#nothing is wrong really I'm just a little overwhelmed

[undead-potatoes]

I think disappearing into the forest for a few days could fix me actually

[icewindandboringhorror]

... why he sit like this

[da-proti-toku-grem]

why can't anyone understand that everyone is different and not everyone likes the same things and that it's completely okay AND normal for someone not to like going out and preferring to stay at home :/

[simonghostrileys]

.

[cntloup]

Fem!Reader angst, hurt/comfort, mention of miscarriage

"I might be pregnant." you mumble nervously to your husband, fidgeting with your fingers and avoiding his gaze. You didn't get your period and you've been sick every morning the past week. "Dove, did you check to make sure?" Simon asks, starting to feel excited but the heavy weight on his chest doesn't let him. "No, we don't have any baby checks." you reply, head still hanging low, "I-I'll g-go to the drugstore now." he stutters, excitement mixed with gloom, not really knowing how to feel, "Are you gonna be ok while I'm gone?" he asks with worry, "Yeah." you reply weakly. He places a kiss on your forehead, nuzzling the soft skin of your cheeks, his touch lingering, "I'll be ok, Si." you reassure him. He leans in to kiss you, eyes filled with concern locked onto yours for a moment before heading out the door.

The moment he walks out, you see the dark clouds looming over you and feel the familiar tingle in the back of your eyes. Soon after, you break into sobs, overwhelmed by all the emotions prancing around and shifting through you. You've been trying to have a baby for a while now, but unfortunately fate had something else in store for you. You've already gone through two miscarriages. You thought that life was playing a sick, twisted game with you. The wish to have a child and not being able to fulfill that, had your mental health in shambles. But he was beside you every step of the way. He held you tightly in his embrace as you sobbed your heart out. He reassured you that it's ok if you can never have children. He was your rock. Always. But you still felt it deep in your heart that there might be something wrong with you. And that led you to always feel this little tingle of guilt inside and blame yourself. But he would always put an end to that thought at the mere mention of it. It was not your fault. You felt guilty about putting him through all of this. And him not being able to grieve properly because he has to stay strong for you. You felt as though you were failing him.

All of a sudden, there's a buzzing in your ear and your vision is blurry and you struggle to breathe. As soon as he walks through the door and sets eyes on you bawling uncontrollably and gasping for air, he rushes to your side. "Hey, hey, it's ok, love. Just breathe. Like this." he tries to get your attention, taking deep breaths for you to imitate. You focus on the movements of his lips and chest, finally able to get some air in your lungs. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly against him and sways side to side to soothe you, "Shh, lovie. It's ok. I'm right here. You're ok." he coos softly against your temple, placing loving kisses on your skin.

"Simon..." you call out to him, voice weak and shaky. "Yes, love?" he pulls away slightly, his gaze soft and filled with worry. He tucks your hair behind your ear, placing his hand on your cheek, softly wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb, "Is there something wrong with me?" you pout, lips quivering and holding back sobs. He's taken aback, "No, lovie. There's nothing wrong with you. It's just something that happens. It's not your fault." he pauses to take a look at you, his beautiful wife, woeful and suffering. His heart aches at this sight of you and tears start to well up in his eyes, "We'll get through this. I promise. If we can't have a child ourselves, we can always adopt." he adds, kind eyes looking into your tear-filled ones. He tries to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, and when you look up at him with a smile, he knows he succeeded, at least to some extent. There's still sorrow in your eyes. You will always grieve the loss of your children. Nothing can erase that. "Yeah, sure! We'll adopt." your smile begins to get wider as you wipe away the tears. "Yeah?" he grins, gently cupping your face in his hands, "Yeah!" you nod, giggling. He stares into your eyes with pure love, leans in and places his lips on yours, kissing you tenderly. "I love you." he murmurs into the kiss, "I love you too, Si."

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

[feyascorner]

okay first of all i ADORE ur writing… wanna take a bite out of it..

anyway… uh… can i uhh… order a uhh…. astarion x tav.. and like..tav has a fucking insane pain tolerance and always has.. and like… uhh… one time she gets fucking TOTALED in a fight and like obvi it would hurt… and shes like crying subconsciously.. and when some1 points it out shes like “what???? why am i crying wtf???” and like looks down and is just fucking BLEEDING… n then.. astarion comfort…

only if u want thoo!!!!

a/n. Im like the exact opposite I'm very dramatic about the slightest pain but this is such a cute request so Ty!! ALSO PLS EXCUSE IF THIS IS A LITTLE CLUNKY I HAD TO TYPE THIS OUT W MY FINGERS🫠🫠

Astarion is grateful for your tolerance to pain.

Of course, he doesn't particularly enjoy watching you in pain, but he’s no fool. He knows the sting and the soreness that comes after he drinks from your neck. Well, at least, it should sting. However, it never seemed to bother you, and for that, he's forever grateful for it.

These strange sentiments expand past his thirst for blood, as the relief he feels when you’re battered up after a battle and you smile at him as if nothing’s wrong is incomparable to any other feeling he’s felt.

That relief does not come currently, however.

The battle was nearly hopeless. Overwhelmed in number, mages casting counterspell, fighters constantly aiming at you…he’s lost track of it all. By some miracle you and your companions stand victorious, and when he sees that you offer Karlach a lopsided smile, confirming that you're fine, he reaches to pick up one of his daggers.

“Tav—what in the hells, are you okay?”

It’s then that he spots the way your lip quivers and tears glisten threateningly at your eyes. And when you meet his own, they begin to drip down your cheeks like crystals and roll off your chin. He's seen you in tears before, but out of something more positive—not from pain. Before he can even tell what he's doing, he's rushing toward you.

“Why are you—” he sees the blood seeping from your stomach, and his face would've gone pale if he could.

You finally lift your hands to your face, eyes wide when your fingertips brush against the dampness of your cheeks. “Oh. Why am I?…”

Shadowheart scrambles to scrimmage around her bag. “Here, let me—gods, where did I—did we use all the healing potions?—”

“Oh for hells sake. Because you're bleeding!” Astarion hisses, his hand intertwining with yours as he drags you toward the nearest tree where he sits you down. He freezes when you flinch but you shake your head, wiping at your eyes. Your other companions are still searching the enemy corpses for anything that might relieve you of the pain, but they're taking far too long for his liking.

“I’m okay, it doesn't really hurt that much.”

“You’re crying.”

“I didn't even know I was-” you wince.

His eyes narrow. “Lay down.”

“What? No, I’m really fine!”

“Gods, love, please for once, listen to me. It’s quite straining to watch you clamber around with that ghastly wound on your stomach.”

You frown, but he guides you down anyway, careful to lay down your head against the grass. “Now wait patiently. Maybe if we’re lucky, our dear friends will find a potion before I start developing wrinkles.”

A momentary silence hangs in the air. It’s by no means uncomfortable, but there are words on the tip of his tongue he wishes to say. And when he notices you staring, he sighs.

“If you're hurt, tell us. I don't care how high your pain tolerance is—if you're hurt, call us. Call me. Don't be a fool and bleed out over a few enemies when we’ve been through so much worse.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost embarrassing. But with the way you're watching him so seriously, he can't bring himself to dwell on such irrelevant factors.

Then, you smile again, as if you've forgotten about the pain. “How minor can the pain be for me to call you?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Can I call you when I stub a toe?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I will.”

He stares at you with lidded eyes and you laugh. He feels the weight on his shoulders get a bit lighter.

“You may call for me whenever you wish.”

[headspace-hotel]

i'm...thinking about writing a book?

I mean. I feel really silly at the thought because i'm not like a scientist or anything, i'm barely at the beginning of my knowledge journey, but...being a writer was what I always wanted to do. It's what I've been doing ever since I could remember. And I'm constantly, constantly just so full of things that I want to tell the whole world. I will have a realization or idea and think, oh my god. Everyone needs to know this. But I can't tell everyone. I'm not good at talking.

I'm good at writing. But I will sit down to write a post on my silly little blog and get so overwhelmed by the SCALE of everything I want to say.

I think I've already started to write a book. I think the space for these ideas to fill is already the size of a book and it will never have any smaller of a size, and no one else will come along to write the book, and no one else CAN write the book, and IT HAS TO BE WRITTEN.

I want to write about the ways of the plants, of course. I want to teach how to transplant and how to gather seeds and the properties of keystone species...but more importantly, I want to write about how to learn the ways of the plants. I want to promote the habit of insatiable curiosity and intense observation. I want to show everyone that everything everywhere is infinitely interesting and mysterious, and if you pay attention to the plants, they will teach you.

I want to write about Symbiosis. I want to write about how we are connected to every other thing, how we have our own ecological niche as Caretakers, and our own special adaptations of curiosity and love. I want to write about how the ecosystem needs us to participate in it, not to cut ourselves off from it, and how our powerful influence on ecosystems can be for good or for bad. We are not a disease. We are a Keystone Species.

I want to discourage this Euro-centric idea that sees humans as separate, and recommend more reading from indigenous points of view that understands ecosystems better and sees humans as participants in nature, engaging in a reciprocal symbiotic relationship. I want to speak against all this talk about removing humans from half of the Earth or reducing the human population, and show other people that despair and fear make you paralyzed and powerless, but hope is powerful.

The most important and powerful thing you can do for your ecosystem is to love it. It is necessary to have hope for the future—to learn to imagine a future of restoration and renewal, and to build community with other people working toward that future.

