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allisluv · 6 months ago

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COMING CLEAN

chapter thirteen -- poison fog

pairing: finnick odair x fem!oc

content warnings: concussions, disassociation, teasing, sexual jokes and innuendos, sweet finn and dahlia moments!!, nicknames and pet names, gore, blood, angst, death, burning, miscommunication (?), not being able to tell what's real, mercy kill (im sorry in advance yall).

word count: 4.8k

previous chapter -- next chapter.

Dahlia always finds it harder to keep a grip on reality in the evenings and tonight is no exception. Her concussion isn't helping matters and it takes every ounce of willpower she possesses to stop herself from falling asleep.

Mags has curled up in a ball like a cat, her chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths, and both Peeta and Wyatt are snoring like trucks. Katniss is as alert as be damned, refusing to do so much as to even close her eyes.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Finnick asks, knocking his shoulder into Dahlia's. He frowns when she recoils away from his touch. She's never done that before, and it makes him wonder if he's done something wrong. "You okay, honey?" She nods her head, eyes unfocused as she stares off into the distance. "Dahlia."

Her head snaps to the side so fast he thinks she gave herself whiplash. "Huh?"

"I asked if you were okay," Finnick says slowly, brows knitting together and causing the skin on his forehead to criss-cross with worry lines. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?" He asks, itching to reach out and tilt her head towards him, but knowing that she probably won't appreciate it given her previous reaction. "Talk to me."

Dahlia worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "Just... thinking," she says, lifting her shoulders up into a shrug.

"Anything you wanna share?" Finnick teases, tilting his head to one side in an effort to catch her attention. She doesn't blink, and he starts to worry that it's a side effect of her concussion. "I'm serious, honey, are you okay? Do you feel alright?"

"I'm fine," Dahlia insists. "You worry too much, Finn," she says, turning to look at him. He smirks, and she glares at him. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

He chuckles under his breath. "You called me Finn," he sings, watching as her face crumbles and the blood rushes to her cheeks. "In all the time I've known you, honey, you've never gave me the privilege of a nickname."

She ducks her head to hide the colour in her face. "I call you an asshole," she supplies, trying to sway him into a different conversation altogether. "Surely that counts for something."

"You're deflecting!" He points an accusing finger at her and breathes out a laugh. "Oh my God, you're blushing! You're embarrassed!" He wears a shit-eating grin and before Dahlia has time to catch the thought and question it, she wonders if kissing him would make his ego inflate more or less. "Don't worry, honey. Personally, I think you should start calling me it more often. I mean, its really doing something for me here."

She snorts indignantly. "You're an animal. An actual animal."

Panem's national anthem sounds throughout speakers hidden around the arena and the fallen eight tributes are shown on a hologram high in the sky. Mags and the others stir from their sleep, tossing and turning as they push themselves up onto their elbows to peer up at the night sky. The anthem ends, and the hologram fizzles out.

"There's sixteen of us left," Peeta announces, voice quiet and laced with tiredness. He rests his head on Katniss' shoulder, eyes fluttering shut once more before the steady sound of beeping brings him back to reality. He groans, and stands to his feet, dragging his prosthetic leg behind him as they all move to crowd around the small parachute that has landed on the mossy jungle floor.

No one moves to open it, so Katniss takes matters into her own hands. She hastily rips open the packaging and reads the paper note aloud. "Drink up? It's from Haymitch."

"What is it?" Finnick wonders aloud, cocking his head to one side as he tries to study the small, metal object in Katniss' hands. "You can't fish with it, anyway. I've never seen that before in my life and trust me, being from four, I would have seen it if it had anything to do with catching fish for food."

"I think it's a spile," Katniss practically trips over her own two feet as she rushes to a nearby tree, throwing an explanation over her shoulder as she uses the jagged edge of a rock to dig the spile into the trunk. "It's kind of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out."

"Sap?" Wyatt sounds bewildered. They don't have many trees in District Nine, and the few they do have wouldn't be the same ones that Katniss is referring to. "What the fuck is sap?"

"It's kind of like honey," Peeta answers as they crouch down beside Katniss and the tree. "You use it to make syrup. There must be water inside of these trees." He says excitedly. "Come on," he mutters under his breath, hoping to anybody who's listening that they haven't gotten their hopes up for nothing.

Just as they are starting to wonder if they've made a mistake and gotten this completely wrong, a trickle of water pours out of the spile, soaking the moss beneath their feet.

Dahlia could quiet literally sob her heart out at the sight of fresh water. She paces as she waits her turn, letting the others drink their fill before stepping near it herself. Ducking her head, she gulps back the water, feeling it soothe her scratchy throat.

It's warmer than any of them would have liked but beggars can't be choosers, and right now, the group of them would drain a bottle of damn bleach if it meant having something to drink. Mags is too fragile and old to bend, so Finnick instructs her to sit down and pours some water into a large leaf, using it as a bowl for her to drink out of.

Without their thirst to distract them, exhaustion takes over. Peeta is the first to fall asleep and both Mags and Wyatt follow soon after. Katniss reluctantly dozes off after an hour, head resting against Peeta's shoulder, and within a matter of minutes, they are tangled together like koalas, clinging to each other.

Everyone sleeps through a bell tolling twelve times and then a lightning storm on the far side of the arena and Dahlia can't help but wonder if they would sleep through a tornado, too.

Dahlia keeps her sickles firmly grasped in her hands as she and Finnick sit silently side by side, using a tall tree with long leaves to protect them from the weather, because despite it being the night time and the sun having gone away long ago, the air is still stuffy and humid.

Finnick convinces Dahlia to play twenty questions with him, but he's yawning after ten minutes. "Go to sleep," she instructs, coaxing him into resting his head in her lap. He resists, and she fixes him with a glare. "Don't be stubborn. You're clearly tired."

"And you have a concussion," Finnick retorts, cracking his knuckles one by one. "I'm fine."

"Bullshit," Dahlia says, refusing to give up. "Just lie down on my lap. I'm not going to bite."

"What if I'm into that kind of thing?" Finnick grins, trying to play it off with humour to hide how afraid he is of being vulnerable with someone. Even though it's something as simple as laying in someone's lap, it sends him into panic mode.

Dahlia cocks her head to one side, studying his face. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Finn. I'm not going to hurt you," she coaxes, watching as his shoulders sag ever so slightly, the tension his muscles hold dissipating. She sucks in a deep breath before taking a big step out of her comfort zone. "Baby, just lie down. I'm not gonna stop irritating you until you get some sleep."

His expression softens and Dahlia steels herself for his resistance. It never comes. Instead, he lies his head in her lap, using her thighs as pillows, and tucks his hands under his head. "Wake me up when you get tired, yeah?"

Dahlia's so taken aback by his willingness to trust her that all she can do is nod her head like a damn fool, and mutter a quiet, "Okay."

His body is taught with tension, clearly feeling out of his comfort zone as much as she's feeling out of hers. She smooths his golden curls out of his eyes, and he melts into her touch, allowing himself to take that leap of faith and place his trust in someone for the first time in his life. Blunt fingernails scratch at his scalp and he sighs contentedly, letting his eyes flutter shut.

A tiny smile pulls at the corners of Dahlia's lips. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmurs under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear her over the sound of the wildlife in the jungle. "You can go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up."

It seems that her reassurance is all he needs to hear, because he drifts off quickly, his chest rising and falling with soft breaths. She continues to smooth his hair back out of his face and comb her fingers through his golden locks.

She can't help but think how nice it would be for him to lie in her lap more often, but then her mind involuntarily takes her back to nights spent with Capitol men, and she shakes the idea out of her head. Sure, Finnick might be nice, but some of those men were nice, too, and it didn't turn out well in the long run.

A situation like this could only end one way and that was with Dahlia hurt and alone.

She refused to put herself through that agony again. She wouldn't let herself grow fond of him, even if deep down, she wanted to. It wasn't an option. It wasn't in the rules she had set out for herself. It was the one protocol she refused to break; falling in love.

Her head runs at a million miles a minute. She thinks of all the things that could go wrong if she let herself get attached to him. She could let him in, and he could break her heart, or worse, use her secrets against her. Her breathing grows fast and she has to consciously remind herself that she's catastrophising.

Bloom would tell her that she doesn't have a magic wand and can't see the future. Malaki would make her a cup of chamomile tea and sit her down in front of the roaring fire. Juniper would tell her she can't miss out on the opportunity of falling in love because she's scared, and in her head she tells Juniper to leave her alone, only because she knows she's telling the truth.

Minutes stretch into hours and there's no sound apart from the occasional gasp of air as Katniss wakes up and panics, only relaxing when her eyes lock onto Peeta snoring peacefully next to her. Dahlia watches this happen three or four times, and each time Katniss wakes, she whispers that it's okay. Katniss glares at her, but there's no malice behind her gaze, just distrust, which she can not be blamed for.

Dahlia narrows her eyes when she catches sight of a fog rolling in, and Katniss follows her line of sight. It's quick, much too quick to be caused by the weather, and Dahlia doesn't trust it. It's not natural, and it looks too thick, almost like the clouds have fallen from the sky.

Katniss outstretches her hand warily. Her fingertips barely graze the fog, but it's enough. With a guttural scream, she pulls her hand back, writhing on the floor and yelling out in pain. Although Dahlia is a few inches away, she can hear the sizzling of Katniss' skin as it blisters and boils.

Katniss starts to shake Peeta awake, shouting a warning over her shoulder to the others. "Run! The fog is poison! Run!"

Dahlia shakes Finnick awake and he shoots up iron-rod straight as if he's been poked in the back with a hot poker. "What's going on?" His eyes latch onto hers as he snatches his trident up, ready for battle.

"Run!" Dahlia screams as Wyatt helps him with Mags. She runs towards the fog, looping her arm through Peeta's, who's not able to run as fast as the others; he's still only getting adjusted to his prosthetic leg and the aftereffects of hitting the forcefield are showing. Katniss accepts her help gratefully for once, and between the two of them, they propel him through the jungle.

He trips over vines and branches, and the two girls are practically carrying him as the wall of fog gains ground on them. The mist extends further than the fog and latches onto their skin, burning like tiny flames. Peeta falls once more and stays down as the fog causes boils to show up all over the side of his face.

