#fucking bummer man jesus christ

[strangerthings-writer]

Save A Horse, Ride A Freak

(FtM!Eddie x MtF!Steve)

Word Count: 1,398

Summary: Eddie begs Stevie to ride his face, and while Stevie is nervous she’ll be bad at it… she’s actually quite good.

Warnings: NSFW (MDNI) gendered terms for genitals, use of names like “ma’am”, degredation, praise

Eddie has always been the type to initiate things, be the one making the demands while Stevie just seems to follow along. He’s usually a top, for lack of a better term. He doesn’t mind it being that way, in fact he enjoys it, but sometimes he does think about what it’d be like the other way around. Stevie has thought the same thing too. She’s thought about grabbing Eddie by his long hair and fucking him from behind. Getting him down on his knees and fucking into his throat until his lips were all swollen and dripping from his own drool and her cum… God, she would always get carried away with her thoughts, but she was always too anxious to execute them. What if Eddie didn’t like being submissive? What if this was how he liked it and he wanted to stick to it? Sure, it was a bit of a bummer, but she wanted him to have fun.

The aura of tonights little session seemed a bit different, and it had Steve a bit perplexed. Eddie was whining, letting Stevie take the lead in their heated kiss. His hands still wandered, but seemed to only wander very little. He had done this quite a few times now, maybe he wanted to have her on top for once, or maybe he was just playing a trick on her? She had no idea, and had a hard time reading anything Eddie did to begin with, so she pulled away.

“Are you alright? You’ve been acting weird these last few times and uh- I have no clue what’s going on- do you want me to do something different? Or-“ she began, but was cut off by a loud whine from Eddie.

“Jesus christ babe I want you to just- can you fuck me up? Like, just once? Twice maybe? Push me against the bed and drill me, sit on my face and fuck my throat I don’t care just- for the love of god would you please just dominate me once?” He finished, letting out a nervous laugh before covering his face. He knew Stevie was dense but not this dense. He had hoped she’d get the message at some point, but to no avail…

“Oh.” Stevie whispered out, sitting upright and staring down at the man. She felt dumb that she hadn’t caught on to that yet! And here she was, shirtless and looking stupid as she tried to wrap her mind around what her boyfriend just said. “You want me to… you want me to sit on your face?” She spoke, giving him a little smirk.

Eddie’s face went bright red and he huffed, crossing his arms. “I said what I said.” He spoke, trying to hide his bashful state with arrogance. Stevie let out a giggle and stared down at him for a moment contemplating whether she should or not. “…but what if I crush you?” She murmured, “I don’t want to hurt you or anything…”

Eddie rolled his eyes, shaking his head and grabbing onto the hem of her shorts, a pleading look on his face. “If you did, I’d die a happy man, now get up here, Harrington…” he grinned, tapping his lips with his fingers before letting out a laugh. Stevie only rolled her eyes and slipped her shorts and panties off, revealing her half hard cock.

Eddie’s eyes scanned over her body before letting out a delighted giggle, his hands going straight to her hips before looking up at her.

“How do you want this-? Like… my ass? My dick? What?” Stevie asked, getting a bit red in the face for having to be so crude about it. Eddie hummed in thought for a moment before gently grabbing her by the base of her cock, squeezing gently, “dick.” He said simply, giving her a big grin. She let out a little whimper and gave him a nod, “alright alright- I got it,” she laughed, gently slipping up and closer to his mouth before stopping. “You’re sure about thi-“

“Oh my god, Stevie, please.” Eddie whined like a child, stomping his feet impatiently too, just to go with it. He was being dramatic, but all he wanted was his girlfriends cock in his mouth.

Stevie giggled and gave him a slow nod, gently positioning herself over his face and slipping herself down into his mouth. God, it was so warm… so inviting. She could feel herself twitch and harden more-so as she cascaded down further to the back of his throat, earning herself a gag from the messy haired man under her.

“Fuck… that- that feels good…” she whispered, watching him silently. Eddie gagged around her length, his own arousal beginning to work its way up. He was harder than ever, his cunt dripping onto his boxers. God, he could feel it. The way she just eased down into his throat made him melt into putty in her hands.

She decided to test the waters, bringing a hand down to his hair and gripping onto it tightly before she drew herself out, then gently slid back down his throat. “G-good boy…” she whispered, her eyes never leaving him just to make sure she got a good reaction.

And by god, was his reaction heavenly. His eyes fought to stay open as he moaned around her, bucking his hips up into absolutely nothing but the now painful and teasing feeling of his boxers and jeans. This was perfect, both of them couldn’t get enough of one another in that moment, and they had only just started. Eddie gripped onto her hips, watching her as she would pull herself back and sink low into his throat, repeating this motion. She relished in the noises of the soft gagging and moaning coming from Eddie’s mouth, along with the sputtering from the excess saliva collecting in his mouth. He was covered in his own drool, some dripping down his cheek as he kept his tongue out to give her enough room to slide deliciously down his throat with ease.

She was practically dripping down his throat by now, her cock red hot and seeping at the tip. He could feel it… it felt like something out of a porno he had watched.

She tugged on his hair a bit harder and bit her lip, letting out a moan, “fuck- such a g-good little slut… you like when I use you like this, hm? When I make you my little whore?”

Those words sent Eddie’s blood running straight to his clit, his cock throbbing and straining against the fabric. He wanted to move his hands, give himself some sort of release, but Stevie was quick to stop him. “Ah ah, no. You can touch yourself when I’m satisfied…” got it?” She grunted, pulling from his mouth to let him speak. What followed were sputters and coughs as her spit covered cock was set free, his eyes going glossy. “Yes ma’am-“ he struggled to get out, looking utterly blissed out.

She was not expecting that one. It was so simple, yet so fucking hot. Something about Eddie Munson calling her ‘ma’am’ sent a shockwave down her spine. She bit her lip and let out a small giggle, slipping back down into his throat as she began to thrust a bit harder. “Good boy…” she gasped, gripping onto the bed frame.

It didn’t take long for her to get closer to the edge, letting her mouth hand open and small words of praise and expletives spilling from her parted lips.

Before she could reach orgasm, she pulled out from Eddie’s mouth and grabbed his hand, setting it onto her cock. “You know what to do-“ she gasped out, and Eddie was quick to move his hand along her length, leaving his mouth open with his tongue peaking out of his mouth.

Stevie’s orgasm was quick to envelope her entire body, a shiver running down her spine and a loud moan escaping her lips as she shot her load onto Eddie’s face, getting it in his hair, on the apples of his cheeks, his eyelids, his tongue, his chin… needless to say, he was well painted.

Eddie licked up some of the cum from his chin while Stevie wiped off the bit that was on his eyelid and he smiled up at her, giving her a daring look.

“My turn.”

#stranger things #steddie #nsft #mtf steve harrington #stevie harrington #ftm eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington

[gizkasparadise]

so binged alice in borderland from mid s1 to the end. mixed thoughts about it overall-- cut for spoilers & not a 100% positive response

+

the heart games all packed a huge punch. the burn-the-witch/beach episodes were some of my favorite between both seasons and the jack of hearts games was so simply cruel in a great way

the king of clubs game eps were probably my favorite in the series. i loved the team element, the mixture of psychology and action, the opponents were fun, and the game mechanics were interesting 

i liked that, for the most part, none of the games had loopholes to get out of them. they might have had mechanics twists, but i really enjoyed how everyone had to play by the rules--players and citizens

kuina + ann, my beloveds. ft. chishiya

i like that arisu isnt involved in every single face card game/some of the side characters or even background characters clear those stages without him

i loved it ending on the joker so much

-

jesus christ the male gaze on some of the camera work/direction. like. do we really need a fucking panty shot on a high school girl?? or when they’d have a female character climbing, crawling, etc. and the camera would be lined up with their ass the entire way. or when the high school girl confessed to being a dealer and, again, a medium-shot that made sure to include her ass. ridiculous and aggravating once i started noticing it more and more

sort of related, but there’s some stuff that translates from manga and some stuff that doesnt. the footware by a good chunk of the female cast for a big part of the series made 0 sense for players who had been doing games for a long time (platform flipflops? high heels? the fuck?)

why. didnt. niragi. die

why was everyone cool with letting usagi team up with the man who tried to rape her??? why did literally anyone hesitate to shoot this man? i get why they worked with him during the king of clubs game, but after that? my eyes rolled back into my head when arisu hesitated to kill him toward the end of the series. also why didnt he stay in the games when that had been his whole edgelord philosophy?

some of the face card games were pretty disappointing. aside from the montages (bummer that we missed them!!), the king of diamonds game fell really flat for me

while it was hilarious to see aguni respawn like 900 times when all the dude wanted to do was to just take a dirt nap and reunite with his 3-times divorced ex-husband, the stakes felt way lower in season 2 than they did in season 1 overall. the king of clubs games went hardest and that was the first-ish game of s2, so it kind of de-escalated as it went in suspense (like i knew ann wasn’t really dead in ep 7/8 because by that point every single main character was surviving literally anything)

#alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no arisu #jdrama

[clarenecessities]

6/18/23

it’s just kind of a huge fucking bummer when i’m all excited to learn shit and interact with people who care about motu and they keep dumping on satpop, often unprompted. like it’s been three years since i got into this stuff & i’m just now dipping my toes into the designated satpop boards because i know the general opinion among he-fans has been, shall we say, unfavorable--and it’s worse than i feared! like for a website that won’t let you say pussy they sure don’t shy away from disgusting rhetoric!

like it’s one thing for toyguru to Be An Idiot on his youtube channel, that’s on me for even trying to watch his content--idk man, this is a moderated forum where people are supposed to have genuine/good faith discussions, not complain about how unfuckable the teenagers look. i know i’m in the minority here, i’m not expecting it to be as busy as the he-man threads, but i’d like it to be as respectful at least. poor fucking Tallstar (and god bless Tallstar, fr) was out there carrying like 40% of the threads and just being swamped in miserably commentary from people who hated what they were watching.

i can’t in good conscience tell people to check out the org, because the people i interact with are satpop people first and foremost, and the org is incredibly inhospitable on that front. there’s like 19k members and nobody’s posted in the satpop boards since may 16th. i’m hesitant to post there, and i’ve been here for years. and yeah it sure doesn’t help that the main website has been down since october of 2021, but CHRIST. i know they’re doing shit behind the scenes. i know that. i have to believe that. they wouldn’t have been Entirely Down for 2 months otherwise, right? but all we have is the forums, and those don’t even indicate that SatPOP has ended. it’s just a bummer! it feels like, jesus, you cared about this for like 30 years, what changed now?

they don’t even have the ‘yeah sorry we’re down for maintenance, could be a few weeks/months’ alert up anymore, so anyone following a link to an article or something will just get redirected to the forums with no explanation.

and i still haven’t gotten my upgraded account. idek if it’s legal for them to refund me at this point because it’s been two years but i just want to change my icon. that’s all i fucking want. i’m not going to use my business email for this, i’ve had fucking four since i tried signing up. just let me in. let me in and like, actually hold people accountable for their shit, perhaps?

god. i should have just stuck with the modern shit. there’s no reason to be doing this to myself at this point. it’s nice to interact with historians and people i respect and all but christ, is it worth it? i can’t even tell someone to go fuck themselves. the censors are higher than on neopets yet the things i’ve seen people say are somehow more disgusting than twitter

whatever. fuck you, Lokus. Lokus go to hell challenge. explode x1000

#daily clare

[imnotyopapi]

synopsis: a dinner date with the friend that you totally don’t have any feelings for going relatively unexpected.

fem reader - het romance

a bit nsfw

we’re nothing, we’re just friends, there’s nothing more than that and anything that were to be more than that is purely imagination, right?

fuck. yeah. i’m right.

he’s just the boy who parades my mind in the hours of the night i’m not thinking all too clearly, or the one i’m off with the daisy’s thinking about when work’s quiet, or the one where -

i don’t want him.

he’s invited me out to dinner and drinks tonight, it’ll be nice to wind down for once, it’s been a full on week with everything i’ve had going on. i’ll wear this gorgeous blue dress i got a while back, it should get some attention from him, i don’t want anything with him nor is anything to happen, i just like the thought of him gazing with those eyes. those fucking eyes. i’m getting distracted.

