my eyes stayed glued to the floor, being too embarrassed to look anybody in the eyes at this moment.

"Yes, Mike. It's ok." I sighed as I brought my hand up to my face to massage the bridge of my nose.

"Here," to my surprise, Mike handed me his gun, cocking it as he did so. "Just in case."

"I don't think I'll need it but thank you." I said and he nodded at me before giving Josh a 'be good' glare, then turning his heel and heading towards the exit of the shed.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." Chris smiled at me awkwardly and then followed Mike to the door.

"Goodnight, guys." I called out as I sat down on a nearby stool, turning my attention to the man bound before me. This was going to be a long night…

"Alright, you squirrely little fuck. It's just you and me." I uttered while glancing at Josh out of the corner of my eye, feeling rather frustrated with the way he was behaving and quite obviously embarrassed by the words he had just spat out at me in front of my friends. A few minutes of unexpected silence had passed which had surprised me greatly. Unfortunately, that silence didn't last.

"(Y/N)?" Josh spoke shyly and I instantly winced at the sound of his suspiciously calm voice.

"What?" I growled as I glared at him through narrowed eyes.

"I want pizza!" Josh whined like a bratty child. Though his voice was laced with a child-like innocence, I could see the evil mischief in his green eyes — now appearing grey under the dim light of the room.

"Oh, not this again!" I muttered as I rubbed my hands down my face, feeling so tired already of babysitting this little brat. But I had to protect what little privacy I had left and to keep the boys from fighting again. I just had to be smart with this. I looked away, hoping that if I ignored it, it would eventually shut up. But I was greatly wrong.

"Please, please please please, please, please, please, pleeeeeeeeeease!" He continued to beg until I finally had enough.

"Fine!" I snapped as I took my phone out of my pocket.

"Yay!" Josh cheered excitedly as his eyes lit up and his lips parted to make a toothy grin.

I walked into the middle of the room and set my phone down in the middle of the floor before walking back to my stool and sitting back down. Josh stared at my phone a moment and then turned his head to look at me, confused by what I had just done.

"Go ahead — order your pizza." I said with a cocky smirk growing on my face.

"W–What?" He yelped in shock, which made me feel quite satisfied.

"Aww, what's the matter? You can't? Well, I guess you're not getting your pizza then!" I teased him in a whiny baby voice as I stuck my lower lip out to pout.

"What?! Why?!" He shrieked at my mockery and I just chuckled darkly.

"Well — first off, the pizza guy can't get here because they don't deliver this far — genius. And second, consider it payback for all the shit you put us through tonight!" I subconsciously raised my voice at the man–child before me and he only responded with a roll of his eyes and a scoff as if I was the one in the wrong.

"Oh, for fuck sakes, (Y/N)! It was just a prank!" He sneered and I scoffed at his remark, feeling shocked and angered that he had the audacity to say such a thing. "And I didn't even want the damn pizza! I was just trying to piss you off."

"Oh, was it?! Well, I don't think it was very funny! First, you put on a show of you getting sawed in half for me, Chris and Ashley to get traumatized from; and then you chase me around the lodge while pretending to be some stupid movie serial killer?!" I vented out my rant, feeling my body heat up with rage as I did so. I didn't even notice how hard I clenched my fists, cutting angry crescents into my palms as my knuckles turned white.

I chose to ignore his confession about the pizza, since I knew this. He knew that I couldn't get one for him at the moment, so there was no other reason for him to ask. But I decided not to say anything about the matter, because I was too pissed off about what he had said prior to the confession.

"Come on! You have to admit that was pretty epic!" He gloated with a laugh with a look on his face as if he was remembering the events of the night, all crafted by his hand.

"Oh, fuck off!" I growled through gritted teeth, growing pretty close to punching him right in the face.

"If I'm being honest, I didn't expect you to react the way you did. And here I thought your feelings were only sexual." He said with the same smug smirk plastered on his face. But something had changed; there was a sudden hint of softness laced within his eyes and voice — something he was trying to mask by his cockiness but slowly began to break through the cracks only a tiny bit, just enough for me to see it.

I shuddered as the memory replayed itself in my mind. There I stood, helpless and screaming while banging on a cage-like door, begging for mercy on my two friends. I couldn't choose, so Chris had to make the decision — a decision that ended with me weeping on Chris' chest over the loss of a love I never got the chance to have, while the man I wished to experience it with screamed in pure agony as his body got torn in half — or so I thought it did.

I turned my head away without saying another word, mostly because I could not trust my voice enough to actually speak. I stared at the door as if I actually took an interest in it, just to avoid eye contact with the man. Of all the ways he had to find out about my feelings for him, it had to be this way; I was so mad and embarrassed.

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Some time had passed and the temperature had only seemed to drop lower and — despite my anger and embarrassment heating me up — it didn't stop the feeling of a thousand little needles poking into me all over my body as the harsh cold embraced me. Things had been completely silent, which I appreciated because I knew that I would not be able to speak without my teeth chattering. And I knew that Josh would only mock me for that. I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging my torso tightly in an attempt to warm myself and stop myself from shivering before Josh took notice.

"Cold?" I heard him finally speak up.

'Shit!' I cursed in my head. 'So much for trying to warm up before he noticed.'

"Y–Yeah…" I mumbled, still not daring to look at Josh after the things he had said. Lord knows my face was probably as red as a rose.

"Well, why don't you come over here and warm yourself up on my lap?" My eyes widened at his words and I scowled at the tone of his voice; I could practically hear his smirk in it.

"Oh, God—"

"I want him to be the reason I feel warm in the winter. I want to melt into his arms as he makes love to me and make the harsh winter feel like a beautiful summer." I froze as my eyes widened in terror when I recognized those words from my diary. "What? I–I'm just goin' by the book!"

"Just— How much of my diary did you read?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"Hmmm… Well, I started at a couple months ago and ended at: 'And then Josh bent down to place a gentle kiss on my clit before dragging his soft tongue between my folds.'"

'Shit! He read about my dream last night!' My heart began to race with humiliation and the regret of asking my question as he recited every word from my diary, dragging out and exaggerating every word like he was a porn star.

"And I kept calling out his name. 'Oooh, Josh! Harder! More! Dominate me! Oooh, Daddy!'" I jumped up from my seat as he moaned out those words, shocked and appalled by his lies and behavior.

"I did not write that!" I screeched in anger as my body heated up with rage, making it easy to forget about the painful cold.

"Oh, admit it, little kitty! Those words might not be down in your little book, but you and me both know damn well that that's what you hear in your head." He snapped back and I stood in silence. I couldn't deny it because he was right. Suddenly, a wicked idea popped into my head as my lips twisted into a mischievous grin.

"Why so creative with it, Josh? Maybe instead of those words being in my head, those are the words that are in your head!" I accused as I pointed a finger at him.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, baby." He scoffed while rolling his eyes. "Why don't you just be honest with yourself, honey? You want to ride the Josh express and be taken to the bone zone! Just admit it! Come on, (Y/N)! Admit i—"

"Fine!" I yelled, interrupting him and, to my surprise, his eyes widened as if he was a bit stunned by my outburst. "I want to fuck you! Alright?! I've dreamed about you doing things to me every fucking night since we fucking met! And I can't take anymore!"

His shocked expression formed into a cocky one as his lips turned up into a smirk again. He just stared at me for a moment in silence as I tried to look everywhere but in his direction, terrified to make eye contact after my naughty little confession.

"We're alone here; Chris and Mike went back to the lodge, so is there really any reason to hold back?" His words pierced into my mind like a fishing hook, stabbing that curious part of my brain and reeling me into his sick grasp. I shyly looked up at him and bit the inside of my cheek, not knowing what to do or say.

His eyes darkened further with lust as they peered up at me while his tongue slipped out to lick his lower lip before sucking it between his teeth. He knew exactly what he was doing — he was killing me with temptation. But was he just toying with my emotions? He was hell bent on humiliating everybody else tonight, so what made me so different? For all I knew, there was a camera hidden somewhere to humiliate me as well. I heaved a deep sigh, feeling tired and quite frankly sick of caring. I took a few steps closer to the bound man in front of me before making my very first move.

I stopped right in between his open legs and raised my hand to his head, running my fingers through his surprisingly soft curls and then clenching my digits into a fist, pulling his head back and forcing him to open his mouth as he let out a hiss in pain. I took the opportunity to clash my lips against his and slide my tongue into his mouth, pushing it harshly against his with much need and passion.

A wild fight for dominance began as I lowered myself onto his lap and started to grind myself on his thigh. The sensation it brought me was dull but just enough to add a little more fuel to the fire and dampen my panties. As our mouths explored each other, my other hand roamed his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the button-up shirt he wore, that I so badly wanted to tear off.

It was then that I realized I couldn't do that without taking off his overalls first. And even then, I had some layers that needed removing as well. I pulled away and he let out a groan of protest while looking up at me with needy eyes. I couldn't help but smile down at him before unzipping my jacket and letting it slide off my shoulders to hit the ground. Understanding what I was doing, Josh's eyes lit up with excitement like a puppy watching his master prepare his food. He watched as I took off my shirt and pants, throwing them on the floor in a messy pile, along with my discarded winter jacket.

Leaving my bra and panties on to tease him, I stepped closer towards him and ran my finger down one of the straps of his overalls before popping its button open, letting it fall to reveal more of his shoulder. I repeated the same actions with the second strap and then pulled the overalls down, just passed his knees. I took a moment to admire his already huge erection — which was pressing firmly against his boxers as if it was dying to escape from its fabricated prison — before slowly working on the buttons of his flannel shirt.

"Ah! Would you hurry up!" He whined as I took my sweet time, taking at least three seconds to pop each button open.

"Ah, ah, ah—" I scolded teasingly. "Be patient. After all, you deserve a little teasing after the shit you pulled tonight."

He responded with another groan and I couldn't stop myself from chuckling at his childish nature. I pulled his shirt open but realized that he had a shirt on underneath — one that could not be opened.

"Oh… I guess you'll just have to keep wearing that." I commented and he gave me a questioning look.

"Why?"

"Because you're tied up."

"For fuck sake." He grumbled with a roll of his eyes. "Why can't you just fucking untie me?"

"You know why. Besides, it's ridiculously cold outside, so extra layers are a good thing." 

Then I kneeled down, ignoring the shock of the cold floor touching my bare knees. I ran a single finger over the throbbing erection through his boxers and he visibly shivered as a reaction. Smiling with satisfaction due to his response, I decided to give him a little more by darting my tongue out and lightly dragging it over his cock, the same way I had done with my finger only moments ago. He let out a soft moan as he let his eyes fall shut, savoring the moment the best he could.

