#i care. but to take up A WHOLE PAGE OF THE APP??

[fingertipsmp3]

Oh fuck I have the update

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Prescription For Pleasure

Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.

You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.

And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.

But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 

“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 

Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.

But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”

Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”

“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 

“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 

“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”

“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”

You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.

“Yes?”

“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.

“I am aware of it, yes.” 

“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 

Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”

“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.

“There appears to be a problem.”

“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.

“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 

It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”

There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.

“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 

“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”

A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 

“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”

With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 

And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.

The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 

“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 

“Yes.”

“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 

Your face burns. “Yes.”

“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”

You nod your head.

“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 

“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.

“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 

“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”

You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 

Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 

The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 

His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”

“The sensors are-”

“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”

His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 

Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 

Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.

The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 

“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”

Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 

“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.

“Good girl. Take a breath.”

You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 

“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 

Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.

“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 

With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 

“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 

“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”

He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.

“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 

So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.

“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 

“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”

You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”

“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”

Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 

“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”

“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.

“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”

One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 

Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 

“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”

Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 

“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.

“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 

“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 

“I just had to be sure.”

Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 

Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 

“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 

The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 

Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 

The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 

“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 

He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 

Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 

“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”

Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”

The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 

A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 

Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.

“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 

“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 

“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 

“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 

“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.

“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 

“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 

“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 

“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 

support banner by @/ cafekitsune @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan

[i-cant-sing]

Mmmhhh thinking about Yandere Batfam reacting to a reader who runs a very popular blog where she absolutely bashes Batman and Robins- and the batfam takes your criticism very seriously. Maybe not at first, but then Damian (the easiest to tick) got pissed off when you wrote how "he's just a kid in a cheap Halloween costume" and when Damian gets pissed off, he whines. He whines and whines and whines until Dick and Bruce finally listen to him and do something about it. That's when they find out about the extensive threads about them, criticising meticulously each and every action of theirs, how they're causing more financial harm to Gotham and allowing themselves to be idolised and causing more people to comit crimes just so that they could have their 5 seconds of fame with Batman. And ofc theirs a whole page about the Batsignal.

I mean, Damian and Tim have already found out who runs the page (though they had a little bit of a hard time sniffing u out. You were good at covering your tracks). While Damian and Tim are busy going to "have a talk with you", Bruce is at home reading your entire blog about Batfam and realising how some of your points.... kinda makes sense. So, he buys the app where you write your blogs, then has Damian bring you over to the Wayne offices, where he explains he just wanted to meet the person running the blog that generates the most readers on the app. You, just a 23 year old student who's blogging as a side hustle.

You're obviously stunned because why are you meeting Bruce Wayne and also confused because again, why are you here exactly??? Bruce just says that he likes your insights and would like to know more, and he's happy to pay you by the hour you spend talking to him and also on the blog.

He's very much determined to make Batman and Robins be good in your mind, and not that he cares much about what people think about him, it doesn't hurt to have good PR for heroes, lest people should try revolting against Justice league and only end up hurting themselves. There's only so much he could do to calm his metahuman friends.

You're again- CONFUSED, but you like money. The only thing you tell him is that you get to write whatever you want, complete creative control and that you can write about anyone you wish. Ofc, it doesn't register to Bruce that you could possibly write against his family- against his name.

So in the beginning, things are going great. Reader continues making calculated judgements and comments about Batfam and how they could possibly improve themselves, the batfam takes note and tries to do most of the things. Then you'd write something that could almost be seen as praise for "changing their old ways" and they all feel a little bit proud. They don't realise it but some members of the batfam (like damian and Dick) start craving your approval of their actions.

Perhaps something happens, maybe you don't find it fun to write about the bats anymore, so you shift your mind towards a new topic-

The Wayne's.

You research a bit, finding it a little odd at Bruve Wayne's generosity to be adopting random ass kids, a super duper clean record, no scandals or anything- it just- it doesn't feel right. No one's that clean. They have to be hiding something.

So when u can't find anything against them, you let your imagination go wild and start making conspiracy theories, kinda feel like reader goes in her gossip girl era to stir things up so that someone would come forward with something- anything.

Bruce's eyes almost bulge out as he reads the blog's headline-

"The secrets of Gotham's favourite billionaire playboy!"

Shit- did you figure out he's batman?

Nope. In fact, you covered everything but that. From theories about him adopting troubled kids for PR, to the Wayne family actually being a chauvinist cult, to conspiracies about his ties with the Rothschild, his philanthropic donations being a front for illegal activity, the Wayne Manor holding lavish nsfw parties, and even a classic "they drink virgin maiden blood!"

Bruce stood in your apartment, eyes narrowing at your sleeping form on the couch.

"Bruce? What- how did you get in?" You don't remember unlocking your door.

"What is the meaning of this?" He pulled up your article on his phone.

"Huh?" You took a closer look, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Oh. Yeah, I wrote that."

"Why?"

You shrugged. "I was bored."

"What?" Bruce could feel himself getting angry. How could you be so nonchalant about the lies you wrote?

"You know this isn't true." "I do." "Then why did you write it?" "I told you, I was bored. Besides, you told me I could write about anyone." You get up with a sigh. "I don't get why you're so worried about this. Barely anyone reads this stuff."

Bruce's brows went up. "There's a 1000 plus views on this already!"

"What?" your eyes twinkled. "A thousand already? Its not even been 24 hours since I posted. Wow, people really do enjoy conspiracy-" you shut up when you saw his glare. "Right, sorry."

"Take it down, now." Bruce orders, brow twitching when you just walk past him and into the kitchen, pouring yourself some coffee. "Why?" you asks after taking a sip.

He glares at you. "Because it isnt true-"

"Then give me something that is."

Bruce stared at you. Is this... is this your way of wanting an interview?

You sighed. "Look, just let me interview you family, I promise to only write the truth and only the truth. No conspiracies, I swear."

"Or I could just fire you. Better yet, have you sued for defamation."

You nodded. "You could, but honestly that would only bring more attention to the articles and more conspiracies would arise. Besides, you and I both know you cant stop me from writing even if I'm in jail."

Bruce watched you walk upto him, holding your phone in your hand. "Come on, just one week- one week at your place, I'll even let you read the article before I post it. If you dont like it, I'll delete it."

I mean... it did sound like a pretty good bargain. Besides, at his home, youd be in a more supervised space.

So here you are, standing in the lobby of the Wayne manor as a posh butler leads you to Bruce's office. Of course Alfred will be a part of your articles. He's too fancy to not be.

And so over the course of a week, you dont really find anything particularly intriguing about the family, even after you interviewed each member. You're mentally groaning at the thought of writing yet another boring article... that is until you accidentally discover the batcave (ok not accidentally, u hid a recorder in Bruce's office and u heard the man discussing about it with Dick)

Anyways, it didnt take long for you to discover the cave, and it took you even less for you to write a scandalous article.

"RICH MAN COSPLAYS AND PRACTICES HIS JUJUTSU SKILLS ON THE MENTALLY ILL! SEE PICTURES OF WHERE HE ROLEPLAYS IN MASKS!"

Unfortunately, before you hit "post", your phone is snatched and you're knocked out.

When you come to, Bruce is sitting in front of you looking beyond pissed while you're tied up in your seat.

"We had a deal, Y/n." Bruce gritted out.

"So? Deal was off the moment I found out you were Batman." You shrugged.

"We had a deal-"

"You really expect me to just pretend like I'm blind after I found out who you really are? Do you think anyone would just give up on a scoop this big?" You tilt your head at him.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at you. "Scoop? Thats what this is to you?"

You nodded. "Sure, you're a hero who fights crime and brings "peace" to Gotham, but who knows for sure? After all, thats how you want the world to see you." You lean as far as your restraints allow you. "I dont trust you, Bruce. Not one bit. There's just- this gut feeling about you. Nothing personal, but I dont get good vibes from you."

"Is that so?" Bruce raised his brow before sighing. "I guess there's no reason to let you go then."

"What?"

He nodded to himself. "Yes, if I let you go now, you'll only cause more trouble for me, but also for yourself. If you post content like that, people will target you- yes, I definitely cant let you go. You're an impulsive idiot who'd endanger herself just to not be bored."

Your eyes widen. "You cant kill me."

Bruce scoffed. "Dont be ridiculous, I can, but I wont. I just want to take care of you, protect you from yourself." He stood up. "I did a little bit of research on you too, yknow? You keep your personal life super private, I have to give credit to you, it wasnt easy to find out about your family. But... money makes the mare go."

Your throat dried as you saw a glint in his eyes. He knew... he couldnt-

Bruce's footsteps echoed as he neared you and ruffled your hair. "Poor you... having to deal with a schizoprenic mom." He leaned down to smile gently at you, but you could sense the sinister intent.

"Dont worry, she'll be taken care of at Gotham Asylum while you stay with us."

girl idk where i was going with this, i just needed to get it out of my drafts (i have another long incomplete draft about platonic yandere dick x gymnast reader where he basically is intrigued by this mini tonya harding who lives for her dead beat father's approval who doesnt give a shit about her unless she comes first. so its upto dick to adopt u and make u a part of batfam)

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Habits To Become Your Best Self In 2023

Some habits, routine ideas, and mindset shifts to help make 2023 your best year yet. Hope this helps and inspires you to reach your goals for the next 12 months. Remember to work hard and take care of yourself. Once you put your mind to it, the sky is the limit! xx

Make Your Meals Plant-Based & Produce-Focused: Center your meals around a variety of vegetables, fruits, plant proteins, potatoes, and unprocessed plant-based fats (avocado, nuts, seeds) and minimal whole grains.

Get Creative With Stress Eating Substitutions: Discover healthy swaps for your meals and snacks to ensure what you're eating without sacrificing your goals. Some simple substitutes include mixing in cauliflower rice into your whole grain rice to add nutrients/volume while slashing the calories, using half an avocado with lemon as a salad dressing over spoonfuls of olive oil, swapping meat for lentils in a chill, soups, or stir fry, choosing frozen grapes or whipped bananas with berries over candy or ice cream for a sweet treat, etc. Remember: Spices and seasoning are your best friends.

Be Mindful of Your Beverage Consumption: Consuming enough water is essential. However, if you get bored with water, add some herbal and black tea, black coffee, or fruit-filled water into the mix. Cinnamon, vanilla, and apple or peach teas are great options to satisfy cravings and prevent mindless snacking (not a substitute for food – eat if you're genuinely hungry). For the winter season, try using some pure cocoa powder with hot water, vanilla extract, and a tablespoon or two of plant-based milk for a healthy hot cocoa drink.

Prioritize Long Walks: Carve out 1-2 hours of your day to get 10-12K steps in at least 5 days a week. Go outside if possible or jump on a treadmill/walking pad to get in some movement while watching TV, talking on the phone, or catching up on some emails.

Find A Simple Resistance Workout You Love: Yoga, pilates, or an at-home weight-training or body-weight exercise you can do at home. Browse different YouTube videos for 10-30 minute workouts to try or sign up for a class in your local area to make it a more social experience (and force yourself to take accountability to show up in the first place).

Create Short & Long "Bookend" Routines: Create a simple routine for the beginning and end of the task-filled portion of your day. For most of us, these routines would be done in the morning and evening/at night before and after work, school, or doing chores/errands. Let go of the rigid idea that these routines need to be done at certain times of the day. Set yourself up to win and tailor them to your schedule. Consider these short routines (like drinking a cup of coffee/tea, reading, meditation, journaling, a walk, or a short dancing session) your warm-up and cool-down sessions of the day. Having these rituals to look forward to will give you the energy and motivation to do what you need to get done each day.

Practice This 10-10-10 Mindfulness Practice: Make time for at least 10 pages of reading, 10 minutes of meditation, and 10 minutes of journaling daily (This can include shadow work) either in the morning or nighttime to clear and reset your mindset for the day.

Take An Hour To Plan Out Your Week: It's most convenient to do this power hour on a weekend (I typically reserve an hour before dinner on Sunday for weekly planning). Write out all of your main work tasks, schedule any due date reminders (for work, bills, chores, and other life necessities), must-do errands, emails and calls or appointments to make, etc.). I like using the Productivity Planner from Intelligent Change and my Reminders app/Google calendar via iCloud to sync deadlines and times to schedule messages/tasks/bills, so everything will be in front of me at the correct time throughout the week.

Prioritize 1-3 Tasks Daily: You might need to choose one large project to work on in small chunks or select a "Big 3" for the day, depending on how complex, lengthy, and time-consuming your projects/errands or appointments are for the day. Using this method allows you to be efficient, streamline your life, and feel productive without overwhelming yourself on the regular (the fastest route to burnout).

Make A Life Admin Schedule (and Stick To It): Choose days (and times if possible) of the week to update certain spreadsheets, batch reply to less urgent messages, clean your house, do laundry, grocery shop, etc. Scheduling these tasks ahead of time eliminates half of the battle for following through on what you need to do. Eventually, you will make these tasks into habitual routines that your brain will allow you to execute effortlessly as though you're in autopilot mode.

Mind Your "Circle of Influence": Do an intake on the 5-10 people you speak to the most or value in your life. If you're an employee, it is probably best to not include your boss or coworkers in this consideration list, as you need to work amicably with them regardless of your personal feelings. Look how you feel during your interactions with your friends, family, intimate partner, or an adjacent love interest. Consider how they speak to you, about themselves, and the topics your conversations are focused around. See if they align with the person you want to be and your goals. Evaluate how close you want to be and what parts of your life you think would be the most beneficial for you and the relationship going into 2023.

Set Boundaries: Understand your expectations, non-negotiables, and limits in every area of your life. Communicate these principles to others clearly, so they know when they are overstepping. Don't tolerate disrespect, but also don't expect others to be mind-readers. If someone knows that they're crossing your boundaries, it is easy to draw the line in the sand and walk away without the guilt or shame that can arise when conflicts originate from a lack of healthy communication.

Incorporate One Creative Practice Into Your Week: Reinvigorate your mind by engaging in at least one hour of creative activity per week. Try drawing, creative writing, poetry, singing, dancing, painting, pottery, jewelry making, graphic design, photography, etc. Even taking a foreign language course or creating a Pinterest inspiration/mood board or organizing your home/closets in an aesthetically-pleasing way counts. Figure out what creative outlet(s) you find satisfying. Prioritize scheduling this practice into your schedule weekly.

Refine Your Signature Look: Edit your wardrobe, try out a new haircut, or change up your makeup routine, nail color, or signature scent. Consider how you can close any gaps between your authentic personal style and how you present yourself on a day-to-day basis. Create an inspiration board if needed to help yourself define your unique aesthetic and gradually work towards embodying your ideal look.

Keep A "Praise" Archive: Create a record of all of the messages you receive highlighting your achievements, milestones, recognitions, or compliments. Compile a folder that acts as your "praise" archive for every area of your life. Create a folder in your work email inbox to save all of your professional achievements, praise, and positive contributions. Do the same for your personal email. Create a folder in your photo album of screenshotted texts. Keep a running list on your "Notes" app of any compliments you receive on your conversational contributions, actions, attire, personality, smile, etc. Hyping yourself up to connect to your highest self.

Create A "Siren" Kit: Take note of all of the clothing, scents, songs, cosmetics, phrases, people, and other aspects of your environment that empower you to feel your sexiest. Keep all of these items/songs/texts together to make it simple to set the mood before engaging in some indulgent action or revisit when you need a boost of confidence throughout your week.

Do A Financial Audit: Create an income/expenses spreadsheet to understand your current spending behavior and budgeting plan going forward. Set up your 2023 financial goals and projections, including target amounts for income, savings, and investments.