Dahlia slips, grabbing him by the hand and yelping when her skin touches the fog. Katniss failed to mention just how badly it stings, and she wants to wring Plutarch's neck for putting them into this situation. Finnick and Wyatt scream in the distance and despite all of her instincts telling her to move for them, she can't leave Katniss and Peeta alone. "C'mon. You can do it. Just follow our steps," she says, dragging him to his feet and not giving him much of a choice in the matter.

The blisters seem to have weighed him down some more and they're moving at a slower, stickier pace than before, which is definitely saying something. They trip once more and Dahlia's head is so sore that she stays down, hoping the fog will just take her, hoping that it won't be painful.

Wyatt slows to a stop beside them, skidding and slipping in the mud with Finnick and Mags right behind him. He gently taps Dahlia on the side of the face until her eyes open. "Don't think about it," he warns, hoisting her onto her feet and watching as she slips and falls again. He turns to the others. "She can't walk on her own. She's not even meant to be exerting herself."

"I can't carry Peeta," Katniss says, eyes prickling with tears. "I can't do it."

Finnick looks between Katniss and Peeta, at a loss. Mags hauls herself up, pats Finnick on the shoulder and plants a kiss on his cheek. "Mags?" He shouts as she heads straight for the fog. It takes both Katniss and Wyatt to hold him back from going after her. The canon sounds as he lets out another desperate plea of her name. "Mags!"

"We have to go," Katniss begs. "We have got to get out of here."

"She's right, Finnick," Wyatt says, lifting Dahlia over his shoulder like she weighs nothing. "I'm so sorry, but we have to keep moving. You understand that?"

Finnick sucks in a deep breath and loops one arm around Peeta's waist, while Katniss does the same to his other side. Time loses all sense of purpose as they bolt through the jungle, losing their balance and falling down an embankment.

Wyatt cradles Dahlia's head in his hands, using himself as a human shield to stop her getting a worse concussion than the one she already has. He takes the brunt of the fall, gasping when he makes contact with the solid ground, winded but thankful that he's spared his district partner.

None of them move as they wait for their imminent deaths to arrive--- but it never does.

Dahlia eventually crawls off Wyatt, lying flat on her back in the moss. She tilts her head to one side and watches as the fog condenses, pressing up against what looks like an invisible wall that pushes it back the way it came. "It's stopped," she croaks, head pounding with pain as she rolls onto her back once more.

Every bone in her body aches and the boils on the back of her neck sizzle and burn. All she wants to do is retreat into her head where it's safe and warm and nothing bad can happen, but right now, she knows she can't afford that luxury. So, instead, she stays as still as she can, and counts the number of stars in the sky to stay tied to the real world, no matter how awful the real world may be.

Katniss screams but she hasn't got the energy to turn her head and see what's happening. She closes her eyes, unable to stop her brain from shutting off. It's okay, her head tells her, just rest now.

One minute she's baking cookies with her mother and the next, Finnick's hovering over her with that worried crease between his brows. She swims in the lake with Ivy, only to find that someone is holding her underneath the water.

She immediately interprets it as a threat, thrashing about, and when she opens her mouth to scream, it achieves nothing; all she does is inhale a massive amount of saltwater. She vaguely makes out the sound of muffled shouting before she's yanked from the water, where she begins to cough up a lung.

Blindly, she reaches out and grabs hold of what feels like a rock, using it to haul herself up onto dry soil. Someone's hands are firm on her face and she lashes out, kicking and flailing about as she tries to wriggle her way out of their grasp.

"You're gonna hurt yourself," Finnick argues, voice firm but gentle as he blocks all of her attacks without breaking a sweat. "I don't want to touch you but if you keep writhing about, I'll have to."

Dahlia pries her eyes open and carefully looks up at the sound of his voice. Finnick frowns down at her, hands held out like he's approaching a frightened animal. His golden curls are flat on the top of his head from being wet and the corners of his eyes are crinkled with concern. "Stay--- just stay where you are," she warns, feeling around in the moss for her sickles and grabbing hold of them.

Hurt flashes across Finnick's face before he recovers. "Come on, now, honey, don't be stupid. I'm not going to hurt you. You know that." He takes a tentative step forward, only to find out that she is in fact, not, bluffing. She swipes with her sickles and he narrowly hops out of the way. "Honey. Calm down. You're fine."

"I don't want to do this," she pleads. "So just stay there for a minute."

Finnick nods his head reluctantly. "Alright. I won't come any closer. Just clam down, yeah?" He says, sitting on a nearby rock. "Take a breath. You're okay."

Dahlia glares at him, but there's no real heat behind her gaze. Finnick doesn't take it personally, anyway; he knows that she is just putting her walls back up because she's scared, and that's the only way she knows how to protect herself. "You tried to kill me," she snarls.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Finnick laughs incredulously. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Well, why else were you holding me under the water?" she snaps, holding out her sickle. "You better start explaining."

Finnick sighs. "The water helps with the burns from the fog."

"What fog?" Dahlia asks, mind still hazy from swapping and changing from the world in her head and the one that's real. Finnick's brows dip and it takes a minute for her to piece together what's going on. "The poison fog?"

He nods slowly, and answers with, "Yeah. Did you not notice the burns are gone?"

She looks away for a moment, making sure to keep him in her peripheral vision as her hand flies up to touch the skin of her neck. It's still sensitive and warm to touch, but there's no more lumps or boils. "I don't understand. This can't be real. This is just something I made up in my head."

"No, honey, it's real," Finnick soothes, wanting nothing more than to just reach out and wrap her in his arms. He can see the doubt in her eyes, and he sighs. "Do you remember when I promised I would tell you the truth, hm?" She hums suspiciously. "Well, I don't break my promises. This-- all of this-- is real. I swear it."

Dahlia shakily pushes herself to her feet and says, "I believe you." She can feel the others staring at her as she sits in the small creek of water. Wyatt and Peeta go to find some fresh water from a nearby tree using the spile and Katniss gathers their weapons together, leaving her and Finnick on their own.

She soaks her feet and slowly lowers herself in until she's floating on her back. It's something that Wyatt taught her to do years ago. A grounding technique, he had called it. She still doesn't really know what's that's supposed to mean, but for some reason, it works.

Finnick scoots closer to her, inch by inch, until he's sitting in the water only a few feet away from her. "You okay now?"

Dahlia stares at the sky to stop herself from having to look at him. "I'm sorry. I just.. get confused sometimes."

His tongue darts out to wet the corners of his lips. "Can I ask... why?"

"It's a long story."

"I have time."

"I don't know how to explain it," she answers honestly. "I can't put it into words."

Finnick hums his acknowledgement. "That sounds hard to deal with. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Dahlia frowns. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No one's ever asked me that before," she admits.

"Ever?"

"Ever." She pauses, the words lingering on her lips as she sits up in the water. "I'm sorry about Mags. I know how much she meant to you."

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the lump in his throat. "She was never going to make it."

"That doesn't make it hurt any less," she says gently. "I'm here, you know that, right? If you need to talk to me, I'm here. I can't promise I'll always have the answers, but I'm a good listener. Or so I've been told, anyway."

Finnick opens his mouth to thank her, but the words get caught in the back of his throat as his gaze catches on something over her shoulder. She stills, too afraid to move in fear of what he's looking at. Neither of them speak as they reach for their weapons at the side of the creek, and that's when Dahlia sees it.

Heavy creatures balance on branches in the trees, tufts of orange fur sticking up in all directions as if they've been electrocuted.

"Monkeys," Dahlia mutters under her breath. Finnick looks at her as if to ask how she knows. "Ivy asked for one for her birthday, but they didn't look like these ones."

Katniss quietly sneaks up on them, pressing her back against theirs to provide coverage from all angles. Her bow is loaded with two arrows, as she tells them, "They're mutts." She calls for Peeta and Wyatt, who turn around at the sound of their names, faces dropping as they see the animals surrounding them. "Walk over here slowly," Katniss instructs.

Peeta grabs the spile and his sword while Wyatt pulls a couple of daggers out of his back pocket. It's hard for Peeta to keep his steps quiet with the loud thump of his metal leg hitting against the moss, but he manages it, little by little.

"We need to get to the beach," Wyatt mutters to the others, spinning on his heel as the monkeys start to crowd in on them. One lunges for him and Dahlia rips it's head off with one swift swipe of her sickle.

The mutts are relentless with their attacks, and nobody holds back as they fight off the animals. Katniss is pushed underwater by one and Wyatt spears his dagger into it's chest, helping her up as the monkey's body goes limp. "Go! Get to the beach!"

Despite the beach growing closer and closer the further they run, the mutts are gaining ground on them, and fast. Dahlia screams in pain when one sinks it's claws into her leg and kicks it full force in the face. She hobbles towards the beach, swiping and hitting out with her sickles, letting out all of the rage she's kept bottled up for years on end.

They are mere metres from the beach when it happens; a mutt has Peeta pinned against a tree, ready to make one final blow, when a camouflaged morphling from Six jumps out of her hiding spot in the treeline, allowing the monkey to sink it's claws into her chest.

Peeta gasps and sinks his sword into the monkey's back, tossing it off the morphling. Between him and Katniss, they manage to carry her to the oceanfront, while Dahlia, Finnick and Wyatt try to hold off their attackers.

As they reach the beach, Dahlia turns her back for a split second to make sure they haven't left anyone behind.

A split second is all it takes.

Wyatt starts to scream bloody murder, and then it dies out into nothing but a dull whimper.

She turns back around.

Three monkeys have pounced on him, pinning him to the ground, sinking their claws into him over and over and over and over again.

A scream tears out of Dahlia's throat as she rushes to his side, using her sickles to slash at the monkeys and pushing them off of him like they weigh nothing. The monkeys snarl at her as she grabs Wyatt under the arms and starts dragging him across the sand, leaving a streak of crimson in his wake.

Dahlia sets him down gently on his back, trying her hardest not to panic when she catches sight of the blood seeping from his stomach and neck. "Oh God," she cries, hands tremoring violently as she tries to stem the bleeding.

Wyatt tries to speak, but only a gurgled sound comes out, followed by a trickle of red. "It hurts," he manages to choke out.

Dahlia starts to sob as she grabs his hand. "I know. I know, but you'll be fine. You hear me, it's going to be okay."

"Kill me."

Dahlia's blood runs cold. "What?"

"Kill me. Put me out of my misery."

Her voice shakes. "No." Finnick's at her side, a reassuring hand on her back. She can barely feel it. "No. I can't-- I won't!"

"If you don't do it, I'll do it myself," Wyatt reaches for a dagger and Dahlia tosses it into the sea. He grabs hold of the front of her wetsuit. "I'm begging you."

