#Backyard Pharmacy

[nervouszonkcoloralmond]

Medicinal Garden Kit -  The Most Important Thing That's Probably Missing From Your Backyard

Inside your Medicinal Garden Kit, you’ll find 10 smaller packages with each type of seed. 2,409 high quality seeds packaged in US.  

Even if you’ve never planted anything before, you’ll have no trouble growing these 10 plants. You will find details on how to plant, grow, and harvest each one in the free Medicinal Guide you'll receive with your Medicinal Garden Kit.

To get a Medicinal Garden Kit click here

You cannot find these 10 seeds in one package anywhere else. Before I made it, I had been looking for something like this for a long, long time.

And I would have been willing to pay A LOT for it. Just think about how much money you spend at the pharmacy. The average American spends $1742 each year. I think your new backyard pharmacy will save you at least a few hundreds of that. That's what I call a good investment.

To get a Medicinal Garden Kit click here

#medicine plant #garden kit #medicine #natural pharmacy #backyard medicine #plants #natural medicine #health

[freeway3]

The Most Important Thing That's Probably Missing from Your Backyard: Medicinal Garden Kit

In a crisis, people will turn to plants once again for both food and medicine.

And there are some plants that will vanish faster than all others.

So, the only way to make sure you have them when you need them is to grow them in your own backyard. Get it Now

Comment Down Your E - Mail ID. We are giving 5 medicinal garden kit for free.

#medicine plant #garden kit #medicine #natural pharmacy #backyard medicine #plants #natural medicine #health

[healthpro786]

Exploring the Uses of Medicinal Plants: Nature's Pharmacy

Introduction to Medicinal Plants

Medicinal plants have been integral to human health and wellness for millennia, offering a treasure trove of natural remedies that continue to play a crucial role in both traditional and modern medicine. In this comprehensive exploration, we delve into the diverse uses of medicinal plants, from their historical significance to their potential future in research and innovation.

Definition and Historical Significance

Medicinal plants encompass a broad spectrum of botanical species that have been utilized for their therapeutic properties. This practice dates back to ancient civilizations, where healers and shamans discovered the healing potential of various plants, laying the foundation for herbal medicine.

Importance in Traditional and Modern Medicine

Throughout history, medicinal plants have been the cornerstone of traditional healing systems across cultures, from Ayurveda in India to Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) and Native American herbalism. In modern times, these plants remain vital, providing sources of active compounds for pharmaceutical drugs and serving as natural alternatives for health and wellness.

Common Medicinal Plants

Overview of Well-Known Plants (e.g., Aloe Vera, Ginseng, Turmeric)

Certain medicinal plants have gained widespread recognition for their health benefits. Aloe vera, known for its soothing properties, is used to treat burns and skin irritations. Ginseng is prized in traditional Asian medicine for its apoptogenic properties, promoting vitality and longevity. Turmeric, has potential anti-inflammatory and antioxidant effects due to its active compound curcumin.

Their Traditional and Current Uses

These plants have versatile applications. Aloe vera is used in skincare products, herbal remedies, and even beverages for its cooling and healing properties. Ginseng is incorporated into tonics and supplements to boost energy and enhance cognitive function. Turmeric finds its way into culinary dishes and dietary supplements, offering support for joint health and overall wellness.

Health Benefits of Medicinal Plants

Overview of Various Health Conditions Treated

Medicinal plants address a wide range of health conditions, spanning digestive issues, skin disorders, immune support, respiratory ailments, and more. Each plant contains unique bioactive compounds that target specific areas of health.

Examples: Digestive Issues, Skin Disorders, Immune Support

For digestive health, plants like peppermint and ginger aid in soothing upset stomachs and relieving nausea. Calendula and lavender are prized for their skin-healing properties, used in ointments and creams for eczema and wounds. Immune-boosting plants such as echinacea and elderberry are popular during cold and flu seasons.

You may try this kit for your better health through herbs.

Phytochemicals and Active Compounds

Explanation of Phytochemicals

Phytochemicals are bioactive compounds found in plants that contribute to their medicinal properties. These include polyphenols, flavonoids, alkaloids, and terpenes, each with specific health-promoting effects.

Importance of Active Compounds in Medicinal Plants

The efficacy of medicinal plants hinges on their active compounds. For instance, the polyphenols in green tea exhibit antioxidant properties, protecting cells from oxidative stress. Alkaloids like caffeine in coffee and tea contribute to their stimulating effects on the nervous system.

Antioxidant Properties

Role of Medicinal Plants in Fighting Oxidative Stress

Oxidative stress contributes to aging and disease by causing cellular damage. Medicinal plants rich in antioxidants, such as blueberries and green tea, help neutralize free radicals and reduce oxidative damage.

Examples of Plants with High Antioxidant Content

Berries like goji and acai are celebrated for their antioxidant-rich profiles, offering protection against chronic diseases like heart disease and cancer. Turmeric, with its potent curcuminoids, also exhibits strong antioxidant effects.

Anti-inflammatory Effects

How Medicinal Plants Reduce Inflammation

Inflammation underlies many chronic diseases, from arthritis to cardiovascular conditions. Medicinal plants like ginger, turmeric, and willow bark contain compounds that inhibit inflammatory pathways, offering natural relief without the side effects of conventional anti-inflammatory drugs.

Plant Examples (e.g., Ginger, Turmeric, Willow Bark)

Gingerols in ginger and curcumin in turmeric are known for their anti-inflammatory properties, making them popular choices for joint pain and muscle soreness. Willow bark contains salicin, a precursor to aspirin, which eases pain and reduces inflammation.

This kit may help you to maintain your health better through herbs.

Digestive Health

Medicinal Plants for Digestive Disorders

Plants like peppermint, chamomile, and fennel seeds are used to alleviate digestive discomfort, including bloating, indigestion, and irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). These herbs promote healthy digestion and soothe gastrointestinal distress.

Natural Remedies for Common GI Issues

Peppermint oil relaxes intestinal muscles, easing spasms and discomfort. Chamomile tea reduces inflammation in the gut lining, while fennel seeds aid in digestion and reduce gas.

Immune System Support

Plants That Boost Immunity

Echinacea, garlic, and astragalus are renowned for their immune-enhancing properties. These plants stimulate the immune response and help the body fend off infections.

Apoptogenic Plants and Their Role

Apoptogenic herbs like ashwagandha and holy basil help the body adapt to stress, which indirectly supports immune function by reducing the negative impact of stress hormones on immunity.

Skin Care and Healing

Use of Plants in Skincare Products

The beauty industry incorporates medicinal plants into skincare formulations for their nourishing and healing effects. Aloe vera gel, shea butter, and rosehip oil are popular ingredients in natural skincare products.

Healing Properties of Medicinal Plants for Skin Conditions

Calendula soothes inflamed skin and promotes wound healing. Tea tree oil is used for its antibacterial properties in treating acne. Rosemary extract acts as a natural preservative and antioxidant in cosmetic products.

Pain Relief

Natural Pain-Relieving Properties of Plants

Plants like cannabis, willow bark, and capsaicin (from chili peppers) are effective pain relievers. They work through various mechanisms to alleviate pain without the adverse effects of opioids.

Comparison with Pharmaceutical Options

Medicinal plants offer a gentler alternative to pharmaceutical painkillers, with fewer side effects and a lower chance of addiction. For chronic pain management, herbal remedies provide sustainable relief.

Stress and Anxiety Management

Plants for Calming Effects

Lavender, passionflower, and valerian root are used to reduce stress and anxiety. These plants have sedative properties that promote relaxation and improve sleep quality.

Role of Herbal Teas and Aromatherapy

Herbal teas infused with chamomile or lemon balm have calming effects on the nervous system. Essential oils like lavender and bergamot used in aromatherapy alleviate stress and uplift mood.

Cardiovascular Health

Plants for Heart Health

Hawthorn, garlic, and flaxseed are beneficial for cardiovascular health. They support healthy blood pressure, cholesterol levels, and overall heart function.

Impact on Blood Pressure and Cholesterol Levels

Garlic contains allicin, which helps lower blood pressure and cholesterol. Hawthorn berries improve blood flow to the heart and strengthen its contractions.

Respiratory Health

Medicinal Plants for Respiratory Issues

Eucalyptus, peppermint, and thyme are valued for their respiratory benefits. They relieve congestion, soothe coughs, and support lung health.

Examples: Eucalyptus, Peppermint, Thyme

Eucalyptol in eucalyptus oil acts as a natural decongestant, while menthol in peppermint oil opens airways and relieves sinus pressure. Thyme contains thymol, an expectorant that loosens phlegm.

Cancer Prevention and Support

Role of Medicinal Plants in Cancer Prevention

Certain plants like turmeric, green tea, and berries possess anti-cancer properties. They inhibit tumor growth and protect cells from oxidative damage.

Complementary Use with Conventional Treatments

Medicinal plants complement conventional cancer treatments, helping to manage side effects like nausea and fatigue. They may also enhance treatment efficacy and improve overall quality of life.

Women’s Health

Plants for Menstrual Issues and Menopause Symptoms

Black cohosh, dong quai, and chaste berry are used to alleviate menstrual cramps and menopausal symptoms. These herbs regulate hormonal balance and support reproductive health.

This guide may also help you to keep yourself fit through nature.

Safety and Efficacy Considerations

While herbal remedies can be effective, it's essential to consult with a healthcare provider, especially during pregnancy or when managing chronic conditions. Proper dosage and quality control are crucial for safety.

Memory and Cognitive Function

Plants That Enhance Brain Health

Ginkgo biloba, bacopa, and gotu kola are known for their cognitive-enhancing effects. They improve memory, concentration, and overall brain function.

Impact on Memory and Concentration

Ginkgo biloba increases blood flow to the brain, enhancing cognitive performance. Bacopa monnieri supports neurotransmitter function, improving memory retention and mental clarity.

Metabolic Health

Plants That Support Metabolism

Cinnamon, bitter melon, and fenugreek aid in metabolic health. They regulate blood sugar levels, promote insulin sensitivity, and support weight management.

Effects on Weight Management

Green tea catechins and capsaicin from chili peppers boost metabolism and promote fat burning. These plants are valuable additions to a healthy diet and exercise routine.

Sustainability and Ethical Harvesting

Importance of Responsible Sourcing

As demand for medicinal plants grows, sustainable harvesting practices are vital to preserve biodiversity and protect natural habitats. Ethical sourcing ensures the long-term viability of medicinal plant resources.

Promoting Biodiversity and Conservation

Cultivation of medicinal plants through organic farming and wildcrafting supports ecosystem health and maintains genetic diversity. Conservation efforts safeguard endangered species and promote sustainable use.

Cultural and Ritual Uses

Traditional Practices Involving Medicinal Plants

Medicinal plants hold cultural significance in rituals and ceremonies worldwide. Indigenous cultures have preserved ancient healing traditions centered around plant-based medicine.

Significance in Various Cultures

For example, Ayahuasca, a psychoactive plant brew, is used by Amazonian tribes for spiritual healing and enlightenment. Native American tribes employ sage and cedar for purification rituals.

Future of Medicinal Plant Research

Trends in Herbal Medicine

Advancements in technology and scientific research are uncovering new applications for medicinal plants. Phytopharmaceuticals and herbal supplements continue to gain popularity in mainstream healthcare.

Potential Discoveries and Innovations

Research on plant genomics, bioavailability of phytochemicals, and synergistic effects of herbal combinations offer promising avenues for novel therapies. The future holds exciting prospects for harnessing the full potential of medicinal plants.

Conclusion

The multifaceted uses of medicinal plants span ancient traditions to cutting-edge research, demonstrating their enduring relevance in promoting health and well-being. As we navigate an era of holistic healthcare, incorporating these natural remedies into our lifestyles fosters a harmonious relationship with nature and unlocks the profound healing potential of botanical medicine.

Here you may try this kit for your health care through herbs.

Wish you the best of your health!