‘here comes the airplane’ and a piece of sushi between two chopsticks coming rapidly towards my face. fuck, he’s an idiot. but, i mean, he makes me laugh i guess? 3 bottles of wine down and shit, i guess we’re getting some more.

he starts talking, i don’t really know what about? he’s just saying a bunch of words i don’t quite understand, but i smile and nod anyways, it’s still interesting to me, and hell, i kind of want to keep hearing his voice.

i don’t know if it’s the alcohol in my system or if he looks both like a serial killer, and kind of fucking hot right now.

if i have to force myself to look somewhere else because i caught myself staring at him one more time, i’m going to lose my shit.

*A-Punk by Vampire Weekend starts playing in the background*

jesus christ! one hand, he lifts my chin up with his finger to make me look him in his eye, and the other, wrapped around my wrist, he’s pulling me up. ‘come dance, don’t be a bummer!’ he slurs. fuck it.

i have no clue how much time has passed, it feels like it’s frozen, and i want it to stay that way. he has no idea how to dance and i fucking love it. he spins me out, i reach my arm out, tilting back, and he spins me back in, and as i come in, his hand comes around my lower back and causes our hips to rub together. ‘bold.’, i say. i can’t really mutter much more than that because if there’s one thing this man can do, it’s catching me off guard. staring at my lips, i think he’s uncovered the anxiousness that was obvious by me biting them. ‘bold..’ he says to himself, and then i see him mouth ‘fuck it.’

he pins me up against a wall, one hand over my head, ‘you think that was bold?’, he leans in, with a dead expression in his eyes, i stutter, but i can’t get any words out. how does he reply to that? a smirk, a fucking smirk. this fucking man-

my hand pushes further against the wall mimicking the way he pushes his lips against mine, he pulls away by a matter of millimeters, his bottom lip dragging against mine, just for him to go in again.

i haven’t fucking ever been in this situation before, what the fuck do i do?

i slip a bit of tongue, and the tip of his tongue meets the end of mine, he pulls away to bite my lip, dragging my bottom lip between his teeth for a split moment, before we start making out again.

after what feels like a whole 10 minutes have passed, he finally leans back, i feel an exhale as he comes away, and both of us are completely out of breath.

i don’t want him.

oh, fuck it.

i pull him in by his belt and mimic every last fucking movement he did to me, the lipbite, the brush, every last fucking thing.

once i’ve backed off after another, what, probably 10 minutes he looks at me again with those dead fucking eyes.

he leans in towards my ear, and after a light nibble he whispers ‘that’s it?’ and he stands back for a moment.

‘give me a chance, anything you could want, or anything you fucking crave, it’s yours.’ he exclaims, loud enough for everyone on the floor to hear, but i don’t think he cares?

he looks at you with that fucking smirk again.

i don’t want him, there’s nothing between us.

yeah, there’s nothing. totally. we’re just friends.

i fucking hate this guy. let’s go.

#romance #fluff #flufftober #fwb #fem reader

[theharpermovieblog]

#HARPERSMOVIECOLLECTION

2023

I watched The Visitor (1979)

A science fiction horror movie starring many well known actors and directors. A movie I never knew existed until recently.

A conspiracy to once again impregnate a woman who can give birth to demonic superpowered children draws out a strange man from beyond, sent by jesus.

At about 8 minutes into The Visitor I said out loud, "Wait....what the fuck is happening?" I then realized that for the last 8 minutes I had been watching and hearing things I didn't understand at all. Well, other than the fact that Jesus was there and there was terrifying girl with bird feathers covering her and then there was a basketball game where the little girl was controlling the players....maybe? She definitely exploded the hoop. I think.

Anyway, despite not having any idea what I was watching, I was unbelievably interested. It's bad storytelling for sure, but I wanted to know more. There's something very watchable about the things that are happening on screen at first. I wasn't frustrated by the things I didn't know. I felt like I was just drifting along with the movie. That enthusiasm lasted about halfway to a little more than halfway.

I chose to watch this weird movie because the cast includes directors John Huston and Sam Peckinpah, along with other big names like Franco Nero, Lance Henriksen, Shelley Winters, Glenn Ford.....this is a wild cast for someone who loves movies. Especially in a 70's Italian style sci Fi horror.

The plot is a mish mash of movies like the Exorcist, the Omen and Rosemary's Baby with the addition of Jesus Christ and, what is described in summaries of the film as, an intergalactic warrior. Toss in a big and bold funky 70's score and you start to get an idea of what the movie is, but it's also indescribable. Things happen in this movie that kept me saying "Wait...what the fuck is happening?" Long after the first 8 minutes.

There are some great wide shots in this film along with a pretty ok performance from the "evil child", which really helps a movie like this. It's pacing is fever pitch and then suddenly becomes like mid at one point.

As much as I've talked about the strange and confusing nature of the movie, I followed along just fine as far as the basic premise. I don't really know what the movie was trying to say thematically, but I don't think the director did either.

Is this a good movie?

Good movies are not this confusing for no reason and don't have characters who react to being crippled by just smiling their way through it.

This movie feels like an idea someone thought of during a come down from a mushroom trip. It's not all there, but it sounds cool.

This is an enjoyably bad movie for the most part, besides getting pretty slow near the end. It's entertaining and fascinating at points and sometimes it's pretty funny.

But it's not a good movie. Which is a bummer because this movie drips with talented people and the beginning draws you in.

If you're going to watch this for any reason it should be to listen to the How Did This Get Made podcast episode that covers it.

#the visitor

[calummss]

The Gentlest Despondency | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

part three of the odd comfort series

I II <- please read part 1 and 2 otherwise this won’t make sense

summary: your arranged marriage finally takes a toll on you

pairing: modern day! tommy shelby x fem! reader

words: 1.9k

a/n: tommy is NOT canon. i altered his character to my liking for the story, though he's pretty much the same just more sarcastic and flirty

Most of your days with Thomas Shelby were spent bickering if you didn’t lock yourself in your room and ignored every person in the house until he came back from whatever business he had to attend. Business was more important than the new toy he purchased… It was no good ignoring Thomas Shelby like you did the others. That was pictured clear when he kicked your bedroom door open, breaking it in the process. He forced you to go out with one of his men named John to go buy a new door because apparently since it was your doing that broke the door.

— ‘Jesus fucking christ! Do you like manhandling women half your size? Does it make you feel big and strong? Intimidating?

— ‘Little mouse, your mother never washed out that filthy mouth of yours? And yes I do.’

More ridiculous conversations like that followed…

— ‘I’m going out with Chelsea. I’ll be back later!’

— ‘No you’re not.’

— ‘Why not?’

— ‘Because I said so.’

— ‘It’s 2021. Women have rights you know. Maybe you should open that law book that’s collecting dust in the library.’

— ‘Do you know what right you have, little mouse?’

— ‘I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.’

— ‘The right to shut up and go back and change out of that tight dress before I tear it off myself.’

— ‘Little mouse.’

— ‘Stop calling me that. It makes my blood boil.’

— ‘You being angry only turns me on.’

— ‘Have you ever killed a woman?’

— ‘No.’

— ‘I don’t believe you. It’s just the type of fun you’d love.’

— ‘Are you offering to be my first?’

— ‘Oh look, Arthur needs help baking a cake.’

— ‘Are you filling out a crossword puzzle?’

— ‘You have eyes don’t you?’

— ‘Don’t you have more evil agendas to go through?’

— ‘Ticked them all off already.’

— ‘I have business from Thursday to Sunday so I won’t be here.’

— ‘What a bummer.’

When you dread the day you give up your last name—your identity, and have to perform the crucial ritual to really bond two people, days start to blend into each other. Two weeks felt like 48 hours. Time went by faster than you could blink, and you were scared.

You were born into violence, raised by violence, consulted by violence, comforted, and acknowledged by it. But it was your family’s violence that you knew and were able to survive. You had no idea of Thomas Shelby’s violence. What he was capable of. Yes, you’ve heard of the incident where Thomas killed more than 100 men that specific day three years ago but those men had it coming… Men that glowed in desperation for underage sex slaves. They were scum. And that was the only time you ever thanked Thomas Shelby for anything, even if he didn’t know.

What was he going to do with you? Would he force you into bed and fuck you until you bled out or went numb? Would he be different and not take you until you were comfortable? Or was he Satan's offspring that would do it on the altar? In front of the man that swore celibacy, your family that had known you since you were a newborn, or his family? Nothing but questions filled your mind as you spaced out.

The dress was almost as tight as the invisible noose tied around your neck. Marrying a Shelby was a sucide mission but as far as suicide missions go, no one cared. They had to be carried out despite what the person risking their life thought of it.

White: Goodness, innocence, purity, and virginity.

Sexist ritual that made you sick to your stomach.

You told Thomas that you’d marry him (not like you had a choice), but there was no way in hell that you’d wear a white dress. Like the creep he was, Thomas suggested a pink dress instead since it was your favourite colour. Of course he knew that but then again did everyone else since your entire wardrobe barely had any other colour except the occasional purple and green.

Thomas also did not care. Quote: ‘I really don’t care what your dress looks like, little mouse, as long as the name Shelby stands behind your name.’

Which was kind of sweet if you took away the part where he is a heartless psychopath that forced you into this marriage.

‘Stay still, Mrs. Shelby.’ Mary pulled at the corset strings to tie it so tight you felt as if you’d die of asphyxiation.

‘I’m still an Eyrie.’ You breathe in, corset sitting tighter at your waist.

Mary was a rather hateful woman for her age. When you think of old ladies the colour pink may come to mind, flowers, knitting, feeding seagulls by the sea. Mary was like the colour of wine. Dark. Thorns, fire, knives came to mind when you thought of her. She’s been hateful since you arrived. Since you stepped foot into the Shelby household you were treated like an outsider, like you were competition. Maybe she was delusional because Thomas Shelby would never choose some wrinkly mole rat over someone young and fresh; you. This treatment reminded you that you never were and never would be a Shelby. Even in the eyes of God.

‘Stay still.’

‘Why?’ You steadied yourself by holding your arms out in front. ‘So you can cut off my oxygen supply on Thomas Shelby’s order?’

‘Funny.’ Her lips pressed together, her eyes burning holes into the mirror to look at you. ‘Now hold still or I’ll do it on my own order.’

You rolled your eyes in response. Ugh. ‘Hag.’

‘Rat.’ She pulled the ribbon tighter, shutting you up for the rest for the fitting.

At the altar you said the dreading words, bile climbing up your throat as your hands slightly trembled in the giant ones of Thomas Shelby. Then the kiss: Soft like cotton, smooth as butter as his lips caught between yours. Your heart fluttered for just a split second when his imitating-self lowered his guard for just a moment. For you. No tensed muscles whilst your lips touched. Just softness until the cheering of Thomas’ family pulled you back, eyes darting across the room unable to focus as the shame engulfed you. You turned back to him, your eyes telling him that you hated all of his but his eyes only reminded you that you were now his. Forever until death do you part.

The party afterwards felt like a fever dream. Bright lights; loud music; lots of people you didn’t know; guards everywhere keeping an eye on you and everyone else; Thomas was smoking with his brothers, his eyes on you. But you didn’t notice. Fear started to creep into your conscience. Your breath caught in your chest as your head snapped in every direction possible.

This is too loud. Too many people. I’m going insane. I can’t go insane. I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here, I need to get fucking out of here.

