#i hate myself and i hate myself even more for hating myself

[seventeenpins]

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.” 

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens. 

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text. 

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play. 

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 

You’re at his house an hour later. 

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

[bigification]

Handlebars

Day 1:

My first day of college was a lot more stressful than I thought it would be. I finally made it to residence last night, which only gave me one night to get settled before classes started. I was nervous to meet my roommate because of all of the horror stories I had heard about them in the past, but it ended up being so much worse than I expected. In my mind, the worst outcome was some lazy douche who never cleaned up after himself. So you can imagine my shock when I knock on the door and a full grown 30 something year old man answers the door.

"Hey, buddy. The names Mike, come on in."

He looked and sounded like a jock in a college movie, but when the actor is actually 30. His voice was deep and buttery, it almost gave me butterflies. I just smiled awkwardly and walked past him through the door.

"I'm Oscar by the way." I introduced myself.

"Cool, I'll just call you Handlebars." He said, without a care in the world.

He sat down on his bed, and that was the extent of our interactions for the day.

Day 7:

It's been a week and all my other worries about roommates came true. Not only is he 15 years older than me, he's a slob. He gets home from the gym drenched in sweat and throws his gym clothes wherever without cleaning them. He doesn't do his dishes, or any chore for that matter. In fact it seems like he intentionally keeps the place dirty after I try to clean it. And whatever musky cologne he wears attacks my nose every time I open the door, it feels like the smell seeps into everything, including my clothes.

The few times that he actually wants a chore to be done, he just asks me to do it, or rather he just tells me to do it. Normally I would be happy to tell him to go fuck himself, but I always find myself doing whatever he asks. I hate it.

"Yo Handlebars, be a doll and clean the dishes for me."

"Yo Handlebars, I ran out of clean gym clothes, mind running em down to the laundry for me."

It's like he's casting a spell whenever he talks.

Day 15:

I've started to settle into routine. The things that used to bother me about Mike seem a bit more trivial now. We've even started to become pretty close. I get enthralled by his conversations about business. He goes on and on about his father's enterprises, and how they'll be his soon.

I even started going to the gym with him lately. He lent me some of his gym clothes, even if they're way too big. It just made me appreciate him more. I never really clocked how jacked he was, sometimes he goes to the gym shirtless and it shows off his massive pecs and thick biceps.

Since joining him, I've noticed my body has improved quite significantly. I used to be skinny and lanky, but there is definition starting to show throughout my body.

Day 30:

Just a month into school and I was already on my way to failing out. I just don't care about it anymore, but Mike gave me a solution. He said I could just switch programs and do business with him, and his dad would even pay for it. How could I pass that up.

Now that I've switched, it's like all stress in my life has disappeared. Business is so easy, and now I have more time with Mike. We usually have a routine of going to the gym after our last class of the day.

"Yo Handlebars, you're lookin strong man. I'd kill to grow as fast as you."

He shouted at me from across the gym, when he caught me staring at myself in the mirror. Butterflies flew through my stomach when he said that. And he wasn't wrong, I've been noticing a lot of changes in my body. My face has matured, my eyebrows are thicker, my nose is bigger, and my jawline is more square. I even have to shave now, when I never had to before college. A five o'clock shadow engulfs my face by the end of the day, especially above my lip. The rest of my body has gotten hairier too, especially around my pecs, arms, and legs. And that's not even mentioning my progress at the gym. I actually look like I belong there, my biceps have a nice roundness to them and my chest actually sticks out from my body. Those gym clothes that Mike gave me look smaller and smaller every day.

Life in the dorms has also been a dream. I've been wearing that cologne that Mike loves, and it's like I unlocked a whole new level of confidence. People seem to love listening to me talk, and people seem to respect me more.

Day 60:

This past month has been the best month of my life. Now that I'm in my mid twenties, I can drink whenever I want. Mike and I go out raves and frat parties basically every night, my body is basically used to every drug at this point. And with Mike's dad paying for college, I literally don't need to show up to lectures and I get straight A's.

"Fuck, bro. I think you're bigger than me Handlebars."

Mike said with a shocked face when we were snapping pics at the gym. We flexed beside each other, and it was obvious. My biceps dwarfed his, and his gym clothes had become really tight on me lately. The shirt was skin tight against my upper body, showing off my juicy pecs and my growing six pack. And the shorts looked like they were about to burst under the pressure of my ass cheeks and thighs, to the point that the outline of my dick was constantly visible.

"Here bro, take this."

Mike handed me a package. It was filled with gym clothes and jocks.

"Just for you Handlebars."

I yanked him in for a bro hug, I could feel myself blushing.

"You got this all for me bro?"

"Fuck yeah, man. You've been grinding it out in the gym, don't think I haven't noticed my clothes straining against those muscles. And you need something to contain that snake in your pants before we get campus security called on us."

Mike chuckled, his laugh was infectious.

Day 100:

I started in the mirror. Sometimes I barely recognize myself. The confident and cocky mask goes away when I'm alone, just leaving the caring gym bro that's on the true inside.

Damn, I think to myself, Mike is making me too sappy. I give myself a cocky smile after shaving my face, leaving me with a thick moustache. I flex, admiring my guns and bouncing my pecs. Man I look good for a man pushing his thirties.

"Fuck, handlebars. Since when were you so hairy?" Mike asked me when I left the bathroom.

"What? Are you jealous I'm manlier than you bro?" I taunted him by opening my button up wider, revealing the thick pelt of hair that covered my body.

"Nah, it's got me feelin something tho." He smirked at me.

"Hah, I fuckin knew it. You want a piece of this." I bounced my pecs.

"Don't make it gay bro, it's not like that. Just a dude admiring another dude." He blushed.

The tension between us had been building for weeks. He would stand too close when spotting me at the gym, and I'd catch him staring at me in the mirror. Not like I haven't been doin it too. We also wear less clothes around the dorm. I still got that jock strap Mike gave me a while back, I'd be lying to myself if I said it fit but I don't care, and it seems like Mike doesn't mind either. And sometimes I wear an open button up just cuz it makes my pecs pop.

Day 120:

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this." Mike whispered in my ear. His breath was heavy as he threw me against the wall. His dick was bouncing with excitement against my ass.

For context, a few hours ago we were at the gym like normal. At this point, we didn't even go to class, it was just gym and parties now. The tension had been growing at the gym forever, sometimes we'd release by foolin around in the showers, but it never went further a quick handjob when no one was lookin. It was different this time, he couldn't keep his hands off me. Broad daylight in a busy gym, his hands would be far down my shorts, teasing.

At first I was dismissive. We already got caught multiple times by campus security, so close to getting kicked out of school. If it wasn't for Mike's dad being a rich alumni, I think both of us would be long gone by now. But he knew how to push my buttons, he always has. I gave in, but had the decency to drag him by the collar to the showers. At least there we could be naked.

Ok, back to the point. I grunted as his thick arms held me in place. Mike had been working extra hard to catch up to me, and it was showin. It turned me on, feelin his muscled forearms against my shoulders. But I wasn't gonna let him win that easily. What Mike seemed to forget was the near decade I spent in the Navy before comin to college.

I whipped around, using the hot water against our skin to slip out from his pin. I pushed his shoulder, sending him tripping over my foot, which I had conveniently placed behind his. I caught him like a damsel in distress, so there was no doubt in his mind who was on top.

Within seconds, it's like my training kicked in and I had him pinned down on his stomach. The bristles of my thick mustache rubbed against the back of his ear as I whispered, "You really thought you could top me?" I asked with a chuckle.

He moaned like a twink when I stuck my cock up his ass. It took a moment for his ass to adjust to takin a beatin rather than dishin one out, but he'll get used to it. The wet fur on my forearm slid across his back as I rode him like a bull. I could almost feel his organs rearrangin to fit my 10 inch rod.

I groaned as I felt months of sexual tension release in seconds, shooting my seed all through Mike's body. He was mine. And by the looks of it, he enjoyed the ride too. A trail of his cum ran from under his pinned body, to the drain in the middle of the showers.

"You're mine."

I whispered in his ear with a shit eatin grin.

"Now clean this mess up before you dare come back to my dorm."

I pushed off his back to get to my feet. I continued rubbing my cock as I walked away, making ropes of cum cover the showers. I walked right out of the showers and into the locker room, making sure to wink at campus security on the way out. Someone always calls them, and we always get away with it Scott free, so I think they gave up. It just feels good to make people know they're beneath you, and to do it while rubbin one out.

I cleaned up and walked alone to my dorm, sat on my couch, and waited for Mike to come back. After a few minutes, he walked in without a word. He walked over to me and laid in my lap as I turned on football. I smelled his hair, making sure he actually cleaned up like I ordered.

"Good boy." I reassured him while massaging his pecs.

Day 150:

I finally moved our stuff out of my shitty dorm. Mikey's father just decided to pay for our diplomas outright, instead of trying to turn all of our F's into A's.

We moved to L.A. and I fuckin love it here. I just walk around in nothin but a jock, and people love me for it. And there are so many entrepreneurs like me, so much money to be made.

Everyone just calls me handlebars, I can't remember the last time anyone called me my name. Now that I think about it, I don't even remember what it was, but who the fuck cares. I'm handlebars, the life of the party and the best fuck in this city.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You — Part 23

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: I’m so relieved to finally be getting to this fun part of the story!

word count: 5,699

-Part 22-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Already there’s a horse and cart in the street, trunks and chests neatly stacked in the back, iron padlocks weighing heavy to keep possessions sealed. Blankets and rugs are tied in bundles, bedsheets and pillowcases that you can still smell, remember the feel of them; the warmth they retained. The heat of bare skin flush to your back. Sleepy golden eyes, sharp even when softened by early morning light. 

There’s a lump in your throat. 

Held between two chests is an open-topped crate, a myriad of personal belongings jumbled about inside: a box you know contains golden rings, his favourite being the one plain band that wraps two hands around his thumb, clinging snugly; a board game you’d tried to play after drinking, back before you’d become closer than friends; wooden goblets with geometric designs burned into their curve; a pair of glasses with circular, coloured lenses. A stack of something wrapped in cloth which must be crockery, ceramic plates with illustrations of crude figures pick-axing ice. A neatly folded quilt is tied down to one of the chests, the one that had been tucked over the back of his armchair, made up of pinks, oranges, magentas, and turquoise. Small tassels hanging off the ends that he’d made himself. 

The door to his house is propped open with a wedge crafted of iron, featuring a rabbit in a coat with carrots stuffed in his pockets. Bas’ figure emerges from the comparative darkness lofting a second, smaller crate in his arms. His eyes find yours but he makes no reaction save for the tightening of the skin at his knuckles. He exits through the waist-high wooden gate, walking to the back of the cart to heft the crate in front of the one your eyes had been previously resting on. “Hi,” you say, stepping closer but pausing a respectful distance away. Bas makes no sign of acknowledgement, muscles in his forearms flexing as he hefts the crate into place, pressing it flush to the back. You consider walking away—he clearly isn’t interested in speaking with you, but… “You’re leaving already?” 

Bas turns, his expression unchanging, still retaining the frown of concentration from transporting heavy objects to and fro but seemingly colder now you’ve appeared. His stature casts a shadow over you. “Something you want?” He asks, tone clipped but not quite sharp enough to be impatient. Softened at the end. You watch him for a moment—nothing seems sufficient enough or appropriate. ‘I’m sorry’, ‘I miss you’, ‘how are you’. Would any of those suffice? You can’t imagine them doing so. Instead you shift on your feet, casting a portion of your attention to the moving wagon standing stationary at the foot of his front garden. “It looks like you’ll be gone soon,” you observe, speaking quieter than normal for an open day. After a beat, Bas folds his arms over his chest. “Either tomorrow or the day after.” Golden eyes shift to the cart, glancing over the trunks, “Ma’s still got a few things to pack, but once those are loaded we’ll be off.” 

Off and gone to the Winter Court, almost entirely out of your reach. You only have six months left to live—do you have enough time to spend on giving him space? You can’t expect him to forgive you so suddenly, so swiftly. People aren’t made like that. But can you risk that time? If you die before seeing him again, or if this is the last time you see him you can’t risk being anything other than honest. But being honest in a situation like this…you need the time to pass to give it the deserved weight. Springing your timeline on him… You don’t want to tell him like this. So instead you look over your shoulder, glancing back into his house. “Got any more boxes that need carrying?” 

“Carrying boxes isn’t going to fix shit,” Bas mutters, the poisoned tone catching you off guard. Have you earned yourself that venom? Apparently so. 

“I just want to help,” you murmur, looking back at him. “I might not get to see you again.” 

“Your sister’s High Lady. I’m sure reaching Winter Court would hardly require a lift of her fingertips,” Bas snaps. His lips press themselves together, like he regrets the outburst. You look down, peering at the cobbles beneath your feet and give a small shake of your head. “I… If you don’t want me there, I won’t visit.” The words sting your throat like bile, hating how they sound on your tongue. “If you want your space I won’t intrude. But it… Obviously I’d like to be able to see you again.” 

A few beats pass without a reply, the quiet resting on your shoulders and you make an effort not to let it ruin the moment. You clear your throat, shaking off the mood and glancing up at him, “So. Any crates I can take?” Your heart quickens—if he denies you here it’s a full stop. You can’t imagine you’d be able to find him again if you lose him. The Winter Court is large, and their ties already strained with the Night Court—there’ll be no strings to pull. But it’s his decision now. It’s in his hands. 

Bas’ jaw works, his eyes narrowing on you in a way they haven’t done in a long time, but it seems he relents, nodding once toward his house, a loc falling across his temple with the sharp movement. “There are two small boxes in the front entrance, one contains shoes and fabrics, and the other contains herbs. Herbs go on top, yeah?” You nod your head, keeping the smile locked up tight. “Herbs go on top.” 

