#(im fucking lying straight through my teeth)

[vaxyl]

Feeling kinda gay this 5am and I've not slept at all

So have an assortment of Vax edits where I've made him blush because he a cutie

mostly season 1, but 2 are from season 2... need to make more of these edits tbh

Vax is such a cutie

[queercatboyrights]

thinking about my durge oc and going insane. like imagine you were the leader of a big murder cult and making plans to take over the world with some other freaks and then your sister gets jealous that your evil murder god dad favors you more so she does a little murder about it. stabs your brain full of holes. then you get to be the first person to get some weird worm shoved up in your brain and experimented on. AND that's not even the start of it!!!!

you forget literally EVERYTHING about yourself. stranded on a crashing alien ship with only a name and horrendous murderous thoughts. then you start meeting a bunch of other guys after you and the weird girls that want to kill each other manage to survive the crash. you start to get to know them as you travel together. some of them are kind of weird. some of them aren't even fully human/mortal anymore, but they still treat you decently. hell, they even still save your ass a few times in battle. EVEN AFTER YOU KILL SOMEONE IN YOUR SLEEP while reluctant they STILL manage to treat you with respect and still let you lead the group around.

you don't remember anything about your old life, but these people still fill your chest with a warm fluffy feeling. they do things to help you, even if they don't get much out of it, even when your murderous urges put them more at risk rather then help them out they still come to your aid. you start worry about them, in combat and out of it. you start thinking more strategically about battles and how you can keep your companions from getting hurt, you start taking their feelings into consideration when making group decisions, sometimes even to the point where you don't even know of you *can* make that kind of decision. it drives you mad but you couldn't bear hurting these people who have done so much for you for so little.

and then you start to delve into the thick of the whole illithid/cult mess. you start to pick up more pieces of the story, finding the crumbs of your old life scattered about through it all. you start to get this heavy and gnawing ball of steel all wrapped up in your guts. you wander through the halls of moonrise and **feel** the ghostly eyes of your past haunting you from afar, yet no matter how hard you try you just. can't place your finger on why being here makes you feel so sick. and as you and your party keeps moving forward that feeling only gets stronger. and so do your urges. fighting tooth and nail to not lose yourself. to not lose the companions you've grown to care about so much. to keep that soft warm feeling you've just learned about lingering in your heart. and yet your past continues to try and worm its way back into your life. slowly poisoning everything you now work so hard to try to protect. and you still don't know **why**

you've lost everything, but did it even matter? when the life you couldnt even remeber before was nothing but a cold and empty one? do you even want that so called power your butler tempts you with back? especially if it means losing the people that showed you you could feel more than just...*empty*??

is taking back a life that was forced upon you something you really want?

or do you give it all up? be content in your loss and rejoice in the people and love you've found for yourself, the love that you were never allowed to have before

[chrispotatos]

Unfollowed- chris sturniolo

warnings: smut, p in v sex, idk what

summary: you saw chris' following and he makes you help unfollow them all since it bothers you so much.

a/n: i didn't proofread cause im too tired and i know im gonna regret it when i wake up.

a/n: this was inspired by one of @mattscoquette asks I'll tey and find it when i wake up but I'm literally about to crash out.

"im not playing around with you chris, so stop fucking smiling" you say through gritted teeth, pointing in his face.

You were currently yelling at chris about his insta following. You don't normally check his following because he has your trust and you didn't need too.

His fans were constantly messaging you about it so you checked and it was random only fan girls.

"Unfollow them!" you demanded, handing him his phone back. "why? you jealous" he let out a humorless laugh; infuriating you more.

"they don't mean anything to me" he added you felt as though he was lying straight through his teeth. If they didn't mean anything why couldn't he simply unfollow them "chris it was brought to my attention and it bothers me. unfollow. them"

"all of them" i added

"i don't know about you but this is really turning me on" he snorts grabbing your wrist and putting your hand on his crotch feeling his growing erection, not taking his eyes off you once; smirking. "chris.."

you were flattered while also shocked, for the most part. what you were saying probably wasn't even being heard and if so he liked it. The yelling and you trying to stand your ground and exert dominance, it was cute the affects you had on him showed profusely.

"go lay on the bed y/n" his stern tone made your pussy throb, you were now just as turned on as him.

chris got up from his gaming chair and walked over to the bed, where you were laying propped up on your elbows.

"you wanna demand thing, how bout you do me a favor and unfollow these girls for me, while i fuck you huh?" he told you, not asking nor suggesting.

He pulled your legs off the bed and flipped you onto your stomach, your ass sticking out against him. you let out a suprised gasp from the aggressive toss.

he threw his phone infront of you on his following list. "don't touch shit till i tell you to" you nod in response.

"oh c'mon baby, you were doing all that yelling, and don't have not one thing to say?" he teased. you shake your head making a chuckle leave his lips "alright then"

chris tugged your loosley fitted jeans off and threw them onto the ground leaving you in your panties. He unzips his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers and takes his aching dick out leaking with arousal.

he pulls your panties to the side to feel your soaked cunt, his semi cold fingers coming in contact with your core made you jolt. "Y/n" he warns.

your panties were pulled down and tossed to the side with some of your other article of clothing. you helped by also removing your shirt, but you gave up when you started struggling to take your bra off.

chris tugs your hair back and puts his hand under your mouth "spit" whatever you could form in your mouth you spit into his hand.

he strokes his length, with pre cum and your spit.

chris groans when sliding into your pussy this made you sink your teeth into your bottom lip letting out a muffled whimper.

"Start unfollowing. and say the name of the girls you unfollow too"

he ruts his hips into you, a loud moan following from the sudden movement followed by a low 'fuck'

your focus was on the phone but the sensation of pleasure was a distracting and manipulating your train of thought.

"I don't hear you" he reminds. His thrusts becoming more forceful and deep.

"paige- i unfollowed paige" you squealed screwing your eyes shut and opening them again to finish what was asked of you. "Im not letting you cum until you unfollowed every girl"

That made you fill with haste and begin looking at names quicker atleast you thought you were going quicker. "sid- sidney i unfollowed her" chris makes a makeshift ponytail and uses that as leverage to fuck into you harder.

his dick abusing your insides pumping in and out of your wet pussy. Wet, lewd sounds of skin slapping echoed in the room. chris brings his hand down to your clit rubbing it vigourisly with pressure, leaving your mouth agape, whimpers and high-pitched moans exited your mouth.

"chris- i can't finish reading the names" you admit. "then i guess I'll just have to stop" he begins slowing down his pace "no!" You protest against it picking the phone back up

"thats what i thought"

"mia.. im close" you said "my names not mia" he lets out a humorous chuckle, removing his hand from your hair and hold your hips pushing in and out.

You are reaching your climax and trying so hard not to realese.

his movements were at an ungodly pace making you drop his phone and forgetting why you were holding it in the first place.

with a few seconds passing his actions were getting more sloppy signifying he was getting close to his orgasm.

there was one more girl left then you were done it's not like he followed a whole bunch of them just about 10 max.

"madeline!" you yell out the last girls name, hitting the unfollow button then finishing around him laying limp against the bed. chris feels you up with his seed, your juices mixing; as he plunges his twitching cock in and out of you riding out both your orgasms, he winced pulling out. heavy breaths leaving from both of you. chris flops down beside you on the bed.

waiting a few minutes watching, as your chest rises and falls; catching your breath. "lets get cleaned up yeah?" he suggested.

[leclsrc]

you know it ✴︎ cl16

genre: porn WITH plot (for once?! everyone cheered), humor, bit of fluff... oh inaccurate depictions of the 2022 season sorry

word count: 7k

Charles is a bit disappointed the pretty girl he harbors a crush on doesn’t have him listed as a Formula 1 crush. He is a lot disappointed that you two can’t fuck.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... degradation, praise, charles is a bit switchy here lol, penetrative sex, a bit of ass play sorry...., oral (m receiving), semi public sex, yeah

title from this. i love u guys im so sleepy

Joris insists there’s some big present waiting for Charles in his car, to celebrate the middle of the season that has, and will no doubt continue to stretch into a period of conflict and strategy woes. He yanks off the beanie sitting on his head, listens to small talk drifting between Joris and Carlos as they all walk toward their cars to alleviate the bubble of nerves in the low of his stomach. 

Sure enough, there’s an unassuming box lying on the driver’s seat. Joris slides into the passenger seat after Carlos drives away with his girlfriend, his grin shit-eating and mischievous. The door is half open when Charles takes the box to inspect it. White, with the Ferrari logo printed neatly on the centre (very classy touch), the sides are signed by different members of his team. He scratches through the seal and pulls the flap open.

He’s been given a quasi-official Ferrari box of condoms.

Thirty-six condoms, at that, small squares neatly lined up next to each other. Talk about a welcoming present. Not a camera, not racing memorabilia, not a new pair of shoes. Just condoms. Thirty-six of them.

“A mid-season pick-me-up,” presses his friend, giddily. The shorter male lounges comfortably on the seat, a blissful look of pride on his face. Laughing with exasperation, Charles wedges the box shut and tosses it carelessly into the backseat, preparing to drive. This isn’t his first rodeo with weird gifts—he’s half-sure he got adoption papers from an especially excited fan once before.

“You are such an asshole.”

“It’s also a congratulations on winning literally every race so far present,” Joris adds. It’s hyperbole but has a ring of truth to it. As the season closes, Charles’ chances of holding up the trophy this year increase. 

Despite himself, Charles has a better outlook on his chances for the remainder of the season, driving-wise. He’s given it his all so far, and the rest looks promising enough. He only hopes he’s right. Netflix also increased the amount of people getting into the sport, so he’s dealing with tons more fans and nosey DMs, but it’s not too much of an impediment to a hopefully stellar season.

Charles makes a right. “Do you plan to use them?” Joris asks then, a teasing tone taking on his voice as he scrolls through his phone.

“No, not really,” Charles says, lying straight through his teeth.

“You’re a fucking liar, you are.” He whips his head toward Charles, observing his stoic side profile. “You’re single, haven’t gotten laid in months—”

“—weeks.” Corrects Charles with a cough, the defense coming at an embarrassing speed.

“…Case in point. And sports gets everyone horny. And if you didn’t know, Mattia actually OK-ed the condoms, so you’ve basically been greenlit by your boss to fuck half the world. Thank me later. I’m proud of myself.”

“Sports gets everyone competitive. Because it’s sports. Which, you’re conveniently forgetting, is my life profession.”

“Loosen up,” Joris whistles lowly. “You think Lewis got seven titles by being a closed-off celibate? It’s practically tradition to fuck around if you’re single in sports. And, for others, being in a relationship is barely an obstacle, anyway.”

Charles hates to admit that Joris is right—because he is. Racing isn’t racing without the extravagant parties that follow, and the girls and guys brought back to hotels for reasons known to everyone. People from everywhere come to the paddock and the clubs—models, influencers, actors. The pent-up energy has to go somewhere, he supposes.

But even if the little shit is right, Charles still maintains a level of dignity. Ergo, he’s steadfast in his belief that he will not be sleeping around or putting this godforsaken box of condoms to any semblance of use while the rest of the season progresses. He just hopes he won’t eat his words.

—

Monza kicks off with a 1-2 and secures Charles with a comfortable lead ahead Max.

He is high on adrenaline all night, toasting and chugging to the win, snapping pictures with Carlos, proud out of his mind. It’s everything he’s wanted and more, a quench to the thirst he’d developed over the season, a slap in the face to his doubters, a kiss on his. He texts his family, friends who aren’t present, some other people who he feels are deserving of a personal announcement, and pockets his phone.

“Now would be a great time to put that gift to use,” Carlos says at some point, when everyone in the garage is kicking back alcohol and slowly preparing to move the celebrations someplace else.

Charles cringes visibly, having almost forgotten about the dreaded gift, and totally forgotten Carlos’ knowledge of it. Even with the recent win, he’s already thinking of the next, the promise of a two-peat, another podium, hell, another 1-2. The condoms were honest to God the last thing on his mind.

They break apart an hour later, when Charles is heading to the hotel and Carlos is headed somewhere else. He’s almost to the exit when someone calls his attention in a curt English voice.He turns and finds Lewis jogging toward him, outside of his race suit and back in the fashionable apparel Charles merely wishes he could pull off.

“Lewis,” he waves, pacing toward him to save the extra few seconds of waiting. 

“Amazing, amazing race, man,” the elder compliments. “You’ve got the best chance at the title here.”

Warmth melts into Charles’ body and he offers praise back, which—praising Lewis is just about the easiest thing in the world. Nerves bleed out of him as the conversation continues, the atmosphere of a finished race a welcome accompaniment to their strategic talk. 

