#BUT I NEEDED TO MAKE SURE PEOPLE SEE THERE’S SOMETHING THERE

[krussyarts]

Watched a horrendous video on a yaoi ship and one of the guys was called "spicy kitten uke" and it literally made me tear up and cry. This is how I cope with it. Ugly phone doodle starbee be upon ye

[lipsent]

SHOW ME WHO YOU ARE .ᐟ ── PITFIGHTER VI. been wanting to do something like this for a while now omg. i keep thinking about @shouyuus’s work and i decided to make my own version, because … i have rotted for far too long over this woman and i cannot lose any more sleep.

TAGS . . . 18+ !!! , f.reader , meeting at the bar , drunk vi , but she sobers up as she fucks you , vi yearning for you .

+ @eveningatthemoviesnetwork @thehoneypotserver @pixelcafe-network <33 tysm guys

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI probably spotted you across the bar she always crashes into after her bloodied wins. she’d definitely give you a look and continue to stare even when you catch her, her eyes darkened and her brows furrowed as if she’d met you before and that non-existent encounter held a gory weight.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI pushed past all the people dancing and flailing around just to get to you. some poor guy even tripped and fell on his ass just from her drunken shove alone—and seeing as she too were fighting ghosts to keep from swaying, it couldn’t have been that strong of a push. then again—this is vi, the pitfighter champion.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI somehow had the balls to let loose in front of you while you were trying to dance by yourself. you surprisingly didn’t mind despite how heavy her glances were, and it was almost telepathic how you both communicated wordlessly when you allowed her hands to rest on your waist.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI kisses like she didn’t wreak of cheap liquor, her tongue nearly pinning your own down from how aggressive she was with needing to feel you on her. chest to chest, she supported your back when she continued to push against you like she knew she had this horrible habit of greed, of needing everything from something as sweet as you in three seconds, physical limitations be damned.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI cursed herself when she grabbed your hand and led you back to her room, knowing exactly how disgusting and grimy her sweat-filled bed was and had of course decided she’d rather get a slap to the face for even thinking you’d ever lie down on that thing than not try at all. what do you take her for, a madwoman? with a girl like you, she would be if she didn’t take you somewhere when you gave her enthusiastic consent.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI seems like she’s begging to get lockjaw when her tongue swirls anxiously around your clit, every so often flicking upwards in that sweet spot she’d discovered made you squeal and arch your back. how you reached new heights in both your moans and your nerves when she very carefully slipped a finger in, her thumb replacing her tongue when she rose up again and let you taste yourself on her tongue without warning. you grabbed her shoulders as if you want to shove her away, and when she entertains the idea that you could in fact hold a candle to her strength, she just huffed and smiled before going, “you opened your mouth, princess. don’t tell me you didn’t like that.”

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI finally gets to fucking you and holy shit she was waiting so painfully long for you—her first strokes of her clit against your own were rough from the very start, both of you soaking and bubbling from everything that had been happening tonight—except she held out on her own pleasure just so she could see you come undone on her tongue and fingers. She bucks her hips against you roughly and the initial contact is explosive—you both moan in unison, yours higher and shakier as if racing her to something. you fell limp right after that first stroke and she continued to hold your leg up against her, hips bucking at a frenzied pace like she could see your orgasm approaching quickly, stopping at nothing to claw and fight to bring it back down to earth and let it spill all over her.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI has a death grip on your thighs and your waist when you cum, making sure you don’t squirm away now as your clit and hers throb in an unspoken rhythm like they’ve done this before and have made their shapes match perfectly with where contact is made and rubbed and heightened. You’re certain there’ll be bruises where her thumbs dug into her skin, and you can see it on her face the way one corner of her lips turn up just because she managed not to dig her nails into your skin but oh fuck is it going to bruise. she doesn’t even seem to realize, she’s too drunk on your clit to think now.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI cums and you scream because she pushes her clit all the way up yours like she wants to take up all of you in a capacity physically and biologically impossible for either of you—but she pulls your leg and waist towards her anyway, screaming your name when she cums and she pants, letting her grip lax finally as half-mast black-smeared eyes drag up your body from one last lick of the view before she collapses next to you, both of you panting and taking in the liquor and sweat.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI found the strength in her to somehow get up and pass you her waterbottle. when you tried to sit up, you winced and she snapped her head back to you only to put the waterbottle aside and slide a leg under your knee, her left arm slipping under the curves and lumps of your back and its bones before lifting you like you were wind ready to slip away. “hey woah woah—i’ve got you,” she muttered and you swore stars circled your head at how incredibly gentle she sounded, as if someone else’s sweet, unused and unexercised voice made it into such a hard-trained throat and still managed to stay soft despite everything. her hand’s grip was tight but her arms were so stable you might as well have been lying on a rock or a bumpy wall.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI lent you her jacket when she offered to at least send you off to wherever you needed to be in the morning. you were about to shrug the jacket off when it was time to leave but she chuckled weakly as her hands weigh it down on your shoulders, keeping it there before going, “nah, return it to me when we see each other next time. i’ll be at the bar every night.”

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI lost her mind even more than she already had when you didn’t return for the next three days. her punching bag broke from its chain, stuffing blasting in her face and she had to go through one hell of a hassel to get a new one. but all she thought of was you and so she was ending fights quicker, thinning her voice and reducing it to a coarse hair of a sound from all the screaming. even if she had wiped the spot where both of you came, she flipped her mattress the moment she found the stain.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI jacked off to you eventually, needing to forget you quickly but after cumming found that it just might be her end because she can’t forget how sweet you smell, the taste of you somehow still lingering even when a week or two has gone by and she’s weakened by the lack of your essence—not just from your clit but from the saccharine flowers that you managed to plant in her head and her chest with the memory of your smile, eyes narrowed like it was making room for such a pretty thing. she can’t breathe when she jacks off to you, remembering how your hips twitched into her at how good her clit felt against yours.

[kirbmey]

⠀⠀ཐི ˚̣̣̣ ⠀⠀ husband!sylus spoils you rotten⠀ ˚̣̣̣ ཋྀ

synopsis: sylus’ just a man who’s blindly in love at the end of the day. a man who’s also ridiculously rich and happens to be married to a little angel who loves pink and shiny things ꒰՞◌• ༝ •◌꒱♡

tw: more fluff (i just need him to take care of me), usage of ‘daddy, reader is a sweatheart, money doesn’t have value for these people at all, reader is very feminine and materialistic (sylus’ fault), mentions of pregnancy and baby fever, he smokes, etc.

being laid down on top of the pink fluffy blanket covering the big four-seater leather couch while waiving your feet slowly and scrolling mindlessly through your favorite luxury brands’ websites was definitely a hobby; an expensive hobby.

but weren’t those pink miumiu ballerinas just so perfect for the spring? and what about that dior shoulder bag? the handle made out of white gold with little diamonds creating details around the fabric? to the cart it goes.

let’s not even get started with make up, knowing how much sylus liked it when you wore this crimson chanel lipstick to his prestigious meetings, you just had to buy another one, and it had to be the limited edition, too… ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

he was more than okay with you leaving him dry (he has money for infinite lifetimes) every other day, handing you his black card when you two started dating a year ago; got married two months after.

sylus just had to make you his wife, his trophy, you were so perfect to his eyes, his ideal type. everything about you, physically and mentally fit with him like a puzzle. like a barbie to her ken.

and he was so… so. god, he was like a god (he kinda was). tall, fit, deep voice, pretty face, beautiful eyes, soft hair… and a plus to that, he was rich and influential. and he wanted you and only you! ૮ ෆ ´ ˕ ` ෆ ა

so you just clicked on the ‘check out’ button and wrote down the digits you ended up learning by heart, caressing the rock on your finger while waiting for the confirmation of your order.

sure, these expensive goods took longer than usual to be shipped, blah blah blah. sylus was one of the richest men in the country, his name was written in gold on every luxury brand list. when they saw he ordered something, anything, even just a hair clip, he was prioritized.

you happily jumped out of your seat, skipped with joy towards your husbands office, knocking before hearing a clear ‘come in’ from him.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “daddy, daddy! wanna see what i got for tomorrow’s party?” you asked with that sweat tone that you only reserved for him, sitting on his expensive wooden desk and swinging your feet.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “of course i do, kitten, lemme see.” he closed his laptop immediately, pulling the tall leather chair closer to your small frame and holding your ankles between his slender fingers, massaging your manicured feet while you scrolled through your phone to show him pictures and the inspo you got out of pinterest.

you started to rant about all the things you bought with his money, gaining low hums while he stared at you with heart-shaped eyes, an erase-able smile plastered of his sculpted face.

sylus loved it when you used his money and then bragged about it, loved it when someone complimented your outfit at a fancy dinner and you kindly thanked, saying your husband bought it for you.

but his favorite part of this whole process was when you made him sit on your bed which was filled with high-end bags, so many that the sheets weren’t even visible anymore, and gave him a detailed haul of everything, with try on included (by his request).

he’d order you to twirl around while he sipped on some french wine and smoked his cuban tobacco, manspreading so you could stand between his legs and allow him to take in every detail.

ever since he started dating you he slowly noticed these expensive brands paid crazy amount of attention to every detail, and he loved tracing the intricate shapes printed on the fabric while complimenting you.

but you were no selfish! no sir, you also bought things for your beloved, fantasizing about matching outfits with him, ordering him light colored clothes; things he’d never wear if it wasn’t for you.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “mm, what else do we have here… i don’t even remember what i got this time.” you mumbled while you stood on your knees on top of the mattress, throwing the empty bags away as you looked for the ones you haven’t opened yet.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “oh. my. god. sylus, close your eyes.” you told him trying to mask your excitement, grabbing the huge bag between weak fingers and placing it in front of him. “open them now, look.”

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “isn’t this too big for you, honey?” he questioned leaving the cigarette in the ashtray, holding the white leopard fur coat up, the tag said ‘dolce & gabbana’, one of his favorite brands.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “no, silly. it’s for you. i thought you’d look so good with it on.” you revealed, grabbing his hand to coax him into standing up, stripping him naked out of his shirt and getting on your tippy toes to dress him with said coat.

he really looked expensive with it on, showing off his trained abs and juicy pecs while making his broad figure appear even more prominent, the neck chain he often wore visible.

he wasn’t used to using big pieces like this, but he let you style him as a mere mannequin; he’d always get more compliments then usual on his outfits ever since you started matching them with yours.

he’d often caught you checking out baby clothes or nursery furniture when your period got close, too. and couldn’t help but imagine how good of a mother you’d be, how beautiful you’d look in your sleeping gowns with a swollen belly.

if sylus already cherished you in front of everyone, proud of showing you off as his wife, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of showing off an entire family ૮꒰ ྀི ◜ . ◝ ྀི꒱ა

but there was time for that, you were too young still and he wasn’t going to age or die any time soon.

he just hoped you wouldn’t ask for a baby; he didn’t know how to decline you.

a/n: i’ve been an unfaithful girl writing sm about caleb and neglecting my favorite boy sy like this :(

— masterlist.

[danieyells]

I've read that if you put something patterned on the window it's easier for birds to see it's a solid surface! They have special window decals for this that're basically one-way and won't block your vision but the birds can see them, but they have to be placed fairly clustered together(like no further than 2 inches apart i think?) and they're more effective when placed on the outside of the window which can be hard for people to do.

Birds are also less likely to crash into windows that have screens on the outside afaik(although in my experience they also rip the screens off for nests so they need to be replaced now and then) and ideally you put the netting like two inches away from the window so if they do fly into it they won't slam into the window anyway, they'll bounce off.

Apparently veritcal blinds can help too if you keep them open a little bit??