I then hooked my fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers and began pulling them down. He responded to my actions by lifting his hips up, allowing me to pull them down his legs and finally release his cock into the cold night's air. I stared in amazement at his thick length. Josh was a big guy — 6'2" tall to be exact — so I expected there to be quite some girth in his size. But fuck — I thought shit like this was only possible in pornography.

Noticing some of the pre‐cum building up in the slit of his swollen tip, I couldn't stop myself from darting my tongue out to lap it up in one quick sweep. Then I wrapped my lips around his head and sucked on it as hard as I could, earning a deep satisfied groan from him as he jerked his hips up to force me to go deeper — but I pushed them back down with my hands.

"Fuck, if you don't give me something— anything—"

"You'll do what?" I interrupted after pulling his tip out of my mouth with a loud pop. I smirked at him as he let out a strained whine — now completely dominated and owned by me. "Fine. Since you've been such a good boy, I'll give you a little more — how does that sound?"

"Oh— Oh, yes please!" He begged desperately — his voice laced with a pathetic whine

as his eyebrows turned up, making him appear far more innocent than both me and him knew him to be.

I stood up and reached behind my back to unhook my bra and then allowed it to slide down my arms and hit the cold floor beneath me. After letting his hungry eyes linger on my 'girls' for a minute, I turned around so my back was facing him before letting my fingers hook into the waistband of my panties. I made sure to bend over and push my ass out to give him a great show as I slowly pulled them down and let them join my bra on the floor. I straightened up and twirled around, only to be surprised by the dangerous look in Josh's eyes. They were dark and full of pure lust and hunger; it made my core ache for him.

I slowly walked over to him as he licked his lips impatiently like a starving wolf waiting to devour his next meal. The sound of my bare feet slapping against the cold concrete went insync with each passing second, adding to the growing anticipation that was driving me wild. I finally stood just an inch away, staring down at the hungry man before me and admiring his bound form. I buried my hand in his thick hair again but this time, I pulled his head forward, forcing his lips to crash into my pussy.

Taking the hint like a good little boy, his tongue began to work away at my mound, flicking the little bundle of nerves at a rather fast pace. The sensation was incredible — I felt my whole body heat up in a matter of seconds due to the burning arousal his tongue was bringing me. And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, he wrapped his soft lips around my clit to suckle on it as his tongue did it's magic.

Tears began to pool into the corners of my eyes as I felt my orgasm fast approaching. I couldn't fucking believe that I was this close already. His green eyes peered up at me, burning with nothing more than determination to make me cum as his brows furrowed. That sight alone was enough to push me closer to the edge — but when he started moaning, my legs were turning into jelly.

I tossed my head back and moaned so loudly that I wouldn't have been surprised if the others at the lodge could have heard me. My heart was beating so fast that I could have bet that it was going to explode out of my chest. This felt so amazing. I felt so free — hell, so alive! But although I was so close to my climax that I so desperately wanted and needed, I didn't want to cum like this. Not yet, at least…

I pulled away and he let out yet another groan of frustration. Lifting his chin so he would be forced to look up at me, I admired my work, taking in the image of his mouth and chin glistening with my juices as he licked his lips to taste my leftovers. Deciding that I didn't want to waste another second and that it was time, I placed my hands on his shoulders to steady myself before allowing myself to sink down onto his lap — but not all the way. He wasn't getting this that easy.

The stinging sensation of his tip pushing into me and stretching me out was so fucking pleasurable that it was nearly impossible not to continue going all the way, but I wanted to rile him up — I wanted this to last. He let out an annoyed grunt when I stopped and smirked down at him. His eyes shot daggers into mine, gleaming at me with want and frustration and nothing more. I couldn't help but chuckle at how pathetic he was at that moment — how he teased me for being such a needy little slut and now that's exactly what he had become.

"I bet it's killing you right now, being tied up and not in control for once. How does it feel?" I chuckled darkly as I sat completely still, enjoying the tip of his cock twitching within me with much need. But to my surprise, his lips turned up into a dark grin as he let out a combination of a laugh and a growl.

"Y–You think I'm not in control? Oh! Ooooh, you naive little bird! You are so wrong!"

Before I could say anything, he jerked his hips up, forcing each inch of his length into me within a second until his tip slammed into my cervix. I cried out in shock as my core stung with pain due to the lack of preparation for his size until that pain melted into nothing but pure pleasure. He was so much bigger than me, it was overwhelming.

His cock continued to twitch within me — on purpose to tease me or with arousal, I'm unsure. I felt my mind fog with pleasure as I began to fall sedated from my arousal before remembering what I was planning to do. I wasn't here to fall to submission at the hands of this man but to teach the little brat a very valuable lesson: Don't fuck with me.

I gripped his shoulders tightly, digging my nails into the fabric of his shirt for leverage before lifting myself up and slamming myself down hard, knocking unexpected moans from both of our mouths. I wasted no time to start bobbing myself up and down at an incredibly fast pace, bringing the needy sonuvabitch to the edge of his orgasm and then stopping at the very second I felt his shoulders tense up and his cock twitch within me.

A frustrated growl left his lips as he glared at me. I responded with a cocky smirk before lifting myself up again — as slowly as possible — and slamming down again, making the stool beneath us creak a little. Burying my fingers into his soft locks again, I forced his head upwards so I could make eye contact with him as I tortured him. I ground my hips down onto his, rotating them in a circle and his eyes widened — almost pleading to me while he pursed his lips as if he was trying to stifle his moans.

"Ah, ah! If you want more, you have to let me hear it!" I teased before clenching my hand that was tangled in his hair into a fist, pulling on his locks hard and forcing his mouth open.

He openly and shamelessly moaned for me as tears formed in his eyes. I chuckled at his neediness and then leaned down to let my lips graze the side of his neck before giving the sensitive skin a little nip. And I have to admit, I really enjoyed the sound of him gasping in shock at my action.

I then began planting slow kisses along the length of his neck until my lips pressed against the sweet spot right under his jawline to feel his racing pulse quickening by the second. After giving him another little nip and earning another cute, little gasp from him; I began giving him more wet, hard, open-mouth kisses; repeating the same patterns up and down his neck.

After a couple of minutes of completely savoring his delicious taste, I decided to end the torture on a wild note and licked a stripe up his throat from the base to his jaw, feeling the vibrations of his sweet melodic moans while he lifted his head to give me more access as I did so.

I pulled away slightly to look into his wide eyes and smirked before planting a quick kiss on his lips. It was difficult to keep myself from giggling at his shocked expression from my most recent actions. Now that the torture was over, it was time to get straight to business. I lifted myself up and sank back down again, deciding to move at a more neutral pace to savor the moment. I never thought that I'd be here, fucking Joshua fucking Washington, so I was going to milk every second out of this special occasion.

I squeezed his shoulders tightly as I pushed myself up, his cock sliding out of my walls until only the tip remained. I slammed back down, moaning as his head hit right into my g-spot. The way his eyes fluttered shut and his head lolled back as I slammed myself down sent chills straight down my spine. I had wanted this for so long — too long. And I definitely wasn't done with my little teasing game.

I lifted up again and held still in my position, earning a frustrated groan from my lover. Only his tip remained within me, leaving an empty feeling within my core as it ached for what was no longer there. I wanted to absolutely rail him until he was speechless — the pleasure that I so desperately craved just within reach. I felt the speed of my heartbeat increase with each passing second. The cold night's air dragged its chilling fingers down my back, sending chills down my spine and awaking goosebumps upon my skin. I wanted this so, so bad.

But I had to stay strong — I had to keep control.

I swallowed thickly and took a deep breath in an attempt to stifle my growing arousal for a bit longer. But just when I finally regained the little bit of control that had been slipping through my fingers, Josh let out another frustrated growl before his eyes burrowed deeply into mine with anger.

"That's it!" He yelled and before I could react, he jerked his hips upwards, forcing his thick shaft deep into my hole. I couldn't hold back — it was too much. I let my head fall back as a moan pushed passed my lips. My walls stretched and clenched around him, swallowing his length within my heat and savoring the stinging pleasure it offered me.

He continued to buck his hips into mine, his strength and speed overwhelming me in an orgasmic bliss. I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice my hand traveling below my waist to play with my sensitive mound that was swelling for attention. Well — I didn't notice until Josh pointed it out, of course.

"Oh, yes! Good girl!" He praised my actions — his voice dipping a few octaves lower than before, only pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy. "Touch yourself for Daddy!"

His words sent a buzz to my mind that no alcohol could replicate. It was as if he was casting a spell on me, and each word he spoke had me falling deeper and deeper into his grasp.

I knew that there was no escape now. After hours of trying to run away, the killer had finally caught his prey — and I was oh, so willing to be his helpless victim.

"You are so, so wet right now." He whispered in my ear, a light chuckle on the edge of his tongue. "You're such a slut for me."

I sobbed at his harsh words and he let out an evil laugh.

"Come on — I wanna hear you say it."

"I–I'm — ah!"

I could barely even speak under his cruel gaze. It was as if his bold eyes had me frozen in place, only allowing me to let out moans and uneven breaths as I approached my climax. But just as I thought I had gotten off the hook from disobeying Josh's orders, he slammed his hips up in what felt like a new angle, pushing his cock deeper inside of me and pressing it so hard against my g-spot that I literally saw stars. I barely let out a squeak as my breath caught in my throat, trapping any sound from escaping me.

"I. Said. Say it!" He growled through gritted teeth. His eyes were growing in size with what I thought was anger, pupils dilating and nearly covering his light green irises completely.

"I–I–I'm your s–s–s–slut–t!" I struggled to say in a strained voice. I felt so small under his judgmental gaze, but I assumed that was what he wanted. Though his features softened at my weak declaration and he smiled sweetly — so sweet it almost made me cry.

"That's right — you're my precious little slut." He cooed lovingly. "Good girl."

With that being said, he began to move again. His movements were slow at first, but his pace quickly picked up to a speed that I thought was damn impossible. My trembling fingers gripped his shoulders as I felt myself nearing the end. Even he began to shiver as his once steady breaths became uneven and deep, telling me that he must have been close as well.

I wrapped an arm around his neck as I placed my finger on my clit once again. We remained in eye contact — foreheads pressed together as we shared breaths — while my finger quickened its pace in fast little circles over my throbbing mound.