If we don't imagine a future for our ecosystems, imagine them boldly and audaciously in ways that feel crazy and impossible, those futures will not happen. But just the act of saying, "This WILL happen. We WILL be okay." gives you the strength and energy to fight and it gives you the creativity to come up with solutions you never could have thought of before.

And I feel I have to explain, how did I end up listening to plants? And how did the teachings become so important that I had to write about them? There's this black, swallowing abyss underpinning all of who I am, some intimation of a reality so terrible the human spirit breaks beneath it. I had a mental health crisis back in 2021 where I was pulled deep into that abyss, and when I started rescuing little plants and caring for them, I was basically re-learning how to be human.

I feel like I was seeking answers to "How am I supposed to live in this world?" in the natural world because the human world of poetry and books and articles and think-pieces had utterly failed me in that regard. I had taken multiple poetry classes where I had read all the best contemporary poems, and all the poets just wrote flat, plodding, blunt descriptions of their trauma and despair. Nothing is wrong with these topics, but the worst part was how these authors didn't even take themselves seriously; they had to be detached and ironic about their own pain, like a snarky dystopian novel hero who jokes casually about the horrific reality they live in so the reader knows that this reality is normal and unremarkable to them—and even more importantly, that the hero is ironic and cool instead of responding in a vulnerable, human way.

And speaking of dystopian novels...there were a lot of those! It was like all the visions of the future I had read were dystopian. Even I had been writing a dystopian novel. But I realized that I wasn't wise enough to tell that story yet. I didn't know why at first. But then, as I was reading everything people were writing about climate change, I began to realize.

I saw a lot of patterns between the way people wrote about climate change and the tendencies of self-harm and self-defeat that gnawed inside me. Suicide was something that I had never struggled against, but I understood that suicide was only the most striking manifestation of a self-annihilating way. Sometimes you feel like by hurting yourself, you are being transgressive, exercising autonomy against an absolute, crushing reality. It doesn't have to be physical hurt; it can just be deciding no one will like you and denying yourself love, or thinking "Well, there's no use hoping for anything good to happen."

This is how people talk about climate change. They fantasize about extreme, horrific scenarios and talk as if the Earth is already dead and destroyed, and they talk about humans hatefully and as if they were a disease, and then congratulate themselves for seeing how bad it REALLY is instead of being in denial. It is easy for people to get attached to this and even get mad when someone suggests there might be hope, simply because self-harm can be very psychologically reinforcing.

It is common to call these responses "climate grief." But as I came into this very simple and quiet yet profound encounter with Nature, she had an answer to this philosophy that was perfectly gentle and placid and yet caustic enough to strip paint:

"HOW CAN YOU WISH FOR THE STRENGTH TO GRIEVE THE EARTH, WHEN YOU WERE NEVER STRONG ENOUGH TO LOVE IT?"

I realized, with a breaking heart, that I had always hated and resented my back yard and my home town, because it was an ugly place that seemed to me "Already destroyed," and my soul ached for woods and wilderness.

It had taken me 20 years to fully admit my love of nature, because I felt like there was no point in acting upon it—everything would get destroyed anyway.

I had not been brave enough to love the woods across the road, the creeks and the hills, because they were so fragile in a world that didn't respect them, they could be destroyed by some housing development at any time. So I just accepted that it was already a lost cause.

But it was time to be brave enough—not to accept despair, but to choose hope.

To grow up, first we had to become strong and get rid of silly beliefs like hope and fairness and love. But now, we have to become even stronger and start believing in those things again.

[frogchiro]

HELLO LOVELIES!! due to popular demand I present to you this, a kinda 2 part to this baby. I wanted to thank you for the overwhelming love that little brain rot got so I'm writing something extra ^^ While this may not be a direct continuation it's set in the exact same universe and everything so you can read is as a stand alone another part of perverted nasty Ghost (and a guest!) or a continuation of other nasty shenanigans that Si would do to his little hacker girl :(

fem!reader, nsfw, nasty perv Ghost and a special guest, can be read as kinda dark? nothing hardcore it's just implied that Simon is terribly possessive bordering on obsessed and he has dark-ish tendencies so be careful!

That being said, nasty perv Ghost who's almost buzzing with barely repressed anger, almost snarling, teeth baring beneath his mask. He's standing on the sidelines of the mattress laid out on the gym floor as he watches Price go at you almost like a wild animal, grabbing and tossing you around like you're a rag doll, ultimately pinning you down to the floor with his massive body with your hand behind your back and laid out on your tummy, all tired out and panting with Price leaning down to your ear and growling something to you that made you let out a pathetic keen.

Simon didn't hear what the captain said to you but judging by your facial expression it must have been something suggestive; nasty and perverted and delivered in that deep growly rumble of Price's voice.

The blonde man knew that this whole 'compulsory hand to hand combat training' was a load of bullshit, it always was. It was organized a few times a year when the higher ups insisted and there was no way out. It was usually terribly boring, just a load of loud and sweaty men tumbling like beasts while screaming at each other and a few hot-shots who showed of like peacocks.

Except that this time there was a new addition to this mess, little old you. The new hacker of 141, the young lady who always dressed nicely, nails always manicured and smelling oh so deliciously with your perfumes. Since you're technically not a soldier Ghost thought that you'd be spared from the training but apparently he was very wrong and he hated it. He could see how flustered you were earlier, how small and soft you were in the presence of all these big hardened soldiers. He could see that you were nervous and he didn't exactly blame you therefore he decided that he would be the perfect match for you for training; it would be a win win situation!

He'd treat you as gently as he could so you wouldn't have bruises and aches from a rough treatment, and him on the other hand would have jerk off material for the next month. He could almost taste it, taste you. How he'd press you against him, how his big scarred hands would be able to run over your soft body all he wanted under the guise of training. How his big sweaty body would rub against you, his musk rubbing off on you and making you smell like him, like Ghost; a primal way of marking you. How he'd listen to all you little whines and mewls when he'd grab you too roughly and how you'd be able to feel his hard cock press against your ass as he mounted you from behind to press you into the exact position as you were now. Except it wasn't him who had you caged in his grip, it was fucking Price.

That fucker snatched you right from under his nose. Literally. Simon was just about to go up to you when suddenly Price appeared seemingly out of thin air and swooped it to basically tell you that you're gonna be his sparing partner, not even asking, he was stating a fact and since he was your captain you couldn't really say no right? :(

As John was leading you away from a growling Simon he could swear that the older man turned slightly to him and gave him a smug look that said 'better luck next time son, she's mine' and what made his teeth grit even more that he could perfectly hear these words in John's smooth growly drawl.

He's very well aware that Price has the hots for you, that dirty old pervert. He caught him looking at you more than once now, his gray blue eyes following you like a predator watching his prey, how whenever you stopped by his office to deliver some new intel or paperwork Price's voice suddenly dropped a few octaves into a deep, hot and enticing drawl that made you stutter and goosebumps appear on your skin. Also Simon heard Price going at it in his office, jerking off or doing god knows what and growling your name, or the occasional pair of your (stolen) panties peeking out from a drawer, the delicate pink material stained white with John's seed. His naturally possessive character getting amped up whenever you're with them on a mission or even in the same vicinity, any soldier who has the balls to talk or even flirt with you getting swiftly removed and ordered to run 30 laps around training grounds.

And now Ghost lost to that old perverted fuck and he will have to endure his smug commentary about how nice your soft body felt under him, how your delicious ass pressed against his cock and how you whimpered in confusion as you felt your captain grind against you and growl into your ear to 'be a good girl and get a feel of your captain, feel what will be breeding you later' and you couldn't help but whine and wiggle around a bit, you were so hot and so embarrassed, pinned under your captain with all those men watching you with heavy eyes :((

You soon stopped your wiggling and just laid there under the heavy man, his panting and growls rumbling against your back as you got a bit intoxicated on his heavy musky scent, pure masculinity and dominance oozing out of him and rubbing off on you.

You started to wonder if he'd truly keep his promise up and take you with him later, lock you in his bedroom and ravish you, breed you good with his babies :(

[christhopersturniolo]

୨ MY LITTLE SISTER ୧ matt

summary: you had some plans with your boyfriend matt for the weekend, but something unexpected happens, and you have to babysit your little sister.

notes: this is my second time ever writing a fanfic (go read my first one) and english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, but I hope you enjoy it! all ears to feedbacks, l'd love to know what you think!

warnings: cussing, fluff

୨୧

I sigh “And why can’t you take her with you?” I say taking my eyes out of the screen and looking at my mom.

“How long will it take for you to understand that your dad is on a business trip and i’m going on one as well?” She answers walking from a side to another, packing some of her things. “I can’t take her with me, even if I wanted to.”

"But mom-" I start, only to be cut off.

"No buts, Y/n.” She interrupts, her tone firm. “I’m being serious." She looks straight into my eyes "It's what I'm telling you, you'll have to stay with your sister. I won't be paying for a babysitter while you're here with your ass in the couch. You are almost 18, you can very well take care of her, it’s only for the weekend.”

“But I told you I have plans with Matt!” I exclaim, leaning my head back on the headrest of the couch in annoyance.

My mom is about to reply when we hear the sound of my 3 year old little sister's footsteps coming from her room, followed by her little giggles.

We automatically get silent about this topic. I take a deep breath, reminding myself she's not the problem, she's just a child caught up in our adult issues. Bella is not the problem.