A great sense of weariness swept over you, sucking your energy with it. You stumbled backwards into a waiter knocking off the drinks he was carrying. Your hands moved to his chest, whispering a small, ‘I’m so sorry.’ as your feet picked up pace and scurried into the house. Tears started to well in the rim of your eyes before they fell. Your heart was heavy. Your head full. You don’t know how long you rushed through the house until you came to a stop in the second living room that was facing away from the party.

You hunched yourself over the table. Your sobs were uncontrollable. The weeks at the Shelbys finally caught up with you.

Fuck Father. Fuck Thomas Shelby. Fuck Thomas Shelby.

‘Fuck!’ You screamed at the top of your lungs. Tears streaming down your face. Your hands found themselves grasping each and every item near you and flung them around the room. With one big swipe the multiple vases, table decor and a fruit bowl hit the ground. The sound of breaking glass filled the almost empty void, the bass of the music still pumping throughout the house.

The veil that masked the loneliness you felt the past weeks dropped. Keeping up the sarcastic character you played throughout the day was tiring. Each night you ended the day by drowning in your tears. Wet stains that covered your blanket that engulfed you like a wave that pulled you down to the bottom of the ocean. It was hard to pretend that this whole thing didn’t affect you.

More screams escaped your lips, from the continued pain that Thomas Shelby had caused you, to the multiple cuts on your hand that were the result of your breakdown. Red stained your hands, your face, hair, your wedding dress. A beautiful tragedy straight out of a Stephen King novel.

Your cries turned to whimpers, sadness overcame everything else.

What the fuck is happening to me?

‘Y/n,’ The voice of Thomas Shelby snapped you out of your thoughts. Your glossy eyes met his. It could’ve been a hallucination caused by the adrenalin high but a flicker of worry could be seen in Thomas’ face at the state of your appearance. ‘What the fuck happened?’

You felt a sting of melancholy and confusion. ‘What happened?’ You pulled your eyebrows together, clammy hands at your hips. ‘What the fuck happened? What the fuck happened, Thomas, was you!’ Your heart twisted. ‘This is all your fault.’

Thomas stepped further into the room. Upright posture, one eyebrow raised, dark eyes burning into you.

Could he just stop for a moment!

‘My fault?’ His hand smoothed over his lower face. ‘What do I have to do with the state of you?’

‘Because you wanted me.’ You yelled back. New tears welled in your eyes. ‘The reason I am like this is because you chose me.’

Your heels clicked against the marble floor. An arm-length apart from Thomas.

‘All your fault!’ You let out a cry like yell and started hitting Thomas. Your hits against his chest felt like a feather trying to break a stone wall. Weak.

He didn’t move. He didn’t step away or try to stop you. Thomas took it like he knew this was what he deserved.

‘Fucking fight back you asshole.’ The gloomy pit inside of you burst. ‘Fight back!’

‘Y/n, hey hey hey.’ His large hands wrapped themselves around your wrist, holding them tightly in the air to restrict your movements.

‘Let me go.’ The words strangled in your throat.

‘No.’

Weak pushes and pulls failed to get you out of his grasp as you tried to fight with every last burning hatred that slowly died out.

‘Let me go.’ A whisper that fell silent before you collapsed in his frame. His arms slinging around you for support as you both lowered yourself to the floor.

You felt tired.

A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your sunken frame and lifted you from the ground.

‘This is all your fault, Thomas Shelby. You made me like this.’

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby blurbs #tommy shelby headcanons #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby hot #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby sad #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #period drama #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagines #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #john shelby #arthur shelby #polly gray #michael gray

[rebouks]

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Transcript:

Larry: Ey-yo! Bar man!

Bartender: Wait your fucking turn like everyone else.

Larry: You gotta ring an ambulance, dude! Someone in the bathroom is super fucked up.

Bartender: [sighs] Are you serious?

Larry: Yeah, hurry up!

Bartender: What’s wrong with ‘em?

Larry: I dunno, I ain’t a doctor! We think maybe he OD’d.

Bartender: Shit, alright. Hang tight, I’ll call one now.

Rhys: Y’gotta come to the bathroom with me.

Ivan: I’m sure y’can piss on your-...

Rhys: I think Oscar might be in trouble.

...

Ivan: Jesus Christ.. Oscar?!

Rhys: Is he okay?

Ivan: Does he fuckin’ look okay t’you, Rhys?!

Miles: My pal went to get someone n’ ring an ambulance.

Rhys: We know... I should’ve come up here with him. I thought he was just drunk!

Ivan: He’ll be xannied up t’fuck as well.

Rhys: Crap. I didn’t know.

Ivan: If I’d have been here sooner...

Rhys: Is he breathin’? Do we do mouth to mouth? Where’s the fuckin’ ambulance-.. what are we s’posed t’do?!

Ivan: Quit panickin’... He’ll be fine; he has t’be.

[SIRENS]

Miles: Sounds like the ambulance is here...

...

Tommy: What happened?

Miya: I can take a wild guess.

Tommy: D’you reckon he’ll be alright?

Miya: I sure hope so. Doesn’t look too great though, does it?

Tommy: Don’t say that...

Ivan: They’re lettin’ me go with, I’ll call you later.

Rhys: Yeah, alright. Shit, I-...

Ivan: Y’didn’t know, man.

...

Tommy: What’re we s’posed t’do now?

Rhys: I dunno. Wait, I guess.

Hunter: What a bummer.

Tommy: Shut the fuck up, Hunter.

#somnium #sims 4 #storytelling #ts4 story #sims story #simblr #oscar finch #ivan harper #rhys wesley #hunter finney #miya foster #tommy dawson #twdrugs #twoverdose

[thiswasinevitableid]

A prompt if you’re interested: From the very end of the last chapter of “Amnesty Records” where you wrote “a song about two ghosts finding each other in the woods, falling so in love that they come back to life.” Indruck, please! Your choice of rating! Meet uglies and so sweet you’ll get cavities are always welcome! Thank you!

I decided to pair this ask with the prompt for the 31st, which is "nothing truly ends."

Content note: this contains references to a car crash.

31. Nothing truly ends

Indrid stumbles back up the embankment; it’s a miracle he can move at all, the way the car rolled ought to have broken a few bones but here he is, barely a scratch on him. He holds his phone up but there’s no signal. Fucking NRQZ.

Headlights cut through the raindrops up ahead and frantically waves his arms, calling for them to stop. The mini-van pulls over and a woman hurries out, the man in the passenger seat calling to the children clamoring about to stay in the car.

“Thank you so much for stopping. I, I hydroplaned and by the time I got control the car was already-”

“Jesus.” The man turns to the woman, who’s holding her cellphone as a flashlight, “anyone down there?”

“No” Indrid approaches them, “I was the only passenger.”

“I can’t quite...oh christ, Arthur, there’s someone in the driver’s seat, they’re not moving. I’m going to go down, if they’re stuck maybe we can help them.”

“I’ll call 911 and come right down after. Boys, you stay put you hear?”

“For goodness sake, there’s no need for this fuss, I’m right here. Hey, hey! Can’t you hear me?” He steps into the beam of the headlights. Freezes when he casts no shadow.

When he holds up his hand, the light passes right through it.

“Well, fuck me I guess.” He whispers, following the woman’s flashlight to where an arm is hanging through the broken driver side window.

When it registers, when he screams, the other travelers don’t even flinch, but every bird and beast scatters away.

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

It’s not fair; he’s incorporeal and yet he cannot get past this line in the trees. Whenever he tries, it’s like ramming his shoulder into a brick wall.

“Yeah, that was a real bummer when I worked it out.”

He spins, startled, to find the source of the drawl to be another man. About his age, he’d say, and dressed like a park ranger. He flicks his eyes downward; not a human shadow in sight.

“Who are you?”

“Duck Newton, it’s a nickname.” He holds out his hand, “forcibly retired ranger and, uh, fellow ghost.”

Indrid takes the offered hand, the touch colder than the worst winter night, “Indrid Cold, yes like the urban legend.”

“Bet you’d be more pleasant to pick up than they say he was. I, uh, I mean, for, uh, for a ride, a, a car ride” color rises in Duck’s cheeks, “that’s, that’s uh, fuck, that’s the only way I mean.”

He’s too tired to decipher whether that was attempted flirting; having the first person to try and pick him up in months be a dead guy might be bleaker than the accident that put him here.

“Why can’t I move beyond here?”

“Ghosts get tethered to where they died; you can only move a certain radius outside it. Guess yours and mine overlap.”

Indrid nods. Then he sags down onto a fallen log, “I spent my whole life trying not to be trapped somewhere. Seems fate had other plans.”

Duck steps closer, “You were the wreck last night, right? Then fate’s got fuck-all to do with it. That was just bad luck and a wet road.”

“No!” Indrid snaps, “no, there, there must be a reason, a cause and effect, a, I, it’s too pointless.”

“Hey, look, it’s okay, I know how you feel-”

“How did you die?” Perhaps there’s a connection, something about the place, some tie between them.

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “I drowned. I was helpin evacuate a campground near here durin a freak flood and, uh, well, I got everyone out except for myself.”

“Then, as someone who died for a greater purpose, kindly shut the hell up about how I feel.”

“Indrid-”

“Please just go.” He tucks his knees up to his chest and hides his face against them, keeping them there as footsteps that only he can hear fade down the trail.

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

Today was the day to break his personal stone-skipping record, but Duck’s heart really isn’t in it. He can’t stop thinking about Indrid; it’s been five days since they met and there’s been no sign of the other ghost. He really hopes he didn’t royally fuck things up with the one person who can really keep him company.

Not that Indrid owes him company. And not that Duck is ever going to admit that his first thought at seeing him was that it was crime for death to rob some guy or other of the chance to kiss that captivating face.

After sinking the fifth stone in a row on the first skip, he turns from the lake and hikes into the trees. It would be easier to float up above for a better view, but moving through the woods this way helps him pretend that everything is normal.

He finds Indrid in the roots of a massive pine tree, laying on his side and sobbing. Duck knows the sound, the way crying croaks and gasps out when you’ve been doing it for days on end.

“Indrid?”

Brown eyes glance up at him before returning to their thousand yard stare.

Duck sits down on a root near his head, “You were right that we didn’t end up here the same way. But, uh, if you need to talk, I got a pretty good sense of what you’re goin’ through. Or I can fuck off if you want me to.”

Leaves crunch as Indrid shakes his head.

“You wanna talk about it?”

A raspy inhale, then, “I, I had s-so many th-things I wanted to, to do. I, I was going to drive the loneliest road, and see that big aquarium out on the coast, and, and I wanted to have rats, two of them, a studio somewhere all my own and, and my, my friend was going to teach me poker when I next saw him and I won’t ever even get to do a m-mundane, small thing like that ever again and I, I feel so stupid for grieving it.”

“First thing I got sad about after the, y’know, bein’ dead part was that I was never gonna get the tattoo I wanted.”

“We’ll never see anyone we love ever again.” Indrid says to the trees.

“Yeah. I’m real fuckin jealous of folks who beefed it at home. Fuck, even a hospital wouldn’t be too bad to get stuck in. Could go up to the kids floor, put on little puppet shows for ‘em when the nurses weren’t looking. But, uh, the Monongahela ain't so bad; I know you ain’t got the attachment to it that I did when I died I just, uh, just want you to know that as final places go, you could do a lot worse. And, uh” he touches Indrid’s shoulder, “someone’s pack got bumped outta a river raft a few months back. Had a deck of waterproof playin cards in it. So if you ever wanna learn how to play poker I can teach you.”

Indrid sniffles and without thinking Duck strokes his hair to see if it helps. The newer ghost suddenly flips onto his other side and buries his face against Duck’s stomach, sobbing and shaking so intensely that if he still had bones, Duck would be worried about him breaking them.

It’s been so long since he comforted someone. Yet it’s the easiest thing in the world to sit under the setting sun and hold Indrid too him until, either an eternity or a moment later, he falls into the closest thing he can to sleep.

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

“Are you certain we won’t frighten anyone?”