But then, it happened — my climax covered my body like a tsunami and drowned me in a sea of intoxicating pleasure. It was as if a spark had lit within my core and spread throughout my body as fast as a wildfire; it was magical. I could barely even hear myself scream out as blood rushed to my ears and made my heartbeat the only sound they could comprehend.

I was lucky that I just barely came out of my post–orgasm daze just in time to see Josh releasing within me. His eyes squeezed shut as his head lolled back and his mouth fell wide open while he let out a moan that was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

It was an image that I had imagined hundreds of times, but the real thing could never compare to any fantasy I had ever conjured up in my mind — and I'd treasure it forever.

"Are you… Ok?" I heard Josh whisper. His voice was now soft and breathless, soothing me in my fragile state.

I let out a hum in response, not bothering to lift my head from where it rested on his shoulder or speak words that were bound to be pronounced wrong due to my shaky voice. I was too tired to do anything at that moment. I felt him beginning to soften inside of me and I let out relaxed sigh while closing my eyes.

"No…" Josh whispered again — his tone now more concerned and sympathetic. I finally lifted my head to meet his gaze and noticed that his eyes looked just as sympathetic as his voice sounded — so sad and remorseful. "I mean, are you ok from the prank? I'm so sorry."

His voice broke on the last sentence, and for the first time that night, he looked as if he was going to cry. My heart felt heavy for him. He seemed so broken and messed up since his sisters went missing. How could I blame him for wanting us to feel a tiny bit of the same pain he felt? I decided to just brush off my feelings now — for his sake. I let out a soft laugh and nodded my head slowly.

"Well, Josh — one thing's for sure: you are going to make one hell of a film producer." I chuckled while brushing the loose strands of hair out of his eyes. Josh's eyes widened while his mouth fell open dramatically as he let out an over-exaggerated gasp.

"D–Does this mean you actually liked my prank?!"

I giggled at his childish behavior. I didn't want to admit it, but it was probably a little too late for holding back now. I heaved a defeated sigh before speaking my confession.

"If I'm being honest, your prank was actually kind of — really impressive." I reluctantly admitted, thinking back to all the things he somehow managed to pull off by himself.

"I fucking knew it!" He gloated as that too familiar smirk returned to his lips. I rolled my eyes while letting out a huff of laughter.

"Don't get so cocky.* I narrowed my eyes at him — though the smile on my face most likely told him that I wasn't as angry as I was prior to our fuck. "Honestly, I'm not angry anymore. but that doesn't mean I fully forgive or trust you again — not yet, at least."

"What? Just little old me?" He whispered so quiet it was barely audible, while giving me a look of pure innocence. "Just little old me, tied up here and helpless?"

I shook my head as my smile reluctantly broadened. "Keep acting cute like that and I might just have to untie you."

"Oh — so, it's working?" His lips curved up into a sly smirk and I rolled my eyes again while letting out a huff of laughter.

Finally — after so long — everything had finally melted into silence. Josh just gazed into my eyes lovingly, without saying a word. I felt so calm — so peaceful. I laid my head on his shoulder and relaxed again. Despite the cold air chilling my body to the bone and the feeling of warm liquid turning cool between my thighs, I felt so content to just stay on his lap the whole night.

But then I remembered something important: I could only do that until dawn, since Josh would most likely end up getting arrested then. I was grateful for the long moment of silence, because it gave me time to think.

While thinking, I must have lifted up my head without realizing because when I barely came out of my thoughts, Josh was staring at me with a puzzled expression. I barely reacted to him as my mind went elsewhere again.

"Hey… Do you have the keys for the cable car?" I asked after a couple of very quiet minutes — my voice just above a whisper as I continued to stay lost in my thoughts.

"Yeah... Why?" His face studied mine while his brows furrowed and lips pursed from confusion.

I continued to think for a few seconds. What I was thinking of was quite reckless and dangerous, but in the end, it might have been worth it. Finally deciding on what I was going to do, my lips turned up into a sly smile as I studied his beautiful features that were contorted with confusion, knowing that what I was going to say about going to change the butterfly effect of tonight drastically.

"Let's get the fuck out of here."

》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

You made it to the end! Good for you! I hope you enjoyed it! 😃 What was your favorite part of the story? Feel free to let me know in the comments! I love getting feedback! Oh, and if this fic does well, I might just write a sequel someday... 👀

[souryogurt64]

I enjoyed your essays and i feel that they were things you should be proud of having made

Ok yes I am proud of the essays. 

However, at this point, I have said basically everything I wanted to say in them and I don’t really know if I want to write any more of them. 

I also intended to become a music journalist someday when I started the zine. I don’t really want to become a music journalist anymore because it seems like it actually sucks. 

I also know I will never be able to achieve that, because I was recruited to market AI before ChatGPT was a thing and the overall public developed a very deep hatred for AI and anyone associated with it. 

While this comes with its own challenges, I thrive in tech startup environments and the career I have achieved is incredible and more than I could have ever hoped for considering my age and educational background.

However, the main issue is that very frequently, I get plagiarized, or people take an incredibly inappropriate amount of credit for things I have worked hard to achieve, in order to very successfully further their own endeavors. 

I have not been really good at turning the essays into some kind of huge success for myself, and that’s what I want. I deliberately do a lot of things to keep the essays contained to a certain degree. I have known multiple people personally who achieved a high level of indie success, and I have seen the horrible stuff they went through because of it, and I do not want that kind of circus in my life, especially considering the fact that I am happy with where I am professionally. 

However, it is still incredibly hurtful and upsetting to be taken advantage of like this over and over when so much time and love goes into these essays. 

For example, someone on Tumblr who does not like me plagiarized my first Panic essay, inserted a bunch of mean digs at me being crazy in it, posted it on Reddit, and got more upvotes than I got views. 

A famous YouTuber with over 500K subscribers based a video around my essays, inserted a dig at me into the video, and then got 155K views on this video. A real journalist that was interviewed for the emo history book commented on this video saying how amazing and well-researched it was. 

A girl who ran a podcast interviewed my favorite writer, very obviously implied to him during the interview she found all his old articles and all this lore about him on her own and had been a fan of his since the 2000s, and then advertised this podcast in my ask box. The guy who wrote the aforementioned book also interviewed him and like I can’t prove these people read my essays but the timing is certainly, well, suspicious. I know I do not own or invent this information but given how obscure it is and the fact she was probably advertising herself in my asks it is pretty obvious what happened here. These essays aren’t just one google search that anybody could have found, putting all of that together and finding all of those sources was a ton of work. 

Finally, I don’t want to give a lot of details about this out of respect, but someone I used to be friends with heavily used the zine to get a job in music and meet a member of MCR. I personally felt like during our involvement, which ended about a year before this happened and because of the following, she intentionally misrepresented the percentage of labor she was actually doing, pushed a lot of “dirty work” like transcription onto me in order to obtain all the benefits of networking with publicists and musicians without doing the work, and sabotaged the most important interview I ever did with this specific goal in mind. 

Everybody seems to think this kind of thing is completely OK and it’s OK to treat me this way because like just a crazy juvenile fangirl that needs mental help so I don’t matter and I didn’t do any real work, whereas they’re LEGITIMATE and SERIOUS and COOL so it’s okay to steal my ideas and my research to further their own shit. I am getting really sick of it and it hurts my feelings. 

I also had a lot of bad and stressful things happen to me recently (grandma dying unexpectedly, dumb injury, best friend at my job getting laid off, little brother needing emergency surgery essentially on my birthday, cat shelter being closed) and privating the essays is something pointless I can control to make myself feel better. 

[blacksapphrodite]

Including Gods in Your Witchcraft

Today, I’m going to talk about something a little different. This topic is something that I tend to consider more in private, and it took me a bit to decide how I wanted to talk about it. The topic? Including gods in your witchcraft, spells, etc. If you’ve flipped through any spellbooks for sale nowadays, or visited any site--including my own--you’ve probably at least seen in mentioned in passing. “Invoke any gods you work with,” or “Call on X”, or “Invoke Y”. Yes, many of these spells might even give you a specific god to work with, and to be honest, that’s something I take a bit of issue with for a number of reasons. 

Now, I’m certainly not going to call myself an expert in this area. I’ve only been working with one goddess--Lady Aphrodite--for a few years off and on, and I’m learning more each day. But my experiences over these few years have certainly led me to form some opinions, and those are what I’m going to share with you today. Working with Lady Aphrodite has been one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done, and as I dip into the rest of the Hellenic pantheon, I’m excited--but nervous--to share some of my thoughts with you. 

I took my dive into witchcraft when I was in college, so about 9-10 years ago (yikes). When I started looking up spells to try, I was surprised to find that so many spells mentioned call upon some god or another in order to complete the spell. Now, this shouldn’t have been very surprising--a lot of witches are Wiccan, and it makes sense for them to include such things in their spellcraft. This was a bit of a turn off for me, until I learned that witchcraft could be as secular as it is religious to some folks. As someone who was raised in a Black, Christian environment, that made dipping my toes in a little easier. Spells would note that you could take out the invocation or switch out gods to suit your personal taste, and often I would do just that. 

As noted, I started working with Lady Aphrodite a few years ago. I consider my work with her and my exploring Hellenism to be separate from my witchcraft, but sometimes I combine the two. And as I continued to work and learn, it concerned me that some people would mention the invocation of specific gods in spells, almost haphazardly. Why would you instruct someone--especially someone who is probably newish to witchcraft--to call upon a god they likely know nothing about? 

And therein lies my issue. Working with gods is an amazing and humbling experience--your relationship to them might be casual or passing, and it might be deep and personal. But regardless, these are gods. We need to be respectful when approaching them--introductions and offerings are almost a prerequisite in my book. But more importantly, before even that, we need to know who exactly it is we’re calling upon. Gods are not a monolith. They have personalities, likes and dislikes, levels of decorum they expect, and so on. They have eons of history behind them. These are all things we need to take note of before calling upon someone we know nothing about, with no prep work done beforehand. Some gods may be fine with this--many others may not be. Some gods are more dangerous than others. The very least we can do before approaching and invoking a god we know little about is to read about them, properly introduce ourselves, and offer a prayer before asking for their assistance in a spell. 

We also need to note whether or not this is a god/pantheon that’s open to us to begin with. Many religions--such as Voudoun--are closed to outsiders, and yet their gods are thrown around willy nilly as if  they’re open to approach from anyone. This could lead to as small an issue as the spell not working, or as disastrous an issue as offending the god. This isn’t to discourage anyone from including gods in their witchcraft, just an urging to do your research beforehand. Casting a spell isn’t as simple as finding the spell online and following the directions--you need to do some preparation and reading beforehand, to make sure you’re doing it correctly. 