"You can't ask me to do that," she sobs, chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath. "You can't ask me to do that. It's not fair! I won't. I won't!"

Wyatt frowns, tears trickling down his face. "Please, Dahlia. Please. I'm scared."

Dahlia hunches over, screaming and crying as Finnick tries to coax her into his arms. "Close your eyes." She begs.

"What?"

"I can't do it if you're looking at me. I can't."

"I don't want to see the dark," Wyatt gasps. "I don't want the last thing I see to be darkness."

Dahlia wants to be sick. But she has to stay strong. If not for herself, for Wyatt. "It's okay. I'm gonna be right here with you, holding your hand." She intertwines their fingers together and he lets his eyes flutter shut. A tear rolls down his cheeks. "You see that light? You see it?"

"I see it," Wyatt whispers. "I see it."

"You're gonna follow it for me, okay?" She muffles a sob into her hand as she raises her sickle and presses the sharp end into his throat. He breathes out a sigh of relief and she nearly keels over at the sound. "I need you to follow the light, yeah? It'll be okay. The light will take care of you."

"Okay," Wyatt murmurs, brows knitted together as if he really can see the light.

"It's going to be okay." Dahlia repeats. "Okay?"

"Okay."

The canon sounds, he goes limp in her arms, and Dahlia bolts up the beach.

#grace talks🐚🌷#the hunger games #thgs #thg #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x fem!oc #finnick odair x you #sam claflin #catching fire #coming clean wp #coming clean #dahlia holloway

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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top 2 on wattpad rankings is making me feel more powerful than it should

but anyways here’s my wp if yall want it??

runningfrom2am on wp

and lmk over there if you came from tumblr!!

#runningfrom2am wp #wattpad link #tbosas fic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x y/n

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omenics · 5 months ago

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aha ha… hu guys… hi… im (not) back,, BUT HI!! ik none of my mutuals will see this but idk i kinda forgot abt this account for a while!! and lied abt my last post tbh HOWEVERRR i did start a fanfic… for game of thrones… just to let u all know…

and i turned 19 back in december!! also happy very lage new years’

#𖤓 MAIN — casual.#its on my wp and ao3 tbh but hey #yeah idk i dont even know if ill continue writinf on her atp #like i dont really have a LOT of effort for x readers atp idkk lol #im more focused on my book!game of thrones fic #which is oc x oc or oc x canon #and ive had sm interest in my oc so yeahhh #ill prob post it here as well #tho idk if anyone reads oc fics here

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sushirrrry · 1 year ago

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hiiiii guys! ♥️ so I'm a little new to the harry tumblr world (I've mostly been on stan twitter & wp for the past few years) but I'm looking to branch out & to write a bit more blurbs and other things not always focused on harry (mostly focused but just little bits here and there)

since I'm new I thought I'd give you a little intro to me!!

my name is emily (I go by em a lot but both are fine), use she/her pronouns, 26 (almost 27), been a harry fan since 2011 (!!!!), & I'm super into reading and writing and just being creative in general ✨

it feels weird to do introductions but I'm also wanting this to feel really fun & a change of pace from what twitter is like, so please let me know if there's anything I should know of or if you wanna share ideas/blurbs!! 🥰

#harry styles #hs #harry fanfic #harry wattpad #wp #harry styles fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #writing #writing blog #fanfic writer #harry writer #dadrry #softrry #harry x reader #harry styles smut #harry smut

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bastionbibi · 1 year ago

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Gosho really said the girlies didnt suffer enough and gave us WPS like what kinda sadistic nature

#lets make them hot AND tragic.#'but sir' his editor said 'surely not all of them?'#'yes. yes all of them'#'there are 5 of them sir. surely u cant. have mercy on thy readers.'#'no. they will be 5 of the handsomest characters in the series and they will die a tragic death except for the half blood twink.'#'sir.'#'do u want the bag or not'#'well'#*to the tune of ppg* and thats how the wps gang are born!!@!

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callmemana · 10 months ago

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I’m not a big Megan Moroney fan, but now I feel like I need to listen to this song 😭😭

Mustang Or Me — Jack Hughes

Summary; you and Jack break up and you head back home.

Content Warnings; angst, breakup, based on ‘mustang or me’ by megan moroney

I packed up my two-door Ford. He don’t love me anymore.

You stare at Jack defeatedly as you stood in the kitchen of your shared apartment , “So you just don’t love me anymore? After 2 and a half years of this you just stop?” Jack looked at you with a sad look on his face, “I’m sorry. God you don’t know how sorry I am.” You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it Jack. I’m gonna pack my stuff and drive back to Pittsburgh.”

Within an hour and a half the past two years of your life were packed up in a boxes in your old beat down mustang. You smiled sadly as you hugged Luke warmly, “Call me man. I’m gonna miss you.” Luke nodded as he hugged you, “I really wanted you to be my sister.” You hugged him back as you stayed silent. You got in your car and dialed your moms phone number, “Hi mommy. Yeah. I’m okay. I’m just coming home. For good. Okay.”

I cursed his name down 65. Need new brakes and new tires. Hell I’m tired.

You groaned as your car drifted slightly into the right lane of the road, “Damn it Jack!” You smacked the steering wheel as you forced the wheel straight. Jack had been on your ass about getting new tires, kept saying it was dangerous that your car drifted because of the cars. You knew he was right but you were too stubborn to listen to him, and you were currently wishing you did.

You also needed new brakes and you had been meaning to get them changed. You had just been so tired lately. You hated fighting with Jack because it made you just so drained and tired. You were just tired of it all. The drama, the stupid fights and feeling invalidated. You were just so tired.

Two years down the drain, two hundred thousand on the gauge.

You sighed as you continued your drive out of Jersey. The ‘Welcome To Delaware’ sign felt like a slap to the face. In the two years you’d been with Jack you saw that sign a handful of times. You two had taken a handful of weekend trips to a ski lodge in upstate Delaware. Two years of your life down the drain haunted you. Almost at much as your car mileage. Two hundred and fifty thousand miles. You shook your head as you were left in silence of your thoughts and the cars passing you.

A broken tail light, a broken heart. How’d we even get this far.

You hadn’t realized how far you had gotten until you saw the flashing red and blue light behind you. You pulled to the side of the dark country road as a police officer approached your vehicle. The man seemed to notice you were on the brink of breaking down, “Good evening ma’am. Do you know why I stopped you?” You tan a hand over your face, “No I’m sorry. I don’t even know where I am honestly. I’m heading to Pittsburgh.” The man nodded, “ You’re in Port Royal Virgina. A little out from Fredicksburg. You have a broken taillight that’s why I pulled you over.”

You sighed sadly, “I’m sorry officer. How much is my ticket?” The officer’s face softened as he took in your current state, “Don’t worry about it. Just get to Pittsburgh safely honey.” You sighed sadly as he walked away, your chest aching like someone had yanked your heart out of your chest.

I’m fighting back tears running on E. Who’s gonna break down first? This mustang or me.

You continued your drive and groaned as you saw the gas tank was hovering on the empty line. It was inevitable that your car would break down. You just hoped it would hold out until Pittsburgh.

A stranger asked if I was okay. Laughed it off said no what gave it away? Was it the leaking oil or the loneliness on my face.

You entered some gas station in the middle of a tiny town in Virginia. You grabbed a energy drink and a bag of chips before heading to the line. An older lady in front of you frowned at your sad expression, “Honey are you okay?” You shook your head with a small laugh, “No, how could you tell?” The woman smiled softly, “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” You smiled sadly, “Just moving home after a breakup.” The woman smiled and hugged you softly, “I’m sorry honey.”

I thought I was gonna make it home,but I heard our song on the radio.

You shook the memory of Jack out of your head as you turned up the radio as loud as possible. You hummed along as ‘Fast Car’ by Tracy Chapman was playing. Your head was finally cleared when the song concluded and the next song played.

Who’s if gonna be? I’d put all my money on me.

You pulled your car to the shoulder of the interstate. shutting it off as sobs wracked through your body. You hadn’t cried about the relationship ending until now. You weren’t naïve in any way but you had always thought you and Jack would be together forever. You didn’t anticipate a breakup or Jack losing feelings for you.

#writer: orphicdreamers wp #fanfic #hockey player x reader #hockey #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nj devils #new jersey devils #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #birdie reads #jack x reader #callmemanaficrecs

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slushnubwrites · 5 months ago

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Hiii!! I’ve published a Kang Dae-ho/Player 388 fic on wp if you would like to check it out! :)

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softcodeon-com · 1 year ago

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#softcodeon.com #editing #document #conver pdf #convert pdf to words #Edit pdf #Adobe reader #best alternative #best alternative for wps office

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allisluv · 7 months ago

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COMING CLEAN

chapter nine — the roof

pairing: finnick odair x fem!oc

content warnings: violence and the “who did this to you” trope. mentions of forced prostitution and selective mutism. lmk if i missed any!

word count: 3.2k

previous chapter — next chapter

Finnick nearly makes it out of the dining room without getting dragged into another one of his escort's pointless conversations.

Nearly.

"Finnick!" Cordelia calls, voice shrill and sharp as she struggles to keep up with him. He slows to a walk and presses the button for the glass elevator. Her chest heaves with heavy breaths as she moves to stand in front of him, hands on the plush of her hips. "Where are you going?"

Finnick crosses his arms over the front of his training outfit and stares straight ahead. "I'm going to see Dahlia.". She scoffs. "Do you have a problem with that, Cordelia?"

The elevator doors slide open. Cordelia juts her chin out and side-steps him, effectively blocking him from stepping into the lift. "I do, actually. You haven't attempted to practice for your private training session today! The games start in two days, Finnick. Dahlia is ill. You can't keep wasting your time on a lost cause. Dead weight isn't going to get you anywhere in that arena."

Finnick bristles, shouldering his way past Cordelia before he can say something he will come to regret later. He presses the button for floor nine and flips her off before the doors can close. She clings to the string of pearls sitting around her neck, and Finnick takes pride in knowing that she has finally been knocked down a peg or two.

He doesn't allow himself to dwell on the fact that his escort is entitled-- that much he could've figured out himself. Instead, he focuses on the floors whizzing past him at the speed of light and the warmth that floods his chest when he sees Dahlia curled up in a ball on the leather sofa, legs tucked underneath her.