The box full of shoes is surprisingly weighty and you wonder if there are more than a few pairs of boots inside, studded with metal that might be weighing the crate down in your arms. Still you manage, sliding it into place on the last row of space available in the wagon before heading back to collect the box of herbs. You can pick out some of the scents: tarragon, mint, thyme. A hint of pepper and cardamon. The slight warmth of cinnamon and ginger. Rosemary. “I won’t forgive you if you try and make off with my herb box,” a voice calls from further inside. 

You start, gripping the small chest tight. 

Bas is watching from the living room doorway that leads to the hallway, stairs appearing behind him and the kitchen a little further beyond. It’s disturbing in a surreal way, to be standing inside the bones of his home. Gone are the dried herbs and flowers that had been strung along the walls and ceiling beams, rug removed from the floors and furniture sparse of cushions and quilts. Everything that made it a home, every personal detail seems to have been painstakingly stripped away, leaving only that scent of rosemary and freshly tilled earth that has familiarity stretching aching limbs in your chest. 

You summon a huff of laughter, glinting down at the plain chest. “It’s certainly tempting me…” You remember trying foods with him. Things you didn’t have access to in the woods. Dishes you wouldn’t have had access to even if you’d remained in high society. All the different herbs and spices they have here, in Prythian. The range of climates allowing for a variety of taste to grow. You remember the first time he’d soaked chicken in wine among other things, how the meat had tasted a little more bearable, flavoured and soft and tender. Feeling more like meat than leather, without the salty burn to help preserve the food.

“One more upstairs then it’s on Ma.” Bas’ statement cuts through the silent memories washing through, bringing a tremble to your fingertips but you nod. Once you load this chest into the wagon then it’s done on your end. Nothing to keep the conversation going. You manage a small smile but don’t meet his eyes as you turn with the chest in hand, walking it out to the cart and loading it in. From inside you pick out the footfalls of Bas descending the staircase and you stand back to give him room. He slides the box into place and lifts the panels of wood that will prevent any trunks from sliding out on an uphill, latching it in place. Safe and secure. 

For some reason you can’t look at him. As if looking at him will mean acknowledging it’s over, and he’s going away. 

For a moment you simply stand alongside the wagon, neither sure what to say, what to do now the shared task has been completed. Now it’s time for another decision to be made. 

Bas breaks the silence. “Thanks for the help.” You look at him, running your eyes over his expression, trying to gain hints to what’s okay to reply with. Trying to make the right choices. “Thanks for letting me help,” you reply, clearing your throat and glancing back to the wagon. Bas pats his hand once against the wood, shifting to lean his weight against the structure. “We’re going to be heading up northeast first,” he tells you and your ears prick with hope. “Ma’s got a sister who lives around there—near the coast. They haven’t spoken in a long time, but she figured if we’re moving it would be good to let her know.” 

You nod your head slowly. “Have you met your aunt before?” Bas shrugs his shoulders, his eyes skating across belongings piled up in the back, “don’t think so. Not one I can remember, at least.” You nod again, looking toward the cobbles. You should be going. Letting him get on with packing up and moving. “I hope-” Your voice catches and you have to clear your throat, swallowing a breath. Looking up a little to meet his eyes. “I hope things are better for you, wherever you go. For you and your mother.” Is that too far? Have you pushed too much? Bas seems to be asking himself the same questions, and you hope he comes to a different conclusion. 

“Pa mentioned a statue to me once,” he says softly. “One made entirely out of ice, with snakes carved, wrapping around the feet of the first High Lord of the Winter Court. Apparently it’s about the height of one of the Old Pine’s and every scale of the snake’s skin was carved by the same hand.” Bas shifts, his golden eyes locking with yours. “I hadn’t thought much of it, but we’ll be trying to find a spot around that statue since it’s where Pa grew up. Something he remembered from his childhood.” 

Your heart falls numb for a second before skipping into a swift pulse, bumping against your ribs and you take in a subtle breath. You nod your head. Ice statue with snakes. Relief strikes so hard your legs are weakened, having to shift your weight from one hip to the other so a knee doesn’t buckle. “I hope you get to see it,” you manage, sounding strained before you swallow, nodding your head. “I hope you find what you’re looking for there.” 

Bas’ mouth tightens into something that might have been a smile, then he’s nodding his head once in reply and patting the cart again. “I need to check on Ma now—see how she’s managing with packing.” He pushes off from the wagon, and you turn to watch him pass through the waist-high garden gate. He pauses. 

“Give me some time though, yeah? I need…time. Some space. Let me adjust and settle down for a bit.”

You nod your head, happy enough he seems to be allowing you to visit. You can work from there. Earn back his trust. You realise he has his back turned and can’t see you, so offer your reply, “I will.” You want to say more. I’ll miss you until then. I’m sorry. Thank you. 

But, time. 

You still have some of that left to give. 

————

You take your time walking back to the River House, following the Sidra for some way. Affording yourself the allowance to peer in shop windows, gaze at people going about their lives, wondering about what their own stories are. 

You’re happy Bas decided to tell you. Not just about where he would be moving to but about the route he’d be taking to bypass his aunt. You know he didn’t have to tell you. You weren’t entitled to that knowledge, but he decided to tell you anyway. A small piece of forgiveness—a small, tentative first step. After so much darkness in your life it seems like a tiny star twinkling in the sky, clouds parting just long enough to catch a glimpse. A promise that there is good in the world, and if you’re in a bad place now it would be foolish to stop. 

You need to keep going in order to escape it. 

————

The kitchen is surprisingly full when you enter the entry way, discarding your cloak and outer layers to the hooks on the walls, taking care to ease out the ties of your boots before also discarding them alongside other sets. 

Inside there’s no need for jumpers or cloaks, fleeces or scarves. A muffled pop of a log sounds from the living room, honestly sounding closer to someone stepping heavily on an upper floorboard but there’s something about the warmth that tells you the fire’s lit. That and you can make out the faded orange flicker on the wall parallel to the living room’s door where flame light is colouring the cream wallpaper. The smell of heated food catches your attention and your stomach shifts in response, squeezing itself together in complaint as if to remind you of how empty it is. Some warmed bread and butter would be lovely to start the day with. There might even be some chilled clotted cream available in the ice-enchanted larder. 

Rounding the corner, you’re sure you haven’t ever seen the kitchen so full. Glancing at the clock mounted on the wall beside the crockery cabinet however, you realise it’s approaching lunch time. You suppose it makes sense—if Madja’s at ten O’clock and you left after that to visit Bas, then taking your time to walk back will have brought you to lunch. That would explain the business. 

Already there’s crackling from cooking oil on the stove, the smell of heated bread and salt, the slight fattiness of meat mixing with the sweetness of sliced fruit coming from another side of the large kitchen. An egg cracks and you hear the sizzle of it as it hits the pan, the knock of steel as it slices into a chopping board, the smell of chives, onions, and tomatoes greeting you next. On the main table sits sliced bread, baked through with diced olives and rosemary, butter sitting ready for the taking on a platter with a flattened knife propped on the tray’s side. 

Feyre, Mor, and Amren are already seated at the table, each with a plate of what appears to be mashed potato surrounded by steamed beans and thickly cut ovals of tender meat. Amren's plate holds meat more that anything else. Feyre tips a deep boat of spiced sauce over her mash so it drizzles atop the vegetables before passing the boat to Mor, seeming not to care they’re eating in the kitchen rather than the connected dining room. Nesta barks something at Cassian over the loud fritz of the oil and he passes two plates to her side before returning to the chopping board, a few moments later stepping close to her side to slide the sliced chives into the pan with the eggs. A shadow whisks past you into the room, depositing salt and pepper to the side of the stove before hurriedly returning the way it had come. You turn your head quick enough to catch as it scampers back to the upper floors, disappearing through the ceiling. 

At a side along the window-lined wall is Elain, pressing her fork into some well-mashed banana before scraping it off onto some toasted bread, already softened with butter. You make your way over, taking the serrated bread knife from beside her plate to cut a slice yourself, liking the look of the thick crust and seed-scattered bread. Her eyes find you and a smile follows swiftly after, taking in your appearance, “Was it you I heard come in?” You nod, holding the bread firmly as you grind the knife forward to cut the crust, “I forgot to eat breakfast before heading out and lost track of time.”

Pulling a plate down from one of the stacks inside a cabinet with a window in you move the slice from the chopping board, “You’re having lunch?” Elain’s cheeks warm, her lips tightening as she looks guiltily out onto the front garden. “My sleep was troubled,” she admits, “I only awoke around ten thirty this morning.” 

Your brows furrow. “You’re sleeping poorly?” 

“It seems that way.” Elain exhales, pausing the sweep of her knife across the mashed banana. “It’s just the same thing over and over again. I wish the beginning would fade now it’s passed but apparently I must watch the whole sequence from start to finish.” 

She’s still getting the vision? 

You look away from her—down to the side table, “I’m sorry.” But Elain shakes her head, sighing once more before straightening her shoulders. “I’m okay. It’s just a bit of lost sleep.” Before you can ask her anymore however, the sound of footsteps catch your attention, Rhysand and Azriel apparently having finished up whatever had been keeping them from joining the lunch. Elain pushes a smile to her lips then gestures with her eyes to the table, suggesting taking a seat. You follow after her. 

“Finally given up work to grace us with your presence?” Feyre muses, resting her chin atop the smooth skin of her tough knuckles. Rhysand lifts a brow, his mouth curving with a fondness specifically meant for his mate, “I gave you plenty of attention this morning, Feyre.” But your youngest sister doesn’t blush like you would have had a lover repeated those same words for you. Instead her mouth matches his curve, blue-grey eyes alight with twinkling mischief as she inclines her head toward Azriel. “In fact I was speaking to your Shadowsinger. His presence is much more appreciated.” The male in question dips his head by a degree, taking his seat beside Amren as silently as possible while the High Lord and Lady continue their domestic teasing. 

“Is that so?” Rhysand remarks, seating himself in the chair to Feyre’s right, opposite Mor. “Will you tell me what’s so much more appreciated about my brother’s presence than my own?” Feyre arches a brow, her smile widening, “I wouldn’t want to hurt your ego, preening and engorged as it is.” Rhys’ expression shifts to something verging on smug but Mor stabs a thick oval of meat with her fork, lifting it from the plate, shifting it between Rhys and Feyre, “enough from both of you. I don’t want to hear this over lunch.” The compass point of her fork settles on her cousin, Mor’s nose wrinkling, “Az also isn’t a smug bastard, unlike someone else I can think of.”

Elain takes the open seat beside Rhysand and opposite Amren, setting her plate down and drawing her chair back, leaving you to stiffly take the one at her side, across from Azriel. What poor seating choices you’ve all made.

Behind Amren and Azriel, Nesta presses to Cassian’s side who’s holding the plates aloft, keeping them steady as Nesta transfers the four eggs in the pan between them, two soft yolks for the two slices of buttered bread atop each plate. 

“Azriel also remembered to bring me blood more frequently than yourself, Rhys,” Amren drawls from opposite Elain, a wicked croon on her crimson-cut mouth. “Even when he didn’t want information from me,” she adds pointedly. Rhys tilts his head, a plate appearing out of thin air before him on the table along with cutlery and a napkin, “and who’s to say those weren’t gifts sent along from myself?” But Amren doesn’t fall for it, reaching for a glass of red wine, “You won’t fool me, boy.” Rhysand shrugs his shoulders, unbothered by her relaxed attitude. “I suppose if you were still of the inclination to accept bottles of lamb’s blood you’d be receiving a box’s worth. I have a request to make of you.” 

Amren inclines her head, the black cut of her hair slicing along her sharp jaw, faint interest in her silver eyes, “Pray tell”.

Nesta casts salt and pepper over the plates of eggs and chives, then the two of them join the table. As Cassian departed before Nesta, he fills the seat to your right, while Nesta settles in the space opposite him, to Azriel’s left. The only way the current arrangement could be made worse is if Rhysand and Elain were to swap seats. You grimace internally and treasure her presence. 

The High Lord inclines his head to Azriel whose shadows settle a map of Prythian to the centre of the kitchen table. “Cassian and Nesta have already checked through Helion’s libraries. That means excluding the Night Court, there are five other Courts to examine.” As he speaks, thin shadow seeps across the parchment to darken the land of Night and Day, signalling they’ve each been studied.

“Between us,” Rhysand continues, “we can split between those remaining Courts, in turn accessing their libraries. Where I’ll need your help, dear Amren, is translating the books we encounter in the Old Language. I would rather not have to take them all on myself.” Rhysand pauses, lifting violet eyes from the map to the slight female diagonal from his seat, “What do you say?” 

Amren seems to consider his request and you have to fathom how respected she is to so idly take her time considering a request from a High Lord. A few beats pass as her grey eyes trace the island, then blood red lips are cutting into a grin, moon-white teeth flashing in her mouth, “I think I’m going to enjoy opening my Solstice presents this year.” 

Rhysand smiles and you wonder if he was confident Amren would accept or whether this was a gamble on his part. Feyre would probably be able to tell.

Across from the High Lord, Mor clinks her glass with Amren’s, the two females grinning from the other side of the table. There’s a smile on Feyre’s face but you imagine it’s one of those ones that rather than being of your own choice is truly the result of the infectious kind of happiness—seeing people you love enjoying themselves. 