DISCLAIMER:

Some of the links in this article are affiliate links, which means I may earn a commission if you purchase through those links.

#health tips #Nature's Pharmacy #uses of medicinal plants #myherbal #herbal garden #Chicory Coffee #Quick Backyard Remedy #Medicinal Garden #Herbal Medicine #herbalism #health and wellness

[beautyhealthsworld]

Make green your Backyard

Cultivate Wellness at Home: A Look at the Medicinal Garden Kit

Ever wished you could have a natural pharmacy right outside your door? The Medicinal Garden Kit promises just that, empowering you to grow a variety of medicinal plants at home. But is it a vibrant path to natural healing, or a weed in the garden of well-being?

Blooming Benefits:

The kit boasts a curated selection of seeds, often including calming chamomile, immune-boosting echinacea, and soothing lavender. With proper care, you can harvest these herbs for teas, tinctures, or even culinary uses. Proponents highlight the advantages of:

Natural remedies: Having a steady supply of herbs for common ailments can feel empowering and reduce reliance on over-the-counter medications.

Cost-effective: Compared to buying pre-made herbal products, growing your own can be a budget-friendly option in the long run.

Freshness and quality control: You know exactly how your plants are grown, ensuring you get the most potent and beneficial herbs.

Sustainability: Growing your own herbs reduces your environmental footprint.

Mind the Patch: Important Considerations

While the concept is enticing, there are factors to consider before diving in:

Not a cure-all: Medicinal plants can be a great supplement, but they shouldn't replace professional medical advice.

Knowledge is power: Research each plant's proper harvesting and usage to avoid potential side effects or interactions with medications.

Growing commitment: These plants require sunlight, water, and proper care to thrive. Be prepared to invest time and effort.

for more details plz visit

#Medicinal Herbs #Grow Your Own Medicine #Natural Home Remedies #Herbal Healing Kit #Sustainable Wellness #DIY Backyard Pharmacy #Organic Medicinal Plants #Natural Health & Wellness #Affiliate Program (for promoting) #Medicinal Gardening Kit

[emphoria-essentials]

Unlock the power of healing power of Nature

#health and wellness #healthy eating #herbs #herbal #Health Medicine Medicinal Healing Gardening Backyard wellness Healing Pharmacy Cleanse DIY Natural Body #vegan #alkaline eating

[muhammad-riyan]

Medicinal Garden Kit -  The Most Important Thing That's Probably Missing From Your Backyard

Inside your Medicinal Garden Kit, you’ll find 10 smaller packages with each type of seed. 2,409 high quality seeds packaged in US.  

Even if you’ve never planted anything before, you’ll have no trouble growing these 10 plants. You will find details on how to plant, grow, and harvest each one in the free Medicinal Guide you'll receive with your Medicinal Garden Kit.

To get a Medicinal Garden Kit click here

You cannot find these 10 seeds in one package anywhere else. Before I made it, I had been looking for something like this for a long, long time.

#garden kit #medicine #natural pharmacy #backyard medicine #plants #natural medicine #health #medicinal garden kit #medicinal herb garden kit #medicinal herb garden seed kits #medicinal plants in kitchen garde #medicinal garden seed kit #indoor medicinal herb garden kit

[stevnuel]

Natural Backyard Plant Pharmacy Cheap and suitable medicine

[ Medicinal Garden Kit Review ]

Natural Backyard Plant Pharmacy Cheap and suitable medicine

[ Medicinal Garden Kit Review ]

#backyard pharmacy book #natural medicine pharmacist #a natural farms #by nature plus #plant farmacy #pharmacy garden #pharmacy natural products #j & b herb & plant farm inc #online natural pharmacy #r plant nursery #natural way pharmacy #1 gallon plants

[inkskinned]

100,000 dollars is not a lot of money.

it is also a lot more money than i will ever have. my student loans make up half of that - they're coming back, i'm told, like we all bounced back recently. the other day while paying for gas to go to work, i overdrew my account without knowing it.

i sat in the car and looked at the charge and tried to do the math. where the fuck is the money even going? i don't live extravagantly. i live in a hole in the ground, in an apartment the size of a sneeze; covered in ants. yes, i wanted to live close to a population center. maybe that's my fault. i've downloaded the apps and i've spoken to the experts and i've cut back on excess. i can't help the pharmacy bills or the medical debt.

i have a good, well-paying job. when i googled it to see if i was getting a fair salary, i found out i'd be making "upper middle class" money. which doesn't make sense - is "upper middle class" now just "able to afford a one-bedroom without a roommate". when i was younger, upper-middle meant a nice big house and a backyard and vacations and not flinching about eating at a resturant.

i was talking to my friend who is a realtor. he said 100,000 dollars is extremely cheap for housing. he's not wrong. 100,000 dollars would change my life. 100,000 dollars also won't really buy you anything. it could get you out of debt, potentially, if you were lucky and had a certain amount of scholarships to tack onto your degree. you could pay off the car and then have enough left over for "spending" money. how fucking amazing. one vacation, maybe two if you're thrifty. and then - like magic - the money would evaporate into nothing. people would sigh and tell you see, you should have put it into savings! like "upper middle class" people can't afford to value "actually living" over squirrelling wealth. you should spend your life only in scarcity. like that is what made the rich people all their real "actually a lot of money".

100,000 dollars would literally set me free. it also would just set me back to "earning normally" instead of paying down debt into infinity. god, do you know how many of us just want that? that our first thought is we could stop scrambling and just be free of debt if we won the lottery? that we don't even necessarily need to stop working - we just wouldn't have to worry about failing or falling?

and. at the same time. 100,000 dollars is next to fucking nothing.

#writeblr #me paying my taxes this year: #haha good to know im literally doing more for my community out of my tiny apartment #than most corporations will do in their entire scope! :) these motherfuckers will NEVER pay taxes!!! #bc they lobby others to be sure we CHOKE :) !!! #i hope this is clear like. this isn't someone being like ''haha if i got 100k it wouldn't be a big deal'' #it's more like. the gap between corporations and the ppl WORKING in those corporations #has become HORRIFIC. 100k to the company i work for is like. pocket change to them. #and it is LIFE CHANGING for me. #they could cut me a check for 100k tomorrow and not even budge their margin of error

[talaok]

Just this once

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!babysitter!reader

Summary: Everyone hates you in town, everyone except for Mr. Miller, who was kind enough to hire you as his daughter's babysitter.

Warnings: mentally and verbally abusive father, angst, unreciprocated love, no happy ending. Smut| oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie

Everyone hated you in this town.

Kids at school, moms, dads, even grandparents sometimes.

People crossed the street when they saw you, they waited until you turned around to whisper and scorn to the person beside them.

Everywhere you went, followed dirty looks and rude remarks.

In the hallways at school, at the drug store, pharmacy, park, you name it.

Everywhere, everyone seemed to despise old Carl's daughter just for being born, or maybe, maybe also because of the rumors that spread about her.

Like the one where you dealt drugs, which was not not the truth... but you never dealt meth.

Or the one where you'd fucked half the guys in town,

And least but not last, the one where you were the reason you poor pops had turned to alcohol.

Except they didn't know anything. they didn't know that your "poor pops" had begun his diet of a bottle of whiskey a day long before you were born, that he drove your mom mad to the point where she had fled without so much as a goodbye, leaving behind a few clothes and a stupid scrap of paper where she had written a fucking lie.

I love you

If she had actually loved you, she wouldn't have left.

And they didn't know that all the anger your father had, had turned to you, they didn't know how scary it was, to be afraid of your own father, to be alone at the age of thirteen, to have to take care of yourself, to have to grow up faster than you should.

They all hated you, and you didn't care, you swore you didn't care, because they didn't know, they didn't know shit.

But Mr. Miller was different.

He was the only person, together with his daughter, who had ever shown you kindness, the real kind.

He had seen you sobbing as you ran from your house after your dad had another one of his "episodes".

And god, you were so confused when he stopped you, when he put a hand on your shoulder and asked if everything was alright.

And you didn't tell him then, you didn't tell him everything that was going on and that your dad was an asshole and that your life was hell, you couldn't, there was always this everlasting shame fizzing underneath your skin whenever you felt the need to share. But he hadn't cared, he hadn't cared that you had told him nothing, he hadn't cared that all you did was say sorry and I need to go, because with just a glance it felt like he had seen right through you.

So then he'd told you where he lived, and even if that time he couldn't convince you to come in, it was you who showed up at his doorsteps two nights after, asking for a place to sleep which he offered without so much as a question.

And it was only a week later when you told him everything.

He had sat and listened as you cried and cried, he had stroked your hair and given you tissues, until finally, he offered you a job.

Babysitting his kid.

And you were scared at first, you weren't really equipped for the job, but the moment you met Sarah you realized just how easy it was gonna be.

taking care of her was fun, and it gave you an excuse to be away from your own home, sometimes even at night when the mere thought of seeing your father made you want to puke.

And Mr. Miller was always nice, he made breakfast, overpaid you like crazy, and he listened, he was always there to listen.

"dad, what are you talking about?" 

Mr. Miller's backyard was always perfectly mowed, and the treehouse he'd built his daughter stood high on the oak in the middle of it.

"I said-" even if you couldn't see him, you swore he was taking another gulp straight from the bottle " Where the fuck are you?" 

"I'm working dad, I told you" you said, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"You working?" he laughed "That's funny" he said, as his laugh turned into a disgusting cough "Tell me where you really are." his voice was slurry, but the anger in it still made you shiver "You at one of your boyfriends' houses?"

"No Dad, I'm at Mr. Miller's house" you sighed, it was sad really, how used you were to this by now.

"Mr. Miller huh?" a hiccup sounded through the phone "You fucking him too? You started going for older guys? Is that it? I bet that's it you little slut" he hissed "Your mother would be so disappointed... to see her only daughter grow up to be such a fucking whore"

There's a difference, when it's strangers calling you names, and when it's your own father.

You'd always wished his words didn't affect you, but somehow, they always found a way to hurt.

No matter how tough you made yourself to be, when it was him, you felt like a kid all over again.

"fuck you" you muttered, as tears pricked your eyes 

"Is that how you talk to your father you little bitch? Just wait till you come home, I'll see what you'll have to say then-"

And there were so many things you wanted to tell him, to scream at him, to drill into his non-existing brain, but all you did was press the red button and hung up.

And it took about a second before the tears started flowing like rivers.

You ran back inside the house, forgetting all about closing the glass door as you curled into a ball on the couch, trying to cry as silently as you could, so that Sarah wouldn't wake up.

You hated him. You hated everything, you just wanted to run away and start a new life somewhere else, Canada, Austria, even the fucking north pole sounded better than this.

You were just so tired, so exhausted. Every time you talked to your father all the energy you had, or thought you had left, got drained from your body, and for hours, you remained lifeless,

The only exception was when-

The front door opened, and those purposely quiet footsteps that you would have recognized anywhere, followed soon after.

Him, the only exception was when he was there to comfort you.

You sat up, quickly wiping your tears to try and look somewhat presentable.

"hey," he whispered, entering the living room "Sarah's asleep?"

"mh-mh, yes" you nodded

"I'm sorry I came home this late, it's just that the guys wanted to go out after work and I always tell them no..." he trailed off, as he sat next to you and got rid of his overused boots.

"I-It's not a problem, Mr. Miller"

He shook his head, smiling in that charming way of his as he sat his shoes next to the coffee table and turned to look at you.

"How many times have I told you that you can just call me J-"

But his words died in his throat the moment he caught a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes, (that he'd come to know too well) and of that look on your face.

"What happened?"

They were such simple words, but they hit like tnt too close to a dam, breaking the barrier and causing all the water to run out.

His arms were around you the moment the first tear fell.

"shh" he cooed, stroking your back as you sobbed into his chest "It's alright, everythin's alright, sweetheart"

You wrapped your arms around his broad torso, feeling all his muscles underneath the fabric as you drowned in his scent. He always smelt so manly and so... good.