Dahlia doesn't seem to notice him until he hops over the back of the sofa and settles beside her. She flinches, and the movement causes the plate of cinnamon rolls balancing on her knees to go flying. Finnick catches them before they can fall, and he offers her an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

Dahlia shakes her head as if to get rid of the bad thoughts in her head. "It's alright. It's just being here that makes me jumpy, you know?" Finnick hums his agreement and absentmindedly rubs a soothing pattern into the the skin by her shoulder blades. She's too caught up in her thoughts to even register his touch and how much she likes his skin on hers. "I don't know why I said that. I'll shut up now, sorry."

"You don't have to apologise," Finnick answers honestly. "Not to me."

Dahlia tentatively meets his eye. "Really?"

"Really."

Dahlia's tongue darts out to wet the edges of her lips. "Thank you."

Finnick's brows knit together. "For what?"

"For staying with me when you didn't have to. But mostly for being you."

A lump forms in Finnick's throat. He's used to being too much for everyone, so knowing that he doesn't have to dim his light for her makes something ache in his chest. For once in his life, he's lost for words, so he resorts back to the one thing he knows he excels in; flirting. "Are you going soft on me, Dahlia Holloway?"

She hits him with an embroidered pillow from the sofa and ducks her head to hide her smile. He sees it anyway. "Tell anyone and I'll kill you." She stretches her arms behind her head and stands to her feet, padding across the floor. She stops halfway across the room and turns to face him. "I have to get changed. Wait here for me?"

"'Course," Finnick answers, reaching for the remote control on the coffee table. There's not a lot to watch, unless you count the Capitol's propaganda as entertainment. He's flicking through the channels when an interview catches his attention.

Caesar Flickerman sits at a round table with a panel of media personnel. The headline written across the bottom of the screen reads, "Who's a real contender this year?"

"Yes, I think you're right. Johanna Mason is a strong contender. I could easily see her winning the Games this year," Caesar agrees. "But there's one person that I think every other tribute in that arena should be afraid of." He presses a button on a hand-held control and a picture flashes up on the screen behind him. "Dahlia Holloway. Victor of the 67th Hunger Games."

Finnick's finger hovers over the skip button, but something stops him from pressing it. Maybe it's Cordelia's words about her being dead weight. Maybe it's the fact that he's never really been told what exactly went down in Dahlia's games. Maybe it's morbid curiosity. He doesn't know. What he does know is that he keeps watching.

A chorus of agreements break out from the panel of interviewers but a stout man on the far right shakes his head and leans into his microphone. "She's from District Nine, so trust me when I say that I don't think this year's tributes have anything to worry about. She's not a threat."

Finnick quirks a brow.

Some of the interviewers laugh.

Caesar looks at him as if he's grown three heads. "You think that she is not a threat?" he repeats. The man nods. "Gregory, forgive me for being crass, but are you out of your fucking mind?"

Gregory rears back as if he's been slapped across the face.

"The Capitol love her, don't we, ladies and gents?" Caesar prompts. The live audience erupt into cheers. "Do you know why they call her the Angel of Death?" He's met with silence. "Her district partner was killed and something seemed to snap in that pretty little head of hers. That arena was a bloodbath because of her. She killed thirteen tributes, some with her bare hands."

Nova Castor, an interviewer that Finnick recognises from his time spent in the Capitol, chimes in. "Didn't they say that she never fully got her sanity back?" She shuffles through a stack of papers, licks her pointer finger, and reads from a page. "According to an inside source, 'Dahlia is unstable and a danger to others.'"

"That's the rumour," Caesar says.

"Those assholes will say anything to sell a story," Wyatt pipes up as he crosses the room and sits in a velvet armchair. Finnick shuts off the television and Wyatt throws a piece of popcorn into the air before catching it in his mouth. "Don't stop on my account," he says through a mouth full of food.

"I wasn't-- I don't believe any of that!" Finnick insists.

"I know. I just like watching you squirm.”

Finnick scoffs and rolls his shoulders back. "You're a sadist."

"I've been told," Wyatt answers, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "So, loverboy, what're ya doing here?"

Finnick juts his chin out defiantly and rolls his shoulders back to make himself appear taller than he is. He knows Wyatt isn't preparing for a fight, and neither is he, honestly, but after growing up in a career district, he can't afford to be caught off guard, either. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

Suppressing a laugh, Wyatt holds his hands up in surrender. "Look, I'm trying to be civil here, for Dahlia's sake more than my own. She likes you, and she'd have my head on a pike if I told you to go fuck yourself like I really want to." He straightens up in his chair, yet his ankles stay crossed on the coffee table. "Dahlia's a good girl. She's been through her fair share of trials. So, if you hurt her, you can forget the arena-- it'll be me you'll answer to."

"Is that a threat?" Finnick muses with a grin.

"No. It's a promise."

"Pack it in, will you?" Dahlia snaps as she leans against a marble pillar that separates the living room from the dining room. "If you really have my best interests at heart, you'll stop abusing my fake boyfriend and get your ass up so we can get a move on." He slams the popcorn bowl down onto the coffee table with more force than necessary. "And lose the attitude."

"Yes, ma'am," Wyatt teases, offering her a mock salute.

Dahlia marches towards the glass elevator and presses the button. It opens almost immediately, and Wyatt hops inside, holding the doors open. She glares over her shoulder and arches a sharp brow in Finnick's general direction. "Are you coming or what?"

Like a dog being called by its master, he jumps up from the sofa, slipping and sliding across the wooden floorboards in shoes that clearly have no solid grip on them. He brushes his blonde hair out of his face and clears his throat to fill the silence while the elevator drops down nine floors to the basement, where their private training sessions are to be held.

Despite being earlier than necessary, they are still the last to arrive. Everyone's eyes flit to them and Finnick can feel Dahlia stiffen beside him. Gently, he intertwines their fingers together, offers her a small smile, and tells her that she's safe. "Just focus on me, yeah?"

Dahlia sucks in a deep breath and gives him a rigid, barely there, nod of her head. Her hand grips his like a vice as they venture further into the room. The Careers are analysing their movements, and Dahlia can feel them watching her, which does little to soothe her paranoia.

Thankfully, her distraction comes in the form of an old woman with a gummy smile and thinning grey hair. Finnick leans down and presses a chaste kiss to her cheek as a way of greeting, and the woman grabs Dahlia by the hand. Her grip is gentle but she still has to supress a wince; she's not used to being touched so much.

"You must be Mags," Dahlia smiles softly. "I'm Dahlia."

Mags raises her hand and spells something out with her fingers.

Finnick squeezes Dahlia's hand to get her attention. "She had a stroke a decade ago, so she uses sign language to communicate."

"Well, that's not a problem," Dahlia grins, loosening her hold on Finnick's hand and signing a few words to Mags. "I haven't signed in years, so I might be a bit slower than what you're used to, I'm sorry."

For the first time in years, Mags' face lights up like a Christmas tree. She waves Dahlia's apology off and loops her arm through hers, leading her to sit down in the waiting area. Cashmere offers her a small smile as she sits down, and it eases her nerves ever so slightly. Mags ropes her into a conversation and as the tributes are called in one by one, she finds herself relaxing.

Mags strokes Dahlia's hair before she's beckoned into the training facility.

Finnick barely gives the door a chance to close behind Mags before he asks, "How do you know how to sign?"

Dahlia draws her bottom lip between her teeth and drops her voice an octave so no one else can eavesdrop. Finnick leans in close so he can hear her. "My sister, Ivy, she doesn't speak, so we had to learn other ways to talk to her."

"Is she an Avox?" Finnick wonders. Dahlia flinches and he immediately backtracks. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry."

She shakes her head. "You don't have to apologise. Ivy hasn't spoke for the better part of eight years, but she's not an Avox. She just... doesn't speak. Or won't, I guess." Her tongue darts out to wet the edges of her lips. "She saw my mom and dad die," she admits quietly. "She hasn't spoke since. They say it's a trauma response or something. Just another thing I fucked up," she laughs bitterly.

Finnick angles his head to meet her eye. "It's not your fault." He gently reaches out and tilts her chin up with his pointer finger and thumb. "You can't blame yourself for that, you hear me? I'm sure Ivy doesn't blame you, either."

Dahlia opens her mouth to ask him how he knows that for sure, when his name is called over the speakers. "Good luck," she smiles softly. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Finnick sneaks a quick kiss onto her cheek and throws a wink over his shoulder on his way out of the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Johanna Mason throws herself into the free seat on Dahlia's right. "Why weren't you in training for the first day? I was looking for you," she says, running a hand through her short red and black hair.

"I haven't seen you in the better part of a year and the first thing you want to do is interrogate me?"

Johanna points her finger in Dahlia's face and makes a circular motion. "Stop deflecting. Where were you?"

Dahlia tongues the inside of her cheek. She often forgets that Johanna can read her like a book; they are best friends, after all. Okay, best friends that haven't seen each other in months, but her point still stands. "I wasn't feeling well."

Johanna cocks her head to one side, narrowed eyes surveying her face for any sign that she may be lying. Dahlia can almost see the lightbulb appearing over her head. "Don't tell me you let that man get you knocked up already."

Dahlia's jaw drops and she socks Johanna in the arm. "You fucking bitch!"

Johanna throws her head back in a laugh that borders on psychotic. "You are so easy to rile up."

As the tributes from district five and six are called in, Johanna keeps her thoroughly entertained by detailing the latest drama from her town back in district seven. The announcer calls her name over the speaker and she ruffles Dahlia's hair, telling her how they must catch up before they are sent to their imminent deaths.

Cecelia and Woof from eight disappear through the door and then it's Wyatt's time to shine. She wishes him good luck and focuses on steadying her breathing. Her tremors are back, and there's a part of her that knows they won't go away until she's calmed back down again, so there's not a chance in hell that they'll be gone by the time she stands in front of the Game makers.

"Dahlia Holloway."

Her heart hammers hard against the sleek fabric of her training outfit as she pulls the door open, ignoring the way the hinges creak in protest. This section of the basement is more modern, with high ceilings and, like the other training centre, an apartment that looks down over the gym.

She can feel Plutarch tracking her every move with his eyes, almost as if he's challenging her, seeing if she still has what it takes to keep Katniss safe in the arena. An array of weapons sit on a fold-away table and her lithe fingers skim the handles of the sickles. She picks one up and slices it through the air, trying to get back into the swing of things again.

Her panic makes her dizzy, but she refuses to let that fear show. Instead, she struts towards a box that can make holograms appear. She toys with the settings for a minute or two, two sickles that she chose hanging limply by her side.