From the other end of the table however, Nesta is studying the map, her silver eyes not even scanning the table before they’re finding Rhysand—suitably distanced from one another. “Five courts and seven of us. I would think you and Feyre would be remaining in the Night Court, leaving us with a court each,” Nesta points out, her tone verging on mild boredom. Steel glints in her hands as cutlery catches the light. “Do you intend for us each to cover the libraries of a court, or do you possess secret reinforcements on hand?” 

The beat of pause that follows her inquiry stretches a fraction of a second longer than it normally would, the tensing as if preparing for a collision to occur as it always feels when those two acknowledge one another. But Rhysand inclines his head to his right and the tension dissipates as swiftly as it had gathered. “I wouldn’t call your sisters secrets,” he muses, slowly. “But yes: reinforcements.” 

You blink. 

From the stiffness of Elain’s shoulders you imagine this is news to her, too, which brings you some level of comfort. More comfort when Elain is the one who meets Rhysand’s gaze, asking, “scouring the libraries for—what?” The relief settles deep. This setting is mildly frightening as it is without the pressure of handling easily observable interactions with others.

Rhysand’s attention settles onto Elain but you get the strange feeling it’s somehow also extending to yourself, “I believe Lucien mentioned the matter of the Prison.” Violet eyes flick over to you. “And that Feyre offered an explanation of the situation last night?” You avoid an answer by diverting your own attention to Elain who is still watching the High Lord. She nods. 

“Would you be willing to help?” Rhysand asks, without much preamble. 

Help? Help how? If it means coming into contact with a single creature that’s supposed to be inside that Prison your answer has to be a firm no. If it means attempting to wield even an ounce of your magic that seems to be sucking the marrow from your bones every passing day your answer has to be a firm no. If it means- 

Your thinking time comes to an end when Elain nods her head, and violet eyes once again flick past her onto yourself. Decision time.

You shift in your seat, unwilling to offer a definite answer, “If I can.” 

The High Lord nods and again you wonder if it was a gamble in relying on your help. As Nesta pointed out, one each to a Court seems an impossible task. But how are two extras going to aid that task? You’d have to pair up, but there would still not be enough of you. This seems to be Rhysand’s next subject matter as he again nods to Azriel, shadows pulling the map closer to the centre of the table so all can see it. Besides you, Cassian’s torso blocks out light as he leans forward, wings casting shadow upon the floor as you each examine the map with new eyes.

“So who’s tasked with which Court?” The General asks, “And who’s taking a solo trip?” 

Instinctively you’d imagine Azriel and Mor would be the two to travel solo—they seem to be the most suited to handling a task like this on their own, but what do you know?

“Well you certainly won’t be visiting Summer Court after obliterating that building,” Mor deadpans. 

“It shouldn’t have been built there,” Cassian replies with a look of mischief.

Leaning closer, Nesta nods her head to the map, “I don’t think Spring Court is a good idea for Cassian and I. I could manage Tamlin but I threatened him the last time I saw him.” Cassian’s smile widens. You guess it makes sense those two would be a pair. “If Summer Court is off the table then we’ll take either Dawn Court or Autumn Court.” 

Right.

Someone’s going to have to scour the Autumn Court. 

Besides you, Elain clears her throat. “I could go to the Spring Court.” She shifts in her seat, nodding to the lower portion of fae-inhabited lands. “I’m sure if I asked, Lucien would be willing to accompany me, and we have an alliance with them, too. I don’t imagine the High Lord of Spring being a great threat to myself but he certainly won’t be to Lu.” It’s a surprisingly sound argument. But if Elain pairs with Lucien than means you’ll be either with Mor or Amren—unless you could remain here and help search any other books in the Night Court with Feyre. 

Just as you’re about to offer the option however, Azriel speaks. “Are your ties with Viviane still sustaining, Mor?”

Mor nods her head though her smile fades almost imperceptibly.

The Shadowsinger nods. “If Mor handles the Winter Court, and Elain and Lucien take the Spring Court, that leaves Dawn, Summer, and Autumn between the rest of us.” Azriel’s shadows shift, further darkening the Courts now with assigned explorers. “Feyre and Rhysand will be staying here, taking care of ruling and the Illyrian texts?” 

The High Lord nods his head, “I’ll be covering the Hewn City, too, and splitting any ancient books between Amren and myself. Feyre will be helping with newcomers.”

“And if Cassian and Nesta are planning to move together that leaves the Summer Court,” Azriel states, hazel eyes find your own set across the table, “which you and I will cover.” 

You try to convince yourself the silence that passes over the table doesn’t stretch like you think it does. 

Hazel eyes hold yours for a second longer before returning back to the map, the Summer Court now tentatively cast in shadow. “That means Cassian and Nesta can take either Dawn or Autumn, but one pair will have to take two courts.” 

At your side, Elain fumbles. “She could come with me,” Elain pushes, “I’m sure she could help in Spring.” 

“Or with me and Cassian,” Nesta presses. 

“She could stay here,” Feyre adds, then turns to Rhysand. “Besides, the Summer Court libraries are part of the Old Temple they have which are deep in the jungle, aren’t they?” Her blue-grey eyes fall to the map, brows pinched, standing from her chair and Mor slides the map along so Feyre can jab her nail to the thick jungle of the Summer Court, an X marked in its middle. “Those jungles are dense, aren’t they,” Nesta adds, glancing to Cassian, a hard look on her face, “no flying overhead.” 

“Which is why we should be the ones to go,” Azriel says, keeping calm but firm. 

Nesta narrows her eyes, silver boring into the male at her side. “The creatures in that jungle are magical, like most of the beasts spread across Prythian. Not to mention poison and venom, and parasites in water streams unless you know which are fresh and safe to drink from. Even the beetles can be lethal, so unless you take a guide which may alert your presence in a foreign court, it will be too dangerous.” 

“Then it’s perfect that she can tell the difference between the poisonous creatures and the harmless ones.”

Azriel holds Nesta’s gaze for a beat before turning to you. “You’ve read about the jungle haven’t you. About the creatures inside?”

You mentioned the spiders the other day.

“I can go with her instead,” Nesta says, eyes sharpening. 

“You won’t be able to protect her as well as I can.” There’s no condescension in his statement, just fact. She’s learning from him and Cassian how to fight, after all. How to wield a blade. 

Nesta’s eyes remain sharp, not straying a second from their target. The temperature seems to rise, air thickening. You swallow, tongue flicking out over dry lips, “I could tell them apart.”

“No. You already have a limited life-span; you aren’t shortening it any further,” Nesta says calmly, her eyes still piercing into Azriel. And yet it’s Elain who shifts again in her seat, sitting straighter, “If she says she can tell the difference, she can tell the difference.” Elain looks over to you, a small smile on her lips. “She’s the best one to send to the Summer Court.”

A muscle flickers in Nesta’s jaw, a few, heavy moments of tension weighing through the room that have your pulse spiking for no discernible reason. Then it ends, and Nesta looks back to the map. “So Cassian and I will take the Dawn Court and the Autumn Court.” 

“You’ll only be taking the Dawn Court.” At the sound of Rhysand’s voice, Nesta’s eyes turn pure silver for a fraction of a second.

She arches a narrow brow, her expression sharper than an Illyrian blade. “So you’ll send Mor instead?” She asks, the hiss of slicing steel underlying her honed tone. “Or do you think you can get Lucien to squeeze his way back into his home-Court?” There’s a dangerous challenge in her silver eyes. 

“Neither,” the High Lord answers, slowly. “Feyre, Amren, and I will remain here. Myself searching the libraries the priestess’ cannot cover, Amren for backup on the ancient texts, and Feyre with helping as we begin a slow evacuation of the towns surrounding the Prison as a precaution and preventative. Mor will cover Winter, Elain and Lucien will cover Spring, and you and Cassian will cover Dawn.”

Even Feyre’s looking at him strangely.

“The Summer Court boarders the Autumn Court,” Rhysand states. “We can’t afford to waste time making extra journeys.” 

So you and Azriel will be taking both the Summer Court, and the Autumn Court. 

Rhysand breaks his gaze with Nesta only to find your eyes further along the table. They’re steadfast. Grounded. “Will you manage that?” 

Why put that decision on you? 

You look across the table to Azriel—why had he of all people volunteered to pair up with you? His logic checks out, but wouldn’t Mor have been able to ward off any magical creatures? Then again, your relationship with Mor isn’t the best… 

Azriel gives no clue to his emotions, other than a subtle incline of his head. 

Your throat rolls, but you force yourself to look back at Rhysand, and offer a nod of your head, “I can manage.” 

All seven Courts are ensconced in shadow. 

————

You sigh as you settle into bed, tucking yourself close between the duvet and mattress. Plumping the pillow beneath your cheek as you curl your knees to your chest. 

You’ll be leaving in three days, but bypassing a coastal town Northeast of Velaris. The condition of you entering the Summer Court jungle was you’d at least have some kind of protection other than Azriel. The sea-town is also the only town outside of Illyria that will sell Illyrian blades, and Illyrian leather from the wild oxen that inhabit the unforgiving terrain of the steppes, its hide significantly tougher to compete with the rocky climate and freezing nights.

You don’t like the idea of having to carry a blade of your own, but you suppose, knowing some of the creatures within, you’d rather be with it than without it. Although you’ve yet to decide whether you’ll be visiting Autumn first or Summer. 

But that’s a decision for tomorrow. 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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[tpwk-formula1]

Kimi Antonelli. I would like to have my pizza with coliflower crust(grumpy reader) with Alfredo sauce. Now for the toppings, maybe with basil, broccoli and Gouda cheese. And for my drink sprite and truly. Maybe mt dew (sub reader) and yes aftercare. THANK U MY LOVE❤️❤️❤️

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

cauliflower crust sunshine x grumpy Alfredo sweet sex basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” sprite size kink truly belly bulge mt dew dom/sub dessert yes served by Kimi Antonelli

Kimi x Grumpy! reader

TW - riding cock, belly bulge, size kink, missionary, unprotected sex, creampie

WC 1400+

Y/N POV

"Why are you so moody today," Kimi whispered into my ear while pinching my thigh is a "behave yourself" manner.

"I'm not," I snapped whispering back getting more annoyed with my boyfriend. He just rolls his eyes at me before turning his attention back to the rest of the table and joining in on their conversation leaving me to wallow in my own annoyance at my boyfriend.

"Are you good?" Ollie asks keeping his volume down so only I can hear him.

"I'm fine, why does everyone think I'm not," I whisper back at him letting him be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing. I cringe slightly when I realize Kimi had heard me snap at Ollie making him pinch my thigh a little harder.

"I mean you're normally pretty "grumpy" but today you have this look in your eye like you wanna destroy the world," Ollie whispers softly. I just shrug and we leave the conversation there.

He was right though, Kimi had always been the golden retriever boyfriend and I was the typical "black cat" girlfriend, which wasn't necessarily false but Kimi knew the truth. It was just a way to protect myself not wanting too many people getting too close to me, but Kimi spent years working on breaking my walls down, and here we are years later still going as strong as ever. As for the modd I'm in today, it's everyone else's comments on Kimi's F1 announcement that has me wanting to "destroy the world" or whatever Ollie said.

When the dinner wrapped up Kimi and I go back to his hotel room where he finally gets the answers he was looking for.

"It's just unfair Kimi! I mean they barely even watch you in Formula 2 and then the one time they watch you, you crash and while that is embarrassing I'm gonna be real with you BUT that doesn't mean you need to wait," I continue ranting laying in bed with Kimi making him smile but start kissing at my jaw and neck during my rant starting to distract me.

"Watching you get so mad on my behalf, it fucking hot," Kimi mumbles into my neck rutting his hips into my side letting me feel his hard cock through his briefs. I just roll my eyes and laugh.

"I can't believe my very serious rant about hating the fans of Formula 1 has you so horny you're grinding into me," I joke before turning onto my side so I'm facing him and pulling him in for a quick kiss.

Kimi refused to pull away so what was supposed to be a quick peck turned into us fighting for dominance with our tongues. Finally Kimi is pushing me on my back before climbing on top of me pinning my hands above my head all the while keeping his mouth on top of mine.

"Kimi, I need you," I whine against his mouth making him let out a breathy laugh making my pussy throb just at the noise.

"Hm. I wanna watch you bounce on my cock," Kimi said with a smirk before letting me use my strength to turn us over so I was the one on top now.

I start grinding my hips into Kimi's large cock making both of us whimper at the stimulation. I pull my sleep shirt off my body leaivng me in the lacey black panties I was going to sleep in before Im shuffling my body down slightly before pulling Kimi's briefs off letting his hard cock rest against his torso showing just how large he truly is. The tip is barely touching the bottom of his bellybutton.

I instantly start jerking his cock off dwarfing the size of my hand.

"Miracle I can walk in the mornings," I mumble softly making Kimi laugh at my little comment. Losing my virginity to Kimi was terrible and he refused to touch me for weeks after but as time went on we learned how to pleasure each other taking everything slow before I finally got my redo which was amazing.

"I can make it to where you can't walk tomorrow," Kimi said with a smirk written all over his face making my cheek heat at the suggestion. I just shook my head no, knowing tomorrow wasn't a good day for that.

I release Kimi's cock and make quick work of pulling my panties down before I'm climbing back into Kimi's lap. When I grip Kimi's cock I softly tease my clit making me whimper due to how sentive I was, but I needed to collect as much moisture on his cock as possible which wasn't very difficult.

Once Kimi's cock is drenched in my essence I slowly start sinking down making both of us gasp. Once I'm fully seated on Kimi's cock I give myself a few seconds to adjust before I start rocking my hips making both Kimi and I groan at the pleasure.

I start bouncing on Kimi's cock making both of us gasp and moan at the intense pleasure.

"Fuck, so fucking tight," Kimi groans making me speed up my actions slightly but still not going fast enough to bring either of us to an orgasm.