"I-I'm sorry it's just" A sob climbed up your throat "He-he called and I-I" You never finished the sentence as other tears started flowing from your eyes.

"I'm sorry honey" he cooed, placing his cheek on top of your head"it's ok" he murmured "It's all gonna be fine, I promise"

"w-when?" you cried, finally looking up at him "I'm so tired of this Mr. Miller..."

"soon" he promised "You're a smart girl, you'll get far in life sweetheart, I just know it"

you breathed heavily into his chest for a few minutes, listening to his heart beat as you calmed your own.

"t-thank you" you sniffled

"of course, darlin'"

And as you glanced at him, at his soft beard, at his kind eyes, your brain short-circuited and your mouth got a mind of its own, and before you realized it, your lips were on his.

And god he felt so good

"y/n-" he spoke as you tried to deepen the kiss "What are you doing?"

"I just-" you stuttered, not able to tear your glaze off his soft lips "please" you murmured, not knowing what else to say as you leaned up to kiss him again,

"sweetheart this ain't right I-"

"please Mr. Miller" you begged, placing your hand on his shoulder and pecs, as you left a quick kiss on his lips again "please just this once"

"y/n..." he tried to speak but was interrupted by your mouth finding his neck.

"please" you repeated for the thousandth time, your breath fanning over his neck "just this one time" 

"darlin'... I don't know if this is a good idea"

"it is" you quickly corrected him, your kisses lowering down his body, until all you could do was shuffle off the couch to get between his parted legs "it's a really good idea"

You saw him swallow thickly at the sight before him

"no sweetheart, you don't gotta do that"

"I want to" you reassured him, hurriedly undoing his belt and zipper until his black boxers were all that obstructed your view.

You palmed his manhood through the fabric, feeling it harden underneath your palm, before you gently took it out, looking up at him for approval as you wrapped one hand around it and let your lips follow suit.

A loud shuddering breath fled his mouth as you fitted more and more of him into your mouth, and you took it as an incentive to get lower, fully choking on his cock.

"f-fuck" he groaned

You started bobbing your head up and down, your eyes never leaving the sight of him breathing heavily before you.

You were doing good, but you wanted to do amazing for Mr. Miller, so you gingerly took his cock out of your mouth to start a slow trail of kisses and kitty lips down the whole length of him, until you reached his balls, and without a second thought, reserved them of the same treatment, before starting to suck on those too.

"fuck. me." he breathed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes.

You leaned away for a moment, still pumping him with your hand "Does it feel good?" you asked

"fuck-yeah sweetheart" he gulped, looking down at you "it feels real fucking good- you're-fuck-you're amazing"

The biggest smile ever spread on your face at that, and with a renewed vigor, you got back to sucking his balls even better.

series of profanities continued coming out of his mouth as you got back to his dick, letting your tongue run on his tip for a few moments before getting back to filling your mouth with it.

You watched his hands curl by his sides, and without thinking, you let one of your own travel to his, softly placing your palm over it in a makeshift hold, which wasn't really a hold because he didn't turn his hand to do it properly.

But it didn't matter now, he was enjoying this, something you were doing for him, something you had dreamed of doing to him times and times again, and that's all you cared about.

You bobbed your head for a few more moments before you leaned away and quickly got up to get rid of your pants.

He watched you, too fucked out and torn with guilt and confusion to understand anything anymore, step out of your panties, place your hands on his shoulders, and straddle him.

you reached down for his dick, and without too much of a premise, sank down on it.

"oh god" you moaned, stopping a moment to take a deep breath at the feeling, as a low groan rumbled in his chest.

"you feel so good" you murmured, kissing him passionately as you started riding him.

His hands gripped your waist as a way for him to try and ground himself back on this earth because fuck but, you felt fucking good too

"touch my tits please" you said, ghosting his mouth.

"Sweetheart..."

"Please, Mr. Miller" you pouted, rising and sinking from his cock even faster

"Joel- please call me Joel" 

"Please Joel, touch my tits"

And who was he to say no to you when you asked him like that?

One of his big strong hands seeped underneath your top and found your boobs, stroking and grabbing at them heavenly.

You couldn't help but gasp at the mix of pleasures, your head falling to the crook of his neck.

The sound bouncing off the walls of the living room was straight out dirty and the breeze coming from the open glass door on your left softly floated through the room, at times hitting your raw skin.

"oh my god" you whimpered, muffled by Joel's skin "o-oh my"

He was filling every inch of you, stretching you so fucking good it made you want to scream if it wasn't for Sarah sleeping just upstairs.

You lost yourself in him, in his soft grunts, in his most raw scent, in the way his beard rutted against your cheek, and slowly, slowly you felt a bubble form in your belly, getting more and more ready to explode.

"F-fuck" you whined, "I-I think I'm-I'm coming"

His only response was to tighten his hold on you, before you fastened your pace, desperately chasing your high.

your breathing got even heavier as you remerged from his neck to look at him in the eyes and meet his lips with yours once again.

Kissing his was like traveling to another universe, he was just so... perfect

 "Joel" you whispered, losing yourself in his hazel eyes, as the pleasure got stronger and stronger until you felt like you could barely breathe "Joel I love you"

You watched his eyes widen slightly but before he could speak your orgasm took over your body and you had to hide your head in the crook of his neck again to try not to moan too loud.

"it's ok" he murmured, placing a hand on the back of your head soothingly "It's all gonna be ok sweetheart"

You rode out your high, never stopping your movements, and by the time you had come down from it, Joel was on the verge of it.

"shit-I'm coming" he groaned "Where do you want it?"

 "inside" you whispered without missing a beat

"I c-can't honey-"

"please Joel" you whimpered, starting to get overstimulated "Please fill me up, Joel"

And with that simple sentence, he was done for.

"fuck-shit. shitshitshitshit" That's all he managed to spit out, as ropes of his come filled you up to the brim, just like you wanted.

You took a moment to compose yourself, inhaling his scent one more time, before you slowly got off of him.

And as you did, the moment it was all done, a strange sensation overtook you.

you'd thought that this was all you wanted, that this was gonna make you feel better, and yet... yet you couldn't help but feel like a piece of you was missing, you couldn't help but feel emptier than you were to begin with.

As you watched him hurry to put his boxers back on, you couldn't help but think that, once again, you had managed to fuck everything up.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller blurb #joel miller angst #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller x babysitter!reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller hbo

[tipsyourdailyhealth]

Watch The Full Video From Here: http://bit.ly/3BcJkhi

I am a mother, an herbalist, a survival skills instructor, and a biologist. I graduated with a degree in Biology from McGill University and further developed my herbal skills in the desert of Kalahari. I lived there for years with one of the oldest cultures on Earth, the San Bushmen. Many San still live off what the land provides in terms of food and medicine, and many of them live well to a ripe old age without ever taking pills or seeing the inside of a hospital.

When I was just 29 years old, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. MS is an incurable autoimmune condition that makes your own immune system attack the brain and spinal cord. I was in constant agony, most of the times in a wheelchair.

The Western treatment prescribed by my doctors didn’t provide much relief.

For the last 20 years I’ve been managing my MS using the natural remedies that I personally grow in my backyard. I went from being pushed in a wheelchair to being fully alive. So much that in 2015 I survived for 57 days straight in the wild on the History Channel’s TV show Alone. 

أنتقل إلى صيدلية الفناء الخلفي الصغيرة الخاصة بي عندما أتألم ، أو أصاب بنزلة برد ، أو أعاني من الحمى ، وما إلى ذلك. لم أتقدم في صيدلية منذ وقت طويل. لدي كل ما أحتاجه هنا في الفناء الخلفي لي ولعائلتي بأكملها.

شاهد الفيديو كاملاً من هنا: http://bit.ly/3BcJkhi

#medicine plant #garden kit #medicine #natural pharmacy #backyard medicine #plants #natural medicine #health #botany #botanic garden #botanist #botanical #secret society #society #members #لبديل

[teddiesworldd]

could you do a pt2 of the zombie outbreak with ghost, maybe the zombie outbreak ends and they get used to being a normal couple? idk

after the world ends (p2)

this is part two of my ghost apocalypse au, you can read part one here!

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on part 1 and for this request which inspired part 2! i hope it's what you imagined <3 (1k words)

pairing: simon ghost riley x reader

tags/warnings: apocalypse au, fluffy, some descriptions similar to ptsd, starting a family, the ending they deserved ;')

day 154 of the apocalypse, 5 months after the first outbreak, 2 months after the second.

time creeped on slowly as the days melted into weeks, and then months. you’d become quite accustomed to life behind the fence, picking up various skills to make yourself useful in camp. the others had taught you everything you needed to know. you could now fish, hunt, cook - survival was something that came so naturally now, it was like your life before never happened. like it had always been this way. on your trips out of camp with soap, you had noticed shoots of grass and leaves sprouted up through the concrete over time and covered your city in an overwhelming green haze. 

other than the odd trip outside the safety of the fence, your days were calm and laid back. you often spent them laying out by the river with simon, watching the water flow past in the warm spring air. more recently though, you’d looked after the german shepherd you had found with soap in the city, which you had lovingly named riley after your love. there was always plenty to do - things needed fixing up, whether that be the equipment or each other. 

in the evenings, you no longer watched soap and ghost talking from your tent - you sat alongside them at the campfire, simon’s large hand holding yours. you shared stories of your lives before the outbreak, dreaming of what you’d do when the world turned the right way around again - if that would ever happen. and when your conversations died down, simon led you to his bed and you spent the night with your head on his chest, listening to his faint heartbeat to drown out the sounds of the infected who got too close to the fence.

it wasn’t all smooth sailing; some of the others in camp had fallen sick and the nearest pharmacy was completely stripped by other groups, leaving nothing to treat your own wounded campmates. illness spread like wildfire here and all you could do was nurse their wounds and cook hot meals to lift their spirits and provide warmth. a few lost their lives to disease or to the zombies, but most fought on, struggling through the days.

you’ll never forget the moment when you heard about the cure. 

head resting on simon’s shoulder, swaying gently to the faint crackle of the radio. his hands gently gripping to your waist, holding you close like he never wanted to let you go. it was a routine that you both had for a few weeks now, after your first night together in the tent. rocking gently to the music as the sun glowed shades of pink and orange in the late evening. "my girl, i'll marry you when this is over." he'd tell you every time you held each other like this. simon had never felt so enamoured with someone in his whole life. he couldn't wait for the day you shared his last name. it was what kept him going through all this - the thought of living a normal life with you on the other side. soap sat nearby, cleaning up whatever he’d found during the day, cheesing over the action figures he found in the house he raided, watching as you and simon fell utterly in love with each other.

the music cut off and the announcer said that a cure had been developed to treat the infected. and suddenly you remembered everything that you had left behind 5 months ago.

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

four years later, you sat out on the porch of your home with a cold drink, watching simon play with your daughter in the backyard. he proposed to you as soon as you heard the radio broadcast and you married shortly after normality returned, falling pregnant and buying a house together. it never really got any easier - cuts turned into scars and memories of your days in camp turned sour, plaguing your dreams. often you’d wake up in a cold sweat, fear running through you like you were still there. but simon never failed to bring you back to earth again, stroking your hair and shushing you to sleep again. soap visited often, riley always jumping up at him madly as he stumbled through the front door. your daughter had grown accustomed to calling him “uncle johnny”, which he loved and it made him well up the first time he heard her say it.

nothing would really be the same again - you had lost most of your friends and family, and the world never quite got back to the way it was before.

but in a way, that was okay. because so much good came from it. 

“mommy, look!” you daughter giggled madly from the bottom of the garden. you snapped out of your thoughts, eyes landing on your 4-year-old daughter who was halfway up the tree at the bottom of the lawn.

“i- i did try to tell ‘er not to,” simon sighed, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “but you know what she’s like... little adventurer.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. it definitely wasn’t the first time she’d gone up there - she climbed up it like she’d done it a thousand times before.