“Headed to a party, yeah?” Lewis asks when they’ve both exhausted the topic. Charles gives a half-hearted shrug, already energized enough from such a momentous win, and he nods in response. “Nah, I get it. Sometimes you just gotta sleep. But hey, if you’re ever free, we should go get dinner sometime.”

—

The “dinner sometime” happens in Singapore. Having gotten P1 beside Lewis and therefore once again high off the adrenaline, Charles claps Andrea on the back and retrieves his phone to view two texts. One reads Put the condoms to use yet, champ? from Joris, and the other Can I take you up on the dinner? from Lewis. One goes answered and the other goes muted on his iMessage.

A little something he failed to remember was Lewis’ plant-based diet, a fact that hurtles back toward him when he can’t find steak on the menu of this classy, hole-in-the-wall type of restaurant. Of course Lewis would know these types of places, he thinks. He’s a millennial semi-hipster with a separate Instagram account for his dog.

Charles ends up ordering pasta, and Lewis beside him orders a cacophony of very vegan, hippy sounding meals, the quantity of which could feed the two of them. “I hope you don’t mind,” Lewis says when the waiter departs, “but a friend is actually joining us tonight.”

“Sure,” Charles says honestly. As long as it’s not some deranged hyperfan, he does well in social situations. Right then, Lewis calls someone over. Charles looks up, squints through the dim mood lighting to try and make out the nearing figure. And then you’re sitting down across them, smiling softly, exchanging hellos with Lewis.

A little something Lewis fails to remember is his “friends” can just as well be called “celebrities,” because he is, after all, a sporting legend. So if Lewis says “friend,” Charles will assume it’s a “friend,” and not a world-famous model whose face is plastered everywhere on and offline.

“Charles Leclerc,” he says blankly.

You introduce yourself, sliding easily into a bout of questions, apologies for missing the race, you’re impossibly jetlagged, it’s crazy. Lewis chips in with something about how he’s already ordered food for the both of you, and this and that, and Charles is hopeless, staring at your face the entire time. He hopes he looks more sexy than aloof or, worse, starstruck, because it’s turning out to be the kind of situation where he looks like the deranged hyperfan, and not the other way around for once.

To be clear, Charles isn’t a fan of you. He just knows of you, because honestly, who doesn’t at this point? You’re talking on and on about how your latest shoot with Jacquemus was a pain because you shot in a tank top in sub-zero weather, but you express it like it’s the most profound topic on Earth.

Lewis turns to him and, in an (eventually successful) effort to include more of Charles in the conversation, goes, “She’s a big Formula One fan, Charles.”

Okay. Common ground. Charles lifts both brows smugly, his eyes flickering back over to you. “Really?”

You meet his eyes and smile, looking downward and blinking owlishly. You’re so pretty, long lashes fluttering as you blink and try to find an answer. Christ, you’re so painfully his type.

Lewis chimes in again—“Really. And not just because she and I are friends. I mean she was into racing before we got acquainted. Honestly. Quiz her and everything”—then excuses himself to “take a call.” (His phone wasn’t even ringing—total bullshit—but Charles is ultimately grateful for it.)

You make a face of shut up toward the departing Lewis, and Charles exhales a quiet laugh at your defiance. You clear your throat and come up with an answer.

“I’m not a big fan,” you say. “I’m more of a casual, ‘every once in a while’ type of fan.”

“That’s what every big fan of sports says,” Charles says smoothly. 

“Is it?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, making a tch noise. You chuckle before going, “Well, if you insist, I’ll be honest. I didn’t want it to come to this, but okay. I am a fan… of Red Bull.”

Charles fakes extreme offense, his jaw dropping as if totally scandalized. You laugh, throwing two hands up in faux surrender. “Not Red Bull,” he says, his tone making him sound even more devastated. “You’re telling me you—don’t tell me you think Max Verstappen is attractive.”

“I mean, a bit!”

Charles makes sarcastic sounds of disapproval, and you laugh. Charles leans forward, and you do, too, both of you smiling. “So you’re into the angry drivers?”

“I’m not into a specific kind of driver,” you say casually, your tongue peeking out to lick over your bottom lip. Your voice is as soft as it is firm, slow and demure, matching the way your eyes glint. You’re impossibly pretty. He almost can’t handle it.

“So who’s making the cut?” He prompts, interested.

“Well, for starters, drivers who are my age,” you say slowly. “I turned twenty-four this year, so anyone within that bracket.”

“Oh?” Charles pretends to delve into deep thought, teasing. “Maybe Stroll? He’s very funny, speaks good English. You can never really say no to a Canadian.”

Your face warms, and you hope your flustered state isn’t too obvious as you shake your head. “He seems fun, but I prefer somebody a bit… a bit older.”

“Older…” he hums. “Pierre, perhaps? Tad bit older, real charming, great driver. I can introduce you. We’re good friends, you know.”

You click your tongue, smiling shyly. You bite your lip and it takes everything in Charles to not turn on his horny gears when he sees you, big eyes and lip bite, look so pretty. “You tease me,” you say meekly. Charles covers a cough with a chuckle and adjusts his position on the seat.

Later, after Lewis comes back in (“Long call, eh? It was about Roscoe.” Bullshit again) and you all get to order drinks, and you’ve departed in your private car, pressing an air kiss to Lewis and waving goodbye to Charles, he turns to the Mercedes driver and hums.

“Next time you have one of these”—he points to the restaurant, gestures to the front door—“dinners, let me know, okay?”

“Ah.” Lewis winks, smirking. “I’ll be sure to.”

—

Understandably, your schedules never seem to mesh well together. Lewis ends up giving Charles your number as compensation.

He stares at the contact longer than he’d like to admit, when he’s marinating in the sweltering heat of Austin. He’s finished much of his work for this half of the day so he’s mostly watching the engineers work on the last bits of modification for Sunday; he cherishest the free time and drafts, reads, and rereads texts, scours Google and Instagram for pictures of, and anything related to, you.

There’s a few new articles about buying a new car (a Benz, much to Charles’ chagrin) and new photoshoots intermittently scattered across Europe, with all sorts of brands. He sees a picture you’ve posted of yourself smiling at the camera and thinks of how pretty it would look as his lockscreen. 

Am I seeing you soon? He texts finally. He hopes it’s enough to let you know who he is.

Hopefully is the reply. He smiles the whole day.

—

You’ve been texting and calling almost everyday, conversations stretching continents. He only sees you next in Mexico, Friday night, at a club Lewis has rented out for a crazy price that will no doubt be replenished in days anyway. He’s dropped to second here, but the thrill riding in him makes up for his disappointment. The place is so crowded—everyone and their mums seem to have been invited here—room blinking purple and blue, each step vibrating with the heavy bass of EDM. He catches you right as you exit the washroom area, and you look pleasantly surprised to see him.

He saw you earlier, when you were doing shots of tequila and chatting with with Bella and Lewis, but just as quickly as he spotted you, you’d dipped back into the sea of people. Now is better, he thinks. You two are alone.

“Charles, hi,” you say casually. You’re wearing a tight top and a short skirt that, despite Charles’ best efforts, always cast his gaze downward. He wonders what’s underneath, hungers to get his hands there. But he’s nothing if he’s not patient, willing to play the long game.

He takes a step forward, his gaze steady on you. Charles isn’t the tallest driver, but he’s got a big presence. You swallow, taking a step back to accommodate him. He smirks. “You look pretty.” 

“You flatter me,” you say thickly, smiling, inviting him closer. The air is hot around the both of you—when your eyes flit around, they see nobody. You’re alone together. His eyes pierce into yours so deep you feel like breaking eye contact, exhaling as you take another step back—evidently, you’re distracted, because you stumble.

His arm circles around your waist, and once you steady, the hand moves down to your hip. It stays, a reminder of what you might be getting soon. You smile curtly, wondering what this might look like to a bystander, a stranger. Somebody might want to piss and walk in to see the strongest world champion contender’s hand on Chanel’s poster girl’s waist.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly against your ear.

“More than.” You say, breath shaky. “It’s more than okay.”

He chuckles. “Good. I’d hate if we couldn’t fuck before Abu Dhabi.”

Your finger traces down and wraps around the belt loop of his jeans. “Who said anything about fucking?”

Charles exhales a laugh, his lips curling upward into an amused smile. “Ah? I can’t fuck you, then?”

“I’ll let you fuck me when you’re holding up the world champion trophy,” you say sweetly, tugging him closer. “That’s okay, right?” You stare up at him, blinking, pouty. He wonders, is this how you might look with your lips wrapped around his—

“That’s about a month away.” His composure barely wavers, his hand traveling lower, blunt nails digging into your ass. Your breath hitches. 

“I’m aware,” you say lowly. So be it, Charles thinks—he’s got thirty-six condoms for a reason.

“Define fuck,” he says, voice rough.

“Penetration.” You’re quick with it, cocking your head to the side. You lean back confidently, testin him, eyes batting flirtatiously. 

It’s time he get a little creative.

—

Daytime weather is hot and the paddock is swarming with people, but Charles has his sights set on somebody sitting in the Mercedes hospitality. He manages to get out of morning meetings earlier, wedging himself out of the room and passing by a mirror to fix his hair with admirable concentration. He’s in the middle of combing through it when a force tugs at the hem of his polo, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Uh—Carlos? What the hell?” He asks, brow raised defensively. Facing him are Carlos, Joris, and Pierre, arms crossed over their torsos and amused expressions on their faces.

“What are you doing?” Asks Pierre, cocking his head to the side.

“Fixing my hair.” 

“Pussy appointment?” Joris interjects; the vulgarity of his statement earns him a poke on the side from Carlos, who clicks his tongue.

“Wh—I don’t—”

“You are shit at lying, mate,” says Pierre, his lips curled into a devious smile. “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody,” he lies.

“Charles,” says Lewis suddenly from behind them, waving his arms to get the former’s attention, “are you going to go over and say hi?”

Hook, line, and sinker. He’s been caught. “Well, well, well,” Carlos starts, mischievous.

“Guys—” Charles says, attempting to make an excuse.

“Looks like your vow of celibacy isn’t so far off after all,” Pierre adds. “That one over at Mercedes is going to break it, eh?”

“Yeah.” Joris says, smirking.  “Lucky George, huh.”

The three face him, incredulous. “I was kidding,” he fibs, once he realizes his epiphany is wrong. “Kidding.”

Charles walks off, and ends up seeing you right where he expected you, sitting beside Lewis in a tiny dress with your hair pinned up into a bun. Almost naturally, your words fall into the flirtatious back-and-forth you’d started at the dinner, hyperaware of the cameras snapping your pictures. At some point, the Brit excuses himself to “take a call” (again, bullshit) and leaves the two of you alone.

“See anything nice on the paddock?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with a teasing smile, head cocking to the side to gauge his reaction. He chuckles.

“Did you get a picture with Max?”

“Only a ton.” You pause. “And Daniel, too.”

“Ah, you’re just crushing on the whole paddock, now are you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek, leans forward.” Uh, Checo?”

“Pass,” you say with a nose scrunch. You’re so fucking pretty.

“Lewis.”

“God, pass. He’s not ugly, but he’s my brother at this point.”

“Pierre.”

“Horribly French, but… smash.”

“Are you not into the French?” He smiles. “Good to know. Hmm—Carlos.”

“I’d be stupid to say anything other than smash.” You narrow your eyes, licking over your lips. “I’m into the Ferrari guys, is the thing.” His gaze travels to your crossed legs, long and disappearing into the hem of your dress.

He smirks. “Are you?”

“I really am,” you hum.

“Are you staying long? All weekend?”

“Yeah, I’m free from work for now,” you say casually. “Any recommendations on what fun things I can do here?”

“I can think of…” he says, smirking a little. “A few.”

—

Stupid places to have sex, number one: a motorhome.

Still, Charles is crowding you up against the wall of the room, swallowing the whimper that leaves your mouth with his own. And still, this isn’t sex. At least not the kind he wants the most. He mentally praises Carlos for being able to decipher the typo-laden text he’d sent out on the way here, one hand around your waist, the other barely capable of typing with how fast his brain ran. Clesr the fuckng room npw now npw it read. Thank God.

Your mouth tastes like champagne, and everywhere else smells divine. Your hands roam impatiently over his shoulders and you make muted noises of frustration at your inability to pull his shirt off. You settle for letting your hands crawl underneath it, stroking over his abs.

“D’you remember what I told you,” you pant, his lips insistent on your neck, “at the club?”