All that being said, gods can be a great aid to spellwork when all the correct steps are taken. There’s certainly nothing wrong with having a god on your side pushing your spell to work for you--though let’s be real, they can be rather unpredictable with the outcomes. :) If you’re considering including gods in your witchcraft, there are a couple of steps you can take: 

If this isn’t a god you work with regularly, do some reading on them. Glance at their wikipedia page, check out some books if you’re able, read articles on them, get to know their history and their stories. 

Introduce yourself! You wouldn’t like it if a stranger on the street came up to you and asked for your help and time with something completely random with no hello or thanks, would you? 

Make an offering as part of your spell, or before your spell--this is why it’s important to read. Find out what they like and how they like it. 

Always say thank you afterwards. 

Depending on how your spell/introductions went, consider working with them more regularly! There could be a relationship there to work on and develop. 

Always be cautious with your spellwork, and respectful in approaching deities--that’s what most of this boils down to. In our rush and excitement to start casting spells or working with gods, we can get careless, and carelessness is dangerous. Better to be knowledgeable and prepared, even if it means slowing down. This is something I wish I’d known more about when I started looking into spellcasting and witchcraft as a whole, so now I’m passing that information down to all of you! I hope this helps, and isn’t too much of a turnoff. It helps to know that witchcraft is just as much studying as it is spellcasting. ;) 

I’ll be doing a lot more posts on deities in the future if I can help it, and with February coming up I plan to try and do some posts on lovely Lady Aphrodite, so keep an eye out for those, and thank you for reading! 

(I'm cleaning up my blog and reposting some of my spells/etc that were once hosted on my website.💕)

[olderthannetfic]

I wanna add in a personal issue I got with authenticity claims when connected with own voice, as I've seen them used. Probably incorrectly but not sure.

I'm diaspora myself, in such a way where I notice it, but others maybe/probably wouldn't.

Authenticity seems to be a static category. There isn't a lot of clear distinctions between experiences when it comes to culture.

Who writes more "culturally authentic"? Someone from a country who has lived their entire life there, a 1st gen diaspora who's spent part of their life in their "home" land and part as diaspora, or a 2nd-3rd gen diaspora who has only been to their grand)-parents homeland as basically a visitor?

These three are not the same. But they might all be listed as authentic and "home land"-culturally depending on the "home" land, and especially an authentic own voice. But diaspora, especially later gens, will get more and more removed, and have a heavy mixing of cultural concepts and beliefs, that make it harder and harder to actually be "untainted" authentic, or even authentic at all. It feels like you become an outsider to more and more ideas and concepts, and like you're losing on that "authentic" experience of even experiencing the culture.

You can't compare the "home" land authenticity and a later gen diaspora authenticity, even if both engage with the culture. Those works might share similarities, but it will also become noticeable that they are writing based on different life experiences. None of that is a sign of quality, but it shows that "authentic" writing is a bit of a messy and misguided way to judge and label someone's writing. It can become extra weird when you try to sell all these three categories under the same idea of authenticity, or try to sell one as more valid than others.

Personally I am technically a 1st gen diaspora, but my experience is definitely a 2nd+ gen diaspora, I'm very removed beyond knowing 1 of the languages. Meaning that just as a personal observation, I don't think I could ever claim to write culturally authentic for ONE culture ever, not even my parents birth culture, because I just never had the experience and everything feels very muted and removed. I'd call it culturally translucent, because it's so easy to see through my experiences.

I'd have to do just as much research about either of my parents cultures, as any foreigner would have to if I even wanted to come close to anything that could be considered "authentic" let alone "own voice." I'd probably over-explain ideas and concepts, that someone who's a "home" land person wouldn't even think of doing because they wouldn't even think of it.

I definitely noticed that I just adopted random habits and ideas from my families home land without really connecting to it, while also combining it with the current country I live in right now, and other diaspora I've met of different background, and adding in whatever I found interesting while growing up. It gives a bit of imposter syndrome, yes I can speak the language when I'm there, but do I feel culturally connected? Not really, no.

--

[unorcadox]

UNORCADOX

howdy, i'm mabel! it's the 3 year anniversary of unorcadox today, so i've prepared a decent bit of surprises. (and yes that means i started this blog in 2020, which is terrifying to think about.) i'll go into those new things under the cut, but first... check out the carrd linked in the header text of this post :3c

sooo soo so so so where on earth do i begin. uhh honestly let me just break down the new stuff first since i can talk about that more easily.

THE NEW LOOK! ok so like truth be told, i've been a faceless blog on purpose up until now. it wasn't until this summer where i actually liked how i looked or had any solid sense of my own aesthetic or what i wanted to look like. it also made it easier to protect against dysphoria and transphobes in the same breath, as no one could ever comment on any aspect of my appearance, or even the mere suggestion i even had one to begin with! but that all changes now, i'm going to actually have a presence on this blog, as it is MY blog and tbh i'm tired of being so faceless on here. that's why i've been doing more asks and non-edit posts recently, and those will increase in frequency. check out the carrd for more info, my sona's ref, and art credits for assets on here <3

mondays -> MUSIC MONDAYS! so it might come as a shock i'm actually a musician in addition to making stuff on here! i've promoted my music a couple of times by now, but nothing all that substantial. sooo, considering that, i'm going to be replacing monday oc posts with a music post! just a link to a song on my bandcamp and a little description about it. i don't really care if these perform particularly well, but i want to give people a chance to actually hear it without having to deep dive through my entire internet history to get it. i also will be releasing more soon-- whether via compilations of older work or new stuff altogether :3

MORE IN THE FUTURE! i have a couple other ideas up my sleeve, we'll see how they pan out but i wanna keep trying new possibilities on here. i think at this point i've proven my consistency, and it's about time i let myself have a little fun and explore my options. these will be announced individually but probably added here over time as this is the new pinned post lol.

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

ok so anyways, i do wanna have the mandatory sappy segment because of course i do. i want to say a couple of things but i'll split them into bullet points again bc yeah i do that.

this year has been really good for me and the blog, in most ways it's been the straight up best year of my life uncontested. not everything has gone perfectly, i had other plans that fell through, but hey that's just how life goes huh. at one point, i was easily projected to hit 20k by the end of the year, and now i'll be happy if i hit 17k lol. tumblr has not been that kind to my blog's growth this year and it's making me consider other options in the future, but everything's so scary rn i don't wanna commit to anything.

as for the blog itself, i've kinda been in a weird spot with it for a while. i've been scraping by on here intermittently for the entire year on and off, and i might have some ways to help keep me on top of the ball during the next year, but i also do wonder how long i can really keep doing this, and how long people will still like weirdcore and my work in particular. i've been considering branching out in terms of my presentation, or format, or style, but i feel incredibly weird about doing so.

in my personal life, this is the year i finally started transitioning and seeking treatment for my most pressing issues. i've finally started dating the love of my life, my best friend of 10 years, and despite some interpersonal turmoil all around me, i think i'm finally finding safe ground and knowing what i wanna do next. i don't really talk about it on here because i'm very private about it, but i've been kinda slowly becoming like a Real Adult Person this year. i didn't really have much of a chance to prior and i still am struggling a lot, but hey i know what i want now!

it's really silly to say but this blog still means a lot to me! it's seen me through the craziest times in my entire life, it's brought me so much perspective and knowledge and opportunities i wouldn't've had otherwise. i wake up every day and go on here and never stop feeling starstruck that people chose to follow me. i know tumblr success means nothing but to me it's the only community i've ever actually belonged to, so thank you all.

ok so like i really just don't have much else to say anymore, so i think i'll end it there! thank you all again, i can't wait for year 4 as it's going to definitely be a crazy one lol. let's hope it's a good one too!

[the-final-sif]

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 75 total works currently!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

904,821 total words written!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently only really DSMP, but in the past I've written for bnha, marvel, rise of the guardians, homestuck, transformers and a bunch of other random ones in there.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Before looking, my guess is it'll all be bnha, since some of those are my longer ones and and got pretty popular.

Katsuki Bakugou has No Goddamn Chill (But It's For The Best That He Doesn't) - 26,412 kudos

Lessons Learned - 15,859 kudos

You know that thing where an orchestra swaps instruments, and like, some of them get it right away, but others have no clue what they're doing? This is that but with quirks, two unwilling participants, and also Emotions - 11,774 kudos

The Green Eyed Monster - 7,066 kudos

A Yellow Box, Time, Trust, and A Few Adjustments - 6,579 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Not usually, I respond sometimes if there's something that catches my attention. but. Uh.

This my inbox filtered by "comments without replies". I do read them all though! Even if I don't mark them as read.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhhhh, for dsmp they aren't too bad but probably A Palimpsest Mind.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

For DSMP again, Mercenary to Mailman

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Nope, never really had issues with that. I've had a couple of weirdos but not really hate.

9. Do you write smut?

I did it once to prove I could but I didn't find it too interesting. Sometimes ideas can be fun but ever since the one time I found myself just wanting to write something else when I tried.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nah, it's not my thing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, very weirdly. Was able to get it taken down though!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! Several of my fics have been translated and it was super cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I don't think I have? But I've done RP and worked out ideas with people before!

14. What‘s your all-time favorite ship?

Uh, honestly I'm less interested in ships themselves and more the nonsense that you can create with that. Any ship can be my favorite if it serves my purposes.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Fissile Family tbh. I have so much written for that and it all planned out but my interested in the bnha fandom is currently dead.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I'm a pretty fast writer overall, and I think I do well with characterization and dialogue. I know that when I get in a flow I can get character voices down pretty well and that's something that I'm proud of. I'm also pretty good with doing my own take on characters that's different from their canon versions but is still verisimilar.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Sometimes I just forget words or switch what sentence I'm writing halfway through and then never catch it. Also I have to actively beat back my own comma abuse.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's neat? Unclear what this question is asking me for.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Warrior cats! It was hand written in a binder that I actually still have, about clans in an abandoned shopping mall. It was very silly and I'm still proud of baby me for writing it!

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Seven Year Old Katsuki Has The Ability To Kill A Grown Man And No Concept Of Legality

The formatting on this one was insane and took so long and I'm proud of how it came out!

[velaryqns]

hiya! just wondering if you’d be able to take a request for House? if you aren’t feel free to ignore this but i was thinking something along the lines of House has a bad pain day but so does the reader (knee issues because i have them, it’s hell and with the colder weather they’ve severally worsened) They both come back from work and make an attempt to help each other get through it? Thank you for taking the time to read this!