Don't get me wrong, I do love my sister, but it's a bit overwhelming to adjust having a sibling after being the only child for years. And with my mom's age, it's unexpected, to say the least.

SKIP TIME

Today is the day that my mom is going to her ‘super important business trip’, and also the day Im supposed to have a date with Matt.

After my mother left at 7am, Bella and I found ourselves up earlier than usual. We already had breakfast, so now, we don’t really have anything to do. We go to the living room, watch some TV.

Bella sits on the couch next to me and chooses the channel. After some good ten minutes, I look at my right to check on her, and she’s completely asleep, what makes me smile.

Until I realize that I didn’t canceled my dinner with Matt.

Shit, I completely forgot to talk with Matt! Fuck!

I get up and I go over to my bedroom, getting my phone and calling him. He takes some seconds to answer the call.

“Babe? Sorry, did I wake you up?” I ask, hoping the answer would be ‘no’.

“No, No, No..” He says with his husky morning voice, he definitely just woke up. “But why are you calling this early? Is something wrong?” I could feel myself getting fucking soaked as he talks, sorry, but his voice in the morning? I can’t take it.

I take a deep breath, trying to think straight. "Um, yeah.. Actually, my mom went out for the weekend, and I have to babysit my sister.. I don't know if I'll be able to make it to the dinner we had planned tonight”

“Oh” A simple response, What does that even mean? He probably hates me now.

"I know you already made the reservation, and I was super excited, I swear," I start saying nothing with nothing, feeling guilty for ruining our plans. "But then my mom told me she had this thing and..."

Before I could finish apologizing, Matt cuts me, understanding. "No babe, that's fine. Don't worry. Maybe we can do something else? With your sister? I have stuff to do all day, but I’m free at night, maybe we can have a sleepover or something?”

I sigh in relief “Yeah sure, that sounds great, I will talk about It with Bella”

“Alright call me later sweetheart, love you, bye” He ends the call and I go back to the living room, getting back on my place.

Bella is still peaceful sleeping on the couch. Not wanting to disturb her, I cover her with a blanket, but my actions unfortunately wake her up, blinking her sleepy eyes open. A small yawn escapes her lips, and she looks at me with a drowsy smile.

"Hey, sleepyhead" I whisper, gently brushing a piece of hair from her face. "Did you have a nice nap?" Bella nods, rubbing her eyes with tiny hands. "Mhm" she murmurs, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

I think about a way to tell her that Matt is coming over before she could fall back asleep “So.. do you remember my boyfriend, Matt?" Bella blinks, her sleepy expression turning curious. "Mm-hmm" she mumbles again, nodding slowly.

“What if.. He came over to a super fun sleepover with us today?” I say trying to sound extra excited to convince her.

Bella's eyes light up with excitement at the mention of a sleepover. "Yeah!" She exclaims, her drowsiness quickly dissipating. "Matt is funny!" Her sentence makes me chuckle “Oh he is?” She nods giggling, It doesn't even look like she just woke up.

The rest of the day, she doesn’t stop talking about Matt.

“Then- Then will Matt play games with me?”

“And can we watch frozen? I think Matt will like it”

Over and over, she’s more excited than me. But I mean, I can’t blame her, It’s Matt over all.

Around 8pm, Matt rings on the doorbell. I go over to the front door, Bella follows me, getting behind my left leg. I open the door and I see my boyfriend with two bouquets of flowers, a big one, and a small one.

“Hey love” He leans for a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, then he hands me the bouquet “This is for you”

A smile appears across my face, I chuckle “Thank you so much.. You really didn’t had to” I say looking at my favorite flowers.

“No that’s fine, don’t worry” Matt returns the smile, his eyes lighting up as he sees Bella peeking out shyly from behind me. "Hey, Bella" he says warmly, crouching down to her level. "I also brought these for you, little princess" he says, offering her the smaller bouquet with a gentle smile.

Bella looks at me, seeing Bella's hesitation, I give her a soft nod, silently urging her to accept the flowers from Matt. With a shy smile, Bella reaches out and takes the bouquet from him, still with one hand around my leg.

“What do we say Bella?” I place my hand on the top of her head, caressing her hair.

“Thank you Matt” She says still shy.

"You're welcome, Belly" He responds getting up, his voice gentle and kind.

Some hours after playing some board games and talking, Bella decided to go get her toys.

She returns carrying a bunch of dolls and stuffed animals, then she settles onto the carpet in front of us and places everything there. “Matt come play with me!” She says excited with some barbie’s in her small hands.

He gets up from the couch, and sits down next to Bella on the floor “Alright so what doll am I?” Bella looks around “Hmmm..” She grabs a really bad looking doll, marker-covered, and hands it to Matt. I automatically start laughing uncontrollably, Matt matches the energy.

I am just watching as they play, Bella makes Matt use a girly voice, what just makes everything ten times better for my entertainment.

After Bella got tired of playing with her toys, she made us watch frozen, it’s her favorite movie, this is probably her fifth time watching it. I sit on the left side of the couch, Matt on the middle and my sister next to him. Some 30 minutes after the movie started, Bella is already with her head on Matt’s lap, sleeping like a little angel, as Matt gently strokes her hair and she snuggles closer to him.

His eyes meet mine, seeing me watching him, he smiles “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” With a soft smile, I rest my head on Matt's shoulder “You just look so cute taking care of kids” He chuckles and leaves a kiss on the top of my head.

୨୧

this actually sucked, i’m so bad at doing cute scenes, this def wasn’t what I had in mind lol, maybe i will delete it later.

[yanderemommabean]

for the red rooms in devildom, imagine lucifer finally deciding to give red rooms a shot when he realizes mc will soon leave devildom and/or keeps rejecting his affection

Lucifer being the avatar of pride means he can’t exactly handle rejection. Maybe a few times at first, seeing it as a way to chase and have fun and to prove himself to you and sweep you off of your feet, but after a while it really gets under his skin. 

Why? Why are you denying him? Sure he can understand being scared of him, he’s one of the most powerful demons after all, and sadly you were more than once on the wrong end of that ire and anger when you first arrived. He won’t deny that your emotions with those incidents are possibly why you wouldn’t want to be with him, but surely now you see hes trying to make amends? That he’d kiss the ground you walk on and make sure to keep you safe? 

It seems you were serious about denying and rejecting his affections. You tell everyone at dinner what a wonderful time you’ve had, and how in three days time you’re expected to leave, back to the human world, leaving them to wallow in your absence. 

Well, you won’t get away with that. He won’t let you make this mistake. He just gives a soft smile, a gentle hug, and tells you that he’ll miss you, but as you head up to bed and listen to Mammon and Levi’s blabbering and sobbing, Lucifer decides to make a rather last resort call. 

The Red Rooms. The last place he ever wanted to bring you. While they care for the darling's experience, he doesn’t want to have to force this, but you’re really leaving him no choice! 

He’ll make sure the rooms are to your tastes. Stuffed animals to cry into when overwhelmed, softer gags to be easier on your jaw, padded cuffs to make sure your delicate human skin isn’t bruised unless he decides to bruise it himself. 

The demon chuckles on the other end of the line but once they hear who’s making the call, they shut up and show respect. 

“Nothing rough. This is to prove my devotion and how I’m better than my brothers. I want only the best, the softest, the cleanest and the safest. I won’t hesitate to kill you and wring your blood into my food to devour. Do we have an understanding?” 

He goes through the list, his mind getting even more perverted than Asmo as he pictures how he’ll make you moan and whimper for him. “Oh? Well I must admit that golden hellfire newt syrup would be a nice touch but I'm as ready as ill need to be. Yes, I'm aware it's a potent aphrodisiac but I assure you, my love and lust know no bounds when it comes to my sweet little minx” 

The call goes on a little longer, Lucifer giving some final details on safety measures, only giving Diavolo's emergency number in case he completely loses himself, and so on. Who woulda thought the demons in the seediest parts of the underworld would be so caring? Then again it’s rumored Barbatos and Diavolo run the palace in disguise so…

When asked how they are to bring you in, Lucifer just smiles and tries not to break the phone in an angered crush. To think they’d touch you, it just sent a pang of anger through his core. But he knows they’re simply doing their job, so he can’t exactly kill them just yet.

“I’ll use the spells you have on hand, or ill bring them in myself under a guise of a last dinner together. You’ll know it's me by what I'm wearing. None of this better go wrong, or I assure you, you wont live to warn the others of my wrath”.

-Mommabean (HI! I hope you likes this bean!!)

[pinkyqil]

R is very very shy and a little awkward, a couple of years younger than Ingrid and not famous, they've been seeing each other for a couple of months and she's been to a couple of games supporting Ingrid. The fans and the media all try to know who she is, crossing her privacy ecc and start to say very mean things to her so she start to pull away cause she's sad and think that Ingrid can have someone much better but Ingrid confort her cause she only wants her

I want you and you only // Ingrid engen

You and Ingrid had been dating for a couple of months now despite the three year age gap you both had going on. She loved you loved her that all that matters.

Ingrid always wanted to come wacht a few of the games oblivious and to support her. but due to timid and shy personality she understands and didn't push your buttons about it anymore.

You being you not wanting to feel like you disappoint her started going to the machetes even though sometimes you felt overwhelmed.

A few fans started noticing you're interaction digging in to recorde any sweet moments they could catch and post it on various platforms. The media trying to see if you had any celebrity status.

Ingrid had noticed the sudden attraction you both got from the public and told you to keep it on the for your own behalf but you took that too heart thinking that she was pushing you away and didn't want people to know about you.