The lights inside of the simulation booth must be sensitive to motion because the second Dahlia steps inside, the overhead lights dim, plunging her into complete and utter darkness before gold strip lights kick into action. She has barely enough time to tighten her grip on the sickle before a bright-orange hologram charges at her with a sword aimed straight for her heart.

Dahlia drops her weight to the ground, swiping her weapon through the air and separating the hologram's ankle from its body. She plunges her sickle into its chest and watches as it dissolves into tiny orange cubes.

Another hologram appears out of thin air, pulling back the string of it's bow and letting an arrow go. Dahlia slices the arrow in half, splitting it down the middle and throwing one of the sickles. It flies through the air and lodges itself into the hologram's neck.

As she knocks down holograms like bowling balls, she slowly relaxes into the familiarity of it all; the feeling of the sickle grounding her, the handle digging into her hand and leaving the imprint of the Capitol seal in her palm. Her hair grows damp with sweat, and by the time the holograms disappear for the final time, she's managed to kill thirty-three of them in total.

Dahlia drops the sickles and keels over, hands bracing her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Once she's sure her stomach isn't going to empty its contents all over the floor, she stands up tall and walks out of the simulation booth.

Plutarch meets her eye across the room and Dahlia tilts her head higher, silently challenging him to tell her that she's not good enough after a performance like that.

A smile stretches across his face, and he nods his head once.

Dahlia turns on her heel and leaves.

˚＊✿❀༓❀✿＊˚

Dahlia is called out on a last-minute "business meeting" in the Capitol and does not return home until three o'clock the next morning.

She avoids the ninth floor altogether and heads straight for the roof. As the elevator doors part on the rooftop, she flings her stilettos to one side and walks towards the ledge, barefoot, despite the fact that temperatures are likely below zero.

Her exhaling breaths come out in a cloud of cold air as she sits on the ledge, legs dangling off the side. The elevator doors beep again, announcing someone's presence, but she can't be bothered to see who it is. "What do you want, Finnick?"

He hoists himself up and sits on the ledge beside her. "How did you know it was me?"

"You always seem to be following me around."

He chuckles under his breath and it makes her smile. "You got a ten in your training."

"What did you get?" Dahlia wonders aloud.

"Eleven." He pauses. "You weren't gonna jump, were you?"

Dahlia shakes her head softly. "No, Finn, I wasn't going to jump. I just wanted to go somewhere where I wouldn't be interrogated." His brows knit together in confusion and she finally looks at him. "I was with a client. Malaki always waits up to make sure I get home alright."

Finnick keeps his hand in Dahlia's peripheral vision when he reaches up and brushes his thumb over the bruise blossoming across the apple of her cheek. "What's his name? The client?" Dahlia drops her gaze and he tilts her chin up with his pointer finger. "Give me a name."

She quirks a sharp brow. "Why? What are you going to do? Kill him?"

Finnick shrugs non-committedly. "If you want me to." She smiles sadly and he knows what that look means. There's nothing anyone can do, even you. He threads his fingers through his golden locks in frustration. "I hate seeing you hurt."

Dahlia scoffs. "Don't tell me you're growing fond of me."

Finnick knocks his shoulder into hers. "And so what if I am?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. People I love have a tendency to get hurt."

"So, you love me now?" he teases.

Dahlia throws her head back in a laugh. "Watch it. I'll push you off if you keep it up."

"No, you won't."

"What makes you so sure of that?”

"Because you love me."

#grace talks🐚🌷#the hunger games #coming clean wp #finnick odair x oc #dahlia holloway #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #headcanons #thg #thgs

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planetallure · 10 months ago

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⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ dark!fic recs

CW: once again, these works contain dark and explicit themes that may be upsetting or triggering to some. please use your discretion and discernment.

@cherienymphe : when i first seriously got back on tumblr and got into dark!fanfic, cherie's was one of the first blogs i found. her writing was essentially my indoctrination. it was terrifying how much i loved it/her writing. truly phenomenal. i've read quite of few of her stories (mainly for rafe cameron, jj maybank, steve rogers, and peter parker) but i'll list my faves.

"when the party's over" - its something about this series...i think about it often. if you're into forced pregnancy or corruption tropes, tap in.

"wicked games" - i actually first read this one on ao3 before i discovered her tumblr and was absolutely gagged. another one i think of often.

"amnesiac" - the first series of hers that i ever read. absolutely traumatized me and i sobbed reading it. amazing storytelling.

"the hills" - another bangerrr. a one night stand ends in complete and total blackmail and entrapment. he just wanted to give her a better life *clown face emoji*.

"his father's son" - after ward death, rafe takes over the reins in more ways than one.

"teenage dirtbag" - this series single handedly made me a jj girl. the tension??? yup yup mhm.

"the less i know the better" - ironically my favorite part of this story is readers relationship with rafe but seeing jj slowly and then rapidly descend into madness? yeah.

"claimed" - a/b/o dynamics. brought me back to my wattpad days. still eat it up.

"daddy dearest" - steve meets a single mom and decides to be not the stepdad, but the dad who stepped up.

i'll be honest, i was a non believer in dark!peter but: "she's with me", "one last time." "suburbia" and "basic training" made a believer outta me. hands. down.

@lambtotheslaughterr : it absolutely amazes me the things that come from her mind. the level of creativity and originality needs to be studied. oona, you are criminally underrated.

“rise” - the first series of hers that i read. arguably the best series i’ve read on here thus far. this is the first part to her “the day the world ended” universe and it completely blew me away. i couldn’t believe that something like it had come from some silly little boat show. just brilliant.

“when the bough breaks” - the first work of hers i read. this one for me was a heartbreaking slow burn story, but the smut…makes up for it. yes yes.

“i burn” - sex!addict reader x rafe cameron. need i say more? actually, i will. the smut and tension in this one towards the end? it was shameful how turned on i was.

“one way or another” - buckle up, grab a snack, and prepare for the ride of a lifetime. that’s it.

“something wicked this way comes” - a single mom trying to escape her past, except her past is rafe cameron. this was one very spooky scary la la.

"summit" - the second part to the tdtwe universe. its still brand new but its already feeling like another banger, i mean it's oona. tap in.

@harryspet : rae was also apart of my indoctrination and boy did she do what needed to be done. her perfectly curated moodboards alone did it for me. very mindful, very demure.

"homestead" - what can i say...i'm a sucker for pregnancy stories :( and this series was no exception. absolutely delectable. enjoy.

"well kept" - classic millionaire ceo x reader, my younger wp reading self cheered gleefully. my love language is acts of service and boyy was this one speaking my language. had me at "scheduled braiding appointment."

"bambi eyes" - this one was one of those that made me want to take a good long look in the mirror and ask myself, "is this who we are...is this what we represent?"

@sherrybaby14 : this one is for the mcu girlies. more fics than you could ever ask for. everyone say "thank you, mother!"

"the distraction" - i'm starting to notice a kidnapping/stockholm syndrome pattern here...ANYWAY! work is realllyy stressful for steve and you just happen to be the perfect distraction.

@straywords : she's no longer active but her incredible writings remain so please, peruse. its like a beautiful museum over there.

"a break" - *gasp* another pregnancy story! stucky edition.

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor : an icon, a legend, she is the moment! another infinite library for my mcu girls. roo has all you could ever want or ask for.

@perlelune

"all too well" - yes, yes, another one, its who i am. rafe cameron proving once again that you can't escape him.

"lucky" - best friend!rafe x reader. he didn't know what he had until it was almost gone

"tag, you're it" - never read a scream fanfic before this one but boy did i have fun! chad is so pookie in this too :(

@honestsycrets : back when i was in my miguel era, sy single handedly kept me fed.

"starved | mio" - "mio", in which you babysit mayday and it gives miguel baby fever and "starved", in which he made you a mom...but its left less time for other activities.

"stung" - sex pollen/abo. reader gets bitten by an anomaly causing a reaction that only miguel can cure

"amor y respeto" - he just can't love you the way you need to be. so you and miguel break up...at the worst possible time.

"exclusive" - you and miguel are fuckbuddies. you want more, but miguel can't bring himself to give it to you. so you find company in hobie, who's there for you in all the ways that you need. miguel's not happy about that.

"canary" - you're a singer in the 1920s who's fallen in with the dangerous o'hara brothers.

"grande" - sex!worker miguel x assistant!reader. think...a pepper x tony kinda dynamic. except, miguel doesn't take kindly to certain slights. :)

@starfxkrinc : last but certainly not least! moony is a ridiculously talented writer and a mutal of mine. i found her early on during my resurgence on here. this is her new side blog (rip lovesickbrat and starfxkr!!) luckily she was able to salvage a lot of her past works and is back like she never left. i recommend her "western nights" series (really just the trailer park!jj tag in general) and her "ode to eaters" au. a queen of all things taboo. she does it for the girls who are drawn to the dark and scary. the gross and weird. <3

#lari's fic recs #dark!rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #dark!ethan landry #dark!ethan landry x reader #dark!ransom drysdale #dark!random drysdale x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #rafe x reader #jj x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x reader

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aeldata-usa · 2 years ago

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#WordPress website accessible #WCAG #Section 508 #Disabilities #Screen Readers #Accessibility plugins #WP Accessibility Helper #Accessibility by UserWay #One Click Accessibility #Accessibility Suite #Web accessibility audit #Accessibility Checker #SEO score

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nymphea0 · 7 months ago

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Kurkans Mate .

Mine and yours.

Yan! Ishakan x reader

(Special Chapter)

Warning : Mature content! Before you read this, make sure you are old enough, children and minors are prohibited from reading this story chapter.

Manhwa :약탈혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Word count : 2.86 word

Hello, this is Neva, at your service. So glad all Ishakan series are complete. This is a special chapter that I updated especially for Tumblr readers who may not have WP. Because I'm sure some of my dears may not have WP. So, this is a special chapter for Ishakan series. Next project wss supernatural series. A monsters, i hope you all will like it this project as well:)

I added some POV characters here, which I didn't write in the WP special chapter. So, enjoy, my dears, lots of love- Neva🦋🦋 .

Might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

Kurkans Mate Pt. 1

Kurkans Mate Pt. 2

Kurkans Mate Pt. 3

Kurkans Mate Pt. 4

Ishakan stared at you full of love and lust, but he had to restrain himself!.

Leading you slowly towards the sofa that had a small table, gently pouring a typical Kurkans drink, 1 glass. Ishakan drank it first, then he gave it to you, he could feel you were hesitant to drink it! .