Kimi finally takes over and flips up back so he's on top and he slowly starts pounding into me making me gasp and moan feeling Kimi all over.

"Made just for me huh?" Kimi says with a smirk making me look at him noticing that he was staring at my tummy making me look down to notice the bulge from Kimi's cock.

I moan at the sight of Kimi's cock going in and out of my body slightly stunned at how noticeable it is.

"Fuck, faster please," I whimper while pulling Kimi's neck down to me so I can kiss him while he speeds up his actions making me whimper at the intensity.

Kimi pulls back slightly and starts fucking into me faster than he was previously making me gasp and feel my orgasm start to approach. Kimi knowing my body so well picked up on this and started pushing down on the bulge in my stomach making me feel Kimi so much more than before, it was starting to get almost too intense.

"Too much, slower," I moan and gasp out through a stuttered breath.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” Kimi says with a smirk all over his face. While he kept up the pace he let up just slightly on my stomach.

"I can tell you wanna cum," Kimi says before moving his hand from my stomach to my clit and rubbing it in soft circles bringing me over the edge.

"Fuck," I whimper while arching my back and cumming all over Kimi's cock sending him over the edge with one final thrust before unloading a massive load of his cum deep into my pussy making sure to fill me before slowly slipping his cock out not wanting to hurt my overstimulated pussy.

When Kimi slipped out of my pussy he just sits back on his knees and watches as some of his cum starts leaking out of my pussy.

"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" Kimi mumbles softly leaning down to kiss my lips making me blush at the dirty praise.

"Do you feel better?" Kimi jokes with a smirk all over his face making me roll my eyes and nod softly making Kimi laugh.

"You take me so well," Kimi says while getting out of bed and pulling me into his arms where he carries me into the bathroom where he puts me on the toilet to do my business while he turns his back and turns the shower on.

After Kimi and I shower together he helps me get dressed into a new shirt to sleep in before helping me step into my panties before laying us both of us on the bed for a cuddle.

"Did I really look like I wanted to destroy the world?" I question feeling back for snapping at everyone today. Kimi just nodded his head softly making me groan while he laughed at me slightly.

"I yelled at Ollie," I state softly making Kimi pull me into his side and place a soft kiss on my cheek.

"I know, I heard. But, if you feel that bad you can apologize tomorrow on the flight back," Kimi tells me softly knowing I won't feel better until I do apologize to Ollie. I just nod my head softly before melting into Kimi's embrace and falling asleep in his arms.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

hi, like your writing alot, can i request ej with an so who likes to kiss his scars/him in general in an attempt to make him feel better?

Helloooo I hope you enjoy, I'm feeling a lil wonky myself today, so I tried to make this fluffy for you

Jack tries to insist oftentimes that he's perfectly fine and dandy, although that's not quite true. Most days he is alright, but there are a lot of times when his past and his trauma overwhelm him, where he gets incredibly depressed and despondent, but he does his best to hide it behind his stoic personality. To you, however, who knows him so well and notices all his signs and tells that could slip past others, it's quite obvious when he's in a depressive rut, as he is right now. It's upsetting to watch him try and work through these things alone, so of course you want to be there for him to help him, and the best way to do that is usually through physical affection. You've made it a routine to try and soothe him with touch, as you've found over time that he benefits greatly from it, as touch-starved as he is, and today is no different.

Being nocturnal, he usually doesn't wake up until late in the afternoon, and when you find him today it's obvious his lethargy is hitting him. He's normally up and getting dressed, but today he's lying in bed buried under the covers, showing no signs of moving anytime soon. As you move to crawl into his bed beside him, he turns immediately, sighing as he shoves his face into your chest and pulls you firmly against him, trying to snuggle all of his worries away. You're the only person he truly lets his guard down around, and as you move back to look at his face, the depression and worry lines are clearly sinking into him, and you're quick to cover his face in kisses, causing surprised noises to rise from him, but they're quickly replaced by purrs, his feline ears relaxing and his tail swishing back and forth. Your eyes trace over the various scars across his skin, scars Jack tries (and often succeeds to, due to his lack of vision) to forget about, your fingers moving to trace them gently. His body tenses a bit at the feeling of you caressing them, but the purrs continue to leave him as he headbutts into you gently, but you continue to do what you always do and move your lips across his scars.

It always flusters him when you do so, giving him a deep feeling in his chest he's not sure how to process, a feeling that makes him a little uncomfortable as he's not used to feeling it, but at the same time he doesn't want you to stop. He can't see the scars across his skin, some of them from work, some of them from the night he became a demon, some of them inflicted by his own hands during his darker nights, but he hates them. He can't see how they make him look, but the more insecure parts of his mind tell him they must make him look even more monstrous, and it's a sore spot for him, so for you to treat them so delicately, for you to lovingly kiss them in an attempt to make him feel better, it just deeply flusters him in a way he never thought he'd feel. Your repetitive attempts to do this to him over time have soothed his worries a lot, but it doesn't make him any less embarrassed every time you do it. It makes him happy that you love him so much, that you accept him and cherish him despite what he perceives to be flaws. He feels himself relaxing and his negative thoughts leaving him as your lips gently work their way across his face now, and his nose scrunches up when you intentionally try and tickle him with butterfly kisses, causing you to laugh at his adorable expression. It's a repetitive process you like to do, one that brings both of you joy, and while Jack never thought that it would do so, he feels so at peace knowing he's finally found someone who loves him enough to do things like this. While he was originally so shy about you doing things like this, there are lots of days where he finds himself missing this, finds himself wanting to find you, and ask you to do this to him, but you always seem to know just when he needs it. He loves you more than he ever thought he'd be able to love anything, and the fact that you clearly care about him so much increases that love tenfold. He feels himself drifting back off to sleep as you continue to kiss all over him, a smile on his face as peace runs through his mind, all thanks to you.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Jealousy

♡ Genre: Hurt/comfort, very fluff ending ♡ Pairing: Pro Hero!Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up, established relationships, dating (Jealousy on both sides, it's all unfounded so don't worry! You two are loyal like dogs to each other)

Bakugou was the jealous type.

Everybody in the entire country knew that. There was nothing Bakugou hated more than imagining you leaving him for somebody else. You wanted to tease him about it sometimes, but his jealousy made him so distressed that you ended up comforting him instead.

Currently, Bakugou was still seething at the man who last flirted with you. The guy disappeared into the street's crowd under Bakugou's contemptuous gaze. His anger could only be distracted by you and your words.

"It's okay, Katsuki," you said, while hugging him. "I only love you. I didn't even flirt back, you know?"

"...I know," Bakugou said. He kissed you on the lips, somewhat possessively. When he opened his eyes again, he looked so sad. "One of these days I wonder if you're gonna find somebody better than me."

"Katsuki!" You glared at him. "I could never find someone better than you! You are the sweetest, most loyal guy I've ever met! Even if you do have a temper." You giggled, poking his forehead.

"Dummy." Bakugou rested his forehead against yours, his arm close around your waist. "Sorry. Shouldn't have gotten jealous."

"No, it's okay! Always tell me when you're jealous, always!"

That's how most of Bakugou's jealousy fits went. Over time, Bakugou became less and less easily aggravated, but he still had his possessive moments. But no matter what, he'd never take his anger out on you or try to control you out of fear.

Meanwhile, you rarely got jealous of Bakugou, mainly because you weren't the type but also because there wasn't much to be jealous of. Bakugou made it crystal clear to everyone what he did and didn't like, and you were one of the few things included on the "like" list. In fact, you were the only person ever included on the "love" list.

But despite Bakugou's poor reputation with the public, he still occasionally found fans who fawned over him. These fans sometimes made you uncomfortable.

One day, you two were out in public together in a quiet side path of the town, walking between various shops. Coincidentally, you caught some of his fawning fans exiting a store. Bakugou paid them no attention but you couldn't take your eyes off of the potential "predators" on your relationship. The fans soon passed but not without some loud screeching and several pictures taken without Bakugou's permission. Initially it irritated Bakugou, but you noticed by the end of it he was paying more attention to you.

"Are you jealous?" he asked, seriously. You two walked in the opposite direction of the fans, their voices getting less loud with more distance.

"Of course not..." you lied. "They're just random fans, it doesn't matter."

You didn't want him to tease you for this. This was one of the few times you had to deal with jealousy, and it took you off guard. It was irrational too, and you knew it. Still, you didn't always like being actively reminded that Bakugou could be wanted by others.

Bakugou wasn't having this. He stopped you in the middle of the side path you walked down, his expression focused.

"Don't be jealous, alright?" he said. You opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted. "And don't deny that you are jealous! I've been jealous of you tons of times, so I can recognize that shit anywhere. But it's just your mind playing tricks on you. You're still the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I only go for the best, ya hear me?" He started beaming at you, and you could tell he really meant it. "I'd rather throw myself off a cliff than go back on my promises to you."

That did warm your heart. He caught your lips turning up and his hand brushed against your cheek, but you still shied away from him.

"I just don't get why you chose me," you said. "You've got so many fans. Sometimes I wonder if there are better options for you out there..."

"I fucking doubt it. I have the best judgment and the best taste, so if I chose you, that fucking means something. It means you're as great as me... or better. Now don't go saying that negative stuff about my girlfriend. Or else."

"O-okay! Alright!"

You didn't know what the heck he could be threatening you with, but you didn't want to find out. Regardless, he still looked after you and made sure nothing the fans did ever bothered you. He would never tease you for your jealousy, because he personally knew how much it hurt. You were one of the few people he could trust, and because of that you two were dead loyal to each other no matter the odds.

[reblogandlikes]

I'm convinced I'm not the target audience for the acotar series because I just saw someone say that they're rereading it and somehow love Rhysand more...? The first time I can understand the lack of introspection and caught up in the hype, but the second time? Seriously? Do people honestly think as Feyre and the IC does about him and are unable to see past the false persona of "amazingness" when he's a terrible leader and throws his power around to those who rightfully challenge him as a form of intimidation?

Maybe because they know where they story ends, they're now reading everything from a 20/20 romantic lense because they "understand him", but even with this understanding, to me, makes his entire personality even more underwhelming, forced and unnecessary. Oh so powerful, yet barely does anything substantial with it. Then what's the fucking point of you other than to fill a "morally ambitious", super powerful, dark haired quota trying to convey feminism, but not actually?

And then, when I'm critical, I have to check myself and ask if I'm being bloody pompous, but no. No, I'm not. The love for Rhysand is baffling for the genre he is in, and i think that's one of my main gripes. Dark romance, sure. But not in a series that has the audacity to hammers down "abusive" behaviour on one character but not the other in the books and by fans in online spaces. It's so weird. If you have fae's, let them be viciously so, because they are not human. Their behaviours and customs should be the differences highlighted. That should be the appeal, or am I wrong? Not for the faeness to used to be OK in one moment, but not in the next because it doesn't suit the convience of the plot or may paint your beloved in a bad light. You've then just convoluted your own world, sjm, and takes away character depth.

I'm tempted to say that I've aged out of sjm's storytelling style, but i've witnessed fully grown adults eat this shit up. But age has nothing to do with this, and I'm just honestly at a loss. I feel like an outlier. Like, I'm just not getting the appeal to these favourable characters and get frustrated when things are clearly unjust or misrepresented, yet others swear ones actions and behaviours are perfectly fine yet hate to see it in others. You can't just pick and choose when shit is ok or not, especially when the characters have very similar reasoning behind their actions. Maybe I like shit to be nuanced too much, which would explain why it irks me of being told what to believe in contrary to evidence.

It's ok to like whatever book you want, but just dont lie about the content within or delude tourselfninto believing characterisations that are false because even authors fall victim to their own character bias. *Sigh* So I'mma chill and go tackle the books on my tbr.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part 7

Summary: Your friend "date" with Jungkook is interesting but thankfully the events from this morning don't prevent you from having a good time. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 3.8K (I'm sorry it's short but I wanted to get it out since it's been way too long) Warnings: No real warnings other than slightly jealous and possessive Jungkook (but we all know that's a good warning 🤭) a/n: It's been fucking four months I'm so sorry 😭 It's been so hard for me to update my series recently since my attention span literally sucks right now so one shots have been a lot easier to get out but hopefully some of you guys are still around to read this story 🥲 p.s. the last third of this isn't edited at all so please ignore any nonsense 😅

After Jungkook and I finally agree on an outfit for me to wear we head off to whatever mysterious location he's taking us to. 

"You gonna pout all the way there?" he teases, pointing out my crossed arms and legs and the fact that I haven't spoken to him since we left. "I told you I hate surprises" I grumble, the feeling of the unknown making me uncomfortable. 

"You've gotta live a little Darling" he teases and goes back to driving. He hands me his phone that's plugged into the aux as a sign for me to put on a playlist and that brings up my mood right away. He chuckles when he sees me put on my favorite song since he knows that music always lifts my spirits.

"You're never gonna get tired of this song are you?" he sighs, this being the twelfth time he's asked. "Nope" I answer, popping the 'p' at the end. "This song came out when you were two years old" he chuckles, trying to clue me in but I don't pay any mind to it. "All the more reason to like it!" I argue back and he shakes his head.

"Perfect Man by Shinhwa is a masterpiece and I will accept no arguments" I say, making my statement on the matter final. 

There's a quiet air that's hung between us for a couple moments before when both bust out laughing. "I swear we never fail to have the same conversation every time I play this song" I point out and he smiles.

"That's because I love watching you defend something with your whole being. It's cute" he says and my throat gets dry. 

This being the first semi flirty comment he's thrown at me since everything happened. Well, besides commenting on how I look because who wants to be told nothing after putting on a cute outfit, even when he's the one who's chosen it. 

