welcome to my galaxy. nothing is limited here from characters to scenarios. I'm probably going to be writing about random characters and random scenarios anyways so don't be scared to suggest all kinds of stuff!
There are BOUNDARIES !!!
- I will not write about specific fetishes cause some fetishes out there are crazy.
- I will not tolerate weird behavior towards my writing, my supporters or myself
- no sexualization of minors please. all writing about minors will be aged up or pure
- dms are welcome just, again, be normal cause tumblr is a weird ass place with weird ass people
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Breathe through the fear, walk through the fire...
heyyy, this is my first story post on this account. Super excited and stuff I’m just sick right so mind me if the vibe feels off. I’m better than this I swear. If you have any suggestions feel free to put it into the suggestion box ‘asks’. Please do not plagiarise. Fee freee to repost but give credit. Lastly, ENJOY!
tw’s: explicit language, talk about session lex, ass grabbing 🙂,macking out
content: all the talk is super suggestive but it’s super fluffy in general!
SYNOPSIS - A lot is going on in here. Just read it. I dont have the energy to explain. Enjoy!
word count: 2.5 - 3k words
this is unedited. I’m sorry. 💕🌸
I lay sprawled across granny’s porch swing, my one hand stretched behind my head as I watch the sun set over the huge orchard in front of me. Somethin’ I never thought I’d be daydreaming’ about a meeting. Like a serious balls to the wall meeting. I usually find the idea of having professional meetings and wearin’ professional clothin’ scary as hell. For what is probably a life changin’ decision that’ll be made in a few hours, sometimes minutes, in a room full of people wearin’ suits or pin skirts or whatever the heck, was always insane to me. People who probably hadn’t had to work a day in their lives. Real work. Not sitting’ at a desk six hours a day and drivin’ in traffic for two hours kinda work. But hard labour. The kind I do on the daily here at Sweet Apple Acres. Pushing’ barrels, mowin’ lawns, herdin’ pigs and sheep and cows and all kinds of shit. Speakin’ of shit, I shovels a lot of it. In fact I was just shovellin’ up some of Winona’s shit thirty minutes ago, before I got hustled into ‘sitting with my thoughts’ before my ‘super profesh get together’. At least that’s how my lady put it while she was helpin’ me button up this get up I have on right now. At first glance you wouldn’t guess it was that bad. Jeans, boots, my cowgirl hat. It has all the staples. Then you look at the mid section. The torso. A white and red, checkered, tight ass button up. It hugs everything. Started hugging my damn belly button when my lady decided it looked better tucked in. I can still move in it at least. Shit doesn’t feel like I’m stuck in a barrel when i try liftin’ my arms. I was able to argue for the sleeveless option. And that’s it. Lord knows I’d get a mouthful of reasons why ‘tight looks chic and baggy looks homeless’. The girl doesn’t seem to know what ‘chic’ means cause she uses it for everything. Food, a random persons posture, a damn pig. What business does a pig have being chic? That’s beyond me. All I know is that she has an interesting way of seein’ shit. Lord, I love that girl. Barely have time to process why then I hear her steps stomping towards the porch door and immediately have my answer. I turn my head towards the door and see her strut towards me and sit herself down right on the edge of Granny’s old pull out I’ve been makin’ myself familiar with since she forced me down on it. “What’s happenin’, sweetheart” I slip my hand under her hooded sweater, well mine, and circle my around her till I’m able to rub little circles at her stomach. “I can’t do this.” She sighs, her stressed out little voice muffled by her hands covering her face. I almost laugh cause I know what this is about. It would dumb as heck if I didn’t considerin’ what we’d been up to in the bedroom for two hours straight- *shit*. My hand clenches around her stomach fat.
“I’m not a jerk,”
“Mhm…”
“And I get that you have to go” she props one of her legs up and under her, her thigh brushin’ the denim of my jeans.
“Mhm.”
“I get how important this meeting is.”
“Right.”
“I mean I researched about it for twenty minutes straight. That’s like, double my attention span” she ends her little rant with the smallest whine in her voice I’ve ever heard.
“Shit.”