Give Yourself A Weekly "Treat": Find a healthy indulgence that you can strategically incorporate into your week. This "treat" can be a massage or nail appointment, permission to watch a movie or a couple episodes of a TV show, a serving of your favorite dessert or a glass of wine, etc. Life is meant to be enjoyed. Consider regular indulgence as an act of self-care not as a sign of weakness or self-destruction. Embracing pleasure does not require guilt or external permission.

Happy New Year, loves! Cheers to an abundant 2023 xx

[shockercoco]

There We Go

Farleigh Start x reader

Warnings - 18+, fingering, overstimulation, drinking, farleigh being dominant when we all know he's not

Word count - 2366

a/n - this is my first time writing smut I wanted to give it a try, and it was hard for me idk how y'all do this lol. enjoy :)

Last night, you had your hands in between your legs scrolling through videos trying to find the perfect one, while Farleigh was outside smoking with Felix. You and Farleigh have never had intimacy problems, it’s just you having a hard time asking for or initiating the intimacy – even Farleigh has told you several times before that he’s always willing.  You hadn’t gotten too far in your journey when you started hearing those familiar footsteps outside the bedroom door getting closer. You hurriedly took your hand out of your pajama shorts, switched apps, and readjusted yourself like you had been lying like that the whole time. Farleigh opens and closes the bedroom door, kicks off his slippers, and crawls under the covers next to you.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks as he lays his head on your stomach and you just hum in response.

So now here you were sitting in a pool chair underneath the hot Summer sun watching Farleigh, Venetia, and Felix messing around in the pool, and you can’t seem to control your thoughts – mainly because you never got to finish last night. You throw your sunglasses on and try to distract yourself with the book in your hands and hope you weren’t making yourself obvious to him,  even though you could care less what Jane Austen has to say at the moment. You take a peak over the edge of your book and notice Venetia is talking to Felix, Felix is leaning against the edge of the pool with his head towards the sky not seeming to be really listening, and Farleigh is now swimming towards you.

You cross your ankles as if he could sense or see the arousal growing between your legs while he pulls himself out of the pool leaving the bottom of his legs to dangle in the water. Water drips off of him onto the concrete surrounding the pool and also forms into droplets on his chest and arms. Your sunglasses are pretty dark so you’re pretty sure he can’t see you checking him out.

“Are you okay over here?” Farleigh finally looks at you with his own sunglasses covering his eyes, and places a hand on your ankle. He always randomly does this, but at the moment you’re not a fan. You clear your throat before answering.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you ask looking up from your book as if you had been reading it the whole time.

“Just asking since you normally start complaining about it being too hot if you’re outside too long,” he jokes with a shrug of his shoulders. “As if we’re not all hot.” He now starts caressing your ankle, which any other time you would love it, but now all you want to do is push his hand off.

“Excuse you, you complain more than me. Plus it’s not too bad right now, as long as we get to go inside soon,” you say, looking back down at your book and start pretending you're reading again. You hear him let out a laugh.

“We’re going out into town for drinks later, do you want to come?”

“You guys are driving all the way out there just to drink?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“That’s what they suggested,” he tells you, referring to the two siblings still floating in the pool. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

“That’s the book I told you about, how is it?” he asks, still rubbing your ankle.

“It’s pretty good,” you answer not knowing what else to say and wishing the conversation would just be over.

“Where are you at in it?”

Oh my god.

You skim through a paragraph on the page and quickly paraphrase it for him. He gives you a look with a smirk on his lips, but with his eyes also covered in dark tint you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Or maybe he’s not thinking anything and you’re just overthinking. Once he eventually leaves you alone and goes back to swimming with Felix and Venetia, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

Later that night when you all are at the pub, including Oliver who decided to come at the last minute, you’re no longer feeling like your head is going to explode. Well, you do, but that’s just because of how packed it is inside the pub. Everyone in the bar has to raise their voice to communicate with one another, but no one seems to care. The group is several drinks in and are talking about the most pointless things, especially Venetia who is asking Oliver what color she should dye her already fried hair next, but you’re still enjoying yourself. Not Felix though, since he declared himself the designated driver because he doesn’t trust anyone else driving his truck. You’ve only had a couple drinks since you were never a huge fan of drinking to the point of getting drunk. 

Farleigh, on the other hand, is on his way there along with the rest of them, and is constant with his nagging towards Oliver. You nudge him every now and then as a warning and he gives you an innocent look every time. Thankfully Oliver doesn’t seem to mind – or doesn’t make it obvious – that he cares about what Farleigh has to say.

When everyone has decided they’ve had enough, you guys make the drive back and blast music loud enough to sober up an alcoholic. Felix, Farleigh, and Oliver don’t seem to have any problem screaming their lungs out to it. Venetia complains about the music being too loud, probably because the music is ruining her buzz,  and you just shake your head in amusement.

Once you guys arrive back at the estate, and do a terrible job sneaking into the house, everyone goes their separate ways. Felix helps Venetia to her room, Oliver stumbles to his, and you and Farleigh make your way to your shared bedroom. You tell Farleigh you’re going to take a bath to which he asks to join, and you decline. He whines in response and plops down on the bed as you head into the bathroom with a laugh to start running the bath water. 

After undressing and climbing into the tub, you lean back and close your eyes until you hear familiar footsteps enter the bathroom. You open your eyes and turn your head to see Farleigh starting to undress himself. Someone’s obviously sobering up.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” you sit up, obviously knowing the answer.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he responds. 

“I thought I told you no,” you tell him as he gets down to his underwear and shimmies them off. 

“Yeah, but this way we’re saving water,” he smiles like it’s the best idea he’s ever had, even though he uses this trick every time, and for some reason you fall for it everytime. Plus it’s obvious the Cattons would never worry about something like water.

Farleigh makes his way over to the tub, all the while you’re trying to avoid eye contact with his slightly hard length causing him to smirk. You roll your eyes at him as you make room for him, and he climbs in behind you making the water level slightly rise. Once he’s comfortable, you lean your back against his chest, and he loosely wraps his hands around your waist.

His fingertips tickle your lower stomach, reawakening that familiar ache you had earlier at the pool and last night that you didn’t finish satisfying. You hope he doesn’t notice your breath catching in your throat. Feeling him against your back doesn’t help much either. 

“See, this isn’t so bad,” you hear him say in that playful tone of his. You elbow him in his stomach, and you hear him let out a small grunt. “Hey, did you notice Venetia flirting with Oliver the whole time tonight?”

“It was kind of hard not too, I feel like she gets hornier when she’s drunk,” you say as you start to gently move one of your feet around in the water.

“Well, duh, doesn’t everyone? I’m just surprised she did that in front of Felix,” he laughs and starts to lightly rub your lower stomach..

“Speaking of Oliver, wh-,” you start, but Farleigh cuts you off.

“We’re not.”

“Speaking of Oliver,” you try again, “why do you give him such a hard time?”

“Because he’s weird.”

“You’re weird, Farleigh,” you angle your body and turn your head back to look up at him. He gives your side a little pinch making you jump and let out a giggle.

“You know what I mean. Don’t tell me you’re growing a soft spot for him just because of those big blue eyes,” Farleigh lets out a scoff.

“No, I’m just saying to ease up on him a bit. You can be a little mean sometimes.”

“Well, I don’t trust him,” he shrugs.

“Farleigh-.”

“Can we talk about something else,” he cuts you off once again letting out a dramatic groan and throwing his head back.

“Of course. When we’re done with this conversation though,” you give him a forced smile. He looks down at you and gives you a little glare. “Just say you’ll be nicer, and we’ll be done.”

All of a sudden you feel the hand that was grazing your lower stomach dip lower, and you feel a finger start to lightly rub up and down your slit causing you to tense. You widen your eyes once you realize what he’s doing, your jaw falling slightly open.

“Are you trying to shut me up?” you furrow your eyebrows at him, and he gives you a smirk. “The audacity.”

“Whatever helps.”

“Farleigh, I’m serio-,” you try to get out, but he starts to rub circles into clit. You hold back a moan that threatens to spill out from the sudden touch, refusing to let him win, even if this is how you wanted your night to end in the long run.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Farleigh-,” you try again, but this time he dips a finger in you causing you to let out a gasp at the intrusion, your eyes closing on instinct.

“Hmm?” 

You reach a hand down to wrap around his wrist as he curls his finger and starts to slowly pump in and out, but he uses his other hand to take it away and hold it. He adds another finger, still going the same deliberate pace along your walls on purpose to tease you. You bite your lip enjoying the stretch that his fingers bring, but still wanting to hold the noises in your throat back. Farleigh notices this and pushes his long fingers deeper into you, and then uses the hand holding yours to wrap around your waist holding you close to him. 

“If you want me to go faster, all you have to do is let some of those little noises come out for me,” he leans down and whispers into your ear. You love it when he does that, and he knows that, but you still didn’t want to break. “You know I saw you staring me down at the pool earlier.”

You knew it.

You feel his breath on your neck before he starts his trail of kisses making you clench your teeth. You make the mistake of looking down at his hand between your legs right as he finds his favorite spot on your neck, forcing a moan to accidentally slip out. You feel a smile form on his lips while they still attack your neck, and at the moment there’s a part of you that wants to strangle him, but you just give in to him.

“There we go,” he murmurs, and you finally feel his fingers speed up inside of you, causing your face to contort and lean your head back against his chest. He lets go of your waist using that hand to start rubbing your clit again, but this time rougher. This causes you to arch your back into him. If your body wasn’t submerged underwater, you guarantee you both would be able to hear your wetness with every movement.

Eventually, you feel your pleasure come to a powerful end, and Farleigh helps you ride it out as long as possible. You roll your hips into his hand until you’ve had enough, and just when you're about to motion for him to stop, Farleigh picks up a rapid pace forcing the water to start sloshing around. Your eyes widen and you let out a small squeal as you reach both of your hands for his wrist.

“Let go,” he says strongly.

“Farleigh,” you whimper, and it’s all you’re able to get out.

“Let go,” he says again, and this time you do. Instead you put one hand on his thigh and the other on the edge of the tub.

He continues his vigorous torture inside your cunt with you squirming and litterally gasping for air until you can both feel yourself gushing. But, of course he doesn’t stop there, not letting a beat pass. You bring your legs up to your chest with his hand still between, and he pushes them both back down. You let out a cry as he puts his legs over yours pinning your body to the bottom of the tub. It doesn’t take long for your third orgasm to come with a wail, and this time Farleigh stops.

Your heavy panting bounces off the bathroom walls as you finally have a chance to collect yourself, and Farleigh just chuckles from behind you. He slowly slides his fingers out and out of the water, but not before giving your clit a light tap, making you practically jump out of your skin.

“How are you doing down there?” he asks, as he wraps his arms around your waist. You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or genuine with your eyes closed, but at the moment you don’t care.

“Honestly, Farleigh, just stop talking,” you tell him, and he lets out a loud laugh that makes your body move against his chest.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Shared interests

Dad's best friend!Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader | SMUT 🔞 [Pt.2]

Your father shares information about his best friend to show support of your interests. Those interests take a different turn than he expected.

🐺 🐺 🐺

You and Daryl met via your father, Rick Grimes.

Him and Daryl had been best friends for so long they considered themselves brothers.

Although there was one major thing you had more in common with his best friend than with your father.

Monsters.

Werewolves to be exact.

Rick knew how crazy obsessed you were with those old day horror movies and their leading monsters so when he learned about Daryl’s more ..feral side he had asked if it was okay if you knew as well, to which he agreed.

When your dad told you his friend Daryl had something to show you you had zero clue of that it could be. All he cared for was hunting, leather jackets and motorcycles.

What you didn’t expect was to be met with a set of glowing blue eyes above exposed fangs and a clawed hand reaching out to hand you some books on lycantrophy.

Eyes wide you stared at the man on your couch and words seemed to fail you no matter how deep you dug through your mind. So you and your now soaked panties spun and ran up to your room.

“I think she meant to say thanks, Daryl.”

After that, whenever he visited you’d make sure to hang around and just talk to him. You wanted to learn everything about him and his species now that you knew they were real.

Daryl would sometimes bring you new books. The dust covers hiding the true, dirty covers of books on breeding, or biological books for ‘studying’ that did go in full depth when it came to anatomy.

Of course those books weren’t the only thing shared between the two of you. He could smell how turned on you got around him, that’s why you got the dirtier books in the first place.

When Rick got called about an emergency at work he rushed out, ordering you to take care of Daryl, who respectfully left after he had finished his drink. But not without sharing his phone number and later that evening his newly acquired snapchat. You shared a good amount of filthy thoughts over the app and his visits got more and more difficult for you both to sit through. You, thinking of wrapping your lips around his delicious looking cock as he howled out in pleasure while he came down your throat. But also him being able to sense your internal struggle and soaked panties. It was like you were silently begging him to bend you over the coffee table right then and there.

A couple months into your secret texting you had been reading one of the books Daryl had gifted you. The one on breeding, specifically. It went into great detail of certain mating rituals, what certain full moons did for reproduction on both male and female weres, but hidden further into the pages was this chapter on cross-breeding. The chapters included graphics of human females during the stages of pregnancies carrying either a single pup or multiples.

You had your reading nook prepared with a full phone battery, a small bottle of lube and the largest, knotted toy you kept hidden deep in your cabinets.

The whole book turned you on so much that even the informative graphics were enough to get you so slicked up you didn’t even need the lube as you slid the toy inside of you.

Grabbing your phone you opened snapchat and started a recording.

The book was the first thing in view, your fingers grazing over the image of a human female, her belly showed the internal view of her womb full of multiple pups, with next to it an outside look of her torso displaying a large round belly with multiple canine like teats. After letting the details show you swapped to your selfie cam, giving the camera a soft moan and bit your lip before moving the camera down to where you were pumping the thick, knotted toy in and out of your soaked pussy. You added a quick ‘wanna be like her..’ and sent it over to Daryl and laid your phone to the side, now giving all your attention to yourself and finishing what you started. As you worked yourself to release your phone dinged and a quick glance showed Daryl’s snapchat icon popping up. While one hand kept moving the toy, the other opened the snap and watched him jerk himself off with a clawed hand as bright blue eyes stared right at the camera. His shirt was pulled up between his bared fangs as he growled out loud and finished all over his hand and stomach. He came more than any guy in porn vids you’d seen and the caption read ‘allathat’s gonna be inside ya’. You kept the snap replaying on loop as you pushed yourself that last bit over the edge and came around the toy. You replied to his snap with one of your own, filming yourself pulling the large toy out, showing just how big it really was.

As you cleaned up you got another snap. It showed the view of Daryl’s back porch, leading into the woods that surrounded his cabin. The little text bar at the bottom read ‘cute. Lil’ small for ya, dontcha think?’

His words left you speechless and in the next week you spent some time shopping online and spending your savings on s little special number for Daryl’s eyes only. On the day your dad had to work a double shift you had called Daryl over and started to prepare as soon as he confirmed he was going.

This was the first time you were going to be having sex for real instead of just fucking yourselves in front of your phone cameras. You had already showered in the morning to save as much time as possible. You didn’t need to do your hair and your makeup was going to be ruined anyways so you just dressed in your baby pink lacy number with the open crotch and pink leather collar that held a large metal ring.

To finish off the look you had custom ordered a set of realistic wolf ears and a matching tail buttplug. Your knee high socks were white with pink stripes at the top and pink paw pas printed at the bottoms of your feet. You threw on a robe to welcome your visitor into the house and quickly led him up to your room.

“So whatcha got under here, huh?” His hands wasted no time and went to pluck at the ribbon holding your robe closed, untying it and throwing it to the side, taking in your lace covered body and exposed cunt. From the top of your furry ears to the bottoms of your padded feet you were looking like the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on. You bit your lip and did a little twirl for him, wiggling your ass at him to make sure he saw your little tail and turned back around to pull at your collar as you looked up at him.

