#send me things maybe? it might spark my desire

[daddyricsdoll]

✩ ♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Hello and welcome!! I'm Celina, an aries and aspiring WAG. I love my queen Lana Del Rey, as well as Arctic Monkeys, Måneskin, The neighbourhood and soooo many more! Literature from old poetry to dark romance satisfies me, and after smut, fluff is one of my favourite things to exist. McLaren is my favourite team with Lewis, Lando and Oscar being my favourite drivers. I also love football Liverpool and Real Madrid are my favourite teams.

I also have a side blog where I reblog things that don't relate to F1, like football and Beta Squad. Although I’m not too active on there. But I have recently started writing football fics on here too!!

My requests are closed but you can still send me the kinkiest and unholy thoughts you have, I'm probably thinking them too. Or play it safe with fluff. Things that don’t relate to f1 at all are welcome too and many thanks from everyone who has interacted with my blog. 💗

Fics are oldest-top and newest-bottom.

© Don’t be afraid to reblog or comment but please do not copy my work. I work hard to write and publish it for people on this platform which also means I own it. Majority if not all of it is 18+ so you are warned. I do think it’s best for minors to not interact with the smut, but I can’t stop you like no one could with me. Anyways, I hope you have a stunning day!

1k ✭ Celebration!!

Latest work: Vanilla? ✭ Oscar Piastri

Personal favourites: To Love ✭ Lando Norris and Pleasure ✭ Paul Aron

Most popular: Vanilla? ✭ Oscar Piastri

Lando Norris

Tender ✭ Lando Norris -Smut 0.6k words

Summary: Just a short blurb of smut and some sweet fluff with Lando after playing padel

To Love ✭ Lando Norris- Smut and Fluff 3.7k words

Summary: Lando Norris is easy to love, and how lucky I am that he's mine. These are the five moments that made us feel so much more than just love!

Last Christmas ✭ Lando Norris- Smut 1.9k

Summary: Christmas couldn't be finished without a special present from Lando, maybe more than one.

Masquerade ✭ Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri- Smut 2.2k

Summary: A night at a masquerade ball ended much better than you had ever dreamed of. Starting with two men and one you.

Now ✭ Lando Norris- Smut 1.5k

Summary: The ache between your legs was so strong seeing Lando hold control in the DJ booth at the club. But holding control of Lando also made your pussy drenched. Luckily Lando had a need for you too, and you both planned on conquering those needs.

Stream ✭ Lando Norris- Smut 0.8k

Summary: Lando had left you to stream Fortnite, and a hint of jealously sparked inside of you. But the thought of making him regret that choice, for now and the future, held a more prominent standing.

Touch me ✭ Lando Norris and Ollie Bearman- Smut 2.5k

Summary: After many times of asking you finally said yes to Lando, but with one catch. The innocent virgin Oliver Bearman would be there too.

Two is better than one ✭ Lando Norris and Jude Bellingham- Smut 3.9k

Summary: It was hard to suppress your feelings for your best friend since childhood, especially if he's the Lando Norris. But then you met an alluring man who had made you question if you had loved Lando or if this was an act of lust. Soon growing a desire for both men but still questioning what to do. Until they decided to give you the answer- two is better than one.

Hands and Knees- Suggestive 0.2k

From my 1k celebration! Summary: "If your parents weren't here you'd be on your hands and knees."

Daniel Ricciardo

Ride ✭ Daniel Ricciardo- Smut 1k

Summary: Daniels arm might have stopped him from a few things, but with his good girl willing to do anything and everything to take care of him, he could tick one of the boxes as satisfied.

Good Girl ✭ Daniel Ricciardo- Smut 0.8k

Summary: You wanted to please Daniel, but you didn't know how. Luckily Daniel is a great teacher even from the comfort of his couch and your head between his legs. Plus, he always gives rewards too.

Charles Leclerc

Bigger than the whole sky ✭ Charles Leclerc -angst 0.3k words

Summary: The aftermath of you and Charles' Relationship. He was bigger than the whole sky.

Carlos Sainz

Truth or Dare ✭ Carlos Sainz -Smut 1.5k words

Summary: You go to your best friends house for a distraction, but her boyfriend intrudes on that and you are left alone, until her brother comes along and decides a little game of truth or dare can be a distraction.

Far ✭ Carlos Sainz- Smut 0.8k

Summary: You and Carlos may have been Kilometres apart but that didn't mean you couldn't cum together.

The guy coming home to me ✭ Carlos Sainz- Fluff? 0.7k words

Summary: Investing in a F1 team in the middle of your worldwide tour was very outrageous and threw many questions at you. But of course they didn't know that you happened to date one of the drivers in the team, until a concert in Singapore.

Sebastian Vettel

Clandestine ✭ Sebastian Vettel -Smut 1.1k words

Summary: You lay on your bed masturbating imagining it's your dads young german friend that happens to be downstairs. You moan a little too loud and then someone opens the door.

Oscar Piastri

Soft ✭ Oscar Piastri- Smut 0.5k words

Summary: Some soft sex with Oscar after he won the sprint in Qatar.

Masquerade ✭ Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri-Smut 2.2k

Summary: A night at a masquerade ball ended much better than you had ever dreamed of. Starting with two men and one you.

Good Boy ✭ Oscar Piastri- Smut 1.3k

Summary: You love Oscar so much, especially when he's a good boy and you have control. And for being such a good boy you think Oscar deserves to cum many times.

Sensitive ✭ Oscar Piastri- Smut 0.3k

Summary: Just one more for Oscar, you knew he could take it.

Vanilla? ✭ Oscar Piastri- Smut 1.6k

Summary: It's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest. But that wasn't what every other driver on the grid thought as they teased Oscar and you for being too innocent to know anything beyond vanilla sex. So when you guys didn't put up a fight, they figured they were right... until someone was lucky enough to see you and Oscar on the other end of the spectrum of "plain sex".

Hold you- Fluff 0.2k

This is part of my 1k celebration! Summary: "Can I hold you?"

Ollie Bearman

First ✭ Ollie Bearman- Smut 1.1k words

Summary: Ollie deserves a reward after that amazing win in Monza.

Friends? ✭ Ollie Bearman- Smut 1.9k

Summary: You and Ollie were just friends, no matter how much your feelings grew or your need for his lips against yours. Well that was what you thought when you found someone else to put your mind to for the evening, but maybe not with Ollie's furrowed brows and glares.

Sweet ✭ Ollie Bearman- Smut 0.9k words

Summary: Watching a Christmas movie together turns into riding Ollie, and it's just as sweet as the hot chocolate he made.

My turn ✭ Ollie Bearman- Smut 0.6k words

Summary: You won your first race and now it's Ollie's turn to reward you.

Hate but I love you too ✭ Ollie Bearman - Smut 2.7k words

Summary: From when he ignored you then nearly kissed your lips. Or never said sorry to begging for you. Oliver was a rollercoaster of emotions and it's safe to say- It took hate to love him.

You ✭ Ollie Bearman- Smut 1k

Summary: You had adapted to what Ollie needed but recently you had noticed there was something else, and obviously you planned on conquering it.

Benefits ✭ Ollie Bearman- Smut 1k

Summary: Going to Ollie's home for dinner is easy. But being friends like this, has its benefits. In this case Ollie wanted his time home to be better than it already was, starting in his sim chair.

Touch me ✭ Lando Norris and Ollie Bearman- Smut 2.5k

Summary: After many times of asking you finally said yes to Lando, but with one catch. The innocent virgin Oliver Bearman would be there too.

How much I love you- Fluff 0.3k

From my 1k celebration! Summary: "You have no clue how much I love you."

Max Verstappen

You know ✭ Max Verstappen- Smut 1.9k

Summary: Max got his 3rd world title and he had an idea on how to celebrate.

False God ✭ Max Verstappen- Smut 4.5k

Summary: Being lost spiritually isn't something you can brag about, but finding a new belief in someone is. From that alluring man in the F1 paddock to finding out he's the Max Verstappen didn't effect you as much as discovering his lips are your new religion even if it's a false god.

George Russell

Quiet ✭ George Russell- Smut 1.1k

Summary: Maybe it was because you were proud, or maybe it was because he was yours. But you needed him, in more ways than one, starting in the car.

Lewis Hamilton

Please ✭ Lewis Hamilton- Smut 2.1k

Summary: You were supposed to celebrate Lewis's great P2 until you found out about the disqualification and he just needed something else.

Shut up- Smut 0.4k

From my 1k celebration! Summary: "Do you ever shut up?" "Only when I'm eating you out."

Liam Lawson

Little celebration ✭ Liam Lawson- Smut 0.7k

Summary: There was no doubt everyone beamed with smiles after Liam scored his maiden points in F1, which meant the race debrief between the two of you couldn't be the same as others. And you made sure of that.

Paul Aron

Pleasure ✭ Paul Aron- Smut 1.3k

Summary: Paul had the opportunity to drive a beautiful car, and have a beautiful passenger next to him. So why not make the most of it?

Jude Bellingham

Two is better than one ✭ Lando Norris and Jude Bellingham- Smut 3.9k

Summary: It was hard to suppress your feelings for your best friend since childhood, especially if he's the Lando Norris. But then you met an alluring man who had made you question if you had loved Lando or if this was an act of lust. Soon growing a desire for both men but still questioning what to do. Until they decided to give you the answer- two is better than one.

More coming soon... but while you wait you can look at some wallpapers!

[l0serloki]

Showtime

JPM x Reader

Summary : You and Liz brainstorm how to spice things up in the bedroom with your husband.. It is a definite success.

CW : SMUT, fem!reader, reader calls james ‘mr.march’, spanking, choking, praise kink, pet names (queen/doll/dear/good girl), biting & marking, rough sex, creampie

A/N : this might not be great but I was rewatching hotel and his cane gave me ideas... 

It had been quite a while since you and Liz had a talk. You settled down to gossip with your close friend. 

“Y/N, it’s been a while. I thought you would have forgotten about me.” Liz smirked.

“How could I ever! I’ve just been so busy with James and the new.. arrivals. Devil’s Night was such a chore.” You droned on, complaining about how much screaming there was over the course of the night.

“Well that’s to be expected. How are you and James anyways?” 

How were you and James? You were fine, splendid actually, but something seemed off. You had thought about it quite a lot this week, coming to the conclusion you needed something to spice up your sex life.

“Good! I just.. I don’t know.” You shrugged and Liz gave you the side eye, setting her book on the counter.

“You don’t know? Darling, are you alright?” 

You nodded as she took your hands, giving them a tight squeeze.

“Yes! Don’t worry! I just want to.. spice things up with him. I feel as though he will get bored of me. I want to get something nice for him but I can’t think of what.” 

Liz tapped her lips with a pen, her eyes raising as she thought of an idea.

“Y/N, have you ever worn any fancy lingerie for him? Maybe put on a little show?” 

Your mind sparked with the idea and you shook your head.

“No! Where would I even get that? That would be perfect.” 

Liz waved you away from the kiosk, already getting to planning.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get you a nice set to surprise your dear Mr.March.”

—

Liz had done exactly what she promised, going out and buying quite a lovely lingerie set for you. It framed your body perfectly, only adding to your confidence. You slipped your casual clothes over the garments, making your way down the hall. You knew James would be busy with his plans for next year's event.

Your fingers curled around the doorknob, opening it to meet your husbands face. You jumped at the proximity, not expecting him to be so close.

“My dear! I was just coming to fetch you.” His smooth accent sailed through the air, sending currents down your spine. Your finger trailed at his suit hoping to give him the same reaction. 

“Were you? Guess I have good timing then.. Mr.March.” You trailed around his form, hands feeling up the taut muscles. His body shook with excitement from the teases, hands coming to clamp down on your wrists.