“reminds me of someone i know.” simon said, looking down at you in your chair, nothing but love in his eyes. he kissed you sweetly, reminding you of the first time your lips touched that night in your tent. 

“i’ll start making dinner, yeah?” he finished, hand gently squeezing your arm before heading into the kitchen. you really did get so lucky the day you crossed paths in the woodland.

“can someone help me down?!” your daughter shouted, riley barking up at her playfully as she clinged tightly to the branches.

“yeah, honey, i’m coming” you replied, placing down your drink and heading down the garden.

˚✧. thank you for reading!

˚✧.please reblog to support me <3

˚✧. dividers by @ saradika-graphics and @ si-eunnis

✎ masterlist

💌 send a request

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #johnny soap mactavish #teddiesworldd

[lovelybrooke]

What’s up with MC? (Platonic yandere Hazbin Hotel immortal au)

So I've really wanted to write some stuff about reader and their life. I hope this helps you guys understand them a little bit more. This doesn't have much to do with Hazbin Hotel, but hopefully you still enjoy.

Trigger Warning for: Very bad/neglectful parenting, disassociation, talks of regretting a child, bullying, please tell me if I need to include anything else.

masterlist

---

You were born a very small and loud baby. You cried and cried, even after your mother took you into her arms and laid you down on her chest. Even when your father took you for a few seconds so he could hand you to the nurse. And even when she rolled you down the hallways of the hospital to get your test done. It wasn't until you cried yourself asleep that it was finally quiet.

Life wasn't always so bad, back when your dad was around and your mom wasn't a drunk. Your father worked at a family pharmacy, had good hours and was home before dinner. Your mother stayed at home taking care of you. She would make you lunch, play games with you, and would even rent movies from the library to watch with you. In your childlike eyes, life was perfect.

Things weren't perfect though. In reality, your mother got pregnant young, forcing her to marry your father when she was 20. In her young, 20 year old mind, she thought she loved your father and he thought he loved her. So getting married seemed like the next step when she realized she was pregnant. And she loved you, she loved your smooth skin, she loved giving you baths, and dressing you up. But she didn't like the crying, and the sick days, and the clinginess. She hated having to be the one to deal with all those things while your father was at work. And when he was at home, he wasn't a help either. He was distant, they never talked or loved each other like they did when they were teens.

Your mother started drinking when you were three. It started off with wine at dinner, then at lunch and dinner, then at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Eventually, she started picking you up from Pre K drunk, the other moms could smell it on her. One mom told an admin who told the principal who told your mom that another parent would need to pick you up. You could faintly remember the fight your mom had in the parking lot and then with your father at the dining room table. Whenever your mom got like that, you imagined that you weren't yourself, instead you were a character in one of the books your mom used to read to you. It helped.

As your mom got worse, your father slowly stopped showing up. He said he had more work, his boss was getting older so he had to pick up the slack. When he was home, he was distant and cold. He never wanted to play with you, he treated you less like his child and more like an associate. As you got older you knew it was because he didn't want this life, he didn't like his 9 to 5, and he didn't like coming home to a drunk wife and a child he never desired to have. And when he stopped showing up, a part of you, even though you barely knew him, was relieved. It meant less fights, less loud yelling, and less time spent inside your own head.

You were a quiet kid all throughout school. You never were good at making friends, but it wasn't something that bothered you. With your dad gone, money got tight, and when you were seven, your mom started working at your local supermarket. It wasn't great, but it was better than having no money. That's also when she started smoking. You stopping kissing her goodnight because she smelt like cigarets. You felt bad, but she didn't seem to care.

When you were eight, you were trying to climb a tree in your backyard when you fell, breaking both of your legs in the process. You laid there until the bright blue sky became black, eventually falling asleep and having the strangest dream. Your mother didn't find you until the next morning, your cries being drown out by the beers and t.v. She took you the hospital where you were apparently fine.

When you were ten your father called the house. It was a Saturday meaning your mom would sleep in, and when you picked up the phone, you heard a voice you didn't know. It was old, manly, and angry. He was shouting something about money and credit cards, and when you hung up, he called again, and again, and again, until eventually your mother woke up. They argued for hours and when they were finished, your mother told you not to answer the phone again, so you didn't.

When you got to middle school you experienced bullying for the first time. A girl in your 3rd period made fun of your clothes, which your mother found at the thrift store. You never realized that you wore the same clothes every day until then, and so when you got home you learned how to use the washing machine. From that day on you did the laundry in your house, and when your mother suggest you make dinner, you did that too. It eventually became a routine, you'd go to school, your mom went to work, you'd get home and clean the house, do laundry, and make dinner, all while you mom watched t.v. It never bothered you, because if you didn't do it, who would.

The bullying didn't stop, even into high school. You were the poor kid with a drunk mom and an absentee father, you were the prime subject for bullying. It was never anything big, the occasional teasing and mocking, especially on days when your mother would pick you up. It was embarrassing, to have her yell at you from her old, beat up truck. Or when she'd smoke in the school parking lot. Or when she rant to you about work and get mad when you interjected. You got better as you got older ignoring it, ignore her, ignoring the way she made you feel.

When kids would talk about your dad, you'd make up a different person in your head since you never remembered who he was. You imagined him as a prince, handsome and knightly. You imagined dancing with him, him kissing you on the forehead before you went to sleep, and him telling you he loved you. You guessed that was the great thing about having a deadbeat dad, he can just kinda be whoever you wanted, even if it wasn't real.

When you were 15, you were working on a project after school when your mom forgot to pick you up. You were forced to walk home from school, alone, in the cold, when a car swerved your way and you fell unconscious. You were having the craziest dream until you woke up, in your bed, your mom asleep in the living room, game shows playing loudly on the t.v.

You stopped relying on your mother for anything after that. You stopped expecting her to help you, stopped expecting her to pick you up from school, or to even pay your bills. You got a job and started contributing what you could so you could keep the lights on. You knew it wasn't right, that this isn't how a parent should act. But she was still your mom, she still loved you, right? If not, then what was all this for.

---

A/n: I think I made readers life too tragic, sorry. Parts of this were based on my own experiences growing up but nothing this bad, so feel free to tell you what you think.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #platonic yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel #platonic yandere helluva boss #yandere helluva boss #helluva boss x reader

[universitypenguin]

Chapter XXI

Summary: Lloyd is disturbed when Princess has another close call. He struggles with his feelings before having an epiphany about their relationship.

Word Count: 6,839

Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ readers only. Smut, erotica level explicitness, use of nipple clamps, allusions of impact play (Lloyd threatens to spank Princess), semi-rough sex. Criminal elements including stalking, domestic violence, and murder. Major health scare requiring an emergency room visit.

Chapter XXII

You stepped out of the police station and into blinding sunlight. The moment the sun hit your eyes it felt like a thousand needles being stabbed in your retinas. You dug in your purse for a pair of sunglasses. The gradient style lenses weren’t dark enough to provide sufficient shade, so you shielded them with your hand as you scanned the parking lot. Refracted light from Jake’s glossy white Toyota 4Runner hurt your eyes, even though it was idling in the shade, under the porte-cochère.

You climbed in, hoping the vehicle’s dark windows would block the sun. Instead, the reflection off the hood was so bright that your eyes watered. With a hiss, you flipped the visor down.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Rough day?”

“Not really, we had a great interview with Aliyah this morning, but I started getting a headache after lunch. My eyes are killing me.”

“Do you want to stop by the pharmacy?”

“I’d kill for some ibuprofen.”

In CVS, the pain relief aisle was completely stocked with everything - except ibuprofen.

Jake peered over your shoulder. “Should we try another store?”

“No. I’ll just grab something else.”

You picked up a box of Excedrin that proclaimed itself ‘extra-strength’ and flipped it over to study the label.

“What are you looking for?” Jake asked.

“I don’t know. My mother hates this stuff, she always takes ibuprofen.”

On the walk back to the car you swallowed two tablets and found that you were grateful for Jake’s presence. Since the incident in his backyard Lloyd had decided it was too risky for you to be alone anywhere that wasn’t secure. Outside of his cabin, the only places that met his security standards were the police station in Harmony and his office at Bishop & Howard. Lloyd had taken to dropping you off at the station in the mornings. In the afternoons one of the guys would drive you back to the office and deliver you directly to Lloyd’s office.

You’d agreed to the arrangement without hesitation because it was the logical, prudent course of action. Even so, you couldn’t help resenting that your freedom had been so harshly curtailed. The stalker had made you dependent on others in a way you’d never experienced before and hoped to never experience again. The rotation of bodyguards driving you back and forth between the police station and the office made you feel like a child caught in the middle of a complicated custody dispute.

Jake glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Maybe we should stop by the emergency room,” he said. “You had a concussion recently and-”

“No. I’m fine. This is just a tension headache.”

You adjusted your sunglasses and tried to blink away the spots that danced in front of your eyes. Jake was still trying to persuade you to go to the ER when your throat started to ache, and then the ache became an itch. The itch spread slowly, like a persistent whisper of discomfort until you coughed and wheezed.

Your lips started tingling.

“Jake? I think… maybe we should go to the hospital.”

- - -

Six minutes later, you crossed the threshold of the Forest View Hospital emergency room. You were leaning heavily on Jake and choking on air instead of inhaling it. Your airway had constricted to a terrifyingly narrow passage that seemed to contract even further with each passing second. One look at you and the triage nurse was out of her chair. She guided you to a wheelchair while quizzing Jake about peanuts and shellfish… there was more, but your ears were ringing and you didn’t catch the rest.

A second later, a man in a white coat shoved a needle in your thigh. The injection stung, but the relief was so intense you could’ve kissed him. As the medicine coursed through your veins the feeling of suffocation gradually eased. The man in the white coat took a stethoscope and listened to your breathing.

“Not too bad,” he announced. “But we’ll need to keep you in observation for a while. I administered epinephrine to counter your allergic reaction. Can you tell me about any food or drugs you’ve consumed in the past few hours?”

You were still catching your breath, so Jake stepped forward. “She took an Excedrin about twenty minutes ago.”

Navy blue embroidery on the breast pocket of his white coat proclaimed the man as: Kennedy Knox, M.D., MSc; under his name were the words ‘Family Medicine.’ His nose was slightly crooked and he’d chosen a daring color for his footwear - the neon purple running shoes clashed with his burgundy scrubs.

Jake’s phone rang and he stepped around the curtain to answer it.

Dr. Knox noticed you were shivering and brought you a warm blanket from a glass cabinet before sitting down to take your medical history. Your voice was scratchy, but you managed to answer.

He finished typing and clicked back through his note, scanning the text. “It seems like you might have a sensitivity to aspirin. You said your mother avoids it?”

“She only uses ibuprofen and tylenol,” you confirmed.

“I’m almost certain anaphylaxis was triggered by aspirin, but until you can be tested by an allergist, avoid NSAIDs altogether. I’ll write you a referral.”

He typed another few lines into your chart.

“I see that you suffered a concussion last week?” Dr. Knox said.

“Yeah, I hit my head after getting out of the pool.”

“The Excedrin was for a headache… have you had problems with them since the injury?”

“Just today. The light started bothering me after lunch. By the time I got off work, it was a full-blown tension headache.”

Dr. Knox nodded. “Post-concussive headaches can feel a lot like tension headaches.”

He asked a few more questions and did a palpitation of your neck before picking up his prescription pad.

“Here, you can fill this at any pharmacy in the area…”

Sloppy handwriting on the note read: Pick up some very, very dark sunglasses, ASAP!

You giggled.

Knox winked.

“Doctor’s orders. They’re a must-have accessory for any fashionable concussion survivor. Think of it like wearing a scarf in Alaska.”

“I can get behind a prescription like this,” you said.

He chuckled. “Take care, and remember - no more Excedrin, no aspirin, and always read medications labels from now on.”