“Ya really want me ta breed ya like yer a little bitch in heat.” His fingers hooked into the ring on your collar and pulled you closer, taking one of your hands and shoving it down the front of his pants. You squeezed his hard member and moaned at the idea of him buried deep inside of you.

“Alright puppy, why dontcha lay down all pretty for me, I’ll join ya in a sec.” He quickly undressed as you laid down, spread out for him on your kingsize bed. A pair of shining blue eyes followed your every move and as he made his way up to you he rolled his shoulders and snarled, hunching over as he climbed onto the bed and changing, shifting into his beast form that was at least twice his normal size. Looking up from the large fangs in your face as he lapped at you, to the enormous knotted member that put any of your toys to shame you suddenly realized Daryl’s joke that day.

“P.. Please- prep me first.” Your voice stammered and Daryl only laughed as to mock you but he still moved down until his muzzle was level with your cunt. He took a long whiff of your soaked smell before lapping at your folds and shoving the full length of his tongue inside of you.

The moan you let out was almost pornographic. So much it even shocked you with how loud you were. Looking down you were met with Daryl’s top jaw covering your lower belly as his tongue kept working your insides and his lower fangs poked at the fat of your ass. He let out an experimental growl that had you clench around his tongue. “Ahh fuck again..” Your wish as quickly fulfilled as he kept up his growls, sending jolts of pleasure through you as you squirmed under his hold all the way up to your highest pitched whines that left you as you came hard around his tongue. The appendage was slowly pulled out of you and lapped up everything that managed to spill from your lower lips. You were a heaving mess and you hadn’t even touched his cock, letting you know how insanely ruined he as going to leave you when he was done with you.

With heavy movements he positioned himself above you again, his mouth open and tongue still lolling out of his maw. With two clawed fingers he pulled your mouth wide open and let a glob of drool fall onto your tongue so you could taste yourself. He kept your jaw shut and rubbed your throat with his other fingers like you’d do to a pet that had to swallow its medicine, and swallow you did. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to show it was all gone.

With some more heavy moves Daryl moved himself comfortably onto the bed a hold of you and maneuvered you around to a fuckable position. Your hands were held above your head and one leg was pulled up against your chest as he rutted his hips against you, pressing his tip between your folds and moving further in with every thrust.

Choked gasps left you after he pressed in only halfway. The burning sensation of being stretched on his girth was one thing but you never had any of your toys, knots included fill you this deep. It hurt but there was no way you were going to make him stop. You wanted him so deep you could feel him poke your lungs. His face came down to lick at your cheeks, taking away any spilling tears and held your rocking hips still in a large paw as he slowly worked himself all the way in. You were so small compared to him, if he pushed in any further he’d tear your insides. He needed to take it slow until he as fully sheathed, but as soon as he was he could really set that breeding pace you so desperately wanted to experience. You looked down at his member being almost fully inside of you, only an inch and a half left between his knot and your lips. You watched as short ruts moved his cock in and out, the outline of it showing through the skin of your belly.

With his cock fully sheathed and his knot resting against your stretched lips he gave you a moment to breathe. His heaving breaths fanning your face while you rubbed your palms over the stretched skin of your stomach.

When you gave him the okay he started at a slow, steady pace and slowly worked up to the gut-wrenching breeding his bitch in heat pace he had promised you when he came in.

Rick came home earlier than he expected and to his surprise, found Daryl’s bike in his driveway. Normally when he came over he’d send a text and never go further than the garage. He didn’t thing too much of it any further and would find his brother when he’d find him.

Except the lower floor of the house was empty. Maybe he had gone off to the store to pick up new cigarettes.

He trudged up the stairs on his way to go take a shower, hearing the familiar sounds of monstrous growling coming from your room as he walked past.

Except why weren’t those sounds accompanied by the usual hight pitched woman’s screams or haunting background music?

What he did hear was something he hoped never to hear. “So close..” sounded your voice from behind the door. Without thinking twice his hand went to the handle, not knowing he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

There, in the middle of your plush bed laid you, ass right at the centre of his view, a plush tail dangling between your cheeks as your upper body laid splayed out across the pillows. Heaving chest exposed and covered in bleeding puncture wounds. A thick, pink leather collar around your neck and fuzzy ears on top of your head. One of your legs was raised up against the torso of what he knew for a fact to be his best friend in his changed form, currently balls deep fucking into his daughter. A large paw moved to cover your view of the room’s entrance as a thumb pressed past your lips and Daryl bared his teeth at the man in the door opening, signaling it was time to leave. Hands raised in defeat as Rick stepped back out of his daughter’s room and let the beast pick up his pace again right before he managed to close the door fully.

Your muffled moans sounded through the door as he decided to head out and go for a long walk around the neighborhood to make sure he wouldn’t catch any more of that ever.

“Ah Daryl, please..” You were so close again you were begging him to finish with you. You were so sore you were almost willing to beg him to stop. “Please, so close..” With your hands released again you reached down to squeeze at his knot, hoping he’d get the hint that you really wanted him to finish.

His head moved down to lick at your mouth as he sped up his thrusts, his knot pressing down harder against your lips every time. His tongue pressed past your lips and shoved down your throat as he tongue fucked your mouth. A padded finger rubbing at your clit had your eyes rolling back and your walls clamping down around his length, right as he rutted into you hard. His knot pressed inside of you and with a harsh pull it made it known it was really stuck inside of you.

You awoke the next morning with your thighs stuck together with dried cum and a naked human Daryl cuddling you.

As you tried to carefully get out of bed unnoticed you were made aware of Daryl being awake as well and grumbling a good morning as you moved over him to grab a robe and go clean yourself up as Daryl took some more time being comfortable in your bed.

All cleaned up and dressed in some underwear you went back to your room to find Daryl dressed and fishing through your hidden shoebox of toys.

“Ahem?” Making your presence known and passing him to grab some comfortable house clothes. You let him know you were gonna go make some breakfast and pray your dad had already left, but that prayer was quickly shot down by Daryl announcing he could hear your dad rummage around in the kitchen and you were going to have to face him.

Daryl offered to join you to soften the blow. You were too fucked out yesterday to realize your father had seen you two, also thanks to Daryl’s large paw obscuring your view of the door.

Once downstairs the two of you made your way into the kitchen, treading lightly and delicately wishing your dad a good morning as you went to make coffee for you and Daryl.

Without looking up from his morning papers Rick spoke. “I don’t want you ever doing that again in my house, understood?”

You shrunk into yourself before looking up in realization. “Y… You.. heard us?”

Daryl scoffed from the other side of the kitchen, seemingly unaffected by all of it. “Did more than just hear us. Gonna have nightmares for years.”

The pot of coffee shook in your trembling hands, almost spilling all over the counter. The idea of your father seeing you like you in such a filthy way had your stomach in knots.

The sound of papers crumpling and hands slamming onto the counter had you jump, dropping the spoon to the floor with a loud clatter.

“I trusted you with Daryl’s secret because you had an interest in those movies. Not so you could use it your for own.. Pleasure.” He had a hard time even saying it out loud, let alone look you in the eyes as he said it but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to do anything about it. You were an adult after all. “In fact if you’re adult enough to make such decisions you are old enough to find your own place to do that stuff, but not under my roof.”

All the while he still hadn’t looked up from his now messed up papers.

You stood there with tears in your eyes, terror and anxiety washing over you all at once, uncertain about what to even respond to such words.

“Well,” Not even a single heartbeat later Daryl spoke up. “Looks like we’re headin’ back upstairs ta pack yer stuff.” Ha strode over to your side to move you back around. “M’takin’ ya home t’ma cabin.”

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: Will I ever stop writing monsterfuckery? Absolutely not.

[daydreamingyuta]

NCT as Husbands Series: Johnny Suh

summary: fluff, drabble, husband!johnny wc: 830 nct as husbands masterlist

Johnny is such husband material!! He's genuinely soo thoughtful and sweet! like I always think about jcc and how he picks things to do based on who's in the video with him and what they would enjoy doing. which is why I would say one of his love languages is for sure acts of service! like he would always do the little things for you, that you may not even notice.

Also really big on communication. Anytime there's conflict in your marriage he's sitting you down and talking through it until you find a good solution. which I think is also a way that he shows he loves you because usually he can just brush things off, but with you he makes sure you're both on the same page and fully understand everything from each other's perspectives.

Johnny as a husband is also just so much fun! like there's not a day that goes by where he doesn't flirt with you like crazy. You could be twenty-five years into your marriage and he's still making you blush. He also loves to travel with you. He's always loved traveling and having someone who he can experience the world with is soo precious to him!!

I also feel like he would be in a constant battle with himself on how to impress you more and more by his good husband skills. Like he became a husband and all of a sudden it’s his life mission to make you the single happiest wife on earth. Especially with making sure you're taken care of!

Johnny enters the front door, too tired to even properly lift his feet causing them to drag. The combination of not getting enough sleep and dancing for hours straight was taking a toil on him. He knows immediately that you're not back from work yet, the atmosphere in an empty home just feels different somehow. He figures that you must be working late again. If he wasn't married, he would probably just go to bed right now without properly taking care of his needs, but he is married and he knows that you'll be hungry when you get home. He quickly checks in the kitchen to see if there's something easy to cook, but he doesn't find anything. He settles on taking out his phone and ordering takeout. He has a page on his notes app of all your favorite things to order from different restaurants just for situations like this. Yes, he could just ask you what you want, but sometimes being surprised with your favorite food just made it taste that much better. He places the order and then walks into the bathroom to wash his face, in hopes that it might wake him up a bit. However, once he flips on the light switch, he notices one of your face masks laying on the counter. "She must not have had enough time to do it last night." He thinks to himself, making a mental note of this as he brings his cupped hands full of cool water to his face. ⸻ It's not long after the food arrives that you come home, just as exhausted and hungry as Johnny figured you'd be. He gives you a sympathetic pout before he brings you into his embrace, letting you stay for as long as you want. It's two whole minutes into the hug before you finally notice the smell of your favorite takeout. You pull away from him and place your hands on his shoulders. "Did you buy me food?" "Maybee." He says, giving you his sweet smile. All your energy must have come back to you at the thought of food, because you rushed into the kitchen to grab a plate for the both of you. "Actually, I was thinking we could put on face masks together, sit on the couch, and eat while you tell me about your day." "Genuinely Johnny, I would love nothing more." You say, following him to the bathroom. "Actually, this is perfect because I was wanting to do one yesterday but got too tired." "Oh really?" He says, pretending like he hadn’t seen the face mask earlier.  You two put your sheet masks on in the bathroom and then go over to get your food. You sit on the couch in a criss-cross position as you tell Johnny all about your day. Actually, one of your coworkers recently had a very dramatic breakup with her boyfriend, so Johnny was all ears. "You know, It's actually so hard to eat with a sheet mask on, baby." Johnny says, adjusting his mask that started to slide down. "But it's worth it, it feels so nice," You say, setting down your food and helping him with his mask. You get it back into the right position and then kiss him on his temple which puts a proud grin on his face because he knows getting you food and doing face masks together made you happy. 

[holylulusworld]

Busted!

Summary: You are in trouble.

Written for @spnkinkevents: Kinky Sam Week 2024 – Day 1: Office sex

Pairing: Boss!Sam Winchester x Assistant!Reader

Warnings: power imbalance, the reader is in trouble, degrading, dom/sub undertones, light smut, unprotected sex, teasing, sex on a desk

“Miss Y/N to my office please,” your boss, a hard-ass self-made billionaire and sex on long legs calls for you. You whimper, knowing he only calls you to his office if you fucked things up. And you fear you fucked up big time. “NOW!”

Sam narrows his eyes as you are glued to your seat. Your legs won’t obey, and you struggle to breathe right. You can’t lose this job. It’s a well-paid one, and who will star in your dirty fantasies if your boss isn’t around any longer?

“Do I have to repeat myself?” He cocks a brow and crooks his index finger, calling your name again. “I hate waiting and repeating myself.”

“Sorry, Mr. Winchester, Sir,” you splutter while slowly getting up from your swivel chair. Your legs wobble, but you try to walk toward your boss’s office without showing him that you are afraid to lose your job. 

He harrumphs and walks inside his office without waiting for you. You slip inside and silently close the door. 

Your boss asks you to take the Seat opposite his comfortable chair. He sits down and watches you with angry eyes. “Do you know why I asked you to come here?”

You squirm in your seat and wring your hands. If Sam wants to talk about what you fear he wants to talk about, you’re going to lose your job and more.

Uploading your stories to your company account wasn’t the best idea you ever had. To your defense, you wanted to use your breaks to write another story about the kinky adventures of Kitten and her Master. Staring your boss and you.

“I—” you bite your tongue. Sam is staring you down, and you’re too nervous to answer his question. Your heart hammers in your chest at the way he’s sizing you up.

“Let me help you remember,” he grabs a stack of papers from his desk and smirks. Sam leans back in his chair, his eyes trained on you. He wets his lips, enjoying the struggle on your face. “You should know that it’s forbidden to upload documents and apps to our servers.”

You blanch and fist your dress. Your breath hitches in your throat as Sam starts to read your latest story. The juiciest you ever wrote.

He asked me to come to his office, a smug grin on his face. Master was in the mood for some playtime. My panties were already wet when he guided me inside. My master pushed me onto the desk the moment the door closed behind us. I didn’t wear panties, just like he asked me to do. Sam shoved my skirt up my thighs and kicked my legs apart to get a good look at my glistening cunt.

Sam clears his throat while you try to shrink into yourself. You dare not look at him when he crumbles the first page and flings it across the room. “Not too bad, but I’d correct grammar and spelling.”

You can’t think or speak. Shame and embarrassment hold your whole body in a tight grip.

“Let's see…” He’s not done kink-shaming you. Sam starts reading the next page.

I ended up bending over his desk, thick fingers inside my cunt. Sam was impatient. His pants dropped to the ground, and I hissed feeling his huge cock hit my bare ass. I always feel so empty without his cock, and he knows it. My master slipped his fingers out, to replace them with something better, and bigger. I was full beyond my limit seconds later.  Sam didn’t care. He held me down by my shoulders and started to batter my hungry cunt with his glorious cock.

Sam stops reading again, he watches your eyes widen in fear. You squirm even harder and try to find a way out of the situation. Looking up at the ceiling you pray that lightning will strike you down or the ground opens to swallow you whole.

“I wouldn’t use the word glorious,” he grabs a red pencil to mark the line. “Maybe you shouldn’t let him batter your cunt either.”

“What? I—" You’re speechless. Your boss is correcting your kinky story like he does with any paper you hand to him.

“Hmm…he should’ve teased her a little more,” he concludes, and scribbles notes down. “Your master could call you a cock-hungry slut and fuck every thought out of your brain.”

Sam nods to himself, and eagerly writes the line down before he goes back to reading your story aloud.

His strong hands held me down while he abused my pussy. I moaned his name and begged him for more. “Kitten,” he purred and got impossibly faster. I could already feel my high approach. I could taste and smell it. 

Sam snorts at the last line but continues reading. 

“Faster, harder,” I begged my master, and he gave me all I wanted. He gripped my hips and started to push into me so hard my thighs hit his desk. I didn’t care. I screamed his name and came all over his cock. His spunk filled my well-fucked cunt, and I happily sighed feeling Sam cum inside of me.”

Sam ends the story and places the pages back onto his desk. He folds his hands in his lap and watches you with darkened eyes. “Do you have anything to add?”

“What?” You squeak.

He sighs deeply. “This is the problem since that awful book and the movies came out. Everyone believes they are experts when it comes to this kind of relationship.”