“Yes.. It seems you were longing for me as much as I was for you.” His suave smirk made heat pool in your stomach, hands starting to roam your shirt. Your breath quickened as his fingers trailed under the the material. His eyes widened when he pawed at the lace that was hidden.

“My my.. What is it that my dear doll has on?” He frisked away at your shirt, abandoning it on the floor without a care. His chestnut hues wracked in the sight of your ample flesh dawned with the silky lace. His wild smile only added to your carnal desire, making you tremble with pleasure.

“You like it? It’s all for you, Mr.March.” 

His deep hum filled the silence. 

“I do, dear. This is quite the surprise. Step out of those pants and bend over so I can see the whole thing.” His voice was dark and filled with lust. You knew exactly where this was headed. 

You followed instructions, popping your ass out so he could get the full view of your body. You felt as if you were on fire. His eyes followed your every curve, searing it into his memory. His rough hand gripped at his cane, holding back at what he wanted.

“You’ve given me such a good present, my pretty girl. I can’t believe you would hide this from me. I think you deserve a punishment, no?” 

You could only moan in response, desperate for any kind of touch he could give you. He seemed to like your response, shoveling you against the desk. Your perky ass was still stuck out for him, waiting for his move. You waited for what felt like forever until a long smack hit. Your breath left your mouth as you shook, your ass cheeks swelling against the wood. The metal tip of his cane brushed at your entrance, prodding at the wet spot on your panties.

“Someone enjoys being spanked with a cane? What a naughty girl..” James laughed, your squirming not going unnoticed. His hand smacked against your sore cheek and you bounced at the contact.

“Be good and take a few more. Then we can get to the fun part.” 

You nodded as he continued his assault on your ass, tears welling in your eyes at the pain and pleasure. Your body was practically screaming for him, arousal pooling on your thighs. 

His cane hit for the last time and then he was everywhere at once. His greedy hands yanked at your ruined panties, revealing your poor pussy. 

“God. I need you!” You moaned out as his fingers teased across your thighs, coming dangerously close to your entrance. His thumb pressed against your slick, making a mess of you. He toyed your clit, rubbing at it a few times before puling away. You groaned at the loss of contact, turning to see why he had stopped. James fumbled with his belt, hands jittering with energy. He gave you a grin, lips licking at the arousal on his finger,

“My queen, you’ve been so obedient tonight.. I shall give you what you wish.”

James’ cock rubbed against your folds, slowly pushing in. It felt as if everything else faded as he bottomed out, his calloused hands coming to grip at your neck. His thrusts gained pace as your moans got louder, alerting anyone near his room of what you were up to.

He was animalistic. Lips biting and marking at your skin, smacks blown across any flesh he could reach. His other hand choked you out, watching from the side as your eyes grew larger.

You felt your air leaving as his pace went erratic, the string inside you so close to snapping.

“I-I’m gonna cum. So close, baby.” You strangled out.

James snarled, his hands rough enough to leave marks for the next few days. His cock twitched inside of you, egging you on.

“Cum. Cum for me, darling.” He goaded and you did as told, eyes rolling back at the euphoria he gave. His ruts finally stopped and thick ribbons of white filled you. 

You spun around and snorted at your husbands tired face. He leaned in to kiss the top of your nose, hands pulling you into an embrace.

“That was a night to remember, dear. We should do this more often.”

[maries-gallery]

genre: nsfw, mdni

summary: Clavis doesn't care that Cyran is behind the door and that he can hear you. As long as he gets to take care of you and make you moan his name.

warnings: thigh riding, dirty talk, bondage, mentions of overstimulation and edging, mentions of dacryphilia, female bodied reader

wc: 1k

star banner by the lovely @/saradika

For more content like this, check the masterlist <3

Clavis’s golden eyes flicker with mischief as he tugs on the silken restraints behind your back, your wrists tied together. One of his hands holding onto your thigh as you sit on his leg, spread out for him and so vulnerable to his ministrations. Bare cunt rubbing over the fabric of his trousers. 

Perfect. 

Indeed, as if there is one thing Clavis cannot get enough of it is the sight of you flushed and wanton for him. So desperate and needy for his touch as you grind down on his leg, muffled whimpers falling from your parted lips. Left alone to chase after your release on your lover’s thigh. 

“Feels good, darling?” He asks, voice laced with amusement and an edge of desire. Even the teasing smile on his lips cannot hide the fire roaring inside of him, not from you. “I bet it does considering how wet my little treasure is.” 

Heat rises to your cheeks as your eyes travel down to the wet smudge your entrance left on Clavis’s proper ironed trousers. You want to disappear, to hide from his all-too-happy gaze.

Or maybe you want to drown in it? In the pleasure and the desperate need for more. 

Maybe you don’t care about the fact you’ve ruined his trousers. Not when rubbing your wet cunt up and down his thigh sends spark in your vision and turns you into a pool of molten desire. Lean muscles flexing underneath you in the most pleasurable way possible. 

But Cyran is just behind this door, guarding-

Your teeth sink into your lower lip as another piercing moan threatens to slip from your tongue. But Clavis won’t have any of that, not when your moans are his favourite sound. 

He bounces his leg up against your drenched entrance, stealing a high pitched whimper from you. And oh, how he loves it, your voice the sweetest of melodies in his ears. Even more so when it is tainted by pleasure. 

“You know I love these sounds you make, darling.” He leans in, his breath hot on the shell of your ear and a shiver runs up your spine, long fingers tightening their hold on your thighs, “Surely you can give your dear Clavis more of those? If you do, I might let you come undone.” 

“You might?!” 

Oh how amusing you are, so adorable when you look at him with these eyes, fear of being denied yet another release apparent on your features. But you should know better, your sweet Clavis always gives you what you desire in the end. He is a gentleman after all and never one to deny his darling love for long. 

“You will, if you continue to sing for me.” His lips travel up your throat, tongue leaving a patch of wet skin in its wake. And you tremble under him. 

“But-But-” You try to shake off the daze of pleasure, try to keep your head cool as you melt under him. Even as your head tilts back to grant him an easier access to the sensitive patch of skin behind your ear. 

“Cyran?” He asks, smiling mischievously against your skin, “You see, love, I might be too selfish for other men to see this look on your face, but I am not selfish enough to keep them from hearing you calling my name. Not if it means I get to hear you.”

He punctuates by tugging on your restraints, stealing a yelp from you. Hand guiding you over his thigh amused by the whimper that falls from your lips as your clit catches on the fabric of his trousers. 

“Now, do you want to come undone for me?” He asks, amber eyes observing your pleasure ridden features, brows drawn together and teeth clumping down on your lower lip to stifle a whine. You know it is useless at this point though. 

You nod, a shiver running up your spine as both his hands fall on your hips, keeping you down flush against his thigh as he bounces his leg on the ball of his foot. Just the extra stimulation you needed for your thoughts to blur and words to melt into incomprehensible blabbers.

“There, those are the sounds I wanted to hear. But I think you can get even louder for me.” He says, and he knows you are in no condition to answer as you drag your wet entrance over his thigh, leaving another wet smudge of arousal behind you, to Clavis’s greatest pleasure. 

A moan of his name escapes your throat as he bends down to take one of your pert nipples between his teeth, a hand leaving your hip to cup your naked cunt, fingers playing with your sensitive bundle of nerves to steal yet another cry of his name from you.

“Go ahead, darling, come for me.”  He encourages as your hips buck against his palm. His words the only invitation you need for your release to ripple through you, jolts of sweet electricity running through you as the coil in your stomach snaps in tendrils of heat. 

“Ah-! Unggh- Cla-Clavis!” 

“There you are,” He soothes, guiding you through your high with quick flickers of his finger on your clit. 

He is not done though, bouncing you on his lap again, well intent on having you melting for him all over again, on having you crying and moaning out croaked whispers of his name. Each release shatters you only for his sweet ministrations to piece you back together until your next high. 

But Clavis is gentle, kisses your brow with a loving smile on his lips as tears gather in your eyes, pleasure ripping through you faster than you see it coming. Until nothing is left and your mind is blank for all things but his name. 

He cups your cheek, gentle as he gazes into your eyes and places a kiss to your lips, “Thank you for this, you did so well for me.” A part of him feels guilty for pushing you so far, but another part sighs with relief when you flash him a tired smile. 

He returns it, pressing another tender kiss to your hairline, “Now let’s get you cleaned up.” 

taglist: @aquagirl1978 @randonauticrap @rhodolitesrose @pockcock @ikemen-writer @ikesimp100 @veervers @venulus @otomehoneyybearr @elleplaysotome @cellophanediamond @myonlyjknight @citizensofcradle @itealyou @keithsandwich @chirp-a-chirp @nuclear-frog @kalims-pessimist-bestie

[hederasgarden]

I'll Be Your Fantasy

Summary: Rhett helps you play out a new fantasy.  Pairing Rhett Abbott x F!Reader  Word Count: 2.4K Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Consensual non consent role play, rope bondage, chase kink,  strong breeding kink, fingering, and unprotected PIV sex.  A/N: Sequel to The Trouble with Books. Thank you @mayhem24-7forever and @callsign-phoenixf or beta’ing. @callsignhurricane made the beautiful banner. Reblogs and comments feed the muse.

You feel a little ridiculous wandering around in the dark, wearing one of those god-awful prairie dresses from Target and an old pair of cowboy boots. Dressing up for the part seemed like a fun idea at the time but now you just feel silly. You rub your hands over your arms and shiver. It’s cool out tonight and the waning moon provides very little light to see by, though the stars are beautiful and bright.

Somewhere far in the distance you hear a cowdog howl and the flutter of wings in the trees past the fence line. Every little sound makes you jump and look around, trying to determine where Rhett might be hiding. Although you discussed your limits and concerns in minute detail with him, he kept this part purposefully vague. Just told you to take a walk in the west pasture.

That was nearly 15 minutes ago.

"You look lost, darlin."

You start at the sound of Rhett's voice, an even stronger drawl to his words than normal. Squinting into the darkness, you search for him but find nothing. You know he’s close and that thought sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

“You’re far too pretty to be walking around these parts by yourself,” he continues. A branch snaps and bushes rustle nearby. “Liable to get snatched up by something awful."

Your brow furrows, his wording was vaguely familiar. Wait, was he actually quoting the dialogue to you?

"I'm just uh lost, sir," you say. It’s not the exact line but it was close enough. “Can you help me?” You ask, feeling ridiculous at how rote the words sound coming from you compared to Rhett.

A little seed of doubt and anxiety settle in your stomach. You wonder suddenly if maybe this was going to be better in theory than practice. You’d been looking forward to this for weeks, taking your time to plan it and research it with Rhett. Just the act of talking about it had been enough to get the two of you going most nights but now you felt silly. There was nothing sexy about two idiots standing in a field quoting bad dialogue.

"I think I’d like to help myself instead,'' comes his voice, closer this time. You spin around and take a step back directly into a pair of strong arms that lock around your stomach. “You’d make a fine wife for my homestead," Rhett purrs in your ear.

That line, one of your favorites from the book, sends a shiver of desire down your spine, and does the trick of dislodging that lingering awkwardness you feel. Your eyes flutter, taking in his familiar musk as he drags his nose down the side of your throat, lips following after. The cool air on your wet skin makes you moan.

When Rhett speaks next his voice is soft, the tone familiar to you. “Think this is the part where you struggle,” he prompts.

“Oh,” you say and he laughs quietly. “Sorry,” you whisper, feeling just a little bad when you drop your elbow back with enough force to make him grunt and loosen his hold.