After signing the discharge papers you made your way down the hall. Your knees were still shaky but you could breathe. You continued until the sterile hospital atmosphere gave way to the softer, earth-toned decor of the waiting room.

Jake was standing beside Lloyd.

When your gaze clashed with Lloyd’s you almost stopped short. He looked furious, but then you noticed the wrinkle in his chin, a feature that only appeared when he was concerned. His pale eyes were like flint. You crossed to them and he opened his arms, enveloping you in a tight embrace. The weight of his hand smoothing down your back lulled you into relaxation and you wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your head on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Turns out I might be allergic to Aspirin.”

Lloyd sighed and squeezed your waist. His next words were directed to Jake.

“Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You were so exhausted that you didn’t bother listening to the rest of their conversation. It only lasted a minute or so. The whole time, Lloyd’s arms were snug around your waist and the warmth of his body seeped into yours, helping ease the residual shakiness from the epinephrine. Soon, Jake’s footsteps faded away, but Lloyd’s hold on you still didn’t relax. His hand kept stroking up and down your back. You yawned.

“Let’s get you home,” Lloyd murmured.

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

He was anxious. It was an unusual condition for Lloyd, so the emotion struck him like a foreign disease, a pathogen that his immune system hadn’t been exposed to enough to mount an effective defense against. His skin prickled with hyper-awareness, his shoulder muscles were rigid and tension had gnawed a hole in the pit of his stomach.

You were asleep. He’d loaned you his jacket and you’d nestled into the makeshift pillow and nodded off just a few minutes into the drive. Lloyd snuck a glance at you, his lips compressing into a scowl. This was the second time in the space of ten days that he’d nearly lost you. His fingers clenched on the steering wheel. Wasn’t having a stalker enough? Did you need to have a life-threatening undiagnosed allergy, too?

When he pulled up to the cabin the sun was setting. You didn’t stir when he unbuckled you, so he rounded the vehicle and lifted you into his arms. Navigating the security system keypad and undoing the multiple locks on the front door with you in his arms was challenging, but he managed. By some miracle, your breathing was still deep and even when he laid you on the bed. He removed your shoes, covered you with a throw blanket and settled into the armchair by the window.

Anxiety continued to simmer in his blood. Lloyd did the breathing exercises Dr. Blair had taught him and stared out the window. He wished Nguyen would show his face. There was only one thing that would ease his mind, and it wasn’t breathing exercises.

Lloyd allowed his thoughts to turn toward violent imaginations. A normal person would’ve been horrified by the what ran through his head, but to him cruelty was the height of banality. It was something he’d been born into, a force that shaped his childhood, and then patterned his future. Violent ideas circulated in his mind without sparking the slightest flicker of emotional distress. Accountants had more passion for cash flow strategy than Lloyd did for his plans to end Shun Nguyen’s life.

It wasn’t long before his thoughts turned to more pressing issues.

He had to tell you that Nguyen was your stalker. It was his responsibility. Telling you was necessary and keeping the truth from you was wrong - he understood that very clearly. Lloyd’s teeth ground as he anticipated the impending conversation and wondered why it made him feel so awful. When had he become such a coward? As friends your communication had been seamless, but now that he was your lover, things had shifted.

You weren’t expressing yourself as freely. When you’d just been friends, you’d expressed your thoughts without hesitation, but over the past couple months, that had faded. Lloyd frowned. Why? What had prompted the breakdown in communication?

A soft groan from the bed interrupted his ponderings. You sighed, stretching, then squinted into the darkness.

“Lloyd? What time is it?”

“Just after seven-thirty.”

He crossed to the bed and sat down beside you, smoothing a hand over your hair.

“Did you sleep well?”

You adjusted the pillow. “Mmhmm.”

The words to begin the necessary conversation were right on the tip of his tongue, but then your arms curled around his neck. Lloyd was drawn into your arms and at the press of your lips, all his carefully organized thoughts scattered. His hands framed your face, thumbs sliding under your jaw to tilt your chin up. The kiss started out light, a brushing of lips, and steadily increased in pressure. When he pulled away, your eyes were dilated and you were both breathing raggedly.

“I’ve missed doing that,” you murmured, touching your swollen lips.

Lloyd groaned and kissed you deeply, enjoying your enthusiastic response. He gripped the back of your neck and held you still for a long, tender kiss, sliding his tongue against yours, then flicking and teasing, until he was rewarded by a delicate whimper of need. You gripped his shoulders and he sighed, contentment banishing the anxiety that had been riding him for the past few hours.

You mumbled something against his lips that he didn’t quite catch, but the demanding tone was clear enough. He slid his hands down from your face and gripped your waist, rubbing and squeezing at your hips in a gentle massage before moving to cradle your breasts. The distinct texture of lace was palpable through your thin blouse. He could tell it was an unlined bra by the way your puckered nipple stabbed into his palm.

You shivered and arched against his hand as you tugged him closer. Lloyd swept his thumbs over your nipples and was rewarded with a breathy moan and a delicious tremor. He groaned and allowed you to pull him down to the bed and rolled so that he was on top, straddling your hips.

His mouth never left yours. The kisses were hungry and charged with desperate need. When you began clawing at the buttons on his shirt, he undid them. Your hand sank into his chest hair, fingers twining into the sparse dusting with a purr of delight. Meanwhile, he found the fastening of your skirt, unclipped it and peeled down the zipper to access the hem of your blouse and yank it over your head.

When he saw the lacy purple bra with the front closure, he growled. You reached for the clasp but he batted your hand away.

“No.”

Your protest was silenced with a kiss and when you tried for the clasp again, he caught your wrists and raised them above your head. You whined in protest when he pinned you down, but the complaint was cut off when his tongue shoved into your mouth. He teased you with a series of thrusts and parries that elicited a soft chorus of whimpers and cries for him to enjoy before he shifted to a one handed grip on your wrists and slid his fingers under the lacy bra cups and stroked your taunt nipples.

“Oooohhh…”

Lloyd smirked. “Sensitive, Princess?”

He could feel your heartbeat hammering against your ribs. You moaned and arched when he scissored his fingers to pinch your nipple with his index and middle finger, squeezing until you gasped. Lloyd crushed his lips to yours as you undulated against him. He kissed you long and hard until you turned your head, breaking the kiss.

“Please, Lloyd, please…”

“You like it fast, don’t you, baby?”

You whined, struggling against his restraining grip. “Please…”

Lloyd chuckled. “If I let you go, you’ll start trying to undress me.”

Your pupils were blown wide and your lips were swollen from his rough kisses. Lloyd brushed his mouth lightly over yours. His smirk widened when you shuddered.

“Fuck me,” you whispered, breathless.

“Princess…” the hunger in your voice broke his self-control.

He released your wrists and unbuckled his belt. You squirmed underneath him, wiggling out of your skirt. By the time he’d gotten rid of his pants you were rolling down your thigh high stockings.

Lloyd hissed. “No, leave them on. Take off your panties unless you want me to rip them off.”

You obeyed and the second your panties were off, Lloyd moved between your legs, pressing himself against you, separated only by the thin barrier of his boxers. He felt your wetness seep through the silk and groaned.

“More, Lloyd. I need…”

He unfastened your bra and pushed it open, tweaking a pert nipple and squeezing the other breast. Your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering as he bent to suckle at your tit. When you thrashed under him, he used his weight to hold you down as he tended to your breast. When you screamed in frustration he nipped your skin and ground his erection into your core. He could feel the scorching heat and his dick twitched, anticipating how good you’d feel wrapped around him.

“I need you inside me,” you pleaded.

“Yeah? How bad, Princess? Does it ache? Are you throbbing for me?”

You tossed your head back, making a noise that was part scream, part wail, and gyrated against him, trying to find relief.

“Someone’s naughty tonight, aren’t they? You know I’m the one who sets the pace in the bedroom, Princess. We need to work on your patience.”

You snarled, a startlingly realistic sound. Lloyd laughed and nuzzled your breasts, kissing each nipple, satisfying himself with a final suckle on each of the puckered little buds. They were still wet from his saliva but he continued to take his time and draw out your torment, enjoying the way you writhed and begged for more in disjointed, nearly unintelligible sentences.

“Fucking hell, baby. Your breasts are sensitive, aren’t they? Your pussy is gushing, you’re getting my nice silk boxers all sticky.”

You moaned, the sound faint, but raw. He recognized the pitch and knew you were getting close.

“I bet you could come just from this,” Lloyd mused, tracing the delicate tip of your breast with his tongue.

“Lloyd! Fuck, damn it…” you squirmed and fought his restraining grip.

He countered your struggles by shifting his weight to put more pressure on your hips, immobilizing you completely.

“You’re in a naughty mood tonight, Princess. I bet that aching pussy’s to blame. Ten minutes of me working on your nipples and you’re acting like an entitled brat. Let’s see what state you’re in after twenty…”

“I want you inside of me, please, please…!”

His cock thickened at your desperate cry. “You want my dick, baby?”

“Fuck me, Lloyd. I need you so bad.”

He moved his hand down to your center and stroked the delicate skin of your inner thighs, making you shiver.

“Hmmm… your thighs aren’t trembling yet. I love it when they do that. What if I gave you my fingers, Princess?”

Lloyd released your wrists and eased back, this time using both hands to caress your thighs. You keened when he ghosted his thumbs over the outer lips of your pussy and slipped them inside to spread you open, exposing your sex to his gaze.

“Let’s try that before I give you my dick, yeah? A nice round of fingering to get you warmed up?”

“I’m… warmed… up… damn it!” you were panting as he teased your clit.

He didn’t touch it directly, but took advantage of knowing the underside of your clit was your most sensitive area and stroked the vulnerable spot.

“I can see that, Princess. Your clit’s nice and puffy from grinding on my boxers, getting ‘em all messy with your pussy juice.”

He slid down to lay flat on the mattress and lowered his head to your core. For a moment, he just breathed on your clit and watched you tremble in excitement. Lloyd licked his lips, imagining the sharp flavor of you, tart and tangy on his tongue. You were sobbing, asking him to fuck you, to use his fingers, to give you his cock. It was music to his ears.

There was nothing hotter than the breathless cries of a woman desperate for pleasure. He closed his eyes and sealed his lips around your clit, listening to the sounds you made, allowing them to direct him. You were gasping, offering strained whimpers, choked moans that dissolved into senseless babble, which told him you were really, really close. When he heard the urgent litany of cries, he released your clit. You screamed and twisted as your hips chased the pleasure he’d taken away. Lloyd pinned you down with both hands, forcing you to be still.

“I thought you wanted dick, Princess? Do you? Or do you want to come on my tongue?”

Your response was incoherent. Taking pity on you, he slid a finger in your pussy. When the powerful muscles clenched around the digit, his balls tightened.

“Fuck, that’s hot. Literally - your pussy’s burning up, sweetheart. It’s throbbing already and trying to suck me in deep. Ah… good girl. That’s it. Spread your legs.”

He inserted a second finger and watched as your face creased with pleasure. You were so wet that he had no qualms about adding a third finger. The soft, spongy walls stretched to accommodate him and you keened.

“Open your eyes, Princess. Look at how good you’re taking my fingers. Your pussy’s so soft for me, fucking welcoming, isn’t she? Watch.”

Lloyd adjusted the angle, reaching past your g-spot, and probing for the deep area that would make your toes curl. The effect was instant - your breath caught, air hissed out of your lungs, and your thighs trembled. His cock was leaking in his boxers and his balls were aching, but the sight, the sounds, they were too good for him to heed the demands of his body.

He eased his fingers lower and teased your g-spot. When you were shivering, right on the brink of release, he shoved the digits deep, returning to the spot that affected you so intensely, mixing up the pleasure points so that you couldn’t get off. He was amazed at how receptive you were to the deep penetration.

Your expression was one of utter bliss, with your lips parted on a needy whine, your eyelids half-closed, and your forehead creased in rapture. When he retreated to stroke your g-spot some more your legs jerked, trying to close and protect the vulnerable area.