“Excuse me” she flicks her head around and faces me fully, her hair, ling as hay, brushin’ against my bare bicep. Gosh willin’, I can’t deal with this.
“I did! I spent ten freaking minutes googling men. My search history is filled with men, jacky! Old men who probably have a kink for sucking on their wives tits.” She yells that last part out. And she don’t even acknowledge it. She just sits there pissed.
This girl…
I tilt my head slightly forward, hiding my face underneath my hat at the thought that comes to mind after the little insult she made.
“Your actin’ like I wasn’t doin’ that same shit to you two hours ago.”
There’s somethin’ about voicing what you’ve been avoiding thinking about out loud that cracks all the goddman resolve you have.
A groan leaves my chest around the same time her pretty little mouth clamps shut and her eyes go wide. Just seeing that same face in a different light stirs up a feeling I’ve been trying to avoid for the sake of my meeting. A meeting I won’t be able to physically walk into till I quit thinkin’ about this pretty lady in front of me’s tits gettin’ sucked on. Goddman. I wanna laugh at her face. I almost do. Till I feel a warm pressure around my hips that reminds me of why I’m wearin’ this tight ass shirt.
I didn’t register her not being next to me, my arm squeezin’ around her cause I was too busy trying to manage my feelings for her. The ones from two hours ago when I was making love to the same body that’s decided to prop itself right on me. Her legs, the same ones I had propped up on my shoulders, are restin’ at either side of my hips and she’s lookin’at me like… like she’s about to say shit that’s gonna ruin me. She ain’t’ nervous anymore. Her pretty little mouth is ready to spew out some life ending shit.
“That’s different, Jacky.” Her one of two hands that are gripping my thighs slides up my body and presses against my chest.
“Those are grown ass men. Your my girl. You can suck on anything you want as long as it’s mine.”
She whispers this shit into my ear. And like a little rat, just when I think she gon’ let me skip the meeting, let me take off this tight ass shirt. Just when my hand is finding its way back underneath her hooded sweater, she slinks off me. Sits her pretty ass back down next to me wearin’ smile sick as sunflowers.
“Like my ass” she says with a shrug, unbothered as hell. Pleased with her dainty little self.
“Baby- “
“No!” She crosses her arms and turns her back to me.
“Honey- “
“Applejack, I’m serious.” She’s pissed.
I only now realise that she came out here upset. And I knew why. She didn’t want me leavin’ her less than an hour after lovin’ on her. Then we turned that shit into a conversation about tit suckin’.
I sit up on my elbow and wrap my other arm around her torso, pullin’ her back into me and kissin’ her cheek senseless. I earn one of those forced away smiles of hers. Where her mouth looks like it’s frownin’ but the rest of her face is just smilin’.
“C’mere” I urge.
With a loud ass sigh she turns her body so shes facin’ me and throws her arms around my neck. Seeing her sad face, even with the small bits of happiness she still has on it cause of my kisses from before, makes me wanna wrap her up in me and keep her there for the next few hours. I would, usually. If it weren’t for this stupid ass meeting..
“What’s goin’ on?” I already know what wrong.
She doesn’t want me leavin’ her right now. But she needs to say that shit out herself. Get it out of her system. Express it and stuff. It’s how she works. And ain’t gonna do it unless I urge her. She’s stubborn like that.
“I don’t want you to go.” She mumbles, ashamed. She ain’t even lookin’ at me.
“It’s like,” she shuffles closer to me.
She’s lookin’ at me now.
“I know you have to go cause this meeting is really important. I should know, I spent twenty minutes researching about it.” This girl makes me smile.
“But my body doesn’t get that yet, I guess. Like, my mind is thinking logically and it’s like ‘Jacky needs to go to this meeting that’s probs gonna guarantee her family’s business success for the next millennia or something’” I’m smilin’ again.
“But my body, like, physically hurts not being with you after giving itself to you the way it just did. Like it still needs you.” She goes quiet for a few seconds before rollin’ her pretty eyes and sighing.
“Not like that though. Not like, it needs you to dry hump on. More like it needs your comfort….and warmth and stuff.” She blushes saying that.