Weather Pain

PAIRINGS: Gregory House x Fem!reader

SONG: not applicable

WARNINGS: it’s house md, I feel like depending on the context that’s a warning on its own. mentions of pain, mentions of House’s addiction

—-

I silently cursed the cold as I held my coat tighter and walked through the doors of the hospital. I held my keys tightly, unlocking them and watching for where my car was parked. It was hell as I trudged toward the vehicle and tried to ignore the growing pain in my knee.

With recent weather, my knee had been absolute hell to deal with. But I didn’t tell anyone and just continued on through my days, taking pain reliever as when it would help and keeping my leg up when I got home.

I opened the car door and quickly climbed in, slamming the door shut. I sat in silence for a moment, eyes squeezed shut as I tried to deal with the pain before starting the engine. I rubbed at my knee for a few seconds, letting the vehicle warm up before I pulled away and out of the parking lot.

With my long day behind me, I made way for my apartment. Relief washed over me when the building came into sight, but it was soon washed over with dread upon remembering the stairs I’d have to climb. I grabbed my things from the passenger seat and walked to the front door of the complex.

Reluctantly, I climbed the apartment stairs to my floor, thankfully it was only the next one up. I unlocked the front door to my apartment and stepped inside, setting my things by the door and going straight to the couch.

Should I have figured out supper? Probably.

Was I going to? No.

I groaned, lifting my leg to rest on the coffee table and throwing my head on the back of the couch. My apartment reeked of Greg, reminding me that he’d stayed the night before and would probably come over again tonight.

I dozed off, only to be woken up by the apartment door being opened and slammed shut. I could hear rustling bags and could smell the Chinese food being brought in. I forced myself to open one of my eyes, breathing deeply when I saw Greg. I knew he was struggling with his own pain as well, but since he had his ways to care for it he would usually try to focus on helping me.

“You gonna wake up?” He called out, dropping on the couch beside me and resting a hand on my knee, “I’ve still got the Vicodin…”

“No,” I said firmly, sitting up and grabbing for the food. He watched closely as I picked what I wanted, “How’s your leg?”

“The same as usual,” he admitted, grabbing his food while I side eyed him.

“You’re oddly calm,” I pointed out, he remained silent, staring at his food as he ate. I set my food aside and eyed him, “How much did you take today?”

“I needed the relief-“

“Greg I could’ve helped you,” I took his food out of his hands and put one of my own in them in its place. I used my other hand to force him to look at me. I furrowed my brows, watching his face for any sort of reaction, “I don’t want to go over this again.”

My voice was soft but he knew what I was talking about, and gave a small nod, “I knew you were dealing with your knee…”

“Is Greg House getting soft on me?” I asked with a teasing smile, but that was the case. Greg scoffed and pulled away, getting up and hobbling to the kitchen with his cane. He came back with the heating pad and some pain relievers, struggling to carry both as he limped back into the room.

“Sit back,” he instructed, I raised a brow in response as he came to a stop in front of the couch, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Yes, Doctor House,” I complied and shifted on the couch, sitting back and elevating my leg once more. He set the heating pad on my knee and passed the pain relievers to me. He disappeared to the kitchen again and came back with water, passing it in my direction and then grabbing my food for me, “You’re too good to me.”

“Don’t push it,” he grumbled, reaching for the remote and sitting beside me with his food while turning on the tv. I smiled in his direction as he flipped through channels, not impressed with any of the shows since his soap opera wasn’t on.

“Thank you,” I told him, eyes still on the screen as I ate my meal. I leaned into his side, sighing in content while he watched me.

He counted down the minutes until I’d finished my food and fell asleep, it gave him good reason to spend the night again.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 5

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC Smut Warning

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives. 

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: “You couldn’t stop thinking about apologizing or kissing me?"

On Wednesday, I awoke when my alarm went off. Did I sleep through his alarms today? I must have been out of it. I was hot and sweaty. I felt like I had been dreaming but couldn’t recall what it was about. I groggily headed toward the shower. I stood under the hot shower stream longer than I probably should have before I started to wash my hair. I was moving slowly through my entire routine. I felt like I had a mild hangover and was not looking forward to the workday. 

As I was digging through my clothes, I realized all the undergarments that I had left were a little too sexy in nature and not the most comfortable. I silently cursed myself for letting Lauren help me pack, even though me doing it alone most likely would have resulted in a panic attack. I sighed to myself, settling on a lacy white set that was the least offensive, then I got dressed. Today it was black fitted high waisted palazzo pants that zipped up the back, a matching blazer, and light pink sleeveless blouse with a lace trimmed white Cami underneath. I pulled my straightened hair back into my usual low bun. I actually felt cute today. The pants hugged me in all the right places and gave me a little confidence boost that helped improve my mood. I was barely ready on time and had to hurry downstairs to meet Joe. As usual, he met me with coffee and scone in hand. I was thankful for it this morning. 

I was surprised to not find Megan waiting for me when I arrived. I momentarily wondered if I would have any issues entering the building, but once I reached the security checkpoint, they told me to go through without checking my bag or requiring that I go through the metal detector. All I could do was shake my head as I walked toward the elevator. 

When the elevator doors opened to the correct floor, Megan was standing there, looking very impatient. I smiled at her as I exited the elevator and asked if everything was ok. 

“Yes, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to meet you this morning. I was just on my way down. I was having some trouble getting the printer moved to the secondary conference room for you.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I don’t expect you to meet me every morning. I think I can find my way now.” I gave her a reassuring smile, hoping it might help her relax some. 

“So today should be fun. I am going to start running data checks. There is a possibility I may need a second set of eyes or hands.”

“Sounds good. I’m really excited about this part. I am curious to see how all this works. I think it’s fascinating.”

“Well, I think you may be the first to ever say that. Most people want no part of it.” 

Megan led me to the secondary conference room that required ID scan entry. It was a large space that housed an executive style table that took up most of the room, but it was all slightly smaller than the first one we met in. I started getting set up and laid some of my paperwork out across the table. There was a method to my madness that did unfortunately involve killing some trees. I am a very visual person, so a lot of the time it helps me to lay things out instead of switching between multiple windows on a small laptop screen. 

My first step was to start running some of the unaltered data download spreadsheets through a program that compared data from multiple servers and also checked for data irregularities and notable patterns. It could be a slow and tedious process depending on the size of the data load and looking at the past six years’ worth of information was a lot. 

About two and a half hours in, while processing the financial data, something caught my attention. During each payment period, there was always one account outlier in the losses column. The same account never had consecutive losses within that range. I suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline, convinced this could be something. 

I pulled up the profit and loss statement report pdfs that I had reviewed earlier in the week. It hadn’t been completely obvious to me at that point because of the way they were presented. I hit print. Once they were finished printing, I called for Megan to bring some tape and to come assist me. I had her sort them out by year. Then I asked her to hang them on the wall alphabetically by account name then in the order of the month and date. I also had her highlight the outliers on each report. She initially looked at me like I was crazy but didn’t question it. She did as I asked. I alternated between helping her and setting more data to run through my software. By the time we were finished, almost all four walls were completely covered in these reports. I stood back, staring at them. Trying to figure out how to piece it all together. 

I grabbed a pen and started writing large visible numbers on the reports in the order that the outliers occurred. There was one full cycle of the spike in losses for each account. No repeats. I stepped back again, staring at it with a half grin on my face while shaking my head. 

“Megan, would you mind letting Mr. Carrington know that I will not be available for lunch today please. I think I’ve just found something that needs my attention.”    

Megan looked at me, wide-eyed. She nodded before walking out of the room. She returned several minutes later, eager to help. We both went through numbering each cycle for the outliers. It was the same every time. One full cycle through the accounts with no repeats before it started over. However, each cycle had a different order.

I sat down in a rolling chair, turning in circles to look around the room. What now? There had to be more. I leaned my head back as I rubbed my hands down my face, trying to think. Megan excused herself to go grab our lunch delivery. I figured this might be a good time to take a bathroom break. When I rounded the corner walking to the bathroom, I passed Jay Brooks. He gave me a polite hello but didn’t stop to chat. His demeanor seemed off. I had a suspicious feeling about him.

When I got back from the bathroom, Megan had returned with our lunch. As soon as I walked toward her, she leaned into me while looking around slightly paranoid. She started speaking quietly.  

“So, it may be nothing, but when I was coming back, I saw Mr. Brooks attempting to swipe into this room. He never uses this room for anything.”   

“That is interesting indeed. Let’s get back to work.” 

We both ate while we stared at the walls. There was something about the changes in the numbers. 

“I think I have an idea,” I said rather loudly as I dropped my food down on the table, causing Megan to jump. I grabbed my laptop and made a copy of the financial data spreadsheet. I quickly removed all the losses marked as outliers and moved those over to another excel tab. I went through and got the average losses for each year. Then, I went to the other tab and deducted those corresponding year’s average from each of the outliers. What I was left with literally had me bursting out in laughter. 

“What a fucking idiot.”

“What is it?” 

“When I account for the average losses across all accounts for that year and minor fluctuations, then subtract them from these outliers, I get basically the same difference for each account. These first two years, it’s a one-point five percent spike. It went up to two percent for a few years and it’s now holding steady at two-point five percent each time one spikes. It’s statistically impossible for that to be happening naturally for that many accounts.”

I wasn’t sure if Megan followed any of that. It was a lot to process. She just stared at me, wide-eyed before speaking. 

“So, what you're saying is, someone is skimming a specific percentage from one account at a time on a rotation? Which would cause a spike in the losses, right?”

“You got it. He got greedy and started raising that percentage which made it even more obvious this last little bit. I can’t believe the accountant didn’t catch this.”

“I don’t think the accountant checked all the accounts because there are so many. He randomly picked them and asked for that specific data.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Megan gave me a serious look as she shook her head. That would most likely be why it wasn’t caught. 

Now I had proof that malicious activity was happening, I just had to figure out how. I quickly looked back through all the audit trails relating to Mr. Brook’s accounts. There was nothing there. Everything looked legitimate. 

“Can you ask the head of the IT department if he is available to see me, please?”

“Of course,” Megan said as she went to make the call. 

Several minutes later, I knocked on Sam’s door. He called out for me to come in. I inquired about who has access to the mainframe and about security for that room. Sam said there were currently no cameras pointing directly at the entry door to that room, but there were some on adjoining hallways. 