You swallow hard.

“We need a better ending, miss Y/N. A master should always do aftercare and make sure his sub is in the right state of mind. A safe word is essential, or the color system.”

You start to sweat.

“I for myself, would call me a good dominant,” he slowly gets up to walk past you. Sam locks the door, humming before he turns back around. “I’m experienced not only in training a submissive but also do the needed aftercare.”

You are close to passing out when Sam cups your face with one big hand. He chuckles when you instinctively lean in his touch and close your eyes.

“We will start with your first lesson tonight, kitten,” you quiver and press your thighs together at his words. “First you will learn not to upload any of our stories to the company server again.”

“I—” You look up at Sam, lips parted and eyes glassy.

“There you go, kitten,” he purrs and runs his thumb over your cheek. “You can be such a good girl for me.” You almost mewl at the roughness in his voice. “But tonight, you will receive your first punishment. Now get up and bend over my desk…”

Tags in reblog.

[frvnkcastles]

LIKE HEAVEN ABOVE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: After Frank saves your life, you’re there for him through thick and thin.

Warnings: Violence, language, feminine nicknames, implied smut, mentions of death, reader is a teacher, reader wears glasses

Word count: 5.6k (wow)

Author’s note: Omggg y’all, I dug this up from my Pages app, it’s literally almost 3 years old and that’s why I’m a little nervous to post it but I thought it might actually be some of my best writing, so here we go :) It takes place through Daredevil season 2 all the way to the end of The Punisher Season 1, and I have to admit, I honestly feel like Frank was NOT ready for any kind of love interest during Daredevil but I took some creative liberties, anyway. So this is a little out of character on that front. I’m rambling, I hope you enjoy!! I’m gonna get back to your requests soon <3

Frank felt like somehow days passed by in a flurry yet every second dragged on like the worst torture he had endured — which was saying a lot considering the literal war he had gone through, and the fact he was currently lying in a hospital bed; broken, bruised and with a drilling hole in his foot. And yet waiting to see you was the one thing that got his confidence to falter, his brain to shortcircuit.

For a man so stubborn and determined to do things on his own, he had crumbled so fast when presented with the opportunity to see you again. He hadn’t even realized he had ended up caring about you so deeply, not until the blonde journalist had stepped into his room and the words just poured out of him.

”Would ya do me a favour?” Frank asked as the woman was leaving the room, his gruff voice so uncharacteristically meek and vulnerable, and therefore capable of turning her head immediately. ”Please”, he added weakly, ”my girl… I—there’s someone I need to see. Just once. Please.”

Maybe she was curious about meeting the one person who seemed to mean anything to The Punisher anymore; maybe she felt surprisingly bad for him or maybe it was both, but Karen found herself doing as he asked and tracked you down. She reached out and a few days later… you were walking down the hallways of the hospital, uncomfortably shifting the weight of your leather jacket from one arm to the other, your stomach churning in nervous anticipation.

The sight of several armed guards standing outside the room you were being walked to made you gulp, but you weren’t scared of the man inside. You were scared to see the kind of condition he was in, to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, scared of the moment you’d have to walk out in the uncertainty if you’d ever see him again. But not him. Never him.

Something in Frank came to life when you appeared at the doorway; something he thought to be long dead and buried only for you to always revive him. He lifted his head from the worn pillows and sighed in some kind of relief, only for guilt to lodge into his heart when he saw you scanning his body.

He looked awful, no way around it. Littered in bruises so severe you could barely see his face, you struggled not to cry while looking at the multiple machines connected to him and the abundance of bandages on his tired limbs. What really got to you, though, was the handcuffs on his wrists and the straps across his chest and stomach to make sure there was no room for him to move any more than necessary to sit up and lie back down.

”Jesus…”, you sighed breathlessly, your hands beginning to shake as you walked over to him with a frown so deep it hurt his heart. He knew he might have been a selfish asshole for dragging you here, for making you see what he had tried to protect you from this whole time, for letting you get attached right before it would all go to shit, anyway. But he wasn’t strong enough to push you away. He was capable of enduring much, but he was weak when it came to you. He had tried it, at first, keeping you at arm’s length but you got under his skin in a way that was irreversible and it hurt more to resist than it did to give in. For him, anyway.

”Looks worse than it is, sweetheart”, he rasped, and with a scoff, you finally met his eyes only for the depth of them to catch you off-guard and make you choke on your own tongue. He looked just as attentive and kind as the day you had met him — you swore you’d never forget the way he had hid you behind the counter of the diner, looked right into your eyes and promised he’d make sure you’d make it to class tomorrow; what would the kids do without their teacher, after all?

”They said your foot was… that there was a…”, you stammered, hoping to counter his words with an argument that failed as soon as you tried to get it out. He had never judged you for your tendency to stutter, though, and he didn’t do it now, either. Simply nodded and let you process.

”Yeah. Yeah, there was”, he admitted quietly, licking his split lips as he watched you move to the chair next to his bed and slowly sink down. Even with all the pain in your eyes, you looked so beautiful in one of your worn band shirts and the skirt you had promptly tucked it into, your glasses heavy on your nose and the shimmer of your lipbalm like a red thread for Frank to hang onto like his life depended on it. Amidst all the chaos and ache of his recent weeks, he could just close his eyes and think back to you, and somehow he felt at peace. At least for a second.

”I wish I could… make it all better”, you whispered sadly, a lone tear rolling down your cheek as you looked at his bruised cheekbones.

Frank’s hand reached for yours only for the handcuffs to stop him, the noise of the movement alerting the guard outside the door and pulling a swear from Frank. When he settled his hand back by his side, the guard seemed to relax a little, making both of you sigh — the man wasn’t even allowed to hold your hand.

”Oh, sweetheart”, Frank whispered, ”that’s exactly what you do. You make all this shit better.” He managed a small smile as he tilted his head at you. ”I may just make it worse, but you? Christ, you…”, he struggled to put his thoughts into words, keeping you on your toes as he finally decided against it, ”I’preciate you comin’. I just, uh, I guess I wanted to see you before I get dragged into a courtroom and… yeah. Yeah, there’s no happy ending for me. But for a moment there, you helped me believe there might be”, he went on, only breaking your heart with each word.

You wiped your eyes and chuckled softly. ”You don’t give yourself enough credit, Frankie. You’ve really made things better for me, too. And you deserve a happy ending, however that might look for you”, you swore, casting your eyes at your trembling hands. ”I know it might be weird to say, but I’m grateful I met you. Life-threatening danger and all. You and everyone else may not see it the same way, but you are a good guy. You are”, you continued before sniffling and getting up from your chair enough to press a kiss on his forehead.

You were careful and gentle, unwilling to hurt him any more than he had already been hurt. Yet when you moved to pull away, Frank grunted and reached for your wrist, stopping you from leaving. For a moment, you were forehead to forehead, your lips inches away and his breath mixing with yours.

”Sit with me for a bit? Yeah?” Frank pleaded, and when you nodded, he swallowed and smiled weakly. ”That’s my girl.”

He didn’t see you again until the trial. He spotted you right there in the benches, dressed in your finest red shirt that had his thoughts running a million miles while being walked to the stand. He was dressed in a suit, too, and he almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculous thought of a date swirling in his head. Maybe, in another lifetime, that could have been reality — not him being on trial for murder with you trying to tune out the hate speech spewed at him from the other half of the courtroom.

Most of his bruises had healed by then. You found small comfort in that.

You didn’t get to tell him he looked good, though. You didn’t get to say a single thing when he was announcing his guilt with a booming roar, and the next thing you knew, he was being walked out of the courtroom with a prison sentence looming over his head. You didn’t blame him for doing what he did, and you certainly didn’t expect him to choose you over his morals. But nevertheless, you couldn’t help but cry as he was taken out of sight and you were left with the realization you may never see him again.

You were sitting outside on the steps of the courthouse when a strange hand extended a tissue for you. Just as you looked up, nearly blinded by the sunshine, you were glad you hadn’t said your thought out loud when you saw Frank’s lawyer poke his cane at the steps until he figured where to sit. He lowered himself next to you just as you took the tissue and thanked him for his kindness.

”You’re the woman”, he stated matter-of-factly, and when you turned to him in confusion, he chuckled quietly. ”I recognize your perfume. It… stuck to him”, he explained — even if his explanation remained vague — but you had no time to present any further questions when he continued. ”Frank Castle is not a talkative man. But I’ve noticed whenever he does speak, his words carry meaning. He doesn’t do small talk or state the obvious, he… he only shares what he considers important. And if that is the case, then… you are extremely important to him”, he elaborated before drawing in a deep breath and sending a small smile your way.

Your heart both broke and leaped at his words. You hadn’t exactly doubted it, but it meant a great deal to know Frank cherished you as much as you cherished him.

”And he is to me”, you returned quietly, pulling a slow nod from the man — Matt — who then turned his head at you curiously.

”If you don’t mind me asking… how does a teacher find herself with The Punisher?” he wondered, and considering it your turn to chuckle, you turned to your hands and recalled the night that had turned your life upside down.

”He saved my life. I know that’s how all the cliché fairytales go, but he did. I was at my favorite diner to get some grilled cheese after a long day of work. I was so close to making it, too, when these, uh, thugs came in. Looking for him, unsurprisingly. There was only one other person besides us and they managed to escape before the shooting began, so… Frank hid me behind the counter. He told me he’d keep me safe, that I’d get to see the kids I teach again the next day— he’d heard me talking to the cashier. He’d make sure of it. And he did. He took care of those guys and afterwards he walked me home. I—I owed him my life so I figured the least I could do was ice his knuckles. He must have been barely ten minutes in my apartment but it meant everything. We just… couldn’t get rid of each other after that”, you explained, the sunlight suddenly feeling warmer on your skin and the smile on your lips so free of worry. For a second, anyway.

Matt listened intently — not only to what you were saying, but you. And it didn’t take him long to come to a conclusion. ”You love him”, he declared, and with your head snapping towards him, you frowned.

”We haven’t—there’s nothing—”, you began, your stutter seeping through again, and Matt smiled.

”Whether or not you’ve acted on it, I can hear it. You’ve fallen in love with him”, he emphasized before humming, ”and I think, somewhere deep down underneath all that trauma and guilt and unwillingness to face the facts… he feels the same way.”

You stared at him, disbelief all over your face as you thought about Frank and all your brief touches, all your sweet words and reassuring looks.

”Could you tell him I’ll be right here? Please? Just… let him know that even if I can’t be by his side, he’s not alone”, you whispered, and although he seemed to consider it for a second, Matt ended up nodding.

”I’m sure he’s gonna need that.”

And he wasn’t wrong. Prison was no easy feat, not even for The Punisher.

He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to you. One moment he was sitting in court, listening to his vigilante of a lawyer speak on his behalf, and the next he was being dragged out in chains with your worried face amongst the angry civilians being the last thing he saw. And the big bad Punisher had gone so far as to beg Karen to let him see you for the second time; let you see him, but before she could even consider making it happen, he had been shoved into a white onesie and sent on his way to prison with his jagged memories trying hard to recall the last words you had spoken to him.

It had been something kind — that much he had decided on while sitting in his cell. You were always so fucking kind, and so understanding, even when he doubted he deserved it. You were a good person; a troubled one but you had weathered every storm and stuck to your morals, and he admired that to no end. You didn’t have a judgmental bone, not a single ounce of hatred for anyone who didn’t deserve it, sometimes not even those who did. He thought that maybe he was unworthy of your friendship and sympathy sometimes, but you gave it to him anyway, without question and without expectation. You liked him for who he was, not who he had been, and you didn’t try to change his mind and steer his path.

At least he had the message Red had passed onto him to keep him going.

It was those unexplainably good-hearted intentions of yours and the unconditional support he hadn’t realized he missed so much, that made him fall in love with you. He struggled with it for a while, wondering if he was ready; if he should have felt guilty, but eventually the desire to keep you safe and the longing to hold you close became too evident to ignore.

And he truly knew when one of the assholes he had put down had taunted him about his lady, only for his mind to go to you instead of Maria.

He had been writing a letter to you when his heart-pouring onto paper was interrupted by a taunting laugh outside his cell. ”Writing a love letter to your lady?” one of the gang members in his block teased, and with a grit in his teeth, Frank forced himself to not pick a fight — a successful attempt until the burly man went on. ”Would be a shame if anyone got their hands on your girl now that you ain’t out there to protect—”, he continued, his words cut off with a wheeze when Frank clamored out of his seat and promptly stabbed the pen into his neck. It was a good thing he had already signed the letter.

Realistically, he knew it may have been an empty threat. Nonetheless, as soon as he was out of prison, the letter tucked in the pocket of his jacket, he made his way to you. Making you were safe was priority number one — and if he’d get the chance to hand over the envelope and open his heart to you… Well, that would just be the cherry on top. He had promised to get out and tell you how he felt, to stop being a coward and admit that he wanted to be there for you, that he loved you, and that was exactly what he planned on doing.

Although, things never went exactly as planned.

He had so much determination and courage in his heart when he knocked on your door, but as soon as you opened it and your short figure appeared right in front of him, it all drained from his system. All he was left with was bare amazement and the reserved hope that you’d still welcome him into your home — he knew he had burned more than enough bridges with his little stunt in court, and he had spent many sleepless nights wondering if he had scared you off, too. That worry only now flared into a genuine fear as he watched astonishment wipe across your face, his own expression meek and his large body trying to shrink on itself to seem less intimidating.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he managed, his voice raspy as ever, his dark eyes scanning your face and trying to make sense of the speechless trance you had been stunned into.

It was justified, of course. Who would expect a convicted criminal on their doorstep?

That wasn’t exactly what was on your mind, though. You had never doubted that Frank would get back up somehow; he couldn’t be kept down — but you couldn’t believe he had come to you. A man like him surely had places to be, people to kill, things to do and somehow… he was right there in front of you in all his glory, not bleeding out and in need of stitches, either. Just… there.

You didn’t realize how emotional the sight of him had gotten you until you opened your mouth and the words escaped you with a choke. ”Is it okay if I hug you?” you cracked, and with a deep, even relieved sigh, Frank let his tense shoulders drop and his head bob in a nod as he opened his arms.

He welcomed you gladly, his big arms winding around your smaller body to encompass you against his entirely. He realized then that you were wrapped up in one of the hoodies he had left behind, his confidence boosting but his heart breaking just a little at the thought of you sitting at home alone in his clothes, comforted by his scent and wondering if he’d ever come back to you. And right there and then, he knew he had made the right choice in doing so.

”I missed you”, you whispered into his chest, your heart doing somersaults at the firmness of it, your eyes fallen shut as you breathed him in and basked in his warmth and all his rough edges that only confirmed he was real and not a figment of your imagination, not a daydream, even if he had occupied nearly all of them for the past months.

”Missed ya too, girl”, he muttered into your hair, and as he held you there, grateful to have you again, the doubt began creeping in and the letter in his pocket started to seem like a bad idea. What if it would simply push you away, just when he got you in his arms?

Swallowing, he then decided maybe it was better not to bring it up.

”Hey, I, uh…”, he cleared his throat when you stepped back to welcome him into your apartment. He treaded carefully, like any second now you’d change your mind and turn him away — and he wouldn’t blame you, either. Trouble followed him wherever he went, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from coming to you every time. ”Look, there’s… a lot going on, y’know? Some shit might go down and I just…”, he continued, uncertain of his own words as his gaze fell to the nervously fiddling hands in front of him, ”I don’t want ya to look at the news and rethink the kinda guy I am, y’know?”