Basically most people are stuck with the windows they have and they can't put things on the outside of the window so not really a lot that can be done but if you can it's mostly about making sure something from the outside makes it more obvious there's a surface there.

up to one billion birds in the us alone die of window collisions annually. if you support bird conservation, campaigning against wind farms should not be your first action.

[wendysimp]

Secrets Out! Ep.2 (Leaked?)

Karina X Male Reader (Slight appearance by Aespa)

Tags: TitFucking, Ball sucking, Deepthroat, Spitting, Teasing, Videotaping, Quickie

~~ Be Sure to read Episode 1 here!

(3rd Person POV)

~ In the girls locker room

“You’re lying. That guy is a total loser.”

“Yeah, and a dick that big? It just doesn’t sound real.”

“I-I think he’s really cute.”

“Of course you think that Ning. But I’m serious! He just fucked Seulgi unnie and Wendy unnie in the backseat of the car!”

“His own step sister?!” The three of the girls were in complete shock with what they just heard.

A moment earlier before their chat, Karina drags her friends into the locker room to tell them about what she had just discovered in the parking lot. You, Seulgi and your own step sister Wendy having a threesome in the backseat.

“Yes! His own step sister!” Karina pulls out her phone. “Here look at this!”

She taps the play button, letting the video play for the girls to watch. Their eyes widened as they watch Wendy riding your cock while Seulgi rides your face.

“H-He’s actually fucking her.” Giselle spoke.

“Seulgi unnie is riding his face.” Winter followed up.

“Y/n’s… big cock.” Ning bites her lip making the girls look at her.

“Ning!” They all say, but she didn’t care and grabs the phone, skipping ahead of the video till it showed Wendy and Seulgi giving you a sloppy blowjob while recording themselves.

“Look! S-Such a big… fat… cock.” They all look back at the video, this time they put their focus on your dick.

The length, the thickness. They start to feel hungry. Hungry for your cock as they keep on watching. Karina starts to feel her panties getting soaked once again.

“F-Fuck! Again?” She bites her lip and looks down. The girls look at her and laugh.

“You’re getting wet huh?” Giselle teased.

“N-no! Shut up!” She defended herself but couldn’t hold back the blush.

“It’s okay if you are,” Winter chuckles softly. “I am too, I can’t lie.”

“Eww!” Giselle scoffed. “Let’s head back to class.” She grabs her bag as Winter and NingNing follow.

“I’ll be with you guys in a bit… I need to find Y/n and have a taste of him myself.” Karina whispered the last part to herself. They nodded and head to class.

Meanwhile, Karina was searching through the halls and all over the school, trying not to get caught to look for you but had no luck.

“Where could he be?” She thinks but then had an idea of where you could be. “Got it! The library! That nerd usually goes there at this time to do work.”

She quickly makes her way to the library, searching every section then finally spots you in the corner. She smirks wildly, knowing this was gonna be a perfect time. She walks up to you, taps your shoulder which makes you slowly turn your head.

“Hey nerd.” She says trying not to draw attention with the people around by staying as quiet as possible.

You sighed. “What do you want Karina? I’m busy doing my work.”

She sits next to you. “Well that can wait. I need to speak to you about something.”

“Get it over with already. I don’t like to be disturbed.” You put your attention back to your school work.

“Geez, calm down nerd. Look, I’m not gonna waste time here so let me just ask you something.” She looks at you. Thoughts of the video running through her mind.

“I’m not gonna do your homework for you.”

“It’s not about that idiot! It’s about something else.” She hits your arm.

“First off, ouch! And second, what could you possibly need from me?” You were curious. She would usually approach you about doing her homework or try to annoy you.

“It’s just a simple request.” She smirked which kinda creeped you out a little.

“Okay? What’s up?” You asked while she leans closer, your heart starts pounding. Is she about to kiss you?

“Can I maybe see… your cock?” She whispered. You froze up after her sudden request, the pen in your hand drops straight down to the floor.

“M-My what now?” You gulped. Did you hear correctly?

“Come on Y/n, you heard me.” She whispered more in a seductive tone while placing a hand on your thigh. She’s crazy you thought to yourself.

“N-No, are you crazy! I’m not showing you my stuff, that shit is weird!” You say trying not to be so loud.

“Oh that’s weird?” She smirks and takes her phone out. “Is it more weird that you fuck your own step sister.” She shows the video of you and your stomach drops.

“H-How did you get… delete that!” You try to take her phone but you were too slow. She giggled and teased you some more.

“Nope! You either show me your cock… or I will leak this video out and people will see how weird YOU really are.” She threatened.

This is fucked! You couldn’t figure out what to do. You can’t have that video getting leaked!

“Okay fine.” Those words make Karina’s smirk grow even bigger. This girl is crazy! I mean… she’s kinda hot but that’s not the point.

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” She teased you more.

“Shut up and let’s get this over with.” You get up, looking around, making sure no one’s around. “We gotta be quiet and be careful.” You whispered.

You undo your belt while Karina watches, biting her lip as she couldn’t wait for the grand reveal. You bring your hands down to the waistband of your pants, then slowly pull them down until…

*Slap*

Your dick sprung out, landing right on her face. She gasped at the size of your cock as it rests across her face.

“Oh… m-my… fucking… god.” You can feel her breath just between your balls and under your shaft sending shivers down your spine.

The scene was kinda hot. Actually, really hot! She grabs onto your dick, slowly stroking it while she was still amazed by the length and the feel.

“I-I thought you just wanted to see only.” You groan as you grip the table.

“You like this don’t you?” She completely ignored your words.

“Y-Yes.” You didn’t want to give in. But man it was so damn hard.

“I can see why even your step sister would fuck you. She’s very lucky I should say.” She giggled as she keeps stroking you before planting a kiss on your tip which was enough to make your knees weak.

“F-Fuck Karina!” You moan quietly, leaning your head back.”

Without any warning, she puts your cock into her mouth. Her soft moans vibrate around your shaft while your body tenses up. She takes you inch by inch trying to get use to your size.

“Mmm… so… big.” She slurped then pulls away. She spits onto your cock and strokes you making sure you’re completely soaked. “You like that nerd?”

At this point you couldn’t take it. You tangled your fingers in her hair and push her back down on your cock, making her bob up and down your wet cock.

“Just shut up and keep sucking bitch.” You groan as you make her deepthroat your dick, causing her to gag a little.

Instead of resisting, she let you do it. It was almost like she was allowing you to do that. Her saliva mixed with your pre cum drip down towards your balls. You pull her off your dick as you griped onto her hair.

“You fucking nerd,” She tries to catch her breath as she looks up at you. “Making me choke on your big, fat cock.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” You smirked as you smack your dick against her cheeks.

“I didn’t like it… I fucking loved it!” She sticks her tongue out and grabs your hard shaft to slap your tip onto it.

You groan out in pleasure as you watch her go down and suck on your balls while your cock is resting across her face.

“F-Fuck yes suck those balls.” Your eyes trail down and you bite your lip.

She pulls away. “Looking at my tits huh?” She looks down then back up at you. “You fucking perv. You think about my tits don’t you?”

“I would be lying if I said no.” Karina rolled her eyes.

“Mind telling me what you think about perv?” Her hands continue to stroke you.

“What your tits feel like in between my dick.” You grip her hair as she places more kisses all over your dick.

Karina was satisfied with your answer, and it only made her feel hotter. She takes her hands off your cock and moves back a little, taking off her hoodie.

“It’s only fair I show you my tits.” She pulls her pink crop top off, dropping it on the floor.

You look as your jaw drops. Her cleavage on display as her bra holds her big breasts together. Every little movement she makes, they bounce and jiggle around. You felt like you were being hypnotised.

Karina laughs as you stare for what felt like hours. “Look at you. You wanna see these tits huh?” She teased playing with the straps of her bra.

“Fuck yes.” You say almost instantly.

She takes off her bra, taking her time so she can tease and make you want more. Her big, soft tits are finally out, waiting to feel your touch.

(Y/n’s POV)

I lick my lips, reaching my hands over as I get a good grip on Karina’s tits. So fucking soft, so fucking big. She moans softly as she feels my touch.

“You like them?” She smirked, looking up at me.

“They’re amazing.” She smiles more at my answer while I keep playing with her melons. You then pull her onto your lap as you wanted to get a closer look.

“Ohh look at you,” She giggled. “Addicted already?” She teased.

“Maybe.” You dive in, rubbing your face in between her tits as she squirmed a little while holding you close.

I keep playing with her tits until she pushed me back against the chair, getting off my lap and onto her knees. She grabs onto my shaft and slaps the head against her tits.

“Mmm you like that daddy?” She looks into your eyes, turning you on with the way she addressed me.

It’s funny how Karina went from being a bitch towards me, to wanting more of my cock and calling me daddy. It just doesn’t seem real but I’m not complaining.

“I love it baby.” I grinned.

I can tell when I called her that it turned her on as she puts me between her tits and lets her spit drip down and onto my tip. She tightens the grip on my dick with her huge jugs, moving up and down slowly.

I moan softly. “Oh fuck, Karina! Your tits feel so fucking good!”

“I’m glad you like them daddy.” She winked.

I watch as my cock pops in and out between her tits before Karina sticks her tongue out, licking my tip every time she was close enough to lick it.

“Y-You’re gonna make me cum Karina!” I groan out.

“Cum for me daddy! Cum all over my tits.” She bites her lip as she was in desperate need of my cream.

She moves faster, she grips tighter while I grip the chair as I feel the sensation from her tits.

“I’m c-close baby.” I lean my head back.

I felt her reach for something and I look down as I see her phone in her hand.

“Would you mind recording? I wanna send this to my girls.” She asked with an innocent yet naughty smile.

“D-Don’t they hate me?” I grunt.

“After I send them the video, they won’t.” She hands me the phone. “Come on, please?”

Was it a good idea? What about the video she has of me, Wendy and Seulgi? I’m sure she can keep it a secret right? Ah fuck it!

“Fine.” I take the phone and start to record her cupping her tits together.

“Thank you daddy.” She smirks and moans sexily then shortly looks into the camera after waving a little. “Hey girls! His dick is so much bigger in person than on video.” She spits down on my cock again.

Did she… show them the video? Oh god. Let’s just hope nothing spreads around. I gotta be careful.

“Ahh fuck! Keep moving those big tits.” I groan.

“Mmm you like that daddy?” She breathed, moving more seductively.

“I love it baby. Keep going, you’re doing amazing.” I stroke her cheek. I guess Karina loves the way I praise her by the way she looked at me with a grin.

“I want your cream daddy!” She moves faster and faster. I was getting close, I tried to keep the phone as steady as I could but it was a little difficult.

“Y-You want it? Fucking take it!” You groan trying to stay as quiet as possible. The sound of her melons slapping against me.

I shoot my first load, making a mess all over her tits.

“O-Oh fuck! So much daddy! I-I… oh my!” Another load right across her cheek and around her mouth. “Fuck! This is the best load ever!” She smiles, gathering some of my cum from her tits before seductively sucking her fingers.

“You like the taste of daddy’s cum baby?” I smirked as I try to catch my breath. This view of Karina was fucking amazing to see.

“You taste so good daddy. I might want more.” She winks at you then looks at the camera. “Sorry girls, maybe I’ll invite you next time.” She wanted to tease them. She blows a kiss then grabs her phone.

“Soo, there’s a next time?” I bite your lip.

“Maybe.” She looks at me and grins again. She cleans herself up with some wipes she had in her bag before cleaning my cock with her mouth. “God you taste so good Y/n.” She kisses your tip.

I moan softly and smile and the both of us fix ourselves up, putting back our clothes that we had taken off.

“You’re not gonna leak the video right?” I asked.