You continued visiting Ingrid and supporting the team which lead to more media abuse.like fans finding out your private account and send you hateful messages saying Ingrid deserves better than you targeting your looks weight and everything they could critique about you.

You stopped coming to the games and kept rescheduling dates with her where you bearly showed up.

Slowly you started wondering if you were good enough for her.you already got the memo from people you weren't good for her or anyone.

tonight you planned on breaking up with her she had invited you over and you couldn't ignore your girlfriend soon to be ex.

Ingrid on the other hand had been very worried about you. Especially when she saw how the past few days you had declined her she was very worried after seeing things being said about you.

Arriving at Ingrid places you felt really nervous you were about to break up with the woman you loved the most.

Taking a deep breath before knocking on her door.

The door had opened with a worried looking Ingrid.she had immediately pulled you into a hug and kisses all over you face.

Oh lord how we're you supposed to break up with her you thought.

"Baby I was worried you stopped answering my text the last few days-". She tried to finish but got cut of by you.

"Let break". You told her with a cold stone face.

"What why did I do anything wrong".

"No you did nothing wrong it me I'm the problem you deserve better than me". You told her.

"What do you mean you're amazing please tell me your aren't listening to what people say".

"It not only that Ingrid you pushed me away when I tried to be there for you".

"Baby no I didn't mean it that why I just said it so you don't feel pressured I love you please don't leave me. She told you with tears flowing from her face.

You couldn't believe yourself for believing all that you had an amazing woman in front of you why would you try to ruin it.

"I'm sorry baby I just don't understand why everyone just seems to have something to say about me". you told her now crying.

"I love you and you'll always be enough to me". she told you

"Love to too".you said before grabbing her face and kiss her.

Ingrid_engen&Yourusername

Love you always and forever liked by alexiaputellas,onabatlle,lucybronze and 20,66 others

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A/n: hope you like this and it reaches your standardsfeedback are appreciated and feel free to send in more or just chat in

[writerslittlelibrary]

So, I'm not a prisoner? part 2

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra

summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…

pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader

warnings: like, one swear word 

genre: fluff, angst

words: 2554

a/n: I apologise if this chapter isn’t the best. I’m in a bit of a depression slum so I’m not really motivated to do anything right now. I might come back later and fix this chapter a bit

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

After leaving the apartment, you immediately noticed the SHIELD agents piled up outside. They must have been listening to your conversation. 

Natasha led you towards a SHIELD car, opening the door for you, allowing you to get in. She got in the drivers seat, and followed by about a dozen other SHIELD trucks, she drove towards an airport nearby. 

The Quinjet was waiting at the airport, Clint Barton apparently inside of it. 

“I know this must be very overwhelming for you,” Natasha spoke, glancing towards you before focusing on the road again. 

You stayed quiet, instead staring out the window as you watched all objects blur. 

“I promise you we are going to help you,” Natasha affirmed. You turned your head, looking at her. 

“You can’t honestly sit there and tell me you are certain they won’t lock me away the moment I set foot in there,” you stated, and Natasha looked at you, giving you a sad smile. 

“I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make sure you won’t be locked away,” Natasha started, focusing back on the road and taking a deep breath. 

“How can you be so sure?” you asked. 

“I’ll think of something. I can put you under my supervision. I can lock you in a room and make sure you can leave it with me. Anything. I will come up with anything,” Natasha assured you. You didn’t want to believe her. You didn’t believe her, yet for some reason, whether it was her tone or the way that she spoke, you couldn’t help but deep down, believe her, even just a little. 

You sighed and looked back out the window, wanting nothing but to wake up from this nightmare. 

Yet then again, if this were a nightmare, wouldn’t you just wake up in your old one?

Your mind was a mess, and you could hear all the voices in your head scream at you. You saw Madame B every time you closed your eyes, just yelling at you. Telling you what a screw-up you were. Telling you all the ways that you failed them.

You always hated Natasha Romanoff for being a traitor, but now you met her, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were wrong. 

And even if you weren’t, you were now officially a traitor as well. 

You wanted to make Dreykov proud. That’s what you were supposed to do, right? If you made him proud, you’d get rewarded. You were the pride jewel. He loved you, didn’t he? He cared about you. You weren’t some disposable Widow. You knew that. But, then again, he was the one that told you that. And could he really be trusted? 

You groaned slightly, rubbing your temple with your right hand and you closed your eyes. 

“Everything okay?” Natasha asked, giving you a concerned glance. 

“I’m fine,” you bit back quickly, hating to look weak. Natasha didn’t take you response as hurtful. She knew you weren’t actively trying to hurt her. She understood the way you were raised, and she’d be damned if she, or anyone else, would ever misunderstand you. 

The drive to the airport didn’t take long, and soon enough you could spot the Quinjet from the car. 

“You brought the Avengers superjet…?” you asked, and Natasha gave you a small smile as she nodded. “That’s not exactly subtle…” you told her, yet Natasha just shrugged. 

“It’s fast,” she responded, driving the car as close as she could get it to the Quinjet. Once she stopped the car, she got out, walking over to your side and opening the door for you. You didn’t acknowledge it as you got out, immediately noticing the other SHIELD trucks that were parked closely. 

Some agents stood outside their cars, their hand on their weapon as they watched you. 

You noticed a woman walking towards you, and you took a step back when you decided she was way to close. 

The woman didn’t acknowledge your defensive attitude, instead holding up a pair of handcuffs and reaching for your hands. 

You pulled your hands back, and before the woman could say anything, Natasha had noticed what was going on, stepping in front of you and stopping the woman. 

“What are you doing?” Natasha asked, despite the fact it was obvious. 

“It’s protocol,” the woman claimed, yet when she tried to step towards you again, Natasha stopped her. 

“She came willingly,” Natasha stated, but the woman just shook her head. 

You noticed neither of them were going to give up, and quite honestly you just wanted to get rid of the woman. And so, you took a step forward, holding up your hands to the woman, giving her an expecting look. 

Natasha looked a bit shocked, yet didn’t take long to place her hand on your arm. 

“You really don’t have to,” she stated, but you interrupted her. 

“It’s fine. Let’s just go,” you stated, and the woman nodded as she made quick work of handcuffing you. 

After she was finished, Natasha gently took your upper arm, leading you towards the Quinjet. Clint Barton was already waiting on board, having a small smile on his face when he spotted you two. 

“Hey kid, nice to see you turn over a new leaf,” he said, yet you just scoffed. 

He didn’t seem offended, but rather just smiled and turned the chair around, facing the control panel. 

He pressed a few buttons, and the Quinjet closed.

“Take a seat. We’ll be flying for a few hours,” Natasha announced, and you nodded as you held up the pair of handcuffs. 

A look of shock and confusion took place on Natasha’s face, before she quickly regained herself and gave you her famous smirk. 

“Damn… You’re good good,” she told you, and you gave her a small smile before you sat down on a seat. 

Natasha discarded of the handcuffs, placing them in some cupboard before taking a seat next to you. “I know you’re scared, and I know you’re not showing it, and you’ll never admit it, but I promise you, I will make sure everything is gonna be alright,” Natasha said, looking forward, not wanting to pressure you.

You would of course never let her know, but you appreciated what she said. You would indeed never admit it, but you were scared. 

You weren’t just scared of the Avengers, though. You were afraid of what Dreykov would do to you. You were afraid what he would think, and what he would say. He would be so disappointed. Natasha Romanoff was right there. The traitor is sitting right next to you. You could so very easily just kill her. Slit her throat. Her guard was down. She would never see it coming. Dreykov would be so proud. 

You weren’t sure whether you wanted to kill her, and for the first time in your life, you found yourself debating whether you should kill her or not. 

Never once in your life did you think about killing someone or not. Never once did you think about the consequences. I was always just another assignment. Another person you had to wipe from existence, and you never, ever, dared to give it a second thought.

This experience was weird for you. 

You didn’t really want to kill Natasha, but yet again, you were supposed to, so why wouldn’t you? It’s not like you really cared whether Natasha lived or died. Did you?

You simply sighed and let your head fall back against the wall behind you, closing your eyes and letting your thought run through your head. What would Dreykov say? You knew what he would say. Deep down, you knew he didn’t care. 

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

After the Quinjet landed, Natasha and Clint guided you through the Avengers tower, claiming they need to take you to an office so you could speak with the director, Nick Fury.

You, of course, knew exactly where that office was, yet you decided to keep your mouth shut and just follow them. You didn’t want to make this situation worse for yourself. You knew the entire lay-out of the Avengers towers, and you were pretty certain Natasha was aware of that. 

Once you took the elevator and made it to the office, Nick Fury was sitting behind his desk, Maria Hill standing of to the side with a clip board in her hand. 

There were Shield agents standing outside the door, and you were pretty sure they were there to make sure you couldn’t try anything. 

“Take a seat,” Nick Fury simply said, and you looked at Natasha unimpressed, before you took a step forward, setting yourself down in the seat at the other side of the desk, across from Nick Fury. 

“You understand we cannot trust you, correct?” Fury stated, and you looked him in the eyes, enough for him to accept it as a yes, apparently. 

“Director Hill,” Fury then mentioned, getting up from his seat. 

Maria Hill walked towards the desk, placing her clip board on it as she sat down herself. She gave you a small smile. You didn’t return it. 