Chuckling, you shook your head at him. ”The news couldn’t change my mind about you, Frankie”, you reassured in a way that had his chest tightening. ”You’re my friend and—and a good guy, even if with… unique methods. But you are. Just because you have blood on your hands, doesn’t make you a bad man”, you went on, but he could tell you were nervous, too. He just couldn’t see past himself enough to understand it wasn’t fear making you tremble.

”I think you are loyal and sweet and protective and… capable of making people feel safe and appreciated. When I’m with you, I feel respected and understood. Never judged or unsafe”, you added, and with an amazed twinkle in his dark eyes, Frank looked up at you. Jesus, that was exactly how he felt around you. His lungs and throat were screaming at him to just tell you, but instead, he gave you a doubtful tilt of his head.

”You’re not scared?” he confirmed quietly, and with a small smile, you gave him a look.

”I’m not scared of you, Frank. I’m…”, you breathed in, hesitating before widening your smile and shaking your head, ”I’m not scared.” What you really wanted to tell was that you were nervous because you liked him — loved him. But you never felt threatened by him.

”Good”, he swallowed, defiance suddenly ablaze in his eyes as he seemed to relax. ”’Cause I’d never hurt ya. Shit, you make me wanna…”, he laughed, unsure where he was going with that thought. ”I just wanna keep you safe, sweetheart. Look after you”, he finished with a sigh, the kind that knew he was officially in too deep. You got him good.

”Then I’ll look after you, too”, you promised, gesturing at his hands, ”starting with those knuckles of yours.”

He was almost amused, but when you seriously dug a small tube of hand cream from your bag and began rubbing the lotion onto his bruised hands, all he could do was stare at you, completely enamored by your kindness and the feeling of your gentle hands tending to his damaged ones.

It was almost ironic, really — you were gentle, he was damaged. In your mind, it was the other way around, and maybe that was why it worked. You were different in so many ways but the bare essentials were still there, making you an undeniable match even if neither of you were brave enough to say it out loud right now. But him being in your apartment and you lotioning his calloused hands spoke in volumes, reassuring you both that it was safe like this.

He hadn’t been wrong, though. Shit hit the fan fast and in a matter of days, Frank Castle was a dead man as far as the world was concerned.

Before that, though, he was coaxed further into the realization of just how important you were to him. He was used to nightmares, in fact, he anticipated them each night. And yet, that night, his hands still smelling like your vanilla lotion, he found himself dreaming of you, your big smile, your sweet laugh and your soft lips.

Jesus Christ, he wanted you so bad. All of you.

It was a little harder to go about his mission then. You occupied his mind constantly now, and he began to resent himself for being such a coward and not giving you the letter, after all.

And when he jumped off an exploding ship, he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to tell you. Once he made it out in one piece, he decided he couldn’t risk losing the opportunity again.

You had just seen the news on the TV, and as badly as you wanted to believe no body meant no death, your stomach was twisting and turning. The idea of Frank being gone, just like that, was one that began chipping at your sanity. Thankfully, you didn’t get to sit with it for very long when there was a knock on your door, and you practically ran to open it, never more relieved to see the hunk of a man.

You tugged him into your apartment and sealed the door behind him before hugging him tight, on the verge of tears as you felt his firm body against yours and consoled yourself. He was there. He was alive. Well? Debatable.

”I’m okay, sweetheart, ’m okay. Can’t get rid of me that easy”, he chuckled darkly, his heart skipping a beat when you pulled away and looked right into his eyes. You looked so beautiful yet so vulnerable, and he couldn’t put his feelings into words when he realized he had gotten you so worked up. He hated to cause you any pain, but to know you cared that much?

”Shit…”, he breathed, licking his lips as he gently placed a hand on your jaw and groaned. ”C’mere”, he whispered before leaning down to kiss you, both your eyes closing as he placed his lips on yours, deep and tentative. You melted closer to him, your hands resting on his vest while he cupped your face and kissed you hard, breathing you in and reveling in the taste and feeling of you.

It was better than he had imagined, all anger and hatred leaving his system for the fleeting moment when he got to have just you, nothing else.

He wanted to take his sweet time with you but the yearning was too great to contain. In no time, you were lying on your back on your mattress with Frank on top of you, trying to hold back some of his weight as he kissed your neck and unzipped your skirt. He muttered words of praise and flattery against your soft skin, eyes blown wide with genuine admiration when he kissed his way down to your thighs and made you repeat his name in desperate begs and pleas.

A part of him was sure he was dreaming again, your head rested upon his bare chest, his fingers carding through your hair as you listened to his heartbeat and basked in the afterglow of the hours spent together. It was the middle of the night by now, the sounds of city never fully gone but toned down, your bed feeling like a safe haven amidst all the chaos around you both.

But Frank knew there was no permanent escape from what he had reshaped his life into. The thing was, you didn’t want to be an escape — you wanted to be part of it.

Nevertheless, he spoke up gruffly. ”Y’know I can’t stay, right?” he was quiet, his words a weak whisper, like a shameful confession he didn’t want the world to know. ”I mean, I’mma be with you tonight if you’ll let me, but I… I can’t leave things unfinished. The world thinks ’m dead, y’know, that’s just… It’s an advantage and I just—”, he went on, but you interjected with a nod and your hand smoothing up and down his chest soothingly.

”I know. I understand”, you promised before kissing his collarbone softly, ”I know, Frank. You don’t need to explain any more than you want to.”

He swallowed then, trying to muster up the courage to say what had been on his mind for so long. ”I, uh, I can’t ask you to hold out hope for me, but uh… I just want you to know…”, he tried to find the right words, licking his lips nervously before sighing and burying his face in your hair with a somber kiss. ”You don’t owe me shit. But you’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time. Look, I gotta do my thing, but I don’t want you to think it’s easy to walk away from you because, fuck… I don’t wanna lose ya, sweetheart”, he explained further, making you smile against his scarred skin.

”I will always hold out hope for you, Frank. My door will always be open for you”, you replied simply, and even though you didn’t elaborate further, it was all he needed to hear. Just knowing you weren’t ready to give up on him.

And that was why he wasn’t going to do it, either.

He kept in touch in whatever small, Frank-esque ways he could. A note on your door, a novelty mug on your windowsill, a comforting message from an unknown number. Sometimes all you had was the remains of his aftershave enveloped in the sweaters he had left behind, or the slander of his name on the news even when he was presumed dead — it was small but it reminded you that he was, in fact, alive, and as long as he was that, then you had faith that one day he’d be back on your doorstep.

Sometimes he felt like an irredeemable asshole for making you wait for him. If only you had the chance, you would have told him to get his head out of his ass — you had fallen for him, and whether he wanted you to be there or not, you would have thought about him, worried over him, longed for him. He could have tried to distance himself from you if he wanted to, but he was so deeply entwined into your life by now that all the roots simply couldn’t be plucked out anymore.

And he may have been stubborn, but he wasn’t stupid. Knowing how he felt about you, how being away from you made him ache, he suspected you shared the yearning and he knew that trying to push you away wouldn’t have healed either of you from it. So he kept in contact however he could, but not too close to keep his enemies off your trail.

You checked the news every day. And when you saw Billy Russo’s face plastered across your screen, his arrest making the headlines, you knew it was a good day.

Accordingly, there was promptly a knock on your door, and you felt your heart soar as you peeked through the peephole and saw the only man worth waiting for on the other side. You swung the door open, and in an instant, a smile stretched across his bruised face as he help up a bouquet of daffodils, making you grin, too.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he murmured, pulling you into a hug that shut off your senses from everything but him — all you smelled, felt and heard was him, your systems threatening to fail as you clung onto him like your life depended on it and felt his lips leave soft kisses on your forehead and hair. ”There ya are. As goddamn beautiful as I remembered”, he whispered, relieved to be holding you again, even a little proud of himself for making it here.

It wasn’t like he needed the extra motivation on all those long nights away — avenging his family was all the fuel he craved, but knowing that at the end of it all, he had someone to fall back on, encouraged him even more.

”I could say the same about you”, you chuckled while pulling away enough to place a gentle hand on his face and observe all the purple and yellow markings left there. It was obvious he had taken a beating, but if the news was to be trusted, Billy had suffered a fate much worse. And despite all the slowly healing scars on Frank’s sharp features, he was alive, and he was right there for you to admire and tend to.

”This ugly mug?” he snorted while kicking the door shut and pushing his hood off of his head, his hair grown out again and begging for your fingers to run through. Regardless of the mangled appearance, though, he seemed almost hopeful, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you with a twinkle in his dark eyes. He seemed exhausted physically, but mentally, a little less tired. And that made you indescribably happy for him.

”I’m proud of you”, you breathed out, a smile crawling to your own face, ”you did what you needed to do, right? You… you did good. You deserve to rest now.”

Frank looked a little taken aback by your words. Not in a bad way, but it was obvious no one had told him before nor had he expected anyone to. But the quiet chuckle that rose from his throat was genuinely flattered, as was the squint of his eyes as he leaned forward and gave you a tiny nod.

”Thank you, sweetheart. Really”, he rasped before taking in a deep breath, ”any chance I’d, uh, get to rest here? With you?” The look in his eyes was almost boyish, almost nervous, and it made your heart soar the same way his gaze had the first night you had met.

”Always, Frankie”, you promised before placing a hand on his chest and beaming up at him, ”I was hoping you’d say that.”

He licked his lips and looked down at you, hand coming to your neck tenderly with his thumb brushing across your chin. ”I feel like shit for the way I left you back then. I, uh, I hope you didn’t feel like I was just… tryna get in your bed, y’know? It was more than that to me. You are more than that to me. It’s, I dunno, hard for me to put it into words but I care about ya. More than I have about anyone in a long time, I guess”, he explained awkwardly, but you didn’t doubt his sincerity for a single second.

You leaned up to briefly kiss him, and the way he leaned forward to get more made your stomach churn. Nevertheless, you pulled apart to speak your turn, your smaller hand still resting on his bruised cheek.

”I know. I never doubted it. And I don’t expect you to be anyone else but you. I want you as you, Frank”, you reassured, and with a heavy sigh, he dropped his forehead to yours.

”Girl… I want you”, he urged, and you smiled as he briefly touched your lips with the tip of his finger.

”I’m all yours, Frankie.”

[slxsherr]

Everybody Talks!!

part I of Too Much!!

pairing: cinephile!charlie walker x melophile!fem!reader

summary: it's both you and charlie's last year as president of your respective clubs, but can charlie put years of rivalry behind him for a simple favor?

wc: 1375

warnings: fem!reader, rivals to lovers, cursing/swearing, public sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (m! receiving), mentions of choking

Whoever put Music Club next to Cinema Club at the club fair, Charlie swears he’s gonna kill them. You and everyone in your stupid club are insufferable, pretentious little fucks who they think know things about music that nobody else knows. You would say the same thing about Charlie and all the members of his club when it comes to movies. 

“Join Music Club! Get an extracurricular on your college apps just for listening to music!” You yell, attracting students to your booth, already on your third sign-up sheet. 

Not that it matters, over half of them won’t show up anyways. And you know that, but you don’t care. The numbers look great for your club, and if you get enough members you’ll probably be able to get an approved budget for live shows. 

Charlie and Robbie sit behind their booth, having a casual conversation as the usual people come up to sign-up for the year, interrupted occasionally by a curious freshman. It’s their senior year, last year running their club, so they’re taking it easy, wanting to enjoy it while they can. You’re the opposite, gunning for more members, more money, more events, it’s impressive really. 

By the time the lunch period is over, you’ve got three and a half pages full of names, phone numbers, and emails, all interested in joining your club. Charlie’s got two and a half pages, not bad, but he knows you’re gonna rub it in his face. It doesn’t take long after the courtyard clears out and your lackeys start packing up for you to come over to his booth, a smug grin on your face. 

“Hey, Walker, did your movie club get any new members this year?” You ask, leaning against his booth. 

“A few, and it’s Cinema Club,” Charlie answers, correcting you.

“Hm, well, according to the school website it’s Movie Club, but whatever,” you say, knowing it’s been bothering him since sophomore year that the school gets it wrong. Every. Single. Year. 

“How about you?” Charlie asks, knowing you won’t go away until he does. 

“Oh, we hit triple digits this year,” you say, all too satisfied with yourself. 

“You know most of them aren’t going to show up,” he says, wanting to knock you down a peg. 

“Yeah, but it still looks great on paper. Anyway, see you in lit,” you say, unphased, leaving him to finish packing up your booth. 

Charlie brushes off the whole encounter, knowing he’s in for another year of “obviously music is better than movies” argument he’s gonna get from you whenever he gets caught up in whatever pissing contest you’ve made up with him. He would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him how much more active and accepted your club is, but he always keeps a cool demeanor. If you knew how much it actually bothered him your ego would inflate more than it already has. 

A month out from Stab-A-Thon, you show up to a Cinema Club meeting. You sit in a back corner of the classroom, physically there but he can tell you’ve mentally checked out before the meeting has even started. You didn’t think he’d let that happen, did you? 

“Before we begin today’s meeting,” Charlie begins, the club members, new and old, quickly shutting up. “I’d like to welcome a very special guest, the president of our school’s very own Music Club,” Charlie says, gesturing to where you’re sitting.

You don’t say anything, just smile and wave at the club members who turn to look at you, but Charlie can feel the irritation radiating off of you when you lock eyes with him. He continues the meeting as usual after that, and unsurprisingly you don’t participate at all. But you stay seated throughout the whole meeting, and even as members file out when the meeting is over, you stay seated. As soon as it’s just you, Robbie, and Charlie, you stand up, making your way to them as they pack up whatever they brought. 

“I need a favor,” you say, leaning against a desk at the front of the classroom. 

“Oh? And what makes you think we’ll help?” Charlie asks, turning around to face you.

“Just hear me out,” you begin to say, but Robbie interrupts you. 

“Make it quick, I’m trying to go home,” he says, grumbling.

“You can go home, it’s just Charlie I need to talk to,” you say, giving him a pointed look for interrupting. 

“Alright, then. Later!” Robbie says, grabbing his things and leaving, no doubt monologuing as he does. 

“Are you gonna hear me out?” You ask, stepping closer to him. 

“Why should I?” Charlie asks, trying to hide his nervousness as you get closer to him. 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” you say, breath fanning against his ear as your lips ghost over the skin of his neck.

“H-How?” He asks, fingers gripping the edge of the teacher’s desk he leans against harder. 

“Like this,” you answer, your hand going to undo his jeans. 

The moan he lets out is embarrassing, but you think otherwise, heat pooling in your lower stomach at the sound. He drops his head forward, long hair covering his face, trying to suppress his whimpers as you stroke him over his boxers. 

“Will you hear me out now?” You ask, pulling his head up to look at you with a harsh tug of his hair.

“Yes! Just please, keep going,” he answers, desperate when your movements stop for even a short moment. 

You drop to your knees in front of him, pulling his pants and underwear down. Teasing kisses and bites are scattered across his thighs, and he whines each time you ignore where he needs you most. When you finally take him into your mouth, he nearly chokes on the sound he lets out, hips moving on their own and choking you on his cock. 

“I’m sorry,” he says when you pull off of him, stroking him with your hand while the other massages your throat. 

“It’s okay, just try to keep still,” you say, hand moving from your throat to his stomach, pushing his shirt up his chest to reveal more skin. “As much as I like those sounds you’re making, you need to be quiet. Don’t wanna get caught, right?” You say, voice the slightest bit hoarse from his accidental abuse. 

“No,” he breathes out an answer, stomach tensing the more you work him with your hand, trying to keep still like you said. 

��Good boy, then bite your shirt,” you instruct, holding the hem of his shirt up to his mouth, letting him bite the rolled up fabric. “You’re such a pretty boy, Charlie,” you say, hand moving down his chest, nails gently scratching his skin. “With such a pretty cock,” you say, kissing his tip before taking him in your mouth again. 