“Yeah,” he says, grunting at the memory.

“Okay.” You breathe. “Let me suck you off.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Jesus. Okay. Fuck.”

You giggle, and he watches intently as you drop onto your knees, looking up at him through thick lashes. You’re insistent, pulling the zip of his jeans down and tugging his cock out. It’s pretty, thick like the rest of him, already hard. 

He’s at his limit, having you here like this, on you knees and stretching your lips around the tip of his dick. Your eyes barely leave his, fluttering as they tear up when you take him in your throat.

He throws his head back, squeezes his eyes shut, lets a hand unpin your bun and thread itself into the untangled hair. If he looks at you, he’ll see your head bobbing up and down on his cock, and he genuinely needs to hold off the orgasm first.

He rocks forward into your mouth and feels your throat close up around him. That’s enough to weaken his resolve, send grunts out of his throat that he can’t keep quiet.

“Oh, shit,” he says, feeling every part of your mouth and throat around him, warm and tense. He can’t help but thrust harder, steady but not too rough, growing more aroused with every sound of you choking on him.

His gaze flickers toward you. You’re teary-eyed, lips dotted with spit, choking yourself on his cock. Just for him, here in public. You pull off, blinking tears away from your face and looking up at him smilingly.

He laughs, guiding his cock back into your mouth, watching the way your brows knit together, pleading, almost. You're at his mercy, he thinks, thrusting harder, listening to your coughs. He loves seeing you like this, innocent face messy and slick with spit and precum, eyes big and needy.

“You like that?” He grunts. “Look at me.”

You nod the best you can. Yes, you want to say. Give me more, I love it.

“Yeaaah, fuck. I know you do,” he says through his teeth, staving off his orgasm the best he can before he releases all over you. The image alone of streaking you with his cum, claiming you all over-eyelashes, tits, cheeks splashed with cum-is enough to send him closer to the edge. “Gonna cum,” he grunts.

You moan around him, the vibrations causing his eyelids to flutter. You shake your head, pulling off and wrapping your hand around his dick, stroking slower. “Not yet,” you say sweetly, watching him throw his head back in pleasure and frustration. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, exhales shakily.

“Shit.” He whines. “Come on, baby. Make me cum.” He cups your jaw, stares down at you.

You stroke him faster, lip between your teeth. “Okay,” you say with a smile. “Cum for me, Charles.”

He stops staving himself off, falls into the pleasure and relief of your hand around his cock until he’s tense all over, knitting his hand into your hair and pushing you backwards so he can press his tip on the flat expanse of your tongue and let his cum shoot there. It drips from your tongue and lips onto your chin and you giggle, swallowing it, scooping up the rest to push into your mouth.

You stand, licking your lips slowly. “I owe you,” he pants, zipping himself up. Already he’s thinking about what he can do to you in return. Tease you, like you did him, bend you over his lap or sit you on it and make you whine and writhe and wait and cum. 

“I’ll hold you to that, champion,” you murmur, kissing his cheek and slipping back outside.

—

Ferrari’s advice is shit and despite his good mood and quick-witted driving, Charles finishes in fifth—not too shabby, but disastrous for his overall standings.

He suffers through a horrible debrief where attempts to defend his honor go unheard, his mood wilting and wilting until he’s at the media pen and ushered in front of some network he hasn’t heard of. They’ve probably paid to get a good seat here.

He’s in a shit mood, he hasn’t seen Joris or Pierre or you in hours, and has only faced red-faced frustrated superiors and now, wide-eyed journalists with loose mouths. The media’s done the mandatory speculation between the two of you, so he already expects questions of that variety, but it’s still hot and angry when he does.

Are you banging the Marc Jacobs model? The Irish reporter asks with a wink, so very unprofessional and not at all belonging to reputable media. The hot leggy one who has fuck me eyes?

Charles clenches his jaw, rolls his eyes, says fuck off mate and shoves him backward a little, then walks away and readjusts his cap. The clip makes Twitter and he feels even worse with the amount of troll accounts telling him to Jeez, take a joke.

After the ordeal, in your hotel room, you sigh softly and run your hands through his still shampoo-smelling hair. “You didn’t need to do that,” you say, a bit strictly. He knows you’re grateful, though, and a bit proud.

“I wanted to,” he insists softly. He forgets to leave before morning; when he does, he forgets his official Ferrari shirt hanging on the seat, leaving in a spare one instead. It’s got his number across the back. You don’t tell him.

—

In between Mexico and Sao Paulo, he manages to catch a flight to New York to peek into one of your photoshoots. It’s for Chanel and he’s half-sure he’s taken more pictures of you than the official photographer did. At this point your vague relationship status has caught onto headlines everywhere, and he doesn’t miss the curious murmurs from paparazzo that follow him as he enters your apartment later to greet you.

You’re in a pair of shorts and a tank top when you open the door, greeting him with a tight hug and leading him inside with a loose grip.

“Wine?”

“Please.” He eyes the wide area, the big floor-to-ceiling windows and the art on the walls. “Hungry?”

“Mmm.” You hum, sliding a glass toward him. “Starving.”

“Pizza?”

“Something else.” You smile. He tears his eyes away from your tits, poking out of the thin cotton, and coughs.

The both of you end up on the couch, your legs draped over his as you talk about racing.

He’s ranting about how he’s neck to neck with Max now, and the final verdict will likely be decided at Abu Dhabi, a fact that sends nerves all through him. You’re listening, you really are, but it’s difficult to keep listening because his hand, big and rough, is stroking your bare calf as he talks absentmindedly. 

You offer the occasional mmm-hmm and uh-huh and even the oh really to sell it, but he doesn’t seem to be conscious of how many sparks are coursing through you because of his hand on your leg. He just talks and talks, accent curving into curse words elicited by the competition.

And his voice, rough and deeper when he slides into Italian phrases, gets in your head, reminds you of the way he’d moaned when you had his dick in your mouth. You like that? he’d said, panting, heavy, hot. His hand remained in your hair, controlling you the same way you did him. Fuck.

When you blink, he’s stopped talking, and has likely noticed your wandering imagination if his teasing smile is anything to go by. You cough, clear your throat, adjust your thighs. You’re thinking—you can’t stop thinking—about what happened in Mexico, not just in the motorhome but in the club where he’d let his hand sprawl over your ass and stay there, possessive.

The tension rises. I owe you. He really does. You reach over and grab your phone from the coffee table, snap a few pictures of him. “—Hey!” He protests, scrabbling to grab it from you while balancing his half-full glass. “I look god awful.”

You stand up, review the picture. He looks so impossibly handsome. “You’re right, you do,” you say, pouting. 

He reaches over again, chuckling, and you avoid him. “Foul play!”

“Tch. At least show it to me,” he says defeatedly, so you do: presenting your screen to him.

Quickly, he makes a grab for it, but you just escape his grip, ending up right in front of him and leaning over. You’re losing your balance, digging your toes into your carpet to maintain stance. He spares a glance at your shorts, riding low on your hips, showing a bit of thin lace.

Charles tugs you forward by the hem of your top and then takes your wrist into his grip—the force of his grab makes your tits shake underneath your flimsy tank top. It’s dragged down so far your tits are spilling out. His eyes flicker down to them, dark, and a pretty smile spreads across his face.

“Come on, give it,” he challenges, eyes narrowing a little. You bite your lip, inwardly liking this a little too much—being at his mercy, trapped in his strong grip. You’re flustered and it shows.

He wrestles you onto his lap with ease, his arms steady around you. You stare downwards, dark eyes meeting his, hand on his broad shoulder for leverage. He’s so pretty, you think, so hot and handsome and you need him right now. Through his jeans you can feel how thick he is, his dick growing, getting hard and huge under you. It feels big even through a few layers—you can’t help but imagine how it might feel inside you.

Your phone clatters to the carpet behind the couch. “I win,” you say breathlessly.

He grabs your hips and jerks his upward, letting his stiff dick press up even more against your shorts.

“I think I’m the winner here,” he says gruffly, hands feeling you up all over. He thumbs at your chest, rubbing over your tits. You shiver—it feels good having him on you like this, your mind turning to mush.

“Shut up,” you laugh, shakily. A hand wanders in between your thighs, another coming to squeeze your barely-covered ass. You can’t focus on much, just his hands roaming everywhere and his hard dick pressing against your core. He shoves your hips downward again, his cock hard and perfectly against your pussy.

“You feel that?” He asks; it leaves him in one low breath.  

“Yeah,” you say, whimpering. “I want it.”

He grinds up against you again, his thumb teasing the hem of your shorts. Closer to where you want it. “Don’t think you could even take it, baby.”

“I hate you,” you say. “You know I can.”

He laughs. “We’ll see, yeah?” You find a rhythm of grinding down against his cock, nestled right against your ass. He’s everywhere and you can’t handle it anymore, finding yourself craving him more and more.

You moan against his neck—and then come to your senses. “No.”

He smirks when you pull away. “Tempted, were you?”

“Not…” You pause. You’re sweaty, flushed all over, and your panties are sticking to you from how wet you’ve grown. “Not very.”

—

Abu Dhabi is a son of a bitch.

It comes with meetings, meetings, debriefs, calls, meetings. Everything is riding on the night’s race, the flurry of social media a welcome source of anxiety for him as he watches the hours whiz by. You’d missed seeing him, understood he was busy; you send a selfie to compensate and it gets him calm enough to last the pre-race buzz.

Time speeds by with lunch, coaching, drills, talks with Carlos and Mattia and even Max, who displays support as strongly as competitiveness. Before he even realizes it, he blinks and he’s in his suit, adjusting his balaclava, inhaling, exhaling. Everything is just the way he likes—needs—it to be.

He drives himself to P2 behind Max, eyes shut.

All else seeps into him, natural method, natural routine. He flexes his thumbs. Through the team radio his engineer goes good luck, and Charles’ practice bleeds into his subconscious. The air is heavy, with tension and excitement, the division of blue and red. Everyone’s eager to see who claims the title. 

The lights go off and everything is left to skill, blurring into noise and turns and expletives yelled into the team radio. He can’t even feel himself think, turning with dexterity and overtaking with the kind of vengeance he hasn’t let out in a while. 

For all his trying, Max keeps up just the same, keeping a neck and neck level for the relative entirety of the race. They’re milking out the last few laps together, and Charles feels every fibre of his being work toward this, just this, nothing but this right now. Nothing but the finish line.

You got this, Charles, says the engineer, voice heightening. Maiden world championship.

He nods to himself, trusts his instincts and when he catches sight of the finish line, he thinks: he’s the best driver on the grid.

So he revs faster, and the rest descends into—

Absolute fucking chaos.

—

He’s smiling when he approaches the reporter, who’s already holding the mic with wonder. He asks for a message in Italian, then reminds him—and the crowd—that, in case he forgot, he’s world champion. Charles thinks he genuinely can’t ever.

“What are you doing to celebrate?” He asks then, smiling.

Sweaty, with damp hair and shiny skin, he smirks and leans closer. “Someone, I hope.”

—

“Hey there, champ.”

You’re already leaning against his hotel room door when he gets there, after the chore of wrestling himself free from the rest of the team pressuring him to get drinks. Carlos helps out, babbles something or other about Charles being “busy with something else”—which isn't wrong, not at all. He offers a smooth wink, bending down to kiss you.

Your mouths meet, softly first then increasingly messy as he pins you against the door. You push away, breathing heavy. “I don’t know what you’re into, but I don't want the top floor of this hotel seeing us fucking.”

“I wasn’t into that, but now that you brought it up…” You swat his arm and he laughs, unlocking the door and pulling you inside. You’re clinging onto him—his arms, his chest, anything, kissing up his neck and jaw. He groans at how needy you are. All for him, he thinks. Probably soaked through your panties and it’s all because of him.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he says gently, voice low as he leads you to the bed. He catches sight of your shirt and a brow raises. “Did you buy that?”

“Hmm?” You look down, following his gaze and blinking. The shirt you’re wearing is loose, hanging off your shoulders and hastily tucked into your miniskirt so it looks like you actually have trousers on. “Oh. No, this is yours.”

“Mine.” He smiles a little. “You look so good in it, princess.” His hands mindlessly grope at you, hungry, sneaking underneath your skirt to feel at the lace there. 

In retaliation, you lean forward, unbutton his jeans and tug at it.

“You left it at one of my”—you gasp, feeling his finger sneak its way beneath your panties—“my hotel rooms.”

“Pretty girl, pretty shirt, pretty lace, yeah?” He tugs, lets the garter of the skirt loosen and fall off your hips on its own. “Red.”