“Ah, ah… Princess. Naughty. Bad girl, you keep those knees apart or I’ll spank you.”

“S-s-sorry,” you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks.

He rubbed your inner thigh, loving the way your muscles quivered under his fingers. It echoed the frantic clenching of your pussy. His thumb teased your clit and you shrieked, throwing your head back and bracing your arms behind you as your back arched off the bed. Lloyd pressed harder, rubbing your clit in firm circles. As he expected, your thighs seized, trying to push him away as the pleasure became overwhelming. He pressed your knee down and forced your legs to remain open.

You screamed, bucking against his hand. He was relentless. Your arms gave way and you crumpled to the bed, falling flat on your back.

“What’s wrong baby? Can’t handle my fingers? Do you want me to stop?”

“No! No, no, please, please, Lloyd!”

He kissed you fiercely, then eased into a slower tempo, gentling the kiss. You whimpered and clawed at his shoulders in a silent request for more. When he broke away, your eyes were filled with tears and wet tracks marred your cheeks. He kissed them and murmured.

“Poor baby. Can’t get off from me sucking your nipples, couldn’t come when I suckled your puffy little clit, and now you’re running away from my fingers. I don’t think you really want to come…”

“Please, I need you inside of me. Fuck me, damn it!”

He groaned, cock twitching, and rubbed your hip to soothe you.

“Are you gonna keep your legs open, Princess? Or will I have to take you over my knee?”

“Lloyd, don’t tease me, I can’t take anymore. I need you now. Right now!”

You broke down in tears and he drew you to his chest, kissing you as you sobbed.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay, Princess. I won’t tease you anymore.” He squeezed the fleshy part of your inner thigh. “Turn around, get on your hands and knees, and put your ass in the air.”

You scrambled to obey, going on all fours and positioning yourself like he’d requested - almost.

“I told you to put your ass in the air,” Lloyd said.

“It is!”

He realized you hadn’t understood the request. Moving behind you, he cupped your breasts and pinched your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger. You pushed your hips back into his, whining. Lloyd tugged on your nipples, pulling them. You gasped and arched, lowering your chest to ease the sting. He used your nipples to guide your chest to the bed.

“That’s it,” he praised. “Put your ass up, honey. Just like that. Stretch your arms out. Reach toward the headboard.”

When you moved, your chest came off the bed. Lloyd pressed his palm between your shoulder blades and growled, “Princess…”

“What?!”

Your ass lowered and he jerked it back into position.

“Chest down, ass up,” he growled. “You stay just like this, or you’ll have a sore ass and raw nipples tomorrow morning.”

To emphasize the point, he smacked your ass lightly. You raised your hips and lowered your chest into the correct form. Lloyd traced the curve of your spine and admired the deep arch of your back.

“Now, how hard was that? Not too bad, huh? It’s easy to be a good girl. All you need to do is hold this position, sweetheart. I’ll do all the work.”

He dipped his fingers in your sex, circling your g-spot, and then sank the digits as far as he could reach. Your back arched into an even lower position at the sensation and he knew you were ready.

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

Lloyd’s threat of giving you a sore ass and raw nipples echoed in your mind. You knew exactly what he meant by the latter because the other night you’d opened his nightstand drawer to borrow some lip balm and found the toys.

A bullet vibrator and a thick, curved stainless steel rod that you’d had to examine before realizing it was a dildo, were inside. In a small wooden box behind them, you’d found an anal plug and a fancy pair of nipple clamps. You’d slammed the drawer shut and forgotten all about borrowing his lip balm. Though you’d tried to put the matter out of your head, the nipple clamps had ignited your curiosity. You’d been wondering what they’d feel like for the past twenty-four hours.

Lloyd rubbed your lower back as he lined up your bodies. The broad head of his cock breached your opening, easily parting the slick, delicate tissues. His thrusts were slow as he invaded you inch by inch, making sure you could feel every ridge and vein. Even though you were soaked, the stretch was intense. Every part of your body was pulsating with need until the lust was a force of its own. When Lloyd eased back, you pressed your elbows into the mattress and rocked against him. His hands tightened on your waist, hips forcing you to stop.

“Lloyd,” you whimpered.

“I told you, Princess. Chest down, ass up, stay. Your chest isn’t down, is it?”

You groaned, feeling the heavy crest of his erection drag against your insides as he pulled out until just the tip was left.

“It’s not hard, is it, Princess?”

“Lloyd… don’t stop!”

You lowered your chest and extended your arms, assuming the correct position.

He leaned forward, and for a moment you thought he was going to use his body weight to pin you down, but he grabbed the handle of the nightstand drawer.

“You’re being a bad girl again. I warned you, Princess.”

You moaned at the sight of the silver nipple clamps, connected by a thin chain. Lloyd hauled you up and drew your back flush against his chest. He nuzzled your neck and rubbed the cool metal over your nipple, letting you feel it.

“What do you think, Princess? Do you want to try something new?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?” Lloyd murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

“I want to try it.”

He squeezed your breast and guided the clamp over the nipple, opening the claw and teasing you. Goosebumps rose on your arms.

“Ready, Princess?”

You nodded and the clamp snapped shut. Pain raced straight to your core and you both groaned at the clench of your pussy.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“It hurts!”

“Good.”

When he lifted your other breast, rolling your the puckered nipple to prepare it for its punishment, you assumed you knew what was coming. However, instead of a sharp sting, this clamp hurt worse. You lurched back, slamming into Lloyd’s chest. Immediately, you reached for the clamp, but he caught your wrist.

“No, don’t. Breathe, Princess. Deep breaths, that’s it.”

Tears swam in your eyes as he coached you. His hands stroked your body and the distraction of the calloused palms rubbing your waist and hips eased the pain. Suddenly, your breasts felt heavy and plump, despite the uncomfortable bite of the clamps.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Lloyd grunted.

You became aware of the flood between your legs and realized juices had dripped down your inner thighs. He thrust hard, seating himself deep in a single advance. This time instead of pushing your chest down, he grasped your wrists and used the leverage to force you to arch your back. His next thrust made you shudder.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmured.

His thrusts made the clamps rattle, their weight tugging on your breasts and triggering a wave of pain. You cried out.

“Easy, let me make it better.”

Lloyd reached between your legs, his fingers dipping into your folds and stroking your clit.

Instantly, the pain from your nipples faded, replaced by a fierce wave of pleasure. You clenched around him and the rough sound of male desire it elicited from Lloyd had you quivering, on edge. He rocked in and out, keeping his fingers moving on your clit to distract you from the searing pain of the clamps.

“Hold on, Princess.”

That was your only warning before he impaled himself deep, the head of his cock pressing at the entrance to your womb. You shuddered, gasping when his thrusts grew rougher and harder. Fire sizzled across your skin, the sensations racing up your spine until your entire body rippled. Lloyd’s grip on your wrists tightened as you twisted in a moment of ecstasy.

He growled. “Don’t round your back, Princess. I wanna go deep… come on, be a good girl and arch for me.”

You moaned and tried to meet his demand but your body was reacting, writhing and squirming of its own accord as he rooted himself so deep that you saw stars.

“Aaahhh! Lloyd!”

He jerked your wrists, forcing you to lower your shoulders, and jostling the clamps. You squealed and Lloyd growled in response. Your reaction seemed to spur him into action. Suddenly his deep, powerful thrusts were making the headboard rattle against the wall. It was so deep. In seconds, you were shaking on the edge of orgasm and the sensation of the nipple clamps had dulled to a pleasureable tightness.

Lloyd drew back, the width of his cock stroking over all your tender spots, before pausing at your entrance, leaving just the tip inside. You gasped as he slammed into you hard, burying himself all the way in a brutal thrust that made you scream. He shifted his hands higher, moving his grip from your wrists to just above your elbows. Held in this fashion, you were prevented from retreating or twisting away when the head of his cock ground into your g-spot.

Involuntary undulations rippled through your muscles, each invasion causing your channel to squeeze as it tried to entrap him. Each time they failed, your pussy reacted to the next thrust as a fresh chance to lock him in a vice grip. The sizzling pain from the nipple clamps acted like a conductor, carrying the sensations from your core and spreading them through your whole body. Violent waves of pleasure encompassed every muscle and nerve you possessed.

Lloyd grasped the chain that connected the nipple clamps and tugged. You screamed. He grunted, panting as he increased the pace, pounding you even harder. His teeth scraped against your shoulder and the flash of pain made you quiver. You could feel the orgasm approaching and knew it would be more powerful than anything you’d experienced before. A ripple of fear passed through your dazed mind, questioning if you could survive something so intense or if you’d disintegrate.

“That’s it, Princess. Good girl, squeezing my cock, taking me deep… ah, fuck!”

He swirled his fingers on your clit, thrusting faster, making the clamps rattle. Each impalement made you cry, until unintelligible words were all you could manage. He was rooted so deep, your nipples hurt so bad, yet at the same time, they felt so good… his fingers were tormenting your clit… you couldn’t catch your breath, it was too much…

The orgasm stole your breath. When you collapsed, Lloyd’s grip was the only thing that kept you from crushing the nipple clamps into the mattress. Your legs trembled, jerking and twisting as your muscles spasmed and pleasure turned you into its puppet. You were only vaguely aware of Lloyd’s release. You wouldn’t have noticed, except that the rush of wetness against your cervix triggered another, smaller orgasm. The second climax soothed the brutality of the first, easing your muscles from shaking into quivering. Slowly, your pussy relaxed its vise grip and your sex began pulsating with soft flutters that were as sweet as they were intense.

Lloyd rolled onto his side, taking you with him. One brawny arm curled around your waist as he wrapped himself around you like a human blanket. You whimpered, caught in the vestiges of climax still wracking your body. Lloyd held you tight and murmured soothing words that your frazzled mind couldn’t comprehend.

You felt disjoined from reality. The strongest sensation was the throbbing, molten heat, that pulsed between your legs - everything else seemed dulled and faint in comparison. You would have been content to lay boneless in Lloyd’s arms forever, but after a few moments he separated your bodies. The sticky trickle of liquid down your thigh made you stir, but physical exhaustion was stronger than discomfort. Lloyd nuzzled your shoulder.

He said something and even though you heard him, your brain just… refused to process. Then he was pulling you into his chest and arranging your legs across his thighs. His arm supported your back and your head fell limply against his neck.

“Princess… Come on, Princess. Open your eyes,” Lloyd purred, stroking your cheek.

“Tired...”

“I bet you are, but I have to take off those clamps, sweetheart.”

Your lashes fluttered. The dull throb of the nipple clamps wasn’t so unpleasant any more.

“They’re okay.”

“It’s better if I take them off now.”

“M’kay…”

You were so lost in the afterglow that you didn’t care what he did.

“This’ll hurt,” Lloyd warned, his fingers brushing the side of your breast.

Perhaps if you hadn’t been so relaxed, you would’ve been more concerned. When he opened the right clamp, you weren’t prepared. You shrieked, almost lurching out of his lap.

“Ow, ow, ow! Fuck! Fucking hell, damn it, holy shit…!”

Lloyd caught you when you tried to crawl away. He wrapped both arms around your waist and hauled you against his chest. You let him hold you, but hissed when he palmed your stinging nipple, rubbing it briskly.

“I know, it hurts. Let me rub it out.”

The sensation was intense, a blend of pleasure and pain that confused you.

“Ready for the other one?” he asked.

“No!”

“It has to come off, and it’ll hurt worse later.”

You grit your teeth.

“Fine, do it!”

His lips brushed your temple. “Deep breath… three, two, one-”

“Aaaaahh!”

Tears spilled down your cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Lloyd murmured, already stroking it, rubbing circulation back into the flesh.

He kissed your shoulder. “You did so good, Princess. Did you like the clamps? Hate them?”

“Yes.”

Lloyd chuckled.