He’s a good size, average in length, but more impressive in girth. Heavy in your mouth, you ignore the ache in your jaw as an ache spreads from between your thighs, wishing he was there instead. Maybe some other time. 

Your hands hold his thighs and hips, keeping him still when he fails to do so himself. You can feel him restraining himself from fucking your face, hands gripping the wooden edge he leans against, moans and whimpers muffled by his now soggy shirt.

Entirely focused on the taste of him, you fail to comprehend his unintelligent cries. Charlie’s trying to tell you he’s close, words muted by his drool soaked shirt, but you’re not listening, not letting up, warm, wet mouth working him to his end. Without thinking, his hands force your head down, nose pressed against his pelvis as he releases down your throat, choking you on his thick head and cum. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, breathing heavily as you pull away and massage your throat, coughing a bit.

“That’s okay, just warn me next time,” you say, rising to your feet. 

“Next time?” He asks as he pulls his boxers and pants up. 

“If that’s what it took to get you to hear me out, I imagine it’ll take much more for you to actually say yes,” you explain, reminding him of the favor that started all of this.

[feminist-space]

There is nothing wrong with a person who wears adult diapers. Those are an aid, a tool, to help that person be more mobile and preserve their dignity.

If someone has tremors in their hands and needs help picking up everyday objects, that doesn't take away from who they are as a person. There's no dishonor in muscular tremors.

If someone can't see or hear, or can only see or hear with aid of a tool, a piece of technology, that's fine! Here's a really simple one: so many of us wear glasses because our eyes can't do the thing on their own.

Having disabilities doesn't take away from who a person is. Mocking someone for needing aid to do things, however, is morally repugnant. And using ableism to put down or mock someone who themselves is morally reprehensible is still never ok.

It is important for all of us to re-examine how we, too, perform ableist acts in our daily lives. Here are some simple ones:

Stop using ableist words (check out this page: https://www.autistichoya.com/p/ableist-words-and-terms-to-avoid.html).

Stop calling disabled people "inspirational" and using them as a way to say "if they can do it then so can you" (see: paralympic commentaries from the same people who still support organizations like Autism Speaks -- https://www.themarysue.com/the-autism-speaks-controversy-explained/).

Stop mocking people for not being able to move the way you think they should move.

Stop calling bigots "crazy" (their bigotry isn't a mental illness).

Stop saying that "only disabled and immuno-compromised people are at risk from COVID-19" when what is unsaid after that is "so that's why I don't need to care about it or take any precautions."

Stop calling someone "blind" or "deaf" when they're being ignorant.

Stop making fun of someone for taking an elevator or using a motorized scooter at the store.

Eliminate the stigma of disabled people asking for accessibility by making things accessible in the first place.

When you're in a position to design things, physical or otherwise (buildings, software, apps), think about accessibility.

Actively learn from disability activists, what things are actually helpful and actually accessible. Incorporate those things into your design.

Hire and elevate to positions of leadership people with disabilities (and if your gut response is "but we hire by merit," I challenge you: are you telling me you don't think disabled folks can perform the duties of leaders in your organization? What are you saying, exactly?).

Change your organization to be supportive to disabled employees, and get rid of policies that marginalize them.

There's a whole LOT of ableism weaved in to literally everything. Even if we don't get it all in one go (and we won't), it's important to put in the work to do better.

--

Before someone comments with these:

"what's wrong with people?"

Ableism is EVERYWHERE, it is in EVERYTHING in this world and we have to actively work against it. Don't assume you're exempt. None of us are.

"who says these things?" "who does these things?"

A lot of people. A lot of people you might love. A lot of people that might include us (likely, actually). These mostly aren't monsters in alleyways saying and doing ableist things.

It's the nurse getting annoyed at the person using a wheelchair for having their wheelchair there. It's the dude at the gym who tells his friend that if those paralympians can do it, they definitely can do it. It's the person who keeps telling their friend with long covid to just do more yoga. It's the liberal angry at Trump who mocks him by saying he wears adult diapers. It's the person who builds a business branded and marketed on being kumbaya "we're so progressive" but they made their doors so heavy that they're hard for anyone to open and definitely impossible to open for a wheelchair user. It's the boomer telling a young person using a disabled parking spot that young people can't be disabled. It is literally everywhere. It's that guy telling disabled people they shouldn't be out past sunset ("we're disabled, Daniel, we're not werewolves."--Jen L Rossman).

--

Reading list, obviously not exhaustive:

https://thebodyisnotanapology.com/magazine/14-black-disabled-women-reminding-us-of-our-power/

https://thedailytexan.com/2018/03/23/stop-using-ableist-language-and-call-out-others-who-use-it

https://www.autistichoya.com/p/ableist-words-and-terms-to-avoid.html

https://www.tolerance.org/magazine/no-joking-matter-words-and-disability

https://diaryofadisabledperson.blog/

https://www.thegauntlet.news/p/disabled-peoples-exclusion-from-indoor

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/being-grabbed-pushed-touched-without-27376323

https://www.sociability.app/blog/the-medical-vs-social-model-of-disability

[yuzurins]

streamer!suna x streamer!reader - this was so self indulgent and badly written in my notes app but it’s ok i want to be back here bc tumblr is fun haha

“me? and y/n?” suna scoffed, face showing no hint of reaction. “now that’s too much, you guys are overthinking it.”

he mumbled, deep in concentration, as his eyes darted back and forth from his game to the rapidly moving chat screen.

**h789: don’t act like we didn’t see you build a whole house for her!!!

**n.m**y: you literally got her a whole tank of axolotls THOSE THINGS TAKE SO MUCH TIME TO GET

su**: the flowers MAN the flowers 😞

**be*17***: and the list goes on…

suna rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh. “were you guys here when i literally blew the house down and kidnapped all the axolotls?? it was an elaborate plan to prank her and make her scared of course.”

miya**sam**: shut up bro😭

mk**j1*: 🫢🫢🫢

g****0a: SUNA THE BIG FAT BULLY

su**: he’s bullying her bc he likes her

miya**sam**: ewww how sadistic of him

uu**720**n*: IT TAKES TWO??? HELLO???

luvv**esu***0: nah guys he’s dating me why would he be with y/n

k*tss**k: imagine being delulu

**h789: my bae yn too good for him she’s thousands times better than u

a look of disgust crosses his face.

luvv**esu***0: stop he just doesn’t know it yet!!

su**: just stop it’s so embarrassing t-t

h**y*vs*: are you sure guys

h**y*vs*: feels like sunarin wouldn’t be that mean to his girlfriend :(

“no literally, i hate her guts.” he paused the game he was currently playing, opened up a new tab and searched up “sunarin being mean to y/n”

scrolling down the long page of search results, he stared at the camera with a face that screams “told you so” and laughed.

“chat, you guys can fantasize all you want, but just know that there’s tons of evidence online that can prove you all wrong in less than a second, so it’s just funny seeing you all believe that me and her are actually dating-“

now as if on cue, you burst into the room in your pajamas and dashed over to the boy sitting by the computer.

suna flinched and turned around immediately, panic starting to overcome his face. “what the-“

“RINNNN PLEASE PLEASE PLEAAAASEEEE CAN WE GET A CAT I REALLY WANT A CAT SO BADDDD I PROMISE ILL TAKE CARE OF IT AND CLEAN UP ALL OF ITS POOP I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLYYY JUST WANT A CAT ITS BEEN MY DREAM ALL MY LIFE!!!!!” you blabbered nonstop as you clung onto his arm, not giving suna a chance to interrupt you at all.

“y/n what are you talking about i’m kinda streaming right now-“

“IF YOURE SCARED ILL STOP LOVING YOU AFTER WE GET THE CAT I WONT I PROMISE I REALLY DO SO Please don’t say—” seeing the look on his face, you turned around to see the thousands of people spamming the chat, finally realizing what he was trying to tell you and shrunk down in disbelief. “no….”

miya**sam**: told you so

miya**sam**: hi y/n!! 🤣

su**: OMG

mk**j1*: NEOJDDIJDJC NO WAYYY

**h789: SHES ADORABLE I LOVE YN

g****0a: STRIMMER EXPOSED

atsu**b*****: LOLOLOL

suna immediately turns his webcam and microphone off.

your boyfriend scowls as you give him an innocent smile.

uh oh, busted.

[melschapstick]

CAMPFIRE ❦

this is part 1!

prologue, part 0.5, part 2 !!

pairing : nemesis!matt x fem!reader

summary : in which you, your best friends nick and chris, your nemesis matt and two other boys from your class, ethan and finn, are listed for the same 6 week summer camp, as counselors.

(^^this is for every part btw.)

warnings : slight jealousy if you squint, nothing else that I can think of

not proofread

a/n : I hope this is good cause I just finished writing and I don't feel like proofreading right now 😭 I already have a good idea for the story of this whole series though, so I hope y'all stay seated even though this isn't smut, you dirty people (I do read smut)

also, english is not my first language!!

disclaimer : i tend to be descriptive (sometimes more, sometimes less), so if you’re not down with descriptive fics, my page isn’t the right one for you. 

word count : 2.1k

╰──╮-ˋˏ✧༻ ❀ ༺✧ˎˊ-╭──╯

he didn’t want them to know that he did care.  

after looking at those photos for a little, you stand up and pin them to the pin board right above your bed. 

matt looks at what you’re doing for a moment, instantly recognizing the photo. 

 he sighs, but as he realizes that he did sigh a little loud, he quickly turns away so you don’t notice him.

you turn around since you did hear him sigh, and you could have sworn that you saw him looking in your direction, even seeming somewhat sad, but now you’re unsure. 

you let it go, not really caring anyways. 

you let yourself fall back onto your bed, getting out your phone. 

you start to aimlessly scroll through all the apps. 

after a few moments, you realize matt also finished unpacking. 

he sits down on his bed and gets out his phone as well, scrolling through it just like you.

you guys sit there in silence for a bit, around 15 minutes probably. 

you’re still just sitting on your beds, not talking at all when out of the blue, you hear matt say something.

“when does the meeting start again?” he questions, looking at you. 

“3pm sharp.” you mumble, no intention of keeping this conversation going.

it’s 2:26pm right now. 

out of the corner of you eye, you see matt getting up. 

“I’m going on a walk, exploring the campsite a bit.” he states, putting on his shoes that he left at the door of our cabin.

you look at him as he opens the door. he seems hesitant about something. 

right when he is about to close the door your gaze is already back on your phone. 

oddly enough, you see the door creak open a bit again instead of falling into the lock. you don’t mind it though. he probably just forgot to take his cabin key with him.

you realize that you’re wrong when you hear him sigh slightly.

“you wanna come?” he asks, almost seeming a bit shy. 

you look at him blankly for a moment. 

“what?” you mumble, his words not quite registering in your brain. 

why would he ask you to come with him? huh?

“the walk, wanna come with?” he repeats. 

“oh, uh, I don’t know. I’m not feeling too well, I think it’s better if I just stay here.” you mumble, completely out of it. your mind just can’t seem to get a grip on the thought of matt asking you to come on a walk with him. like what? that’s just too random. 

he shrugs, mumbling a silent “alright” as he lets the door fall back into the lock. 

for the next few minutes, you try to let this whole thing go, your minds being a bitch though, replaying this weird conversation over and over again. 

matt? 

the guy that dumped your friendship for some girl that he neither knew back then, nor is still friends with? 

that gullible boy from then, that didn’t exchange a word with you ever since? 

the one that thinks he’s above it all, like he wasn’t the one to ruin everything? 

the one that’s ego is the biggest fucking thing on earth? 

what the fuck?

after another moment of these thoughts rushing through, your mind seems to calm down a bit. 

for the remaining free time, until the meeting, you stay on your phone, scrolling through tiktok and texting with your parents for a few minutes. 

right as you check the time, which is 2:52pm, you hear the door creaking open. you instantly look up, slightly shook. 

you put a hand on your chest, almost reflexive. “god.” you breathe, your chest heaving as you try to calm down from the sudden adrenaline-shock. 

as you hear a soft chuckle coming from matt’s direction, you look up at him.

he’s smiling? at you? and even if that smile was only slightly, what?? 

was he trying to make you forget everything that’s ever happened or what? does he think you’re that gullible of a person?

he clearly doesn’t know shit a bout you. 

yet, you can’t seem to not slightly smile as you see him chuckle like that.

you don’t say anything though. 

the only thing leaving your mouth is a sigh since you have to get going to be on time for the meeting.

you stand up from your neatly made bed, step onto the floor and walk over to the door, grabbing your shoes. 

as the grip of your hands holds them in place, you walk back towards your bed, sitting down on the edge, putting on your shoes. 

when you’re done, you stand up walking towards the door. matt is waiting outside the cabin.

as you walk out, you quickly grab your cabin key from the hooks attached to the wall, closing the door behind you.

“wait does this lock itself or do I have to lock it?” you question, looking between matt and the door.

“it should’ve locked itself as far as I know.” he says, shrugging. 

you push the door handle down, finding that it did lock itself.

turning around, you and matt start to head for the great hall.

the whole way there is, again, filled with nothing. 

trees, benches, lanterns and pure silence are the only things surrounding you. 

as you follow the path towards the great hall, you can’t help but again adore the nature of this campsite. the trees, the grass, the flowers, everything looks perfect. 

you keep walking, still not stopping to look at every single thing. if you could’ve, you would’ve taken thousands of photos of everything already, but you don’t want to be late to the meeting. 

we you guys arrive by the great hall, you see both other teams already waiting outside. 

as they all notice you guys, nick and chris start walking over to you quickly. nick instantly hugs you. 

“how’s everything going? is it at least okay?” he asks and you just shrug as he lets go of the hug.   

“he’s acting weird, honestly.” you state as chris pulls you in for a hug as well. 

“what about you guys though? how are ethan and finn?” you ask, looking between both of them. 

“ethan is chill as fuck, honetstly. I can’t talk for finn though.” chris says, looking at you at first but then at nick. 

“yeah no, finn is amazing.” nick states, seeming almost excited. 

chris and you exchange suspicious glances.

“amazing, huh?” you mock.

“amazing is probably another word for ‘he could be gay’ or something?” chris giggles as nick punches him in the side slightly. 

“shh, stop! I don’t want him to hear y’all! stupid fucks.” nick whispers, chuckling. 

“eughh, I don’t want him to hear y’all.” chris mocks, childish as always. 

“chris!” nick whisper-shouts.

chris just giggles, looking at you. 

you chuckle as well before you guys head towards the others. 

the six of you stand in front of the great hall in silence, waiting for ellie, or just anyone, to welcome you inside. 

a few moments later, the door of the great hall is opened widely. 

all of you turn to look at the door, being met with ellie smiling at all of you.

“hi! come in!” she welcomes you, gesturing for all of you to enter the hall. 

one by one, all of you enter. there are a few tables pushed together to form one big group table for 2, 4, 6… 11 people. 

each of you sit down somewhere. you end up sitting next to nick, on your left, and ethan, on your right. 

“just like that. find your seat and feel free to chat for a moment. the kitchen team should be here any minute now!” ellie announces, but there seems to be no time left to chat as only a few seconds later two women and two men come in as well.

ellie comes in after them, closing the door of the great hall behind her. 

“okay, that should be all of us! I welcome you guys to this meeting.” ellie says kindly.

“riley, anna, noah and james, meet y/n, matt, nick, chris, ethan and finn, our counsellors for the next six weeks! y/n, matt, nick, chris, ethan and finn, meet riley, anna, noah and james, our kitchen team!” ellie says warmly as weal just smile at each other.