You were focused on your surroundings. Clint had left the room. Natasha was leaning against the wall next to the door. She probably didn’t want to disturb the conversation, yet she didn’t want to leave you alone. Maybe she just wanted to keep her eye on you. 

Before Fury walked away, he turned to look at you.

“Don’t fuck this up,” he stated, before walking towards the door, leaving the room. 

You turned your gaze back to Maria, who had picked up a pen, now waiting for your attention to turn back to her. Once it did, she began speaking. 

“I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and you just try and answer them to the best of you abilities,” she explained, and you nodded slightly. 

“Could you please state your full name and date of birth?” 

“Y/n, the rest I don’t know…” you replied, and Maria nodded. “Do you have any idea of how old you may be?” she asked and you nodded, giving her your assumed age. 

She wrote the information down, scratching some things out on the clipboard before turning to the next question. 

“Do you know where you were born?” she asked, and you nodded. 

“I was born in Russia, but I’m not sure whether my parents were Russian,” you explained, and Maria nodded as she wrote it all down. 

“Have you always been in Russia?” 

You shook your head, briefly telling her about certain mission you had been on that took longer than a month. 

There was that time in Seattle, when you lived with another Red Room Widow pretending to be your mother. You had gone to an actual school, and you had had actual friends. 

There was another time in the Netherlands, when you were with a Hydra agent. Something about a debt Dreykov owed to Alexander Pierce. You had been chosen for a mission with a Hydra agent. You were posing as a normal teenager, whose mother passed, which is why your father moved you all the way to the Netherlands. You enjoyed the learning the language, yet you found it one of the harder ones to master due to the many odd rules. 

Maria wrote every single detail you told her down, not missing a single thing as she made sure everything was on paper. 

After a few more questions, and many ‘I don’t know’s’ from you, Maria finally put her pen down, smiling at you gently. 

“That’s all for now,” she explained and you nodded. 

“Come on,” you heard Natasha say, and you got up, walking towards her. 

“See you later,” she told Maria before guiding you out. Were they a thing? Did Natasha see how Maria blushed? Did Natasha notice how she herself blushed? 

Whatever. 

Natasha led you towards the elevator, pressing a button, then entering a code. You learned about this. To get to the living quarters of the Avengers tower, you had to enter a code. This was to prevent any unwanted visitors in the living space of the Avengers. 

Once the elevator opened, Natasha led you out, guiding you towards a hallway. You followed her the entire way, making sure to walk at least a metre behind her. 

You weren’t allowed to walk next to your superiors, and even though you weren’t sure what you place in this tower would be, you didn’t want to take any chances. You didn’t want to stray to far from the manners you were taught. 

Natasha probably noticed, but whether she did or not, she decided not to mention it. 

Eventually, she stopped in front of a door, pushing a key in the keyhole and unlocking it. 

“This will be you room,” she smiled and pushed the door open. “My room is across from this one, and the only other people in this hallway are Wanda and Carol, but she is not often on earth,” Natasha explained, and you nodded as if you didn’t already know it.

You stepped into the bedroom, and it took you a moment to process the fact, that all that space, would be yours now. 

“Do you like it?” Natasha asked, waiting by the door. 

“It’s so… big…” you stated, slowly walking further into the room. Natasha smiled as she made her way towards another door. 

“This is the bathroom. I stocked it with some basic supplies beforehand, so you’ll probably be good for a little while, or just until we get the chance to go shopping,” Natasha stated as she closed the door again. 

“This is the closet,” she explained, walking over to the piece of furniture and opening it.

“Right now, there are just some things from me and Wanda that will probably be wearable for you, but we’ll get you some new clothes soon,” Natasha smiled, and you nodded. 

Natasha walked over to the desk, sitting down on the desk chair and looking at the ground. It seemed she had something to say, and it would be something you wouldn’t like. You took a seat on the bed, across from her, and simply waited until she spoke. 

“Now, because we do not know you, we cannot just let you roam freely around the tower. I managed to convince Fury you shouldn’t be put in a cell, but unfortunately, this door will have to be locked until further notice,” Natasha explained and you nodded. 

“He’d be stupid not to,” you replied, and Natasha nodded, giving you a small smile.

“I promise I will come check on you often, okay? And you can leave the room if you are accompanied, so I will make sure to take you on some daily walks or something, alright?” Natasha explained, and you nodded, giving her a smile in return. 

“I promise you, everything will only get better now,” Natasha told you, and you nodded as she got up, walking towards the door. 

“I’ll get you something to eat, and some entertainment,” she explained, and she left the room. 

Suddenly, you were left alone. This was your room. You made the choice. You were officially a traitor. There was no going back. You did this to yourself. You royally screwed up. Or perhaps, just maybe, you made a really good choice?...

Tags: @wandanatlov3r @tobiaslut @natashasgirlll @xanthreee

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey

[mono-dot-jpeg]

bad decisions - i. sae, b. meguru & m. reo

summary; let's make some bad decisions.

genre/extra tags; rambling post?/scenarios???, fluff but not really, diet fluff, and diet angst, late night thoughts combined with day light thoughts, might be ooc

a/n; im gonna go out on a limb here and say you dont want yandere obsessive tendencies in the relationship (i dont write yandere bc i hate that trope and i dont understand the appeal). i only did three bc this was all i can think of, im so sorry- hope you enjoy this either way. thank you for requesting and for your patience.

i think we all saw this coming when i say, sae probably gotta have some odd habits and thoughts when it comes to being a relationship. he's precise and serious in his soccer, and that bleeds into his relationships. it has nothing to you, no, not when he's so used to seeing into every detail and every possibility. he keeps trying to predict what you will do, and then you surprise him when it's not what he expected. most of the time, this happens when you're just doing something without much thought. he gets kind of weird about it though, he just blue-screens and had to take a moment before asking what is wrong with you because you didn't do the thing he expected. you have to tell him that this is just how you are, and he refuses to be outsmarted by his partner when he's usually the one with the brain cell between you two.

he feels the need to check on you a lot because he doesn't express it outright. he observes you like he's in a game match. it's cute at first but then you realize, "oh god he's really paying attention a little too well..."

he hates if you ever even try to interact with rin. he is one jealous little shit. if he's in a good mood [which is hard to tell with him], you have like a higher chance of talking to rin. but most days, he's keeping you away from him.

bachira is unpredictable and he's crazy. he loves you a lot. and i mean a lot. he's extremely clingy towards things he cherishes and that probably stems from the lack of friends he had back then and he's just scared to lose you. but sometimes he really impedes on the day-to-day routine. he needs reassurance when you're gone. he texts you a lot. very standard clingy person.

he feels the need to be a guard dog. he's possessive but not in the way sae would be with his jealously. no, bachira is possessive but he's confident that he will keep you protected from others. but also he loves to wreak havoc so he likes being loud about being clingy and protective. it can get overwhelming.

i'm gonna be real, this one is short because bachira's traits could probably be pretty amplified in a relationship and honestly, i would go as far as to think that most of his traits would just be either better or worse in a relationship.

overbearing. that should be enough to explain it.

he's got a weird complex with him. at least that is what i think. he really stuck with nagi a lot, and i think he would do the same in a romantic relationship. he's gotten too used to coddling nagi and he does the same to you. he spoils you. and it's great at first, but it can be a lot at once. and honestly i think he feels the need to compensate for something. what is the thing he's compensating for? i don't know, but he gives me those "compensating for something with money" vibes.

i think it's safe to say that all the boys have a pride to uphold and reo is no different. he hates being inactive. he wants to help you all the time. and i mean all the time. he wants to be useful but he goes at it terribly. he wants to be relied on.

is it crazy to say that i think reo is the worst out of the three here? probably but whatever.

[agroteraa]

Artemis

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 2.

Part 1: Actaeon

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)

Warnings: smut, oral, handjob, penetration sex.

Word Count: 5,5K

After the events of the last night, you didn't join in watching TV with the Cattons and Oliver. No, you weren't tired, but you were overwhelmed with emotions and all that had happened. Besides, you couldn't imagine how you could just go and watch telly with Oliver after that. It would be too embarrassing to pretend that nothing had happened, and you didn't think he'd be able to keep his face either.

So, you just went to your bed, tossing and turning for most of the night, thinking about what scenes in the bathroom. It felt like Oliver's hands were still ghostly wandering all over your body...

You came to breakfast very sleepy and visibly a little lost. It was a beautiful and sunny morning, and all Saltburn habitants were sitting at a table outside and eating various treats.

"Good morning, everyone!" you said, not being able to hold back a yawn.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" Elspeth replied, looking at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"

Felix echoed his mother's look, slightly raising his eyebrows in concern. The others were busy with their own conversations, and only Oliver silently cast a brief glance at you, returning to eating his full English breakfast.

"Yes, it's okay, I'm just... I couldn't fall sleep for a while."

"Okay," Elspeth nodded, satisfied with your rather innocuous answer.

When you took a seat at the table opposite Oliver, you couldn't look into his eyes, your stomach was twisting, not from the hunger, but from the excitement. You didn't feel like eating at all. Duncan brought you eggs cooked in your favorite way, you nodded gratefully to him, but you were in no hurry to eat. Oliver noticed it.

"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, looking up at you.

"Um, I'm just... I don't know, I guess I'm just not hungry right now."

"Hmm. Well, but I am. I've been hungry since last night. Very much," he chuckled, returning to his meal with appetite.

You gulped. It seems that he didn't mean breakfast at all now?