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

Considering your limited sexual history, Lloyd planned to spend more time than he normally would have on aftercare. What he didn’t anticipate was that you’d snuggled into his chest and fall asleep two minutes after he’d rubbed the blood flow back into your nipples. Figuring that it was probably the thought that counted, and cuddling was still a form of aftercare, he stayed in bed and held you while you slept. It was just past eight o’clock and he wasn’t tired, but he lay there and let the sound of your steady breath relax him. He let his mind drift.

His thoughts returned to Shun Nguyen.

Lloyd’s arms tightened around you, wondering why he hadn’t seen it himself. Nguyen was walking a red flag. Why had he let you speak with him alone for the second interview? The man had direct knowledge of his girlfriend’s murder and highly credible domestic violence accusations. Lloyd had put you in a room with him anyways; now you were being stalked. You snuffled in your sleep, mumbling. Lloyd stroked the length of your spine until you settled against him. He needed to wake you up and feed you, but he didn’t have the heart to do it yet. You’d been through a lot today.

He should be more careful with you. In the dark, quiet room the weight of his mistakes, of his errors in judgment, felt closer than ever. The communication problems you were having… those were probably his fault, too. He needed to mend the rift in your friendship and earn your trust again. Granted, he couldn’t tell you that he had every intention of killing Shun Ngueyn when the opportunity presented itself. When he did, he wasn’t going to be stupid about it. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize himself or cause you distress. Thinking about your distress made him uncomfortable.

Why had he gone for the nipple clamps tonight? They were hardly a beginner friendly choice. The bullet vibrator would’ve been more appropriate, but he’d been curious to see what effect a little pain would have on your pleasure. Choosing the clamps wasn’t his only error in judgment tonight. Even if the intense orgasm that unraveled you in the end was something rare and beautiful, the position he’d put you in had been too dominating.

Lloyd tried to focus on the positives, reminding himself that you’d trusted him. You had consented to the clamps and didn’t that prove how deep your trust ran?

But he hadn’t let you bail out when the second clamp hurt. He’d pushed your limits without asking for permission. Lloyd closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. He didn’t want to take advantage of you. If he did, it would be by accident, but he needed to be careful. In the future, he had to slow down and make sure he only used toys that suited your experience level.

Guilt seared his conscience. The emotion, like anxiety, wasn’t one he usually suffered from. Feeling guilty was one of his triggers for rage, so he tried to explore the emotion and search out its roots.

You’d trusted him tonight and now he was feeling unworthy of it. The lack of communication when you’d chosen not to tell him about your stalker… that must have come from a lack of trust. You didn’t think he could remain calm and help you instead of flying off the handle. Your behavior suggested that your trust in him was more physical than emotional.

He frowned, astonished by the revelation. You were his closest friend. He trusted you with his feelings… No, that wasn’t true.

He hadn’t told you about his estrangement from Joe. He hadn’t told you about helping Elliot get into rehab or seeing his ex-girlfriend when he was in Idaho. He hadn’t told you that he had sisters or that his mother had abandoned him and left him that horrible box of cassette tapes. He hadn’t told you that his father used to lock him under the tack room floorboards in a sunken coffin. You knew a lot about him - more than anyone else did - but not enough. The root of his guilt was suddenly clear. You weren’t communicating with him because you didn’t trust him. What had seemed like a failure to communicate ran much deeper.

He hadn’t done anything to earn the level of trust he was expecting from you.

His chest tightened, compressing with each beat of his heart. He wanted to address the problem but at the same time he was afraid of making a mistake and unraveling the delicate threads of your relationship. What if those delicate threads were already fraying, and he was just now noticing it? Something had to be done. Retreating wasn’t an option. Your friendship would never be enough for him again, not after having you as his lover. At the same time, he couldn’t bear the thought of tethering you to him and stifling your freedom.

Was there a balance that accommodated both of your needs?

Claiming you as his own would be selfish. Lloyd stared at the ceiling, trying to work out what he wanted. Monogamy, a shared home, your complete, unhesitating trust - those were the desires surged to the forefront of his mind. In a word, he wanted commitment.

Commitment.

The word churned his stomach. Lloyd couldn’t help the revulsion that welled up at the idea. He couldn’t stop the revulsion anymore than he could prevent himself from yearning for it. He repeated the phrase in his mind, as if exposure could resolve his phobia.

Commitment.

Lloyd shut his eyes. He did the breathing exercises again, but this time the anxiety refused to loose its grip.

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

Masterlist

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Next - Chapter XXII

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The Princess - Tag List:

@denisemarieangelina @before-we-get-started @buckysteveloki-me @patzammit @badassbaker @meetmeatyourworst @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @thiskindahotkindamusic @jesgisborne @charmingprincess @amiets2 @seitmai @elle14-blog1 @chaoticsteverogers @fangirl-and-doctor-help @jesevans @openup-yourmind @kandierteveilchen @adoreyouusugar @awkwardgiraffe726 @pono-pura-vida @mysweetlittledesire @liecastillo @marantha @literaturelove @babyevansblog @lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa @thegirlnextdoorssister @ladygrey03 @cynic-spirit @rosedpetal @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bambamwolf87 @yiiiikesmish @calwitch @peachiestevie @texmexdarling @crayongirl-linz @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @andydrysdalerogers @here4thefanfics @rogersbarber @spikeluv84 @dear-fifi

#lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd x princess #the princess and the lawyer #the princess & the lawyer #series: the princess and the lawyer #series: the princess & the lawyer #lloyd hansen au #chris evans characters fic #chris evans characters #chris evans characters fanfic #chris evans character au #smut #18+ content #18+ minors dni

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 11 -> CH 12

"Are you knocking over a pharmacy?”

“Medication alternatives.”

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @thatsthewrongwallcraig @icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver @ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999

Jack made sure to get up at a decent hour so he could shower and give Ace an impromptu bath. Nothing special, just a quick rinse and fluff. Jack wouldn't exactly say he was trying to earn some brownie points but he hoped that if he returned Ace in top condition, maybe Y/n would bring him by more often to stay.

Jack was sitting on a lawn chair in the backyard tossing the ball to Ace when Y/n came around the corner, sunglasses pushed up to hold her hair back.

"Well look at you two, looking especially fluffy." Y/n handed Jack his coffee and took the seat across from him.

"I gave him a quick rinse this morning." Jack nodded as Ace jumped up on the seat giving Y/n kisses.

"Ah yes, thank you for washing the stench of your lust from my dog. I'm sure my mom would appreciate that." Y/n tossed him the burrito and he kissed the aluminum it was wrapped in.

"You are my new favorite neighbor. Have I told you that?" Jack complimented.

"Considering you don't talk to literally any other neighbors, I will accept that begrudgingly." Y/n reached in the bag and pulled out her own breakfast burrito so they both could eat.

"Oh I also brought you this." Y/n reached into her bag and pulled out a slip of paper, handing it over. Jack eyeballed it unsure of what he was reading.

"Are you knocking over a pharmacy?" Jack joked and she shook her head with a mouth full of food.

"Medication alternatives. I don't know what your exact ailments are but if they're psychological, these can absolutely help with negative side effects." Jack examined the list and noticed she had put little notes next to certain medications.

"Wow this is...extensive. You must think I'm really fucked up." Jack tried to play it off as a joke but she shrugged.

"The whole world is mentally ill, Jack. The only truly sane people are the ones smart enough to realize they need the help. There's nothing wrong with that." She took another bite of her burrito.

"I've been fucked up since I was a kid so medication has always been a part of my life. As you get older, shit changes and you've got to adjust some things." She roots around in her bag and pulls out a pill bottle.

"I've had manic depression since I was about 15 but by the time I was 18, I had asked my doctor about the longevity of the pills and he acted like a fucking prick about it. Who was I to question his methods as an actual doctor. The bastard took me off the meds cold turkey and I spiraled. It was fucking hell." Y/n had no hesitation explaining her medical history.

"After I changed doctors, I had to start taking medication for an extreme anxiety disorder that was caused by the bullshit he put my body through, which in turn completely shut off all sexual desires until I was at least 21." Jack's attention piqued.

"You had zero sexual desires going into your 20's? I feel like I fucked more at 20 than I have in my whole life." Jack commented.

"It just wasn't there. I would watch porn, read it, try different kink scenes and nothing even got me remotely turned on. Plus the anxiety meds dried my pussy out to an insanely uncomfortable level. It was like sandpaper just trying to masturbate." Jack winced.

"Jesus...what did you do?" He was enthralled now. She was so open with him and it felt good to be able to talk to someone who experienced some shitty medication side effects. He felt less alone in the struggle.

"After being sexless for almost 6 years, I finally said enough. Told my doctor it had to change because I was too young to not get off and I was tired of feeling like my cunt was a wasteland for tumbleweeds." Jack almost spit his coffee from a chuckle.

"Slight medication adjustment and you'll be happy to know I broke the sexless streak and have never been wetter." She held up her coffee cup and Jack clinked his cup to hers.

"Well I'm happy that you've regained a wet pussy and all the sex a nurse has the time for." Jack smirked and she tossed a hash brown at him.

"No pressure obviously. I just think it's stupid to put yourself through bullshit for no reason. We have mental illness but they don't have us. Fuck those stupid chemical imbalanced bullshit. Take back your life, man." Y/n continued to encourage and Jack nodded.

"I really appreciate this. Thank you. You didn't have to do all this but I really do feel like I might be able to use it." Jack tucked the paper into his pocket and Y/n nodded feeling accomplished.

"I will not only commend you on the strides of being able to finally jerk off but to be able to multitask while doing so is pretty impressive." Y/n continued to pick at her food and Jack pinned his eyebrows together confused.

"Multitask? It's pretty simple: point and shoot." Jack chuckled.

"No I meant jerking off while smoking. I would probably set my bed a blaze." She teased making crimson creep up Jack's neck.

"You...how did-"

"Smoke rises sweetheart. The window was open and you weren't exactly being a church mouse." Y/n crumpled her trash and threw it into the brown bag. Jack covered his face with his hands and wanted to silently melt into the chair.

"You're welcome by the way for the free show. I was going to buy you a new ashtray but since you said you were able to cum, I feel like I've completed my job on that one." Y/n reached out and tugged on Jack's elbow.

"Don't be embarrassed. Next time don't be such a tease and get naked yourself." Y/n waited until Jack looked at her before smiling.

"Yeah...I'll be sure to do that...if I don't just throw myself out the window first." Jack scoffed as she got to her feet and whistled to Ace.

"Where's the fun in that?" She smirked giving him a wink.

"Enjoy your day, Thurlow." She called over her shoulder as Ace followed closely behind her. Jack watched her hips sway as she walked away, ass bouncing in light washed jeans. It was the little shake she gave that made him shake his head.

She knew he had seen her. She had seen him. She still got naked. He owes his doctor a fruit basket.

#Jack Thurlow #Jack Thurlow x Y/N #Jack Goes Home #Glass Houses #Glass Houses Series #One Shot Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult #11/38

[topgunreacts]

I do all kinds of sexual dynamics for IceMav because I like variety and it keeps me young. The omegaverse fic is a story of two bottoms taking turns being the top. And I think that’s beautiful.

It exists, and one day when the beta read is over I will post it. Soulmates should be arriving soon. And then you will read about Maverick impulsively marrying a 90-year-old man thinking there’s no way the old man will still be around by the time he meets his soulmate. Get this: that does not happen. Also, he does not have a fugly dog in this one, so not part of the MFUDEU.

For no reason, here is a first draft sneak peek of the start of the IceMav soulmates AU: The Heart is an Empty Room. If you see mistakes then no you didn’t.

It was a lovely mid-June evening in sunny San Diego. A light breeze danced through the trees in the backyard, and the temperature was so perfect there wasn’t a running air conditioner in sight. Flowers in full bloom scattered their heady perfume into the air. All the birds had gone to roost in the canopies and shrubs, chattering at one another over the sound of distant waves crashing into the sand. In the sky, a sliver of a moon hung like a shard of broken glass over the land.