“Nah” Duck waves him into the road leading to the Eastwood Campground, “Even the most open minded folks have a hard time spottin’ ghosts in the daytime. Ugh, c’mon, the sign about bears is right there.” Duck clears an open bag of chips from the table and unlatches the bear box to shove them inside it. His hand stays on the metal, “goddamn I miss nachos.”

“I’d murder someone for fruit gushers.”

Duck raises an eyebrow.

“That was a joke.”

The ranger snickers, “Thought so.”

It’s a problem Indrid had in life; sometimes too literal when interpreting other’s jokes and too deadpan in his own delivery. It hasn’t stopped Duck from goofing off with him; he just bends his approach, learns the little tells in Indrid’s face that mean he’s kidding. Then Indrid gets to bask in his friend’s ridiculous laugh bouncing through the trees.

They move through the campground, eavesdropping now and then as they pick up litter and check fire pits to be certain they’re out. Indrid teases Duck for not being able to let go of his work but they both know he’s been drawing quite a lot in the sand lately for lack of a pen and paper. When he’d looked up, sheepish, at Duck staring at his damp twilight scene, the ranger shrugged and said, “It helps to feel like you’re still you.”

As they’re debating whether the depths of the sea or the depths of space are scarier, Duck stops with a faint shhc of gravel. A woman in a uniform the same as his own is chatting with some campers, smiling and laughing as she does.

“Juno?” Indrid murmurs.

Duck nods, “I tried talkin to her once or twice but...she can’t hear me.” His smile is the saddest Indrid’s ever seen, “glad she’s doin’ okay.”

Indrid waits until the ranger finishes her discussion and disappears back towards the station at the campground entrance.

“Shall we go see if those Great Horned Owl chicks have hatched?”

“Yeah. Yeah let’s do that. Might even see the parents; it’s real neat to, uh, to get that close to ‘em.” He clears his throat, “guess bein’ dead’s got some benefits.”

Indrid bumps their shoulders together as they turn towards home, “True.”

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

“Hey, ‘Drid, come look!”

Indrid floats upward until he’s just above the tree-tops, let’s Duck pull him over so they can hover side by side. His friend’s whole body floods with blues, reds, and sparkling white-golds. As the fireworks crackle and boom from the distant speck that is downtown Kepler, Duck rests his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

“Forgot how much fun it is to watch these with someone.”

“I’m glad my cheering is so--OOH! I’ve never seen one in a star shape before!” He flaps his hands and Duck laughs.

“Knew the fella who plans these shows; always tried to get the most cuttin’ edge stuff. Not sure they were always the most, uh, legal fireworks, but their fire safety protocols were damn good.”

“I don’t suppose they do them any other time of the year?”

“New Years, and sometimes they’ll do ‘em around Christmas. You’ll like New Years; they managed a rainbow last time.”

Indrid grins, tilting his head to rest it on Duck’s own, “I can’t wait.”

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

Indrid half floats, half walks his usual route to what he and Duck long ago started calling “their” lake. There’s some portions of each other’s radii that they can’t enter, which means they sometimes spend a few days apart. In the beginning, Indrid sought Duck out because the thought of being alone terrified him. Now, well over a year later, he goes to him because there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Because he misses him when they’re apart.

The last time they were together, Duck kept looking at him like he was a priceless painting--or, given this was Duck, perhaps an rare pine he thought had gone extinct--and when Indrid met his eyes they both blushed like teenagers in the backseat.

He’s so busy remembering the way Duck kept leaning into his space that he doesn’t notice the hiker until he hears, “brrrr, when did it get so fucking cold?”

“Dude, it’s like eighty degrees.”

There’s a whole flock of twenty-somethings on the beach, some cranking up music and tossing stones into the water while others unload beer from a cooler. Duck is perched on a rock, watching them.

“Going to catch up on town gossip?”

“Damn right. These kinda shindigs are always fun to watch. Though if they start boning, I’m out. I’m a ghost, not a creep.”

“Agreed.” Indrid stretches out on the stone to enjoy the show.

It’s well after midnight when the remaining guests--the ones who haven’t snuck off to the bushes--switch the music from alt rock to alt folk, ushering in a series of slow songs that have both the living and the dead swaying.

“Wanna dance?” Duck nudges their feet together.

Indrid stands, pulling him up along with him. There’s a moment of trying to remember whose hand goes where, then Indrid’s arm is around Duck’s waist, Duck’s arm is around his shoulder, and their hands are linked. It’s a clumsy, sort-of waltz, barely in time with the music, but Indrid can’t stop smiling as they spin. He doesn’t look down, doesn’t track their path, nothing in the world could pull his gaze away from the curves of Duck’s face.

When the song ends, stars glitter above and beneath them.

“Danced us halfway across the lake.” Duck smiles up at him.

Indrid rests their foreheads together, “Shall we see how many dances it takes to reach the other side?”

“Lead the way.”

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

They’re walking their usual path along the lakeside when Duck asks, “If you ever got the chance to be alive again, what’s the first thing you’d do?”

Indrid toes pebbles into the water, “Truthfully? Come back here with a Ouija Board so we could talk.”

Something strained enters Duck’s laugh, “First thing you’d do is come back to the place you died? You’d be alive, ‘Drid, you could do anythin’ you wanted to.”

“I feel alive now, more than I did for much of my actual life. I know that sounds sad and pathetic but it’s true. The years we’ve spent together makes me feel like the world is full of promise, the future is bright, even though we’ll never move beyond this patch of trees until the heat death of the universe.” He pivots so they’re face to face, “why? What would you do?”

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “Come back here and try to find you. I...I love you so goddamn much, Indrid. I wish you’d gotten to live the long, long life you deserved but, uh, at the same time I’m so fuckin’ glad we met. That we found each other, even if it was too late for us to build a life together.”

Indrid cups cold cheeks, guides their lips together and smiles when Duck gasps into the kiss. Strong arms loop around him and god, and he feels safer and more loved than he’s felt since he was a kid.

When they part it’s only with enough space to speak.

“I love you too, Duck.”

Another kiss, longer and deeper than the Greenbriar river that runs in the distance. Thank goodness he doesn’t need to breathe. So why is he lightheaded?

He gasps, gulping air as Duck does the same.

“The fuck?” Duck touches his throat as confusion and adrenaline pound in Indrid’s chest.

“Oh my god.” He sets his right hand on his chest, his left hand on Duck’s.

Heartbeats, two of them, pulsing steadily under his palms.

“How?” Duck whispers.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know if others would see…”

Branches crack to their left.

“Oop, sorry fellas, didn’t mean to startle you. Just lookin for a nice place to eat lunch.”

“I think I speak for both of us when I say this is a wonderful spot. And that we were just leaving.”

“Yep, it’s all yours.” Duck is already pulling them towards the trail.

“Thanks! Y’all have a nice day.”

“I’m not sure I could have anything else.” Indrid kisses Duck’s warm cheek as they follow the signs for the campground ranger station.

“No fuckin kiddin.” Duck smiles, then laughs, and Indrid can’t help but laugh with him as a thousand new futures enter his mind and they hurry down the sunny path, their shadows chasing them all the way.

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #reader requests #promptober #duck x indrid

[taxfrauddotcom]

Viktor is such a funny fucking character.

Like imagine you've been bored and depressed with your life and career and then BOOM all of a sudden this super hot boy spends all night sexy dancing with you and then he invites you to visit him and his family and by the end of the night, you're head over heels in love and you think you and this boy have something very special going. But he leaves and you don't hear from him for like an entire year and you're like "oh okay then I guess that night wasn't as special for him as it was for me that sucks" BUT a year later a video of the hot boy skating one of your routines goes viral. And it's not just any routine, it's a routine about a man yearning for his gay lover and begging him to stay by his side. And you're like "ah! It's a sign! He does love me! Fuck it! Going ✈️ Japan" but then you get to Japan and tbqh the boy doesn't really seem all that excited to see you which is like. a bummer. And you're like "oh it's been a while maybe he's waiting for me to make a move" and so you try to make a move and pick up where you left off and HE LITERALLY RUNS AWAY so you cry yourself to sleep, laying on the floor in a strange country where you don't even speak the language. But! You refuse to give up! Maybe he's just shy? So you decide to teach him the routine that you specifically created based on the wild, sexy night you two spent together because he sent you a sign that he wanted you by skating to stammi vicino so maybe you just need to communicate to him in a way he'll understand? So you teach him the sexy routine where he plays the part of a temptress who rolls into town and seduces the playboy (you) before running away and breaking the playboy's heart. And you're like "yes surely this will get him to pick up where we left off". But he struggles with finding a sexual inspiration and so you're like "okay okay maybe he needs some time" and then FINALLY he says "ah! I get it! I know what Eros is to me!" and you're like "yes yes yes here it comes finally" and then he's like "Eros to me is a pork cutlet bowl!" A fucking pork cutlet bowl... Jesus Christ. So you decide to just spend all night drinking because fuck this.

Lmao what a loser. I love him

#viktor nikirofov #victuuri #vikturi #yoi #mine

[purplepoisonedsims]

“Hey, Mir, I’m back.”

“Hello, Jezebel. How was your night of sin?”

“Wild! I gotta tell you about it!”

“If you must.”

“So I’m at this rich bitch lounge, singing my heart out, when guess who I see?!”

“...Who?”

“Ishmael’s father! Like, I usually never see these guys after I’m done fucking them! I thought, what the hell, the guy should probably know he has a baby out there somewhere, you know? So I went up to him and was like, hey dude, remember me? I had your baby! Whack, right?

Turns out, his wife was sitting next to him! I thought she was just some rando. Well, naturally she was pissed as all hell. I can’t say I blame her, though.

She threw her drink in his face and chewed us both out! She was all like ‘oh you slut you ruined our family’ like, girl, hello? I didn’t know he was married! She ended up dragging him out of there by the ear, pretty funny.

Kind of a bummer that I never got to tell the guy how to get in contact with Ishmael, but to be honest I don’t think he’d be interested. Hey, I tried, right?”

“Bless, this story is not funny. The only ‘wild’ thing here is your disregard for the Lord! This is why He has cursed us so! If you weren’t breeding with these sinners, He would love us more! I’ll admit, I now see that He is upset with me and my failure as well, but-”

“Whoa, whoa, wait. Failure? What failure?”

“My moral failing of leaving my husband. I had assumed that, because he was a sinner from Hell, the Lord wouldn’t be mad, but He was! Oh, my poor baby was born tonight! I christened it Hellbound, because any child born on the Devil’s Day can go nowhere else!”

“...Holy shit, Mir. That’s a lot to unpack. Let’s start with the part where you think your baby is Satan’s child or whatever.”

“There’s nothing more to say. It was born on the day devoted to worshiping Satan, and because of it that child has no soul. I was given a monster.”

“...Maybe we should consider adoption. I know it’s really complicated, but-”

“Never! Blessing, children are gifts from the Lord! He has given Hellbound to me to test me, and to teach me where I’ve gone wrong. To give up that soulless thing is to give up my own soul! A son of the Devil is still a son, and it’s my duty as a woman and as its mother to raise and nurture it away from its sinful father and towards its Heavenly Father! This is my fate, Bless.”

“Look, I won’t make you, but that kid’s gonna have a fucked up time if his- is it a he? You keep saying ‘it’ but you called him ‘son’ so- look, whatever. That kid’s gonna be fucked if their mother hates them.”

“And your children will end up- end up like that without a father! It’s not fair that my criticisms of your parenting go ignored while your criticisms of my parenting must be obeyed! Besides, it won’t be any of your business much longer. Tomorrow, I will take my baby and go back to Stephen. I won’t let my child grow up without a father, even if Stephen is a murderer. I-”

“What the fuck, Mir?! Stephen’s a murderer?!”

“Yes, that’s why I ran. I caught him beheading a man in the woods. I don’t know if he knows, but-”

“Mir, wait, no, you can’t go back to him. That’s fucking- Christ, Mir, he’ll kill you both!”