“Mmm…” my heart was pounding. I can’t have this video get leaked. If my parents see it, they will flip out. Especially my mom! “I won’t.”

You let out a sigh. “Thank you.” I tell her and she smiles while sending the video to her friends. “You single?” You push your luck.

“No Y/n!” She glares at me. “You might have a chance though.” She moves close to me.

“Oh I’m gonna make you mine, just wait and see.” I pull her close. Both of our faces inches away.

“I like your confidence Y/n.” She looks into my eyes.

“Will you let me kiss you?” I whispered then see her face as she blushed.

“I don’t know try it.” She challenged. I lean in and kiss her deeply and passionately as I held her hips. She returned the passion back and moves her hand behind my head.

We pull away, out of breath as we were smiling like idiots. She’s really a whole fucking package.

“I guess I’ll see you around nerd.” She giggled and bites her lip softly.

I roll my eyes playfully. “Still calling me that huh? What happened to daddy?” I teased and she blushed, hitting my arm. “I’m kidding, I’ll see you around Karina.”

We both exchanged numbers and we both go our separate ways. Man I really am a lucky guy. Little did I know, a little misclick would cause some little problems in the future.

(3rd Person POV)

*Ding*

A girl takes out her phone during class, turning it on without alerting the teacher. She opens the link as it takes her to a video that shouldn’t be seen. She gasps quietly.

“W-What the fuck?! Is that Y/n?!”

End Of Ep.2

To be continued!

A little short but I’ll try to make them a bit longer. Hope you guys enjoyed this one. You guys can also help with this series by suggesting ideas and idols you want to see, so be free to send me a dm or inbox me!☺️

[shiningjustforreid]

stains

glimpses through fem!reader and Spencer’s relationship, through four instances of spills.

word count: 3.5k ish

a/n: i love the idea that for some of us, our personalities are made up all the things we like about the people we know and see. the idea that we’re all little bits and pieces of the things we love, and our experiences. this sort of explores that. (also this was mildly self indulgent because much like reader i’m a klutz!) <3

warnings/tags: 18+ for implied intimacy and canon typical violence for cm, pet names up the wazoo, reader is lowkey clumsy, Derek Morgan being himself, reader gets injured but she’s fine, who’s Maeve?, anxious love confession, Spencer adores reader so so much, S1 and S6 (ish) Spencer, Spencer in and post prison, love letters, marriage, kids, and briefly mentioned pregnancy, girl dad!Spencer Reid my beloved

- ✩ -

coffee - the first stain

To be honest, at first, he’s appalled.

The mug you set down on his desk isn’t his, so God knows whose mouth was on it last. You - somewhat carelessly - plopped it down on the file he’s working on, grinning that thousand watt smile he’s secretly become fond of. You’re wearing a sweater he noticed that brings out your eyes - a berry colored wool garment that he wishes you’d wear more.

“Hey! Morgan said you were exhausted. Thought I’d make you coffee.”

You pick it up, and set it down again, for emphasis, and a few drops make their way down the side and onto his case file, surely creating a cinnamon toned half circle that Hotch will not love. You don’t notice, watching his face.

“I made it with a bunch of sugar. Just how you like it, right?”

Suddenly, he realizes he’s been staring up at you, and then his mouth is moving faster than his brain.

“Yeah, I uh, I am pretty tired, now that you say it. Didn’t sleep well, long night, you know?”

You nod, sipping your own coffee, fingers wrapped around the ceramic.

“I get that. Goes with the job, right?”

“Oh, absolutely, yeah, I- wait, Morgan said that? Did he— what else did he tell you?”

You grin, coffee mug to lips again.

Stop staring, Reid.

“Nothing, really. Just said you needed a boost. Thought I’d provide.”

Titling your head a tad, you look down, a mild panic crossing your face when you see you’ve stained his file.

“Oh my God - Reid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

He’s quick to shake his head, hands coming up to reassure, his eyes wide.

“No no no, it’s okay, truly, I-I made a mistake on that one anyways. I’ll need to have a new copy printed, honest.”

Frowning, you look him over, searching for a tell, something to let you know whether he’s lying or not.

“Are you sure? I can do it, I’m not that behind on mine, I could—“

Before he thinks - you’d assume, with all his brains, he would - his hand grabs your arm, that gorgeous sweater under his finger tips, his eyes locked with yours. He says your name, once, his tone more serious than he’d like.

“It’s okay. Thanks for the coffee.”

You blink, and then a slow grin takes over your face.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need more.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the heat of his hand burning through the wool on your arm, until he lets go like you’re the one scorching his skin, like he’s just realized that he’s touching you. You laugh a little, awkwardly, and he grins with the same level of unpracticed nerves, and you head back to your desk.

He picks up the mug, and sips slowly, closing his eyes for a moment - it does have a mountain of sweetness, the saccharine liquid coating his mouth but soothing his senses. When he sets it down again, it’s on a part of his workspace not occupied by case work. Just as predicted, the file that once housed the beverage now bears a semi circle of dried java. His pointer finger traces the stain, clockwise and then counter, for a moment, before he glances up in horror to see Morgan, of all people, signature smirk in place.

“‘Thanks for the coffee’. I don’t what’s sweeter, that coffee you just got or-“

“Shut up.”

He mumbles, face flushed, small smile on his face despite the teasing. He traces the coffee stain one last time before he hastily tucks the soiled paper away in a drawer.

blood - the second stain

“What do you mean you aren’t getting a response from her on comms?”

He’s so scared, he can’t even stop to think just how breathless and afraid he sounds, as he turns to Hotch, who fixes him with a look that clearly says, Calm down, Reid.

“It could just be non-functional, or got knocked off, or caught.”

Hotch says calmly, almost maddeningly so. Spencer swallows back the protests, the arguments that swell up in his throat like bile.

They’d created, and given the profile, and once Penelope had narrowed down the couple possible properties their potential unsub owned, you, Morgan, and Prentiss had headed into an abandoned storage facility, silent and careful.

Perhaps not careful enough.

The voice in his head reminds him, almost sadly, and he grits his teeth inside tightly drawn and chapped lips. Shaky hands smooth over his slacks, again and again, as his eyes stay fixed on Hotch.

“Ask-ask Morgan again. If she’ll respond.”

He’s given a frown, dark brows pulling together in a very typical Hotch-like manner.

“Is there a specific reason you’re asking about her, Reid?”

Is there? God, he doesn’t know. You bring him coffee nearly every morning, but perhaps that’s just kindness. Then there’s the chocolate sprinkled donuts that start his work day from time to time - maybe you just enjoy pastry treats, and think of him, when you buy one. Oh, and heaven forbid he forget the way you’ll come by his desk, and ask for clarification on a piece of paperwork or a procedure - that you probably could’ve asked Hotch or Prentiss about. You listen, active listening too, eye contact, body still - when his explanations turn into rambles about statistics about this type of criminal, your eyes watching his face, your own voice quiet.

Is he deluding himself? Seeing phantom romance where there’s maybe merely nothing but platonic affection? Blinking, once, he shakes his head in response to his Unit Chief’s question.

“No Hotch. I’m just worried, she-well, she hasn’t responded, and Morgan has, and Prentiss has, and I—“

Speak of the devil, Morgan’s voice comes through, demanding and tense.

“I need a medic. Prentiss and I secured the unsub, but, not before—“

Oh God. Not before that bastard got to you with a baseball bat, to the back of the head, you unaware before your face met the concrete below. Spencer’s not even asking for permission, snatching the keys to an SUV off the desk nearby and flooring the gas pedal.

You can’t die. Not before I—

Driving there is like hell - his lungs burn like there’s smoke and ash polluting them, and fear feels like too tame a word to describe the overwhelming panic that seizes his heart the more he drives.

I’m a fool, he thinks wildly, as his knuckles grip the steering wheel like a vice. A damn fool if I don’t tell her-

He’s barely got the thing in park before he’s scrambling out the driver’s side door, Converse immediately coated from the dusty ground outside the facility.

When he finds Morgan, and you, head lolled to the side, eyes closed, face pale as his must be, he falls to his knees with little regard for his own pain or discomfort. Morgan watches, careful, his voice gentle when he speaks, trying to calm his terrified friend.

“She’s still out, Reid. Just a nasty whack to the back of her head, okay? Easy.”

Trembling thumbs trace and hold your face, like it’s made of paper, as he swallows hard to keep the ache behind his eyes from becoming tear tracks down his face. He spots the gash, trickling crimson down your ashy skin, onto his shaking hand, but doesn’t move from holding your face. A deep contusion, furious and violet-toned, on the back of your head, makes the air leave his chest like he’s been choked.

Beautiful girl, I couldn’t stop this.

He could sob, and he nearly does, until you make some sort of confused noise and force open your eyes. Light rushes through his heart, rekindled warmth as he meets your eyes, and yet, he finds himself almost frozen.

“Spencer? What, I thought-“

“Listen to me.”

He forces himself to speak - he has too. What if he doesn’t get the chance, and all he ever gets to associate you with is caffeine, sprinkles, and a listening ear? No, that won’t do. Not in the slightest.

You meet his eyes, hazy, but listening. Morgan’s brows furrow, as he protests,

“God, man, she just woke up, let her-“

Ignored, as Spencer often finds himself doing when there’s more pressing matters than banter, than propriety.

“You need to know. That I-care about you.”

Blinking, you swallow, and suddenly, the throbbing pain in the back of your skull is slightly dimmed.

“That I can’t let another sunrise or sunset go by where you don’t know that I’d give you the stars if you’d let me. Where I can’t touch you, where I can’t make sure you understand that I’ll protect the light you have inside you until I’m burnt from it. You absolute angel, I-“

He shudders, almost afraid of his own earnest, and says your name like it’s a prayer.

“I love you. Even if you don’t return it, my heart is yours.”

Morgan’s grin is wide, and he shakes his head, almost in amazement. Your own face is flushed, as you hear sirens and medics, your voice crackly and rough from pain, but still, that smile he’s grown to associate with his heart fluttering graces your face.

“My heart is yours, Spencer. Glad you’re finally realizing how absolutely in love I am with you, you goose, even if it took all this.”

He laughs a little, almost deliriously, and smooths his trembling hand over your face.

“Guess the doughnuts weren’t enough, huh?”

You manage, and he shakes his head, quick to push back.

“They were. You’re always enough for me, no matter what you do.”

Could he sound any more smitten?

Procedure says he can’t go in the ambulance with you - there’s no need, you’re just getting stitches and some ice and he can visit you at the hospital, okay? But as he heads back to the - oh dear, still running, he really was in a hurry, wasn’t he? - car, Morgan glances sideways at him, signature smirk in place.

“Pretty boy, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Spencer stares down at his hands in his lap. They’re stained, and a grimace floods his face when he realizes it’s not dirt, but your blood, coating his fingertips. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he bites back a nastier retort than his friend deserves.

“I guess I did. I can’t believe it took-“

Morgan sighs, stopping Spencer’s inevitable incoming guilt filled rambles.

“Hush. You told her. That’s what matters.”

Glancing down at Spencer’s fidgeting hands in his lap, he presses on the gas.

“Let’s get there, so you can get that off you. I’m shocked you got all dirty, with your germ thing.”

Spencer shrugs, looking out the window.

“For her? I’d-I think I’d do anything. No matter what it stained.”

Soap finds his hands at the hospital, but he finds you soon after, unable to stop the gentle press of his lips to your forehead, or the soft murmurs that follow as he tries to remind himself that much more of your blood didn’t spill.

ink - the third stain

Emily has to physically hold you back in the court room, when they take him out, his eyes fixed on you, and the team, almost hopeless.

“Then your client is a flight risk.”