You slip from his arms and take off running along the fence line, letting it guide you. There’s a new kind of thrill that zips through your body when you hear Rhett come after you, his footfalls heavy and breathing labored. It blooms under your skin, igniting a spark of anticipation and want. You hardly feel the cold air in your lungs or the way your muscles burn as you run to escape him.

He’ll have you soon, stronger and faster than you are and with a body bred for this type of endurance. Yours was meant for soft things and there’s no way you’ll outrun him, but you are determined to make him work for it. To earn you. The thought of him breathless and ravenous for you is enough to give you an extra push.

“Come back here, girl,” he pants, voice ringing out in the air.

He closes in on you a second later, his fingertips grazing your shoulder. You bank sharply to the right and the surprise move leaves him scrambling. He curses under his breath, sounding angry and that sends a sharp wave of desire through your core. You both know he’ll have you soon, your pace already slowing due to exhaustion.

You start to look over your shoulder when his heavy weight knocks into you, sending you both to the ground. Rhett rolls at the last minute, taking the brunt of the impact so you end up laying on top of him. You’re both panting, breathing hard but before you can blink he has you under him, your wrists in a solid hold. His grip is firmer than you expect, almost bordering on painful. When you tug against it there’s no give and he smirks down at you.

“Got nowhere to go,” he tells you.

He shifts down your body to kneel over you, his knees on either side of your thighs.

“Let go of me,” you yell, thrashing under him.

Your legs kick out and you try to twist your body to escape him but it’s no use. He’s stronger than you in every way and that realization sends a rush of something sweet and sharp between your legs. You scream and you can see for a second that the sound surprises him. He’s quick to go along with it though, pressing his free hand against your mouth to muffle your cries.

“Stop your fussin',” he grits out. “This is happening.”

It’s a heady feeling to have him use his full strength against you and to realize just how powerful your sweet boyfriend truly is. Even better is knowing he’d stop the moment you told him to. The thrill of that renews your fight and you thrash your head back and forth a few more times before finally quieting down. You’re trembling all over in excitement, gazing up at him as you wait for his next move.

“That’s a good girl,” Rhett says and oh, that deep drawl he affects goes straight to your core. “You gonna be quiet if I remove my hand?”

You nod and breathe in deeply after his hand disappears from your mouth. He strokes your jaw and throat tenderly. “Color?” He whispers.

“Green,” you tell him, trading a soft smile with him.

He nods and leans back. The only sign you’re resuming your game is when that sweet expression on his face evaporates into something darker. You start to struggle again but he’s quicker, grasping one shoulder and bunching the fabric of your dress at your waist with the other. With a grunt he pulls hard, forcing you to roll on your stomach. Your arms are trapped under your body. He pries each one out, holding them to the small of your back. When you feel the rough spun rope wrap around your wrists you press your thighs together and jerk your hips forward, a little moan falling from your lips.

"Time to break you in,” he tells you, groping down your side to get a handful of your ass.

“Please, don’t,” you beg, the illusion ruined by the way you roll your hips against the ground, seeking something to ease your need.

“Keep begging, girl. I like those sounds,” he tells you.

He shifts his weight, pinning you to the ground while he moves lower and gets a knee between your thighs. He nudges them apart until he can kneel between your splayed legs. The hand on your wrists disappears and you tug at the rope but nothing happens. Rhett’s an expert at this and you’re trapped until he cuts you free.

“I wanna see that sweet little cunt,” he continues, grabbing the hem of your dress and wrenching hard, splitting the fabric and baring you to his gaze. You purposely didn’t wear underwear, a fact you neglected to tell him. His response is a soft little inhale of surprise that you love.

You groan when you feel his fingers slipping through your folds. You’re already ridiculously wet from the chase and his filthy words. You hardly need any help from him to grow slick enough to take him.

“S-stop,” you moan.

“We’ll stop when I want,” he tells you, gripping your thigh and forcing your legs wider.

Somewhere between the first and second finger you’ve ceased your struggles, pushing back greedily for more. He hasn’t even touched your clit but you’re coming anyway with a low whine. Behind you he chuckles, pulling his hand free. You hear him lick his fingers clean, a satisfied hum resonating in his throat.

“Color?” He asks.

“Green, so green,” you tell him, making him laugh softly.

He strokes your lower back and you sigh, relaxing until the clink off his belt buckle sets off another wave of want. You tug at the ropes, trying to lift your chest off the ground. A hand on the back of your neck stops you and he tuts in warning.

“Get on your knees,” he commands.

“No, please don’t,” you beg, gasping when he delivers a harsh smack to your ass.

“Gonna teach you to listen to me like a good wife should. Knees, girl,” he says again.

In the book there was more begging but you’re too desperate to have his cock in you to prolong the game any further. The second you rise up, one of his hands grips your bound wrists and the other settles on your hip. He wastes no time burying himself inside you with a single powerful thrust that dredges up a deep moan from your chest. He feels so good and your eyes close, mouth hanging open while he fucks you, hard and fast.

"You'll take me like this every night," he groans, grinding himself inside you. "Pliant and sweet."

“No,” you say weakly, your hands curling into a fist as he plunges in and out of you without pause.

"Gonna fuck a baby into you every chance I get," he moans, curling his body over yours. You clench hard at that line. Even though it’s not from the book, you don’t mind because it’s working for you. “Keep you so fucking full of me.”

“Yes, Rhett, yes,” you moan, all pretense of playing your part gone.

You're lost in the sensations he’s creating, the rough drag of his cock in and out of your cunt, and how he uses the grip on your wrists to bring your body back to meet his thrusts. You feel free, lighter than you ever have before. There are no choices here for you but one, to let him use you how he wants and needs.

“Fuck,” Rhett grunts, his thrusts growing sloppy and erratic. He’s close and so are you.

“Please,” you beg, teetering on the edge of that sharp cliff that will give you everything you want. Then he suddenly stills. A broken little sob falls from your lips. You need him so badly.

“Easy, girl.” He’s panting hard and you push back at him desperately. “Gonna try something, alright?”

You nod, trembling all over. Rhett shifts back onto his haunches and grasps your bound wrists. He tugs you back towards him until you’re half seated on his lap and then he wraps an arm around your middle, holding you tightly to him. You inhale sharply, the new position lodging his cock deeper inside you. Rhett trails his lips down the side of your throat,mouthing at that juncture between your neck and shoulder. You wiggle your hips and whine.

“Please, Rhett. I need, I need,” you babble, your words cut off when he jerks up into you.

The move jostles your whole body and your hands, trapped between your back and his chest, grasp at the material of his shirt. Rhett keeps pumping up into you, and that combined with the fingers that drop to play with your clit have you coming hard on his cock, your whole body locking up with a delirious kind of pleasure. He groans against your skin and a second later you feel him come in a hot rush. You swirl your hips, grinding on him to prolong your ecstasy. He responds by sinking his teeth into your skin hard enough to leave a mark and make you shudder. It’s everything you need, you never want it to end but eventually, he pulls his teeth from your neck and stills your hips, sounding pained.

“Color?” He asks, hoarsely.

“Green,” you reply, just as breathless.

“I’m gonna cut the ropes, alright?”

You nod, sighing in relief when you’re free. You rub your wrists, knowing without looking that the skin is probably irritated. Even though there’s an ache in your shoulders as well, you don’t mind, your body’s still humming with pleasure. Rhett rubs your arms and nuzzles your cheek.

“Gonna stand you up, okay?” He asks, waiting for your verbal response before moving.

It’s awkward getting to your feet and you wince as he slides out of you. A trickle of cum seeps from your core. When you sway on your legs Rhett steadies you, holding on tightly until you’ve got your footing. Then he walks around to face you, smiling. You return it, feeling a little embarrassed but happy.

“I brought some wipes and a change of clothes for you, but it’s a ways back. You made it farther than I thought,” he says, sounding amused. “The feint at the last moment was clever.”

“Mmm,” you agree. “I couldn’t make it easy on you.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he says, grasping your chin and pulling you towards him for a long, slow kiss.

When you part, you grin up at him. “All that baby talk part was new,” you say.

“Seemed to fit the part,” he tells you, scratching his jaw and looking away. “You have your kinks and I have mine.”

"Do you want to put a baby in me Rhett Abbott?"You ask, amused.

"Maybe. What if I did want that?" He returns, making a steady kind of eye contact that has your belly flipping over.

"Wouldn't mind it," you whisper back.

"I'd have to make you my wife first," he says, pulling you towards his body. His fingers stroke along your lower back as he gazes at you. "Not just for our little game. A ring and a real wedding, I reckon."

“I reckon you should,” you tell him, curling your arm over his shoulder and pulling him down to kiss you again.

✥

@mayhem24-7forever gets all the credit for this line: “You have your kinks and I have mine.”

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[the-s1lly-corner]

Hey hey, I’m not entirely sure if Yandere type stuff is against the rules or not since it’s not specifically stated but I’m feelin a little possessive >:)

Can I request an LJ x a possessive!Reader who is willing to do anything to keep him in their possession? Even going so far as to shove him into that little box for a way longer period of time than he’d probably like

If you’re not willing to do this ask feel free to delete! Your content is awesome and I like the way you headcanon clown boy :)

Laughing Jack x possessive!reader !

usually i would turn down requests like this but this did spark some unique ideas that i dont think i would otherwise explore or talk about so uhuh! going to try to end this on a good/happier note simply because i dont.. like the idea of this being a cycle of things, you know? or at least there will be an attempt naturally this isnt going to be my standard cute and sweet writing stuff </3 actually the first chunk of it is lightly touching on jacks personal trauma

okokokok so the main idea that got me thinking was like. i think jack actually hates being stuck in his box, at least for extended periods of time or being forced to stay inside. i think a lot of this stems from the fact he was abandoned, and thus in the box for... how long was it? at least some decades... that messes with someone; including someone as silly and joyous as the clown

so i think, even after he kind of gets all warm and fuzzy feeling'ed about being so wanted and desire by his partner (remember, abandonment issues, you being absolutely all over him helps reassure him that youre not going to be going anywhere.. hopefully), those other issues start to peak in

at first he might think its a game when you try to keep him in his box for longer, be it because youre out and about with it or youre physically pushing him in the box because that way you yourself are reassured that hes still here... or some other scenario...

treats it lightly the first few times but as you try to keep him inside more and more hes going to start pushing back; whether that be physically or emotionally

knowing jack its going to be more physical. not to make it sound like he hits you, but i do think he would forcefully eject himself from the box which in turn might send you back a bit

obviously, like most other problems he might try to laugh it off, but thats not a solution... so its just going to keep going and possibly get worse

eventually its going to come to a head and hes probably going to start hiding his box so you cant try to shove him in it... or he might just outright try to stop using it... i mean its not like he would die without (winks)

(jkjk he can live outside of it but new hc, jack will die if his box is destroyed.. though its more durable than your standard box)

(which... makes me wonder how jack feels about his own mortality. maybe he doesnt know that if it breaks hes done for? might tackle that in another post tbh)

if either of you want any hope of the relationship carrying on, or for lack of a better wording... for the human party to keep existing (because jack is not above offing those he deems himself close to) (cough cough isaac) then you are both going to have to set very firm boundaries and try to find the root to why youre so possessive of him and find ways to cope and find healthier alternatives to... trying to confine him

[tinted-skies]

my first or last?

Mark `~ first.

He'd be your first and he'd make you feel as if you were his first as well (even if that weren't the case).

He would take you out whenever he found the time to and always ask for permission before kissing you or taking your hand in his... wholesome boy™, would never take you for granted.

You could swear he was the boy you were meant to grow old with but his insecurities would get the best of him. Was he holding you back? Were you with him just because you had no ex to compare him to?