“He’s my husband. I have no choice.”

“What about divorce?! Doesn’t the Bible let you get divorced if he’s a fucking murderer?!”

“No. I’m only allowed a divorce in the eyes of God if he is adulterous or dead. As long as he is faithful to me, I will be faithful to him, and we must live together as one flesh. I pray that God will protect me, and I have faith that once I’m doing the right thing then no harm will come to me.”

“Jesus Christ, Mir, that’s fucking stupid. He-”

“Blessings. I’m trying to stretch my patience, but it’s wearing thin. If you don’t stop using the Devil’s language, then I’ll get up and leave right now!”

“No, wait, I’m sorry. Don’t go. At least stay for tonight, please? We have to talk about this.”

“Very well. I’ll stay tonight. But as soon as dawn breaks, that baby and I will be gone.”

#sims 4 story #sims 4 simblr #simblr #ts4 story #miracle jones #tori myers #hank poole #linda poole #purplepoisonedsims

[ciggylungz]

Summer bummer- Chapter.3

word count- 1.9k

Summer bummer- pt.3

Pairing- Harry x reader

(a reality tv au)

  ______________________________________________________

The confessional room was hot when Y/n stepped in, she had a few things to get off her chest. Some personal feelings, the finger banging session with Harry from two nights ago and a phone call she had gotten that was really dampening her mood.

She closed the door and turned the camera on, sitting herself in front of the green screen taking a deep breath before starting. “So, these last few days have been kinda crazy…me and Harry have been getting closer and fooled around some. I feel a bit nervous because I think I might actually like him and I know with how dating goes in situations like this it can end horribly especially if he only sees me as a hookup. I also got a call from my sister and she was telling me how she went to my apartment and saw my ex had trashed it after finding out I’m on the show. He even stole my locket with a picture of me and my best friend in it which had nothing to do with him!...” she didn’t want to cry. The asshole didn’t deserve her tears, but it was a shitty feeling and he violated her home so she was really upset.

“It just…god it sucks. We’ve been here for 2 months so we only have one left, and part of me doesn’t want it to be over…I don’t want to have to fuckin’ deal with the shit back home and I wanna see Harry…but we don’t always get what we want I guess so I’m fucked I guess.”

She turned the camera off, exiting the room to make her way to the kitchen to get a snack before sulking outside to have a smoke and mull things over in her head, she couldn’t decide if she was happy or more anxious when she saw Harry sitting on the patio nursing his hangover cure beverage since he’d gone out the night before but Y/n was too upset to.

“Hey love” he settled into the outdoor sofa scooting to make room for the younger girl, patting the cushion for her to sit. “Look a bit down there girlfriend, penny for your thoughts?”

Y/n shook her head slightly lighting her cigarette, “don’t wanna be a Debby downer, seems like you already got a headache” Harry gave her a ‘tsk’ before scooting closer to her. “Nonsense, tell me. been fingers deep in you before, don’t gotta feel vulnerable talkin’ to me.” Y/n lightly smacked his shoulder looking at one of the cameras pointed at the pair getting a little pink tinge to her cheeks. “shush, fine…I’m sad. My sister called and told me my piece of shit ex broke into my apartment and trashed it since he found out I was here. He’s insane, he spray painted ‘whore’ and other shit all over the walls and stole some of my jewelry. And I’m just really conflicted, and I-“ she rubbed her eyes lightly “-I’m sad because we don’t have much time left here, and I like you and don’t want to go home and never see you again…”

Harry smiled at her, bringing her closer to him so her head rested on his chest while her body laid on the couch. “Hey, first and foremost I don’t plan to never see ya’ again. I like ya’ too. Second, want me to deal with that shit head? I’ll go back with you when filming wraps and I’ll beat his ass and help you clean everything up, yea?” she simply nodded and hugged herself closer to him. One of her worries now fading, but she still had a lot on her plate.

__

While the rest of the house was grooming themselves to go out to another club tonight, Y/n was just finishing her shower changing into some comfy clothes and toweled off her hair opting to stay home tonight not exactly in the party mood.

she had thought she was home alone, but Harry soon made his presence known by knocking on her bedroom door clad in some sweatpants but missing a shirt. “You didn’t go out with them?” Y/n questioned while sitting up in bed, letting Harry enter her shared room.

“Nah, decided to stay in with ya’. What kind of man would I be if I let you stay home all alone when you’re sad? Like you too much to do that poppet cmon scoot over.”

She complied, shuffling over to the right side of the twin sized mattress letting the tall man squeeze himself in her sheets. “C’mere give me a cuddle sweetheart.” His arms opened and his warm chest drew her in, her fingers tracing the butterfly tattoo on his upper stomach as they talked.

“Bout’ what you said earlier, how would you feel about goin’ out with me y/n? think we could give it a shot hmm?” He got exactly the response he hoped for, her head tilted up to look at him, happy eyes and a shy nod. “Yea! Really? You’re not pullin’ m’ leg right?” “course not, think I want ya’ to be my girl.”

Y/n was ecstatic, the sadness seeming to go into hiding for the time being while she kissed the man. Her fingers weaving into his hair as she let him drag her body on top of his, pulling her duvet over the two of them so the cameras didn’t get a proper eye full of their private moment. The most he was willing to ket those cameras pick up was the clicking noises of their kisses.

When Y/n pulled away from the kiss momentarily she used the time to make a request,

“Can you finally fuck me now? Please? I’ll be a good girl I promise” her words were whispered but they still had the same affect, a smirk growing on Harry’s face and a stirring of his cock in the sweats. “Yea? Want me to fuck you now that you’re my girl? You’re going to be good and take it all right?” Y/n nodded her head quickly while tugging her shirt off quickly tossing it over the bed, not caring about the fact she was basically about to have a sex tape from the cameras littered in the room about to capture her fucking Harry.

They were frantic, tired of waiting and so they made quick work of their clothes, Y/ now in only her panties and Harry in his now painfully tight boxer briefs, “Take me out pet, go ahead.” His voice was deep, gravelly, and his accent was thick as tar at this point, letting the younger get tug his cock from his underwear watching it spring to his stomach, and to say she was a bit shocked would fit her current expression. “I…I don’t know if I can take it all…why didn’t you tell me you were so big?” Harry only chuckled, wrapping his fist around himself and giving a few strong tugs to his cock, “didn’’t I tell ya’ the first day that if we had fucked you would know? Kinda hinted that I wasn’t small dove”

“jesus…biggest I had was 7 inches” Harry smirked at her bringing her face forward to kiss her again, “First time for everything, including taking your first 9 inch cock huh?” Harry wasn’t shy, he was quite sure of himself and happy with his package, and Y/n was too far gone to even think about backing out now, she didn’t want to. “Take your panties off, you got any condoms in here?” the girl nodded pointing to the night stand next to her bed while she dragged her underwear off her body leaving her completely bare under the blankets. Harry fished the rubber out and brought his hands back under the blankets to rip it open flipping so she was laying under him allowing her to put the condom on for him, smiling slightly watching her use both of her small hands to roll it down his cock. It was a snug fit, he decided next time he’d supply the condom so it fits a bit more comfortably but for now it would do.

Before he started Harry made sure the comforter was covering them as he judged the side of his tip between her folds smiling when he saw how huge the crown looked even before he entered her, yet he looked up when her small hand rested on his lower stomach, “Go slow at first please? It’s been a while and you’re really big.” Harry cooed slightly, nodding as he pushed his tip in slowly. He slowly got about 5 inches in before he felt her muscles tense, causing a great deal of resistance halting his actions noticing her pinched up a bit, “You alright baby?” “Y-yea, just burns a little from the stretch…” “it’s alright yea? Gotta relax so I don’t hurt you…there you go ah shit” he tried to keep his mumbling quiet while he got the majority of himself in her, the tightness almost painful yet he fucking loved it.

Soon enough they found themselves in a rhythm, his hips snapping into hers while she dug her heels into his bum while rolling her clit between her fingers in quick tight circles. Their moans weren’t so quiet anymore, but they didn’t care they felt too good to keep the noise minimal.

“feel’s good now huh? Tell me how I’m makin’ ya’ feel pet.” His breathing was rapid and labored while he tucked his face into her neck, Y/n let out another moan before replying “Good, so fuckin’ good. Feel full can feel you in my tummy…ah daddy.” She couldn’t help the dirty name slipping through her lips, her head was swimming and her body was vibrating. Her orgasm approaching sooner than later, and Harry couldn’t help but eat that shit up.

“Daddy huh? Fuck that’s hot, got daddies cock in ya’ don’t you doll?” Y/n nodded quickly her toes pointing as she came. She couldn’t hold it back anymore, she didn’t want to anyway. Her cunt clamped down on him making him choke on his moans while she had a rather intense orgasm, thanks to him.

“There you go, that’s a good girl…Daddies good girl cummin’ hard aren’t ya? Christ I’m gonna fuckin’ bust doll face.” Harry was in heaven, his balls pulling back into his body while he emptied himself into the condom going stiff while he finished. His muscles going to stone with the overwhelming pleasure causing Y/n to writhe beneath him.

Once he gained composure, he noticed Y/n’s droopy eyes and quivering body, pushing on his stomach slightly telling him ‘it’s too much’ finally taking a deep breath as he removed himself from inside her slipping the condom off and tying it before tossing it in the trash.

“Did a good job dove. Proud of ya’, took my whole cock.” The girl nodded, sleepy flutters of her lashes giving him the hint she was near falling asleep. “gonna be sore tomorrow aren’t i?” Harry chuckled a little tugging her into his side, “Probably, but don’t worry daddy will carry you around if ya need me too.”

 (I hate this chapter, I’m not proud of it. It’s somewhat of a filler chapter to give some body to the piece while setting some updates to help the story flow better after this chapter. They boned so be happy with that sluts. Love ya xx h)

#harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles concepy #harry styles blurb #harry styles

[callmehopeless]

its jarring to hear that you, the queen hope herself, dont feel like you’re in the “inside” the fandom. ive been struggling for years trying to make friends and be in the loop & have other blogs interacting with me but it’s been the most depressing and obsessive thing ive been doing. its heart breaking to see others interacting and laughing about stuff when you feel on the outside. thank you for opening up, you truly are one of the most magical & honest people ive ever met & i adore you 💛

Thank you so much Hunter, my darling love. <3

It’s something I see people posting memes and thoughts about all the fucking time. This community (and the larger Tumblr...and probably the larger world) is such a strange place to navigate in these days; we’re all suffering under the weight of a physical and mental isolation, even if it doesn’t “feel” it’s giving us an ass kicking. That displacement is something I’ve ALWAYS struggled with - literally always. I remember when I first joined the community on Tumblr and I was totally overwhelmed by feeling intrinsically outside, and just not knowing how to address it or who I could even address it with. I’d try messaging people to make friends but felt that I was always trying really hard to be liked and it’d come off as annoying (which it turns out...it did. That was a big bummer)

I felt more comfortable for a while, but I think the last year has been weirdly turbulent in this and other spaces, probably as a result of everything going on. I’ve always been a massive believer that if I feel something, other people are probably feeling it too - and I want to talk about those things, be open about them. Writing to me is a gift, and it’s something that I want to use in my life to help people know they’re not alone. All we have is that, in the end. If you understand someone, it’s really fucking hard to hate them

Truth is? I’m infinitely and catastrophically more scared of pretty much everyone on this platform than they realise I reckon. I am painfully afraid of everything, all the time. People seem to think because I’ve been doing this for a while and come off as pretty chill that I am not absolutely shitting bricks 24/7 whenever my Tumblr pings. The weird crux for me is I’m simultaneously desperate to communicate to people, I’m generally extroverted, and I’m absolutely enamoured with the idea of bonding with people - but I am a fucking wreck of pain and terror whenever I have to respond to anyone. Even people being nice, or kind, or generally sweet. I’m like JESUS CHRIST PEOPLE SPEAKING I WILL FUCK IT UP AHHHHHH

Long story short (or long): I’m afraid, too. I’m very afraid. Sometimes I’m angry because I’m afraid. This year, I’ve reflected that a lot of people have looked up to me, but in a way that’s put me on a podium, somehow. And I think that’s an isolating place to be, because in reality; I’m a scared-shitless-fucking-wreck-human-weirdling-trying-their-best-but-very-confused, and because of this, I think I feel very isolated. Even though we’re kind of...all feeling like it? Fuck, man. Life hard

Anyway: come say hello, I love friends, sorry I am petrified of you all, I love you all, I’m doing my best but I am a literal mess. Nice to meet you all!