That had how your morning went, and then you went about your own business. Oliver, Felix, Farleigh and Venetia went to play tennis. You dismissed the game, and even more so there were exactly four of them. Instead, you went for a walk in gardens of Saltburn, read a book in a shady gazebo and muse upon the evening ahead. So, the evening had finally come, forcing the hot sun to forget about itself until the next day.

You thought and decided to politely decline the dinner. To be honest, you were feeling sick with excitement, and you definitely wouldn't be able to eat anything at dinner, especially if Oliver would be looking at you. It was better to seem a little weird now than to get a bunch of unwanted questions later.

Instead, you decided to stay in your room, citing a slight indisposition. You really had it, though, for a different reason. You lied down on the bed and began to remember the last night. His touch, his breathing, his piercing blue eyes that turned dark with desire at that moment... a desire for you.

It was hard to even believe it, but it seemed that was it. Your breathing got heavy when you started running your fingers over your lips, feeling your hot breath on your fingers, because you imagined that it were Oliver's fingers...

... ohh. You definitely needed to do something about it tonight.

* * *

"Where have everyone gone? I've been looking for y’all for half an hour," you said, finding Oliver in the library, who was comfortably settled in an armchair and reading a book.

"They're playing Uno. It seems that Felix and Farleigh will quarrel even more than yesterday over the remote control, and Venetia is also with them."

"Why aren't you with them too?"

"I'm not a fan of these kinds of games," Oliver explained with an emphasis on "these" not even looking up from his book.

"Mm, yes, about Venetia. Although she is not giving concerts in the bathroom tonight, but now there is only cold water running, apparently there is also some kind of heating malfunction, and the second bathroom still has not yet been repaired..."

At this point, Oliver looked up at you, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm..." you confirmed, biting your lip.

He looked at you searchingly, tilting his head slightly to the side. Then, with a rising smile, he replied to you, "Of course. Enjoy yourself," and returned to reading his book. That was it, there was no further reaction or words from Oliver.

"F-fine." That was it? For some reason, you hoped that he would somehow hint that he would also join you, or at least react livelier to your words. But you had no choice but to go back to your room, get a bathrobe and go to that bathroom. You didn't bring a towel. Okay, Oliver, if you wanted to play ignore, we could arrange that.

Going into the bathroom of Oliver and Felix, you began to fill the tub. The room greeted you again with a pleasant dim lighting and the hum of water flowing down. His incomprehensible indifference throughout the day had upset you and even slightly angered you. Therefore, this time you had already put things on Felix's half on purpose and took his towels, no matter what Oliver had asked you to do.

After a while, you sank into the pleasantly hot water and began to wait. More precisely, at first you were really relaxing, but with every passing minute you were rather waiting for Oliver more than enjoying the process. But he did not come.

"Damn," you swore inwardly, and just as you were starting to think about getting out of the bath and getting ready, Oliver walked into the room.

"Hello!-" you started.

"Hi," he replied shortly and walked into his room, hardly looking at you. What?

You changed your mind about getting out of the bathtub right now and decided to sit in it until something would happen. About 5 minutes later Oliver came out, dressed in a domestic white tank top and stiped blue boxers. Your stomach turned over from this intimacy of his outfit. He went to his bathroom table, turned the water on and, as if nothing had happened, began to brush his teeth. He didn't start a conversation with you.

"So, uh, how was your day?" you began hesitantly, turning your head towards him.

"We played tennis, then took a dip in the pool, and then I enjoyed reading in the evening. Well, you’ve seen it."

"Yeah, that’s great..."

"And how was yours?"

"Not like... how I thought it would pass. I think I feel weird..."

"It must be because you didn't sleep well today. Go to bed early, yeah?"

"Huh? Yeah, I guess..."

You were a little lost. You looked at Oliver from behind, but he didn't turn to you. Of course, he was looking at you in the mirror again. He was a little on edge right now. This evening was not going quite the way he had imagined, but it was even intriguing.

The thing was that he had decided not to do anything with the second bathroom today. He overheard a conversation that the first bathroom had not been repaired again today, as the workers had confused the date and would arrive only tomorrow. So, it was even interesting for him to put it in the hands of fate. Would Venetia take over the only left bathroom again? Or would you just come in and innocently, hiding your gaze, ask Felix again or even Oliver himself if you could use their the bathroom again. Or maybe you would silently, struggling with your shame and desire, come to their bathroom and use it, hoping that something similar to the previous time would happen? Oh, he would definitely make your desires, which you were still afraid to admit to yourself, come true.

But no. You came to him and lied to him about the second bathroom, looking straight into his eyes.

"So, Y/N, do you want to remain innocent, but at the same time you know how to lie in your favor? It's interesting. You're beautiful and you did take a sacred bath, and now you really think you can be Artemis in every sense? No, no, no. No. Dear, there can only be one hunter here, and that's me," Oliver thought to himself, "And if you want to play on my field, well, I'll show you how it’s done."

With these thoughts, Oliver bit his lip contentedly, continuing to read the book while you left the library, but his thoughts drifted further and further away from the subject of reading.

At first, he wanted to nonchalantly go into the bathroom and, while he was brushing his teeth, catch your glances with his skin, hear your rapid breathing and catch the sounds of your feet fidgeting in the water. Then, having played enough with this longing, he would help you get out of the bathroom, wipe your beautiful naked hot body with his towel, hold your hands and take you to his room, where he would give you all the pleasure you would wish for. And this time he would have taken everything he wanted from you, enjoying you at its fullest.

But no.

You left your stuff on Felix's side. You took his towels. He told you not to do that.

His teeth almost bit his toothbrush in half when he saw it through the mirror. Was it an act of defiance, a way to attract extra attention, or a way to cause jealousy? Y/N, don't be a fool. But he hated to admit it, that some kind of jealousy had appeared in him anyway, and he was mad about it. No, don't you even dare to think that way. You were his, you would be only his.

The mood for a slow and sensual night has evaporated completely. Right now, Oliver could only bend you over and fuck you properly. Yes, that would be sweet too. But still, he didn't want to ruin everything and start your relationship like this. He'd better go to bed now, and tomorrow he’d know better.

"So, I'm going to bed, too. Good night, Y/N," Oliver said calmly, clutching the toothbrush in his hands with all his might, making it almost break it a second time.

You were left alone in the bathroom. What had happened? Were you too persistent, and Oliver was upset by your persistence? Or was he really that angry about your stuff left on Felix's table? It also occurred to you that he somehow intuitively felt and was upset about your lies, but of course he couldn't know that. But you still felt somehow guilty.

After getting out of the bathtub and draining the water, you dried yourself with a towel and, putting on your bathrobe, leaned your hands on the sink on Felix's side. You looked in the mirror and thought what should you do. No, you couldn't just walk away, there was too much left unsaid.

*Knock-knock*

"Oliver!"

The door opened a crack, in front of you there was Quick looking out of the darkness with his bright blue eyes. He took off his tank top and wore boxers only. You involuntarily looked at his beautiful torso, on which was nothing on but one chain, glittering on the neck. You gulped.

"Yes?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.

"Can we talk?" this time it was you who walked into his room without waiting for an invitation or even more so a refusal.

You stepped into his dark, moonlit room. He stood a few inches away and silently looked you up and down. You continued, "You've been acting kind of weird all day, I'm sorry if this is me who..."

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience right now.

He silently pulled you to him, kissing you. You were very surprised, but you gave yourself up to this kiss with joy. Oliver kissed you passionately and long, then he took your hand and pulled you towards his bed. He carefully loosened the belt of your robe, admiring you from head to toe. Then he gently but abruptly threw you onto the bed and fell on top of you, leaning on his elbows and knees. Quick started kissing your neck, leaving hot prints of his lips on it, then he kissed your collarbone, then the place between your breasts. You started hugging him harder. Oliver continued his way down, kissing the place under your breasts and then slid his tongue over your stomach all the way to the bottom. You exhaled loudly, moving one hand to his soft hair on his head and squeezing it slightly.

He breathed out contentedly, and you could feel his smile on your skin. Then he cast a brief lustful glance at you, and went down even lower, to the most desired place. He kissed your inner thigh and then placed his lips on your folds. You felt his hot breath for a few seconds, as if he was enjoying this moment and didn't believe in it himself. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity to you, until he ran his tongue over your folds. You were already wet, so wet.

The tip of his tongue began to slowly glide up and down into the sensitive flesh all across your pussy, you left a sharp gasp. It was almost an electric feeling. Then he buried his mouth into you and started to run circles inside you with his wet and hot tongue. You began to moan softly while twitching your legs a little.

His hands were gripping your thighs, pulling your body even closer to his mouth. You buried both of your hands into his dark hair, letting a deep moan. Oliver was massaging your flesh from the inside, he was eating you out, almost humming to himself. Then he returned to caress your sensitive clit. You arched your back and you let out whine, burying hands deeper into his soft locks, almost tugging them. He let out satisfied pant and you looked down at him.

Gosh, he looked absolutely breathtaking, giving you a glare back with his piercing blue eyes on a half-seen face between your legs. And all this was happening in his moonlit room, like in some dark fairytale. It gave you a jolt of pleasure to the point you almost came.

He accelerated his pace and pressure until you tilted back your head and let out a long moan. You began to buck your hips but his hands were holding you firmly it almost hurt. His tongue got sloppy and messy as he feverishly caressed you. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Oliver!..” you cried out his name, clenching his head with your legs, his strong hands released the grip.