His comments have been nothing but respectful so there's no harm in letting him do as he pleases but it's just making this whole friends ordeal a lot harder.

~~~~~~

As we pull up to the place he had kept a secret from me I realize why he had me wear this specific outfit since from the looks of it we've come to some sort of ropes course. 

"I've never been to one of these" I say, marveling at the zip lines, ropes, ladders and pulley systems that are strewn about this forested area.

"Do you wanna give it a try? We can always just go to the restaurant they have here but I thought I would still offer it since I told you I had something fun planned for us" he offers, leaving the choice up to me but I nod my head immediately, really wanting to try it out. 

"Yeah?" he chuckles when he sees my excitement grow. "Yes! Come on let's go!" I say, grabbing his hand and trying to drag him along.

"Wait a second Bunny" he chuckles, holding me back and I watch him as he opens the trunk and grabs a big hoodie for me to wear. "So we don't mess up that pretty little top you're wearing" he says and the playfulness around the statement making my heart skip a beat. 

"I could've brought my own" I say but he shakes his head in protest. "It's easier this way so you don't have to worry about it getting dirty, now arms up" he says and I furrow my brow. "Jungkook I can put it on myself" I laugh but he doesn't find it amusing. "I know, arms up" he orders and I do as he says, laughing at the no doubt comical sight of him struggling with it. 

"You know now that I think about it it's a lot easier to take your clothes off than it is to put them on" he casually says, making me wack him in the arm once the hoodie is on properly. "Friends Jungkook. Or I can go back to calling you Mr. Jeon" I say with an arched brow and he chuckles. "Friends" he agrees and closes the trunk.

"So can we go now?" I ask, glancing over at the course before looking back to him for approval. "Yes Bunny go ahead" he says, giving me the go ahead and following after me as I make a bee line for the equipment room. 

"Hi!" I say excitedly to the guy at the counter when it's my turn to check us in. "Hey, first time?" he chuckles, me looking around at everything with a childlike wonder in my eyes. "Yeah! I honestly didn't even know a place like this existed around here" I admit, Jungkook again taking me to a place I had never been before. 

I guess he really is determined to take all of my firsts. 

"Well I hope you'll come around more often then, there's a whole lot more to experience than just these ropes" he says and in my awestruck state I don't notice the suggestive tone behind his wording. 

"You find something you like?" he asks, my sight going past him and looking at all the harnesses. "I have a friend that's coming in a second so do you think you could get us two?" I ask while pointing at them. 

"Sure, is your friend as pretty as you are?" he asks and before I can even think of a response someone is interrupting our conversation. "I would think so" I hear a deep voice say behind me, his hand placed on my hip in a slight possessive manner making my breath hitch. 

The boy's eyes widen a bit, looking at the dynamic between the two of us and doesn't exactly know what to make of it and decides to go find harnesses for the both of us. 

"What was that?" I ask, whipping around and glaring up at him. "What? We agree to be friends for a little while and suddenly you're ready to jump ship?" Jungkook says, crossing his arms and watching as the boy not so casually glances over at us. 

"He was just being friendly" I scoff, knowing for a fact that he wasn't but playing into this oblivious act I had accidentally fallen into. "Right...friendly" he says in a monotone, not wanting to get into a senseless argument and taking the high road. I don't miss the way his hand balls into a fist for a second before relaxing it once I've decided to drag him over to look at the little souvenirs they have in the shop. 

"Alright here's a harness for you, and one for you sir." the employee says, a flirtatious tone in his voice when he addresses me and a more strict and professional voice when he addresses Jungkook. 

"Did you want some help putting that on?" the boy asks, clearly just taking it as a chance to get closer to me since Jungkook's slight display of possessiveness of me wasn't a big enough clue that we may...or may not be together. "Oh no that's okay, I'm sure you've got other things to do" I deny, stepping into it on my own and in true y/n fashion I end up tripping over one of the straps. 

"Careful Darling" Jungkook says, steadying me on my feet and when I look back over at the boy he's awkwardly frozen with his arms out, having intended to help me but decided against it since he was smart enough to realize that it might not be the smartest idea. 

I look between the boy and Jungkook and see how Jungkook hasn't stopped glaring at him no matter how uncomfortable the boy is. "Looks like you've got other customers to help" Jungkook says, nodding towards the people at the counter, clearly looking to check in just as we did. 

"Right, well let me know if you need anything" he responds, his focus completely on me as he relays his message. "I will" Jungkook jumps in and the boy nervously glances between the two of us before heading over to the counter and helping the group of four that just came in. 

"Was that really necessary?" I ask, my arms crossed over my chest as Jungkook tightens the harness on me, making sure I won't need any 'help' with it later. "He was trying way too hard and he clearly couldn't get a clue about us" he says, his glare still prevalent in his direction. 

"Jungkook there isn't an 'us' right now okay" I say and he sighs. "Keep on telling yourself that" he mumbles quite enough that I couldn't make it out when another crowd comes in. "What was that?" I ask but he quickly brushes it off and herds me out of the store before it gets even more crowded. 

As we wait for the group to now gather in the waiting area outside neither of us have spoken a word to each other, stealing glances every so often since we just can't help it. We're attracted to each other and from my point of view I don't think that's gonna change anytime soon. 

"Alright everyone can I get you all gathered over here?" that same guy from inside the shop calls out and we all do as he says with Jungkook cursing under his breath. "Fucking fantastic, he's our leader" he grumbles but I grab him by the arm and drag him so we can catch up with the group. 

"Come on I thought you said this was supposed to be fun" I say and he sighs, collecting himself and slowly changing his attitude. "Alright I'm sorry Darling" he says, not dragging his feet or sulking anymore and putting that nonsensical jealously out of his head...at least for right now. 

"Alright welcome welcome everyone to BranchBound Adventures! How's everyone doing today?" he asks and we all let out cheers of excitement but what I don't notice is the way that Jungkook looks at me with a soft smile when he realizes again how much I'm loving this already. He takes a mental note to bring me here again soon so he can watch that same childlike excitement bloom again. 

"Excellent, looks like we've got a fun group here today! Well my name is Jayson and this is Kimberly and we're gonna be your BranchBound Buddies, sound good?" he says and I can't ignore the way Jungkook snorts at the title they've been given but it's only loud enough for me to hear thankfully. 

"Behave!" I scold, not wanting to turn this into some sort of immaturity contest when he knows damn well he's a grown ass adult and he should not be acting like this. He holds his hands up in surrender when he sees my glare but can't help but smirk at the fact that Jayson as we've recently found out his name is watching our exchange. 

As the day goes by and we're close to the end of our little ropes course adventure Jayson decides it's now or never and decides to make another move. 

"You've done a great job today! Didn't know you would be so good with ropes" he says, not hiding the fact that he's probably imagining using these ropes on me in a completely different context. "Yeah I didn't know I would be either" I chuckle and look over and see Jungkook glaring daggers into Jayson's forehead while he hooks me up to the zip line.

"Did you want to go nice and slow or fast?" he asks, his eyes drinking me in but I don't pay him any mind as I just watch the way that Jungkook is reacting to our exchange. "Y/n?" Jayson asks, breaking me out of the trance I had been lost in, thinking about what Jungkook would do to me after this if we were together. 

"Sorry what?" I ask and I can tell that he's pretty much starting to get the memo at this point. "Nothing, just tuck your legs in close to you if you want to go faster" he explains and I nod my head and wait while Jungkook gets hooked up to the other line thats parallel to mine. 

"Wanna race?" I challenge him since I know he would never back down from one. "What do I get if I win?" he says with a smirk.

"Whatever you want..." I say nervously and I have a feeling I'm going to regret that. "...but I want ice cream if I win!" I say to wipe away the tension but he brings it right back with his claim if he wins.

"I want a kiss" he says and when he clearly sees the way that I'm gearing up to protest a simple cock of his brow silences that. "You said that I could have anything I want right?" he asks I sigh and nod, my energy to go back on my word dissipating. 

It's just one kiss right?

"Deal" I agree and he can't hold back the smile and vote of confidence it gives him. "Get ready to lose" he says and before I have a chance to argue back Kimberly is counting us off and in my semi scattered state Jungkook takes off before me giving him a ten second head-start. 

"No fair!" I call after him when I'm finally able to catch up and he let's out a hearty laugh. "You're the one who proposed this whole race Bunny" he says making me look away, 'his timing with that nickname is always impeccable', I think to myself as I hide my blush.

"Hurry up!" I hear him call out as he is suddenly a lot further down the line than I am. "Hey!" I laugh, deciding to put that thought away to not sour my mood and just focus on there here and now. 

Once I finally get to the end Jungkook has already gotten unhooked from the zip line and is standing victorious waiting to claim his prize. 

"You only won because you're taller than me" I grumble as if I'm actually upset that he won when in fact the thought of him putting in effort just to kiss me make my heart beat faster. "I thought smaller things were supposed to be more aerodynamic" he teases in response but I huff and stand in front of him, clearly waiting for him to claim his reward. 

"I didn't say when I was going to kiss you" he teases and walks away and back toward the shop where we had first come from since our time is up. "Hey!" I protest again, not liking the slight embarrassment he caused me. 

"Oh come on you'll be okay" he teases as he takes his harness off and then helps me out of mine after. "Whatever" I huff and something behind me catches his eye and before I'm able to turn around he's knocking me off my feet and giving me a rather over exaggerated kiss if you ask me to the point that people are whistling and hyping us up.

I hit on his chest when I'm finally running out of air and he carefully puts me back on my feet and when I catch the sight of Jayson staring at us with an unreadable expression on his face I know now why he did that. 

"You're insufferable" I huff and fix my rumbled clothes from his breathless kiss but he doesn't seem bothered in the slightest. "Interesting response after receiving a kiss that made you blush but I'll take it" he shrugs and we both head back into the gift shop for the last time so Jungkook can no doubt flaunt the fact that from Jayson's point of view we're together. 

Honestly I could care less and I won't deny that it was hot as fuck watching him get angry with the very minimal interactions Jayson and I had but I won't let him have that satisfaction. "Didn't realize you were so insecure" I taunt and make sure his eyes are on me before I look over to where Jayson is still clearly watching us and give him a flirty wave goodbye with Jungkook hurrying to usher me out. 

"I wouldn't be insecure if you were mine already so until then you'll have to be patient with me" he says through gritted teeth, a reaction I was hoping for from that little stunt I pulled. "I can manage" I say and walk off towards the only restaurant here where I'm sure he was planning on taking me and when he follows me and has a hand placed low on my waist to guide me there my suspicions are confirmed. 

"Reservation for Jeon" he says to the host at the front desk and while he looks for it Jungkook's demeanor is a little softer, that soft maturity coming back from having us in a controlled and relaxed environment. "Right this way Mr and Mrs. Jeon" the host says and I practically choke on air at that, the title mistakenly given to me sending my heart into overdrive. 

"Don't worry she's fine, come on Honey" Jungkook reassures the waiter as Jungkook encourages me along to follow him to our table. 

Once we're seated our waiter comes by immediately to bring us water since I had clearly caused enough of a spectacle to garner a hurried solution for my coughing fit. He gives us our menus as well soon after and leaves us be, allowing me some more space to compose myself. 

Jungkook can't hide the smile he's had since my reaction had started and has turn slightly smug at seeing the blush it had caused me. "Shut up" I grumble and take another gulp of water having traded his glass for mind since I had practically drank mine in one go after that. 

"I didn't say anything" he chuckles leaving me glaring at him. "But your face did" I say after having put my almost empty glass back down on the table. "Oh yeah? And what is it saying now?" he asks, leaning forward as if he was giving me a better look at it. 

"It's saying that you're enjoying the fact that I'm still squirming over the thought of being called Mrs. Jeon" I say and he sits back, proud of my intuition. "Impressive Bunny. Better get used to it though" he says cockily and I narrow my eye at him and scoff. 

"You're pretty confident for someone I technically haven't agreed to date" I say but his smirk widens before throwing out a playful 'Yet' and our waiter is back at our table before I have a chance to argue back. 

After the waiter has taken our order and a little while after is bringing out our food our conversations have gone back to what had been seen as normal for us. A slight flirty edge to his words which I not so subtly glare at in response always making him chuckle but it's getting harder and harder for me to want to do that.

Why should I scold him? It's not like I don't want him too...

As we finish up the day with the ice cream I technically did not earn we start to make our way back to his car where he opens the door for me and make it a point to put on my seatbelt so I can still enjoy the cone I'm almost finished with. 

"Thanks Dad" I tease after he's buckled me in like a child and I'm granted a sarcastic smile in return only making me smile harder. He closes the door and gets in on his side and soon we're on our way back to the house...

~~~~~

The ride back is quiet, comfortable but quiet with the only sound being the hum of my playlist coming through the speaker and the gusts of cool air coming through the vents but it's soon broken by the question he's been wanting to ask. 

"Did you have fun?" it's a simple question but I know thoughts of what had happened earlier today are coming back to him as we get closer and closer to the house. "I did, a lot actually. You're not too shabby at planning dates" I confirm and he glances over with a smirk. 