Mark would refrain himself from ever being your last because he believed you deserved someone better than him.

Renjun `~ last.

After too many failed first encounters, you were now 30+ years old, working a random day job with no desire to start a romantic relationship whatsoever.

But unfortunately for you, the moment you decided to give up on love, the universe decided to send you cute coworker!Renjun to prove you that there is still hope after all.

He was kind, sweet and loveable but also very determined - hence why he didn't beat around the bush, asking you on a date quickly after he realised his feelings for you. Cue the start of a beautiful relationship that would last years to come <3

Renjun would be the reason you believe in love again.

Jeno `~ last.

Opposed to Mark, I believe Jeno's insecurity would be towards you (due to rough past relationships) and he'd fear that you wouldn't reciprocate his level of affection. However, after endless reassurance about how you felt for him, he was finally able to let down his guard.

Now you'd spend the rest of your days being followed around by a big baby who wants nothing more than to bear hug you and give you some cookies!!

This may be a weird thing to say, but in my eyes Jeno is a very responsible person when it comes to other people's feelings, so he'd find great joy in taking care of you and making sure you were happy all the time - aka the perfect last.

You and Jeno would have an happily ever after type of love.

Haechan `~ first.

Listen... *sighs*... he's a gemini.

I think Haechan would love to be your first, you might not have been his first but that didn't make things any less exciting for him. He'd have fun showing you new stuff and taking you on little adventures and everything would be so cute and chill but also intense because you'd both be so drawn to each other. But then, one day, he'd probably just get bored of it all.

And it doesn't mean he doesn't love you anymore (because he DOES), but the spark just isn't there anymore and he likes to live life always searching for that spark, you know?

I think it'd depend on the time you'd start dating tho. Maybe there would come a time when he'd want to settle and find a bit of stability, choosing to stay with you, as long as you promised to search for that spark alongside him.

Haechan would be your exciting and passionate first love.

Jaemin `~ last.

Hear me out, if I had to pick any dreamie to write a soulmate!au it would be this man right here. Childhood friends to lovers!au <333

In a perfect life you would have noticed the huge crush Jaemin had had on you all through highschool, and he would have been your first AND last. But due to your density college!Jaemin pushed his feelings aside, blaming it all on the raging hormones puberty came with (LIAR)

Although life sometimes got in the way, the world always seemed to put you two back together, and after years of trying to convince himself he was over you, he finally said "fuck it" and risked it all by confessing his feelings for you.

When you revealed you felt the same way, a weight lift off of his shoulders, feeling dumb for not having talked to you sooner. Little did you know that you'd be with him for the rest of your life, leaving you with plenty of time to make up for it.

Jaemin would love you through thick and thin, he'd want to be your first and last.

Chenle `~ last.

Chenle wouldn't give a shit if he was your first or last, he was  living his life and just happened to come across you (and well now he happens to be stuck with you forever 🙃)

He'd be a super chill but also very responsible partner, taking care of your financial bills, possessions, insurances... *insert other economic stuff idk shit about* He'd show his love through little acts of service but would never shy away from an opportunity to shout to the world just how much he loved you.

You'd be a great team. He had always seen relationships as something stable and long-lasting, instead of passionate and intense (contrasting with Mr. Lee Haechan).

Chenle would be the laidback but very caring type of last.

Jisung `~ first.

Let's be honest this boy would be a nervous wreck, and chances are you wouldn't be much better.

Jisung was probably one of those people who'd start a relationship still not knowing exactly who he was and what he wanted. So I believe his first love wouldn't be his last because he needed to grow and find himself.

However, I think if you broke up and later in life found him (and you were both single), he'd be up for another try, basking in the way both of you had grown so much and become more aware and determined.

Jisung would be the one to regret finding you first.

[dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night]

Eden VAU part three

TW: blood, wounds, scars, blood loss, captivity, pet whumpee, bloodbag whumpee, multiple whumpees, creepy/intimate whumper, multiple whumpers

Ezra awoke wrapped up in Christopher's arms. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing only darkness.

Judging by his sense of touch alone, he was still laying in his bed, and at some point after sunset Christopher had cuddled up under his blankets.

In his weary state, Ezra simply laid still, not announcing his consciousness to Christopher. To his vague surprise, he found cuddling with him very pleasant. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this close to anyone else.

Chill lips pressed to the back of Ezra's neck, granting some relief to the built up body warmth trapped beneath the fur blankets.

"Good evening," Christopher whispered in Ezra's ear. "How did you rest?"

"Good evening." Ezra yawned, cuddling closer to Christopher. "I slept well."

Logically, he knew that he should be afraid of a vampire, especially in such close quarters. But after the ordeal of last night, softened and blurred by the first good sleep Ezra had experienced in over a month, he found himself accepting his situation far too readily.

He couldn't feasibly escape, and he needed to stay on Christopher's good side. It seemed a mutually beneficial arrangement for the time being.

Christopher would keep Ezra around for companionship, and possibly his blood. Ezra had received mixed signals on the second point. And in return Ezra would have a place to live and good food to eat, without having to work fifty hours a week.

It couldn't last. Ezra had to escape eventually, or convince Christopher to let him go. Then he would run. Run to the nearest phone booth. God, he had never used a phone booth. Perhaps he was close enough to just run back to his apartment.

Part of him wanted to keep a record of his time spent as Christopher's captive. This could sell big time.

But he didn't have a journal, or anything else to keep note on. He didnt know shorthand to keep it secret. And he didn't have his own Mina Murray, someone to send letters to and keep his spirits up with the thought of.

Truthfully, Ezra was soul crushingly lonely. Christopher was the closest person in the world he had to a friend. Which was just about the most pathetic thing he could think of, even amid the general ongoing, never ceasing patheticness of his life.

But how long was he going to stay a prisoner here? A few days would be a nice break from reality. A few weeks would lose him his job, but might cure some of his mental health issues. A few months would spark a missing person investigation, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was police. A few years would destroy his desire to escape, and prove it wholly impossible.

He couldn't imagine spending decades with Christopher, or even centuries. God, that was a terrifying possibility.

"Are you going to lay here all night?" Christopher asked.

Ezra groaned softly. "Yes sir."

Christopher chuckled. "Very well. I will make you food when you are ready."

"Thank you sir. Mmm, this is nice."

"You're very warm." Christopher kissed the top of Ezra's head. "Thank you for allowing me. And I apologize for coming in while you were slumbering. Very rude."

"Oh feel free," Ezra said, far too sleepy to think his words over. "I don't mind."

"Thank you, my darling Ezra."

They laid in warmth and silence for over an hours, perhaps two or three. Ezra had never been the best judge of time.

"Alright," he finally groaned. "I have got to get up and stretch."

Christopher moved the blankets, stood up, and helped Ezra to his feet. Ezra stretched, his back cracking marvelously.

"Maybe I should have a bath then something to eat, if that's okay."

"Of course, my dear Ezra. I will start on cooking if you would like to run a bath."

Ezra held onto Christopher's arm as they walked down the hall, a little dizzy. Probably from stress, same as the dull throbbing headache.

He knew that a steaming hot bath might make the dizziness worse, but that didn't stop him from drawing one while Christopher's footsteps faded out of hearing.

Well, lowering himself into the hot water lowered his stress tremendously, even if he was still dizzy. He didn't bother washing his hair, just waking himself up properly and scrubbing the sweat from his body.

All of his provided clothing was soft and cozy, pajamas in different colors and styles, all lacking buttons or zippers.

Comfort was such a subjective thing, so Ezra had no idea how Christopher knew his taste so utterly. Not to mention how a vampire of over four hundred years knew about binders and being transgender.

On that last point, Ezra supposed that he had argued of transgender people always having existed on enough occasions to warrant their existence in seventeenth century Russia.

Looking through the small black box full of straight razors, scissors, files, and nail clippers he hadn't noticed yesterday, Ezra fought the strong impulse to cut his hair without a mirror.

This impulse usually popped up in his own bathroom at three in the morning, and he supposed this situation seemed close enough for his brain to supply him with it. What time was it, anyway?

This new annoyance in lacking a mirror was yet another reason to add Jonathan Harker to his kin list on Tumblr, right next to Narcissus, who was also there for the bit.

Ezra found Christopher sitting up the the kitchen table, with food already laid out. It smelled amazing, and was oddly American compared to yesterday's dinner.

Bacon, pancakes, and grape juice. Orange juice would have been more typical, but Ezra couldn't stand the texture.

"Thank you sir."

Ezra sat down to eat. It tasted as good as it smelled, and he realized how much he had been missing out on actually cooked foods in his regular life when he binge ate junk half the time.

"Am I allowed to ask your for something, sir?"

"You are always allowed to ask questions or make requests, but I am under no obligation to answer or provide you with what you want. Is that in fairness?"

"Yes sir." Ezra took a sip of grape juice. "I would like a mirror. I know you probably didn't think of it, but not being able to see my reflection is inconvenient."

Christopher blinked in surprise. "I was under the impression that you disliked seeing your looks in mirrors and taken pictures. Was I mistaken?"

"Oh, well...usually I don't like the way I look. But a mirror does come in handy sometimes, for brushing my hair and what have you."

"I will have no problem acquiring one. I do understand from what direction your statements come. Though I have grown very used to it."

Ezra heard the door creak open, and turned to see a man stumbling into the kitchen on trembling legs, his gaze held firmly to the floor in front of him. He looked to be in his forties, but the dried blood on his face and neck, tangled locks of blond hair, and the darkness of the room made it hard to tell.

"Oh," Christopher said. "Hello."

The man looked up, a look of pure terror etched on his face, his body shaking far worse than it had before.

Christopher stood up with a closed lip smile, and offered him a supporting hand as to prevent him from falling over.

Ezra's mind reeled, trying to come up with any possible explanation. He hadn't been aware of any other people in the house. How many were there exactly? Were there other vampires?

It didn't seem feasible that Christopher, so terribly sweet and loving, was capable of harming someone so brutally as the many fang marks, now visible as Christopher moved the man closer to the table, would suggest.

Ezra reminded himself that Christopher was a vampire, who had probably murdered people before, and that propping him up as some kind of saint after being kidnapped wasn't a good idea.

"Would you like something to eat?" Christopher asked the trembling man.

"Y-yes- I mean, yes sir." He licked his lips nervously, not seeming to take notice of Ezra.

Christopher walked to the stove and came back with a plate of leftover food from what he had made Ezra, then grabbed him juice from the ice box.

"Please remind me of your name."

"Liam, s- sir."

He started eating, trying to be neat, but very quickly losing his composure trying to eat as much as possible in as short time as he could manage.

Christopher's smile faded as he examined the fang wounds on Liam's neck. Despite his over abundance of fear, Liam automatically exposed his neck and held still the best he could.

"Who takes responsibility for this?" Christopher asked softly. "Lucille?"

Liam forced himself to stop eating. "N-no sir. It was your- your- it was your broth- brother. Michael, I- I think."

Christopher clicked his tongue. "You would assume him to be capable of cleaning up after himself. You need to wash thoroughly after you are done eating. I will leave a medical supply kit in the bathroom down this hallway for you. And there is plenty more for eating."

He slipped out of the room, apparently to get a first aid kit, leaving Liam to eat and Ezra to think. It seemed to make perfect sense now. There were at least three vampires residing here. One of whom was Christopher's brother. And another of whom was a woman named Lucille. A much more American name which shed doubt on familial relation, unless she changed her name at one point.

There was at least one other human living here, a man named Liam. He was apparently being used as a blood bag, but by Michael and possibly Lucille, but probably not Christopher.

Ezra wished for his bullet journal or notes app to jot these things down in, to thwart his piss poor recollection skills.