“alright, let’s dive right in. I welcome the ten of you to this year’s first staff meeting, here at summer camp ‘blue horizon’! I hope that we’ll each and all together have a great time.” ellie announces, smiling at each of us. 

“prepare to listen to a long list of information and feel free to take notes.” ellie states, already implying that it’s going to be a lot to memorize. 

“first things first, as, I think, I already mentioned, each team will be taking care of 15 kids in total. if I haven’t mentioned that yet, you know now. each of your cabins is surrounded by 3 other cabins, each for 5 kids. there’s one only girls group, one only boys group and one that’s mixed.” there’s a huge pile of papers in front of ellie, she grabs one of them. “cabin W1, chris and ethan, you’ll be taking care of the only boys group. cabin H1, nick and finn, you’ll be taking care of the only girls group. that leaves cabin L1, y/n and matt, to take care of the mixted group.” ellie informs everyone.

“oh , and during breakfast, lunch and dinner, you’ll also sit in groups of 17, the cabin groups, that is.” she adds before diving into the next topic.

“secondly, you’ll find the program lists for each week every Monday morning outside the great hall. there’s a waterproof pinboard that each daily-program plan will be pinned to for that week.  for tomorrow, I can already tell you, it’ll be exploring the campsite in the morning between breakfast and lunch, and in the afternoon, cabin L1 will be doing lake activities, cabin W1 will be doing fun games and cabin H1 will be doing crafting, alright?” ellie says, looking at every one of the teams, making sure they know their duties for tomorrow. “oh, and also, chris and ethan will be having breakfast duty this week, nick and finn will be having lunch duty and maya and matt will be having dinner duty.” ellie clarifies.

“that’s almost everything I have on my list for today since I didn’t want to overload all of you with information. the last thing is about the goal of this camp in general.” ellie says as she gets out another paper that she hands to all 6 of you, all counsellors. 

“as you can see on the photos, the camp was badly damaged last year. the nature is already pretty much fixed or almost done, you won’t be having to focus on that. what I need all of you to do though is that I need you to improve the program, and I mean all of it. I will need you to fix some things, rebuild them stronger than they were before and overall just perfecting them. you won’t be having to focus on that for the next few days, but it will be your task for these 6 weeks. I will get into detail on this in the next meeting. I’ll let you know soon enough when exactly that is.” ellie explains. 

“I hope I can count on every single one of you.” she says, smiling at you.

“counsellors, you are dismissed for now. meet back here with the kitchen team at 5:15pm, alright?” ellie says as she looks at the six of you.

all of you nod, standing up from your seats.

as you leave the great hall, you can hear ellie say “alright kitchen team, now to what’s important for you.” before the door closes. 

you go over to nick and chris. “I’m allowed to go to you guys’ cabins, no?” you question, not quite sure. 

“yeah, I’m pretty sure.” nick states. 

“alright, I’ll come with then.” you say, grinning at nick, not leaving him a choice.

before y’all can head to nick’s cabin though, you hear someone saying your name. 

“y/n?” someone says.

you turn around, being met with ethan. 

“I was wondering if you have time?” he asks, seeming a bit nervous.

“time for what, exactly?” you question confusedly, chuckling a bit. 

“to go on a walk. with me. alone.” ethan states.

“oh, uh,” you mumble, looking back at nick who’s grinning stupidly. 

“yeah, of course.” you say as you turn back to ethan, smiling at him. 

the two of you start to walk away and as you hear chris yell “oh, come on, where are you going with my cabin partner? y/n? hello?” to annoy you, you notice matt standing slightly behind him with an unreadable expression. 

is he pissed?

╭──╯-ˋˏ✧༻ ❀ ༺✧ˎˊ-╰──╮

a/n : hihi, i hope y'all are still engaged even though there isn't tooo much interaction with matt. also, follows, likes and rebloggs are highly appreciated !! if you want to be on the taglist lmk !!

taglist: @mayaschapstick @ldrloverrrrrr @bel2p0 @mattstrombolii

[pastel-charm-14]

dealing with academic burnout

hey lovelies! if you're feeling burnt out with school right now, you're not alone. here are some tips to help you push through and finish strong!! (long post incoming :))

BREAK IT DOWN -

big assignments can feel overwhelming, so break them into smaller, more manageable tasks. instead of "write a 10-page paper," think "write an outline," "research for 1 hour," "write the introduction," and so on. this makes the workload less daunting and helps you make consistent progress. it's also helpful to keep track of those smaller tasks in a list.

BE REALISTIC -

prioritize your tasks and set achievable daily or weekly goals. don't try to do everything at once. make a to-do list every day, and highlight your most important tasks. this helps you stay organized but also it feels really good to check things off your list :) for example, aim to complete two math problems instead of the entire set, or read one chapter instead of the whole book, and see where it goes from there.

TAKE BREAKS -

in order to be productive, you need to rest your mind!! try the pomodoro technique: work for 25 minutes, then take a 5-minute break. after four cycles, take a longer break (15-30 minutes). during your breaks, do something completely different from your study activity. get up, stretch, grab a snack, or go for a quick walk outside. it's refreshing for your mind and body.

STAY ACTIVE -

physical activity helps reduce stress and improve your mood. so you should aim to get at least 30 minutes of exercise a day. this could be a workout, a yoga session, or even just a really fast walk. if you don't have much time, try putting short bursts of activity in throughout your day. for example, do some stretches or a few jumping jacks between pomodoro cycles.

GET SUPPORT -

talk to friends, family, or a counselor if you're feeling overwhelmed. sometimes, just having someone listen can make a huge difference!! if you’re struggling with a particular subject or area, try forming/joining a study group or seeking help from a tutor. working with others can give you new perspectives and helps with loneliness.

HAVE A HEALTHY DIET -

your brain needs proper fuel to function at its best. try to eat balanced meals with fruits, veggies, whole grains, and protein. avoid too much caffeine and sugary snacks, because those can lead to energy crashes. keep a water bottle with you and make sure you're drinking enough throughout the day to keep your energy levels stable.

GET ENOUGH SLEEP -

pulling all-nighters is going to affect your concentration and memory. go for 7-8 hours of sleep each night. get a bedtime routine in place to help signal to your body that it's time to wind down. this could include stuff like reading a book, listening to calming music, or doing some mindfulness exercises. avoid screens at least an hour before bed, because the blue light can interfere with your sleep.

REWARD YOURSELF -

give yourself something to look forward to after completing a task. a favorite snack, watching an episode of your favorite show, or spending some time on social media, really anything that makes you happy. rewards reinforce your positive behavior and make studying feel more manageable. for example, tell yourself, "after I finish this chapter, I'll take a break to watch a funny youtube video."

STAY ORGANIZED -

keep track of deadlines and dates!! it will save you so much stress!! use a planner, calendar app, or bullet journal to log all your assignments and exam dates. you can also color code by subject/priority to make it easier to see what needs attention. review your schedule often and adjust it when you need to.

GIVE YOURSELF SOME LOVE -

it's okay to feel tired and stressed!! be kind to yourself and remember that you're doing your best. if you need to take a break, don't feel guilty about it. self-care is just as important as academic achievement. try some mindfulness or meditation and just take a moment to ground yourself.

hang in there, you've got this! just a little bit more to go and it'll be all worth it in the end. 🫶

[soracities]

HOW do you read so much ?? i'm genuinely curious teach me ur ways </3

anon i promise the most recent book i read took me 6 months to finish and the one before that was another 6 months despite being less than half the length--i have a lot of disparate readings that i post from but they don't all occur over the same period of time in the least.

and in all honestly reading, for me, is not about how "much" i read anymore but on whether or not i'm enjoying what i am reading and if i'm being true to my own pace, impulses, and interests as i do so: measuring books in terms of a checklist or reading for the sake of appearing "well-read" or because you think you have to speedrun your way through 6 hardbacks a month to qualify as a true Reader™ (which is an utterly ridiculous title because It Does Not Exist) will only put a great deal of pressure on yourself and in the process actually rid you of the joy of reading in the first place (i say this because i've been there, many many moons ago).

if you want to establish reading as a habit for yourself, the best thing i can advise you is to first of all: go at your pace--don't throw yourself into books you feel obliged to read but find ones that give you the most joy to begin with. how easy it will be to establish a reading routine will depend on a number of things--what you are used to reading and how you are used to reading things (and this in turn can also be affected by things like social media and how much time you spend there) and also what your own schedule and time constraints look like. i think the easiest way to start is to just set yourself a limit of 5 minutes: for 5 minutes straight you read, and then when those 5 minutes are up, you go for another 5. once those 5 minutes are up you go for another 5 again. it's a very manageable low-pressure way to begin and in the vast majority of cases you don't even realise when your 5 minutes are up once you get into the flow of this.

you can also pick a workable number and incorporate that into your day-to-day life: if you take a number like 20, for example, you can then decide to either read for 20 minutes or read 20 pages before bed. alternatively, have a no social media day and in the open space that gives you allow yourself an hour or 30 minutes (or whatever works for you) with whatever book of your choice (you can also use an app like Forest to stop you getting distracted by your phone). at the end of the day i think the main thing in building a reading habit is that you center your own pleasure and also, once you find a routine that works for you, to stick with it--i think social media is disastrous for attention spans on the whole unless you're very careful and intentional about what you do with it and how you use it, and it can be very difficult sometimes to adjust to the quietening that reading forces on you in comparison to scrolling through tiktok or ig.

in any case though, i hope some of this has helped you anon, even if only a little x

[thetravelingtyper]

On the same page... Pt 11 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader Bookshop! AU)

As Saturday morning dawns all the truths come spilling out...

Part 10, Part 12, Masterlist

Warnings! Typical Ghost violence in a dream

AN: Working full-time in the library now :D I will be writing still and trying to post once or twice weekly for this, Our shattered heart and comfort character.

The next 30 minutes find you pulling a freshly showered and changed Simon to your room. You wrestle with your phone, pulling up your music app and getting some music going. You flip through a few songs until lyrics tumble softly out. The choice satisfies something in you and Simon grins in amusement.

In a few weeks I will get time

To realize it's right before my eyes

And I can take it if it's what I want to do

You rifle through the drawer next to your bed and pull out a few bottles of nail polish, glancing at Simon as he sits down on your bed. The dark green of his shirt mixes well with his tattoos and skin. You pull out black, of course, a classic, but a few darker shades of grey as well. You pass a handful to Simon and then turn back for a few shades of purple for yourself.

And I am leaving and this is starting to feel like

It's right before my eyes

And I can taste it

It's my sweet beginning

He ponders for a moment, not used to a choice like this but it humors him. He was by no means against the idea just not used to the prim and proper care of his nails and hands. Kyle had told him one time over drinks that having a good skin care routine could make or break someone. He runs a hand through his hair, he at least took care of that after not worrying about it due to the balaclava. He used decent shampoo and conditioner routinely. Looking back to the nail polish, Simon hovers between a dark green and dark grey. He voices this and you think. 

And I can tell just what you want

You don't want to be alone

You don't want to be alone

And I can't say it's what you know

But you've known it the whole time

Yeah, you've known it the whole time

“The green would look with your skin tone but the grey is a neutral.”

He just nods passing you the other colors to return to the drawer while you keep a dark purple and the grey. You grab a new set of tools alongside your own and close the drawer. You then sit next to him, thighs about touching, and take his right hand. They are rough from service, a few scars littering his knuckles and as you flip them you trace your left thumb over his palm. His fingers curl in at the tenderness and you can see you don't need to do much other than just painting his nails. You hum, setting the kits aside. You set Simon's hand down in your lap and take the bottle of grey nail polish to shake it.

Maybe next year I'll have no time

To think about the questions to address

Am I the one to try to stop the fire?

When you're satisfied you unscrew the bottle and begin to paint. You swipe the brush over each nail in short but wide strokes. Once you finish his right hand you grin, the color looks good on him and you pat your thigh. Simon flexes his hand, careful of the polish, and moves his left hand to your knee where you finish that one too. You close the bottle and set the bottle on the table. He looks at you before examining his nails. Simon doesn't seem put off by it and you giggle when he admires them in the light. 

I wouldn't test you 

I'm not the best you could have attained

Why try anything?

I will get there

Just remember I know

You mention to your headboard, a dark wood piece with intricate trim that suggested it, like most of the furniture you had was thrifted. Simon nods and, minding his hands, stands. He moves around the foot of your bed and gets on to lean against the headrest, his long legs able to stretch out. While you do your nails he takes the moment to observe your room. Across from your bed is a TV with a switch docked and ready. He is amused however to see a VHS player, with a scattered collection of tapes around your room. Posters of 90s advertisements and franchises litter the room walls along with your records. He looks to the booked corner of your room where there is a plush lavender reading chair with 3 legs and one attached block to make up the 4th. In the chair sits a frog teddy bear.

You notice him looking,

“That's William, the love of my life.”

Simon nods a hello,

“Good to meet the competition.”

You laugh, setting the purple aside as you finish and moving to sit neck to Simon, both of you leaning against pillows. Your heart warms at the image and hazel eyes regard you.

And I can tell just what you want

You don't want to be alone

You don't want to be alone

And I can't say it's what you know

But you've known it the whole time

Yeah, you've known it the whole time

You hum along to the song as you lean back against the pillows, happy to just let the music finish. You yawn before shuffling carefully closer to Simon and tucking your head into his shoulder. 

“Give it 15 or so minutes and we should be good, it is quick to dry.”

“Right.”

Simon's voice rumbles through you his heart swelling with you tucked against him. Mindful of the polish his hand moves, and he lays it over your knee, thumbing circles into it. It's a little ticklish and you giggle quietly before nudging him. His lips quirk up but he stops, fingers pausing and his hand just resting on you. 

And I can tell just what you want

You don't want to be alone

You don't want to be alone

And I can't say it's what you know

But you've known it the whole time

Yeah, you've known it the whole time

As the song finishes you call for your phone to pause the music. 15 minutes pass in a blur of light conversation as Simon talks about his brother and mom. While his mom lived back in Manchester his brother traveled a lot. During tales of his childhood and early recruit days Simon doesn’t mention his father, but the clenching of his hand speaks volumes. Once you are sure the nail polish is fine your hand moves to Simons and the contact breaks his train of thought as he turns to you. The soft lamp light is warm and it lights up the gold in his eyes. 

You cross your legs and Simon turns himself easily to face you as you tug a stuffed dragon, one from your original book tour with James to your chest. Its jeweled eyes glimmer a deep ruby and you just think. Flashes of stormy eyes, soft and tender moments against James as you both talk into the night. Your chest feels tight then as you tug your keens to your chest, hugging the dragon closer you reach for your phone and hit play. 

The tinkling of music cuts into memory as you and James dance in your childhood home's kitchen.

I've got miles of regrets and confusing friends

But perhaps it's just my stupid head in the end

Thinking should I wait here or make my way home?

You said, "Go" (you said, "Go")

You had been finally able to go home after all those years and James came with you to meet your parents. It went swimmingly but as the days drifted on you found yourself missing Sam and your true home. On the last night, you found yourself ambling in the kitchen digging through ingredients for baking.  

Cavetown spins away as you sweep back and forth in the dim light. There is a noise and you jump before a set of strong and familiar arms come around you and spin you. You smile when James presses a kiss to your jaw. 

Making up problems that don't exist

Why do I let myself dream like this?

We're floating away, my body's in space

We are going home

A smooth voice joins in as James moves you skillfully in the wide space of the kitchen. You had learned early on dancing was a love of the man. He kept rhythm naturally and would often pull you into his arms.