Gets all shy and hides her face.
“I understand what your sayin’, baby.” My thumb traces circles on her hip, my hand tightening around her torso.
I get that feelin’. It’s the feelin’ I’ve was tryin’ to avoid by starring at the stupid orchard. But just seein’ her triggered it back up. I tell myself to forget about the meetin’. To unbutton this tight ass shirt a few, grab her and hold her till tomorrows sunrise.
“No.” That’s what stops me.
Her scary ass tone that has managed to say that word five different ways to me since I met her.
“Your still going to the meeting and your still wearing this shirt and your still leaving. You have to. It’s important. Don’t forget that.” With her finger poking at my chest, her eyes all big and serious, she reminds me of why there’s a meetin’ in the first place.
Reminds me that there’s more then just her in this world to care about.
“Yes ma’am” Somethin’ I’ve realised I’ve lost since this girl came into my life is the weight of my family’s success crushin’ my chest.
Shes always just override that instinct I used to have. The instinct to take care of her the way she deserves has been the thing weighin’ on me. Or rather it’s been somethin’ for me to look forward to everyday. Even when I’m with her I never stop thinkin’ about the next time I get to make her happy. If she hadn’t just reminded me of how important this meetin’ is we’d be back upstairs and she’d be in my arms.
Sha pulls me out of my thinkin’ by wrappin’ her arms around my neck in a hug, whining into my shoulder once. It takes a minute for me to process everythin’. The smell of her hair suddenly right under my nose, her breathe brushin’ my neck. Then I snap out of it and hug her into me, my hand cuppin’ her head, my arm still around her torso.
“It ain’t gonna be for that long, pretty. I promise” I say into her hair, rubbin’ at her head softly.
“Yeah, I know.” She still sounds so sad. It’s like, cause I can’t see her face anymore she feels like she can be more openly upset.
Be as sad as she feels. Have a frown on her face instead of a forced smile she always puts up for me so I don’t feel bad or som shit like that.
“Baby.” I cup the sides of her torso in my hands and try pullin’ her off me so I can see her proper.
She doesn’t budge. I just chuckle and kiss the side of her head, hugging her tighter to me.
“Baby, let me see your face” I say softly into her ear.
She lays her head on my shoulder different so her face is no longer shoved into it and I can see her proper. And shes so sad. Even has her lips in that slight frown n’ pout she gets when she can’t help but be sad.
“There’s nothin’ I can do right now that’ll make you feel better about all this. But you need to know that just cause I’m gonna be gone for a little while don’t mean you’ve lost me. You probably own more of me than I do at this point.” I tease her.
“That’s not true.” She groans.
“Your hoardin’ three of my jerseys that I can count, have a box full of my hats n scarves, two pairs of my boots are tucked away somewhere in your closet-“
“Yeah okay, whatever. Just cause I have a bunch of your clothes doesn’t mean I’m not aloud to miss you.”
“I’m not sayin’ that. I’m sayin’ you have enough of my crap to tide you over till I get back. Then I’m all yours” I hold her chin in between my fingers and kiss her cheek, restin’ my forehead against her head when I pull away.
“I know.” She mumbles, tryin’ to hide her smile.
“Then what’re you bein’ so damn dramatic for?” I tease.
“I’m not dramatic. I just feel very deeply.” She corrects me.
Lookin’ at her now, she ain’t sad anymore. Noticed the shift a second ago when I called her dramatic. It’s like the girl gets off on me remindin’ her of how big of a personality she has. Somethin’ I love about her.
“Yeah you do.” I say as she lures me into kissin’ her.
I deep her down into the space next to me, earnin’ one of her throaty laughs that I feel vibrate through my body even when she pulls away from me. I let her up and help her stand with her hand in mine, probably with some sort of reincarnation of hearts in my eyes, as she stands up in between my legs. She turns, takes my face in her hands and leans down to kiss me proper, with her thumbs rubbin’ at the sides of my face, her little smirk as our lips press together. I even feel the bop of her hip that she does when she’s all happy.i already feel myself missin’ this girl and I haven’t even stopped touchin’ her yet.