I realized there are also bathrooms on the same hallway as that space, so it would be hard to say definitively that someone was going into the mainframe room based on the camera footage. 

I then had Sam pull up a list of IP addresses that had accessed specific data files on the mainframe, he noted that it was only the mainframe workstation listed to run scheduled automated jobs, most being done late in the evening.  

“Sam, who has access to the mainframe workstation?”

“Technically, all the Senior level staff. Their ID card will get them in the room, and they have the admin credentials.” 

“Seriously? Why?” I didn’t even give him a chance to answer before continuing.

“You know what, never mind. It doesn’t matter at this point. Can you get me room access information for the last six months and the automated job schedules by tomorrow please? 

“Of course, I can. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it for now. Thank you.”

I left Sam’s office and walked back to the secondary conference room. I found Mr. Carrington and Megan there. Mr. Carrington’s face showed confusion as he looked around the room. I started to walk him through today’s discoveries, his confusion turned to aww. He said that he was impressed with my unconventional methods. Laughing as he looked around the room.

“I don’t want to leave this up overnight in case someone gets in here,” he stated. 

“Of course. I had planned to take pictures and shred everything before I leave.”

“I’ll let you get to it then. Megan, please help her dispose of this after she’s done.”

Megan gave a slight nod as I moved to pull out my high-definition professional camera from my bag. I methodically started taking pictures of small sections of the walls. As I would finish with one section, Megan would pull them down and shred them. We finished just as it was time to call it quits for the day. She and I were both feeling worn out as the adrenaline started to wear off, but we were still excited by what we had accomplished. We said our goodbyes, then I headed downstairs to meet Joe. 

It was close to six when Joe pulled up in front of the hotel. I felt giddy from today’s discoveries and anxious to see Dieter. Joe parked the car and opened my door, giving me his usual spiel. I quickly made my way inside and grabbed the back corner booth in the restaurant. I took off my blazer as I sat down because I was feeling hot suddenly. Bartender Tim made his way over and asked what I would be having. I asked for some mozzarella sticks and opted for a fruity mixed drink rather than wine and water. I had a good day, so I was feeling something a little extra. I pulled out my laptop to work on my report and looked through a few more datasets while I waited. 

About forty-five minutes later, Dieter came in through the front entrance. I didn’t even have to see him to know. I could literally feel him. I looked up as he was walking into the restaurant. Our eyes focused on each other. The biggest smile spread across his face as he approached the booth. He was wearing dark colored jeans and a fitted white t-shirt, both of which were hugging him in ways that should be illegal. His hair was messy, hanging down over his forehead and he was wearing the black rimmed glasses. He was also still sporting just a hint of facial hair. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to control myself. The glasses were taking it over the top. He looked like he had had a good day. Hopefully that meant he got the news he had been waiting for. 

He slid into the booth, still smiling with the sweetest look on his face. His energy was infectious. He turned to face me, took a deep breath, and said, “I got the part!”

I did a little clap, and I stomped my feet simultaneously. I was excited for him. I leaned toward him and gave him a side hug and a small rub on his back as I said congratulations. Yeah, I was shamelessly flirting with this guy again. Clearly, I was already feeling the effects from my mixed drink. 

He put in his order with bartender Tim. He too ordered a mixed drink and another round of mozzarella sticks. He asked how my day had gone and I shared the new developments. Excited that I was finally on to something. He was full of questions and wanted to know every little detail as to how I had figured things out. He finished his drink off quickly as he listened.  

“I think you literally just blew my mind. You’re too fucking smart.” he said with a laugh and shook his head in disbelief as he leaned back against the booth. 

“Not really, the computer does most of the work for me. The rest is just recognizing patterns and reasoning.” I said, taking another sip of my drink. 

“However, please feel free to continue to stroke my ego. I won’t argue too much.”

His eyes met mine and he continued to chuckle at my response. There was a look in his eyes that was unreadable. We sat staring at each other for a moment. His eyes briefly dropped down to my mouth as I bit my bottom lip, then down to his drink. He adjusted in his seat. Then, rubbed his left thumb across his bottom lip and down the side of his face before resting it on his right shoulder, giving it a small squeeze as he exhaled. I continued to look at him a moment longer. He looked slightly flushed. The energy between us had shifted. It was electric. At that moment, I knew tonight was going to be interesting and I was one hundred percent on board with it. I basically gave up any sense of control I was holding on to. It was one of my few “fuck it” moments that I was probably going to regret, and again, I didn’t event care.

I interrupted the silence, “We should get a shot to celebrate. We both had success today.” 

He laughed at my enthusiasm and agreed. I slid out of the booth and asked him what he wanted. He opted for a shot of whisky. I walked up to the bar to get Tim’s attention and asked for two shots of whisky. As I waited, I could see Dieter’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He definitely looked me up and down, then quickly looked away. The pants I wore today were a good choice I thought to myself as bartender Tim passed me the shots.  

I sat back down with the drinks; we clinked the glasses together before downing them. We continued chatting for a while about anything and everything. Movies, books, music, all the typical topics. Playfully arguing with each other when we disagreed on something. Both of us sneaking in brief touches here and there. I had shifted to face him in the booth, with my leg bent up on the seat. He kept touching my thigh when he would laugh about something I said. Even giving a gentle squeeze occasionally. It was taking my mind to places it shouldn’t be. I could feel the tension between us building. 

Around ten o’clock, my phone buzzed on the table. It was Lauren. One short message asking how tonight went. I didn’t answer. She was going to be pissed at me. I looked at the time.

“Oh, it's nearly ten o’clock. Geez, that was fast. I guess they’ll be closing soon.”

I sat my phone back on the table. Feeling disappointed. Dieter looked a little disappointed too. 

“Time flies when you're having fun I guess,” he said as he finished off his latest drink. I finished off mine too. We settled our bill, then we both stood, making sure we had all our things. I grabbed a mozzarella stick and stuck it in my mouth as I walked in front of him toward the exit. He started laughing at me and shaking his head. I wasn’t completely drunk, but I still had a good buzz going at this point. Completely at ease and enjoying myself. I hadn’t really been like this in years. It was kind of nice to let loose if I was being honest.

We both got on the elevator. Being in such close quarters had my nerve endings on fire while the smell of his cologne wafted around me. My head felt foggy. It took us a minute to realize that neither of us had hit the number for our floor. We looked at each other and started laughing as he reached over to hit the number 9. He backed into the corner next to me, our arms touching. The elevator jerked as it started its ascent, causing me to stumble on my unsteady feet and fall against him. The length of our bodies touching as he caught me from falling. We both froze momentarily. I looked up at him to give my apologies, but no words left my mouth. My eyes dropped to his lips. He leaned in halfway and stopped with a questioning look on his face. I closed the distance between us and kissed him. I reached up and put my hands on the back of his neck, giving his hair a little tug as we both deepened the kiss. His hands tightened around my waist, pulling me in closer.

We broke apart when the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Staring at each other, wide-eyed. I think we were both in shock over what just happened. I gave him a shy smile and walked past him down the hallway toward my suite. My fingers over my lips the whole way. The heat from his lips, still present. I could feel him following closely behind me. I caught his reflection in the glass of a picture frame at the end of the hall as we approached our suites. He had his hands in his pockets and was watching me with a hint of a smile on his face.    

We reached his door first. I took a deep breath before I turned around to tell him good night. He was looking at me intently. His eyes were unreadable. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something but stopped. He reached up to push a stray piece of hair out of my face that had fallen loose at some point and then smiled. 

“I should be free tomorrow evening if you want to hang out again…I know it’s your last day here, so feel free to tell me no, if you have other plans.”

I smiled, “No, no other plans. I’ll be right here. In the hotel, I mean.”

My eyes shifted down, realizing my brain was failing me as he kept looking at me. All I could think about doing was dragging him into my room. I shook my head to clear it and smiled, telling him good night and that I would see him the following day. Reaching out to squeeze his hand as I said it. Then I turned and walked to my door without looking back. It was a second before I heard his key card in the lock. I caught a glimpse of his back as he entered his suite. 

I walked into my suite, setting my things down on the couch. I stood in place for a minute. Staring at nothing as I tried to process what happened. I decided to get ready for bed and try to decompress. I pulled my blouse and shoes off, then walked into the bathroom and started brushing my teeth. I took my hair down. It fell in soft dark waves around my shoulders. I stared at myself in the mirror, noticing that my pupils were dilated. I laughed at myself. This was absurd. I could not believe how I had acted this evening. It was a sobering moment and I felt like I was past whatever had come over me by that point. I just needed to be away from him to gather my thoughts. 

As I was digging through my suitcase for some pajamas, I heard a light knock on the door. I stood there for a moment, confused. It didn’t sound like it was the main door. Another knock. It was at the door adjoining mine and Dieter’s suites. My stomach did a flip once I realized it. 

I walked into the bedroom and opened my side. Dieter was standing there, with his arm propped on the door frame above his head. He was wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt. Skin showing just below the hem of his shirt from where his arm was raised. My eyes lingered there before meeting his. I was certain that he noticed. He took his arm down and rubbed his thumb down the side of his lips as he hesitated to speak, eyeing me. I leaned on the opposite side of the door frame waiting for him to say something. 

“I’m sorry, I-I.. shouldn’t have bothered you. I…just wanted to apologize for earlier. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and…”

“You couldn’t’ stop thinking about apologizing or kissing me?”

He stopped, realizing what he had said. He was trying to read my face, looking for the correct answer. I wasn’t giving him anything to go by. I wanted to know what he was really thinking. 

He hesitated, “I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. I have been all week.”

He braced for my response. His eyebrows knitted together with a determined, but worried look. His chocolate eyes searched my face. That was all I needed to hear. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him to me. Our lips crashed together. He took a few steps toward me as I put my back flat against the wall. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me up against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, running a hand through his hair and again tugging it gently. He groaned into my mouth, and I could feel his excitement pressing against me. Any control that I thought I regained over myself was gone. 

I lowered my hands to the hem of his shirt, tugging to pull it off. He stopped kissing me to pull it over his head. My eyes took him in. His torso was toned but not overly muscular. His shoulders were broader than I realized and his arms well defined. He pulled me back to him. His hands were in my hair, then he reached down to pull my Cami off. He briefly stopped, “Is this ok?” he whispered before continuing. I let out a breathy yes, reminding myself to thank Lauren later for throwing in the sexy bra and panty sets even though I cursed her for it earlier in the day. He wrapped his arms around my waist as he kissed down my neck, lifting me off the floor slightly to walk toward the bed. After he placed me back on the ground, I reached down to palm him through his shorts, and he groaned into my mouth again. He reached for the front of my pants, not finding what he was looking for. He pulled away for a minute, looking down. 