#I RANTED WHOOPS #wholesome rant #update #seweratwitch #Mail

[alanandamber]

Dearest Amber,

It’s tough writing to you from our encampment in the mountains. Pens are hard to come by, and the officer in charge says that love is a weakness. I’m haunted by the thoughts of missing Charlotte’s first violin recital at the academy, but I will bring her back a token from the places I’ve visited. Will you still love me, when I return with one arm?

I’m writing here because I don’t really have anywhere else to write, and because I have nobody else to talk to about this. There are a lot of struggles with my marriage, but I think right now the tough one is that I’ve focused on my career for the last 6 years, since I had already kind of given up on my own happiness to try and keep some happiness for the people around me. At the end of the day what that means is my friendships from before have atrophied and there isn’t much of a support system for me to lean on. On top of that, I was there when the two people she got the most support from died...knowing she’s having an even harder time than I am, with nobody to talk to or get support from, that’s really hard for me. It isn’t hard because I’m unsure, it’s hard because I’m an empath and I’m watching someone else suffer in their own pain with nowhere to go and I’ve always been the place to go.

It’s also important for me to remember that this hasn’t made me a saint. Let’s face it, if I was unhappy for that long so was she, and by letting things go just to be her support system and friend, I hurt her too and it makes me a coward.

It’s also tough because I don’t know what’s next, for either of us. I’m a logical person and I feel most comfortable with a little bit of routine and structure, or when I’m reasonably comfortable that the future has a certain predictability. For me right now, I’ve lost predictability and that’s where my anxiety usually gets a good hold.

I’m still trying to get the right words in the right order to get across to you what I tried to say out loud yesterday about you being special, and about you deserving to know that for someone, the idea of not having you in their life is awful. I also talked about my gut and my instinct - that sounded arrogant. I’m not always right, nobody is. Some of these things will sound either like I’m self conscious or not confident, and some of them will sound like I’m being materialistic or vain, but I don’t mean them that way.

1. You’re beautiful. That’s a simple phrase but one I can’t be clear enough about. I mean it in two distinct ways and I’m going to try and say them here, I’m better with writing than I am at saying things out loud. I’ll start out with physical beauty - it floors me. I’m not taking about edited pictures and your naked body, although 🤤. I’m talking about your basic physical presence. When you’re talking to me, when you’re just being you, with no prep or extra effort to be the hottest or sexiest you can be in a moment. It’s actually overwhelmingly beautiful. I’ve always been a little shy, and a little quiet. If I saw you on the street my jaw would drop and never in a million years would I have the confidence to approach you. No way. That girl is in another league. I don’t even know if she’s real. I don’t mean that to be self conscious. I really don’t. Although I do think it’s important for you to remember I’ve been in a long term relationship and marriage for 5 years and have felt absolutely zero need to have confidence or be sexually attractive because...well that part of me hasn’t had a place here and I’m probably going to need work to get it back. That’s not sexy at all. I don’t want you to think I’m a project.

Then, it really gets me. Your beauty barely even starts with the physical aspect. Your mind - Jesus Christ your mind. You are brilliant, and you are adventurous, and you are curious, and you are hilarious. You’re...you. Wow...are you ever. Your mind is easily the most gorgeous thing about you, which is saying a lot because 🤤😍. You are out of my league, I can learn from you, and experience with you, and grow. Wow. My command of the English language is also totally inadequate in comparison. I’m going to have to make up for it in other ways.

2. My curiosity about you never stops. It’s all I think about. In a way it’s such a bummer to have not known you even in chaotic times because it’s part of your story and what makes you who you are. I have no interest in only knowing you as you are now after a pivotal point in your life. On top of all the stress in my house right now and all the uncertainty and negativity, I’m sitting here wondering what you are like I’m your calm moments alone, or when you feel proud. I wonder what struggles you have that you don’t verbalize, or when you cry, and what do you cry about? Or do you? I wonder abo that sensitive side you mentioned that you don’t really show, and what that part of you is all about. But you know what, you’re not “exotic”. I’ve been thinking about this and I want you to know it - I think the difference between what I feel and being curious about something new and exotic is the difference between infatuation, and following your heart. You are not perfect. You never claimed to be and neither did I. I am not putting you on a pedestal. I am not worshipping you and telling you that you are never going to stumble. You’re not a research project that I can “complete”. After every curiosity about you, there’s another. It’s not about infatuation and solving the puzzle of the perfect woman, it’s about knowing all of you and giving you the safety and love you deserve from a man who feels like this about you, and hopefully if I play my cards right, being the right recipe for you that gives you all the same feelings. I’m not physically perfect by any means. I’m not sure what you meant about “something small” can change the vibe but I’m gonna throw it right out there, I’m in no way perfect. I grew up poor as hell and not in a super functional family. I always wanted straighter teeth and my mom never really took my to the dentist. I’ll always be self conscious about that. I don’t want your reassurance, gorgeous, I want your heart, and I’m playing for keeps but I want the real thing.

3. I’ve NEVER wanted children, or any of that. I never even really saw myself getting married - this current situation was more of a alignment of a string of events than a fulfillment of a path I wanted. And yet, I’m sitting here day dreaming about all of it with a woman I’ve never even touched. I’m thinking about your future and our future and what it will look like, where it will be, what struggles we may have to face together, and what triumphs there might be. I’m thinking about your next step and how I never want to put you in a place where you feel you have to do work you don’t want to just to pay the rent. I’m thinking about you, and me, and growing old and having fun. Is it science or biology? I don’t fucking know, love. I may never.

You’re not off the hook for answering questions.

[stevesharrlngtons]

Hiiiii💕 May I request prompts 69 and 23 with Steve?? I’m glad you’re writing for stranger things again btw💝

i just really miss talking to you

i hate when people just copy a scene word for word in fanfic. while this is inspired by a scene in st3, it is not the same. but beware if you haven’t finished, mild spoilers!

the fear and adrenaline in your system had been working in such high doses, the sobering reality and fatigue was finally setting in. after you had been tied to an unconscious steve harrington and cried form sheer overwhelmed panic, you had nothing left to give. all you could think about was your impending death and how sad your mother was going to be. you had stopped trying to wake up steve hours ago (or minutes? you’d lost all semblance of time).

you almost envied him, you wanted to be in a sea of blackness right now too.

at least then you would have less to worry about. for yourself, for dustin, for erica, for the town, for el, for steve. god, you were terrified for him. 

you thought of everything you wished you would have said, things you should have said, things you wish you could take back. you thought about waking up with him, the sun beaming through his bedroom window and baking you both beneath the blankets. you thought about the wheezing laugh he’d give you when he really loved one of your jokes. you thought about the instant safe relief he gave you whenever you were wrapped in his arms.

you thought of the ways his lips tasted (peppermint), the way he smelled (evergreen trees and lavender), the way his hands felt on your skin (perfect).

and you thought of all the fights. the hasty insults and unforgettable jabs. the fear and the pressure. the nightmares and the trauma that lived beneath your skin after all the horrific monsters you both had faced… how it had all been too much.

soon, steve’s incoherent gurgling broke you from your memories.

“steve? hey, can you hear me?” you asked, frightened.

“think so.” he slurred and you slumped your shoulders in relief.

“jesus christ, you scared me! don’t do that to me again, harrington.”

“get the shit beat out of by dolph lundgren? ok, yeah, will do.”

you chuckled. you needed to laugh, and you felt steve knew that.

“well i hope drago knocked loose an idea on how the hell we can escape this.”

“not seemin’ like it, no. you can headbutt me if you want? maybe i just need one more good hit to get the juices flowing.” steve prompted.

again, you laughed.

“i’ll save that for our last ditch effort.”

“we aren’t there yet?” steve turned his head to the side. out of your periphery, you saw just how bad his wounds we’re looking.

“not to alarm you or anything, but you look like a pollock painting.”

you felt steve’s shoulders rumble with laughter, “wow, thanks, (y/n/n). not alarming at all.”

“i’m sorry!” you tried to hold back your giggles, “i’ve lost all semblance of a filter. it just came out.”

“ok then, tell me one thing.”

“what?”

“how’s my hair?”

you both broke out in laughter. it felt nice, cathartic.

when you both died down and the harsh reality came back, you sagged your head backwards onto steve’s shoulder and watched the lights flicker.

“how do we keep ending up like this?” steve asked, his voice bleak.

“fighting demogorgons, demodogs, fucking evil russians? when is this gonna stop?”

“hopefully soon. because we make it out of this and win, or they come back in here and paint the walls with our brains. either way…” you watched the small black dot of a fly trapped in the light fight to escape.

“forgot how blunt you can be.”

“it can be helpful if you remember correctly. it’s helped the last two times we’ve done this.”

“guess you’re right. think i woulda died if you weren’t there to think things through.” steve remincined.

“yeah?”

“yeah, god yes. how i have continued livin’ at all without you, (y/n/n) is a fuckin’ miracle.”

“day to day you get by just fine. special live or death situations- yeah you need me.” you snicked.

“day to day… m’not fine. i still need you.” came steve’s crestfallen reply after a beat of pause.

“that russian sure beat some bullshit into your head, huh?” you deflected with a breathy laugh.

“don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“pretend that i’m only saying this because i just got the shit beaten out of me. broken or fixed, i’ll always mean it.”

with your head still resting against his shoulder and still watching the fly become more and more desperate, tears filmed your eyes.

“i just… fuck, i just really miss talking to you. i miss being with you. being around you. wanna know how i know that? because somehow going through this literal hell we’ve been through today, it’s still the happiest i’ve been in months. because at least i’ve been with you. if we’re gonna die, it’s… well it’s gonna be a bummer. but hey? i get to die with you. so maybe it’s not all bad.”

you sniffled pathetically and let out a shaky breath.

“yeah, maybe it’s not all bad.” you both macably laughed.

because he was right. being with steve, even in times when you were staring death in the face were still better than being without him. so, you decided to work harder.

you brought your head up, “alright, harrington, enough talk. we’re getting out of here.”

“that’s ma’girl!” steve cheered, still with a slight slur.

you rapidly looked around, assessing anything in the holding room that could be used to cut your binds. the sterile steele held mostly nothing of use, until you saw them. a pair of gleaming silver scissors a few yards away.

“bingo.” you grinned.

“there,” you gestured with your chin to the scissors for steve to see, “we’re gonna hop slowly over there and cut ourselves out.”

“you think we can?”

“i said it didn’t i?” you snarked playfully.

steve snickered, “then i trust ya, (y/l/n).”

“on three.”

“ok, ok, gotcha. got it.” steve nodded.

you counted, you hopped. it worked.

again. again. again. again.

until, you fucking made it.

“fuck yeah! shit yeah, we are spies man! totally spies! we’re winning!” steve exclaimed gleefully.

you wanted to tell him to calm down, but you didn’t. you just grinned and worked on knocking the scissors from the table into your lap. and after much trial and error and many held breathes on both yours and steve’s part, you had them.

you had the fucking scissors and your wrist binds were off. then your forearms, then your ankles. then steve’s wrists, his arms and legs.

once he was stood and regained his bearings, you both couldn’t held but manically grin at each other, utterly surprised that your little plan had worked.

“we are soo spies.” you said giddily.

“hell yes we are!” steve cheered, bringing you into his arms.

and you felt safe, like you never left them.