“You take too long,” you groan.

“You’re just eager,” he laughs, thumbing at your clothed cunt.

You’re so wet, evident even in the lazy circles he rubs over your entrance. You’re aching, desperate, begging almost. So he gives you what you want, maneuvers you onto his lap and pushes your (his) shirt up to stuff your mouth with it.

It won’t work for long, but it’s enough. He pushes your panties to the side and pulls his hard dick out. You’re sitting against it now, leaking slick onto it, at his mercy, branding his name and his number across your back. It’s hot. 

He stares at the way you rock softly against him, hungry eyes meeting yours. “You’re so pretty, baby. Ruined.”

“Fuck me already,” you say, voice throaty, innocent.

“Can you take it?” He asks, teasing you, slapping his dick against your clit softly. You whine.

“Please,” you insist. “I want it. Make it fit.”

He’s a massive tease with it, his breath fanning against your skin, hands sticky on where they’ve hiked your shirt up. He lowers you, slower, against the tip of his dick and he watches your eyes flutter when you sink onto it. After ages of waiting. Your grip’s like iron on his shoulders, moans leaving you in quiet bursts of pleasure. 

You’re far away, dumb from the feeling, you barely register the way he shoves the shirt back into your mouth to keep you quiet. “So fucking tight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. It’s muffled, barely intelligible. “For you.”

You’re only able to take it because you’re so wet, so turned on, face and brain filled with nothing but pleasure. He can’t take it.

“Mmmfh,” you say, muffled by the bite of cotton in your mouth. You’re sweaty, flushed, overstimulated—you don’t know where to focus. On his lips against your jaw, his hand on your neck, the way your pussy swallows his aching dick. “It’s so big, I—”

“You okay?” He asks, breathily. Smiling. He’s in control, but still he sounds whiny—almost, if not as desperate as you. “You’ll take it all for me, won’t you?” 

“Oh god,” is all you muster, letting him stretch you out even more, gushing all over his cock. “I, I—”

He moans, his grip tight against your waist, watching his dick bury itself in you. “You’re getting me so full,” you whine. “So deep, I feel it—” you taper off into a moan again when he presses hs thumb to your clit, distracting you from the stretch as he finally, finally bottoms out.

“Good?”

You nod. So good, give me more.

You grind against him, let the shirt fall out of your mouth. “You’re getting my dick so wet,” he comments, breathless. “So pretty for me, too.”

Growing antsy, he attempts to move, but you whine. Your turn to tease, you think, after he was a dick to you just now. “Not yet,” you say, lip caught between your teeth. His hands are tight around your waist. Desperate.

You squeeze around him, watch his brows knit together, a grunt leave him in a frustrated exhale. “You wanna fuck me?” You tease against his neck, blinking innocently.

“Yes,” he replies, not missing a beat. You pout, like you’re empathizing with the problem you’re causing; you grind slowly against him and he lets out a guttural fuuuuck. He’s so big, so hard—you can feel every inch of him inside you.

“Tell me again, Charles,” you say with a giggle. You’re so hot like this, face flushed and timid, hips moving slowly. He could cum just from the way you bite your lip, the way a whimper slips out of you when he hits the right spot.

“—Yeah,” he says, sweetly. “I want to—please, let me fuck you. C’mon, baby, can I?”

“Aww,” you tease. 

“Can I?” He asks again, voice deep and thin with the need to fuck you, thrust up into you and make you the dumb one. His face is flushed and desperate. “Can I move, baby? Let me, please.”

You’re not stupid. You know—if his flushed, pleading face and big green puppy eyes are anything to go by—that he’s going crazy, growing antsy. But you’re not complaining.

“Hmm,” you say, feigning genuine thought. “I don’t know, Charles. Feels good just like this. And you want to make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Yeah.” You repeat, staring into his dark eyes. He’s frustrated, desperate, flushed all over and sweaty. His fingers dig into your hips. “I’ll make you feel really good, baby, if you let me.”

“Go ahead,” you say softly, “fuck me, please.” And he’s thrusting upwards to meet you halfway. It’s knocking you out, almost, the pleasure of it, the dizzy onslaught of euphoria. He’s stretching you out so well, whining softly into your neck and yeah, you two have waited far too long to have this. You 

“Fuck,” he grunts, lids squeezed shut and head rolled onto your shoulder. “Go on, baby, ride it, make me cum.” He cups your jaw, reaches his thumb into your mouth. It’s too much, all of it. He makes you suck on it while thrusting up, dizzying you with his cock.

He grabs handfuls of your ass, teases his thumb at your tighter asshole just to watch your eyes flutter, feel your cunt grow wetter. “I’ll fuck you even fuller next time,” he says; the implication gets you hot.

You bounce harder, chasing release as his thumb teases over your ass, the tip of it just thrusting in enough to elicit strings of moans out of you. “Come on, ride me,” he goads. “So good for me.”

“Fuck,” you pant, “cum in me, please.”

You cum first, writhing around him and riding your orgasm out in lazy grinds over his hard cock. You want to see him cum, see his eyebrows knit and his mouth release pretty whines, feel him claim you inside, hands hot and heavy on your ass. He does, with a guttural fuuuuck, shoving his dick up in you to the base and spurting all his cum in you.

He thrusts, watches his cum leak out of you, fucks it back in, in a vicious cycle. You shiver, blinking coquettishly and watching along—and then you’re both crumpling over each other on the bed behind you. You pant heavily against his chest.

“Hey.” He muses out loud, drumming against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“I have thirty-six condoms we need to go through. Wanna go on a date?”

[zapernz]

Thinking about punishing whiny sub ani by putting your hand around his cock and not moving it, telling him that if he wants to cum he has to fuck your fist himself and he's so embarrassed and horny that he starts crying 👀

after dark

a/n; hello hello long time no see, sorry this is kinda shit :,) i wanted to get something out though, much love

sub!anakin x dom!reader

nsfw; humiliation, handcuffs, petnames, praise, handjob (???)

fully naked and vulnerable, hands cuffed to the headboard and squirming under your intense gaze from above him, anakin found himself in quite the humiliating situation.

“please- cmon i’ve been good” he whines.

liar, lying straight through his teeth.

“thats what you think good behaviour is? being a whore and begging me to jerk you off in a random alleyway?while on a mission?” you seethe. anyone could’ve seen the two of you and how he was practically rutting against you like a bitch in heat, in broad daylight.

he turns a dark shade of red, he opens and closes his mouth but no words are able to form, he knows he fucked up, but hes hard and you’re hot and not touching his dick and he’s getting impatient.

he tugs on the cuffs, groaning as the metal sinks into his wrists. “im sorry! please im really sorry- i just need you so bad- please!”

rolling your eyes and sighing you walk to the side of the bed sitting lazily next to the flushed boy next to you. you wrap your hand around his aching dick accompanied by a whimper. but you dont move your hand. so he waits, but you still don’t move your hand. he looks at you confused, tears of frustration welling in his eyes.

you use your other hand to wipe the tears off his cheeks, “you wanna cum really bad huh?” you say sympathetically. he sniffs and nods his head humming in agreement.

“you get to set the pace for this one” you say as you tap his hip bone.

he looks at you dumbfounded, “you want me to-“

“fuck my fist? yes anakin i do.” you interrupt him

the tears start to fall unapologetically, tears falling down his rosy cheeks. “baby hey look at me” his eyes look deep into yours, “you wanna be a good boy yeah?” reminding him of his promise to you earlier. he nods slowly, glassy eyes looking at you for a drop of approval.

“show me how good you can be, baby”

[smuttyhoneyposts]

Hiii! I was just wondering if you can do a Gonta x reader smut, or no smut is fine! Lovely to see ya again, thank you! <3

Will do! Keep in mind this is pure smut no story 😭👍❤️

————————————————————————

Rough, but gentle…

Gonta X Fem! Reader Smut

⚠️MINORS DO NOT INTERACT⚠️

“Is this…is this g-good y/n? G-gonta-hah~ not hurting you?” Your giant boyfriend was currently leaning above you, currently trying so hard not to thrust into you. Which was proving to be very difficult to his now understanding.

Meanwhile you were below him, your breasts out on display in front of him and your torso was arched slightly due to the pressure in your regions. You let out a muffled moan and you grip the sheets lightly at the feeling of his cock filling you up. Goodness, if you knew his dick was this big you should have thought this through better.

But fuuuck, you’d be lying if you said this didn’t feel so good.

Gonta looks down at you his nervous but flushed expression, admired how you looked. Flushed face, arched back, hair sprawled out on the pillow as you pant quietly. A line of heat rushed from his face straight to his cock, which twitched unexpectedly. You gasp lightly and he eeps and goes stiff.

“Gonta s-sorry! are you-“

“Im..okay..just..move..but slowl-yyeeahh!?”

You suddenly moan out as Gonta moves his hips back, taking his cock almost out of you. Your eyes rolled slightly , you whine out his name so loudly Gonta let out a strangled grunt. He looked to you again “Gonta..s-sorry..but..hah-Gonta no can hold I-it, y/n..”. You whimpered as he sinks back into you, ‘How the hell does he know what he’s doing?’ You think as to tilt your head to the side in bliss as he moves again, but almost stops. He’s worried, you could tell. You look up at him, he’s panting lightly and gritting his teeth semi-tightly.

Your hands rub his forearm and he peeks at you, his now nervous expression present. You let out a breath and let out one final sentence to him.

“Let go baby..please..”

After you say this his hips move back and his eyes shut while he whines and pushes forward. Again, again, again, his thrusts become deeper. You grip the bed again with his movements, you let out praises, but very shaky ones. Ones that he still enjoyed even in his own blissed out state.

“K-keep going Gonta~!”

“There, please there~”

“Fuuck, Gonta~!”

You arch your back into his chest and he lets out a moan, calling for you, his hands roaming your body in an attempt to feel you more. Fuck, this was just heavenly to him, the way you squeezed his cock with your walls was so new. And so very lewd…he had no complaints. His hips move more quickly, his panting gets louder and louder, his grip on your hips tightens and you whine at the pressure. You take another glance at him, your eyes almost going lower to the rapidly disappearing cock going in you. His expression is almost makes you cum, the site of his glasses and his hair draping due to the sweat on his body. It’s almost like you were caged, his grip keeping you down, his hair preventing you from seeing anything around you, only his face and chest.

God, this was all so much. You buck into his thrusts in an attempt to get him deeper than he already was. He let out a whine and stared at your contorting expression with the growing feeling in him. He didn’t know what it was but it just felt so..good, it made him feel messy but he didn’t want to stop, everything you were doing seemed to fuel this.

“Fuuck!~ harder Gonta please~ oh my-I want you to go d-deeper!”

“Y/n, gonta no want to-hah~”

The last bit of decency was starting to leave him. He subconsciously felt himself following your order. Though he looked unsure his hand held your leg up and spread you opened more for his cock, making you mewl out in pleasure. Your hands go to grip his muscles, feeling them flex with his movements as you lean over slightly to watch his cock once more. The sight was almost hypnotizing, such a big thing in you, making you feel this sensation over and over again. You could feel yourself slipping away from reality as you now notice the small but very noticeably growing feeling of your climax. Gonta let out loud pants and grunts from his own movements.

“F-uck! Gonta, baby you’re gonna make me-~!”

You got cut off as Gonta thrust in you in an angle that had you shaking, frantically reaching your end.

“Gonta feels it!~ Gonta no want to..stop~!” He moans out as his eyes, full of lust, stares at you.

You grip the sheet and arch your back again and moan out his name loudly. The angle of his cock hits you again and again with violent vigour. You see stares you moan his name and grasp onto his arms. You lean in and kiss him, he kiss back letting hot gasp in between, his hips still going. Still recovering from the post orgasm state you were in you break the kiss and see his desperation, fuck he was close. You whine and go to whisper in your lovers ear, his cock slamming in you so deep it’s almost hard to say your last words to him before he loses it.

“Cum for me Gonta baby, please~ cum for me baby.” You mewl. He groans loudly and puts his hand to lift you slightly to a heavenly angle. His face desperate and needing, it looked so cute.

Both of you let out a call of your names, both holding each other in embrace as he cums in you.

[nisimultifandom]

dark!Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings- MDNI, dark content, power imbalance, mean!rafe, slapping

A/N - finally back, enjoy

——————————————————————————

You were laying in bed when Rafe came storming through the door with Papers in his hand, you couldn’t tell by his face whether it was good or bad news.