"My name is Ezra," he said. "Ezra El Farrah. What's yours?"

"Liam Marshall."

He seemed much calmer now that Christopher had left the room, no longer stuttering or trembling. His hands still shook slightly, but not enough for him to lose his grip on his fork.

"I'm guessing you're the new girl next door," he joked. "God, how old are you?"

Ezra had a brief crisis about how he ought to approach the subject of gender,then decided to simply ignore it for the time being.

"Twenty-three."

"Twenty-three...Jesus Christ. I can't believe they've started taking them so young. What the fuck?"

He stood up and cleared his dishes, going back for more grapejuice but abstaining from the food on the stove top.

"What are you doing here?" Ezra asked.

"Getting my blood sugar up." Liam took a sip of grapejuice. "My head has mostly stopped spinning. You know, there's a reason phlebotomists at the red cross give you juice afterwards."

"I'll keep that in mind. But I meant to ask what you were doing in this house. I woke up here yesterday to Christopher explaining that he had stalked and kidnapped me. I don't know what's happening."

Liam laughed, but looked utterly horrified.

"God kid. Um...I'm under the ownership of one Michael Kotev. Actually meaning that I'm under the ownership of one Michael Kotev and his annoying siblings who won't stop stealing his food."

"I see..." Ezra fought the urge to laugh.

"You're lucky. For someone in hell, I mean. At least Christopher is one of the nicer ones."

"I can tell." Ezra couldn't help rubbing his neck, as though to check if it were still fully intact. "He's really...affectionate."

"You've got that right. He's the 'hug it out' sort when anyone's fighting. The oldest, and first turned, so he's head of the house. All the other vamps are his younger siblings and their spouses."

"That's...a lot. How did you end up here?"

"I got my ass dragged here kicking and screaming two years ago by Michael because he was feeling a bit peckish and I happened to smell tasty."

"That's terrifying, and almost the exact opposite of what happened to me."

"Oh, do tell." Ezra cleared his throat. "I woke up yesterday, cuddled up on the sofa with Christopher. He was playing with my hair, as casual as anything. We talked for a while, and he explained how he had been stalking me for months and that he loves me. Whatever that could mean. He's been trying to keep me as comfortable as possible. It's been absolutely insane, actually."

"Holy fuck." Liam stared at Ezra for a moment, trying to puzzle something out.

Ezra took the silence as an opportunity to remind himself that it didn't matter how nice Christopher was, he was still holding Ezra captive.

"I haven't talked to Christopher much," Liam said. "But I'm fucking terrified of all the vamps. I've had by throat ripped open one too many times."

"I'm starting to get very worried myself. Though he doesn't seem that bad. I mean, he was concerned about you."

"Yeah...My advice is to ask Jun. He's Dasha's pet blood bag. Christopher just tends to ignore us humans unless he's having one of his weirdly parental, 'Oh, are you hurt? Do you need food? Do I need to lecture my siblings about not closing your wounds again?' moments."

Pushing aside how truly atrocious Liam's mock Russian accent was, gratitude overcame Ezra at the notion of someone being so willing to help him.

He couldn't be sure how much time he would be spending around the other occupants of the house, but knowing that they were stuck in almost his same situation was enough.

"My advice is for you to stay in your room as much as possible," Liam said. "Don't put yourself in harms way. For the love of God, just do what you're told. This isn't the time or the place for struggling or throwing around slurs."

"I understand. Thank you. It means a lot that you're trying to help out."

"I'm gonna get cleaned up."

Liam walked swiftly down the hallways, almost running, and slammed the bathroom door behind him as quickly as he could manage, like a little kid afraid of monsters lurking in the nightly shadows of their house.

Ezra cleared his dishes and walked back to his bedroom, pulling the blankets over his head in a way he hadn't done since he was eight.

Taglist: @devourerofcheesecake @elim-flower @thedarkmongoose @whumpsday @whump-by-robin @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @annablogsposts @whumpshaped @seetheothersideofparadise @knittedeyebrowsandcardigans @whatwasmyprevioususername @boonasaurusrex @suspicious-whumping-egg @heavenly-whumper @melancholy-in-the-morning @suck-my-clit-loser @anomalys-taxonomy @i-eat-worlds @scp-1296 @chibichibivale @skittles-the-whumpee

[sapphire-weapon]

@marashi96​ I’m sorry 😭😭 I’m trying to find a good tone and setting for them, but for some reason, I just can’t get it to come out right. Again -- it’s an issue of me needing to sit down and read a book, because it’s been a while and I’m out of practice, but. I haven’t found the brainpower yet to sit down and work at any of this stuff.

I’ve been thinking about maybe asking for you guys to send requests into my inbox and see if that sparks anything? No guarantees I’ll actually write what’s sent in, but mmmaaayyybe could help? Was also thinking about just writing tiny short little snippets of scenes for practice, which might be easier than jumping into a full-fledged fic.

Because, yeah, I’m 2 for 2 on starting something for them and abandoning it. As much as I’d like to think I’ll go back to at least one of them, I realistically don’t think that I will. I just can’t seem to find a story I’d actually want to tell.

What I can do in the meantime is share at least a part of one of the fics that I’ve most likely abandoned? I don’t know if this will actually make it better or worse, but.

Here’s a scene. That I wrote. That’s part of a bigger piece. But I’m not going to share everything in this fic that I’ve written because it’s not finished or even really fully thought out at all. But this is a scene!!

It also isn’t really edited or proofread, so, like. Be nice. LMAO

~

"When we do get home," she said softly, "what's the first thing you'll do? After taking a shower and sleeping for two weeks, I mean."

"Good question," he said. "If I had to guess? Probably… get a fire going in my fire pit in my backyard, and sit back there with a beer and a burger."

"And I'm invited to that, right?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "Always."

His answer came out so easily and with so much confidence that, for a second, she almost believed him. She certainly wanted to — but, deep down, she knew better. She knew that once this mission was over, the two of them were going to fall back into the normal routines of their lives, and their paths would probably never cross again. Leon would disappear from her life, and he'd take all of his gentle touches and untold stories with him.

The mere thought of it made her want to start screaming and never stop.

Ashley finally looked down at the way their hands were entangled and tried to ignore the empty sorrow that was welling up at the center of her chest. It seemed stupid to grieve the loss of someone who was still sitting right beside her, but here she was.

She looked up at him again and gave him a sad smile — and, a second and a half later, leaned over to plant a deliberate, lingering kiss on his cheek.

"You're very sweet," she said quietly against the line of his jaw.

It wasn't lost on her, the way his shoulders tensed and his chest shuddered on his next exhale -- and yet, Leon made absolutely no effort to pull away from her or discourage her behavior, so Ashley stayed right where she was. She remained in his personal space, far beyond the border of his shoulder. Her lips hovered mere scant inches from his chin -- close enough that, if she'd tilted her head back just enough, she could've bumped noses with him.

As her gaze flickered upwards, she noticed the way his brow was furrowed — saw that he seemed unable to look her directly in the face — noted the way he kept his eyes downcast and half-lidded in an attempt to hide whatever he was feeling. Yet, still, he didn't pull away. Still, his hand remained curled around hers.

It was then that she finally realized: it wasn’t paranoia or overprotectiveness behind Leon’s gentle, too-long touches. 

It was longing. It was loneliness. It was a desperate desire for a real connection with another human being, no matter how brief.

Her heart ached for him.

Ashley turned her attention back to Leon's eyes. They were still turned downcast, as though he was searching to find some form of answer to a question still yet unasked in the curve of her chin or the length of her neck. It felt almost like he was afraid that if he moved too much in any one direction, the spell would break, the moment would shatter, and it'd all be lost to him forever.

Well. If it was to be her choice, then, it was an easy one for her to make. 

Letting her eyes slide shut, Ashley closed the very short distance between them and pressed her lips against his.

Leon returned her kiss immediately, tilting his head slightly and leaning into it with an enthusiasm that shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did. He finally removed his hand from hers in order to settle his palm against the side of her neck instead. From there, his fingers weaved their way into her hair and lightly cupped the back of her skull in order to hold her in place, right where he wanted her. Ashley returned the gesture, reaching across his chest to lay a hand at the nape of his neck, pulling him ever closer.

[teamxdark]

27. Driver's License

"SHADOW, I HAVE ACQUIRED MORE PARTS FOR PROJECT: DARK RIDER."

"Don't call it that."

Omega beeped in satisfaction as he unceremoniously dropped several miscellaneous parts onto the cave floor. "ALL PROJECTS REQUIRE A NEATO NAME. I LEARNED THAT FROM COMIC BOOKS."

Shadow grunted to show his disinterest as he rooted through the parts. Omega waited a few seconds for any sort of response before throwing his giant metal hands into the air, scraping against the rocky stalactites as he raised his volume output by a few extra decibels. "THE SACRED TEXTS!"

Shadow covered his ears at the sudden loudness, growling and raising his spines like a wounded animal. Omega, knowing his point was made, beeped happily again.

Shadow gave him a swift kick to the chest and sent him crashing into the grotto wall before resuming his appraisal, salvaging useable parts from the heap and placing them in a pile. The rest he crunched under his shoes as he kept sifting through the pile.

Omega, unphased from being launched into the wall, swiveled his head to admire Shadow’s progress on Project: Dark Rider; the motorcycle was still in its bare-bones stage, some essential bits and pieces missing from the structure and mechanisms while larger parts for the final steps laid about, waiting to be painted and put onto the finished product.

Omega hoped that it would have a few laser guns installed, or maybe tires that left trails of fire behind, but Shadow scoffed at his ideas. Then again, Shadow scoffed at everything, whether he agreed with it or not, so Omega could only wait in robotic anticipation for Project: Dark Rider’s completion.

Alas, the short-term urge to be a menace was stronger than the long term desire to see Project: Dark Rider finished, so Omega elected to inconvenience Shadow.

“SHADOW. DO YOU HAVE YOUR DRIVER’S LICENSE?”

Predictably, Shadow scoffed.

“PROJECT: DARK RIDER CAN BE TAKEN FROM YOU IF YOU RIDE IT ILLEGALLY.”

“I’d like to see them try.”

“CAUTION: IF THERE IS ONE THING THE MAYOR DOES WITH ANY SENSE OF EFFICIENCY AND URGENCY, IT IS ENFORCING FEES AND/OR TRAFFIC PROTOCOLS. IF HE CAN MAKE ANY MONEY BY SENDING PROJECT: DARK RIDER TO A TOWING LOT, HE WILL.”

“I don’t need a piece of plastic to tell me that I can drive!” Shadow snapped, his spines bristling again. Objective met.

“QUERY: WHY NOT ASK ROUGE TO TEACH YOU TO DRIVE? SHE HAS CLAIMED TO HAVE HER LICENSE.”

“Yeah, in two-truths-one-lie. It might have been the lie.”

Omega whirred in intrigue, impressed that Shadow remembered that. Shadow, belatedly realizing that he had inadvertently admitted to remembering anything personal at all about Rouge and the context to boot, snarled as he claimed, “I don’t need her help! Just like I don’t need yours!”

“I BROUGHT YOU THE PARTS.”

“Feh! I could have done that myself, and faster.”

“YOU CUT ME DEEP, SHADOW.” Omega held one metal hand against his metal chest and rubbed the other one against his glass eyes, sending a shower of sparks to the ground and a thoroughly unpleasant scraping sound through the air. “REAL DEEP.”

“Good. I hope it helps you remember your place.” Shadow smirked, finally pleased with the outcome. Omega decided to rectify that.

“MY PLACE IS HERE, IN THIS CAVE AS THE PRIMARY OWNER.”

Shadow’s smirk faded into a sneer. Omega beeped happily once again.