You’re quite literally fighting her, suddenly terrified in a whole new way for your boyfriend, tears staining your face.

“Bail is denied.”

She’s got both arms wrapped around you, her soft, ‘I know’s, and ‘I’m sorry’s barely heard over your own pleas for her to let you go.

“Defendant will be remanded to federal custody pending trial.”

You hear someone sobbing - angry, fear-filled wailing - and until Emily has you turned around, your face in her shoulder, comes the realization that it’s you.

“He’s-Emily, what are we going to do, he’s not going to be okay, I-I can’t—“

The days that follow are dark. Going to the BAU without Spencer, let alone waking up without him beside you, is enough to send you into a spiral. You try to remind yourself that he’s worse off, that whatever hell he’s experiencing is ten times worse than your quiet fear and loneliness. So, to try to combat the weight that squashes your heart, you write him letters. Daily letters.

Spencer -

We have a case in Florida. Emily says it’ll be quick, but the Florida ones never are. We’d solve it ten times faster with you, you know? Geographical profiles are much harder alone, that’s for sure. The plane ride is quieter without you, and no one’s saying anything - you’d be saying something if you were here. Maybe that’s why we’re quiet. ♡

Every day. You don’t relent. If you can’t mail them in whatever town you get stuck in for work, you mail them in one big envelope when you get back home.

Spencer -

That case was rough. I cried twice - once when I spent over two hours staring at the map at the precinct and couldn’t find anything new, and once when Rossi accidentally snapped at me. He said he was sorry, that he’s ‘on edge’ right now - but aren’t we all? Emily’s working really hard to try to get you home. I wish I could come see you. I hope you’re safe. I love you. ♡

When you learn that he didn’t put you on the list of people who can visit him in that concrete hell, you almost lose what’s left your nerve, breaking down in Emily’s office, shaking. You don’t know whether you’re furious, in despair, or numb to it all.

“Emily, why? Why doesn’t he want me to come see him? If it was me, I’d want to see him every day, I wouldn’t want him to leave!”

She sighs, her face tight. Twisting your hands in your lap, you search her face for answers. Nausea claws at your throat.

“Honestly, my guess is it’s just that. He knows that if you come, he won’t want you to leave. It’ll hurt too much.”

“But Tara, and you, and his mother, and-

Spencer -

I think I understand. Sort of. I feel like there’s this pressure in my chest, and I can’t ever fully breathe. Not since you’ve been away. The weight on my heart never goes away. Missing you more every hour. ♡

Despite the slew of handwritten letters that reach him, you only get one back, after you and the team search his apartment - you keep it in your purse pocket, folded safe, and read it whenever your throat feels tight and your eyes burn. His untidy scrawl is enough to make you feel like a part of him is actually inside this letter - like he’s reading it himself to you, interwoven in the fibers of the paper.

Angel -

I wanted you to know I’m in solitary now - I made sure of it. I know you want me safe, almost more than I do. I love you beyond what I can say, my beautiful girl.

Yours, Spencer.

One night, you’re curled up in Spencer’s apartment, writing him a letter, as is your nightly routine. The ink stains the side of your hand now - an ever-present reminder of the fact that your heart constantly feels ripped out of your body. After addressing the letter to him, your phone buzzes - Emily.

Oh God.

“Hey. We figured out that- oh, you don’t care about all that. He’s coming home.”

She doesn’t need to tell you twice. Paper and ink pen tumble to the floor as you shove your feet in shoes and snatch your jacket off the coat tree. Tension is coiled in your body the entire way there. Ink still stains the side of your hand, a permanent reminder that every time you needed to just tell him something - you had to pick up pen and paper.

Heart in your throat, you push open the door with shaking hand. There he stands, your Spencer. He’s still him, you think, although his face is tight, and sleep clearly hasn’t been something he’s seen much of.

Three months.

You walk in slowly, body trembling. One hand reaches up, runs through the curls that have grown so long.

“Your hair.”

You breathe out, voice barely audible. He nods, his face almost impassive. Tentativel fingers trail down his cheek, make a path to hold his face. He nods, and then, you notice his eyes are misty.

“My angel.” He murmurs, almost in awe, and takes you in his arms with a fervor. Crushed against him, face buried in the cool fabric of his shirt, you bite back a sob, arms threaded around him.

“No. Cry, my darling girl, I’m— I’m tired of doing it alone.”

How could you refuse him? Just hearing his voice, let alone the relief you feel at being touched by him again, is enough to satisfy you for days, you think. For a bit, all that’s heard is uneven breaths, until he speaks, his voice rough and shaky.

“I need to see your face.”

He pulls back, face shining with tears, and you swallow back the lump that just won’t leave your throat.

Calloused hands - less soft than you remember - take yours, and then he frowns.

“Your hand.”

Your right hand is held up, inspected, like the blue on the inner side of it is red instead. You smile, laughing a little, still breathless.

“Ink, baby. Just ink. I was writing you a letter.”

He shakes his head, rubbing at the navy stain with his thumb, as if that will remove it.

“I would’ve kept writing. Never given up. You’d be sick of letters from me.”

“Never, sweet girl. There is no part of me who could ever find himself sick of you.”

After you’ve home, he wastes no time in pressing less than tender kisses to your mouth and jawline and the column of your throat. It’s not until he’s reacquainted himself with your contours and the dip of your hipbones and the soft way you gasp out his name when he does that, that has you next to him, so he can see your face.

He needs to see your face.

Hand in his, still faintly stained from ink, he examines it, and then, softly, hesitantly, he meets your eyes.

“You know ink poisoning is actually rare? Pens we use are designed with non-toxic ink, to decrease any chances of fatal ingestion.”

You never mind his information sharing, but your eyebrows furrow tiredly at his timing.

“Spence, I’m not saying I don’t care, but we just— you just—”

“Please. Let me look at the woman I love and pretend for a few moments that my damn eidetic memory won’t play back the last three months of my life like some wretched tape.”

You let him, as he holds your cobalt-colored hand and your eyes droop, his soft voice telling you that rubbing alcohol will probably get that stain out. It almost feels normal.

Almost.

paint - the final stain

“Spence! Can you get paint water out of carpet with any amount of ease?”

You call your husband, turning back to your mildly sheepish five year old, whose water color adventure on the coffee table has quickly done south.

In walks Spencer, not even noticing the overturned hard plastic cup or purpley-blue spill, eyes going straight to his daughter’s nearly finished picture.

“Beautiful, Penny. Looks incredible.”

He murmurs, bending to be eye level with a beaming Penelope, hand on her arm, before turning to you, mild tension and stress lining your face. His smile is gentle. It’ll wash out.

“Rubbling alcohol, angel.”

You nod, tension easing from your shoulders.

“We’ll go get it - we always clean our messes up, right lovely?”

He asks your daughter, lifting her with practiced care. She giggles, nodding, as they head from the room, letting you take a breath and set up the paints and picture in a new location - the kitchen table, with some newspaper tucked underneath because she’s five, and you of all people know spills happen.

Once she’s set up again - she really is so quiet when she’s engrossed in something - you find yourself curled up with Spencer on the couch, head on his shoulder, watching her paint and sing-song to herself.

“Think she’s lonely?”

Spencer asks, turning to you, his grin wide.

Troublemaker.

“Hmm. I think you just like me pregnant.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Maybe. Maybe I don’t want Penny to be sad, ever.”

Silence, then, for a bit.

“She’s so much like you.”

Spencer muses, his fingers drawing patterns on the side of your sweater. You smile, fondly.

“You say that because I’m clumsy. She was dancing around with that paintbrush, that cup of paint water stood no chance.”

“No, I say that because she shines like you. No matter what tries to dim her.”

That night, when you peek in your daughter’s door to see Spencer reading her A Little Princess, she’s propped up against him, hazel eyes barely open. Affection swells in your chest as his voice carries on, even though she’s clearly almost in dreamland. In you walk, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then Spencer’s. He smiles gentle up at you - this is his favorite time of the day - and keeps reading.

“Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words, and everything in the world understands it.”

Once you’re back in the living room, you check on the earlier spill from today. All that’s left is a barely visible blue spot, no bigger than a quarter.

“No one will see it but you.”

Steadying, warm arms wrap around your ribs, and soft lips press against the side of your neck, washing away any insecurity about the state of your carpet.

“Besides, stains aren’t bad, sweet girl. They’re little reminders that things happened, good things, or bad things that brought us together. Memories, attached to splotches, attached to wounds, to paper, to skin. How convenient, to carry our most impactful moments like heaven-sent tattoos.”

[frostedpuffs]

i know this is probably a very unpopular opinion but i prefer the new animation over the old style. Adrien's new design will take some getting used to but everyone else looks AMAZING. and im sorry, i know we all loved the old animation, and it's nostalgic, but it was OUTDATED. miraculous needed an animation update so badly. some of the old episodes looked a little bit too much like cocomelon if im being honest!

i think a lot of people hate the new animation because they don't like change, which i get. I initially felt the same. but i think it's a massive improvement and those people who are refusing to watch the new season bc of the change are doing a massive disservice to themselves and the show.

it's all just so fun! the background characters have more diversity. there are so many more little details (like the strands in Marinette’s hair, the red streaks in ladybug's, the seams on their suits, Marinette’s room having clutter, the wrinkles/textures in clothing, nino's curls, and the entirety of Paris looking less dead). all the characters feel so much more like themselves and the new animation brings so much life to them. the new akumatization sequence is so cool and creative.

overall, i really, really love it, and i don't understand why people are so adamant saying it's bad when it very clearly isn't? other than disliking change which i do understand. but man im gonna be honest, it feels like this fandom hates any sort of change and literally always has something negative to say. shows getting an animation update after a long runtime is completely normal and happens all the time. maybe not this drastic of a change, sure, but it's very common. after 6 seasons of this show id HOPE the animation would've changed and been more up to the higher quality standard other animated shows are.

anyway, loving season 6 so far. loved episode 2. excited to see more. i adore this show more than words can describe it makes me so happy

(please do not make me regret keeping reblogs on by coming on here and telling me why you dislike it and arguing with me. i am fed up w the negativity)

[pseudonymousposting]

I used to read and retain very well. Now, if I look at a lot of text, all I see is a big wall of fuck symbols that blend together and mean nothing so to be fair maybe a huge amount of us are worn out and can't parse information anymore.

But also important systems (like education) collapsing is part of the process of a civilization dying and, often, literacy plummets quickly.

This is partially because of the powerful neglect or purposely undercut these systems. This can be for personal gain, to suppress dissenting elements, to narrow the scope of whom they empower to their supporters, because they don't want to do so, because they are incompetent, because the system can not maintain itself anymore or any other number of reasons.

It's also partially because people are just trying their best to survive and don't have time to learn nor teach their children. This is something you'll note if you listen to elementary school teachers, who were iirc coming forward in droves with chilling tales of children coming into school having not reached some important prerequisite milestones for some of what they needed to include in their curriculum.

Early literacy was part of this phenomena, and there was plenty of drivel from parents blaming teachers, teachers blaming parents. Thank goodness, there was a number of people pointing at the problem: we are systemically fucked right now, and what it would take to fix the issue would look like a societal upheaval.

Here's the thing. The teachers have a lot of material to cover and a short time to do so. Taking extra time to literally teach children to read at a beginner level, a skill they should have at least begun to grasp before getting to school. This is a huge setback that costs heavily in the long term. It is expected that children are taught these things. This is NOT the teacher's fault. Their job is not to raise your children for you.

The activities that teach the skill have been considered standard fare, bare-minimum parenting activity, and, really, one of those parts of parenting in which you're supposed to look forward to participating. There are very few things more exciting to witness than a child you deeply love read their first book entirely unassisted.