,,here” you looked at the papers which he threw on his bed with a confused look, you would need more Information than that, but fortunately he got the hint before you had to say anything

,,These are enrollement papers, i want you to go to school in Tanneyhill”

You were silent for a while, trying to gather up the right words to use without ticking him off, his face was rather stern but there wasn’t much of any emotion, he just waited for your response with his hands on his hips, which made him look more intimidating than he already was

,,But I already go to school on the other side of town, I have all my friends there and I’m happy with it” Rafe got more serious at that, also gathering his words before exploding too fast

,,You go to a pogue school, with pogues, this is a private school for people who will get something from life”

You frowned at that, feeling yourself get a little bit angry, Rafe not only insulted your friends but your family too

,,Rafe, everyone in my Family went to that school, went off to college and made something of themselves, I can’t believe you would say such things" you took a quick breath ,,I don't wanna switch schools"

A mocking grin appeared on his face at that ,,Im sorry i don't recall asking you, i'm telling you, you're changing schools"

you stood up from the bad wanting to be at the same length as him, knowing it would easier to get to you if you're lying down. He frowned at that before licking his teeth, knowing you were about to challenge him

,,And I’m telling you that I’m not changing schools, and you’re not in the position to deci-“ he grabbed you chin before you got to finish the sentence, taking all bravery out of you ,,Y/n…I don’t think you don’t know what position you’re in in this relationship”

,,Do I need to remind you?” You contemplated if a busted lip was worth the trouble and…,,Oh please, big bad Kook prince, show me what you got, it’s all you’ve ever known” his breath flared at that, his blue eyes now a darker shade an you knew if you didn’t stop it wouldn’t end good for you

,,Y/n” he states ,,you’re just scared that if I don’t switch school I’ll end up fucking a pogue” you weren’t schocked when you found yourself on the ground, with a piercing pain in your cheek

,,You disrespectful slut, I thought of doing you a favour didn’t know you had it in you to actually fuck some pogue” you let out a cry when he grabbed the back of your head ,,stand up” your body was working against you but your brain was trying to help you think straight

,,I said stand up” he shook you up by your ponytail, finally finding the strength to stand up, but too late as he already had other plans when he kicked the back of your legs, making you fall to your knees

,,can’t even follow some orders I see, do I need to remind you of your place?” You shook your head no, trying not to disturb his mood ,,answer when I’m talking to you”

,,No Rafe, I-I think I learned my lesson” he swiped the tears from your cheek, smirking down at you ,,You think?”

,,I know I did, I’m sorry”

,,Good, cause next time I won’t be as nice” he whispers in your ear

,,Why do you need to control everything?“ you ask looking up at him through the hair stuck to your face

,,Because you and I both know who makes the money, who takes care of everything“ he goes on ,,If not for me you wouldn’t even survive this fucked up world“ you were shocked at his words, the only person he should be protecting you from, is himself

,,I don’t need a full time babysitter, I’ve been doing just fine on my own” you let out through gritted teeth , Rafe let’s out a groan at that

,,I would advice you to shut the fuck up before I do something I regret” he shouts at you, taking a hold of your hair again, making you let out a pained sob. You try to find comfort in him, by taking a hold of his thighs, at that he raises an eyebrow

,,I-I’m sorry, let’s just stop fighting” trying to gather your words through the pain in your throat was harder than anticipated, the corner of his lip forms a smirk and he’s picking you up from the ground to put his arms around you

,,Stupid girl, next time I tell you to do something, don’t fix your lips to disagree me,got it?” You nod, stuffing your wet face in his polo shirt. Trying to stand up to Rafe was a mistake, one that shouldn’t be repeated again, but if you ever felt rebellious again he would make sure to remind you where you really stand.

[sucker4sixx]

Raising hell

Pt.1

PLOT: your rival and you get alittle.. honest

WARNING: body shaming, drug misuse

your band ‘the holy marys’ and ‘mötley crüe’ were well known rival bands, touring with a heap of other bands in a world glam rock tour. the crüe were always placed closer to your band with dressing rooms and plane seats, the managers clearly wanting some fued and more publicity

one night you bump into nikki on your way to your dressing room, he growls down at you and keeps walking with his bass. you always found him sexy but kept it to yourself.

later on when both of your bands had played nikki bust into your room, looking at you as you take off your makeup with a slight sneer in his expression “what? What do you want?” You throw down your makeup wipe, his presence pissing you off “wanted to see how ugly you really are without all that makeup” he smirks and walks closer, his muscular arms placing outside of yours, cornering you where you sat “fucking hideous”. You groan and narrow your eyes at him “your no better, sixx. You only get pussy because your famous not because your “hot”” you lie through your teeth knowing hes the most gorgeous man youve ever seen but he sure was a dick. “Lying isnt a good look on you but.. then again youve not got a good look on you. Loud, rude, annoying and.. well..” he looks down at your belly and you raise your voice “get out my room!” He laughs knowing hes got to you and ruffles your hair roughly, leaving.

The next night before the show your standing at the side of the stage, waiting untill you get called on when you catch nikki, hes sitting on one of the many seats that lay idle, his eyes glued to your body as his foot bounces. You stare for awhile untill his singer approaches him, shoving him playfully, nikki meets your eyes just as you get called to the stage.

Afterwards you walk off, sweaty and hyped up, you walk straight to the backstage bar where the workers and other bands sit and drink, nikkis sitting with a glass of whiskey, a pretty little fan on his lap yapping while he just smiles and nods, as soon as he sees you he places her down and walks to you “hey fatty” he smiles wide, wanting to get under your skin but you just walk by him, he follows you to the bar “well? Nothing?” He asks, leaning on the sticky bar beside you “one, im not fat and two i just had a good show and im not letting you ruin my mood” you dont look at him, mouthing thank you to the bartender who passed you your jack n coke. “Well.. maybe your not fat but you sure have a belly” he pokes it, a genuine smile spreading feeling the squishy skin “dont touch me” you snap back, slapping his hand “someones on their period” vince, the singer of nikkis band says from the other side of you, causing nikki to laugh. “You are both asses” you say, leaving to your dressing room.

That night the bands get together and go to the local club, its bouncing with dance music and stinking of sweat and weed, you get pretty drunk and your too busy dancing to notice nikki standing infront of you “nice moves, sweetheart” he laughs and your eyes open “why are you always around? Why dont you ever go away?!” He laughs, rolling his eyes “well, im like a disease honey.. ill never go away” he grins, grabbing a baggy of white powder from his pocket “but now.. im going away” you quickly grab his arm “well.. maybe, i could join you?” You say, hoping he will let you have a bit of his cocaine. He smiles wolfishly and drags you to the toilets.

Nikki hunches over the bathroom sink as he lays out lines, his hands moving like muscle memory to make the lines perfect. He takes the first line and pinches his nose, stepping back as he smacks your ass to move you forward “dont-“ you cut yourself off, warning him not to touch your ass. After a few lines each you both sit opposite from eachother on the floor of the toilet. “Good shit isnt it?” He mutters, trying to make conversation, when you dont awnser he tilts his head. “Why do you hate me?” He speaks genuinely, catching you off guard. “Well, your mean and you love to pick on me” you raise your eyebrow, he gives you too many reasons to hate you yet cant understand why you do. “I guess i do.. your not too nice yourself” he smirks and crawls over to you, sitting beside you. Theres a silence and he glances to you, his eyes alittle red from the alcohol and drugs. “Can we be serious? Just for a second?” He slurs alittle, you nod, curious “i dont really hate you.. maybe i envy you alittle, your so.. fucking cool” you raise your eyebrow and he goes alittle red, feeling embarrassed “your fucking with me.. and i dont appreciate it” you laugh alittle, scanning his face, seeing a genuine look “right?..” nikki groans and leaps forward, attacking your mouth in a bruising kiss, his hand holding your cheek.

You move your body onto his lap, moving away with a look on uncertainty. He pauses and his hand slide up your outer thighs slowly “this isnt right but it feels so god damn good” he says in confusion “your fucking with me.. i cant eat or sleep without thinking about you” he pulls you in for a hungry kiss again, biting your bottom lip as you moan into his mouth “you need this.. tell me you need this, tell me you feel it” he says desperately. “I… i need it.. i need it nikki” nikki leads your back onto the floor and you laugh “not here.. take me back to your hotel”

You both escape the party and run back to the hotel, you reach his hotel room and a womans waiting on nikki, she smirks and walks over to him, offering him a fuck, he lets go of your hand and places his hand on her hip, thinking about the offer. You stand in shock, he just said he was going to fuck you, what the fuck is he doiqng? What happened to all those nice things he said? “Go ahead.. fuck her then!” You shout in a drunken rage, storming to your hotel room, he doesn’t even look back at you, taking the woman to his room.

[insect-library]

Little Angel☆

Chapter 2!

Little!angel x cg!husk

Notes: sorry its taken a bit, ive been a little unmotivated butttt i got this donnneeee. Anyways tell me if yall notice anything i messed up with here lolll

Word count: around 500?? Its shorter bc i was tired loll

Itd been around a week since angel had his mini breakdown, and talked to husk about agere. He hadnt fully endulged in the habit yet, only occasionally letting himself regress to calm down. He did truly want to try it as a full thing, but didnt know how to start. He started to think about this right as he walked into work, finding val and his coworkers looking at him.

"Where the fuck have you been?!"

Valentino yelled, he was definitely already pissed off. And angel probably just made it so much worse.

"I got stopped on my way here! Some asshole wanted a picture."

Angel was lying through his teeth, and hoping val couldnt tell, though he knew it wouldnt matter.

Val yelled until they were already late to start filming, and the work night went on as usual. Which just happened to be horribly.

Angel finally got to go home, tired and stressed. He decided this was the time to start this age regression thing seriously, and see if it helped at all when done on purpose.

"Im homee!" Angel yelled, knowing nobody was up. It was late, and they all most likely had work waiting for them in the morning.

"Angel?"

Husk walked slowly and sleepily out of his room, into the main front room of the hotel.

"Oh.. uh.. i didnt know youd be up."

Angel was caught off guard by him, but not upset. He needed him anyways.

"Hey uh.. husk. Would you do me a favor?"

Angel was nervous, but this was needed.

"Yknow that regression thing ya talked about? Could you.. help me get into that a bit more?" Angel sat for a second, shaking out of anxiety

"Of course you dont have to if you-"

"I wouldnt mind it."

Husk interrupted what he knew would spiral into apologies for no good reason, he was eager to help, he didnt need convincing.

Angel sat confused for a second, he didnt know what to expect but it sure wasnt such a quick answer.

"Urh uh.. okay! We could uhh.. hang out. And play.. with my stuffies.."

Angel was trying his best to get his words out without stuttering or shaking too horribly.

After getting into angels room, he headed straight to his pile of stuffed animals and immediately calmed down. He felt his anxiety leave for a minute, a calming, amazing feeling that he was only just now getting used to. He tried to get words out about his stuffies and their names to husk, but all that came out was happy laughter and little squeals.

Husk was shocked to see him like this, not in a bad way, he loved seeing angel so happy. It gave him comfort knowing angel had a way to decompress when it was needed.

Angel didnt see any problems in this moment. All he saw was his closest friend and his wonderful stuffies, he knew he was safe and he could open up. He finally gave up his doubt about his regression, and knew he was safe.

[burninlovebutler]

Worship

pairing: austin x fem!reader - word count: 2.2k

warnings: obsessive-possesive!austin, breakup hookup??, oral (f recieving), squirting, alcohol/drunkenness, coercion?, hints at emotional manipulation (no details or descriptions included), 18+, MDNI

summary: you’re awoken by a knock at your door way past midnight. you find your ‘crazy’ ex, the one you almost placed a restraining order against, begging for a second chance. you decide to take advantage of the situation and give in to his wish to worship you.

see masterlist for the rest of my fics💗

this is my (late as fuck) secret santa fic for @foreverdolly - i'm not sure if this exactly what you wanted but since it was kinda out of my wheelhouse of abilities 😅 bc of that i’m not the most confident so pls don’t judge my writing 🫣🫣 i love you dolly, merry (late) christmas 🥰 im so sorry this is so late & sorry you got shitty me for secret santa, you talented goddess lol - also sorry it was already written very christmas-y bc it was intended to go up before christmas 😭

“loving you is a losing game”

You were fast asleep when jarring abrupt knocking fell over the air in your house. Groggy and confused you turned over and fumbled to unlock your phone to check the doorbell security camera. There stood your obviously unwell ex behind fuzzy camera quality.

Once your sheets were reluctantly pulled from yourself, a coarse chill ran over your skin reminding you just how little you had on, prompting you to pull a silk robe over your night slip. You shuffled across the cold tiles and stood up on your tippy toes to double check that it was actually Austin and not just some random creep.