Maverick Mitchell was standing in the expansive kitchen of a rented seaside villa, counting medication. Most of the other TOPGUN students were at the bars, or someone’s house, drinking. Tonight was every student’s last free evening before an intense six weeks of training. Consequently, the average Lieutenant chose drinks and revelry to celebrate his impending aviation glory. Even Goose, the consummate father and steady husband, was somewhere out there throwing back shots until last call. At Miramar, Goose didn’t have to worry about babysitters and not waking the wife. He’d tried to drag Maverick along with him. But Maverick had refused. So there Maverick stood before a quartzite countertop—not a tumbler or shot glass in sight—sorting colored capsules and pills into a two-tiered organizer. The only bottles he planned on opening tonight came from the pharmacy, and contained various forms of prescribed liquids that Maverick knew better than to sample.

Generally speaking, Maverick filled the organizer on Sunday mornings. It was a quiet time on a quiet day, and thus offered the fewest distractions. But this morning he’d woken up late and had to prioritize his errands, and so here he was now, counting on a Sunday evening instead of meeting his peers and future competitors. He’d wanted to go. But there were many things in the world more important than bar hopping. Things such as this medication, and ensuring its ingestion.

It didn’t matter. There would be other chances to let his hair down. Other parties, other chances to mingle. Unlike Maverick, Goose hadn’t flown in until yesterday, and he’d already met a few other aviators who told him that the night after the first session was when the real parties began. Allegedly, nobody got too wild. They were there to learn, after all. So long as everyone got enough sleep to tell the difference between the left and right rudder pedals, no harm no foul. And apparently, things quieted down around week two.

All of this, Maverick knew secondhand. Yes, he’d been in San Diego for an entire month before the other students started showing up, but there’d been endless chores to do and errands to run—thus, no time to gossip or gather intel. Not that Maverick had anyone to blame for that business but himself. Some of the things he’d done—not just that weekend, but all the days since his arrival—fell under the purview of Elise: the cook and housekeeper that had come with the rental property. Maverick did not need to buy the groceries, take the dogs in for their vaccines, vacuum, or wash the linens. But he’d done all four of those chores and more. Chore after chore, errand after errand, some of them unnecessary and others nonsensical—anything, anything, to distract himself from the numbers on his wrist ticking down like a timer on a pipe bomb. If making a second trip to the library in one day helped stifle the sinking feeling in his stomach, then Maverick would do it. If mowing a lawn that didn’t need to be mowed abetted the stress so white-hot it altered his senses and made his back ache, then it was worth it.

Goose had told him to stop looking at his soulmark—a curiously dour order from a typically upbeat man. Back when they first met, Goose had told Maverick about the day he met his own soulmate Carole. It was the stuff of rom coms: they’d each watched the time tick down on their wrists while keeping an eye on the wrong person—Carole, a handsome woman at the bar, and Goose, a fresh young thing playing darts. When they finally made contact, they hadn’t meant to at all. The dart player sneezed, prompting Goose to take a step backward, which sent him straight into Carole, who’d been ready to flee the room after the woman at the bar coolly dismissed her.

Ass over teakettle they went, two humans transforming into a single pile of flustered limbs on the floor. The sustained contact when they helped one another up was enough to seal the bond. By the time they made eye contact, they already knew one another’s hearts. Sparks flew, Goose said. And that ironclad soulbond marking them as a pair settled down between them like an old dog: comfortably, and with a heaving sigh—as though all of creation had been watching the whole time, saying: finally.

Then it was Maverick’s turn to tell the story of his mark. His wasn’t half as whimsical. He’d been one of those desperately troubled kids growing up: a tragic orphan bouncing from foster family to foster family, whose soulmark kept him company when it felt like the whole world was against him. On bad days, Maverick would find a closet or a cupboard somewhere and crawl inside. There, he would tilt his wrist to catch the light and watch the numbers go down. In five thousand days, Maverick would Meet his soulmate. In four thousand days, everything would be just fine. In three thousand days, Maverick would know unconditional love.

Those temporal thoughts were like life jackets keeping him afloat for the longest time. Even after he enlisted, Maverick found himself touching that mark like a lucky stone, willing the future to get here faster. But then he went to France on shore leave, and everything changed. When Goose, fresh from telling his beautiful love story, found out what happened that rainy night in Paris, his mouth dropped open in shock. Once the horror wore off a few days later, Goose wanted to know a few more details, and Maverick provided them. Each new piece of information only served to astound Goose even further.

But he’d stayed by Maverick’s side, troubled history and all. He’d defended Maverick, uplifted him, and given him sound advice. Years later—two months before the kitchen where Maverick counted pills—Goose was sitting next to Maverick on the couch in his Key West sitting room, watching his best friend count the hours down to TOPGUN. Then, Maverick had been staring at his wrist not in joyful anticipation but abject horror, and Goose gave him another bit of sound advice: “Mav. Stop looking at it.”

Not that it would help. The time on Maverick’s wrist did not stop the way he hoped it would. His sorrow was in vain. The numbers kept ticking down and down. In—Maverick lowered a pill bottle and checked his wrist—twenty hours, fourteen minutes, and eleven seconds, Maverick would Meet his soulmate. But here was the thing: he didn’t want to. Once, he’d placed his future love on a pedestal. And now, that person was a nuisance. An unwelcome visitor. Maverick hadn’t wanted things to be this way. But they were. Running was not an option. No one could escape the Meeting.

#icemav #top gun #writing #top gun fanfiction #soulmates au #previews #the heart is an empty room #get fuckin hyped #ask me anything #I’m bad at posting unprompted

[theshippirate22]

Part 2 of the Post-Amber Hunter angst! ft. Everyone's Favorite, Eliza. Enjoy y'all <3

Eliza looked over as Hunter came in through the dark. He had his head down as he toed off his shoes.

She finished the bite of her string cheese and glanced down at the dark hand prints with a sort of benign amusement, and motioned vaguely. “You aware of that?”

He pulled at his belt. “Amber’s dead.”

“... What?”

“Lisinopril. I count it all the time. I didn’t see her take it from the pharmacy. I… I didn’t…” Hunter met her gaze in the dark, morbid sincerity reflecting off his glasses.

“Oh God…” Eliza gasped. “But…”

“She took like, fifty tablets or something. Acute hypotension kicked in and her organs just started shutting down, I guess.”

“Amber?” She murmured. “Your Amber?”

Hunter struggled with it for a moment before whispering profoundly “My Amber.”

The summer when Hunter was six, he found a frog. He claimed it hopped up to him and wanted to be friends, but Eliza- from her great year of extra wisdom- thought he'd been out by the pond where he wasn't supposed to be. He named the frog, something ridiculous like Leonard or Basal, and kept it in a mason jar with holes poked in the lid on his nightstand.

The frog died within the week, of course, because it was not built to live in a jar at the mercy of an overzealous little boy, and Hunter had cried and cried and made Matty go with him into the backyard to dig a grave for the poor creature. There was an impromptu funeral, and Matty made the mistake of actually touching Leonard/Basal's slightly oozy corpse and howled in disgust, promptly hurling the frog away from him.

Hunter was furious, as Hunter was wont to be even that young, and screamed at Matty until he scrambled back into the house to wash his pudgy hands. Hunter had finished the funeral and buried whatever remained of the frog, and sat there at the side of the yard to grieve, until it began to rain, and he decided to come back inside.

Eliza had watched the whole spectacle through the window from where she drew at the kitchen table, and she had looked back as the sliding door slammed closed behind him to say something antagonizing, but he'd had a look on his face- this tight-lipped, empty-eyed, haunted sort of look- that was so immensely sad, it killed whatever retort she had, and instead she just ruffled his hair consolingly as he walked past.

She wasn't expecting to see the same sort of look- albeit, nearly tenfold in extremity- on his face twenty years later.

Eliza whimpered the most horrified sound, covering her mouth with both hands. “Oh, Hunter…”

The dam broke. Hunter’s apparent resolve shattered at the same moment that Eliza reached for him and the pair of them collided with so much desperation that the sob was forced straight from his lungs and against her chest.

She grasped at the back of his neck to pull him in, holding him like she could shield him from it, make it go away entirely. He clawed at her shoulders to drag himself in like he believed she really could.

The pair of them clung to each other and sobbed in the entryway for an entire lifetime, until Eliza's throat hurt and Hunter's hands hurt from where they gripped her shirt. She toyed absently with the hair at the back of his neck and let his breath get shaky against her neck.

"Did she hurt?" Eliza mumbled softly into his hair.

"I don't know," he whispered miserably. "I don't know..."

I'll see you tomorrow.

The thought plays in his head as he pulls the key from underneath the mat. She was in a bad mood, clearly.

Every other thought comes in rapid, angry slashes.

Amber's boots by the door. Orange pills strewn across the floor. Her pale hand around the corner. Blood on her head and the kitchen floor and then on him. The weight of her in his lap as he screams and prays to a god he doesn't believe in. Hands on her chest in shaky CPR. The paramedic's hand on his shoulder.

Hunter startled awake in the dark.

His legs were sore from where they half-stretched out against the bathtub, and he cried out softly at the pain of moving them enough that he could put his head between his knees again to catch his shuddering breath.

It didn't work as well as he'd hoped; with his eyes closed, all he could see was her and blood and pills and it was just as bad as being asleep. He forced his eyes open.

His glasses were on the counter, too far to reach, so everything he could see was sort of hazy and soft. The only reason he could see anything in the dark was because Eliza had left the hall light just outside the bathroom on.

Eliza. Eliza, who was asleep on the floor, with her arms curled up under her to cushion her head against the lip of the tub. He legs were curled beneath her, cramped and cold, and her hair fell every which way, covering her face.

Hunter's whole chest hurt.

There was something safe about it, about her closeness, and the familiarity of sleeping in the bathtub knowing she'd be there. They'd done it a lot as teenagers when their father had gotten particularly belligerent and started going after Hunter. It was easier then, when he was fourteen and he actually fit in the bathtub.

They hadn't done it since they moved to the apartment; there was no reason to anymore.

It felt pathetic. He wasn't a teenager and he hadn't been a teenager for a long time, and he shouldn't want to crawl into his sister's arms like a little kid, but he did.

He wanted to go back, to send Eliza to her, to talk some sense into her, wanted to shake her shoulders and beg her not to do something stupid.

Not to do this.

He laid his head back against the tile and cried again. It was a lot- there was Amber who hated herself and must've hated him to do this and there was him, who also hated himself and knew that on some level this was all his fault, and there was that crippling fear that he'd never been able to shake that he was going to die alone, the same way she had, and there was Eliza, who was going to suffer in the next little bit while he grieved. There was Kelly and Lyn and Taylor and Caleb, who he would have to watch get ruined by Willablues, like had happened to him and Missy, and there was Lee, who would look after him the way a mother would and he wouldn't deserve it because this was his fault. He should've known from Amber's texts, from the way she acted, he should've seen her steal the pills.

And beneath everything, was the ache of the gaping hole Amber had left.

Eliza loved Hunter, of course, but not the way Amber had. Eliza loved him the way an artist loves a painting- as an extension of themselves. But Amber was his best friend. She was the only person who had managed to love him in some form without any expectation. He couldn't remember who he had been before Amber; every moment with her had shaped him into some other half of her. If Hunter was the endless night, Amber was the glowing morning.

Without Amber, it was like part of him had died too. Like he would never be completely Hunter ever again.

And maybe it was fucking pathetic that he only had one friend, his twenty-year-old coworker that only got along with him because she was used to harsh military men and Hunter was sweet compared to that. But it wasn't anything as terrible as knowing that now he didn't have anyone.

Hunter laid his head against the edge of the tub, next to Eliza and tried to catch his breath.

Eliza didn't wake up, but she stirred enough to reach out and take his hand.

#willablues