“Bye, baby. You’ll be great.” I feel her words linger against my lips as she dips her head to kiss my cheek.
I know that when she pulls away fully she’ll be gone and I won’t get to see her till later tonight. So I keep my grip on her hips tight. I don’t let go. I shamelessly stare at this beautiful lady in front of me and miss her even when she’s right under my finger tips.
“Jacky, let go”
“No”
“Baby”
“Wait”
“Applejack” she laughs, tryin’ to pry me off her as I start hugging her body to me, my head pressin’ against her stomach.
“You have the nerve to pull this shit when you were just telling me about how I have parts of you with me.” I grumbles into my hair, her fingers tanglin’ in my air as she plays with it.
“Yeah but that’s different.” My hand slides lower down her back, right over her ass.
And I squeeze the shit out of it.
“I don’t have any part of you with me” she would’ve smacked the shit outta me if I hadn’t said that.
Instead she looks down at me and smiles, trying not to let my hand on her ass get to her. She leans forward and presses her lips to mine, hard, wastin’ no time n’ swirlin’ her tongue ‘round till I feel my head get clouded with just her. Her smell, her taste, her damn hands still in my hair, the feel of her ass still in my hand. Makes me squeeze that shit even harder.
“You need to go, baby. Come on” she says softly, pulling away from me fully now till only our hands are still touching.
“All right” I let the feelin’ I get when she just stares into my eyes like shes doin’ now, overshadow the pang I feel in my chest as I stand up.
I pull her to me, my arms wrappin’ around her, huggin’ her to me.
“See you soon” I say into her hair.
“Who’s being dramatic now.” She says into my chest.
I just snort and kiss her head just for her to push me away towards the stairs off the porch.
“Here.” She tugs her bracelet off and shoves it in my hand.
“That’s your piece of me” she lifts her shoulder, proud.
“Thank you, sweetheart” I try and pull her back to me but she backs away and points to the damn porch stairs.
“Leave.” This girl.
I realise she isn’t gonna let up till I hall my ass to the truck so instead of kissin’ the shit outta her, I take her hand in mine, kiss it and go off.
Pulitzer Prize winner and Nobel laureate John Steinbeck's (February 27, 1902–December 20, 1968) tips on writing, originally set down in a 1962 letter to the actor and writer Robert Wallsten, which was included in Steinbeck: A Life in Letters
Abandon the idea that you are ever going to finish. Lose track of the 400 pages and write just one page for each day, it helps. Then when it gets finished, you are always surprised.
Write freely and as rapidly as possible and throw the whole thing on paper. Never correct or rewrite until the whole thing is down. Rewrite in process is usually found to be an excuse for not going on. It also interferes with flow and rhythm which can only come from a kind of unconscious association with the material.
Forget your generalized audience. In the first place, the nameless, faceless audience will scare you to death and in the second place, unlike the theater, it doesn’t exist. In writing, your audience is one single reader. I have found that sometimes it helps to pick out one person—a real person you know, or an imagined person and write to that one.
If a scene or a section gets the better of you and you still think you want it—bypass it and go on. When you have finished the whole you can come back to it and then you may find that the reason it gave trouble is because it didn’t belong there.
Beware of a scene that becomes too dear to you, dearer than the rest. It will usually be found that it is out of drawing.
If you are using dialogue—say it aloud as you write it. Only then will it have the sound of speech.
But perhaps most paradoxically yet poetically, 12 years prior — in 1963, immediately after receiving the Nobel Prize in Literature “for his realistic and imaginative writings, combining as they do sympathetic humour and keen social perception” — Steinbeck issued a thoughtful disclaimer to all such advice:
If there is a magic in story writing, and I am convinced there is, no one has ever been able to reduce it to a recipe that can be passed from one person to another. The formula seems to lie solely in the aching urge of the writer to convey something he feels important to the reader. If the writer has that urge, he may sometimes, but by no means always, find the way to do it. You must perceive the excellence that makes a good story good or the errors that make a bad story. For a bad story is only an ineffective story.
i don’t need sleep, i need to figure out how this subplot connects to the main plot because apparently, my characters decided to go off-script at 2 a.m