You sighed as soon as the open door revealed the disheveled, clearly unkempt man. Deep dark bags lined his droopy glossed eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here Austin?”

“Where is he?” He slurred accusingly, hand motions erratic but laggy.

“What the hell are you talking about-“ He rudely pushed past you and through the front door. Your fingertips dug into your now aching temples, it was going to be one of those nights. It was on those nights in which the idea of a restraining order was heavily entertained.

A foot helped propel you forward from the door and pace behind him as he hastily peaked into every room. “Where is he, I know he’s here.”

“Is who here?” You groaned at his dramatics.

He spun to face you, brows lowered, and eyes tainted with jealousy, “Oh don’t play dumb darlin’.” With every step forward he took you copied in the opposite direction. “I know your little boyfriend is here.” He hissed.

An uptick in your already rapid heartrate made you wonder which one of your ‘friends’ ratted you out. You went on one date and never spoke again, but you knew that if the information had reached Austin, he’d react… well, exactly like this.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lying straight through your teeth as you analyzed the anger swirling in his eyes.

“Don’t ya think we’re past this? Where is he y/n.” He squinted down at you, voice deep and rumbly.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “He’s not here Aus, he’s not my boyfriend. Can you please just fucking leave?” Dropping an arm to your side.

“Are you serious? You really think I’m stupid enough to-” His words slurring together. “You think I’m dumb enough to believe your ‘boyfriend’ wouldn’t be here on Christmas eve?”

“It-“ Suddenly, the realization that the holiday indeed was tomorrow. Between the breakup, the fighting and the holiday rush at your job, you must’ve been in autopilot and the days strung together. Your eyes fell at the dawning awareness of a lonely Christmas. “No, he’s not here Austin.”

His gaze softened perhaps he was finally believing you. He stepped back and took in your home, seemingly searching for something, probably for any hint of holiday decorations. “He’s really not here? On Christmas?”

You scratched the back of your opposite arm and the previous pride of ‘doing better than your ex’ faded. Maybe you were almost as sad and pathetic as him.

“No. And I don’t want him here. We aren’t together. And I just want to be fucking alone, please leave.” You plead once more through the strain in your voice.

“But Christmas is your favorite?” He questioned softly, a stark contrast to the raging asshole that had stormed in. But that’s exactly what got you here in the first place wasn’t it? One minute he’d be cruel and the next he was the sweetest man you’d ever met. In those moments that’s what you’d cling to, convincing yourself he did love you.

You sighed, “Yes, but- I just haven’t been in the Christmas-y mood, okay?”

His hands slid down the back of your arms, sending a chill through your veins, “Well I don’t think my darlin’ should be lonely on her favorite holiday.”

You wanted to rip from his grasp, but it was like your body was refusing to listen, “I’m not your darlin’, I’m not your baby.” The terror of what your words would instigate caused every muscle tense beneath his grasp.

But he stayed calm, even when your back landed on the wall behind you. “Sure ya are,” He looked down at you with such a softness in his eyes, you’d think he was observing a delicate marble statue. “You’ll always be my darlin’.”

You exhaled at his sugar-y sweet words that always seemed to break through your walls. “Aus- please you know that isn’t true, we’re over. We’ve been over.”

“Just because we’re over doesn’t mean you’re not mine.” His hushed voice almost hid the prevalent slur of his words.

You squeezed your eyes closed. Maybe if you couldn’t look at him, he’d have no power over you. “Yes, Austin, it does.” Every bit of self-control aided you in a futile attempt at pushing him off you. He only pressed up against you further, flattening you against the wall. Wandering hands made their way across your silk-covered sides, taking their time to absorb every inch of you.

“I miss you every fucking day baby.” He whispered pressing his forehead against your own. “All I ever fucking think about is you.”

His claims made your tummy spin and flip like a washing machine, but you knew you shouldn’t give in. He wasn’t good to you, no matter how special he made you feel. “Austin please-“

“Darlin’,” His tone still in a low rumble, “Just let me fucking worship you. All I want is you, all I’ve ever wanted is you.” He pulled back just a bit and hooked an index beneath your jaw, “Look at me - I’m a goddamn mess without you. I can’t survive one more day without you.”

“Austin please, you can’t be fucking showing up here just because you think I’m seeing someone new.” You snapped, your arm flung out, emphasizing the statement.

“I fucking knew this was about him,” The lines around his eyes made themselves prevalent as he narrowed his eyes on you like prey, his demeanor shifting yet again.

“Augh there is no him Austin I-“ A stronger attempt at escape was met with an even firmer grip on your arms, keeping you in place. “You’re fucking delusional, that is why we didn’t work out. You are the reason we aren’t together.” The words spilled from your lips before you could stop them. The twist of Austin’s already scrunched face indicated that you’d made a grave mistake.

His fingertips dung into your biceps, anger piped in him. You could see his restraint churn behind menacing cobalt eyes. He wouldn’t get mean though, not when he was after something. That exact realization must’ve hit him when his digits softened on your skin. “Baby please.” His forehead pressed against yours again and kept his gaze on you. “Let me give you a Christmas present, let me be here for you, let me worship you.”

You processed his words, running a tongue between your lips. A sliver of confidence glimmered in the pit of your stomach. He was there, he wanted something, he hurt you and you wanted control of it. “Beg then.” You straightened up and balled up your fists at your sides to feign assertion.

A wash of surprise and confusion covered his face, obviously not expecting your rebuttal. “What?” He stuttered.

“You heard me.” Clearing your throat. “If that’s what you want. Beg for it.” You propped up a brow and looked over him like he was nothing but a conquest.

Much to your surprise it only took that much for him to give in. Without another word, he lowered down to just below your ear, starting with a simple kiss. Then another, his plump lips taking their time in claiming ownership of your neck. “I love you.” He whispered softly before pulling your skin into his lips with a suck. Your eyes fluttered closed at his touch, his attentive kisses always made you weak, trickling a pulse down between your legs. “I’ll always love you darlin’.” Now making his way to your collarbones, leaving a trail of dark purple marks behind. Any other day this would’ve made you furious, leaving proof of him on your body for everyone to see but tonight, you couldn’t argue with the throbbing in your core.

A part of you wanted to reciprocate his claims of love but the words refused to leave your mouth. You were ripped from the tumbling thoughts when his kisses landed on your hardened nipple under your night slip, every kiss so delicate, so intentional. “Austin-“ His tongue ran over the covered nub causing a sharp gasp to slip from your throat.

“I love you.” He repeated. “Please let me show you.”

Every single cell in your body was on fire and begging you to touch him, feel him, kiss him, hold him but he had atonement to pay. You stayed completely still and silent as he drifted down your body and before you knew it, he was on his knees before you, looking up with big sky blue eyes. “Baby please.” His hands trailing up the backside of your legs, goosebumps following his touch. “I’m literally on my knees for you, let me love you. Let me show you how much.” He always had a knack of perfecting the puppy dog eyes that made you weak to any demand.

Following his previous actions, his lips started at your knee and trailed their way up. The sheer proximity of his lips and fingers to your pussy was driving you mad and had you leaking into your panties. His fingers delicately pushed the slip up above your hips, taking a moment to take you in, his gaze trailing up from your core to your expectant eyes. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” A sloppy kiss to your hipbone and a curl of his fingers into your thighs, easily spreading them apart. “You’re a goddess, let me worship you.” His eyes locked on yours when his lips reached your panty-covered center, pressing a soft kiss just over your throbbing clit. And that was it, how could you possibly stop him. You gave a quick nod signaling him the green light.

Without hesitation, his finger hooked onto your thin panties and tugged them aside, slowly sliding between your folds. A rumble came from his chest once he tasted you.

“Fuck.” You breathed out, resting your head on the wall behind you. His tongue continued its plight, swirling over your nub, starting a pit in your stomach. “Aust.”

Your responses had no effect on his actions, only fueling him. His tongue flattening between your lips, rounding your clit and finding its way into your dripping entrance. He ate you like a gourmet meal, savoring every taste. Your hand slithered its way down, tangling into his soft golden locks pushing him further where you needed him.

A slight yelp escaped when in one fail swoop he managed to prop your thighs on his shoulder and around his head, his tongue never leaving your heat. You were glued to the wall, only his shoulders and arms keeping you suspended. You were concerned with your weight on him, but he didn’t seem to struggle, effortlessly holding you in place as he devoured you.

Austin looked up wanting to fully immerse himself in what he was doing to you, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the living room as you melted in his mouth. Your hips rolled into his tongue as it tended to your swollen clit. “Fuck Austin.” You breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut and lulling your head back taking in each delicious moment. “Fuck Aus I’m gonna cum.”

He replied only with his blues locking on you more determined than ever, quickening his actions ever so slightly to help you cross your finish line. You began to unravel when his tongue rolled precisely against your pulsing clit causing your grip in his hair to tighten, letting out a loud moan. It was like every bit of anger and resentment channeled into the guttural screams that left your mouth as blinding euphoria washed over you. The orgasm seemed to last longer than normal, and you felt yourself release into his mouth. Immediately embarrassed by an action you had no idea you could achieve thinking he might be disgusted but when you looked down, his stare even more ravenous than before. He drank every last drop of you insatiably, lapping your cum from your core.

Finally, when he could tell you were spent, he gently pulled off you and carefully set you down on your now wobbly legs. “Fuck.” You breathed out in a pant, pressing your hand against the wall for stability. “I did miss that.”

Austin stood up and gave a small grin, “I could tell.” Wiping the remnants of you off his mouth.

In a natural reflex you went to hook fingers into his jeans to return the favor, but he stopped your wrist, “No.” He said simply. It was confusing, how did your ex-boyfriend show up to your house in the middle of the night claiming to miss you so much, eat you out and then stop you from reciprocating?

With his dry hand he tilted your chin up by his knuckle, “I wanted to worship you remember? This isn’t about me.”

“But I-“ You began before he cut you off.

“That was as much a Christmas gift for you as it was for me, okay?” He reassured softly. “I don’t need you to anything for me, I just wanted to take care of you. I missed the way you taste.” He nudged his nose against yours, “I missed you.”

His words twisted your stomach, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him too. “Ditto.” You replied quietly, bringing timid fingers up to his cheek and meeting his eyes. “Thanks for my present.”

And with a hum he placed a tender kiss on your lips, “Of course. I love you.”

An internal battle ensued at how you felt about that statement, but something told you maybe this Christmas wouldn’t turn out so bad after all.

-

taglist: @lindszeppelin @powerofelvis @cryingabtab @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @ab4eva @infatuatedharleys @navsblog @feverdreamcaoilainn @pennyroyalcreep

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thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fic, Forever Winter, a read - if you like slow burn angsty sad smut you’ll probably like it lol xx

[fagsex]

i had been too scared for years to check up on this really shitty thing from when i was a kid because his name his face the building they all made me nauseous and i knew if there was any justice at all it would be too little. i researched it today and turns out i was right. fucking scum got let go and all charges dropped for lack of competency. should that not speak more? when he was initially charged, it was on cnn, usatoday, cbc, covered so much that ive had friends ive made over the years in different states tell me they heard about him. ive found news articles in french about him. and yet not a word from any source outside of local about how he got fully away with it.

this is a weird thing for me to be randomly rambling about but sometimes it just hits me what happened. dr howard schneider of jacksonville florida, the only pediatric dentist to take medicaid in the largest city by area in the fucking continental united states, tortured, not exaggeration, tortured children for 30 years. at least.

when i say im afraid of dentists, im testy around dentistry, and teeth, and so much related things to it, everyone brushes it off easily as a common fear. which is naturally how he got away with it for so long. we were children physically restrained with leather straps. the doors were locked, parents werent allowed to come back, at a pediatric dentist. there were patients with teeth they just got being ripped out of their heads. i was either never given anesthetic, or, on more than one occasion, given so much i violently threw up, while lying down, restrained. i was seven years old tied strapped down choking on my own vomit with a bubblegum gas going in my nose. i can still smell it.

cold air still makes me nauseous. gas masks make me anxious. i couldnt lie down or feel relaxed anywhere that wasnt my bedroom for years. i would be sent to the nurses office as a kid, and refuse to lie down, because i felt like if i did, pain would begin. i would go in for a checkup and leave with too tight, too wrong crowns, covering my teeth. often, my teeth were not inspected or cleaned beforehand, just straight in with the drill. adult clamps in a childs mouth because i was being 'a whiny brat'.