"I thought this wasn't a date?" he counters and I chuckle. "It wasn't until you kissed me" I say and he shakes his head. "A kiss equals a date, got it" he says quietly, tucking that information into his back pocket and I can't help but smile as I see a soft one still rests on his lips. 

~~~~

When we finally pull into the driveway and he turns off the engine I hold onto his arm for a second, asking him to stay in the car for a second so he does and sits back and keeps his eyes on me, waiting for what I have to say.

The thing is is that I don't know what to say, I don't even know why I asked him to stay in here but he just watches me fondly, not rushing anything and waiting patiently for me. 

"I don't think we can be friends" I say, looking down at my lap so I can't see the expression he has on his face. "What do you mean by that Bunny?" he asks, that nickname making my heart skip a beat like it does every time and I shake my head, still looking down at my lap. "I mean, I don't wanna be friends" I say hoping he'll understand and when he lifts my chin I expect him to ask me to explain what I mean but instead I'm met with his lips on mine.

They're not full of passion or lust or anything of the sort. Just pure longing and understanding, understanding of the want to go about things at my own pace, an understanding that he's okay with going slow and that's all I need. 

"We can go slow" he says after we've broken the kiss, audibly confirming what he had physically displayed and I bite back a smile and nod before placing a soft kiss on his lips. 

"Thank you" I whisper and he pulls away to get a better look at me. "Whatever for?" he asks in such a cute way I can't help but laugh. "For not forcing me or making me feel bad about my indecision" I say and he smiles and cups my face, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone, a sad smile on his face at the thought of what I might've gone through with Jared that would require that sense of relief from his actions. 

"I'm sorry about this morning" I say even softer this time and he nods, "I know" and those two words bring me comfort in ways that he couldn't understand even if I told him.

I was scared shitless that I had messed things up, that I had done something that could've damaged us beyond repair but his words and actions from today told me nothing of the sort. 

His maturity shows that he knows what he wants and I want to open up and show him that in return...but I just hope I won't regret it.

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[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Mr. Walz

Featuring Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz

Back in the late ‘90s, Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, and now Vice President Kamala Harris’ running mate, was a high school teacher and football coach in rural Minnesota. I attended Mankato West from 2000-2004, having Walz for 11th grade history. Being gay at the time, I initially expected to hate Walz, because he was a football coach and a hunter. But he was accepting and really friendly with me; with everyone really. He’s genuinely the goofy teacher that was in the hallway greeting every kid every morning, giving high fives and fist bumps. He and his wife, also a teacher at the school, provided vital support during my formative years. And to be honest, I thought he was cute.

He was in his late 30s and about 21 years my senior at that time, about my height, which is just shy of five foot-nine. He was chiselled like most middle-aged men with a gut. He dressed conservatively, usually a short sleeve solid colored shirt with a tee shirt under it and trousers which seemed to be a few sizes too small. I couldn’t help but find myself staring at his tightly held manhood, which showed a clear outline of his thick cock. That bulge had me daydreaming during our meets and school outings. I would jerk-off with this image in my mind every night.

After graduation, I didn’t see my ex-teacher again until I attended a campaign dinner in Falcon Heights, Minnesota. He instantly recognized me, smiling broadly and gave me a big hug. We’re talking 20-something years ago, and to have your 10th-grade geography teacher remember you after all of that time, it means something. I couldn’t call him Gov. Walz, because he will forever be Mr. Walz.

We talked a bit then, and a couple times throughout the evening. He asked me about what I was up to, if I was dating, the usual chit chat. I was so giddy to see Mr. Walz that I confessed that I had a crush on him in high school. I told him I thought about him every night when I jack off. How I use a big carrot up my ass, and pretend it was his dick. And I told him I knew he would never like me, that way, but I had to tell him.

Surprisingly, he suggested I should come over to his hotel, later, placing his hotel room card on the edge of the sink right next to me.

"Wait here, I'll have an agent escort you to my room in an hour." He said before leaving. I looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but no one had, so I quickly grabbed the key.

Sure enough, an hour later, a secret service agent escorted me to his hotel. The journey upstairs was unbearable. Reporters to dodge, people for the agent to nod away. By the time I got to Mr. Walz’s room, I was afraid he’d think I wasn’t’ interested, but when I entered the room, he was ready and waiting. The lights were dim, Mr. Walz was in a hotel bathrobe, and he’d ordered porn on the television.

"Is this what you really want?" I asked.

"More then anything." He replied.

I made the first move, leaning in to kiss him and as soon as our lips met, his arms went around me. Quickly, he started unbuttoning my shirt, unzipping my pants, and basically tearing my clothes off as he moved his tongue around inside my mouth. His hand was on my hard dick, feeling and testing the size.

"Oh, yeah." He moaned, as he ran his hand down my tender, sensitive cock before squatting.

With his mouth at my crotch, he ran his tongue up all seven inches, before gently pushing me towards the bed. On the bed, our bodies melded into one. His hard dick was teasing mine, as once again, our tongues found the other's mouth. Hands everywhere, as we hugged and rocked each other. Kissing my way down his chest, I left a trail of saliva all the way to his cock. Taking him in my mouth, I began to suck while I swirled my tongue around his boner before he started thrusting into my throat, making me gag. I guess he got pretty turned on by what I was doing to him as he turned me around and put us into 69 position.

As Mr. Walz took my dick in his mouth, I took his dick in mine. I worked on it with such skill that he began moaning deep inside his throat as he sucked my dick. And he could really suck; he knew how to please a man. I began to feel him starting to breathe rapidly and shake. I knew he was going to explode soon. I was getting close as well.

Wanting Mr. Walz to fuck me, I quickly seperated, and rolled off the bed leaving him laying there completely naked with a huge hard-on. Hurrying to my pants, I pulled a tube of lubrication out of his pocket before I bounded back to the bed. After telling him I wanted him to fuck me, I tensely watched as Mr. Walz applied the lubricate to his cock, knowing the pain I was about to feel. I couldn’t help but thinking back to my high school years when I first saw him. I had always wanted Mr. Walz to fuck me since then. Now was the time.

“You got a nice tight asshole.” Mr. Walz told me as he rubbed some of the KY onto my asshole.

He lifted my legs and stared me straight in the eyes as he guided the head of his cock to my ass. As soon as his dick made contact, he immediately thrust all 8 inches into me. I gasped loudly, so loudly in fact that I’m sure the people in the next room heard.

“I’m going to really open up your asshole.” Mr. Walz called out with a wicked smile on his face as he slowly started fucking me.

Noticing each time the fat head of his cock passed my hard prostate, pre-cum would squirt from the tip of my dick. He reached down and scooped it up with his finger, brought it to his mouth and licked it clean.

"Oh, man, that's good." He said, as he scooped up more, but I pulled his finger to his mouth, and sucked it in.

We smiled at each other before he leaned forward and kissed me deep, our tongues caressed each other, sharing my pre-cum. Then as we kissed he sent his cock plunging deeper into me. I arched my back as I was forced to take more cock deeper into my ass than ever before.

“Yes, fuck me, Mr. Walz.” I found myself saying when he broke our embrace, “Give it to me, Mr. Walz. Make me yours!”

And he did just that. Mr. Walz started fucking me hard and fast. I took each of the strokes of his his old manhood willingly. I wanted to give him total pleasure and I could tell from the far away look in his eye that the old man was as lost in me as I was in him. I knew he was getting close, and I didn’t want to stop him, so I didn’t say a word about pulling out. Having only had sex with his wife for all those years, he didn’t think of it either. Soon he was filling my ass with ropes of cum, and I felt it filling me up.

After we got off and caught our breath, he looked at me and we both started laughing and telling each other how glad we were that we'd just met up today.

[cosmicdahlias]

I Hate Everything About You

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

warnings: slut-shaming, slapping, oral, rough sex, choking, breeding, drugs (weed)

this is my first stab at an enemies to lovers fic. i’ve always loved the trope, so this was a lot of fun. i also definitely didn’t include them smorkig weed because i’m like missing it and living vicariously through my writing or anything. 👀💦

You sat in your dorm finishing your homework. You were in your junior year at Backupsmore University with a major in theoretical physics, winter break was two weeks away. Tonight you were on edge, dreading a knock on the door. The reason? You had been assigned to write a research paper with Stanford fucking Pines.

Oh my god how you hated him. Success and praise flocked to him. You were the only feminine presenting person in your major, and thus had to fight tooth and nail to be seen as even half as good as your male classmates.

It drove you mad how professors just seemed to naturally love him, whereas they never showed you the time of day. And worst of all? He was arrogant and self-absorbed. He thought himself so much better than the other- in his words- “troglodytes” around him.

But what you hated the most was how attracted to him you were. How could you want to fuck someone so badly when you hated their guts? You always tried to repress your feelings, but some nights you still shamefully found yourself with your hand between your legs, thoughts running wild of Stanford using you like a sex toy.

You quietly seethed over your homework when you heard knocking at your door. You sighed heavily and pushed your chair back, savoring your last Stanford free moments.

You swung the door open and there stood the man that you despised more than everything.

“Stanford.” You said coldly.

“Y/n.” He responded, not even entertaining the idea of making eye contact with you, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.

-

Barely an hour had passed before you two found yourselves locked in a heated argument. A simple disagreement over formatting had boiled over.

“Jesus christ, Stanford why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?”

“I’M making things difficult? I’m not the one who’s been shooting daggers all night, barely responding to my questions because apparently talking to me is like pulling teeth. What the hell did I ever do to make you hate me this much?”

“Oh you really wanna know why I hate you? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that professors fawn over you for the most menial effort, meanwhile I’ve had to work myself to the bone, slaving away just to earn half the recognition you barely have to lift a finger for.” You spat.

“Well maybe if you kept your legs closed every now and then this wouldn’t be nearly as hard as you make it.”

Hot tears formed in your eyes, you quickly raised a hand and brought it down hard on his face. He stumbled back, his cheeks turning bright red and not from the slap. You looked down, a bulge clearly forming in his pants.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” You thought, quickly growing angrier that he had managed to turn you on like this.

“For fuck’s sake Stanford, are you serious?” You said through gritted teeth.

“I- well I- it’s not like I can help it. I’ve never been slapped before.”

You stared at each other for a moment, the sexual tension building.

“Look,” he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation “it’s clear we both have some underlying feelings for each other, perhaps it would be for the best if we-“

“Whoa whoa whoa,” you said, cutting him off “maybe you do, but I certainly don’t.”

“Oh please, don’t lie to yourself. I catch you staring at me during lectures all the time, undressing me with your eyes, nothing anywhere like the malice you so pretended to demonstrate tonight. Admit it, you like me. Despite aaaaaall of your personal hangups about my successes, you genuinely have feelings for me.” He said, crossing his arms.

He let his words hang in the air, a smirk creasing his lips. God, he was such a dick. “Now,” he continued “I was going to say I think it would be best if we just put this to bed, literally.”

“Stanford, no I-“ the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.

He chuckled, tilting your chin up. “I knew it, you want this.”

He pressed a firm kiss to your lips. He was right, you did want this. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t imagined him between your thighs during class. You reached a hand down, fondling his cock over his pants.

“Mmm, fuck.” He groaned into your mouth.

You both began removing each other’s clothes desperately. He looked down at your naked body, his breath shaking. He took your breast in his hand, stroking your nipple with his thumb.

“Do you know the things those brutes in class say about you, about your body? When you walk into the room every man fucks you with their eyes, but you like it that way, don’t you?”

You took his thick cock in your hand and stroked it, he moaned and buried his head in the crook of your neck. He pulled himself away then pointed to the floor. You sank to your knees in front of him and wrapped your fingers around his cock again, pumping the near 8.5 inches in your hand. He tilted his head back, groaning and cursing.

“Put my cock in your mouth, baby.”

You went to slowly take his head in your mouth, but he seized a fistful of your hair and shoved the full length down your throat. You choked and gagged.

“You know I was thinking of being nice, but honestly I think you deserve to be brutally fucked after the way you’ve been acting. How does that sound, princess?”

You nodded with his cock buried in your mouth.

“Good, although honestly I was planning on doing it regardless.”

He gritted his teeth and resumed bucking furiously into your mouth. You to whimpered and gagged around him, tears streaming down your face.

“You’re my little slut now, you understand?”

You let out a muffled “Mhmf.”

“Look at you, letting me fuck your mouth like this. Do you let anyone else do this to you?”

He pulled out to let you answer. “No.”

He shoved his cock back in your mouth. “Let’s keep it that way. I’m not big on- mmf, sharing. I always figured the rumors of you being the campus whore weren’t true. You have too much self respect for that, but I bet you’re so dirty when you’re alone. Picturing me fucking you in every position, touching yourself and cumming with my name on your lips.”

He quickened pace, fucking your mouth rapidly in pure aggression. He growled and his hips stuttered, he was going to cum in your mouth if he kept going like this. He pulled you back by your hair and you took in a gasping breath. He didn’t give you a chance to breathe before picking you up and throwing you facedown on the bed.

He knelt behind you, slapping your ass hard a few times. “There, now I think we’re even.”

His hands pinned your wrists to the bed and he teased your entrance for barely even a second before slamming every inch inside you. You struggled to hold back a loud moan, trying to not let the whole floor know that you were getting absolutely wrecked.

He growled and moved his hands to your hips, fucking you so hard that it felt like his cock was going to split you in half.