Ohh how cute his wife is! So innocent and gentle! Never even drank wine!.

You spent that night talking to Ishakan, to understand each other, to be open to each other because you are husband and wife now.

Ishakan even apologized to you, he didn't mean to kidnap or hurt Esmera, but his beast instinct said otherwise, Ishakan had even renovated Esmera's hut, even Esmera came to the wedding!.

Even though you didn't meet, Esmera did come to see in the form of an owl, happy at least you were safe in the hands of the Kurkans, Esmera had been watching from afar, anticipating that if the Kurkans treated you badly, then she would take you back by force.

It turns out that Ishakan is not as bad as you thought, he is an understanding man, he doesn't care whether you can get pregnant or not, because Ishakan brought you into his life to love you and spend his life until old age waiting as his partner, his wife.

With a position facing each other you are currently on the balcony.

Ishakan looks at you lovingly, the moon is full in the sky, his heart is beating fast.

Ishakan cups your cheeks with his hands, stroking them gently with his thumbs.

"You are my world, I will never be afraid of losing or fear, as long as you are by my side and live together by my side until the end of my life, my Mate, I love you"

Tilted his head slowly, Ishakan kissed you, crushed it gently, carefully, the sound of your kisses filled the bedroom balcony.

Ishakan's hand easily pulled you to his side closer, deepening your kiss, eroding the distance between you, one of his hands was around your nape, his lips and tongue were busy tasting your lips and tongue, taking notes of every content of your mouth.

His other hand was on your waist, stroking and squeezing softly making you moan softly, only making him more aroused.

With one movement of his hand, Ishakan lifted and carried you into the room without breaking the kiss between the two of you.

Dropping you gently, Ishakan saw you under him, panting, face red and out of breath, lips swollen from his kiss.

Opening his wedding dress, showing his chest and body that were perfect for a king.

Ishakan kissed you again, biting your lower lip softly, making you moan softly, his tongue dancing and claiming yours.

His hands did not stay still, placing both of your hands above your head held with one of his left hands, his right hand, moving to stroke from your cheeks, neck, collarbone, the center line between your chest.

Teasingly stroking the line of your stomach that made you moan softly. smirking softly, knowing that you were sensitive all over your body, his hands went down to the lower part of your body.

Pulling up your red dress slowly, showing your legs and thighs, pulling them straight with his hands, kissing your ankles softly.

Lowering himself from the ankles to along the knees, biting your thighs, your knees leaning on his shoulders, leaving bite marks on your soft thighs, Ishakan got closer, until he was right in front of your core, wet and full of the scent of passion!

He had to hold himself back, it wasn't time for him to be brutal, not yet.

Pulling with his two fingers, Ishakan sensually opened your panties, showing your core completely without any clothes on there.

You who are embarrassed try to cover it! But unfortunately Ishakan holds both your hands.

Spreading your legs, your face turns red with embarrassment.

Looking at you, Ishakan just smirks and breathes into your core, which makes you sigh stifled.

Sticking out his tongue, Ishakan tastes your core, which makes you sigh unable to hold back anymore, you are very sensitive just from his kiss before, you have never felt anything like this!

Ishakan's tongue moves skillfully, from the middle to the core of your clit, sucking, licking, feeling, even widening your core.

You can't think clearly just your tongue but it has made you lose your mind.

Your hand that Ishakan has released, is around his hair, sighing, gasping for breath, Ishakan's other hand also doesn't stay still, his hand is busy scooping, squeezing, playing with your right chest, tearing with just one pull of your top dress.

Making you naked showing your chest, his hands are busy twisting and squeezing.

Your moans are getting louder indicating that you will come soon.

When you are about to come, Ishakan replaces it with his finger, making you increasingly losing his mind and moaning more and more.

"Take it out honey, come on, you can, smear my finger with your essence loves, come on my rabbit~"

Pulling and inserting his finger quickly, you come for the first time in your life!

Moaning almost screaming, eyes unable to open wide, biting your lower lip slowly.

For Ishakan this sight is very beautiful, very sexy and exciting, only him, only Ishakan can make you like this.

Growling primally, Ishakan forcibly pulls your lower dress, making you naked, so exposed to his eyes.

Ishakan then brings his finger filled with your love fluid to his mouth, sucking and tasting it.

You who stare at it can only be embarrassed, he looks at you with full primal!.

Your legs are spread wide, Ishakan opens his pants.

He's big, very big! Does it even fit?!.

"Isha... it doesn't seem to fit... this is my first time"

Ishakan just laughed in amusement seeing your worried expression, kissing your lips softly, Ishakan distracted your thoughts.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be okay"

His kiss went down to your neck, sucking and biting it on the right and left, leaving love bite marks on your neck.

His kiss went down to your shoulder, biting gently then to your collarbone, then to your chest, kissing gently, then putting your nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily, his other hand didn't stay still, giving the same attention to your chest that he sucked, his fingers twisting, pulling and squeezing your chest.

Moaning was the only thing you could do because of Ishakan's actions on your body.

Ishakan's hand then went down to spread your legs, with a gentle push, inserting himself, uniting with you.

You who were doing it for the first time, of course screamed in pain considering Ishakan who was also very big. Ishakan kissed your lips and neck, to ease your pain. It worked.

Slowly, the sound in the room that the two of you would use in the future, was filled with the sound of love, passion, and lust. The sound of skin slapping was very clear, Ishakan's sighs, and growls blended with the atmosphere full of the first night.

You're not sure how many hours or maybe days it's been? You can only be busy moaning, groaning and following Ishakan's direction.

While Ishakan? That man, your husband is busy moaning in your ear, moaning vulgarly and shamelessly in your ear.

His hands are busy playing with your breasts and hips, while his own hips? Busy moving back and forth, the point is entering your core.

Those 5 days, you were slaughtered by Ishakan, unable to hold back anymore, on the 5th day, you fell unconscious, while Ishakan? That man just chuckled and cleaned your body.

It's just a matter of time for Ishakan, he will soon become a father, and so will you, become a mother.

Blood union Between the Antrabeth and Kurkans tribes, two tribes that are above the other races.

This is not a dark or light story, but this story is about how Ishakan, can convince his mate, even by kidnapping which for some people is an abnormality, but this is the Kurkans we are talking about, normality never exists in that tribe.

'The sound of a closed book'

In the garden a woman with blue hair, sits in a pavilion scattered with small fish ponds, with a pavilion podium studded with gold and high-quality wood, beautiful fabrics fall from each ceiling of the pavilion, creating a beautiful illusion, covering the outside view to see into the pavilion.

A small boy sits on the woman's lap, while a tall man is next to the woman holding a girl.

The woman had just read a story about "History Of Kurkans Mate"

"So how's the history? Are you not curious anymore again?"

The woman asked the two children who were of different genders, but with similar proportions, twins, the two children had the same blue hair as the woman, while their skin followed the color of the man sitting beside the woman.

The two twins just smiled and nodded before standing up and running to play with each other in the garden field right in front of the pavilion.

The man, put one arm around the woman's waist.

"The twins are big now, I think it's time we gave them a sibling, how about that my rabbit?"

Kissing the woman's cheek affectionately, while the Eve just blushed!.

"Ishakan?! Twins are only 7 years old! Not yet! I refuse!"

You've been together for more than 7 years, and the woman is you, you slap Ishakan's arm lightly, your husband.

"Oh my dear, it seems you have forgotten that, the Kurkans have never known the concept of refusing, the word no, refusal or disagreement"

Ishakan stood with you in his arms actually, bridal style! Those of you who are embarrassed, only can just cover your faces with your hands, you feel very embarrassed because the Servants and Sholdier/Knight are looking at you.

In the Kurkans palace, a desert surrounded by a large oasis, the Kurkans Kingdom thrived under the leadership of King Ishakan Kurkans, the best king in the history of Kurkans, with his mate who was also the best in history, there was no slavery, discrimination, racism or rebellion. There is only peace, happiness from one end of the kingdom to the other end of the kingdom of Kurkans.

For people who have visited Ishakan Kingdom, there are only a few things that those who have been there will say.

"It feels like the kingdom is like a myth"

On the other side of the desert continent of the Kurkans, there are several kingdoms that are also developing rapidly, one of which is the Estia kingdom.

Led directly by Queen Leah de Estia, a beautiful woman with a face like the moon. Anyone would fall in love seeing her so beautiful, perfect, almost like an angel falling from the sky.

One of the people who fell in love with her was none other than Leah's half brother. Bléon de Estia.

The man was crazy, of course , a sick and very twisted obsession. After the ambush and capture of the queen of Estia, Serdine.

Leah saw with her own eyes how Ishakan and some of the Estia courtiers burned Serdine. While Bléon, the man looked at Ishakan with envy. Nothing more and nothing less, thinking that Ishakan will take Leah from her.

Crazy about it, Bleon said to Ishakan.

"I have defiled the woman you are going to take, take her! Take the used goods that I have touched and play with them as you please, you savage monster!"

Right after the sentence was uttered, a head flew right in front of leah's eyes. Bléon's floating head flew and fell rolling and stopped right in front of her feet.

That night, Leah would never forget how Ishakan had saved her. And also the kingdom of Estia.

Leah sent a proposal, hoping that the kingdom of Estia and the Kurkans could become one.

But unfortunately, the proposal was rejected. Because it turned out that the king of the Kurkans himself already had someone to be proposed to.

On the wedding day of the king of the kurkans, where leah came as one of the honored guests, that's where she found out why ishakan rejected her proposal.

Herself as a woman if given the opportunity as a man, she might do the same thing as ishakan did. Kidnap that woman. For Leah, just by looking at her once she knew very well, the woman who was right in front of Ishakan, had made Ishakan, the barbarian kurkans, kneel. Very beautiful, small and fragile. Of course, Leah who did not have any special lines in her blood, more than knowing not to go any further to be with ishakan.

A woman from the Atrabeth tribe, the lover of nature. Of course leah knows for sure.

The two tribal myths are united in a soul bond.

For Leah, the story of Ishakan and the woman, the lover of nature from the Antrabeth tribe, felt very unreal.

As if they were just a myth.

The End.