have you ever been to a dentists office, or any medical office whatsoever, where an entire wall was a mirror? i could see myself held down and put through hell. i was too scared to put anything in my mouth at home, it repulsed me, not to mention my gums, my cheeks, the roof of my mouth, tongue, everything hurt so bad. i figured out later it wasnt normal, he was slicing them with a scalpel, with a pick, anything and everything. he put a hole in my sisters cheek. my baby sister walked, toddled out of there with a hole in her cheek after her first check up. we still went back, we couldnt afford anyone else, and he kept telling us how much work my mouth needed. he kept trying to convince my parents i may need braces, but i had the straightest teeth my parents had ever seen.

my heart still drops when i hear a drill, any drill. certain smells make me feel like i cant speak or breathe. my own mother screamed at me for being dramatic, for complaining so much. she said itd only hurt if i didnt listen, and he said the same. he said id be in trouble, big trouble if i told, and i remember it clear as day. he put on a movie on the ceiling tv he bought with the money medicaid gave him for ripping our milk teeth out, and it was the same movie everytime. some people dont understand that even the silliest, oddest thing can scare you if it sticks. he put his hands on my neck several times to restrain me and keep me from moving, and had me stare at the ceiling, and as fucking lame as it sounds, i could not listen to jerry seinfelds voice or participate in any bee movie jokes that became en vogue in 2016 or so, because i was legitimately terrified.

my own mother would mock my fears of putting things in my mouth to clean them, saying that if i was actually scared, i'd want to clean my teeth more so i'd see him less. it wouldn't matter what i did. and a scared 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 year old doesn't have that logic. i was just a lazy kid with disgusting teeth who was scared of the dentist, to everyone. in late 2019, the crowns he gave me all exploded, and took my teeth with them. four, five of my teeth were slowly destroyed and chipped out of my mouth. and every day i had to feel that scraping again, the cutting up of my mouth, how it filled with blooded. i couldnt talk or eat, but my family saw that as a positive, and i was too ashamed to tell them my teeth broke in my mouth. i knew they would see it as a sign of how disgusting i was. to be in my teens, and already have teeth abandoning me.

the state of florida forgave this. over 100 parents and children presented stories like mine, and he was still forgiven. i dont have a reason for sharing this, not now, not really. its not a special date, nor recent news. i dont even have some message behind this, other than oversharing. it was not just him either. it was every adult who did not listen or care, i suppose. it was the nurses there too. it was the state, it was his attorneys and lawyers that he could use his millions on that he made putting patients off anesthetics in papoose boards.

he was never even charged with child abuse, but fraud. the money was the most important thing the law found. i didnt smile with my teeth for years, my sisters speech was delayed for years, i had panic attacks in the middle of the day in middle school over a cartoon bee, ive had to remove 4 shattered teeth from my head and have several other teeth reconstructed where he broke and did not fix them,i was blamed for all the dental problems that suddenly appeared in my mouth when i began going to him, ive been belittled my entire life for such a childish 'fear', and that was never in question. just the fact he took my teeth to make money, that he put me and thousands of poor children, in both senses of the adjective, through hell to charge medicaid.

anyway what the fuck right. im sorry i dont know why im writing this all out right now but it just feels so stuck inside me that itll burst from my chest if i dont write it out. its actually relaxed me quite a lot. if you live in florida or georgia and you see some old bitch who looks like this just feel free to get him on sight 🤙

[sunlightandsuffering]

Lys you don’t understand. Now I’m hungry for an Auntkasa drabble of Eren taking off her garter belt with his mouth

BABE STOP IT I MIGHT! im tryna gey my writing mojo back ! I think I like the idea of him convincing her to let him put it on.

It's lying innocently on the bed, just waiting to be put on, to be slid up those gorgeous legs of hers, soft and silky smooth, Eren would know, he's had them wrapped around his waist before, had his face crushed between those thighs, fuck. His breathing comes a little quicker, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he zeroes in on the white silk.

Mikasa follows his gaze curiously, and he watches in satisfaction as her cheeks heat up when she realizes what he's looking at. "It's tradition," She says by way of explanation, a hint of guilt in her tone and Eren could punch something, because yeah, it is tradition, one he's very familiar with, one that will end in her groom taking the garter off himself when it should be Eren doing it, preferably with his teeth." "You gonna throw it to me after?" He asks, hating the edge to his tone, how obvious he is in how much he hates this, "It's good luck after all, for all the single bachelors in the room. Maybe i'll get lucky, find my bride next." Mikasa's face tightens, her cheeks pinching up, full lips pressing into a thin line at the thought. "Maybe," is her callous response, "But isn't my husband supposed to throw it?" Eren shrugs, vibrating with nervous energy, unable to stay in place anymore. He walks to the bed, fingering the silk regretfully, it should be him, how he wishes it was him. He holds the delicate garment in his hand, conjuring the mental image of her slim leg encased in the silky circlet, rucked up high on her thigh, the most beautiful of garments for the most beautiful of women. It's such a delicate thing, meant to be taken off carefully, meant for the wearer to be worshipped properly. His grip on the fabric tightens, crushing the soft silk in his fist, because all he can think about is how unbelievably unfit Mikasa's groom is for the job. "Eren," Mikasa says his name softly, "Give it here." He sighs, deflating like a balloon, all the steam leaving him as he turns to her, so beautiful, barefaced and in a matching white slip, a strap hanging off the soft curve of her shoulder, the slit of her dress exposing a delicate sliver of thigh.

She's stunningly beautiful, just as she was that first day he saw her in Marco's kitchen, and even years later, more mature, he's still captivated, still in love. And Eren thinks that if he can't take off the garter, he might as well be the one to put it on, might as well worship her now before she belongs to someone else forever. "Let me do it," he murmurs, sinking to a kneel in front of her, large hands wrapping around her ankle. Mikasa gasps at the touch, her cheeks colouring pretty pink, all the way down to the full swells of her breasts, and fuck she's always been so reactive to him, even her nipples are hard, he can see it through her dress. It had been a cold slap to the face when he'd gone off to university, to find out that not all women were as beautifully responsive as Mikasa was. To learn that not everyone could cum from having their breasts worshipped alone, fuck.

"Eren," Mikasa tries to stop him, a hand coming up but he brushes her away, pulling her leg up high to rest on his shoulder.

"C'mon Miki," He kisses her ankle softly, "Just let me have this, you were my first evrything just let me have this." She sighs, a soft keening sound that goes straight to his dick as he trails his left hand up her thigh, the fabric of her dress slipping away like water, the slit parting for him to reveal miles of smooth milky skin. He brings the garter up, slipping it over the arch of her foot and she watches him through soft silver eyes, honeyed with lust, remniscent of the look she gets when he's inside her, all fucked out and sated with him.

He misses it, hasn't seen it in so long.

The delicate silk slips up her calf easily, and Eren traces his nose along the muscle, his fingers teasing as he lingers at her knee. It becomes harder for him to keep control as he pushes her dress farther up, when he trails over the creamy of her thighs and the silky garter begins to fit snug, finally pulled taught over her soft upper thigh. His cheek rests against her thigh and he inhales softly, the delicate scent of vanillla from hte body lotion, and he can't resist another kiss, just a little too high to be appropriate, a little too close to what he wants, barely covered by a thin layer of silk from her dress, hiding what he wants most. She tastes sweet, her skin salty and clean, freshly showered, dewy. He barely resists the urge to leave a hickey, to suckle at the sensitive skin so she'll make that sweet noise again, so her husband will realize she doesn't belong to him. As it is, Mikasa is breathing harshly above him, her manicured fingers clenched tightly around the arms of her chair, and Eren breathes out a sigh, ready to pull back. His breath teases along the edge of her cunt and Mikasa lets out a strained noise, a beautifully high pitched little keen, a hand slipping to knot in his hair. She looks down at him with desperate eyes, "Please." Without further question he noses his way up towards her cunt, the pretty pink slit he hasn't tasted in far too long, and already he aches for the flavour to have him writhing above him while he fucks her with his tongue. He unwraps her like a present, lovingly pulling her dress away to reveal soaked lace panties, barley concealing the glossy lips of her bare cunt and god is she ever pretty, even through her underwear. "Fuck Mikasa," he groans, and without further ado he spreads her legs wide, kissing her folds through her panties, suckling at her little bud and she cries out above him. She tastes just like he remembers, sweet, so, so sweet he could die between her thighs and he'd be a happy man. "All for me huh Mika?" "Always," she whispers desperately, and for that he pulls her panties to the side, finally becoming reacquainted with the delicate folds and fuck she's just like he remembers, the first pussy he ever tasted, the prettiest girl he's ever met. He buries his tongue between her folds, and is rewarded with plump thighs trapping him between her legs.

Eren is the happiest he's been in a long time, tonguefucking Mikasa in her dressing room barely an hour before her wedding, while bridesmaids run up and down the halls behidn them, and her groom gets ready to line up to await her.

He makes her orgasm a memorable one, whispering praise into her cunt, how he's missed it, how pretty she is, all the while he keeps one hand on that garter belt, pulled tight so she knows he's there, that it's him who put it on, that when her groom takes it off later it'll be him she's thinking about, her cunt soaked through her panties for him.

She's dazed afterwards, a dreamy slump on her chair and Eren takes special care to arrange her wet panties back over her cunt, leaving her with one last hot open-mouthed kiss right at the centre that has her whole body shiver. He pats her thigh lovingly, giving the garter one last gentle tug before he lets her dress fall to cover her up. She stares up at him with sleepy, delighted eyes and Eren can't help his smirk as he wipes his face off with the sleeve of his tux. He takes a step back, and he can't help but note how her legs are still quivering, she probably hasn't had an orgasm like that in a long time. "See you out there Miki." And then he does the second hardest thing he's ever done, he turns and leaves, for the second time in his life he walks away from the girl he loves, with hopes that maybe this time it'll end differently.

[unholydungeonoffilth]

Fantasies-1 (L&E)

He's come for a buisness meeting with me. I'm always indifferent to him, could care less type of attitude. He always has a playful tone and a cocky grin on his dumbass face. I'd be lying if I said I act the way I feel towards him.

I've seen him after mission's, in the showers more specifically. Our height difference is enough outside of the showers to peak my interest but that man seems to grow both vertically and horizontally.

He enters my office, less smug than usual, he almost seems serious.

"We need to discuss what happened on the mission today" He says dryly

"What about it?" I reply with an attitude.

"You are our captain, you cannot put yourself in deaths way every chance you get" He meets my eyes and I see a mix of anger and hurt even though his face doesn't show it.

"I'm still here aren't I? Do you doubt my abilities?" I lean forward in my chair meeting his eyes.

"You set the example-" His fist hits the desk, causing me to flinch "You are. showing these recruits its okay to just rush in and hope for the best"

I stand in defense "I do it because no one else can commander, or do you forget that" I look him up and down. I know it's a low blow to swipe at his short fallings but I'll be damned if he says i'm not capable.

With that were both stood, leaning over the desk from either side not breaking eye contact, we both look pissed, he looks like he might be debating actually starting a physical fight he must know I could definitely-

He's going to cry.

I notice his eyes have started to water. He reads that I see it and turns away walking back towards the door of my office before stopping and holding his head in one of his hands.

"what the fuck is this?" I ask him, very lost

"You cannot act out like that anymore. End of discussion" He reaches for the door

"Or what?" I ask walking to the front side of my desk, leaning against it crossing my arms. my words freeze him in place and he turns slow and calculated.

He assesses my stance and strides toward me, he slams a hand down on the desk next to me, he towers over me about a foot and a half, maybe two.

"Say that again" He spits through gritted teeth.

"...Or...What" I give him a shit eating grin like he does me.

Before I can react, he picks me up spins me around and slams me face down over the desk, I feel his large body press up against the back of me.

"You wanna be a fucking brat huh?" I couldn't escape if I wanted to. He's much stronger than me

"Why do you act out so much?" He leans over me and is now whispering in my ear "Why can't you be a good boy?" Those words send electricity through me. My cock twitching in my tight pants and harness. Then I feel it.

I can feel him growing against my ass, and I move to try to make room for my growing problem and he lets out a low growl/groan right in my ear. Thanks asshole, now my problems worse.

"I-" he starts to speak but stops and takes a deep breath, breathing hot promises of a good time if I let him win right into my ear.

"Can you get off me you overgrown horse? You're crushing me." I'm testing his bounds.

"I think you like it," he brings his right hand to grander my chin, the rest of his fingers wrap around my upper neck, stealing any smart ass remarks I had to say straight from my throat. "Don't you?"

Fuck. He's actually getting in my head, or more getting in my other head. Im actually debating going through with this.