He raised his head with lips and chin glistening in the dark, panting and smiling. He was looking at your bliss, the result of his work, with indescribable delight. Oliver looked absolutely stunning that way, being covered in your bliss that he gave to you. You had almost come for the second time at that view.

"I'm very glad that you liked it. And now," he leaned up to kiss you briefly on the lips, "It's time to go to bed. Sweet dreams, Y/N, tomorrow will definitely be a better day."

You were surprised that he wanted to end it, but you were barely thinking and were still beside yourself with bliss, so, as if in a fog, you pulled on your bathrobe, nodded to Oliver and left on fast but wobbly legs. It was like you were bewitched and you didn't do it all yourself, but at someone's behest.

Oliver smiled contentedly, falling back onto the bed.

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience, but not to the point where he could completely control himself and not break into a rage that would just tear you apart if he met his desires utterly.

Thus, tonight it would be his hand again, but this was definitely for the last time. Tomorrow he would be counting on your hands and not only on them.

* * *

Tomorrow was definitely a better day. Your appetite had returned, Oliver secretly was moving to you plates with pastries and fruits. You smiled and happily ate everything he offered.

But what happened in the last few nights seemed to remain only there. During the day, there was some kind of different, still a little tense atmosphere. Except that the ambiguity was replaced by a more agitated expectation and intrigue. It was still difficult for both of you to do small talks when the pictures of previous nights were so vivid in your heads.

Tonight was going to be a busy night, because James and Elspeth's friends, numerous Henrys and their wives, came to Saltburn. You also knew many of them, so you spent the whole evening in lively conversations with the exchange of news over the past year, endlessly promising to send greetings to your parents. Oliver seemed to be a little lost, especially at dinner, but you were seated quite far from each other, so even if you decided to talk to him, you couldn't do it. But you nodded at him from the other end of the table, lighting up the whole evening with your smile. He felt much less alone from that moment onwards.

The dinner was sumptuous, and numerous flowers and candles rested on the dark mirrored table, the candlelight danced beautifully on the faces of wining and dining guests. You stole a glance at Oliver - God, how handsome he was in this evening tuxedo, did he know that? You had a growing desire to get alone with him, but you had absolutely no idea how you could do it unnoticeably, and generally... take the initiative. You wouldn’t go to his bathroom for the third time, would you?

The evening was followed by a karaoke night led by DJ Farleigh. Everyone was having fun, singing along and clapping each other, it didn't matter if someone sang noticeably badly or really very well. Although “uncle” Henry's performance to the song “Low" was already too much, especially at the moment when you almost got smashed by his thrown jacket.

"Good Lord, give me strength," you thought, and then changed your prayer, turning your head to the side at Henry's wife, who eventually got his jacket right in her face, "Although no, please better give this woman strength."

Felix had been gallantly pouring you wine half the evening, asking how your mood was, and made funny comments about the guests. Then Venetia came, you also had a drink with her and a lively talk, and then she and her brother went to stand in a corner while smoking cigarettes, hilariously dancing to karaoke songs. Elspeth walked and chatted charmingly with the guests, and James sometimes eagerly but out of pace clapped to the rhythm of modern dance floor hits with often dubious lyrics.

Oliver was sitting on the opposite couch almost all this time, drinking some kind of tropical long. You didn't talk to him much during karaoke, but the conversation with his eyes was more than enough. His expressive orbs alternated between looking at you and following your rolling gaze as you watched another Henry who was making another drunken joke. And then his eyes started to burn a hole in you more and more, but he still remained silent and did not approach. Okay. In a different state, you may had started overthinking it or getting upset again, but not now. Now you were drunk enough to perform some karaoke hit and tell him everything with it. Well, telling something, at least.

"Farleigh!" you shouted, pointing at him.

"Yes!" he poked his finger at you in response, holding the microphone.

"Toxic" by Britney Spears!" you said, calling out a few "o-o-o-ohs" from the audience.

"Great!" the DJ of the evening grinned, putting the right song and giving the microphone to you.

The familiar sounds of a sampled violin came in, and then your voice followed:

Baby, can't you see I'm calling?

A guy like you should wear a warning

It's dangerous, I'm falling

There's no escape, I can't wait

I need a hit, baby, give me it

You're dangerous, I'm loving it

You sang, turning to Oliver and looking into his eyes. He sucked his cocktail out of a straw and then put it on the floor without breaking eye contact with you.

Too high, can't come down

Losing my head, spinning 'round and 'round

Do you feel me now?

He was sitting on the couch in his smart black tux, leaning back slightly and spreading his legs wide. Oliver was listening to you so attentively, as if this was not a Britney song, but some kind of revelation addressed only for him to comprehend.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

And I love what you do

Don't you know that you're toxic?

He grinned at you. You started swinging your hips slightly while you were singing. Oliver licked his lips lightly.

It's getting late to give you up

I took a sip from my devil's cup

Slowly, it's taking over me

What a confession. Or was it a call?

You kept singing while everyone else supported you and sang along too. Farleigh danced to the beat of the music, and Felix and Venetia just had a separate party in the corner of the room, as if they were really at a Britney concert, and not karaoke party, where their friend finally decided to sing, being a little drunk. Elspeth and James, somehow in an old-fashioned, but a very sweet way danced sitting on the couch. All this support from the Cattons was especially pleasant and inspired me to sing the song even more boldly!

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now (I think I'm ready now)

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now

Yes, it was definitely a call. Oliver shifted on the couch, outwardly remaining calm, but deep inside he just had a storm of emotions and desires.

Artemis was luring her Actaeon again.

The living room burst with applause and cheering. It was not that you sang better than the original, but still, this song had already become an everyone’s favourite hit, which could not be disliked in any case. And you sang charismatically, not to mention your body movements. You scored 100 points! And to Oliver it was all 200.

You chatted for a while with Felix and Venetia and one of the Henrys, who jumped up to you, drank more wine after such brave karaoke performance, and then sneaked out of the room, realizing that you urgently need to use the restroom. Your head was a little dizzy, but you got to that very bathroom of yours which actually worked fine. Having done all the necessary things, you began to wash your face and stood for a long time at the sink with the faucet open, gradually coming to your senses. Ugh, you shouldn’t drink like that, otherwise it won't be clear if you can remember the rest of the evening. And you really wanted the most interesting things to be just ahead.

"Oliver!"

He was standing against the wall opposite the bathroom exit.

"How did you know that you... that I... that I would go here and not, say, to your bathroom again?"

"Very simply, Y/N. You're drunk right now, and thus, you will most likely reach the place that you are most familiar with. Like on an autopilot. I decided that you use your bathroom more often than mine."

You thought about it. Indeed, everything was so simple when he explained it. He must be much more sober.

It was a good thing you left before Farleigh decided to make Oliver sing karaoke. It was unexpected and humiliating, very humiliating, but he turned the situation in his favor by handing the microphone back to Farleigh at the most ambiguous moment of the song. Soon it would be Farleigh paying his own "Rent". Fortunately, no one read this subtext except the two of them. Oliver wasn't worried much about that right now, he had more important things to do tonight, so he went looking for you, fortunately, it wasn't difficult at all.

"So, you sing," he stated, pulling away from the wall and leisurely approached you.

"Not really, more like when I have a little drink, huh..."

"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?"

"Yes, much better, thank you," you said, still musing, "And also I sing when there is a good reason for it"

Oliver came close to you, and leaning into your ear, asked, "Am I a good enough reason?"

You looked into his eyes, "What do you think..." and reached out to kiss him. The taste of your wine mixed with the taste of his sweet strong cocktails. "It seems he drank more than I thought after all, how is he holding up so well?" you wondered, but soon you lost the thread of thought when his tongue, even more saturated with alcohol, penetrated your mouth.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

Those lines from the song started spinning in your head again while your tongues were spinning in their own dance. You started to lose the feeling of the ground under your feet, but Oliver held you tight. But you still got to lean more on his sturdy body under that beautiful black and white suit.

Then, barely interrupting your kisses, you moved into your bedroom. It was lit by the moonlight, just like Oliver's bedroom last night. He began to take off your dress, gently kissing your shoulder. Then, you helped him undo your bra and stepped out of the shoes. At this time, he was taking off his tux without taking his eyes off you. He looked at you ecstatically from head to toe.

"Beautiful, so beautiful. Did I tell you that already?"

You nodded, smiling.

"I'll say it again. You're so fuckin’ beautiful," Oliver said with his deep sexy accent.

At these words, you became completely aroused and let out an inaudible moan, as he threw you on the bed, just like yesterday. After kissing you on the lips, he immediately went down on you, caressing your most sensitive part with his tongue and squeezing your hips harder than before. You shifted on the bed, entangling with his soft dark locks, and began to moan softly.

Oliver himself was also damn attractive, to say the least. His strong, slender stripped body covered yours, and only the chain was dangling on his neck. For some reason, this detail turned you on especially hard. Finally, you saw him completely naked, not just a couple of times in the tall grass, but right in your bedroom, when he was pressing you to the bed, towering over you. What a view.

His tongue was flicking over your clit, Oliver was almost moaning into your cunt as he eats you. You squeezed his head between your legs so hard, but he wouldn’t pull back. He was groaning and licking you relentlessly.

You were so close to orgasm, but he stopped and reached for your face, greedily kissing your lips with his shiny lips, this time for a long enough time so that you could taste your own arousal. It drove you crazy.