Objective met.

[heylinfanclub]

Every time I see fictional enactments of people having mental breakdowns I’m like. ‘Is it not normal to do that like three times a week’. I’m going to have. Such major heart problems. My whole life. I just know it.

The swinging between hysterical, sad and mad? The eyes wide rolling around in my damn skull? The struggle to breathe and not choke on your own spit? The sensation that you might just lash out at anyone or anything that gets too close? The existential hysteria questioning YOUR VERY EXISTENCE AND THE EXISTENCE OF CAUSALITY AND WHY THINGS ARE THE WAY THEY ARE AND COULD THEY NOT BE AND COULD SOMEONE JUST TAKE ME AWAY TAKE ME AWAY.

It’s that last part especially. When you start getting. So. In your god damn feels. YOURE BEGGING THE UNIVERSE FOR REPRIEVE ON REPEAT AS YOU SWAY BACK N FORTH LIKE YOURE HAVING THE WORST TRIP IMAGINABLE TRYING TO CONTACT GOD. HELP ME. HELP ME. HELP ME. HELP ME. KILL ME. RUN OVER MY HEAD. NEVER WAKE ME. SEND ME TO HELL ILL PAY FOR MY SINS NOW PLEASE PLEEAASSE ANYTHING BUT A MOMENTS MORE OF TORMENT. that kinda. Shit.

Every day people look at me and tell me I’m fine. I’m smart I’m practical I’m insightful I’m hanging on I’m resourceful I seem GREAT. Hell. My problems aren’t even that bad from their perspective (and maybe they’re right!)

I want to kill them every time and maybe one day I’ll smack someone across the face. Maybe break my knuckles smashing their nose into their brain. I think. I deserve it.

ANYWAY. had another lapse of mental angst because I cannot prioritize without a helper and that means I’m drowning in an infinitely vast array priorities, and should I spare one even a second of my attention, my anxiety comes running at me with a machete to ritually slaughter me for thinking for a second THAT was my highest priority.

I just want. To live. But I cannot. Because my brain doesn’t know what’s important. Except for. Being In a Domestic Cow Like State of UNTHINKING. and it makes me wanna explode my surroundings with my mind.

I’m getting a headache from being stuck in executive dysfunction too long and I donttt liikkeee iittttt.

LIKE. I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HAVIN A GOOD ONE. I was supposed to be feelin a GOOD EMOTION SPARKED. INSPIRATION. INSPIRATION FOR MY DESIRE TO WRITE A STORY. But instead. I was smacked with that reminder that. I don’t choose what’s important and what needs to be done and if I do it. I don’t get to choose. So why both having dreams? Why bother having wants? Wishes? Why bother? (It would matter more if I had a community that HELPS ME and maybe I have a community that PROTECTS me but that’s. Not the same. I feel so fuckin brainless. My thoughts bounce in every direction but go Nowhere. They loop back on themselves and fight each other like rabid animals. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with a brain like this. Forever. Happily. Not without reliable support. Which doesn’t exist. There is no such thing as reliable. Everything is temporary. So it’s always fINE THEN you have to FIND A WAY TO COPE. ALONE? FOREVER? It’s bullshit. I hate this shit. Ahhhhh.

I wanted to think Ooo Ahh inspiration for a story I want to write so bad.

But it just went ‘when. When will you write. How. Will you be afloat. Will it distract you. Distract you from friends from life from stability? You can’t even take care of yourself you don’t deserve to do anything until you can take care of yourself and function with others and *you have so many other higher priorities that will kill you if you do not attend to them first*’

Weeps

THERAPIST SAID I DIDNT HAVE OCD. NOT EVEN PURE O. AND MAYBE SHE RIGHT. I CAN STOP THINKING ABOUT IT. IF PUSHED IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION. WHICH IM NEVER. BECAUSE IM ALONE. AND THAT MEANS I END UP RUMINATING TIL I HAVE HEART AND STOMACH PAINS. AHHHHHHH.

Awoooo

Awoooo

I hate it

[thesinglesjukebox]

TATE MCRAE - "GREEDY"

Not an Ariana Grande cover, but the enunciation isn't much better...

[5.00]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Largely indistinguishable from the fake pop songs on The Idol. [3]

Leah Isobel: Tate McRae is 20 - old enough to embrace sexuality, young enough that she's still exploring its effects. "greedy" indicates both, its chorus driven by the novelty of being able to see yourself as a desirable object and by the fractured emotions attendant to that realization. She might embody the latter a little too well; her mushmouthed, cotton-candy voice throws off sparks on the chorus but dissolves into nothing when the verses send her into her lower register. What lingers isn't bravado or pleasure, but anxiety: when she hums "baby, please believe me," it's like it's directed inward. Please, say it right. Please, deliver what's desired in this moment. Please, let me get what I'm not sure that I want. I am very, very happy that I'm no longer 20. [5]

Ian Mathers: I was the only blurber here to love McRae and Khalid's "Working" (a song that has only grown in my estimation since), and that was entirely down to the subtlety, generosity, and maturity of its message and emotional range. I haaaaated the next time we covered McRae and my entire blurb was about disliking her singing style. Doing an A/B comparison between that song and this one I do think whatever was bugging me (which I still don't like!) is either less pronounced here or works better in "Greedy." But as opposed to something like "Working" there's nothing particularly distinctive or compelling to this one for me, indicating that at least right now she's more than capable of excelling on good material but maybe not so much of elevating average material. Wouldn't touch that dial though. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: The most memorable thing about "Greedy" is how hilariously mismatched the Darrin's Dance Grooves choreo is to the vibe of the song. (2023 songs the choreography would actually fit: "Padam Padam"; "Padam Padam"; maybe others.) [5]

Michael Hong: Sometimes, "you broke me first" comes on the radio and I just feel so bad for her -- she sounds so small, so miniscule, I just want to hold her. I like the zamboni of its music video, a really fun "I'm Canadian" statement, but the nasal quality of her voice does nothing for me here. [4]

Aaron Bergstrom: Real commitment to the hockey theme here, singing the whole song with her mouthguard still in like that. [2]

Nortey Dowuona: Stop being greedy/give to the needy. Tate sounds so confident on this record she can't be bothered to give the Gus Johnson lookalike in this song an actual name. Her voice is still cutesy and pinched, constantly pushed into the upper range of her nasally soprano, but once it's layered and compressed to stamp the hook into the brain, it becomes lighter and seethes, disgusted by the unappealing attention he tries to ensnare her. It's probably the embarrassing experience of Jasper Harris or Ryan Tedder, or the lived experience of Tate or Amy Allen, who has written "Graveyard", "Adore You" and "Without Me", all vivid songs with tight hooks which stamp on your brain just as this does. But I can't tell if I love or just like this song, it really depends on the day. So now it's a - [6]

Brad Shoup: We have Nelly Furtado ft. Timbaland at home! [4]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Tate McRae's garbled singing is gerbil-coded. It's partly the AutoTune, partly because it's squeaky and small. Like, whenever the chorus comes in, I get the overwhelming sense that the songwriters tried to mask her limited vocal range. At least it's pitiable. [2]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Looks like Tate McRae inherited the Ariana-Grande mumble-mouth gene for making a chorus sound pretty and unintelligible in one breathe. The lyrical conceit of "Greedy" makes little sense, but that matters little when the song is mostly a vehicle for Tate McRae to show off her dance skills and theater kid emotions. [6]

Taylor Alatorre: The basic structure of "greedy," with its neatly divided "he said" verses and "she said" chorus, makes it hard for me to see it as something other than the "Jerk Store" of pop songs. Unless we're really meant to believe that Tate McRae is saying things like "I'll put you through hell" in a public setting, a scene that would be laughed out of the writers' room of even the corniest teen drama. I do admire, though, the kind of obstinate creative logic that leads a singer to emulate Timbaland not merely or even primarily in his production style, but also in his underratedly weird stop-start way of delivering lyrics. Shock Value III when? [4]

Hannah Jocelyn: I've been rooting for Tate McRae despite all the reasons I shouldn't - she sounds like one of the mice from Cinderella, she brings little new to pop music, and yet she has her place as Olivia Rodrigo's bratty younger sister the way Rodrigo was initially pitched as one to Taylor Swift. I actually love how whiny she is - I find that more relatable than people who actually strive for relatability, and I don't even mean that condescendingly. She's kooky enough to have an entire alter ego named Tatiana, where she moves from Eilish and Rodrigo to Spears and Furtado. She's not as distinctive as any of them, but muscular production from Ryan Tedder (!) gives the illusion she holds her own. I've heard people say she sounds scared instead of assertive, and while I hear that, it adds palpable stakes to the song, however intentionally. But I also liked the last darker-and-edgier artist reboot no one else did, so what do I know? [7]

Scott Mildenhall: The vocal distortion is elevated by its sparkle, but compounded by McRae's mumbles, which obscure any attitude she intends to project. "In your face" is a stance to take; not a place to hide your syllables. [6]

Will Adams: Such an interesting approach to vowels. I await our next pop star who fully sounds like Homestar Runner. [4]

Harlan Talib Ockey: Tate McRae has somehow had a drastically different personality on every single of hers I have heard. Part of this may be down to her voice, which is pretty texturally unusual (underneath the bananies and avocadies) and possibly too oily to have a full-belt setting. "Greedy" is where she seems to have found the formula that works; McRae really suits this "Promiscuous" update where she can use a little more of her head voice. [7]

Oliver Maier: Greedy for what, bananies and avocadies? Lol. Apologies to miss McRae. The song is quite good. [6]

Kayla Beardslee: I'm a little surprised this song blew up, because I've listened to it several times and still cannot make out half the lyrics in the chorus ("I would want myself, the reason bleeblee"??). But we're starved for new pop stars right now, so any fresh hit that gets people talking about pop girl potential is a net positive. [5]

Jackie Powell: It takes around 5 seconds for "Greedy" to send me back in time. The beat drops after the steel drum-sounding intro and the unknown voice shouting "Whoop," a classic ad-lib in the pop/ R&B crossover space. Nelly Furtado or rather her influence has somehow returned around 17 years later in 2023. That "Promiscuous" sounding beat sticks out immediately and Ryan Tedder knew that it would. It was amusing to see in the liner notes that "Promiscuous" was given a sample credit, almost a preventative measure. Gasp, there can't be another Gen Zer taking rhythmic elements from the 2000s without giving proper credit. "Greedy" is a smash and has the potential to launch McRae to greater heights. (I'll still remember "She's All I Wanna Be", which was far superior.) An underrated part of the production is that rhythmic steel drum-sounding intro which finds its way throughout the entire song. McRae imitates the part's rhythm when she confidently vocalizes the different vowels in "Uh-uh, uh-uh-uh, uh-uh". While McRae's vocal tone is reminiscent of Camilla Cabello or Melanie Martinez, she's a much more expressive performer. There's an assurance that's way beyond her years in how she's able to communicate the story she's trying to tell. There's something empowering about a song with a killer beat all about how men can be creepy and aren't entitled to the allure of the women around them. She's 20 years old and singing about this! Speaking of her age and maturity, McRae has been deemed Gen Z's Brittney Spears, or the heir apparent to Spears. There's something incredibly unsettling about that. The similarities are apparent: both are trained dancers, both appeared on children's television (McRae voiced a LaLaLoopsy doll) both have huskiness attached to their vocal ranges and both have a command of their sexuality, which makes them both such captivating live performers. So what's unsettling about that? McRae is making her climb to the top with tools that Spears didn't have. Spears didn't have the prior credibility that McRae has. Placing third on So You Think You Can Dance and her self written and performed song "One Day" add much more to the McRae story than we ever had about Spears during the days of "Oops, I did it again." McRae won't have to deal with critics claiming she doesn't have talent. The evidence of her talent is all over the internet. During her live performances, she finds a way to maintain that credibility as well. She doesn't lip-sync but rather picks her spots with a backing track. She makes sure she has a moment to really dance full force to the music she just sang by adding an outro. These are tactics that Brittney Spears and her team either didn't think of or weren't really possible in the early 2000s. If we are transporting back to 2000s pop, I hope we also don't transport back to 2000s celebrity culture, a truly *dark* time in music. [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[heyseihai]

Erika and Leif conversation (daemon route)

First part you can read here,

L: I know that mobilizing your powers can make you feel that sensation.