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa @merveeeeesworld

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

#nevaerah #obsessed #possesive #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male #manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #ishakan x reader #predatory marriage #kurkans #ishakan

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femdomlieeh · 11 months ago

Text

Sunset (m)

Sub!Pussy drunk!Needy!Beomgyu (TXT) x Dom!Afab!Reader

THEMES—nsfw ✧ a bit romantic ✧ and emo ✧ just a tiny bit toxic ✧ a bit nasty

WARNING—4.3k wc ✧ public sex (car by the beach) ✧ good boy & bratty!beom ✧ oral (f rec.) ✧ body worship (f rec.) ✧ teasing (f/m rec.) ✧ face-sitting (m rec.) ✧ praising ✧ light degradation (calling him dirty, your little slut etc) ✧ hickeys (f rec.) ✧ spitting (m rec.) ✧ hand job ✧ crying ✧ brief cum play ✧ cumming untouched ✧ hair pulling (m rec.) ✧ pet names (mommy, baby, little slut etc)

NOW PLAYING—SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE ✧ Tyler, the Creator ft Brent Faiyaz & Fana Hues

M.LISTS—txt ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp

A/N. To sort out any possible confusion, this is what the interior of the car looks like; vintage, flat like a bed style. BUT imagine it's a roof less car🤟

You were sitting on the driver's seat with your right hand on the steering wheel, left hand up in the air, warm wind kissing your skin before you put it down to rest on the edge of the car door. He was laying across the passenger's seat with his head on your thighs, staring up at the sky. You were on your way to nowhere in particular. This was your definition of adventure. His smile was bright contrary to his past, his eyes were full of the hope of a child and his laugh was the sound of an angel. With his sock-clad feet on the edge of the door and his long, fluffy, soft hair on your exposed legs he lowly sang along to a song.

You were watching the road, he was watching the pineapple purple sky until his eyes were on you. Smirk grew on his face. God knows what was going through that mischievous mind of his.

You remembered his soft lips crafted by the most-detailed-and-in-love artist on the skin on your thighs. The kisses he left were so light, barely brushing against you. Your hand found its way to his hair, he looked up at you with those impure eyes as the kisses he placed got slightly rougher. He loved seeing your reactions to his touches, gaining your approval; the satisfaction of your pleasure. Insecure boy. And damn was he horny too. Or was he in love?

Maybe he just lived in the moment.

Who would have the idea of spontaneously driving to nowhere for no reason, taking off their shoes, resting their feet on the edge of a car driving in high speed to get fanned for free by Mother Nature, put their head on the driver's lap and start kissing their thighs?

Beomgyu.

That was the simple answer. Beomgyu and nobody else.

He was the kind of character you saw in films and wish you'd had the pleasure of acquainting yourself with in real life but you don't because those people came from someone's fantasy and were carefully written and too rare to find in real life. You were lucky to have met him. Your dear, sweet Beomgyu.

After some minutes, he turned his body completely and laid on his tummy so he could get easier access to your skin, instead of having to turn his neck to kiss. Wearing shorts today had its perks. Kisses were peppered with so much care as he put his hand on your left leg and caressed it lightly so it'd be occupied and get attention too. As each second passed by it got harder and harder to focus on the road. He was such a distraction and he knew it. He loved distracting you. He loved any attention you gave him really, whether it was direct words when you'd praise or degrade or just knowing he was present in your thoughts whenever he received a cute "I miss you" text during long work hours.

"Baby, what are you doing?"

After two extra passionate kisses he answered, "Loving you."

"I'm driving."

Kiss. "Yes." Kiss. "And?" Kiss.

"Can't you love me some other time?"

He looked at you. Kiss. "Impossible." Kiss. "I can't not love you." Kiss.

You put your hand on his cheek softly, "I love you too, Beomgyu." Looking at the road, you couldn't see him but you felt his cheek move into a smile against your palm upon hearing your words. You smiled back at him, taking a quick glance at him and detecting a strand of hair in his eyes. In a split second you brushed his hair away, before Beomgyu went back to kissing your thighs again. He had always been so affectionate towards you, showing how much he appreciates all of you: your mind, your face, your body — your everything. He was so good with his words, hands and lips. You loved all of him.

A slow Lana Del Rey song later his featherlight kisses grew deeper until he was sucking on your flesh, trying to create purple marks. "You're making hickeys? How juvenile."

He laughed at your comment. It was true. Last time he remembered he'd put effort into creating hickeys was back in high school. "Maybe, but I bet your thighs will be so pretty with hickeys on them," he went back to work, making sure to suck more harshly to emphasise his point.

You were starting to get wet. And it was hard concentrating on the road and trying not to look down at the pretty man's lips on your lap every minute. You were driving on an empty country road so, thankfully, nobody could witness this raw act of love. Five or six or — who knows? — that's how many hickeys Beomgyu had created already and he was not finished yet. He experimentally bit on your thigh, looking up at you to observe if you liked it. "Hmmm." His bite got a little bit harder, still looking at you. "A bit gentler, Baby," you patted his head. "Okey," he smiled cutely at your small action and nickname and went back to the same force as on the first bite. Fuck, you needed to get out of this car and fuck him soon or you would go crazy.

The sun had begun to set. 19:22. There was plenty of time until the sun was down and gone. The sky was still somewhat bright with colours of pink and blue. You wanted to watch this beautiful sunset with Beomgyu but he was busy with his face in your thighs. Your eyes were on the empty road, looking at the signs and trying to come up with where to go when you recognised a name you'd heard of before when talking with friends about a nice little beach trip — if you made a turn in a few kilometers, you would soon make it to a pretty and unknown beach. Perfect!

You looked down. So many hickeys scattered around only on your right thigh, the left one only being touched by his hand. You rested your hand on the back of his head, playing with his long locks, "You're so pretty." He mumbled a little thank you on your skin, back to kissing your thigh gently now.

It all felt so sweet and romantic somehow, his big hand massaging your left thigh, slowly moving towards the inner part, fingers ghosting teasingly on your naked skin. He was distracting the driver with his mouth and hands — how could he make that feel sweet and romantic to the point you almost forgot how irresponsible you were being? Almost. Your eyes weren't on him. Most of your attention was on the road and he was only getting a tiny fraction of the attention he craved so much. Because he needed all of your attention right now. Sure, he needed your hands stroking his hair but he also needed your smiling eyes on him and your sweet and mean whispers; eyes and mind full of him only.

Determined to get more of your attention, he moved his unholy fingers towards your pussy. "You're so dirty," the grip you had on his hair tightened and he whined. He would always do this, turn to being bratty if he didn't get enough attention from you. If a good boy wouldn't get all your love and touches at least a naughty boy was sure to get all your degrading words and oh so lovely punishments — and he enjoyed being your naughty boy as much as your good boy; he could be anyone and anything you wanted as long as it meant he was the sole object of your affection.

His whines were always so pretty and light, causing you to clench your pussy around nothing. It never failed to impress you how he whined and moaned whenever you were the one being pleasured and not him. He moved up a bit and kissed your shorts right above your clit. There was fabric hindering the full sensation but you still felt it a little, already so sensitive and wet from the teasing. He looked up at you. You had shorts on so it was a bit difficult to pleasure you the way he wanted to, but Beomgyu was creative and undid your zipper. As much as he wanted to pull down your shorts so he could properly eat you out — he wasn't that stupid and careless to actually do it when you were driving, right? — so you were curious where he was going with this but also nervous.

Nose pushing up your shirt so he could kiss the skin on your waist, naughty hand gliding under the shorts to feel your hip. There were no cars on the road — and there hadn't been for a while now — so you decided to tease him a bit back, put him in his place so he knows better than to completely ignore that you're driving and that he can't do everything he wants right now, he has to be patient and wait. You grabbed his chin and made him look up at you, looking back at him for a split second. "Open your mouth."

He did so even faster than you averted your gaze, waiting for your spit. "Aw, so eager now are we?" You said, still looking at the road.

"Please, look at me," he nodded and whined impatiently, mouth ready for your spit. He looked so pathetic, bedroom eyes and long, styled hair a bit fucked up from you gripping it. Touching your skin but not getting to feel your wetness, not getting to pleasure you was in a way teasing him too, his cock now hard and pink.

"You're so pretty, Baby." His mouth was still open but he almost looked like he smiled for a second.

You spat in his mouth fast, immediately looking back at the road. He swallowed it happily like always, no matter how humiliating and mean it was, especially since you didn't even look him in the eyes or let your saliva drip slowly into his mouth, much more intimate, like you usually would do. "Good boy."

"Thank you, Mommy," he went back to kissing your waist, nose under your shirt, eyes looking up at you. Your right hand went back to resting on his head, threading through his long hair occasionally. "Look at me, please." There was something about you spitting in his mouth that always turned him so pathetic and shameless about his neediness — if you wouldn't judge him for swallowing your spit then he could express himself sexually to the fullest.

"As much as I want to, I can't, Baby. I'm driving," you took a quick glance down at him. His eyes were so glossy, almost like they would fill with tears at any second. You were so distracted by him but you were still aware enough to only look at him for a maximum of two seconds at a time. Although you were driving below the speed limit and hadn't seen another car in the past half hour you didn't want to risk anything.

He whined at that, causing you to smile. Soon it would be the opposite. His hand went under you shorts again, moving down your hip and to your lower stomach. You had a feeling you knew where this was going. Spitting didn't help slow him down and learn to be patient. No, spitting so meanly in his gaping mouth was the first time he'd had almost your full attention during the whole car ride so he had to continue misbehaving so you would humiliate him some more, giving him more and more of your attention. Sweet, stupid, sexy Beomgyu was something else.

His long fingers went lower until they reached your slit, happy now. "Baby—" Then, somehow, under your tight shorts he managed to move your underwear to the side so he could slip his long, thick middle finger in you. "Hm?" he mumbled against your waist, mind half listening to you and half inside your pussy, eyes rolled back like it was his dick in your pussy and not just his finger. Fuck. You had to find a way to get off the road but you were not very familiar with this road or even this part of the country — but like said before, this adventure had no directions or map.

"Are you this desperate, slut?"

He pulled his hand out to stick his wet finger in his mouth, licking, savouring the little taste he got of your pussy and mumbling an 'mhm'. He wanted more. He didn't just want to suck on his finger. He wanted your pussy on his face, wetness on his tongue and all over his face.

"Please, look at me, Mommy," he mumbled like a slut, sticking his pussy wet finger inside you to lick your sweetness again, eyes never leaving yours, "Need your pussy."

"You have to wait, little slut," you soothed him with your hand on his cheek.