"Maybe." I reply bluntly, he rewards me with a squeeze of the neck and a hip roll against my ass.

The two sensations clashing on my nervous system makes me gasp.

"That's right, you act all tough but you just need to be broken by the right one. I'm sure you love to be a good boy, you just need to let those walls fall down." His left hand grabs my waist, god his hand covers almost half my torso. Sometimes I forget how huge he is compared to me just looking at him. But right here, right now. It's truly daunting on me how colossal our difference is.

He presses me down into the desk with his chest, successfully pinning me and stars undoing my pants. I don't protest because I do want this but i'm too prideful to admit it.

"Let's get started hm puppy?" With that he's pulling out my cock, he wraps his hand around and goes nice and slow rubbing me off.

I groan out, I haven't had this type of 'help' in a while and I don't pleasure myself often enough. So this? This is heavenly.

"That's right pup, relax and just let me take care of you for tonight" He gives me cock a squeeze and continues moving. I can feel him against my ass, hard as a rock. His dick is huge, I can feel it resting between my ass cheeks and I swear it could touch my spine.

He starts to speed up, his right hand now entirely coving my throat slightly pulling back towards him to arch my back and cut off some airflow, making me feel light headed with pleasure and air deprivation.

"Fuck" I moan out, bucking my hips into his hand.

"Ah-ah," he slows down again "remember who's in control pup" He growls in my ear. "tell me who's in control." I can hear the grin in this phrase.

"Y-you" He rewards that answer with faster strokes, conditioning me slowly into eating out of the palm of his hand. I know this, i'm just too far gone into my headspace to care.

"And who am I?" He growls again, speeding up to pull the answer from my lips

"Alpha." I moan out

"Good boy" With that he stops completely, making me whine but before I can voice my complaints further, he's pulled my pants all the way down, leaving me exposed.

"You listen to me, you understand? Whatever I order you to do, you follow... like a good boy. Understand?" I can feel he's planning something but I don't know what, I want this to bad for it stop here.

"Yes sir" I let myself go, tell myself to enjoy the time with him and we can return to normal tomorrow.

Little did I know how wrong I was.

He slicks up his hand with baby oil from one of the cabinets behind us. He plunges two fingers into my ass with his right hand, leaving me to grip the desk helplessly. I moan out loudly and he takes this as a good sign to speed up. Left hand on my cock and the right pumping in and out of my ass. Once he believes I'm ready, I hear some shuffling and his tie is around my eyes now. I go to protest but I feel his cock at my entrance.

He genuinely is big, his head is larger than my entrance and he hasn't even started to press in yet.

"You said you'd be my good boy right?" He sounds uneasy

"Mm-hmm" I say still lost in the heat of the moment.

"Good, because I have some friends i'd like you to meet"

I then hear the door to my office clink open, footsteps, then I head the lock click. Before I know it he's pushing me up against the desk, my cock is angled down and my head is just reaching the other end of the desk.

"These boys need some help getting some stress out, and as your alpha I order you to help these gentlemen" I can hear snickering.

The worst park about this isn't the whole ganging aspect, it's the fact that these 'Gentlemen' are my cadets. Men I need to respect me. But fuck it.

"Yes, Sir" I choke out past my pride. I do know this helps elevate him as he's above me, so if they respect him and know I 'belong' to him maybe they won't fuck with me outside of this situation.

I hear some shuffling, if I had to guess there's about four of them maybe five. I don't think any of them could trump His size.

Suddenly He's pushing into me, causing me to moan out, as soon as my mouth opens a cock is pushed into it and someone grabs my hair, starting to face fuck me. My body feels like it's on fire, the need to be used like this, to not worry about controlling anything is something i've longed for and never asked for.

He starts to thrust in and out of my ass faster and the man face fucking me is already groaning like he's not going to last. Then I feel a mouth, soft and hot wrap around my cock and I almost lose it. This is something i've never had done to me. I've had sex plenty of times but never in my life have I gotten a blowjob.

So I have one fucking my face, one sucking my cock, and Him pounding into me. Bliss is the wrong word to describe what i'm feeling. It all feels like too much and somehow not enough. The groans and horn compliments feel the room.

"Fuck he can't take me so good in his mouth, he's barely gagging"

"Look at his ass, it's gorgeous"

"He's so tiny, I want to ruin him" This one comes from across the room, someone not actively servicing me and I feel the heat of everyones eyes on me, its making my skin burn.

I hear a "fuck" groaned right above me before the man fucking my mouth pulls me all the way to his hilt and he comes down my throat hard, I almost choke on his load. Hot thick and a lot of it but I push through and swallow. He pulls out and I gasp, I get about two breathes in before He flips me over on my back, ripping my cock out of the man under the desks mouth causing me to whine. I hear the weed real and suddenly there's someone on top of me. His cock is near my mouth and I feel him wrap his hands around the outside of my thighs, pulling them apart to watch Him fuck my ass. "Jesus he takes your huge cock so well"

"I know" I hear that grin again.

Suddenly, them man on top of me shoves his cock into my mouth and at the same time takes mine in his mouth.

Sixty-nine and getting fucked in the ass, bold move from this guy, I'd like to know who he is so I can find out if he can be this bold as a cadet.

He doesn't let me move on his cock, he's thrusting his hips into my mouth so I open my mouth, relax my throat best I can so he can literally fuck my face.

"You want to come good boy?" I suddenly hear in my ear, then I feel kisses on my neck, my shirt being ripped off, buttons flying and feel at least two sets of hands all over my body.

This does it in for me, I come hard into the mans mouth as the other two abuse my neck and nipples. The man on top of me thrusts hard and fast into my mouth before summing down my throat.

The attack on my neck and chest doesn't stop as the man removes himself from on top of me.

"Leave him to me boys" I hear from the corner of the room. Who the fuck is this guy? Because it's not the guy who's in my ass. Not my alpha and i'm surprised my alpha is letting him get away with this.

"What did you have in mind?" I hear my alpha ask the man. Are you kidding? He wouldn't leave me with someone random.

I hear footsteps move to my alpha and some slight whispering.

"I like that idea. Let's try it" My alpha responds.

For the first time tonight I think I might be...scared? and somehow horny at the same time.

I feel my alpha slow his thrusts and pull almost all the way out, before I can question what's going on I feel...another cock?! No fucking way

"Hey! I can barely take him what the Fuck do you think your doing?!" I struggle to move from under my alpha his hands holding my hips in place.

"Go ahead boys" My alpha says

The other men come to the desk and grab my arms holding me down. Oh fuck no, i'm not trying to get split in half.

"I swear to god I'll figure out who all of you are and have you fucking killed." No one budges.

I feel both heads at my entrance and they both start to push into me "F-F-Fuck! It Hurts!"

"Shhh puppy let us use you like the good slut you are" Alpha says

"Help him boys" The other man pushing into me says.

Then its back, someones cock is in my mouth again fucking my face rough, someones leaning over me and sucking my cock like their life depends on it and the others are holding me down with one their arms and using their others to pinch, twist and pull my nipples.

"mhm!" Is all I can muffle out through the cock in my mouth, the two cocks in my ass push further now that i'm completely helpless at stopping them, they both fight for room in my ass, one after the other going deeper. The pain and pleasure pierce my nervous system. I feel like i'm being impaled through the backside and floating in the clouds at the same time. The mix of pain and pleasure is too much, to unreal.

Suddenly the two in my ass are all the way in, I hear a mutter of something and they both pull out and slam into me. I scream out around the cock in my mouth and he takes that chance to shove it as far down my throat as he can to drown out my cries of pain and pleasure. The heat in my body is intense, I feel like i'm on fire with pain and embarrassment. It's all too much for me to take, the brutal slamming in my ass, the rough fucking in my mouth, the hands all over my body, abusing my nipples. I can't take it-

I wake up later, laying against my Alpha in a hot bath, full of bubbles and smells of lavender fill the room.

"Are you alright pup?" He asks sensing I'm awake.

"Yes" I say as I attempt to sit up

"No don't do that-" He grabs me around the waist and pulls me back, "don't worry, you have the next week off and trust me you'll need it" He chuckles deeply. He turns me around in his lap.

I look him in the eyes and only seen adoration.

"Thank you" I wrap my arms over his shoulders and lean my head on his chest "That was amazing"

"of course pup" He kisses my forehead, I look up at him and kiss him deep closing my eyes and drowning in him. He wraps his arms around my torso, pulling me closer.

Maybe this can be the start of something. We will see.

[ithisatanytime]

WAITIN 4 TONITE......

 the jews know whats food and what isnt, every “hack” in my toolbox i used to eat healthy REAL food was dismantled during covid, particularly eggs and ground beef, almost a decade ago when i lived in florida and was in very hard economic straights, i tried to cheat the system and gain healthy muscle weight using the common formula about protein over everything, i ate rice and beans daily for several months and im telling you this is not the fucking way, i was ILL, then i switched to whole eggs and hamburger, my budget was thirty dollars a week for groceries, seriously and even know when i shop i realized i have this limiter in mind, like im still on that 30 dollar a week budget in weird ways thats how long i was on it for its literally ingrained in my subconscious, but i learned that if i spent my thirty dollar food budget on eggs, hamburger, and either cheese and hamburger buns or spaghetti noodles and sauce, i would gain healthy weight, or at least maintain my weight, and feel great all on a budget. i hate five or so eggs for breakfast, followed by either spaghetti or hamburgers every single day for fucking YEARS, and what got hit hardest by the covid inflation? disproportionate to the rest of the groceries? fucking eggs and ground beef.

 now is that an ideal diet? absolutely fucking not, ground hamburger is a processed food and they get the fat content from god knows where on the cow, this will turn out to be of the utmost importance to our diet someday well figure out why it matters so much but im telling you it matters. while it wasnt ideal it was healthy in the sense that it was nourishing, and they took from us, im not eating the diet im professing i cant fucking afford it who can? but thats really my point, they are in the process of starving us NOW, just not everyone at once and not right away, they are doing it by degrees while lying through their fucking teeth that eating what is essentially cardboard is actually the healthier option. its not even the first time in the last hundred years they tried to starve millions of goys look into the holodomor if you havent already and i mean REALLY look.

[chiimaera]

“Look, can we… can we not talk about this now? Please?” // @ persephone

THEIR TIME TOGETHER WAS ALWAYS TOO SHORT, the four months out of the year felt like four days by the time it reached its end. some days she wondered if it wasnt better to just stay in the underworld and let the human realm fall into cold frozen ruin. she had pressed her luck a couple times only to have her father forcibly retrieve her when his humans began to starve to death. a rather ironic lecture about duties followed and it had taken every crumb of self restraint not to remind the old man whose fault it was. despite her small frame and compassionate disposition, her fiery ire was something she had inherited from the moody all father himself.

she had never doubted her husbands faithfulness to her, never wondered what he did while she was away until the queen had met her. the nymph of cocytus who seemed to fit far more perfectly into morbid wintery kingdom than she did. oh, the nymph had made sure point that out. every word that left the other womans lips felt like oil to a fire that persephone had not realized existed.

' there will be a day when he tires of you and he will come to me as he did before, needing a woman far more fit to be his queen. after all, the beauty of spring always fades ' then the nymph smiled, sharp and confident in a way that made the goddess grind her teeth.

truthfully everything that had come out of her mouth fell second to the tid bit of information that her husband had been intimate with the nymph. the jealous rage that swept through her felt like a tidal wave, crashing against the walls of her patience until only rubble was left behind. was this was it was to love someone? to feel as though her heart had been trampled at the mere idea that her husband would find pleasure and comfort in a body that wasnt her own?

servants and creatures kept their distance as she stalked through the dark halls of the palace. the spring goddess was usually seen humming a song, placing flowers inside pottery, saying hello to stoic passerby and errant souls. this time her gait was of a queen marching into battle, straight toward the dining hall where she knew he would be waiting. news traveled fast because by the time she pushed open the massive stone doors, another nymph straightened from where she was whispering into the rulers ear before disappearing in pop of magic.

“ look, can we… can we not talk about this now? please? ” they only had three weeks left before she was to leave for her duties and there was better ways to be spending their time together yet—

" no, we will talk about this now, " persephone practically growled. power radiated off her, all the blooms she had placed in the dining area wilted and shriveled in her presence. the servants took steps back so that they were closer to the walls without fully retreating their posts. " you took a concubine? you took a concubine and you didnt tell me? truly you and your brothers are unbelievable! at least, my father is out in the open about his affairs, but you? youve been lying me, spinning fairytales of true love while fucking nymph while im away! "

[readymades2002]

*clenching fists* drawing backgrounds right now