L: You could think that aengels are sending their power to you. But I still believe it's not the case.

L: I don't know exactly why we have this impression that our power is something external to us. I get it that may be pleasant the feeling of being... supported, in some way.

E: Yeah... when I use my powers it's like aengels are by my side. As if they guided me, somehow (we're wasting maana again with the "two different ways of saying the same thing", dammit)

E: Maybe because my powers have frequently manifested on their own. As if they came to help me when I need, without my need to ask.

L: However, it weren't the aengels that helped me to retrieve my powers.

L: It was only Koori, when she helped me remember the aengel I once was. (oh, is that so? But remember IT WAS MY IDEA, OKAY? Leiftan isn't helping me have any sympathies for this character)

E: (I'm still kinda sad for not being invited for their meditation sessions, but I keep curious to know how things are going)

E: Speaking of which, how the sessions are doing? She said you've progressed…

L: Yes, she really helped me a lot. It was thanks to her that I've managed to evoke my aengel powers again.

E: (I shook my head. That's good, that's good…)

L: Listen… I'm sorry for not allowing you to participate… (yeah I know how sorry you are, thanks alooot)

E: Nah, no, no problem. I totally understand.

L: I don't want to give you a lecture, but…

E: (I frowned, he was about to lecture me)

L: You've been using the daemon powers too much…

E: Are you talking about the moments when I saved our lives, and Yaqut? When I convinced Orgelz to listen to us instead of attacking us? Or when I knocked the rookh that would kill Nevra down?

E: (Leiftan sighed. I felt he was sincerely embarassed.)

L: Yes. These moments. I'm not telling you you're wrong to use them, but these powers are dangerous. I know it better than anyone.

E: More dangerous than twenty-four vampires? A dozen of rookhs?

L: It's… diferent. Listen, you know I want what it's best for you*.

E: (Ofc I know. I feel it)

L: I fear for you. I fear these powers take over you.

E: (It was true, more than once, he was being totally sincere. I felt his fear)

E: Don't worry, Leiftan. I control them. I hadn't cut ties with the light of the aengels. Look.

E: (A light shows up around my hand. the sparks cracked around my fingers, as usual. Could it be that they were more opaque than before? No doubt, it was because of the darkness in the room… The light disappeared when I closed my hand.)

E: See? You're worrying too much.

L: I can't stop you from using it, anyway. But it seems it's already become a reflex to you. If I were you, I would try to work on it, before it's too late.

E: Perhaps because we're frequently attacked. If it weren't for my powers, we would be dead. I didn't want to use them, either. I don't like to attack companions, nor humans. I have no choice. Everybody's survival is at stake and I know I will have to use them again.

E: The vampires, the rookhs were piece of cake compared to what awaits us. The Templars will attack us again, and they won't fall back. We can't bring ourselves to avoid using such power and I refuse to let everything that happened before, happen again. And if I need to neutralize all of them, I will, whatever the means. If its the only way to protect the faerys, I will use this dark energy until they're safe.

E: (Leiftan blocked his emotions. I don't like it.)

L: Got it. I can't blame you…

L: I need to get up, I need to talk to HH.

E: About what? You want warn her about me?

L: What? No, of course not! She asked me to see her, that's all.

L: With the Guard Leaders, she wanted to talk about the following strategy...

E: and my presence is not desired in this case either?

L: She might have thought you would be busy with your duties of Sister for a day.

E: I didn't answer. He got up and kissed me quickly before dressing up and leave.

[sparatus]

74 for the spotify wrapped ficlet game :)

yesssssss YESSSSSSS

this one's a lot of fun to BELT ngl

the speaker of the song knows they're being lied to by a lover who keeps telling them they'll love them forever, and even though it hurts because they're fully aware of what's coming, they can't help but still love them. adhd thought process bounced around a few times but i kept coming back to my original concept for this so guess what we're going with, lol, hope u like Ierian Sparatus Backstory Content™

ierian is my hc name for cnclr sparatus, herrimius invidas is the ex-boyfriend who clawed his face apart and gave him the facial scars we see in canon :)

spotify wrapped new game+: send me a number 1-101 and i'll write you a ficlet inspired by the corresponding song

--

Ierian couldn't tell you when the spark died between him and Herrimius. Maybe it had been last month, maybe last year. Maybe it had never really been there at all, and he'd just let himself think it was because Herrimius thought he was hot and it felt good to be desired.

That part of it was still there, at least. If all else failed, Herrimius still thought he was attractive and wanted to fuck him. He wanted to fuck him a lot, really, and that was what made Ierian think. Where his other friends talked about going out to see a simulstim, or eat at a nice restaurant, or mess around at a combat sim, or anything else that might be a fun date, all he and Herrimius seemed to do was fuck and show each other stupid shit they found on the extranet. He would have liked to do those things, of course. They sounded fun, and he wanted to have that same kind of light about him that his friends got when they talked about their dates and partners. But whenever he brought it up, Herrimius would wave him off - "not right now" or "maybe" or "I'm busy," until Ierian stopped bringing it up.

He was never too busy for the things he wanted to do, Ierian also noticed. Everything was about Herrimius's interests, or desires, or ideas. Ierian's got brushed off, and sometimes straight-up ignored. Of course, if he tried to brush Herrimius off, it was the end of the world, and Ierian had to scramble to apologize and make time for him, even if he really couldn't afford to, but then, he was Herrimius's friend, and Herrimius was pretty busy, so it was fine.

"I'm important to you, right?" Ierian asked him one night, when they were lying in bed after another round. It hadn't been much fun, Herrimius had wanted to try something Ierian hadn't been that into, but he'd tried it for Herrimius's sake (and decided it sucked), and he wasn't as tired as usual, so his brain was still rolling ideas around.

"Huh?" Herrimius was tired, as he'd enjoyed himself much more than Ierian had. "'Course, what makes you think you're not?"

"Mm. Just thinking. Late-night existentialism, you know."

Herrimius snorted and rolled over. "You think too much. One of these days, you'll think yourself into trouble, and then what will you do?"

"If I'm a lawyer by then, I'll be fine."

Herrimius didn't respond. After a minute, a whistling snore rose from his side of the bed.

He never seemed to pay much attention when Ierian wanted to talk about the future. About law school, about his anxieties and motivations and all his debates on which branch he wanted to specialize in. He had a plan and everything - he'd go home to Acalin, study at U-TIE there like every generation of his family before him, sign on with the Cavalry to finish out his mandatory service while he was there, pass the bar exam, get a job with the government, live out a mildly interesting but not wholly exciting life in the peaceful anonymity of an imperial prosecutor. He could tell you every obstacle, every leg up, every time frame.

He wasn't even sure Herrimius had an idea of what he'd do with himself.

He supposed he might be able to pencil in room for meeting new people. Children might be nice, at some point, once he had everything stable and comfortable enough to put a nest together. Herrimius didn't want children, but maybe he could be talked around once they were older.

His gizzard grumbled, and he wondered how much longer he could keep lying to himself.

[highly-misfortunate-softie]

Feelings of today

I woke up depressed and hazy today, and that just devolved into major depression.

My dreams last night began with my abusive ex boyfriend from 9 years ago breaking into my house at night, not doing anything, really, but I suppose he was just showing me that he still could and would.

The other dream I sort of remember was being in my parents house with my most recent ex, and having a much healthier conversation with him about the breakup than I did in actuality. I was with him, but I scratched the message into a boat of some sort (that resembled one we rode in Las Vegas) and the message was essentially that I didn’t really feel a spark with him, either, and so that isn’t what hurt me, but rather that I think a relationship is a heavy commitment where you really take someone’s safety and well-being into your hands, and you accept the obligation to really try hard and long to make it work, which is why I stayed with him, and that I think he at least could have been honest with me about having made the mistake of asking me to be his girlfriend instead of blindsiding me after making me feel safe when I wasn’t.

I wish I could have this conversation with him. But I really think he would still just sit there and try to placate me anyway, which would only hurt me more. Truth is all I want.

I wrote an apology text to him from saying cruel things to him (though I don’t even think they were cruel, they were my real feelings… and here is where I wonder whether I am autistic or something: I understand what kinds of things offend people, but I don’t actually understand why or agree that it’s valid if it’s the real truth. What could be more important than that? But I wonder if I can actually handle the truth. I think I can.)

I hated sending the apology because I’m not sorry and I meant everything I said. I was just trying to force myself to act like an atypical person, even though I really believe I don’t need to apologize for him being too weak to listen to the thoughts of someone criticizing him, who isn’t saying things just to upset him, but rather to have a real conversation now that he, himself, showed me that respect and the game of pretending to protect the other’s feelings is no longer a factor between us. It makes me want to throw up even thinking about apologizing for such a thing, but whatever, maybe another time I will have more answers about why that might have been a good idea. He didn’t answer anyway. I wish he would come over so I could cry and tell him how I feel and he could see that he genuinely hurt me.. and I could receive comfort from him. I think that would provide some closure for me. I don’t really know how to show people my emotions, especially sadness or anger, but I definitely long to.

Then, because I was desiring comfort, I started thinking about how I have nobody to provide that for me. And I thought about Carl, and how I feel like he isn’t a real friend and never really has been. He doesn’t treat me like his other friends, and he refuses to go out of his house with me even though he does with other people. And.. when I go over, it feels like he only hangs out with me out of obligation before pressuring me pretty heavily to be sexual with him. A means to an end. I never want to have sex with him, but I have never gone over and not had sex with him, and it is never him trying to please me… it is always just him making me please him. I don’t even like to ride or suck dick but he makes me do it every single time. I just wanted somewhere safe and mellow to go and that’s what I was paying to delude myself that that was the place I could find it. Plus last time I was there, and he was drunk, he kept saying kind of aggressively that I should just tell him we are going to have sex and how long I will be there for, and get right to it. I didn’t even really understand it because he is usually polite, but it hurt my feelings. I decided I probably shouldn’t ever see Carl again.

I texted him about my feelings about it in a pretty nice way, but his response seemed like he put basically no effort into it… It was the kind of response I give if I can’t muster up any genuine care and just want to appease the situation quickly, and end the conversation.

When I got it, I just cried, and wished so badly that people would just be honest with me because it’s so cruel to keep me stuck caring about someone with the string of hope they might care, too, and being hurt constantly because they show me the opposite. I always want to work toward a better relationship with those people, and it pains me to have all of these conflicting feelings about it. If he just wanted me for sex, he should just tell me so I could show up if I felt like it, and just leave, without getting more invested or introducing those very dangerous feelings of care and attachment. Same with my most recent ex. If he had just told me his doubts along, I could have protected myself. These people think they’re being nice, but they’re putting my life at risk just to protect themselves from believing they did anything wrong under the guise of having “only been nice.”

It’s fucking cruel. Don’t enter my life in the first place. You’re dangerous and I don’t deserve to die.