Missing pieces of my skull

I'll sew on patches of my own soul

There's nothing you or I can do so let the stars fall

'Cause from up here the sky's my thoughts and we're all so small

The song was special for you both as it inspired parts of your first book. You would hum it before James would pick it up on acoustic or the keyboard tucked into his apartment. You had even considered the song for one of your wedding dances. 

Meteor shower, quick take cover

But the hues in our hair compliment one another

I'd sell my own bones for sapphire stones

'Cause blue's your favorite color

Back in your bedroom, your mind tucks away into itself for a moment. When you first moved here the cold hit deeper. You tried to throw yourself into writing, but the escape never got far. And at night your dreams would dance, swirling out the part of your wounded heart left behind. 

Missing pieces of my skull

I'll sew on patches of my own soul

There's nothing you or I can do so let the stars fall

'Cause from up here the sky's my thoughts and we're all so small

Simons watches you quietly before a shaky inhale from you sends a quiver in his chest. The song is not lost on him and he moves.

We're all so

My heart and the earth share the same rule

It starts with love and it ends with you

But don't go outside, it's dangerous tonight

Without me right here by your side

“Stretch out love.” 

You just nod into the dragon, unwinding your legs as you clutch the dragon with fresh tears welling. Simon's hands clutch your sides gently before he lays out, laying his head on the pillow before offering an arm out. Your eyes widen before you tuck yourself into his chest, his arms wrapping around you on the soft comforter of your bed. As you cry you hug the dragon to your chest. Simon just hums to the song quietly, it rumbling through his chest. The lyric hit you in the chest,

Take it slow, you'll know

Which way to go

Sew up your skull

Take your time

And we'll be just fine

Everything had been right for so long, then the world was torn out from under-

There is a quiet hushing from Simon and he presses a kiss to your head as the song finishes

Missing pieces of my skull

I'll sew on patches of my own soul

The following silence rings out before Simon continues to hum, his voice taking on a musical tint as you calm in his arms. Hearing you quiet down he slows to a stop, he goes to move back but you wind your arms around him.

“Stay”

His eyes widen but you feel him nod,

“Always.” 

He reaches for a spare blanket sitting on the floor before spreading it over the two of you. He clicks off the lamp, engulfing you in a warm darkness and you snuggle into his chest as Simon exhales softly.

“Si.”

He hums, a hand returning to your hair,

“Thank you.”

-

Simon awakens in Ghost, trudging through snow, dull pain thudding in his chest. He is alone, on some god-awful mission in the middle of fuck all nowhere. Static crackles as snow drifts down in the fading light. 

He tries to move his arms but Ghost just gnashes his teeth, jaw tight as the machine moves on into the light. 

Death, the reek of blood, and the stench of iron splatters barren grey walls.

Skulls knock against the concrete as he drops from above. Simon paces in his mind as Ghost eliminates soul after soul in a white wasteland as the snow stains. Hours pass in a trickle as the thudding in his chest thickens sickenly, a languid pull through him before hands reach his throat and he is there again. Buried. Ghost is marching as Simon thrashes, hands splayed across his neck as Ghost returns to the chocking white. 

But before Simon can black out there is a flash, Ghost stops, rifle dropping into the snow as Simon cries out in frustration, the rush of memories snapping as he spasms and drops into the snow writhing in pain. The weight of the gear is too much. The cold is too much. The weight of lives and steel is too much, its-

The sound of pads in the snow- Simon's eyes shoot open and he tears the balaclava off, flinging it into the forest as he takes in a panicked breath. His eyes dart around before a flash of orange is in front of him. He exhales shakily, control seeping into his skin as heat curls around him, a hand to his face and a pair of lips to his.

As his breathing calms the fox pads towards him and tucks against his chest.

-

SImon breathing calms in his sleep as your hand leaves his face and you press a kiss to his cheek before gently rolling out of bed in the early morning. It was barely 6 and the man seemed in a deep sleep. His movements in his sleep had woken you a little earlier as he was having a nightmare. You soothed him gently before deciding to just get up. 

You pass into the kitchen, Sam probably won't be up until 8 and you didn't want to wake Simon. You wanted to bake but a cup of tea and a book downstairs sounded like a good thing to pass the few hours until Sam could open shop. You would be closing earlier in the afternoon to go meet the boys. Simon would probably need to leave soon you think with a frown as you make a cup of Earl Grey and head downstairs, cracking the top door so Sam and Simon could tell you were in the store. 

The steps creak and you smile as the door opens into the early morning dimness. The store's windows allow in enough light to see your steps. It used to frighten you coming in alone but after a few weeks, it became home. You turn on the lamps, voting to keep the overhead lights off. There are a few commuters on the streets but your little corner of London is snug and quiet this time in the morning. 

You tuck into the stool behind the counter and begin to read. But as the time passes towards 6:30, your mind swirling with the fish of the Nautilus and the adventures of Captain Nemo a tapping sound pulls your mind from the book. You turn your ear up towards the back door, but no one is stirring and your phone has no messages. Your eyes shoot to the front door and there is a person there. You shoot up curious and a little apprehensive. It is a little dark to tell but there is a figure holding something and you debate what to do. 

The tapper seems to acknowledge your attention as they knock, a polite three taps against the door that has your heart freezing. That it couldn’t - Your heart is in your throat, tea forgotten, and book slumping before falling to the floor with a thunk. 

- 

Upstairs Simon jolts awake, perhaps some strange sense of fate as he rolls out of bed in search of you.

-

With a quivering breath you creep around the counter on autopilot before reaching the halfway point to the door you freeze, turning back to the stairs and thinking about running to get Sam, or Simon your mind supplies. But the low temperature and another set of knocks shock your heart.

You clench your teeth, your compassion winning out as you turn the final steps to the door and pull it open. 

-

Simon comes out into the main area and notices light through the crack of the door leading to the store, he nods to himself, opens the door, and passes quietly down the stairs.

-

In shock of the man in front of you back wordlessly into the safety of the bookstore as James fucking Marin stands in the doorway. In his hands are two cups from the cafe nearby and a bouquet is tucked into his arm. But it's the look on his face that has you retreating, a look of surprise, yes, that you even opened the door, but a wretched look of love and melting eyes as a storm curls its way around his heart. He stands at the door, the cold blowing in as he is unsure, the look of hurt on your face digs into him like a knife. 

He, this, everything feels wrong, it all felt fucking wrong, since that day. What once was love, a treasured closeness devolved into you retreating from him. Blue eyes look between you and the store and his brows draw close in a deep concern. He sets the drinks down on a little hat table first, before pulling the door close as you stand frozen.

He clenches the bouquet tighter as a potent anxiety bites him, somethin in his gut stirs and he looks to you as you are going through your processing points. He knew you too well, but this fear was a potent unknowable.

There is a sound then, and James's eyes dart to the back of the counter and he feels himself stand taller.

Having appeared silently was a panther of a man, he had only an inch on him but despite the causal clothes, there was a way the man carried himself, dark eyes first shooting at you then meeting his. James feels his muscles tense when the panther finally speaks.

“Dove?” 

You about jump head and body shooting around your eyes are watery, Simon can see them glisten in the low light, and something dark spikes in his chest, his eyes sharpen and muscles tense as he pulls himself and he feels Ghost settle.

“Si?” Your voice is small in the morning quiet.

You step back towards him, stopping with a look towards James unsure, but it's all that Simon needs. He rounds the counter before coming to stand behind you, a hand moving to brush over your shoulder and around your middle, his muscles firm as your hands shoot to his tattooed arm for support. 

James takes it in with shock before he straightens, eyes on Simon’s arm and his jaw clenching. Sharp eyes track his every breath with the precision of a trained killer, but a possessive anger burns in James and he moves to take a step forward when you finally speak.

“Why are you here James?”

Your voice is shaky and you dig yourself further into the man behind you, eyes tracing firm muscles and scars. It's the gleam of silver around his neck James sees and his eyes widen,

A soldier? 

His voice is firm as he replies, accent thickening with tension,

“I came to talk.”

You balk at that,

“Is it about work?”

James lets out a breath but his heart pounds,

“It is about us.”

This gets Simon's arm pulling you tighter to him and there's a low rumble from his chest. Your head whips up at the reply and a spark of anger ignites,

“Us, US? The first thing out of your mouth is to talk about US?” Shock, as your teeth grit, James takes a step forward before Simon finally speaks.

“Watch yourself.” His accent is thicker and his voice deep, it sends a tingle down your spine. 

James tenses eyes shooting up to Simon before he addresses him,

“And you are?”

Simon internally smirks, he dips and presses a kiss to your head before gently releasing you. He is pleased, however, when you tuck into his side, a hand seeking his.

“Lieutenant Simon Riley.” 

James's eyes widen at the rank and it fits he thinks, He is a tank. Seeing you tucked into the side of another man grinds against his heart, sparks of pain lighting up the darkness that has been in his mind for the past months. But rage and pain were not what he was, not anymore.

James relinquishes, careful to make slow movements and you watch as the man resets. He is coiled, a tenseness not usually for the easygoing man. Stress has tainted him, his hair is longer, the length of it curving past his ears and he has let his beard grow in. Your heart hurts because he is handsome, and he looks back at you with a lost expression before you can see his heart on his sleeve. 

There is a stare-off for a moment before James deflates and looks at you, his voice is smaller then,

“Can you trust me my heart?” 

You physically wince into Simon at the word, tears watering at your eyes again and James steps forward without thinking. Simon stiffens when you move forward, there are tears in your voice, you are smaller than he’s ever heard,

“Why?”

James clenches his jaw, pained as he wants to say everything, he heard Sabrina’s claims that night it broke everything. There was one thing he couldn't say, forced into silence by work, it succeeded, didn't it? She won in the end, but he ran, stupid at first not to chase after you. But, never again.

You see it in James, a quiet resolution as he readies himself.

“I never slept with her. It, all of this, was to protect your career.”

You blank, your brain short-circuiting. You stand frozen, not hearing him. Your mind jumped to Sarah, eyes flickering to his left hand, the rings?

“But Sarah said-”

“Sabrina was drunk, that event was for show, it was either that or you got thrown to the curb.” 

James grits his teeth at the memory of that board office meeting. Sabrina sitting at her dad's side, a smile on her face as she named her demands.

“What?”

“You were never pulled under a contract, Ms. Williams found out a few days ago and it blew up in the children's department, there was a full-on revolt.” There was a smile on his face at that. 

“But you said tha-”

“Don’t you dare fucking believe that,” He clenches his fist around the bouquet, Irises, red carnations, and honeysuckle. He holds out the bouquet and your heart picks up a beat at the meaning of the flowers, A message, heartache, and devotion. What he says next his voice breaks,

“Have the flowers ever lied?”

You can’t help the sob that follows, as you tenderly take the bouquet from him. He has never lied to you, not in this sense. 

“What is all of this James? Why now, why not text, fucking write a letter?” Anger sparks but the tired look on his face quells it. He takes another baby step forward but you shield yourself with the bouquet, not trusting. Simon doesn't move.

“I couldn't, not while you were still connected or within the power of those bastards. But” his lips quirked up as he looked past you and Simon.

“You have a lot of fucking nerve to show your face here.”

Your head darts to Sam, his shirt is off, evidence of sleep and you can see the dragon tattoos dancing across his chest, coiling around his heart. Sam steps around the counter, fists clenched in rage, reading Simon’s tense form, but you hold up a hand and he pauses at the flowers. James smiles at the sight of Sam, it lights up his face like a lifeline.

“Sam here I owe everything to, well White Owl Publishing as well.”

Seeing the confusion on your face he opens his arms.

“You left sweetheart. There was nothing to protect, especially once White Owl took your books over. Why do you think Sofia had such an easy time getting your publishing rights?”

Your eyes widen, everything falling together in your mind, and your eyes shoot to a gleam of silver on his left hand, it was a simple band but you recognize the engraving, and you gape at it. James's eyes shoot to it, it was the ring you gifted to him when your second book made it.

“Youve-?”

“Worn it ever since sweetheart, it's always, always been you. Once the publication rights were confirmed I broke everything I was contracted to help, they pulled the power on me. I swear it on my life nothing ever happened. Ms. Williams can confirm everything when she comes.”

You just gape up at him as Sam blanks, 

“So all of this was a fucking show?” Sam seeths, stepping past Simon but you pull on his arm, James steps forward, a fire picking in his eyes at that,

“To protect what she loved most, writing, her books, and her career? Yes.” He looks past Sam, blue eyes looking into your soul.

You step back as if shot, you wanted to be angry, to cry and bang your fist and scream. But James wasn’t lying, the look in his eyes told you that much. 

“Sofia will find out this morning I guarantee it, this tour business is all Ms. Williams, and” James takes the final step towards you, Sam tenses, 

“She broke my contract.”

You blink up at him in shock as a hand raises to your face, and you breathe shakily as a familiar hand cups your cheek, His eyes take you in, the light of a twinking star caught in them and he smiles

“I am free.” 

You clutch the bouquet to your chest as you lean into the touch for a moment but you come to yourself. The words that follow have James freezing when an arm comes around you. Blue eyes flicker up to burning umber, pools of melted iron as Simon steps in,

“I can’t, not that James, not anymore.”

James freezes pulling his hand back as if he was burned. His chest clenches as he remembers the firm voice over the phone. It starts to make a bit more sense when Sam crosses his arms.

“Right-” The syllables tumble out “-after everything I wouldn't expect that, not -” James cuts himself off. He wants to cry, he realizes then, but under Simon’s sharp eyes and you tucked against him. He looks to Sam finding a protective glare, but it is you that turns all the men's heads. 

You are already crying, the pain of the months burning your heart, but there is a sliver that tries to understand. The fact a man you loved and trusted would pull a stunt like this, bruises your heart. But there are the memories of dances and writing, it would never be the same, but-

But your stories were your life and if your relationship was meant to die to protect them.

James and Sam can see the debate, but it's Simon murmuring your name. Your head turns up against his chest and you look up to him and drown in his eyes. It was compassion that shaped you, you pat his arm and he loosens his arm with a quiet exhale. 

James’s eyes widen when you pull apart from Simon and you pad towards him cautiously. 

“It will never be the same.” 

He feels his heart pick up and James tilts his head down to you, eyes wide as you come to stand in front of him, a tender hand reaching out to his chest. You feel his heart stuttering,

“You broke everything,” your eyes flicker up to his clutching the flowers as a tangible reminder of who he was,

“You shattered my heart, broke my trust, and threw our relationship away, for which I won’t forget.”

His hand shakily covers yours and you cherish it for a quiet moment as a fresh set of tears rolls down your cheeks and this causes James to break, a tear rolling down his cheek. His voice is shaky,

“I did what I thought was best for you, I see now that may have been a mistake. I wanted to protect you but I hurt you, I will never forgive myself for that, and I haven't stopped loving you.”

Your hand shakes under his but you continue,

“I don't know where we go from here, I will need time.” Your eyes turn down but you slowly but surely touch your forehead to his chest in a final act of grace. It is not a promise of continuation but one of the possibilities of forgiveness and a new beginning and it only causes James’s heart to hurt more as he resists engulfing you in a hug.

“Always, I will always be here. I just hope maybe even to be- I don’t know anymore. But I will wait for you, always” 

His voice falters out as you lift your head from his chest and just look at him, but you nod and in a painful sweep pull your hand away to clutch the bouquet to your chest. 

James looks anxious, hand flexing to his chest in an echo of where you were and is about to speak when Simon steps forward and you finally curl into his chest. He is angry but the rage is quelled with you against his chest, but the fire does not leave his eyes as he looks into and even through James.

“You’ve said enough for now.”

James fist clenches but he steps back with a curt nod.

“Right, I will see you tomorrow.” And with a final glance back at you in Simon's arms, he leaves.

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