He felt like crying. He needed you to stop the car somewhere; anywhere, he didn't care if he had to lay on the cold evening sand on the beach that would get all over his clothes and hair or, fuck, he would even be ok in the woods next to a camp site with German hikers as an audience as long as you would sit on his face. He needed you and your attention now. His dick was leaking pre-cum and you had only touched his face and hair so far.

"Please, Mommy," he kissed your stomach, middle finger deep inside you.

"Baby, wait, be patient," you were struggling too. Maybe you should just say fuck it and drive across everything in your way until you reach the beach so you can park the car and then park your pussy on his face? (Obviously no, be a responsible driver!!)

He wasn't satisfied with your response, you didn't sound anywhere near as needy or bothered as he was — your eyes didn't even leave the road for a second to look at the man whose face was on your lap — so he decided to take matters in his own hands and began to finger you deeply, easily adding a second finger with how wet you were.

"Fuck, baby!" you moaned, grabbing his hair and arching your back, eyes still on the road.

He took the opportunity and, with the help of his unoccupied hand, pulled down your shorts mid-thigh, making you shiver at the cold you felt as your wet underwear was exposed to the air. He looked up and blushed when he saw you already looking at him with your needy eyes. You were looking at him! His lips moved down your stomach and lower until he reached your underwear-covered pussy, placing a big kiss on your clit. You arched your back again, the sensation was so much greater now that only a thin fabric was between you.

Moaning, you looked at the road and saw a sign that told you there was a parking nearby in 800 meters. Fucking finally! He began kitty licking you and at this point you were so sensitive and needy that you had to pull him up by his hair, much to his dismay as he whined and his eyes filled with tears. "Why?"

"Baby, I found parking."

"Oh! Fucking finally!" As if a switch was flipped, his frown turned into a smile, a tear escaping his eye. He leaned into your touch as you brushed the tear away from his cheek.

You slowed down and turned the car into the parking lot, which was just grass with faded sprayed parking lines, miraculously deserted. He started kitty licking you over your underwear again. You moaned, grabbing his hair, "Fuck, Beomie, can't you wait for a little until I've parked? You're really that needy?" "Yes."

You decided to park the furthest away, turned towards the dead beach so you could have a view of the sunset and ocean — and the yellow, orange, red and pinks of the sky reflected on Beomgyu's pretty face, dirt-colored eyes twinkling like stars. "Baby, fuck, slow down," you had to pull him off your pussy.

"I can't," he took this opportunity to fully pull off your shorts to discard them to the back. "You didn't give me any attention when I just wanted to love you."

You kissed his pout, "You will have all my attention now, Baby."

The pout turned into a smile. "Thank you, Mommy." He pulled your right leg up, positioning his face in your pussy, dropping your thigh on top of his neck. His tongue immediately went to work, kissing all over your pussy, underwear still on. He always liked eating you out with your underwear on first so he felt more rewarded when they were off and he could taste, smell and feel your pussy so much more.

But you were having none of that, pussy clenching around nothing, aching at this point. "Stop teasing me and eat me out properly," you pulled your underwear to the side, grabbing his hair to push him more into you. He was looking at you and you could see the smile in his eyes, content he had your eyes on him and your pussy on his tongue. You had been teased and turned on so much already that you knew it would only take a minute or two of his talented tongue to cum. He too could sense you were near, hearing your gasps and moans, feeling your back arching, looking up at your eyes. His hands were on your thigh and boob, touching you the way he knew you liked it. The way his hand moved up your thigh to grab your butt never failed to make you feel hot.

"Choke me with your thighs, please?"

"If my slut wishes it," you smiled at him, flexing your thighs around him a little, not sure how much he could handle yet. Hair matted on his forehead, tears filling his high eyes, hands grabbing your skin, moaning against your pussy, and the colours of the sky on him. You didn't know it yet, focused on the pretty view that was Beomgyu, but he was leaking so much pre-cum there was a stain on his pants from the sweet familiar taste of you, seeing you in pleasure along with the pineapple purple sky sunset behind you.

"Fuck, you're doing so good for me, Baby. Your mouth was made to eat my pussy, wasn't it?" He nodded, mouth still against your pussy, tears flowing by now. It was true. He eats it almost everyday, sometimes he'll lazily lap at your pussy under the sheets in the morning, sometimes in the shower if you'll let him (yes, he can do that), sometimes when you're watching a boring movie he will lay on his back on the sofa and ask you to sit on his face, sometimes he'll get on his knees as soon as you open the door to your home after a double date because he's jealous some other guy made you laugh a lot, sometimes when you're waiting for noodles to cook on the stove he'll give you puppy eyes so you'll let him eat you out on the countertop — fuck, sometimes when he's bored he'll randomly get on his knees in front of you and beg you to please let him have a taste. Safe to say he has learned every little trick to please you and make you cum in a few minutes just by eating your pussy. And he loves it.

"Mhm, you're such a good boy for me, my sweet little pussy hungry slut," you pouted at him condescendingly; he moaned at the mean praise, hips twitching up. You looked down at him, there was a huge wet stain on the front of his pants. "Awww, Baby, you're so wet just from my pussy. I should let you cum on it for being such a good slut, right?" His moans on your pussy were so desperate and sent sweet, sweet vibrations that tipped you over the edge, thighs shaking around his neck, "Fuck, I'm cumming, Baby." He slowed down, eating your cum, helping you calm down from the intense orgasm, not overstimulating you. But after a while it became too much, your pussy way too sensitive for his never ending kitty licking, so you opened your thighs and pushed his head away.

"You did so well for me, Beomie," smiling, you patted his head softly, seeing the sunset shine in his pretty eyes, your cum glistening all over his lower face, tears dried, lips pulled into a smile after he was finished licking them clean. You pulled him up from between your thighs to give him a kiss on his forehead after pushing some damp hair away, "You want to get your reward now, Baby?" He gulped, still, not answering your question. "Baby... Don't tell me you already came—" you pulled down his pants to have your suspicions confirmed; he did, in fact, cum untouched. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to cum without your permission, and I really wanted to hold back so I could cum on your pussy when you told me, but it felt so good to have your attention and taste you and-and— I couldn't control it. I'm so sorry," he cried, apologizing profusely.

You held him in your arms, fingers carding through his long, beautiful hair, "Beomie, it's okay, no need to say sorry. I'm very flattered actually. Besides your pretty mouth did so well for me that I can't be mad at you. You were such a good boy." He hummed against you, pecking your neck every now and then. After he calmed down, he pulled back to look at you; tears on his cheeks and half of the sun in his eyes. You dried his tears with your fingers and kissed him on his lips, calling him your good boy. The look in his eyes wasn't sad anymore. He gulped again before trying to give you his best puppy eyes, kissing the back of your hands. You knew he wanted something whenever he acted this clingy and cute, "Yes, Baby?"

"C-Can... Can I still cum on your pussy?"

You giggled, grabbing his cock, "You're hard again, this fast?" He hid his face with an arm, flustered, "Mhm. You kept calling me your good b-boy." "Awww my cute little slut. Getting hard from being called a good boy?" you giggled because although this was dirty, it was still somehow cute in a way how he got hard from your praise alone. He shook his head, face still hidden by his arm, "Your good boy." You smiled. "Mmm, Baby. You really are my good boy?" He nodded. You looked down at his dick, it was hard, pink and twitching, dirty with his previous cum. "Then show me your face, I don't want you hiding from me." His dick twitched and did as told. "Good boy." He shook his head, "I-I'm Mommy's good boy." He was always so cute and malleable whenever he came untouched and heard those sweet praises that tickled his soul. You kissed his shoulder as a reward. "Yes, mine. Now let me lay down so you can sit between my legs." "Oh yes." He did as told, hands behind his back without being told — he knew how you wanted him. You pulled him down to you momentarily to hold his cheeks and give him a quick kiss, both of you smiling into it. "I love you so much." "I love you more."

His pink dick was leaking pre-cum already. "My sweet boy won't cum without my permission again, right?" He whined, embarrassed, "I won't, Mommy, but please stop teasing." You giggled, he will cum any moment now you already know especially since he's so sensitive from his orgasm. Holding his dick confirmed your suspicions, Beomgyu moaning and dick twitching at your small touch. "Please, please, please," he muttered, tears already in his eyes, "Please, Mommy, I wanna cum on your pussy, please?" There was something about cumming on your pussy that drove him crazy, maybe it was because he would get an excuse to lick your pussy clean off him. "Not yet, Babyboy. I wanna play with you a bit first," you started moving your hand up and down on his cock, his loud moans following immediately after. He was struggling, biting his lower lip, pinching his arms behind his back, not looking at your naked pussy because he didn't want to cum without your permission again. "P-Please, Mommy. Ngh— I've been a good boy for you, please can I cum?" "Oh have you? Weren't you a bad boy the whole drive? And then you even came without Mommy's permission, right?"

He whined, tears running down his eyes again. "Please, Mommy, I'm so sorry I just wanted your attention. I-I always wanna please you and have your attention. Wan' be your personal toy." You smirked, going faster, "Yes, you are my little toy. So pretty and dirty for me." "Yes, yes, always. I— Fuck, I'm cumming, Mommy. Please, let me cum on your pussy, Mommy," he cried, looking at you with his slutty eyes. He knew how to get to you; how to look so sexy for you that you just wanted to reward him. "You can cum, my good b—" "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck— Thank you, Mommy." His eyes rolled back as white ropes of warm cum covered your pussy. "You did so well for me, waiting for my permission," you hugged him as he came down from his high, kissing his cheeks. "Really?" He pouted, fishing for more praises, which you knew and granted him, "Yes, really. My good boy." You kissed his pout, "Now clean up your mess." He smiled.

You and I, we fell in love

I ain't read the signs, ain't know what it was

But God gotta know he might have peaked when he made you

The cosmos' only mistake is what they named you (what that mean?)

They should call you sugar, you're so sweet

Even if

You left me out here stranded

My feelings wouldn't change a bit

My heart beats triple time when I see you

Somethin' I can't control

If I compared you, the sun is a stand-in (sun)

You got a smile that could light up a planet (smile) yeah (oh, oh)

And you look so good (yeah)

And you smell so good (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

And you taste so good (yeah)

And you're so, so good (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

You're the sweetest (yeah)

Yeah, you are, ha-ha

Sweet like, like motherfuckin' brown sugar sweet potatoes (are you ready?)

Or somethin'

Ha-ha

The plan was to stick my toe in and

Check the temperature, but

Next thing I know, I'm

I'm drownin'

— Tyler, the Creator

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