“How the hell do you get these things off?”

I started laughing as I turned around tugging at the zipper. He grabbed my hips, clearly admiring the view for a moment before trying to help me undo the zipper. In my haste to pull it down, I got it caught on the fabric. We both started laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

“Fuck it. Rip them.” I said through my exasperated laughs.

“This might as well be a damn chastity belt,” he said through his laughter as he gave a good tug, pulling me backward slightly. 

The zipper finally popped loose. He sighed in relief as he pulled my back against his chest. Pulling my hair out of the way to kiss down my neck. I grinded my backside into him as he went to stick his hand down the front of my pants. Again, he paused asking if it was ok before continuing. I managed to squeak out another yes. He continued, rubbing my sensitive area, and feeling the wetness that was forming. My entire body was electrified. Honestly, I hadn’t felt this aroused or alive in years. Clearly, I had been missing out. 

He pulled his hand out and slid my pants and panties down my legs. Then he moved to undo my bra, sliding it down my arms slowly. I turned around and reached for his shorts, but hesitated. I felt like I was in foreign territory. I hadn’t been with anyone but my ex-husband in so long. I started to doubt myself and I was unsure of how to do this. Damn my intrusive thoughts. 

He caught my eyes with his, sensing my hesitation. 

“We can stop if…”

“No, I just haven’t done this in a while. I feel a little out of practice.” I gave a half smile and a one shoulder shrug.  

He reached for my face, kissing me gently.

“I think you are doing perfectly fine. Just don’t think about that.”

As his chocolate brown eyes stared into mine, I felt my confidence return and pulled his shorts down. He didn’t have anything underneath. I glanced down. He was definitely excited and above average in size, I assumed anyway. I didn’t have a lot to compare to. He pulled me back to him and started kissing me again. Geez, he was such a good kisser. I was never one for making out in the past, but the way his tongue moved with mine was igniting a blaze in me. I couldn’t get enough of him. I reached down and started stroking him. He sucked in air through his teeth, leaning his head back at the feeling.

I paused and his eyes snapped to mine. Concern etched his face. 

“Do you have a condom? I’m… I’m not on anything…”

He paused before answering me, like he was trying to decide how to answer. 

“I-I had a vasectomy…but I haven’t been with anyone in a very long time.” 

He looked apprehensive while he waited for my response. Honestly, I was a little shocked. It wasn’t the response I was expecting. I would have to pack that away to process later. 

“Oh...ok then. Me too. I mean, I haven’t been with anyone in a long time either.” I said, shaking my head up and down. 

I could see the relief on his face. We gave each other awkward smiles and I started kissing him again. I was determined to be in the moment and not in my head worrying about every little detail. 

Dieter backed me up to the bed. When it hit the back of my legs, I sat down and started to crawl backwards. He followed, hovering over me and kissing as we went. Once I settled, he was everywhere. Kissing, sucking, and touching every inch of me. He started working his way down and paused as he felt me tense. 

“You don’t have to do that,” I said as I grasped onto his hand. He looked at me with questioning eyes. 

“It’s just…that’s never really done anything for me.” 

“Then clearly someone didn’t know what they were doing. Relax and let me have a go at it.”

He gave me a mischievous grin and started sucking on the inside of my thigh. I gave him a small smile and nodded for him to continue. 

As soon as he put his mouth on me, a loud moan escaped my lips. Maybe he was right. It didn’t take long for me to reach my peak. It was easily the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced. A high that I had never reached.

Dieter crawled back up to hover over me, looking pleased with himself. 

“Ok, you were right. Someone didn’t know what they were doing.”

He laughed at my declaration as I started to kiss him again. I could taste myself on him. We grinded against each other. After a moment, he reached down to line himself up at my entrance. He paused looking at me for permission. I resumed kissing him and bucked my hips up for him to continue. He went slow at first, giving me the chance to adjust to his size. 

Once we got into a rhythm, we were fueled by pure need. Our bodies saying what our words failed to. We couldn’t get enough of each other. Our hands and lips were everywhere, sucking and caressing. My entire body felt like it was burning with want. It had never been like this for me before. I gave myself over completely. I could feel that familiar burn building again as I climaxed for a second time that evening. Dieter nipped my jawline and kissed down my neck as I arched my back through it. Once I started to come down, he grabbed my leg, just behind my knee and raised it to change the angle. I could feel the burn building again as my muscles started to contract around him for the third time. 

“I’m about to…” he trailed off through his heavy breathing. He placed his forehead against mine and I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist while we both tensed from our releases. 

He sat there unmoving for several minutes. We both attempted to get our breathing under control in between the deep sensual kisses we shared. We were both covered in sweat and trembling from the exertion. He rubbed his nose against mine and gave me one last peck on the lips before he rolled off to lay beside me. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. 

“That was…unexpected,” he said once his breathing had calmed down. 

“It was. I’m not complaining.” 

Dieter laughed while he twirled my hair in his fingers. 

“I think I need something to drink,” I said as I laid there, unmoving. He moved to get up, agreeing that he did too. I told him I had water in the fridge. I shamelessly admired his backside as he walked out of the room. 

He came back quickly, turning all the lights off as he went. He handed me a bottle of water then pulled the blanket back and climbed in covering us both up. We both downed a significant amount of water before setting the bottles on the nightstands. He scooted down in the bed onto his left side and pulled me over to him. My back to his chest. He wrapped his right arm around me with his left bent back under his head and nuzzled his face into my hair. I laced my fingers into his right hand, pulling his arm tighter around me while our legs tangled together. 

For the first time in a long time, I felt content. I felt safe and unjudged. I decided I would let myself enjoy the moment and worry about consequences later. I just wanted to be happy and without worry for once. Even if it was only for one night. 

I noticed his breathing shifted to slow, steady breaths. He had fallen asleep. I further relaxed into the warmth of his embrace, letting sleep take me too. 

At some point in the middle of the night, I felt his foot slide down my leg, then he hugged me a little tighter. I wasn’t sure if he was awake or not. He didn’t seem to be. At least not all of him. I stretched my stiff muscles, pushing my backside into him as I did so, feeling the hardness press into me. I did a little wiggle and he groaned into my ear, burying his head into the crook of my neck. His fingers tightened in mine. He was definitely awake now. 

I turned my head toward him, our lips meeting. It was slow and sensual. His hand made its way down to my core where he started working his magic with his fingers. I was panting and reached my peak quickly. He slid his hand down to my thigh, repositioning my leg. Then he propped himself up on his left arm to position himself and enter me from behind. He laid back down, wrapping both arms around me, then began moving, very slowly. We both groaned at the feeling. This position was a new experience for me. The angle hitting pleasure spots I didn’t know existed. 

His right hand alternated between roaming my body and grasping my hip to pull me back to him.  My head was laying in the crook of his left arm, his left hand bent up, tangling in my hair while I turned to kiss him. I threaded my right hand through his hair, grasping it tightly causing a deep groan from him. He would switch between fast and slow thrust to prolong the experience. When he felt my body begin to tense, he picked up the pace and we both reached our high together, letting out pants and moans as we rode it out. 

We melted into each other as our breathing slowed. He continued to place random kisses down my neck and nuzzled back into my hair. 

“Why are you so fucking amazing.” 

It was a statement. Not a question. I laughed at him. 

“Can we just stay here, like this, and forget the rest of the world exists?” He said with his face buried in my neck. I chuckled.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

I started lightly rubbing his right arm, which was still wrapped around me. Within minutes he was asleep again. For a minute, I dared to wonder what it would be like to wake up with him every morning. To be in a relationship with him. He was so attentive and caring. The opposite of what I had before. Is that something I was even capable of right now? Emotionally I was kind of a mess. Not to mention the psychological effects of what I had been through. I quickly dismissed that train of thought. I was getting ahead of myself. As far as I was concerned, this was just a fling. I’d most likely never see him again after this week anyway. I eventually dozed off into a deep sleep. 

A/N: More spice coming in the next chapter. 😉

Next Chapter

[babylovepresley]

thinkin’ about you — elvis presley x reader

summary: you are elvis presley’s former lover… at least you think you are. the year is 1960, and he is finally returning home from the service… but you haven’t heard from him since the day he left memphis and got on that plane nearly two years ago. what is left of you both?

word count: 2k

content warnings: 18+ sexuality mentioned, ANGST, possibly an unhealthy relationship, references to religion and god

read & listen along: https://open.spotify.com/track/1fDFHXcykq4iw8Gg7s5hG9?si=c2I7yoRJQMOSZEIrxLHCsg

writer’s note: hiya lovebugs! this is just a little something i conjured up when i was supposed to be doing homework (hehe), and i thought perhaps you’d all like to suffer with me. it’s not my best work, as i have had quite an overwhelming day and this is the best i could produce. this is my first fic posted, and i truly hope you all enjoy! remember requests are always open, and i am forever sending you all plenty of love and light!

dedicated to: my darling friends that promote my obsession with writing angst, though it hurts them in the end <3 (@eliseinmemphis my sincerest apologies lover)

It’s a cold day in March when he comes home; his hair wispy and long, touching the tip of his forehead beneath the large issued cap. When he first went away, the cap seemed to swallow his sleepy head and make him seem like the boy I first met all those years ago— when life was kind and he smiled with his tongue between his teeth. A patron moves to turn the television up, standing on the counter and nearly knocking over a young man’s grits that sat untouched on his plate. The soldier huffs and puffs as the camera follows him; his lean figure cutting through the tv and leaving an ache in me heart. Did the scars from our childhood playing wear off? Did the inside of his left pinky still glow red and raw from the movement of his ring? Does he still think of me?

He swallows, and my own throat constricts watching him. Life had become so difficult after he left— the beginning of us did not matter, I only wanted to get through to the end. And now we’re here, or rather he is. All I can do is stand and watch in our hometown diner, as he glows for the entire world. My coworker comes up beside me, placing her tray down on the crowded counter and side eyeing me.

“Yes Minny?”

“Sugar, I hate to do this… ‘specially today of all days… but—“ always walking on eggshells, Minny was. In fact, I’ve noticed that every other waitress today has been side-eyeing me with pity; wondering what I must have done to him to be here instead of greeting him with open arms, perpetually on my knees for him. The truth is I never did anything to him… and I guess that’s why he never found it important to write to me.