“we’re gonna help get, gonna save the world.” steve said into your sweat and blood matted hair, not caring about that for a second.

“i wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.” you replied, burrowing deeper into his chest.

“yeah?” the optimistic twinge to his voice made your heart skip.

pulling away just enough to meet his gaze, you leaned up to place a light kiss to steve’s busted lips. not caring they were salty and metallic.

“yeah.”

“(y/n), i just gotta say, before anything else happens, because the last week has been so weird and i just… i don’t know when we’re gonna get a moment like this again. (y/n/n) i still lov-”

“wait, agent harrington.” you cut him off, “world first, confessions second.”

you knew he’d have time to tell you later. either way, it didn’t matter. you knew. and you did too

#hope you enjoyed! #also only one prompt at a time so ill choose if you send me two #but please dont send me two #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagines

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 5 ~Cours de Français~

Why is Jamie staring at my mouth like that?  

He reminded Claire of a ravenous lion looking at his first meal in days, and herself as the sacrificial lamb waiting to be gobbled. She wondered if he could hear the snap and crackle in her chest and the pop of her exploding ovaries. Watching Jamie's head lowered closer to her face, his gaze still centred on her lips, Claire's heart gave a little kick. A maelstrom of mixed emotions battled its way to the surface, the echo of their childhood seemingly incongruous to what was transpiring. Summoning the memory of the sweet boy she once knew was in vain, and instead, reality had put in its place a man she barely recognised; rugged, masculine, and oh so seductive.

"I'll be damned if I allowed Frank to be yer first kiss," Jamie muttered, before grazing his tongue between her lips, forever, irrevocably blurring the lines of their relationship. 

Jesus H.Roosevelt Christ!   She refused to close her eyes, watching in fascination as he closed his. It was a mistake when her world spun upside down, and her equilibrium went off-kilter, making Jamie's face blur into two, before fusing back together.  Oh Lord ! She was quite sure his heavy breathing had left condensation in her contact lenses or perhaps it had slid to the back of her eyeballs, causing the hazy focus.

He paused for a heartbeat, waiting for her to pull away. And when she didn't, with one large hand at her waist and the other cradling the back of her head, he drew her to him, his tongue gently urging her mouth to part before brushing his across hers in an achingly slow, feather-like sweep. Jamie tasted her the way he ate when he took a bite of the first French dessert he ever made, Coeur à la Crème ; a leisurely, savouring mouthful followed by a rapturous groan.

Hot! Hot! Hot!  His work-roughened fingers were creating tiny sparks of fireworks on her skin as images began to form in her head. Visions of daffodils blooming in fast forward motion, choir boys at the village church singing Hallelujah  as the organ struck a high note and fire hydrants erupting aerated water in the air, were floating in her mind. This was better than the chick flicks she used to watch, where "boy kisses girl" scenes had made her sigh dreamily.

Oh, dear God, what the hell is happening!  First, Frank wanted to kiss her after their coffee date earlier, and now Jamie was enlightening her in the art of French kissing. 

Shut up, Beauchamp! You've always wanted this- two former popular blokes from your school want you... so what are you complaining about? 

That was back in school. And Jamie is my brother!

Where does that say he's your brother?

There's an unwritten rule...

Yeah, unwritten rule my arse! It's one that you made up. Just enjoy the kiss!

Claire wanted to act sophisticated, cool and dispassionate, unlike the bumbling, awkward geek she was often referred to when she was in school. Closing her eyes for the first time, she tried to relax in Jamie's arms, but it was proving to be a difficult feat when he was making all sorts of sounds at the back of his throat. She opened her mouth more, shyly kissing him back and to her surprise, Jamie's chest heaved, and his body trembled.  He must have liked that!  Feeling emboldened, Claire mimicked his movements, gliding her tongue over his, as her hands clutched at his shoulders and fingers dug into his muscles. Her audacity made Jame pull her harder against him, whooshing the breath out of her lungs. Her heart was pounding like mad as blood rushed through her ears, her legs turning into the consistency of Jamie's Sherry trifle when not fully set.

With Claire's response, Jamie's kiss became more demanding, as he slid his fingers through her hair, angling her head so he could run his tongue along her jawline. "Ye want me to stop, Sassenach?" he gritted his voice sounding like as though he'd been a month without a drink.

No don't stop!  Claire could only shake her head. Jamie walked her backward until her back met the wall, shifting her awareness to his taut, solid muscles and arousal. She nearly giggled as his hard, giant appendage pressed against her belly, reminding her of Jenny's wooden rolling pin.  Oh, sweet Lord! Stop thinking and keep up! Stop contemplating about his size, or all the practising it took to hone that perfect kiss or what the sounds behind his throat meant.

She was kissing back and shamelessly enjoying it, but how had she gotten here and why is Jamie kissing her? She hadn't expected to be kissed today, but here we are - first Frank making a move and now Jamie. Was it written on her forehead,  "wants to be kissed" ? So many questions but they were all being swallowed up by riots of sensations that was alien to her. Not that she was totally naive - definitely not! Not after being introduced to Carter, Geillis' vibrator and soft porn, once again thanks to Geillis' collection from her internet browser's bookmarks. 

Claire understood quite well the mechanics of kissing and what it can lead up to, but objectivity had no place in the present when her blood felt like bubbling sugar syrup. Maybe it had something to do with how Jamie looked at her, his eyes a peculiar hue of dark and intensity, and his jaws clenched and taut as a bowstring. How many girls had he looked at the way he was looking at her? Suddenly, she felt a pang of jealousy hit her with full blow in the abdomen and hated the thought of him looking at someone else like that, now that she had been on the receiving end.  For crying out loud, Beauchamp, get a grip!

"Claire are you up there?"  Bloody fucking hell, speaking of rolling pins, it's Jenny! When did she come home?

Their movements stilled, their lips parted as the spell cast between them broke. 

"Coming!" Claire called out without taking her eyes off Jamie. She was surprised to discover Jamie's breath was laboured and harsh as hers; moreover, she was able to find her voice after the intensity of their kiss.  Well, today was undoubtedly full of surprises. Whatever next?

"It's Frank! He says you dropped your phone in the parking lot!" Jenny shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Oh, bummer... just what I needed!  "Thanks, Jenny, will be there in a sec," she replied, hoping she sounded steadier than she felt. Her nerve endings still tingled, and there was a throbbing pulsing between her thighs. Claire needed to put a name to what she was feeling, but it can wait...Frank was downstairs.

Not trusting herself to speak, she made a move towards the door, but Jamie stopped her, grabbing her elbow as he pulled her to him once more for a brief, yet lingering kiss. When he finally released her, he stroked her cheeks. "Remember this when you talk to Frank," he murmured, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Oh, sweet Lord!  Without saying a word, she staggered back, slamming her shoulders on the edge of the door frame before shuffling away.

..........

Frank was stood in the main doorway looking out, hands stuffed in the pocket of his jacket. He spun around as soon as he heard Claire approach.  How rude of Jenny not to let him in! 

"Hello, love, you dropped this as you got into the car," he said, waving her iPhone. "You reversed so quick, you probably didn't hear me call after you."

Claire knew well why she was trying to make a fast get-away from Frank earlier. He had wanted to kiss her, and she had retreated hastily in panic. Before she could reply, she heard Jamie coming down the stairs.  Oh shite, I'm in a pickle!   "Thanks for stopping by," was all she could say, trying to sound calm as she took her phone back from Frank.

"Are you alright? Your face looks a bit flush. I hope you're not coming down with something." Frank's one hand reached out to touch her forehead as a look of concern crossed his face. 

"No...I'm alright. No, actually, I have this blasted headache. Maybe I just need to lie down," Claire explained, one hand reaching out to touch her head for emphasis. She wasn't fibbing this time as she felt Jamie stand behind her, one arm resting on the door above her head.

"Hey, Jamie...I just stopped by to drop Claire's phone."

"How are ye, pal, ages since I've seen ye...we ought to go for a couple of pints and catch up one of these days before the hotel opens," Jamie greeted his friend, his voice sounding absurdly normal, if not a bit too cheerful as if the kiss never happened. Looking down at the top of Claire's head, he smiled. "Claire's headache must be from the rigorous French lessons I've been giving her."

Claire choked on the air she inhaled, her face reddening over again.

"French lessons?" Frank's brow furrowed watching Claire fail miserably in suppressing a cough. He reached out to thump her on the back, but Jaime's hand got there first, massaging the area between her shoulder blades. "Well, Jamie's the man for anything French. He worked there for many years...blimey Claire, get yourself some hot toddy and go to bed..."

"No, really...I'm alright," she gasped, blinking away her watery eyes.  Bloody hell Jamie!  "But I think I will lie down before going out tonight..." Claire couldn't stand there any longer and have a normal conversation with Jamie and Frank. She knew her face was like an open book, and any second now, she will reveal what just ensued upstairs. What she needed was a few moments to herself to gather her thoughts.

"French lessons?" Jenny chimed in as she came out of the dining room and walked towards them with a box of empty bottles to be recycled. She placed them on the floor by the entrance, before straightening up. "Jamie, lad...I could do with some French lessons...maybe I'd join Claire during one of yer sessions."

This time it was Jamie's turn to choke, and this time it was Claire's turn to slap him on the back.

Taking it as her cue to leave and head for the safety of her bedroom, Claire gave Frank a quick peck on the cheek. "Right I'm off for a nap. See you, Saturday!" She didn't wait for a reply and hurried up the stairs. Once in her room, she locked the door, replaying Jamie's kiss over and over in her head, her date on Saturday already totally forgotten.

..........

Jamie looked at his watch...still ample of time to chop more woods before dinner in the Italian restaurant. He flipped off the split wood he was chopping on a tree stump and placed a new block. There were enough firewoods for the coming winter, but he needed to exorcise all the pent up energy that had accumulated after kissing Claire. Using a heavy sharp tool while being so epically predisposed to having a hard-on, coupled with the fast diminishing daylight, is quite a dangerous thing, and may result in an injury. 

That possibility should have been enough to ease the pressure in his cock, but after that kiss, he knew there was no relief. Every time he allowed his mind to wander, it always returned to Claire. Sure, he was in love with her and always had been, but this is now a totally different ballgame. He was no longer a boy, and it was no longer enough just to hold her hand and be content to have her by his side. He wanted more, but there was Frank too. He surmised Claire was a virgin after that little detail of not having been kissed  slipped out. The thought of Frank taking her innocence made his stomach churn. They might be good friends, but he'd been an utter idiot back in their school days, and Claire could never fault him.

Years of self-imposed restraint, it all came to a tipping point when he walked in on Geillis and Claire about to kiss. Two women kissing each other should have been a sensual experience to watch. Instead, it made him feel as though his skin was too tight like he was on the verge of combusting. The idea of anyone touching Claire, man or woman, especially Frank, didn't sit well with him. He didn't want anyone else to lay a finger on her. Except for him.

On the other hand, the idea seemed so preposterous as she considered him as her brother.   Surely not, after that kiss?  Back in their school days, no one even gave her a second look nor noticed her more exceptional qualities. It had been him who appreciated her adorable and funny side. It had been him who was there when she needed someone most. Generous to a fault, and despite disappointments in her school life, Claire always had a smile for everyone. Except, the kids in school chose to ignore her. It was a good thing there was Willie and him watching over; otherwise, she would have been bullied out of Scotland. Now that she was back for good, everyone was noticing.  Oh hell yes, they are noticing alright...damn them all!  He knew because he overheard people talking about her at the construction site in their hotel. She was no longer the awkward orphaned child. They mentioned her now by her name...instead of referring to her as the Fraser foster kid. Now she was the girl next door who had decided to fulfil every man's naughty fantasy, and all Claire ever did to achieve that effect was to grow up nicely. Not even Frank was immune to her charms who tend to gravitate more towards blonde women, and now he had his eyes on her too.  Damn ye, Frank!