“I have a confession to make, y/n.” He breathed between violent thrusts into you. “I saw you, two weeks ago, in the library. You didn’t see me, you leaned down to select a book off the lowest shelf and I could see your panties under your skirt. Pink with black lace. God I- I couldn’t resist, not after watching you eye me up in class. I found a quiet part of the library and stroked my cock to the thought of you.”

He picked up his pace, the slaps of his hips meeting your ass only aroused you more. “When our professor announced the assignment I knew I had to have you. I went and spoke to him after class and convinced him to pair you up with me. And now look at you, taking my cock like the whore you are, just like I knew you would.”

You gripped the sheets in your fingers as he pounded you into the mattress. Jesus fucking christ the idea of him getting worked up because of you was enough to fuel your masturbation fantasies for months. The thought of him stroking himself- in public no less- just because he saw your panties, good god you were going to savor that image in your mind forever.

He flipped you over on your back, kissing you deeply. His hands found your hips and pulled you onto his cock, resuming his aggressive rhythm.

“I love the feeling of fucking you from behind, but I need to see those eyes.”

He slid his hand to your throat, gripping it tightly. You choked out a weak moan and the corners of your vision started to turn to black static.

“God you’re gonna make me fucking cum. I want you to look in my eyes as I breed you, princess.”

He pounded faster and faster, savoring every moan and whimper that passed your lips. You dug your nails into his back causing his cock to twitch and throb, edging him closer by the second to cumming inside you.

“Look into my eyes, look into my eyes as I cum in you.” He demanded.

The sight of your doe eyes looking back at him was what did it. His brutally fast pace faltered and his breathing hitched and as he felt himself release deep in you, his hot cum coating your walls. He moaned your name loudly.

He panted, exhausted and collapsed beside you, trying to catch his breath. You were about to kiss him when he started making his way down your body.

“Stanford what are you-“

“Finishing the job, I’m not about to leave you unsatisfied like some kind of neanderthal would, I’m better than that.” He muttered.

You rolled your eyes, there he goes being arrogant as usual.

He took your clit in his mouth, you reached a hand down and buried it in his hair. He hummed against you, tongue lapping at your delicate nub.

“So desperate for me, aren’t you?” He teased.

“Nnnngh, Stanford.”

He looked up at you and chuckled. “Please, call me Ford.”

He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them against your g-spot. You arched your back instinctively and he held you in place by your hips.

“Getting close already are we?”

“Mmh, I can’t help it, you’re too good at this.”

“Surprisingly research goes a long way. It’s amazing what certain books can teach you.” He said with a devilish smile.

“You fucking nerd, I didn’t say you could stop.” You tightened your grip on his hair and pushed him against your clit, he let out a little “hmf”.

You rocked your hips against his tongue, feeling yourself tip over the edge.

“Ahh hah, oh Ford.”

Your orgasm shook you, hitting you hard. All you could do was focus on your breathing. Ford watched you intently, god you looked so perfect when you came.

He moved himself up on the bed, coming behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist, spooning you.

Goddammit, you really thought you were going to just bottle up your feelings for Ford until the day you died, but here you were in post coital bliss with him pressed against you.

-

The conflicting feelings of fucking the classmate you thought you despised moments ago started to weigh on you, you needed to take the edge off. You rolled out of Ford’s arms and off the bed, his eyes following you. You dug around in your bedside drawer pulling out a small baggie and a glass pipe.

You packed the bowl and flicked the lighter, taking took a long drag. You let out a cloud of smoke and sighed heavily before laying back down next to Ford, who was still watching you. You raised an eyebrow.

“What is it six fingers?”

“Nothing, I just-“

“Lemme guess, those anti drug psa’s really got to you as a kid.”

He looked away, embarrassed.

You rolled your eyes again. “Jesus, you really are a fucking nerd. Here.”

You handed the pipe to him, he took it in his hand, studying it for a second before flicking the lighter taking a deep inhale, you watched him hold his breath and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Dude, holding it doesn’t do anything, breathe.” You snorted.

He took gasping breath and let out a hacking cough, smoke coming out of his nose.

“That’s what they- ack- always do in the movies.” He wheezed.

“For the love of god, you really need to get out more.”

You passed the pipe back and forth for a good while, talking about random shit. By the end of it you were both sufficiently stoned.

You quickly learned that Ford was very affectionate when he was high, he pulled you close against him, nuzzling the back of your neck, peppering your skin with kisses. He traced the curves of your body with his fingers.

“You know, I was starting to think you genuinely hated me.” He murmured into your neck.

You let out a long sigh. “Ford don’t think I ever actually hated you, I envy you. Everything seems to come so easy to you, almost naturally. Your professors love you and- I don’t know- it was just hard not to feel a twinge of jealousy. Like this college wasn’t even my first choice, everywhere else rejected me and I still have to bust my ass just to be seen as being worth anyone’s time.”

Ford took a breath and exhaled deeply. “BMU wasn’t exactly what I had planned on either, I mean, remember what they said at orientation? This is no one’s first choice. My dream school was West Coast Tech, but things… fell through.”

He paused, you could tell there was weight to that last part, memories too painful to say aloud. You didn’t pry.

“Y/n, I want you to understand it hasn’t been easy for me either. I’ve had to work twice as hard just to make something of myself at a school with nonexistent educational standards.”

You felt a pang of guilt for ever assuming this was in any way easy for him. You turned to him, holding his face in your hands and kissing him deeply.

He broke away. “You know I was thinking we could grab coffee in the morning before heading to the library to work on our paper together. I- if you want, that is.” He looked away, nervous.

You smiled and kissed him again. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You laid your head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead. His breathing deepened as he began to fall asleep. You soon felt your eyelids grow heavy, following Ford into slumber.

[shakespeare-official-account]

do you ever just sad

[shmypko]

FIGHT CLUB AU(?) FIDDAUTHOR!!

posting no-color version too because the coloring ive done bugs me out i hate the way i did it bro. the only thing i like here is fidds, and even he looks weird. just look at the no-color picture, please man. posting colored version just bc it would feel like ive wasted time for nothing if i didnt

honestly, i had way more ideas, but im so frustrated with my computer i cant even draw normally.

BTW at first bill was supposed to be tyler, but ive thought again and decided that ford would be tyler. now bill is angel face.., emma-may would be marla.. probably.

oh, and original pic i used as a reference

tbh im just disappointed w/ myself at this point

[platonicmoonwater00]

I see these everywhere. and i mean EVERYWHERE. and also i need motivation so lets go ig

10 notes- i'll drink on weekends too(i forget cos on weekends im just at home and not at school lugging around my frank green in my tote bag)

20 notes- i will(try to) pay attention in class

30 notes- i'll watch my whole watch later playlist on yt

50 notes- i'll actually do the techniques im learning in ✨therapy✨ to help with my anxiety and shitty social skills

75 notes- i'll take my iron tablets every day

100 notes- i'll start my assessments when i get them(i have one due tomorrow which i was gonna finish now but i'm doing this apparently)

125 notes- i'll ask my crush to hangout alone during spring holidays

150 notes- i'll try to go for a run or at least a walk every day

500 notes- i'll write another chapter of my fanfiction

1k notes- i will actually make an effort to get clean

2k notes- if i see someone pretty that i want to go out w in public i'll ask for their number cos holy fuck i need to put myself out there. even if we js end up being friends cos holy shit im lonely

3k notes- i will actually finished the dress i started making

4k notes- i will try to get over my crush cos its ✨never gonna happen✨(she so pretty and masc tho its gonna be hard)

5k notes- (this is so far up here cos idk how to do this so im gonnna need a lot of time to figure out how) im gonna try to demolish the rumour that im gay thats going around a bit.**

6k notes- i will finish all my crochet projects and not start any new ones until im done.

**context. i go to an all girls school and theres a lot of people so its not like everyone knows everyone, even in my year(theres approx. 174 in my year alone, and theres 6 year groups at my school cos high school is 7-12 where i live) but some people know me ig cos i know a few girl who are more notable, im in the top class and i recdntly started sitting with a group that the popular girls call furries.

(theyre a pretty big group and popular girls hate them cos one or two of them are trans - ftm, ftnb etc, no mtf cos my lovely/s catholic school wouldnt let trans girls in- several of them are gay, a few of them are emo, most of them are poc's and a few of them dont have english as their first language. overall they are seen as the "weird kids" in my year)

so this rumour apparently is going around that i like a girl in my class(i absolutely do but if you havent noticed my school is hella hoomophobic and i could very well get beat) which js isnt ideal and is gonna lead to a lot of issues, especially if a lot of people start believing it so if you guys have any advice pls lmk. and its not like i can js get a fake bf and show him off cos its a GIRLS SCHOOL. if i reconnect with a friend from primary school tho we could pretend to be dating and like make a post on social media. but then kids at his school would find out and hed either have to tell them its fake(which would eventually find its way back to my school, and when i say eventually i mean immediately) or he couldnt get a girlfriend so that probs wouldnt work.

i know it sounds like im making a mountain out of a molehill but ive got years to go here and i dont want to spend all my high school years getting bullied bc even if i went to a teacher about it or smthing id have to like analyse them first and try to figure out which ones are homophobic or not.

like learning about why "being gay is a sin"(pretend im saying that really mockingly) is literally in our curriculum.

holy shit that was longer than expected.

no pressure tags: @wishiwereheather13 @loserboyfriendrjl @fracturedsunsets @chasingthemoony @stars-and-leather @starsofleo

thats all im doing idk how you guys can stand js copy and pasting moots over and over i cant do this i did the first six that came up and that seems like enough 🤷‍♀️

begun doing

going to do

finished

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

00.1. the first time you saw quinn hughes.

➴ warnings: mentions of shitty family.

➴ word count: 1.08k

➴ author’s note: this has been sitting on my drafts for days because i wasn’t brave enough to post it. but this story is very important to me and i promised myself i’d stop doubting what i write and just go for it. i hope with all my heart u guys like this ♡

౨ৎ

2013, SEPTEMBER.

THE first time you saw Quinn Hughes you were eleven years old.

Your family had just bought the house next to his, a beautiful four bedroom house with lots of space and a beautiful backyard— the perfect house for a family of four.

It was a week after you all settled in, your Dad as a Sports Medicine Physician working for a Hockey Canadian team, the Toronto Maple Leafs— the whole reason why you moved in the first place— your Mom as a Editor-in-Chief for the Fashion magazine, one of Canada's leading fashion publications, featuring content related to fashion, beauty, culture, and modeling and your brother, Peter, in High School as a freshman.

You were sitting on your porch, while you waited for Peter to be back so you could convince him to play football with you. He always said no, but you didn't give up. A few minutes later, Peter got out of your neighbor’s house, alongside another boy, who was slightly shorter than Peter.

You watched as they both walked towards your house, talking about something you couldn’t hear. You remember being so enamored with the sight of the boy that you couldn’t stop fidgeting your hands.

They stopped right in front of you, and while Peter was ready to ignore you and move on with his day— he’d been doing that more and more since he started High School— the other boy stopped and looked right at you.

“You didn’t tell me you have a sister.” The boy said, looking at your brother for a second before turning back at you.

“Oh, yeah,” Peter shrugged. “That’s Madison. She’s ten.”

“I’m eleven,” you corrected, voice soft and quiet.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, grabbing his keys so he could open the front door.

“Can you play with me now?” You asked, getting up from your seat, finally noticing how tall this other boy was. “I have the ball with me already.” You pointed at the ball that sat on the same couch you were also sitting not a minute ago.

“No, Madison. I’m with Quinn now.” Peter said, pointing at the boy beside him, who was now frowning at your brother.

Quinn. That’s a funny name, you remember thinking.

“We can play with her, I don’t mind—” the boy, Quinn, said, already reaching for the ball.

“Nah, bro. She’s annoying as hell. Once you pick that ball up, you won’t be able to let it go for like, three hours.” Peter replied, already opening the door.

You felt yourself tearing up and even though you hated crying in front of your brother, you couldn’t help it. Growing up, he was your best friend. Your hero even, when your parents decided that arguing during dinner, in front of their children, was a nice thing to do and he would make funny faces at you across the table just so you could laugh. When he pretended to yell at the monster under your bed or when he let you paint his nails with your pink nail polish.

But somewhere between turning fifteen and entering High School, he changed. And you hated every inch of this new Peter Carter.

He entered the house, shouting something, probably announcing to your mom that he was home. And you stood there, looking at your hands.

“Next time, I’ll play with you, okay?” Quinn, who was still standing in front of you, hesitated, looking as devastated as ever.

You felt embarrassed and you got out of there as fast as you could, running back inside and nestling yourself between your covers and plushies.

౨ৎ

YOU didn’t think Quinn had meant what he had said the other day, so you were surprised to see that he showed up the next morning, when both of your parents were at work and Peter was asleep in his bedroom upstairs.

“Hey,” he greeted you, stepping on your backyard patio and looking around. “Nice place you got here. We can play for a long time without risking throwing the ball in Mrs. Wright window.”

You giggled, remembering Mrs. Wright's funny wig.

“I’m Quinn Hughes.” He introduced himself after a while.

“I know that,” you whispered, watching as he laughed. “How old are you?”

“I’m thirteen, but I turn fourteen on October 14th,” he said. “You’re eleven, right?”

“Yes. My birthday was in May. I got this ball,” you raised the ball you were holding so he could see it better. It had your name on it. “And I also got new clothes for my plushies.”

“That sounds nice,” he nodded. “I’ll probably get a new stick on my birthday.”

“Why would you need a stick?” You asked, not sure what he could do with a stick. A tree’s stick. At least that’s what you thought a stick was.

Maybe he wants to put it on his fireplace.

“I play Hockey,” he answered and you still didn’t understand. The only thing you knew about Hockey was that it was the reason you and your family moved to Toronto. So it probably wasn’t a good thing. “And I need a new one.”

“Well, if it makes you happy, then I guess it’s fine,” you shrugged, poking your ball. “But that will probably be boring. You should ask for something cooler.”

He laughed again, sitting on the grass beside you. “I’ll think about that. Thank you for your advice.”