It's one of those moments where you struggle hiding your tears because you're not sure if it's too early to explain what it means to cry out of sheer pride and love for another person. If you remember the first time reading a book on your own in front of an adult who loved you, note this may have been happening in their mind without your knowledge.

This is not a moment the parents are avoiding or too lazy to work toward. Quite the contrary; they are being deprived of it. People need to work toward feed their children. The hours they need to work to make that happen is rising, and the employers are becoming more and more brazen about how exploitative they're willing to be.

Hours get longer, pay stays the same, the pockets of billionaires grow evermore overstuffed with incomprehensible wealth, while the parents of hungry children struggle to make ends meet. When they do have time home, they're dead tired.

What I'm saying is, as usual, our economic system is becoming the failing nightmare it was intended to be in the first place, and the answer to this growing and worrying problem is to address that. Easier said than done, playing against a deck stacked against exactly the kind of person suffering the natural effects of a shit ass system such as this.

https://x.com/StrangerJosh11/status/1856410822983201030

It’s dire out here

Huston we have a problem

[yourtypicalhuman09]

Beyond The Bat

(Neglected reader x Yandere batfam)

Chapter 1: In The Shadows

TW!!! Cursing !!Dark AU!!

Living in the Wayne manor isn't the sweet luxurious dream you'd think it'd be, reality is in fact much crueler. For as long as I could remember I had lived in this dreary mansion, but lived isn't the word I'd use. I was more trapped here if anything. My "family", if I could even call them that, are well respected people. They're highly skilled and talented people, someone like me could only dream to be like them. I tried so hard to get close to them, I really did try, but no matter what I did nothing worked. I did everything, gymnastics, martial arts, theater, art, music, coding, dance, volleyball, cheerleading, heck I was even in the honors society. Despite being an A+ student and a role model in high society they never once went to any of my recitals, games, or showcases. I went to galas all alone, I had to deal with the sneering faces and snide remarks of high class men and woman alone since I was 8. Not very safe for a child huh? I didn't think so either but my "father" doesn't seem to care.

Nevertheless, I have no choice in this matter and it's not like life here is unbearable. Sure I get beatings and tongue lashings every now and then, but for the most part everyone in the manor tends to forget me eventually and leave me alone. It's pretty isolating but I got used to it, after all I have duties to perform. I have my job as Student council president and I don't intend to slack off. I got that job with my own blood sweat and tears and I will not let all those sleepless nights go to waste. I don't have time to wallow in self pity I have countless of students looking up to me and counting on me to do my job.

"Young master, are you okay? You seem to be staring off into space."

I looked up to our old butler, his face jaded and littered with wrinkles that seemed to contort pathetically in worry. I knew better than to accept his pity. He seems to be a wise gentle man on the outside with his elegant wardrobe, worn old body, and soft spoken demeanor, but do not be fooled. In truth, Alfred Pennyworth was a foolish coward. This was the same man who abandoned his own daughter just like my idiot of a father. I gave him a chance, but nothing's been the same since the day he accidentally called me Julia. I was nothing but a stand in for him, someone to relieve his guilt with.

"I'm fine. Don't you have something better to do? I'm sure Bruce has some kind of task for you, no need to bother yourself with my problems"

"...Very well then...Take care of yourself young master."

He clearly had something more to say but he decided to do nothing and walk away. Like I said he's a coward. Still I'm not new to disappointment, whether it's the disappointment of missed birthdays or the way they all see me as the disappointment, it's nothing I haven't experienced before. I quickly packed up my things and headed to school. Sure riding to school on an old worn out bike isn't exactly ideal, but I have to deal with what I have. Although, I do have to take some back alleys to school since I don't want anyone seeing and starting a scandal. I can already see the blaring headlines, "Daughter of Gotham's richest man caught riding to school on a beat up bicycle!". What a bunch of nosy bastards.

"Good mornin' (Y/N)!"

I turned to face the sunny senior calling my name, his unadulterated joy making him stand out in the crowd of groggy gothamites.

"Good morning Cyrus."

My crisp responses never seems to deter the boy as he continues to walk beside me chattering endlessly.

"(Y/N) I got things you asked! It's super cool what you're doing for the school, I'm so happy I get to be apart of it! If you ever need help with anything please do ask me!"

I sighed, his joyful energy was contagious. I couldn't help but crack a smile. Though it quickly disappeared as I regained my composure, but obviously not fast enough since Cyrus' joy seems to only be growing.

"Ahhhhh (Y/N) just smiled! I made the student president smile! I'm so sigma"

Here he goes again with those weird words and that cocky grin. I sighed once again, I'm too tired for this.

"Yes thank you Cyrus get to class now, I'll pick up the things I asked for after school."

"Yes ma'am!"

I watched as he playfully saluted and ran to class almost bumping into several people along the way. I facepalmed, he was such a handful but strangely I don't really mind. It's probably the lack of sleep I'll make sure to go to bed early today, for now I have to get to class myself.

Author's note: Omg chapter one is finally out! This took me a lot longer than expected but I hope it's good I went through a tiny writer's block😅. I hope you guys like Cyrus I tried to make him a silly and sunny character but trust me he'll have lore and be a much deeper character. I also tried making (Y/N)'s backstory pretty vague since they're the narrator and I figured they wouldn't like talking about it, but their lore will be revealed more throughout future chapters. Anyways as always thank you all for reading and have a good day/night!

Credits to khaer for the dividers

@simpingpandas @rosalietodd013 @sirenetheblogger @cim0nnin @00hellohello00 @crazycaoticsimp @lovebug-apple @youdontknowshtaboutfk

[truelovepolinator]

Why I'm So Sure It's Luke

I've been pretty quiet here for a while. Much of that is because of the state of the world. I had a bit of a deep spiral last weekend about things happening in my country.

And I confess that the FB comment and funeral hubbub sent me into a corresponding (though temporary) Lukola spiral to which I was doubtless more vulnerable due to my already depressed state. Did I really have to lose my daily dopamine drip (aka, Lukola) just when I needed it most?

Short answer: Absolutely not.

I had already started to pull myself out of my Lukola spiral by Monday (the other spiral is still very deep), and video and photos of Nic that emerged on Tuesday and Wednesday shored me up until I was back to effing rock solid.

I often see things I don't agree with, even on the blogs of folks with whom I usually agree, and I simply move on most of the time. I don't comment. I feel no need to argue with people in their own blogs. In friendly spaces, I'll sometimes share counter opinions because I believe respectful dialogue and debate are important — and have all but disappeared in this era of instant blocks. And we all want to share information and opinions that help us fine tune our perspectives.

But if they're clearly dug into an opinion that I view as wildly wrong, there's little value for me in arguing with them. Let them think what they want. It's not my job to change anyone's mind.

The jakola takes are the easiest to ignore for obvious reasons. I've written extensively about JD's role in Nicola's life and there's no need to do so here. (Feel free to read my other posts if you need clarity around N & J's non-romantic relationship.)

Instead, the takes I find the most frustrating are from the Lukolas who have lost hope, the so-called "realistic" ones who think that we "just have to accept that they're not together," and maybe even that "Luke is with Ant."

To this, I respectfully say, we absolutely do not have to accept any such thing because the evidence is fully on our side.

Truth be told, I suspect I'm most vexed by these posts because I used to be one of those "realists." In late summer/early autumn, I had fallen victim to the fake narratives created by the paparazzi shots of both Nic and Luke, all designed to imply a certain narrative without either of them actually saying those things were true. I always believed NicLuke belonged together. However, I reluctantly accepted that "I guess Luke is probably seeing her" and "not sure about that guy, but the photos of Nic and him do look cozy."

I understand the impulse to surrender. It's so hard to have faith, to keep believing in something when there's an apparent narrative being constructed in the public eye that tells you you're wrong. It's painful (and feels delulu) to keep believing when you've been let down repeatedly by pap photos you assume are true.

It's very easy to accept a false narrative if you don't have the energy to dig in and really pay attention to all the signs and information available when you look for it. (This is true on the world stage as well, and we should all think very critically about the stories we're being told, but I digress.)

I wrote extensively and in gory detail about how and why I'm so sure about Lukola in my blog post "Nicola and Luke Are Absolutely Together...," which I'll link here for anyone who wants persuasion or reassurance. I won't rehash all of that here, but I do want to touch on a handful of milestones & crumbs, many of which are recent, that make me quite sure about Luke being the man in Nicola's life.

One of the recent assertions I saw was that we need to let go of the significance of the Claddagh ring. (I'm not putting anyone on blast. I can't even remember who said this, and I think it was someone I like, so no offense.) But I could not disagree with this more.

Claddagh rings are worn to represent relationship status more than anything. Yes, they can be given in friendship, but the orientation of the ring on the wearer's finger is fundamental to understanding the ring. Only someone with no connection whatsoever to its heritage or meaning would throw it on willy nilly in any direction they pleased.

Not everyone follows the rules closely. I wore mine for years, on my left ring finger, heart down when I was free, heart up when I was taken. I only stopped wearing it when I replaced it with my engagement ring. (Obviously, I was not following the traditional 4 steps.)

Some wear it just on a single hand, whichever they choose. Some might wear it just while single (even engaged), then replace it when married. Some use it to indicate engagement and marriage when that time comes, others focus solely on taken or not. Admittedly, not everyone follows every step closely.

However, Nicola is from Galway where the ring originated. She is deeply proud of her Irish heritage. There is no chance she would put that ring on any finger with the heart pointing toward her heart unless her heart was taken.

Now, let's remember that she picked that ring up while she was in Galway during the World Tour. She modeled that ring in Chupi photographs, with the heart pointing up (heart taken) wearing the same outfit she wore to the screening. The same screening where she hugged her mother to within an inch of her life, then introduced her mom to Luke. That was the most tearful, emotional intro I've ever seen between a guy and his platonic co-worker's mom, huh?

Hypothetically, could her heart have been taken by someone else at that stage? Well, do you really think a secret significant other — who was important enough to warrant a "heart taken" ring orientation — would be okay with Nicola not only getting the ring while she's physically with Luke (and flirting heavily), but also making that showy, deeply emotional introduction between her mother and Luke? If you were her secret, non-Luke SO, would you be okay with it?

There is literally no chance.

Chupi told us that ring was to commemorate Season 3 of Bridgerton. Again, would a secret, non-Luke SO be fine with her wearing a ring that symbolizes her Polin season with Luke as a symbol of this secret, non-Luke SO's love?

I won't even bother digging into the symbolism of the rings on the hands, but say it were true that she just wanted it to commemorate a special season. If her heart weren't taken, that ring on her finger would have pointed down. She told us the moment those photos were snapped that her heart was taken, and logic tells us that, at that moment in time, it could only have belonged to Luke.

Since then, lots of things have happened. There were pap photos galore, all telling a very different story, right? Again, it's very easy to accept a false narrative when it's spoon fed to you. But gosh, wouldn't those pap photos also provide excellent cover for two people in love, possibly nesting together, who also wanted to keep their love very, very private?

I talk a lot more about this in the above linked blog (and others) and I'm not going to tackle it here. If you don't want to believe it, that's your prerogative, but if you're curious about whether it could possibly be true, I encourage you to have a read.

So set aside the adjacents for now and focus exclusively on our girl Nic. What we know is that she wore that ring consistently through the summer and early fall, on her right hand, heart pointing up (heart taken). Then, in October, she switched it to her left hand.

Again, not everyone follows every traditional Claddagh step, but Nicola is a Galway Girl. If she's been wearing it consistently on the right, then suddenly switches it to the left where she continues to keep it consistently, she's not oblivious to the meaning of that switch. That switch is deeply significant.