And there was the kiss. Jamie had kissed girls before, and he knew there was nothing sisterly the way Claire had responded to him. She was hesitant initially, quite reasonably as he had taken her by surprise. In fact, he had taken himself by surprise. It was never his intention to kiss, but damn, the sight of her lips parted, and eyes closed waiting for Geillis, did it for him. When Claire responded to his kisses, there was this urgency crowding him. To take as much as he could and memorised her taste. Never before had anyone kissed like her, honest and unrestrained and with so much trust. No way was he allowing Frank to get a taste of that, not if he could help it!

Jamie knew if he was to pursue the idea of being with Claire, he needed to talk to her first and then his family after. He'd watched her for far too long looked at another boy with lovestruck eyes. Although Jamie was lusting after her, all he could think of right now was how much he wanted her heart more than anything. Jamie needed to know if it's still Frank she wanted after all these years. Until he knows, he needed to keep his hands away from her or someone could get badly hurt.

#melodyheart #forgetmenot #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

[clemanime]

Buck

A/N: Soooo... here I am... back and ready to give you everything you want. I will try my best to update stuff. Also I’m coming out with some series cause why the fuck not? Hope you ready.

Warning: Smut boom

Bucky runs into an old friend he met on the run and they… catch up

Boom

An explosion sounded down the road. She shot up from her desk, rushing towards the fire alarm and pulling it. “Everybody out!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. “Don’t panic! Don’t trample people! Be safe and get out!” She continued.

Another explosion went off, shaking the place as fire rushed through the office. She held her hands up, forming a wall of energy to stop the flames. “Get out!” She yelled. She kept the fire at bay as she rushed down the stairs. The building would have tumbled if she wasn’t using her powers. When people made it safely out she ran out quickly. She got everyone across the street and away from the crumbling building. There was another explosion and she put her hands up, keeping it contained so that it didn’t harm anyone else. When it died down she put her hands down, huffing. That took a lot out of her.

On the rooftop of the nearest building there were three men standing watching her. “Take her now while she’s weak.” The one standing in the middle said. “Be careful. She still has power left.”

     “Yes sir.” The ones on the ground said in unison.

Back on the ground four men moved towards the crowd of people watching as the police and firefighters arrive. They each separated, making sure to stay within the crowd and stay hidden.

She stood in the road, waving down the officers. One of the men rushed from the crowd towards her, pulling gun and pointing it at her. He shot and she put her hands up, forming a forcefield around herself as more shots rang out. Each of the men reloaded at different times, alternating between her and the police officers that were on the scene.

     “Take her now!” Their boss yelled into the intercoms.

One of the men walked towards her, holding up a different gun as he aimed it at her. She kept her shield up, feeling safer. But the ammunition was different, a recreated bullet. He pulled the trigger and it penetrated her field, shattering it and hitting her hip. She gasped, letting out a scream of pain.

     “Grab her and get out of there! The A-” Static

The men on the ground looked up at the building, not being able to see them from their spot. “Sir?” No response. “Sir?”

     “I’ll give you the option of walking away. Walk away and leave the woman. Or stay and see what happens.” A voice said behind him.

A taller gentleman stood behind the man. He wore a black long sleeve with one of the sleeves missing so that his metal arm could move around freely. He wore black cargo pants and laced up combat boots. He glared at the man, punching him with his metallic arm and sending him back.

The other men sprung into action, going to reload their weapons but she held her hand out, breaking them apart. She groaned, shaking her head and looked at Bucky as he engaged in battle.

As they fought another man rushing up to her. “Don’t worry Miss.” He said as he picked her up. He has dirty blonde hair and a full beard. She kept her eyes on Bucky, hoping that he would be alright.

     “You’re just going to leave him there?” She asked, looking at Bucky as he managed to fend off the three men he was fighting.

     “I think he’ll be able to handle himself.” Steve smirked. He carried her to a truck, placing her in the back seat and closing the door. She hadn’t noticed the person in the driver seat. A random man in a nice suit. He started driving, the ride silent.

Bucky was struggling, his head pounding from his hangover. One of the men managed to get the jump on him, wrapping his arm around his neck and squeezing. “Need help?” Steve asked as he walked up towards them.

     “What do you think!?” Bucky yelled as he struggled. He flipped the guy off of his back and into the guy rushing him. There were only two left, he should be able to take them out easily. Steve walked towards him with a smirk, taking the somewhat smaller one and headbutting him. He looked at his friend and smirked, crossing his arms.

Bucky managed to get him on the ground, pinning him and pulling his knife out. He twirled it in his hand before pressing it against his neck. “Start talking.” He stated.

She laid in the bed, staring at the ceiling. She sighed, shaking her head and holding her hands up. She tried to conjure a small sphere but got nothing. She sat up, wincing but shaking it off and concentrated. “Come on...” She sighed. “Come on.” She got nothing. She got up, walking over towards the small dresser with pain medication on it and tried to lift it with her energy.

     “What are you doing?” She jumped, bumping into it and letting out a pained holler. “Jesus Christ!” Bucky rushed towards her, grabbing her arms. “What the Hell?” Bucky wore a black t-shirt and a pair of cargo pants, still wearing his combat boots.

     “You can’t just pop up out of no where.” She said quickly. “I was trying to use my powers.” She blinked for a moment, clearing her throat and looking down as she crossed her arms. “I didn’t expect you to actually show up today.”

     “You should be resting.” He stated quickly. “Lay down.”

     “Buck.” She sighed as she shook her head. “I can’t be here. You know that.”

     “Just stay for a little. At least until you're healed.” Bucky crossed his arms as he stared at her then motioned towards the bed. “I’ll handcuff you if I have to.”

     “It’s not like you haven’t done it before.” She sat on the bed. She was referring to the night that he handcuffed her to his bed because she wouldn’t take the night off after being beaten up by a group of men. She wanted to go back out and find them but he wouldn’t let her. “I don’t get it.” She held her hand up, trying to get pain meds float to her but nothing happening. She gave up and shook her head.

     “Did they get the bullet out?” Bucky sat next to her, arms crossed, muscles flexed.

     “Yeah.” She nodded, laying back. “It hurt like Hell.”

     “That’s usually what happens when you get shot.” He smirked. “So these guys that you told me about that time... they were after you again.”

     “Seems like it.” Bucky nodded, looking over her. “I don’t get it through. Why can’t I use my powers? It was the first time my shield was broken Buck.”

     “The bullet they took out of you. The guys after you made it so that they would be able to use it on you.” He explained, repeating what he was told. “Apparently there was a lot of trial and error when making those bullets.”

     “Trial and error.” She repeated. There was a silence between them as she let the information sink in. “So I won’t be able to get my powers back.” She sat up, looking at him.

     “I don’t know.” He crossed his arms as he looked back at her. “Banner should be able to tell you later I guess.”

     “Well... that’s a bummer.” She put her face in her hands. “I didn’t rely on my powers that much but it feels shitty knowing that I won’t be able to use them when the time comes.”

     “I get it.” He nodded. “Maybe you should leave it to the professionals though.” He continued. “I don’t need you getting hurt because you think you’re a hero.”

     “Wow.” She scoffed, standing up. “I’m doing more than you guys. Showing up when there’s a body count and taking out the bad guys.” She crossed her arms as she stood in front of him. “I’m tired of you Barnes! You’ve never had faith in me! It’s always ‘let the professionals handle it’. ‘Maybe you should rest.’ ‘Don’t go back out there.’” She rolled her eyes, stepping closer to him. “I chose not to be an Avenger because I don’t want to be tied down to a team that shows up late. A team that shows up after people die or get hurt.”

Bucky stared up at her, taking in her words. But he didn’t speak. “We’re doing more than you think.” He mumbled. “We brought everyone back. Stopped Thanos. We did a lot to save the world.”

     “I know. I was there.” She huffed.

     “You don’t have to join us. Just... don’t do anything crazy.” He stood up, pulling her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his waist, closing her eyes and taking him in. “I don’t want you getting hurt anymore.”

     “I’m always going to get hurt. I’m a moving target you know.” She let him go, looking up at him and grabbing his metal hand. “Just like you were.” He hummed in response. She moved around him so she could leave but Bucky stopped her, grabbing her hand and pulling her back against his body. “Buck...” She shook her head. “Remember what happened last time?”

     “I thought it was pretty exciting.” He chuckled as he cupped her cheek.

     “Nearly breaking your new arm was exciting to you?” She questioned as his hand slowly moved down her back. She shivered, letting out a shaky breath. She closed her eyes, gripping his shirt as she shook her head. “Buck...” She looked up at him, moving her hands so that they were on his neck. She pulled him down, kissing his lips.

Bucky picks her up, sitting her on the dresser as he tugged at her clothes. Her tattered clothes were now torn and on the floor, her body covered with his as he pulled his shirt off. He adjusted her hips, playing her clit and pulling silent moans from her lips. She looked into his blue eyes, staring up at him as she felt her climax slowly building. “B-Buck.” She shook slightly.

     “I know Doll.” He smirked as he pushed his fingers inside of her. She mewled, opening her legs wider as his warm fingers expertly worked her closer to her climax. She bit his shoulder to keep from screaming as her body shook violently with her peak.

Her body went limp and she sighed, looking at him as she licked her lips. Bucky made work of his pants but a knock on the door stopped him. “What is it?” She asked, keeping Bucky in front of her in case the person walked in.

     “It’s Banner. I wanted to talk to you about your blood work.” Bruce said through the door.

She pouted, wanting to continue but ultimately sighing. “You gonna move?” She whispered but he didn’t budge. “Buck...” She leaned her head to the side but he cupped her cheek with a smirk. “Bucky...” She bit her bottom lip. He undid his pants, pulling his member out. “James I need to talk to Banner.”

     “Then talk.” He smirked. She couldn’t find a hint of joking in his eyes, the head of his cock pressed against her entrance.

     “Uh.. go ahead.” She said to Banner.

     “You want me to tell you through the door?” He questioned.

     “Yeah.” She bit her bottom lip as Buck slowly pushed into her, staring into her eyes. She dug her nails into his shoulders, shaking her head as she tried to keep her moans in.

     “Alright.” Bruce spoke. “Well it looks like you’ve still got your powers. But they’re weak right now because of the bullet.” Bucky thrust his hips at a quick place, pulling a yelp from her as she bit him. “Are you alright?”

     “Y-yeah.” She said quickly. “I’m o-okay.” She looked at Bucky, narrowing her eyes only to close them when he continued to thrust his hips.

     “You’ll get your powers back eventually. When? I’m not sure.”

Bucky pushed her legs farther apart, hitting deep inside of her and causing her to gasp. “I-Is that all!?” She questioned as her hands moved to Bucky’s waist.

     “That’s pretty much it.” Bruce confirmed. “If you need anything just let us know.”

Bucky hit her sweet spot, pulling loud pleasured moans from her. “I noticed you got more excited when you were talking to him.” He held her ankles, adjusting her so that her feet were on the dresser as he pounded into her. “You like nearly being caught?” She felt the bandage shift and a dull pain coursing through her.

     “Fuck... Bucky.” She felt her climax building as she closed her eyes, staring at him as her body quaked. She shook violently, her body leaning forward as she clung to him. Bucky pulled out of her, his seed spilling on her heat as the head of his member rubbed against her heat as they both road out their highs. “Nice.” She smirked. Bucky grabbed part of her torn clothes, cleaning her up.

Bucky picked her up, laying her on the bed and kissing the top of her head. He covered her up. “I’ll get you some clothes.” He put his shirt back on and reached for the door but it was slammed shut. He looked back at her with a smirk. “Looks like you got your groove back.” He smirked.

     “I did.” She nodded. “And I’m all healed up so come here.” She sat up, beckoning for him to get closer to her as she licked her lips. “Come on James.” She taunted. Bucky smirked, stripping himself of his clothes as he sauntered over to her.

#smut #bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #masterlist #main masterlist