You puffed your chest a little, happy to feel useful for once.

That morning, you and Quinn didn’t end up playing; instead, you talked for hours, with you both asking each other questions about literally everything. From what’s your favorite color to what you wanna be when you grow up.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest every time you stared into his blue eyes that sometimes morphed into a light green shade, but you didn’t understand why. Quinn was being nice, he was treating you just like Peter did before you moved to Toronto and it felt so, so nice.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You asked, right before he left for lunch at his house.

“I think so.” He smiled, quickly patting you on the head. He gave you a short wave before moving back to his home.

And you just stood there, counting the seconds so that maybe tomorrow would come faster, and you’d finally have a friend again.

[slut4menig]

Guys my age

Paring: Luke Castellan x Curvy AphroditeFem! reader

Req: hii can you please write a prompt in which Luke is 19 and reader is 16 and he thinks the age gap is too much as doesn’t see her as anything more than the kid he is counselling, but she’s an Aphrodite child so she doesn’t mind the chase, you can make it smut or not iyw!! also do you maybe mind making the reader like chubby/curvy? i love your work!! 🫶🫶 - 💜 Anon

ofc u can be!!! also omg i actually kinda hate this but whatever… hope u enjoy!

Warnings: MDNI, big age gap, cursing, drinking, use of smoking, reader implied to be curvy

Luke Castellan, a 19-year-old at the infamous Camp Half-Blood, stood tall and pretty almost like a loyal dog, and that made it near impossible for anyone to resist his charm, he’d had a go at almost all of the girls at camp half-blood, including all of my beautiful half sisters.

His unruly curly brown hair framed his handsome face, and deep brown eyes, which seemed to look straight into my soul whenever he gave me a task, even something as simple as asking to clean my dorm, held a hint of mystery. A small scar on his upper cheek added an intriguing touch to his otherwise perfect appearance. Luke is the epitome of a golden boy, capturing the hearts and attention of girls of all ages, young and old.

I’m only 16, luke had never dare even batted an eye at me last year but this year, I came back to camp, determined for a chance to stare into those beautiful eyes and have it mean something for him too. Since last year, i’d started to… well develop. My body had formed into a nicer shape, i certainly grew into myself. My chest was definitely a lot bigger, I started using normal bras, no more training ones. My thighs were thick and beautiful, something many men wished to be suffocated with.

“hey gorgeous girl, you’ve certainly grown up” My half sister Silene winked at me, I only ever see her at camp and I was packing my stuff into my bed. I rolled my eyes and huffed at her.

“Silene seriously? i haven’t seen you in a year and that’s the best you’ve got?” I immediately hug the girl as she chuckles quite a bit at my sharp tongue, we all start talking to our other half siblings and that’s when one of them goes

“hey y/n, you do realise you’re now technically old enough to be going to the bonfire party?” my half sister smirked

The bonfire party was tradition, 16 and up campers, it involved heavy amounts of marijuana, alcohol and other illegal shit. It was an excuse for people to get drunk and hook up and deeply regret it the next morning or so i’ve heard. It’s almost like a “back to school” party but instead it’s back to camp. It happens on the one night that Chiron is away and Mr D is in charge, of course, you bribe him with some alcohol and suddenly everyone’s happy.

“yeah uhh i’ll go, we should start getting ready then i guess?” i say, a bit on edge of what’s about to happen.

As i’m getting ready, i’m being handed a black lacy corset top showing off my double d tits extremely well, i look in the mirror and smirk, this is one of those times i KNOW i looks good. I wore a mini skirt along with it, sure i looked like a slut but hey? what can you do?

I enter the Bonfire, the glow of the fire casually illuminating my face in a perfect light. In hand was a red solo cup with… tequila and some other concoction i’ve been handed, i take a sip and spot him. Luke Castellan, my camp counsellor and the man I was practically already on my knees for. He made his way over to me and looked me in the eyes.

“Y/n? wow you look… grown up” His eyes clearly wandered around my tits a lot more than they should’ve, and he almost looked as if he scolded his self for looking but i wanted him to, this whole outfit was for him

“oh yeah? in what way?” i smirked and slightly tilted my head, trying to seduce the boy infront of me

He cleared his throat and came back to eye contact “You’re uh.. you’re taller” no i wasn’t, it was a blatant lie, i hadn’t grown an inch over the year, i knew what he was talking about and smiled to myself about it.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Luke and I both turn our heads to a very drunken silene who’s perched up on the table, some guy with his arms wrapped around her waist and mouth colliding with her jaw.

And who was anyone to say no to my beautiful sister? Soon everyone found themselves sitting in this circle, bottles of Tequila, Vodka, Whiskey, Jäger and other liquors in the middle of the circle, ready to be there for whoever backed down from a dare.

“Clarisse, truth or dare” An Apollo girl slurred, looking into clarisses eyes from across rhe circle. Clarisse smirked and in return took a sip of her drink.

“Dare” It wasn’t surprising, her choosing dare.

“I dare you, to kiss me” the apollo girl smirked at clarisse, they obviously had tension and clarisse made her way over and kissed her, passionately i might add. The entire circle cheered and cheered.

Clarisse suddenly averted her gaze to me, we’d been friends for a while now whenever I hung out with silene she would be there.

“y/n, truth or dare?” I felt myself nervously stare at her, a group of maybe 25 people waiting on my reply to this one simple question she’d asked. It wasn’t that hard of a question so i gave a simple answer.

“Dare” I wanted to play it safe, truth was too much for me right now, I knew it would end up in me having to tell a huge secret and I just wanted a casual night, nothing too crazy, which was why i was baffled as to what came out of Clarisses mouth next.

“I dare you to spend 7 minutes of heaven with the person you think is the hottest, and don’t try bullshit your way out of this lovebug” Clarisse was obviously feeling happy with herself, she was tipsy as one could be. Actually no, she was just shitfaced.

I felt my body begin to grow weak and i scanned my eyes across the room, except i found one thing. No matter how hard I looked around the room, my eyes were always drawn back to Luke castellan. The man himself.

“uhh luke…” I said, everyone cheered and Luke looked at me a bit confused as to why I’d chosen him. Nevertheless we walked into a secluded spot in the woods.

“Y/n I uh… why’d you pick me?” Luke looked at me as he leaned against a tree and i stood there looking up at him

“why not, they said to pick the hottest person there” I shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant.

“You do realise you’re far too young for me, sweetheart?” Luke muttered at me in a deepish voice.

“I know but what did three years ever do to anyone?” I smirked, it was time for me to use the powers my mother gave me and capture this boys beautiful heart.

“Y/n i- i was- no! still am, your camp counsellor, you don’t think this is a little weird? you coming onto me.. I mean, you’re hot but” Luke said conflicted with his own thoughts at this point.

“Oh would you shut up castellan I saw you looking at my tits earlier, don’t act like you’re surprised i’m coming onto you” I smirked at him, giving him doe eyes and fluttering my lashes

“you’re such a brat, you know that? you need to shut up, it will get you killed someday, that pretty mouth of yours” Luke furrowed his brows and almost scolded me

“how about you make me shut up?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered this seductively into his ear.

“oh I can think of a few ways” Suddenly I felt Luke’s warm tongue slip into my mouth, his deep kiss sending sparks to my pussy.

he pushes me against a tree, his hands roaming over my body possessively. “Fuck, you're so young and pretty, tell me, you ever fucked anyone?” Luke continued to say as he slipped his hands to the back bit of my corset top

“n-no, i’m all yours” i managed to breathe out, goosebumps trailing over my body from his cold hands unclasing my top.

His hands reach under my bra, feeling my soft skin. He leans in, kissing my neck, my collarbone, as his hands grope my breasts. His hot breath against my skin sends shivers down my spine. “that’s perfect pretty girl, let me take care of you okay?” luke then continued to kiss my forehead and unclasp my bra

He looks up at me, his eyes filled with desire. "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now," he says, his voice low and husky. He starts to slip his hand up my mini skirt, his hands shaking slightly. “I bet your pussy is so tight and wet...”

i groan at his words, whimpering at the boys touch. “I- do it…”

“I can’t, I can’t ruin something as perfectly innocent as you” Luke looked at me in the eyes, piercing me with his gaze

“i’m less innocent than you think you know” I trailed my hands to unbutton his jeans and i watch his eyes widen

“what did you lie on your book log in elementary school?” he chuckled trying to distract himself from his hard on being revealed

“yknow i hump my pillow most nights wishing it was your dick” i whispered in his ear, i could feel the head flush on his face as his erection was poking into my thigh.

“fuck… pretty girl… that’s so hot, i wanna fuck you senseless, show you what a man is” he collided his lips to my collarbone and sloppily kissed it, his hands making his way to my soaked panties, rubbing it through them

“all soaked for me, pretty?” he looked up at me as i nodded, biting my lip to hold back a moan. I felt him slide my underwear off and crouch down, i felt the warmth of his hot breath against my sticky wet pussy, his tongue beginning to lap it, finding my clit and sucking on it with a pop.

I became a moaning mess, begging for mercy and for luke to continue fucking my hole with his tongue just the way he did. “mmmph~”

His hands spread my thighs wider apart as his mouth works its magic. His tongue swirls around my wet, throbbing flesh, sucking and licking with expertise. I can't help but moan loudly, my fingers tangling in his hair to pull him even closer. “Luke... please...”

He can feel my body shaking with need as he continues to eat me out, his own arousal growing with each moan that escapes my lips. He sucks my clit hard, his fingers sliding inside me, curves up to rub against my G-spot. “Come for me, baby...”

His fingers pump in and out of me in a rhythm that matches his tongue on my swollen bud. The sensations overwhelm me, and I dig my heels into his back, shamelessly bucking against his face as I shatter, screaming out his name. “Luke...Luke...”

As I reach my peak, something inside me breaks. I convulse hard, and suddenly, a rush of liquid gushes out of me, drenching Luke's face. He moans approvingly, lapping up every drop like a thirsty man.

I become red from embarrassment and stare at the man in horror.. “oh my god luke did i- did i just pee on you?” Luke did nothing but grin at me, his wet face glistening in the moonlight

“No baby, it’s called squirting and it was the hottest thing ever” he grabbed my hands away from my face

After cleaning me up with his tongue, Luke gently lifts my legs over his shoulders, positioning himself at my entrance. He looks into my eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and tenderness. “Okay, beautiful girl, this is going to hurt, but I'll be gentle”

I look up at him, tears welling in my eyes. He smiles softly, "Good girl. It'll start feeling good soon, I promise." He leans down to kiss me, his hips pulling back slightly before pushing in again, deeper this time.

As he continues to move in and out of me, his pace picking up slightly, Luke leans down to take one of my hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. His thumb finds my swollen bud, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. "Luke... oh god, Luke..."

I cry out as my orgasm hits, my vision blurring, my body trembling. Luke doesn't stop, fucking me through my climax, his own need evident in his face. "Fuck, pretty girl, you're so fucking tight right now. I can feel your little pussy squeezing me."

As he thrusts into me, his pace becomes erratic, his breathing heavy. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, Y/n. I don't know where to put it all," he groans, his eyes wild with need. "Where do you want it, huh?"

I gave Luke those oh so beautifully innocent doe eyes he’s currently corrupting, i batter my eyelashes and whimper as i speak

“I want you to do it inside of me luke” Luke’s eyes widen at the prospect but doesn’t have time and gives in.

“You’re lucky i can’t say no to those beautiful eyes of yours baby” With a low growl, Luke buries his face in my neck, his body convulsing as he spills inside me. He jerks his hips against me several times, unloading more and more of his warmth into my inexperienced core. "Oh gods."

He pulls out and we both lay there breathlessly.

“that was a lot more than 7 minutes…” i whisper sheepishly as i catch my breath and put my clothes on

“i’m sorry i had to be your first time… you do know we can’t be together right? i mean you should really be with a guy your age?” Luke refused to look in my eyes as he slipped his boxers on

“but guys my age aren’t… you”

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

why are law of assumption women on tumblr so defensive and fragile? i wasn't trying to harm you. i just hoped you can say something beautiful and poetic to help me feel like i deserve my desires even tho others worked 20 years for success

Warning: A Rant + plus if you don't like what i said just scroll down buddy:

Well i'll excuse myself if i offended you, cause some anons just Comes at me and sending hateful Asks or don't believe in loa (and please stop saying mean words about everyone, be grateful that i'm answering your ask).

Anyways, many people, no BILLIONS OF PEOPLE around the World don't know the existence of Law of assumption.

So you should consider yourself lucky that you discovered the cheat code to life.

We were taught since we were young that for achieving something or deserving something we need to work hard, so you'll start noticing that many people that discover loa will have difficulties manifesting their desires, why? Because they still have this lingering thought and feelings that they should work hard to deserve it or consider loa too good to be true that it is easy and simple.

Everyone deserve success and a better life, no one deserve horrible circumstances, being poor, being Homeless, having abusive parents and partners.

You deserve every single thing that exist in this entire universe.

We were born to learn, explore, have a better life and many more.

You don't need a degree to be a millionnaire.

You don't need money to have a car.

You don't need to be perfect and pretty to be with your SP.

You don't need to be a good student to get accepted to your desired university/college.

You have this power at the palms of your hand, use it and you'll be the happiest person alive.

Decide your desire+ affirm + persist.

That all you need to do.

Now for the part where you said that people wasted so much time working for 30 years to have what they want, well sadly these people doesn't know the existence of LOA.

This life is not supposed to be a burden, it is supposed to be easy, but sadly the society kept feeding us that WE can't have that and that without working hard for it.

I feel so Bad about those who have commited suicide and they didn't know there was too much to life.

But don't you DARE Say that these people who have Dreams to achieve are pick me or lazy, you don't know them and you don't know what happening to them behind their blogs/account.

If you don't like what i said, you're free to leave.

No one, literally NO ONE is forcing you to believe in loa.

If you think it is unfair well that is your belief and your opinion.

But i'm just here to tell you that you deserve every fucking desire you want to have, that include wealth, happiness and health, even the most illogical things.

I Hope you realize that there's more to life.

Xoxo, Eli