Remember, the left hand is traditionally the hand where it's worn to indicate engagement (heart down) and marriage (heart up). And when she switched, she kept the heart pointing up.

Does that absolutely mean she's married? No. As always, we don't know any of them personally, so we can't say for sure. But simple, not-a-reach logic tells us that the way she's worn that ring is significant.

With that ring, Nicola has told us in no uncertain terms that she is in a significant, committed relationship (possibly engaged or married since October). And she's been in that relationship (or at least committed in her heart to that relationship) consistently since at least June (really, late April/early May when she commissioned it).

Will we ever know exactly what happened last summer while she and Luke were apart (Sorrento, Spain, Malta, etc.)? No, we won't — and frankly it’s none of our business (as curious as we may be).

But we know that Nicola's heart was taken by the same person throughout. Because logically, would she really have been so into Luke in June when all of the above happened (commission, putting it on, meeting mom)... then break it off... then, by October, find a new person to be so committed to switch her ring to the left hand? The math just doesn't math on that one.

It was Luke in June and it was Luke in October. And she's still wearing that ring in the same direction as of Wednesday night. So yes, it's still Luke.

But I promised you more recent hints and crumbs to support my certainty. Honestly, @frantastical has this stuff so magnificently catalogued that you really should check out that incredibly comprehensive "Multitude of Morsels" if you haven't already.

Still, here's a small handful of (by no means comprehensive) things I've seen with my own eyes in just the last month that have told me I'm sitting in exactly the right restaurant on exactly the right ship:

New Pink News story posted with an old quote (that would have been approved by Nic's team) where Nicola says, "That's all I want, is the girls and the gays. And Luke."

Both Ryan Wheeler and Shondaland openly shipping Lukola ("get married for real")

Nic's year-end photo dump threaded through with Luke, both directly and indirectly

Luke's year-end photo dump threaded through with Nic

Even one of Nic’s Doctor Who photos, which isn't associated with Bridgerton at all, managed to nod at Luke

Video clip re-emerges of the Featherington women giggling when Bessie teases, "Well, two people fell in looove, I gueeessss," then they all giggle and agree that they can't say who

Both of them unaccounted for over Christmas and New Year's (days that are usually spent with significant others) while the adjacents were both accounted for on both holidays

Old story somehow emerges in which Nicola says Luke makes everything better, and Luke says about the "friends to lovers" story that "that's what happened to us when we met." (I'm probably slightly paraphrasing, but close enough.)

Nicola turns up with a tan

Luke turns up with a tan

Luke comes online very briefly, just long enough to congratulate Nic on her SAG nomination, cheering on his queen, and then he's gone

Nicola posts a birthday photo that appears to be a cozy dinner for two with several hints of Luke, most notably the red and yellow flowers (red is for love; most people focused on yellow being for friendship, and I think that's true, but I also very much think it's for Polin. And either way, "friends to lovers" or "love and Polin," those flowers say Luke.)

Luke likes a Jack Rooke post about Big Boys. Bearing in mind that JR is one of Nicola's longstanding, closest friends, this clearly suggests Luke is getting to know him

Nicola swoops in to distract from last weekend's mess with a new, obviously staged pap drop (based on weather, likely from a while in the past and kept on hand for when it was needed), once again protecting Luke and his family

And then there are a handful of crumbs and hints that point to something else that I've been reluctant to talk about. I still won't get into it here, but I will say that there are definitely recent things that are suggesting to me a very specific, very happy story. These include:

ETA: Photo of Nic with two Dunkin drinks & two straws (drinking for two?)

"Shit Stirrer" tee-shirt, holding shirt just so with photo cropped very particularly (who exactly is the shit stirrer in that photo?)

"May your 2025 be as happy as this potato made me" (which potato?)

Video with the hot water bottle

Big Boys (clearly wearing the ring)

And that is literally all I will say about that. But let's just remember that all of this has taken place while Nicola continues to wear that Claddagh ring on her left hand, pointed toward her heart. Even in those silly pap photos with Jake from Monday.

The only times we've seen her without it were when she wore special, fancy jewelry for events (showy hand jewelry that she could prominently display by placing her hands in front of her stomach instead of on her waist or hips). Every other time, it's either there or her hands are (perhaps intentionally) hidden.

Doubtless some "realistic Lukolas" will read this and say, "But you're ignoring all the photos of Jake and obvious proof of how close they are."

To which I reply, "Yes, I am." Because I've written loads about that relationship, what it is, why it is so heavily documented, and what they each get out of it (other than friendship). Again, if you want to know more, feel free to read my blog. But those photos mean nothing to me because I understand the truth that lies beneath them. I have absolutely nothing against Jake. I think he's been a good friend to Nic, but that's all he is.

Meanwhile, we've seen nary a peep from Luke except to cheer on his girl, and going back a bit further, that very happy looking S4 selfie with Nic. Has anyone ever noticed how much more he smiles with Nicola than anyone else? His actual smile ratio with Nic compared to literally anyone else is off the charts.

So, yeah, it's Luke all the way. I don't know for sure when it started (might tackle that in a different blog), and I'm not sure how many times they've pressed the on/off button before locking in, but I absolutely believe they are fully locked in now. The evidence is everywhere.

As always, I say these two things. First, we know nothing for sure until Nic or Luke or both of them together make it absolutely, incontrovertibly clear to us. So could I be wrong? Yes, it's certainly possible. If I'm wrong, I'll admit it, and I admit right now that I will be heartbroken. I'm not going to front about this. But I don't think I'm wrong.

Second, you are very free to draw different conclusions. However, if you wish to do so, I invite you to consider the evidence as presented first. Especially if you've given up the ship because you're afraid to believe.

Have no fear, Lukolas. The evidence is on your side.

[themultifanshipper]

Can you do a size kink with George Russell, please?

It’s not your fault your genetics didn’t bless you with height. And it’s not your fault the universe decided to give you a fucking giant for a boyfriend. 

Warnings: smut, I didn’t know whether you meant size kink as in big dick kink or just body size kink so I did both!, online trolling but nothing too bad, very quick mention of breeding kink, belly bulge, also I couldn't resist making some fake tweets

When the internet finally figured out (it wasn’t hard, you were short even in heels) that you were over a foot shorter than your boyfriend, the memes started. And they never stopped. 

You weren’t upset, or angry at them. You knew they meant no harm, and you had a sense of humour about it. You even liked some of them on twitter, which always sent the fans into a frenzy, and in a way it gave them permission to make more. 

You’d been scrolling through the latest batch when George walked in. 

He was searching through his bag for something and had his back to you. 

You observed him silently. Noting how the muscles shifted in his back, and how his arms flexed when he dragged things out of the bag. 

You liked that your boyfriend was bigger than you. It had its advantages, you felt safe when you cuddled because he could wrap around you so fully, and he could pick you up easily, and manhandle you as if you weighed nothing... 

You snapped out of it and carried on scrolling down your twitter hashtag. Your name trended every single time you went to the track. 

You scoffed loudly when your eyes landed on a certain gif. 

The one with the train and the tunnel, you know the one. 

George wondered what had caught your attention and came to lie next to you on the hotel bed to see your screen. 

You looked at the replies to that tweet, and the first one made you laugh. 

You cackled and George snatched the phone to type out a response, scowling the whole time. 

He gave it back and stared at you, waiting for your reaction. 

You laughed even harder and he raised his eyebrows at you. 

“Think this is funny, do you?” 

You nodded, wiping away the tears in your eyes. 

“The PR team is going to give you so much shit for that” you giggled. 

“I don’t care, I can’t have rumours like that start circulating about me”  

Your hand landed on his thigh as you looked up at him through your lashes. “I didn’t know your ego was so fragile. You sure there isn’t any truth to it?” 

He leaned in, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You of all people should know how well I know how to please you” he muttered. 

“I don’t know... I might need some more convincing” you purred, turning your head to capture his lips in a sensual kiss. 

He groaned into it, crawling over your body to trap you under him. 

You whimpered, just at the feel of his all-encompassing presence over you. 

“Then, allow me to demonstrate” 

He trailed downwards immediately, taking your sleep shorts off on the way and spreading your legs. 

He kissed up your inner thigh, getting dangerously close to where you wanted him. 

The first teasing lick made you let out a shuddering gasp, which made him smirk. 

“I guess I'm lucky that you’re so easy to please” he teased and you rolled your eyes. 

“It wasn’t your oral skills that were in question, darling” you remarked. 

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he tried to control himself. 

“Fine, if you’re going to be a brat...” he grabbed your hips and swiftly turned you over, extremely easily. “Then you deserve to limp tomorrow” 

You whimpered into the pillows and he gave your ass a harsh spank. 

“Hips up, legs spread. I’ll get the lube” 

Because the truth was, George had absolutely nothing to compensate for. He had a massive dick, and he indeed knew how to use it. 

Lube wasn’t always necessary, because he generally prepped you perfectly well enough to take him without issues.  

But sometimes you liked it a bit rougher, you wanted to feel it. 

So instead of prepping you, he would use as much lube as he needed to make it fit. 

He poured a load on your ass and watched it drip down your folds, reveling in the hiss you let out at the coldness. 

He slicked himself up, way more than necessary, and spread you open while he watched his tip slide over your entrance. 

“Colour?” 

“Green” you gasped, the anticipation was killing you. 

He pushed the tip in and waited for the satisfied exhale he knew would come from you. He knew you inside and out by now. 

And like clockwork, you breathed out a gasp, and begged him to continue. 

He obliged, pushing another couple of inches in. 

You were so fucking tight, yet so fucking slick around him, he could feel his composure slipping. 

“Still good?” he asked, voice tight with arousal. 

“Please” you begged. 

He let out a breath, and pushed another few inches in. 

Only half way in, he met your cervix, and you whined at the stretch when he pushed in even more. 

“Doing so good for me, baby” he praised, stroking your trembling thighs. Any minute now they were going to give out. 

With the height advantage, George could lean over your arched back, and plant his hands either side of your head and grind his hips in circles, slowly but surely getting more of him inside you. 

His movements made him rub against your insides insistently, your cervix, your g-spot, everything was being stimulated. It was always intense like this. 

“George!” you whined loudly “So full, oh my god-” 

“Almost there, darling. Just a couple more inches. You want to be good for me don’t you?” 

You nodded, whimpering as he continued his maddening slow grind. 

When he finally bottomed out he let out a pained groan and his hips stopped completely. 

“There we go... good girl taking all of me”  

He pulled out half way and dribbled some more lube on his cock, making sure the slide was as wet as possible. 

He stroked your thighs tenderly, pushing you down so you were laying flat on the bed with your legs together, taking the pressure off your hips. 

He propped himself up with his elbows either side of your head and gave an experimental snap of his hips. 

Your responding moan encouraged him to do it again, picking up the pace as his skin slapped against your ass repeatedly. 

This was both of yours’ favourite position. 

The angle meant that he was bullying your g-spot repeatedly without bruising your cervix too much, and you could feel his looming presence completely draped over you, like some kind of predator pinning you down to breed you. 

It drove you wild to know that you couldn’t really move, forced to take his girth as you lay there helplessly. 

“If only they could see you now” George rasped “whining and begging for the cock that should be too big for you...”  

It didn’t take long for him to drive you over the edge, but that didn’t stop him. 

He turned you over and held you up by your hips, hovering inches above the sheets as he slid into you again. 

It really was as if you weighed nothing to George, his large hands splayed over your hips, fingers digging into your flesh while he used his grip on you to shove you onto his cock repeatedly. 

“Look baby, look at how big my cock is inside you” he panted and you looked down to see the bulge prodruding from your lower stomach.  

Your moans echoed in the hotel room, and you’d be worried about the neighboring rooms if you weren’t getting your insides rearranged at that particular moment. 