“You need me to close… don’t you?” I smile. I didn’t have it in me to be cruel right now, though I wanted to scream and cry can’t you see I’m busy lamenting a man I don’t know anymore?

“I’m sorry y/n, it’s just that my daughter wanted to stop by the Graceland gates tonight to.. well.. you know…” she trails off, itching an imaginary scratch behind her neck. It isn’t her fault that her daughter looks at him the same way I did, or still do. It’s been a long time since I’ve laid my eyes on him, and I wonder if they still fill with the warmth and affection I once saw him have for me.

“It’s okay Min, I don’t mind at all! I’ll probably just make a cup of tea for myself and clean the jukebox tonight… have a feeling I finally wanna clear out a certain someone’s records….” I giggle, though I’m laced with a bitter agony in my throat; I never wanted to hear his voice again, but I know one sound falling from his pouty lips would cause me to stare in adoration and declare my god, where have you been?

I turn my head back to the television, because I simply cannot bear not looking at him… not after three years of staring out the window and praying to God that he’d somehow be sitting outside my door, waiting for me all the while. He has changed so much; poised and gifted with the confidence that can only affect a young boy who dreamt of the strength and masculinity he exudes. He left me a scared boy, with heavy shoulders that I ached to massage into a restful stature, and came home a man; broad and unashamed. I simply can’t wrap my head around it as the camera pans to his face, spotted with the cold sting of snowflakes as he nods his head in thanks. It’s ridiculous.. I feel jealous of a force of nature simply because they get to live and die on him; when I have faced far more triumphs and little deaths as a result of his person.

Still, he looks afraid as he shuffles through the crowd of women waiting to grab at him. I feel nauseous just looking at it, and I find myself tugging at my uniform in an attempt to deflect from the obvious want situated in each woman's eyes. Many years ago, I would’ve moved through the sweaty crowd gathered by the gates of that airport, and used my handkerchief to wipe the nervous sweat on his eyebrow; my hands ever-so delicate on his cold cheeks. And he’d look up at me and smile, the apples of his cheeks pressing his eyes into a squint; “you miss me lil?”

But now I stand here, as unknown to the world as the words he said to me the first night he pulled me by bare chest to his and mouthed a sonnet only he could tell. Memphis has changed, he has changed, but I haven’t. Maybe that’s why he didn’t write. Maybe that’s why I’m living in the in between; Elvis’ girl or not? Lover or former flame?

The hours pass by with the creaking stools signaling the end and beginning of each meal, my nails making a dull clack against the cracking counter. Before I knew it, the street lights flickered to life, and my coworkers' cars pulled out of the lot, blowing kisses out their windows in a silly “goodnight!” gesture. The diner is lonely without the murmuring of the town, but I find it to be deeply comforting while I clean. The TV has been turned off, and the jukebox unplugged, leaving me with nothing but my pitiful thoughts and slight hiccups as I cry and clean the corner booth.

In the midst of my cry, for him, for me, for his Mother, and for any semblance of a future I had once dreamt of, I failed to notice the front door being pulled open and the slight ting of the bell. The wind from outside climbed my bare legs as I wiped, shouting out a quick “We’re closed honey, I’m sorry!”. Why look up when I always know who it’ll be— whether it be a neighbor, the town drunk or a church choir member.

“Oh… ‘m.. ‘m sorry” the stranger stumbles out, and I can physically feel the soft tapping of his loafers on the sticky linoleum floor. I’d know that voice in death, when the grim reaper kisses me goodnight, I’d be begging him “please.. let me hear his breath one last time”.

With all of my strength I turn to him, staring down my old hero. My spray bottle has long been abandoned, spilling on the floor beneath me and wetting the tips of my white shoe. I couldn’t care less. Nothing could’ve stopped me from following his voice— nothing could have prepared my heart for the sight of him in front of me. I feel the ache of my brows pulling down on my face, and the cold air drifts through my parted lips to remind me that this is real… he’s here. After all this time, he’s here. I’m silent as I watch him distribute his weight; left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.

“Ya see me on TV today lil?” His thick voice cuts through the air; still gravelly from the cold morning air he sucked in earlier that day. A part of me wanted to coddle him; coo “oh poor baby” for the pain in his throat. But the other part of me wanted to laugh in his face at the incredulous question. In the end, that’s just what I did.

“Did I- Did I see you on TV Elvis?” I barely manage to get out, as my throat begins to constrict with sobs. Bastard. At least we both are in pain from the words we can’t say, I think to myself.

“W-well I noticed the TV ain’t on.. so I thought I’d ask…”

“You thought you’d ask me if the TV was off because you wanted me to watch you come home today?”

“Baby I know it ain’t been that long,” he chuckles, his hands digging deep into the pocket of his black slacks. I once sewed a hole he tore in those slacks, and I remember the way he kissed my cheek in thanks— I still feel the burn of his lips. “know my girl hasn’t gone all dumb on me”.

My girl. As if he had any right to call me that anymore. My anger bubbles to the surface, as the chemicals I dropped sting my nose. We stand polar opposites of one another. On one end of the diner, we have a lowly waitress who dreamt of a family and a small life but now spends her days covered in bacon grease for the creepy men in town to ogle at. On the other end, with hair still blown back from the influx of winter wind coming through the corner window, stands a god amongst men. He has the world in his hands, and it dawns on me that he could have any family or anyone’s life that he could ever want— small or large it wouldn’t matter, it’s all small to his strong flesh.

Unchanged in my agonizing swirl, I threaten, though no matter how hard I try I could never be crossed with him in tone, “You don’t get to call me that no more Elvis”.

He shuffles uncomfortably, and his lips curl inward with a tremble. He has taken an interest in the floor, and I wonder if he remembers the time he stayed here until 4 am with me scrubbing them down. He looks at the tiles just as intently as he did then, though now it seems like he feels just as dirty as them.

“I ain’t… I m-meant to write you y/n honest—“

“Oh you MEANT to write me, huh?”

“Yes! Yes I-I-I did I just got caught up ‘s all…”

“Caught up?”

‘Yes Lil! Caught up!” he extends his arms out to his sides; desperate for a positive response.

I can’t hold back the building sobs anymore, it hurts too much— makes me want to reach my arms out to him like a child and cry for help. I’ve bared my soul to him in far too many ways, and he deserves to see the mess he’s made of me.

“For two years E?” the tears sting my cheeks, as I hiccup in a breath.

For a moment, I see him take a step toward me. Ever the holder, Elvis always showed love through his touch. There would be nights I’d wake up sobbing and afraid at the idea of never getting to feel the velvety touch of his fingertips in or against me ever again. Those nights still haunt me, and the idea of him touching me is almost too much. No man has touched me since him, and I’ll never want anyone else to ever again. I move from his reach, and walk beside him with a wipe of my nose as he panics.

“B-Baby I tried! T- The Colonel”

“The colonel,” I stop in my tracks and smile spitefully with a small shake of my head “It’s always the Colonel E, isn’t it?”

“Oh c’mon y/n whas’ that supposed to mean?'' he follows behind me as I stomp past him and behind the counter, desperately grabbing at anything to appear unaffected; but he knows me. Elvis knows me more intimately than I know myself, and I’ve come to resent him for it. I can’t bear his cluelessness, and I can’t live with all of this hurt inside of me for any longer.

“ELVIS! He has taken EVERYTHING FROM YOU. Money, your Mother, your life, me! You’ll just let him take and take and take,” I throw the bulk of napkins across the counter and into his chest in anger, though I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt him. Strange how he seemed fine all the while I was dying for a single word from him. “until there’s nothing left of you— of us!”

I move around the counter, and it feels as if I don’t keep moving I’ll collapse in a heap of tears. My finger jabs into his chest, and he flinches with the intrusion. For the first time tonight, I see tears forming in his eyes, yet his stained cheeks indicate they have been falling for a long time as he struggles to inhale from his own pitiful, silent sobs.

“One word from you Elvis, that’s all I wanted.” I sob, barely coherent as I lay my hands on his chest. He grabs them, and the shift in my stomach nearly makes me lurch in pain. I feel him now, so real and warm and so mine. I could never forget his touch, and now that I have it again I doubt I’ll be able to breathe without it. We cry quietly for a moment, holding one another as if we were foreign to each other; like he hasn’t consumed by body and soul whole and left it to rot in his chest.

It’s silent save for his uneven breathing and the gentle scuff of my feet; unable to stay still as my body betrays itself. I pull away, and he mumbles a “no, no honey stay” as I wipe my eyes and regain my strength. He paws at my apron, trying to pluck me closer before I scold him for his mistakes.

“Elvis, please just go. I-I’ve lived without you, I’ve cried each time I saw your house, or-or heard your records. I’ve grieved you before you were even gone, and I know I can do it again. So please baby, please just go” I whimper out, smoothing down my skirt and pinching my thighs beneath the frilly mess. I can’t look at him, though my eyes thirsted for the pinch of his brow for so long.

There are very few women who can say Elvis Presley laid himself in front of her and wept. I’ve seen him cry before, in fear and anger, and each time I have taken him into my arms and quelled him into relief. But nothing could prepare me for the sight laid out before me.

My man, a god, falls to his knees in front of me and cries with outstretched palms, “Do ya think I’ve forgotten ‘bout you?”

His eyes appear to burn as they flutter closed with a gulp, his large hands gripping onto the bottom of my skirt, “Oh God baby, ‘ve messed up somethin’ awful, I know.” he cries out, wiping his nose with his sleeve like a boy. A chuckle builds in my chest at the antic, as it reminds me of the boy I’ve cried for all along. He licks his lips, panicking at the thought of rejection. “ ‘ve always tried to be so good for ya and look what I’ve done now… look what your satnin’s done now…” He chokes out, ever the fallen angel.

His arms wrap around me, and I stumble forward with the force of his pull. It’s no use in fighting, I think to myself, I can never purge myself from the feeling he gives me. I don’t think I’ll ever want to— I can never shed the feel of him. The feel of Elvis; an irrevocable heartbreak. My upper body falls on top of him, my breasts pressed against his strong shoulder as my hands slide flat down his back; the wool of his jacket slightly burning my wrists. I feel his cries against my hips, as his arms lock around the backs of my legs; hands clasped in fear that I’ll soon pull away. His shoulders shake as I lean over him, and chills run down my flesh as his thumbs soothe the backs of my thighs.

Against my skirt he wails, “Kiss me. Please God, kiss my sins away. ‘ve done so bad by you baby— let me know I ain’t the devil incarnate..” his nails dig into the thickness of my thighs in desperation.

Who am I to deny him?