[ohleander]

9.8.22

Another morning of skim writing. There doesnt seem to be as much in my brain as there was yesterday but I'm still going to write. Yesterday I gave myself a really great pep talk on the way to work in the car. Its kinda nice to talk to myself and reassure myself. The place where I want to be and the place I'm at now really might not be so far apart but more than anything I just want a giant gift of money to help boost me where I want to be. Its definitely kinda.. frowned upon to wish for money so much, but I really just want to work at home, create a great homestead and make art all day.. maybe travel.. treat all my loved ones.. invest in young folks, send the kiddos in the family to college. I really dont feel like my desire to get a huge chunk of money is rooted in laziness or greed. I want it so I can do good things with it. I want it so I can use it, not have it, hoard it or take advantage of others. I'm working on healing my relationship with money. I've always had the feeling that liking and enjoying money was taboo or that it might spark the greed-monster or the frivolous monster but I really dont think so. I think it would help spark comfort and creativity in me. I spend so much time working, and I am grateful for that, but its hard to create in the patterns I'm currently in.

The messages I keep getting all around me tell me I'm in the right place at the right time. I would just love to manifest a great cushion for me and my dad and my family. I dont believe what I want is extravagance, I simply want freedom and peace and I'm so willing to share that. I want to have enough money to be a giver. I suppose I should go ahead and be a giver so that giving big is easier. I'm always trying to be in alignment with what I want and its amazing how unclear I've been so far. Its amazing how hard it is to feel clear and be clear with my intentions. I guess my imagination is so big, my mind travels from one thing to the next. I'd love to manifest some focus, if thats the case.

I realized that a lot lot loooottt of my problems come from my very own self sabotaging tendencies. I really cant seem to recognize when things are good. I guess because I've been in survival mode for years and have really only just climbed out of it. I dont trust things yet but I really really want to. I realize that a lot of things I feel and think still rest within my body. I need to break these bodily cycles of anxiety. I never realize im in them, mentally, until my body is shaking and uncomfortable. I've thought my separation between mind and body is one of my autistic traits and I cant help but feel exercise will help. Exercise to get all the extra energy out of my body. Exercise as a stim instead of a routine or a method to get 'fit'.

More bodily things I'd like to start doing even though I'm afraid are taking cold showers and stimulating the vagus nerve with ice water and ice packs. I realize that while my brain wants to chill out, its my nervous system thats been having a hard time handling things.

I just want to reach a point of comfort and peace and stability. I will always be working and doing things no matter what, but the ends must be more beneficial to me. Its easy to be scared in this world, with all thats going on and the impending recession.

Another thing, at the end of the day, no matter who I'm talking to, its so great just to level with people. Information should be shared, the truth should be worked out and worked through.

I fully believe everything I've been through in the past 12 years has been practice and work for something 'bigger' and I'm always waiting on the 'BIG suprirse' but perhaps growth is slow.. perhaps im in the big and cant even see it.

Its the full moon and mercury retrograde time.. Its definitely a big time to hang back and reflect and integrate old things that come back for a second chance. Its a time to slow down but I do have a hard time slowing down.

I'm still always working so hard.. I'd love to have my house bought, no strings attached, debts paid, family with me and regular money coming in without my extra work. I want my work to be fun and what I choose it to be. So many people in this world have so much without having done as much (but thats awfully judgemental of me isnt it, I cant compare, I dont know them) BUT it sure seems like if some folks can have it all, then so can I. Without the guilt.

I will no longer sabotage the good things going on for me. I am ready to receive all of the good and great surprises that are coming my way. I'm willing to trust that things are going to be good, whatever opportunity I take. My distrust in things creates a shadow, a fog thats hard to see through. My distrust in things creates NO clarity.. I'm still working hard and I'd like to work less and receive more. Perhaps thats the key.. work smarter not harder. The divine balance isnt something thats mine to understand, I should just accept and receive whats meant for me and whats mine. My human perception of give and take and whats 'deserved' is so limited. The universe knows whats coming to me.

I am a co-creator with the universe, she is my partner in life and I love her.

LA

[prettyboykatsuki]

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what i want | s. todoroki 

➳ tags ;; face-sitting, afab!reader, overstimulation, scent kink (?), smut, mdni 18+

➳ wc ;; 1.5k

➳ a/n ;; saw a tiktok + and read this shiggy drabble by @/saintdabi ‘s  and now this concept wont leave me alone in anyway.  literally wrote this like i was posessed... 

➳ plot ;; midoriya sends a certain link in the groupchat. todorki gets curious and clicks. suddenly he wants to try seomthing. 

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“Can we try something?” 

The question catches you off-guard. Not because it’s a weird and kind of vague question (which it is) but because of who’s asking. Todoroki rarely ever brings things up out of the blue. You’re trying to make dinner so you don’t really have a lot of time to think about why. You dry your wet-hands on the front of your apron, stirring the pot. 

You don’t bother to think twice when you reply to him. 

“What do you wanna try?” 

A silence falls. It’s just a beat too long, which isn’t uncommon for him but isn’t what you expect. You glance over your shoulder after salting the water, squinting. Todoroki almost mirrors you, reading something off his phone. He looks up at you after taking one last glance, as if to make sure he got it right. 

“Face-sitting,” 

You almost fall over. 

He says it so nonchalantly, you’re almost sure you’re hearing things. You brace yourself on the counter and turn down the heat almost entirely, trying to ensure your house doesn’t go down in flames. You blink at him owlishly. 

“Sorry.. can you repeat that?” 

He looks confused. He was sure he said it correctly. He blinks a few times, glances at his phone again as he tilts his head to one side. 

“..face-sitting?”  

You think you’ve gone mad but he looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost it. Your skin grows beyond hot underneath your clothes - a vague emotion of arousal rolling through you. With your mouth agape, you decide that there’s no way you could continue with dinner so you turn it off and stare at him. Nervously, you cross your arms over your chest. 

“.. Where did you..?” 

Todoroki, stoic as ever, shrugs. He looks down at his phone and this time, you can hear the constant buzzing. 

“Midoriya sent a link into the chat on accident. I clicked it,” ― he says, and then seemingly decides this needs absolutely no more explaining than that ― “It looked interesting,” 

You stare at him. 

“Were you... watching porn while I made dinner?” 

He nods. You think you might lose your mind at this rate but you press forward anyways, eyes looking down at his pants. He’s as soft as can be, you’d know. 

“You’re not hard..?” 

He nods, again. Looks at you confused like he has some reason to be. 

“I only get hard with you,” 

You inhale a sharp breath. You think this man might kill you some day, but you’d probably let it happen. Shaking your head, you lean against the counter. With a smile of sympathy, you decide to be straightforward with it. 

“..I’m pretty sure I’d crush you baby,” 

Without missing a single beat, he shakes his head. This time, there’s a faint hint of a blush on his face. 

“I don’t care. I.. really want to,” ― he looks up at you with the most curious eyes you’ve ever seen ― “Please?” 

You’re not sure how to feel. The possibility of mishap is enough to make you want to reject him again but he looks so hopeful. The idea of your beloved boyfriend walking around sulking is guilt-inducing enough to make you sigh and give in. He smiles when you nod. 

You walk over towards him, only really planning on giving him a kiss. You’d been out most of the day and were planning on taking a night-shower after dinner. 

“Okay, well - let me shower first and -” 

He shakes his head, almost petulant. Strong arms wrap around your waist as he drags you down to his lap with an urgency he can’t seem to contain. You yelp audibly, hearing soft breaths in your ear. Something twitches to life underneath you as soon as you sit, making your eyes grow wide. 

“Can’t wait that long and..I like it better like this,” 

Your eyes grow wide. The “this” remains vague but you’ve caught onto how Todoroki seems to like you more before you’ve showered than after. Still, it makes your skin hot. You want to argue with him - about to protest and struggle out of his grip but all of a sudden his voice goes raspy. Soft and low against the nape of your neck. 

“Please, my love. I really want to,” 

You swallow the saliva in your mouth, mind blanking at the sound of his voice. It goes right to your core, a pleasant throb in your shorts. You’re still wearing your apron and PJ’s. You agree maybe too easily, weak to him and his desires. 

“Fine but how do you want to...? On the couch..?” Your words come out unusually meek. You’re never such a nervous person there’s something thick in the air. Palpable desire that makes you weak. 

A warmth settles in your skin as he wastes no time, undoing your apron and letting it fall to the floor. Slender, pretty fingers go into the waist band of your shorts and without a second thought, he helps you slide them off your legs. 

It’s almost like an inspection, how you’re sprawled over his thigh. It’s all happening so fast - your mind moves too slow to keep up. His pointer finger drags across your clothed cunt, chin resting over your shoulders. His brow furrows at the wet-spot on them. A whine leaves you in embarrassment that he ignores. 

“You’re wet already.. sorry to make you impatient,” 

The apology is so genuine you’re not sure how to reply. 

“Here.. I’ll lay like this and you can rest your knees on the cushion,” 

You move off of him and stand to see what he means. He gets himself comfortable, head resting on the armrest of the couch. You blink as he gestures to where you should place yourself. When he says sit on his face, he means sit . He means lean forward so your ass is facing him. The realization hits you like a truck. 

Out of obligation, all the furniture in your house is lavish and this couch is no exception. All white and big enough that you could spread out on it without much effort. You know you’ll fit but you hesitate. Todoroki looks at you patiently but you can practically feel how much he wants it. 

With a little help, you manage to get into position. It’s a little humiliating - the feeling of his warm breath fanning your cunt. You’re still just hovering above him, and you squirm around as best you can. So nervous you think you’ll pass out. 

“Are you sure you want to ― aah!,” 

Without a word of warning, Todoroki pulls you down until the full weight of you ends up on his face. Your panties are still on but he doesn’t seem to pay any attention, his tongue lapping at your clit with such fervor you can’t help but moan. The angle from which he eats you hits the spot so perfectly, works you up until your pussy is practically drooling on his face. 

You let out a feverish squeal at the pleasure, still light but overwhelming enough that you’re wiggling away. Every now again between licks, he lets out a deep groan that vibrates against your sex so sweetly. Your stomach churns as your hands splay on his abdomen. 

“Sh-shouto my, fuck - my panties, you’re gonna get them, hmph” 

He lets you up, ever so briefly, just to whisper a hoarse “sorry,” move your panties just to the side before making you plunge right back down onto his tongue. You taste sweet and slight - but it’s better after a long day. So much stronger in his mouth, he can’t enough of it. 

Saliva and slick drip down his chin and cheeks, further fueled by the way you whimper above him. He eats you out very often but it’s different like this - you can’t go anywhere because his arms are secure around your thighs and his tongue keeps slurping so greedily at your swollen clit. He’ll stop just to feel it pulsate before carrying on with incredible enthusiasm. 

And he moans through it like it turns him on more than him fucking you. You’re honestly inclined to believe it might. His hands that rest on your ass, spreading you apart so he can go just that much deeper. Your nerves are being worked, the sheer stimulation is too much for you. He’s overzealous and shameless about it too. 

“You taste so good my love, fuck” 

Hearing him speak to you makes tears well at your eyes. He slides his tongue over your puffy clit over and over until he hits a rhythm. The constant feeling of pleasure sparks again and again and again until an orgasm so steadily builds in you. 

“Shouto, shouto - baby, please! Slow down or I’ll c-cum,” 

He heard you, he must have because if anything he goes that much faster. So fast that you’re practically sobbing his name, drooling and blindsided as the coil in your belly snaps. You cum so hard and so fast, you think you’re going to see your maker. Your toes curl and your walls flutter. A high whine leaves your mouth. 

“Baby, no more - can’t anymore,” 

He stops but only to speak with an almost delirious voice. Deep and possessive as his hands bury into your hips. 

“I’m not done yet” 

You realize a second too late what you’ve just gotten yourself into. 

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