In this position you could feel him so much deeper, and he forced you through another orgasm before letting go himself and coming deep inside you as you writhed in his hold. 

You panted, hair sticking to your face as you looked up at him dazedly, and he laughed. 

“What’s so funny?” you asked. 

“Just thinking of the memes that are going to come out after people see you limping tomorrow”  

You huffed out a laugh and leaned up to kiss him. 

“Actually I don’t feel too bad. I think my cervix got away with it this time” 

George chuckled. He leaned down, pressing you into the mattress. 

“It’s cute that you think I’m even remotely done with you”... 

The next day ...

[spidori]

I grew up on their stuff, and I don't just mean PBS kids (although mr. Rogers, Sesame Street, and Cyber Chase were formative for sure.)

I'm talking about things like Nova or Nature. Those series introduced me to a world so much larger and more intricately detailed than anything else could put in front of me. Even my visits to the Smithsonian can't compare despite the quality; as detailed as they were, they were also rare events, PBS brought something on the same order of magnitude into my living room so it could become a fixture for me to build my worldview around.

That level of wonder being available to me so consistently didn't teach me to think- I was lucky enough to have some wonderful people in my life for that- but it did make me want to learn how to. I wanted to understand the black holes, or the evolution of dogs, or whatever else might be on Nova this week. And if I was gonna do that I needed to learn how to learn and learn quickly. I also wanted to see how cheetahs hunting was different from lions was different from wolves, or see how different animals survived in the desert, or just marvel at the beauty of birds, or whatever else was the subject of this episode of Nature. I got to see a tiny bit of how cool the living things of the planet are! From my living room!

I understand deeply how having such detail and nuance normalized for me from such an early age helped me tremendously when accepting that the same level of nuance could be in other places, and that I could learn about it and come to understand, just like with the subjects on Nova. Not to mention there would probably be beauty and joy in whatever new-to-me part of the world I stumbled into mixed in with the hardships, just like with Nature.

PBS gave me that. For free. Because a bunch of people wanted that type of quality program to be available to people like me. In the optimistic hope that they didn't need to sell it, or anything else, to me in order to do it. They gambled on people wanting good for others. I don't know the words to express how grateful I am that they did, and were right.

In science, a common concept is that "if I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants." Probably most famously repeated by Issac Newton. People don't always think about how we got to those shoulders, about the process of climbing to those peaks, or how to make the climb easier. Thank you PBs, and all the people who made it happen at every level, for bringing me signposts outlining the way up so many, offering the glimpses of the peaks that gave me reason and inspiration to climb, and paving the way through the basics to give me a smooth start. I appreciate all of it tremendously.

And that's not even getting started on all the non science content.

I couldn’t reboot it for some reason

[tfwbluu]

PAIRING — jungwon + f!reader

WARNINGS — exhibitionism, fingering, oral (f. rec), pet names, cum eating, he’s lowkey rough and a bit mean, just more kink talking.

WORDCOUNT — 0.6K

NOTE — finally finished writing the kinks series for all members >< i hope this is up to your standards, special meal for my moot ! lmk if i need to add anything to warnings <3

Jungwon knows you love his hands, and he uses that to his advantage—whether it’s caressing your thighs under the table, gripping your waist or hips, or having them buried deep inside you, completely covered in your arousal.

“Yeah, that’s it… cum all over my fingers, angel,” he murmured, not minding how your hands gripped his wrists tightly, as he curled his fingers just right inside you.

He doesn’t care whether you’re in the privacy of your home or out in public. If there’s an opportunity to have you, he’ll take it—even if it means teasing you under the table, calm as ever, while his fingers push you closer to the edge with people nearby.

“Oh, she’s not feeling well at the moment. Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled,” he said with an innocent smile to concerned staff members. The second they left, he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “You’re drenched, pretty. Do you want them to know how much of a mess you are for my fingers?” He pushed your panties aside and slid a finger inside, making you yelp softly.

Jungwon most definitely has an edging kink or some form of orgasm control. There’s something about the way he teases the fuck out of you, bringing you so close with his fingers only to stop at the last second, just to see your lips tremble and tears well up in your eyes.

“Aww, are you close?” he asked, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. Just when you thought you were about to fall over the edge, he pulled his fingers away, leaving you a whining mess.

“Shh, be a good girl,” he whispered, pressing his palm firmly against your soaked pussy before teasing your entrance again, curling his fingers fast and deep, coaxing more of your juices out with ruined orgasms.

He’s mean like that—making you work for him. He loves watching you desperately grind against his thigh, completely bare while he stays fully clothed, your wetness soaking his pants.

“Come on, work for it, baby. Maybe then I’ll reward you,” he cooed, gently tucking a strand of hair out of your face. His gaze drifted down to your hips moving desperately against him. “So pretty.”

He may not be the strongest in the group, but he’s strong enough to manhandle you into any position he pleases—especially when he pins your wrists behind your back as he pounds into you mercilessly, leaving you no choice but to take it.

“Stop squirming and take it, baby,” he growled, his grip firm on your wrists as his hips moved harder and faster. “Pretty little pussy taking me so well,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your back as you melted under him.

He likes doing quickies. The type to drag you into a small, quiet room, push you to your knees, and have you suck him off before heading back to work like nothing happened. He’s busy, after all, and the least you could do is be a good girl and take care of him, right?

“Quiet,” he whispered, his voice low and commanding as he hastily undid his belt and pants. With one firm motion, he pushed you down onto your knees, his cock already hard and finding its place in your mouth. “Take it, baby, I gotta be quick… please,” he muttered, gripping your hair tightly as he thrust into your mouth. His movements were fast and rough, his release hot and thick as it spilled deep down your throat.

But he’s also a jealous little shit who doesn’t care if you have somewhere to be—he’ll make sure you’re marked up and completely claimed before letting you leave. His bites, kisses, and possessive touch ensure everyone knows exactly who you belong to.

“Can that guy fuck you this good, baby?” he growled, slamming into you with such intensity that your moans came out broken and desperate, your nails digging into his arms for support. “All mine,” he whispered darkly, his teeth sinking into your neck, leaving yet another mark as proof of his ownership.

TAGLIST — @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny @d-dilemma

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PRINCE!ANAKIN HEADCANONS 👑

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Prince!Anakin who was a ruthless, meticulous, arrogant.. yet somehow with a heart. For others he was simple a wise and intellectual future king

Prince!Anakin whose marriage between him and you was arranged to solidify an alliance between your two kingdoms, a necessity driven by political and military pressures. Anakin, now King after the recent death of his father, was resistant to the idea of marriage, especially one born out of duty rather than love. He had always been wary of love, having seen the toll it took on those around him, particularly his own family.

Prince!Anakin who refused to consumate your marriage at the beginning

Prince!Anakin who, at the beginning, highlighted the true reason of your marriage and put you in the other part of the castle so you two wouldn't see each other

Prince!Anakin who is known as a formidable and stern ruler, deeply dedicated to his kingdom. He built emotional walls around his heart, vowing never to let anyone close enough to hurt him. When you first arrived at court, he treated you with cold politeness, making it clear that this marriage was a political arrangement, not a romantic one. And yet, in contrast, you entered the marriage with hope, a believer in fairytales and the possibility of finding love even in an arranged union. Despite Anakin's cold demeanor, you remained kind and patient, trying to find small ways to connect with him (but after his countless cold responds you grew yourself impatient and sharp in tongue, although he was your king, so..being nice had to be in place..at least in public)

Prince!Anakin who, over time, began to notice your unwavering optimism and the light you brought into his otherwise pragmatic and calculated life. He admired your strength and the way you handled court politics with grace, but he kept his distance emotionally, afraid of what letting you in would mean.

Prince!Anakin who felt somehow attracted to you, even if he didn't plan this marriage, he didn't want to be married to you, yet there was just something about you he found unique, alluring and he couldn't help but be drawn to your presence (which was very frustrating and weird for him)

Prince!Anakin who whenever you asked for something he always came up with 'ask for anything and it'll be given to you. Even the half of my kingdom' thing

Prince!Anakin who, after your relentless asking, took you hunting;

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, are you sure this is an appropriate place for the queen?" one of the men spoke, clearly uneasy.

Anakin shot him an irritated glare, his patience wearing thin. He was acutely aware that the hunting grounds weren't exactly the safest place for the queen, especially given her delicate condition. But there was little he could do about it now. He’d much rather have her safely ensconced in the palace, yet the situation demanded otherwise.

His frustration mounted as more and more people questioned his decisions. He knew what he was doing; he didn’t need anyone else second-guessing him.

"Are you questioning my decision?" he snapped, turning his horse to face the man directly. The intensity in his eyes made it clear he wasn't in the mood for dissent.

The man visibly flinched, his face paling. "I—I’m merely pointing out that, perhaps, hunting isn't a... lady-like activity for the queen," he stuttered, his voice wavering. The courtiers around them shifted uncomfortably, their gazes dropping.

Anakin's hands tightened into fists around the reins of his horse. The growing annoyance was palpable in his stance. He had been patient long enough, but this was the last straw.

"Who's the king here, me or you?" he growled, his voice low and dangerously firm. His eyes narrowed, the simmering anger barely contained. He understood the risks; it was precisely why he hadn't wanted her to join. But her presence here was a necessity, and he wouldn’t tolerate any more questioning of his authority.

Anakin watched with growing concern as you struggled to ride your horse. Despite his efforts to focus on the path ahead, his gaze kept drifting to you. He saw your difficulty and felt a deep, instinctive urge to help you, to lift you onto his own horse and spare you this struggle. His grip on the reins tightened as he forced himself to look away.

"Stop that horse; you’re going to hurt yourself," he muttered, bringing his horse to a halt.

You wrestled with the reins, your legs trembling as you finally managed to bring the horse to a stop. Breathing heavily, you glanced over at him.

Anakin's eyes scanned over you with concern. You were clearly struggling, sweat glistening on your skin, the gorset clinging uncomfortably. Despite your evident distress, you still looked captivating, and it was driving him to distraction.

"Can you get down yourself, or do you need help?" he asked, his voice firm but laced with concern.

"I think I can manage," you mumbled, attempting to dismount. You nearly stumbled as you got down, and Anakin's brow furrowed, expecting you to fall. To his relief, you managed to stay upright, though he couldn't hide his frustration.

He shook his head and approached, knowing it was too risky to let you continue riding alone. Your struggle was wearing him thin, and he couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt.

"You can’t even get off a horse without almost falling," he said with a scoff.

You shot him a defiant glare, walking over to him "Not all of us are as skilled at riding as you are, Your Highness," you retorted with a touch of sarcasm, your voice dripping with mockery.

He helped you onto his horse, his hands steady as he guided you into the saddle. As you settled in, your hip brushed against his, sending a jolt through both of you. Your heart raced, and you had to look away, struggling to steady your breath.

The accidental touch ignited a fierce longing in Anakin. He let out a small, strained laugh, trying to remain composed. He positioned himself before you, his body pressing against your back as he mounted the horse behind you.

"Take the horse back to the castle," he instructed, his voice low and firm.

As he took the reins, his presence pressed against you, the tension between you palpable. Every movement seemed to heighten the charged atmosphere, and both of you were acutely aware of the closeness.

Your hands tightened around his waist, your body pressed firmly against his back. The sweet vanilla scent of yours filled his senses, and he could feel the warmth of your curves against him "Hold tight. This won’t be a slow ride," he said, his voice rough and low.

->

You gasped as he urged the horse into a faster pace. "I thought we were going hunting?" your breath warm against his ear.

The closeness of your voice managed to sent a shiver down his spine. Yet, he pushed those distracting thoughts aside and focused on guiding the horse through the hunting grounds.