"Now you know just a little bit how delicious you are, Y/N," Oliver almost breathed those words right into your mouth.

He pulled himself up to you, and you felt his hard cock pressing against you. You put your hand on it, which made Oliver exhale sharply. Resting on his hands, he lifted up a little while you caressed it with your hand. He looked lasciviously at you, as your hand was moving up and down, stroking his dick. Then he hugged you and rolled over on the bed with you, and you were on top now. You sank lower, carefully wrapping your lips around his cock. He tilted his head back, mouth half open. The feel of your soft lips and warm tongue almost drove Oliver crazy. He put one hand in your hair, gently running it through.

"Yes, dear Y/N, that's it..."

"My sweet Y/N..."

Then you, without stopping your actions, looked him straight in the eyes. It was too much, and Oliver groaned and gently released you, turning you back down under him. His cock was harder than the steel of any sword that was in this manor.

"Do you know what is the best thing about a karaoke night, besides your amazing number?" asked Oliver and gave the answer himself, "It's that you can scream and moan all over the house, as loudly as you want. Or whatever I want it to be."

Those words flooded you with moisture, and at that moment Oliver entered you.

He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you. He exhaled, full of admiration and lust.

"Gods, Y/N, you’re so tight," he said breathlessly, kissing you. You started moaning into his mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips was leisurely at the start, gently rolling into yours, your eyes were connected to each other. His strong arms caged your twitching body under him. It all felt so good you were afraid that you might just woke up from some kind of dream or fantasy that you had, thinking of Oliver and falling asleep.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as he increased his pace. Soon, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless as his panting and your own moans. You wrapped your legs around his body, nails digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper into you.

“Fuck, girl, moan for me, yeah. Let the whole house know who is giving it to you, that pleasure,” Oliver’s hot whisper almost burned your skin.

You let out the loudest groan as he began slamming into you, driving to the edge of existence. The entire floor was really filled with your screams of pleasure, echoing in the dark. His hips slap against yours loudly, shaking the old bed. He clenched his teeth, watching the way your doe eyes look up at him, eyes were full of sensuality and desire. Oh, how beautiful and docile you were, he could not believe himself it was all happening at least.

You clenched around him and soon you arched your back, his name fell from your lips. He followed later soon, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he was doing last movements with his hips.

You went soft and limp under him as he panted with his hoarse voice in your ear. Oliver exhaled contentedly, triumphantly smirking.

You changed your position by lying down next to each other. For a while, you both just lay silently in bed, recovering your breath and feeling the spreading bliss to every cell of your bodies. Quick began to slowly and gently stroke and caress your body, leaving a weightless touch on your skin. He gently brushed two knuckles of his finger against your soft cheek.

"Oliver," you whispered into the darkness.

"Yes, Y/N?" he said, playing with your hair.

"Tell me, you've liked me since Oxford, haven't you? At first, I didn't even realise it, but in recent days I've been thinking so much about our acquaintance and how you looked at me then… So I thought it might be true..."

Oliver chuckled softly.

"Yes, my clever Y/N, you're absolutely right. I lost my head about you nearly as soon as I saw you. Seems you can't hide the truth from you."

You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's so good that you also got to Saltburn this summer," you mused, "Maybe, it is some kind of fate."

Oliver smiled at your words, gently tucking a lock behind your ear.

"Yes, I guess, it is."

The mixture of satisfaction, happiness and alcohol acted on you like a magic potion, and soon you peacefully fell asleep on his shoulder. Oliver was very glad that it was your room and you didn't have to be disturbed in any way. Saltburn had his own eyes and ears, it was not worth creating unnecessary rumors now. He wasn't in a position here to be able to afford it, at least, not now.

He kissed you gently on the temple and carefully left your bed, dressing up in his tuxedo and returning to the living room.

The fun continued. The hunt was a success.

[bratphilia]

exposure (w. afton x reader)

note: as promised, it's here. also fun fact i have ocd and exposure therapy is one way used in my treatment. so i turned it into porn. enjoy! i will most definitely write a second chapter

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: corrupt therapist!william, innocent virgin!reader, manipulation, oral sex (f receiving)

your thoughts are interrupted as you hear a voice call your name. "hi," your therapist says, smiling kindly at you.

"hi steve." you return the smile and follow him to his office.

he opens the door for you and closes it behind him. you take a seat on the couch while he situates himself in the chair across from you. "so tell me, how are you doing? how are the meds working out?" 

"well, um," you start apprehensively. "that's kinda why i'm here to see you so soon. it's been a month and i don't think they're working."

steve gives you a faux look of concern, as if to say "oh no" and clicks his tongue. of course the meds aren't working. he handed you a low dosage of tylenol, a pain medicine, in an orange bottle without a label. any smart person would've found that suspicious — even more suspicious considering the fact that he's a therapist, not a psychiatrist. 

there's nothing wrong with you, either. you're just an innocent — rather dumb, in his opinion — girl with repressed sexual thoughts. thoughts he's been working his way up to helping you through them. 

"and the ache in your stomach is still there?" steve asks, just to make sure. 

you mumble an "mhm" embarrassed to look at him. he bites back a grin. "well, i have an idea."

you perk up at that. "ever heard of exposure therapy?" you shake your head 'no.' "it's a kind of therapeutic exercise that stresses the importance of facing the things that are giving you anxiety."

you stare at him blankly. of course you don't understand what he's saying. you're his dumb little girl, after all. 

"tell me, what are the symptoms you're having?" he asks. he wants you to say it — say that the root of your problems stem from overwhelming horniness, just as you've danced around saying in every session you've had with him.

you look down at your shoes. "well, uhm, there's this... tingle in my stomach. and the thoughts i'm having are... concerning to me. it's like i'm obsessed with..." 

you trail off and he raises an eyebrow. "...i guess what i'm trying to say is... i'm having really dirty thoughts. sometimes... they're about you.. or some men i see staring at me." 

steve tries his hardest to keep up the facade of a concerned therapist, but he can't deny how your words are going straight to his dick. "i see." 

"can you help me, steve?" you look at him with the most innocent, doe eyes he's ever seen. 

he cocks his head and smiles at you. "of course i can." he refrains from calling you 'sweet girl' — too unprofessional.

steve takes his spot on the couch next to you. he helps you situate your self so that you're leaning back. "can you spread your legs for me? you might want to take off your shoes for the sake of your own comfort."

your brows furrow and you do what he says hesitantly. you're wearing a cute, pastel blue sundress. when you bring your knees to your chest, spread just like he asked, he reaches to fold your dress over and reveals your white cotton panties. he could come in his pants from the sight alone.

you make a resistant noise when he reaches for your panties. "no one's ever touched me there..."

he already knows that. he can tell. but still, something about being the first one to break open that sweet cunt of yours fills him with even more desire. "i'll be gentle, okay?" he promises.

you nod your head and allow him to slide your panties down your legs, leaving them stretched near the bottom of your calves purposefully. it provides as a small restraint to you in case you squirm away from his touch. just as he expected, your pussy is red, swollen, and shiny with your slick. poor thing, he thinks.

steve brings a hand to run up and down your cunt, wanting to collect the slick gathered there. you moan and he feels you shiver. "th-that feels funny..."

"yeah?" he says before thumbing your clit. you let out a high pitched whine. his eyes move towards your face, fascinated with the way your eyes are fluttering.

"does that feel good?" he inquires, earning a "mhm" from you.

he picks up the tempo, rubbing the sensitive nub in circles with the rough pad of his thumb. you try to buck against his hand he brings his free arm to sling over your waist, halting your movements. "this won't work if you're moving like that. just let it happen, okay?"

"okay..." you murmur. it's easier said than done.

he stops rubbing at you. he has an even better idea. he leans down on his knees and kisses the spot his finger was just on. you let out a shocked "ah!" much to his dismay.

"gonna have to keep quiet or i'll stop," he says sternly. you promptly bring a hand to cover your mouth.

steve licks long, slow stripes up your cunt, flattening his tongue to cover as much as he can, gaging your reaction. your legs squirm but you can't move them much from the restraint the placement of your panties provide. he takes your bud into his mouth and suck at your clit, humming a little and shaking his head. you squeal against your palm and he pulls away, slapping your cunt.

"i told you to fucking stay quiet! you'll get us both in trouble," he scolds. it's a side of him you've never seen before. usually he's just so sweet to you. however, despite that, his tone sends a tingle in your tummy. you nod in obedience and allow him to continue.

he sticks his tongue inside you and it takes everything within you not to scream. he knows what he's doing too. the best part for him is watching you struggle. you wriggle around, desperately grasping at the firm fabric of the couch. he pulls his tongue out and kisses your clit once more.

"s-steve, i feel.. weird," you tell him, moving your hand for a moment.

"'s okay, just let it go. you'll feel better," he promises gently. his mouth encloses around your clit again and he slurps, flicking it rapidly with his tongue.

"ah, ah." you throw your head back and do what he says: release.

"mmm," he hums, lapping up what you give him.

"that was nice," you say once you catch your breath. "i really liked that. what kind of therapy is that called again?'

"exposure therapy," he lies. "how are the thoughts? are they still there?'

"no," you say in astonishment as you notice. "it's like my mind is all foggy right now? will it stay like that?"

"temporarily, we'll have to explore this some more at your next appointment. i'll make sure to bring something you can take home with you whenever those thoughts are disturbing you, alright?"

"alright."

next appointment. your heart soars. and the thoughts are back once more.

[tlbodine]

Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.