"It’ll take a while to reach the animals," he replied curtly, the horse’s speed increasing.

"Slow down for—"

He smirked when he felt your grip tighten around his waist. Your face was buried against him, and he could almost feel your fear. It was both thrilling and maddening, and he could hardly ignore how much he enjoyed your closeness.

"Stop whining," he said, amusement lacing his voice.

Your fingers this time dug into his skin with your voice tinged with panic. "I’m not whining!" you protested, your breath hitching as the horse made another sharp turn.

He felt your fingers leaving an imprint on his muscles. The sensation only heightened his awareness of how tightly they were pressed together. He found himself wishing she would hold on even tighter.

"You’re going to leave marks on my stomach with your fingers," he said in a low, almost teasing tone, not easing the horse’s pace.

With a scoff, you dug your fingernails in a little deeper. "Good. Maybe it’ll teach you to slow down a bit."

As you arrived at the wooden hunting cabin nestled in the forest, Anakin led the way inside, with you following closely. The two courtiers stayed outside, leaving you alone.

"Do you know how to use a bow?" Anakin asked, his gaze fixed on a collection of hunting gear.

"Yes, my father taught me," you mumbled, your attention drawn to the array of stuffed animals lining the walls.

Anakin moved to the shelves, picking up various pieces of hunting equipment. He tried to stay focused, but he couldn't ignore the way your beautiful, the prettiest he had ever seen eyes wandered around the rustic cabin, intrigued by its contents. In some way, he wanted his gaze on him, only on him

"So, I assume you're quite skilled with the bow?"

"The last time I held a bow was ten years ago. We'll see," your tone light but confident.

He walked over to you, extending the bow toward you. His gaze lingered on you, noting how your hair was tousled from the wind and those eyes sparkled with curiosity. As he held out the bow, your hands brushed lightly, sending a subtle jolt through him.

"Let’s see if you haven’t forgotten how to shoot," he said, his voice carrying a playful edge.

you couldn't help but roll your eyes with your lips curling into a teasing smile. "Careful, Your Highness. I might mistake you for a doe."

Anakin’s brow arched in amusement. Your sarcasm was endearing, and he had to suppress a smirk at the thought of you aiming a bow at him. He moved a little closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Would you shoot me in the heart, my little doe?"

"Absolutely, I would."

A slow, teasing smirk spread across his lips at your response. The intensity in your voice stirred something primal within him. He found himself torn between wanting to silence you with a kiss and reveling in your boldness.

"Or would you aim right between the eyes?" he challenged, his tone a mix of amusement and desire.

"I’d not dream of anything better, Your Highness," you whispered with venom "i’d watch as crimson red liquid overwhelms your face while you beg for mercy, choking on your own blood."

Anakin shivered at your words, the mix of irritation and arousal making his control slip. You were infuriatingly charming, and your fierce spirit only made you more tempting. Yet, he wanted to shut you up, but he was equally captivated by your daring. His expression hardened a little due to your boldness

"You’re a little minx, you know that?"

"Oh, Your Highness," you replied with mock sweetness, "I’m your worst nightmare," and with a final glare, you turned and walked away, leaving him in the cabin.

Prince!Anakin who, one night, after a particularly stressful day dealing with court matters, found you in the royal gardens, talking softly to a group of children about a fairytale. Something about the way you spoke, the softness in your voice, and the way the children adored you, made him pause. For the first time, he truly saw you—not just as his queen, but as a woman who brought warmth and light into a cold, stone palace.

Prince!Anakin who slowly began to fall in love with you without even realizing it. He found himself seeking your counsel on matters of state, not just because you were his queen, but because he valued your opinion. Your presence became a comfort to him, a constant in his life that he didn’t want to lose. Yet, he struggled with these feelings, as they contradicted his vow to never love.

Prince!Anakin who, in time, began searching for your presence in every place, your voice in every conversation, your eyes in every crowd

Prince!Anakin who sometimes appeared in your chambers at night;

"Leave us," Anakin commanded, his voice firm, though laced with an undercurrent of urgency.

The maids exchanged quick glances but obeyed, slipping out of the room and leaving them alone in the softly lit quarters. Her room was a sanctuary, filled with warmth and quiet elegance, but the atmosphere now was thick with unspoken emotions and the heat of longing.

The moment the door clicked shut, he moved with a sudden, desperate urgency, closing the distance between them. His lips crashed against hers, the kiss searing with the force of everything he’d been holding back.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you both tumbled onto the bed, his weight pressing into you. "Your Highness—why the rush?" you teased, breathless and amused, though your heart pounded in sync with his.

He didn’t respond with words; instead, his lips trailed down your neck, each kiss more fervent than the last. The feel of your skin under his mouth was intoxicating, each soft gasp from you spurring him on. He had held back for so long, but now, he was overwhelmed by his need for you, by the depth of his desire. It was as if all the weeks and months of pent-up emotions had broken free, and he was helpless to resist.

"Can’t wait," he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a raw hunger that sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved to pin you beneath him, his grip firm yet reverent, as though he was afraid you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

He looked into your eyes, his gaze dark and filled with an intensity that took your breath away. The world outside this room ceased to exist; all that mattered was the heat between you, the undeniable pull that had finally won out over duty and decorum.

"Neither can I," you whispered back, your hands sliding up his arms, feeling the taut muscles beneath his clothing as he leaned in, capturing your lips once more.

"Doe, what are you doing?" he murmured, his morning voice raspy and thick with sleep.

"You're in my bed and already reading papers," you mumbled, pressing soft, lingering kisses to his shoulder

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he felt your lips on him. Your touch was one of his favorite things, a soothing balm against the constant demands of his royal duties. But then, reality intruded, and a sigh escaped his lips, the weight of his responsibilities settling back onto his shoulders.

"I have meetings all morning," he said, his tone carrying a hint of frustration, the thought of leaving you so soon already souring his mood.

"Just show up a little later," you whispered against his ear, her voice a playful challenge. "Aren't you the king?"

His eyes fluttering shut as he savored the feeling of your breath on his neck. The temptation to stay was overwhelming. All he wanted was to remain here, wrapped in your warmth, to forget the world outside. But the demands of the crown were relentless, and he knew he couldn’t shirk his duties, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Wish I could stay here with you all morning," he mumbled with a sigh, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your arm. His voice held a slight edge of grumpiness, the conflict between his desires and his obligations clear.

"We can make it quick," you whispered into his ear

He could practically hear the smirk in your voice, and he knew you had him exactly where you wanted. He was already running late, but with your body pressed so temptingly against his, all thoughts of duty and meetings started to fade.

In one swift motion, he turned, pinning you beneath him on the bed "How quick?" he asked, his voice a husky growl

"Ten minutes?" you grinned

He scoffed, a smirk curving his lips as he leaned in closer, his body pressing you deeper into the mattress, trapping you between his strong arms. You were a temptress, and he knew you could very well be his undoing, but right now, he didn’t care.

"Ten minutes?" he repeated, his hands sliding further up your thighs, fingers brushing against your heated skin. "Now you're just underestimating me," he murmured before capturing your lips with his, sealing his surrender.

Prince!Anakin who moved you back to his bedroom, with no care if in other places the queen has her own bed to sleep in

Prince!Anakin who had his own moment when he realized just how much he cared for you—perhaps during a crisis when you were in danger, and he found himself terrified at the thought of losing you;

Anakin sat in his dimly lit office, his mind consumed by the latest stack of documents that required his attention. The weight of ruling often bore down on him, but he carried it with the strength and resilience expected of a king. Yet, as he heard the soft but urgent footsteps approaching from behind, he felt a strange unease settle in his chest. He looked up, finding his old counselor standing before him, a grim expression etched across his face.

"What is it this time?" Anakin asked, his tone impatient as he set the papers aside.

The counselor hesitated for a moment before speaking, "It’s the queen, your highness..."

Anakin’s eyes narrowed instantly, his heart skipping a beat. The mention of you, his queen, brought an immediate sense of dread. His voice turned sharp, almost cutting. "What about her?"

The counselor’s face paled, his voice almost trembling as he replied, "Her condition has worsened."

Anakin shot up from his chair, the fear and panic he had buried deep within now clawing its way to the surface. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. He fixed his counselor with an intense gaze, the demand in his voice barely masked by his rising desperation. "What do you mean ‘worsened’? What has happened?"

"She’s been battling a high fever for the past two days," one of the maids interjected softly, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "Her wounds... they’re not healing as they should. Her condition is deteriorating, your highness."

Without another word, Anakin stormed out of his office, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He moved with a speed fueled by fear, every step echoing the growing terror that he might lose you. When he reached your chambers, he pushed open the door with a force that sent a gust of air rushing into the room.

There you lay, on the grand bed that now seemed to dwarf your frail figure. Your skin was pale, marred by the angry red wounds that refused to heal, and your breaths were shallow, labored. Every whimper, every groan that escaped your lips felt like a dagger to his heart.

Anakin crossed the room in swift strides, his hand immediately finding its place on your fevered cheek. The heat of your skin burned against his fingers, and the sight of you in such agony nearly brought him to his knees. The fierce king, known for his strength and resolve, felt utterly powerless in the face of your suffering.

"Leave us," he commanded, his voice laced with authority, though his eyes never left you.

"Your highness, but—" one of the maids began to protest.

"I said leave us!" he repeated, his tone brooking no argument. The maids exchanged uneasy glances before hurriedly leaving the room, closing the door behind them.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by your shallow breaths and the occasional soft moan of pain. Anakin sat down on the edge of the bed, his heart breaking as he took in your weakened state. You looked so fragile, yet even in your pain, there was a beauty about you that took his breath away.

"It’s so painful..." you whispered, your voice hoarse, barely audible.

Anakin felt his chest tighten, a deep sense of guilt and helplessness washing over him. He gently stroked your fevered face, his thumb tracing the contours of your cheek. "I know, my love," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m so sorry... I wish I could take this pain away from you."

He carefully pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as if his embrace could shield you from the torment ravaging your body. He held you close, feeling the intense heat radiating from your fevered skin, the trembling of your weakened frame. It was as if holding you tighter could somehow anchor you to him, keep you from slipping away.

"Shh, I’ve got you," he whispered into your ear, his voice a soothing balm against the storm of pain that wracked your body. He gently caressed your hair, his touch tender and full of the love he struggled to express in words.

With a wet cloth in hand, Anakin carefully dabbed it against your wounds, the coolness providing a fleeting relief. He moved with a delicate precision, his fingers trembling slightly as he worked. The sight of your suffering was unbearable, yet he forced himself to remain calm, to be strong for you.

"I’m here," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly as he pressed the cloth against your fevered skin.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as he closed his eyes, silently praying for your recovery. Anakin, the king who had faced countless battles, was now facing his greatest fear—losing you, the one person who had made his life worth living.

And in that moment, he would have given anything, sacrificed anything, to see you smile again.

You closed your eyes, your voice small and strained as you spoke. "You shouldn’t look at me... I’m revolting."

"Revolting?" The word was almost laughable to him. Even now, when you were so weakened by illness, you were still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. "You’re not revolting. You’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful," he said with a quiet intensity, his fingers brushing tenderly against your cheek.

"Have you seen my arms?" you asked, your voice tinged with bitterness.

He glanced down at your arms, at the wounds that marred your once flawless skin. The sight of them filled him with a deep sorrow, but it didn’t change the way he felt. "Yes," he replied, his tone unwavering. His fingers gently traced the inflamed skin, his touch feather-light as if afraid to cause you more pain.

You flinched slightly, the tenderness of your wounds evident. "Does this look beautiful to you?" you muttered, disbelief coloring your words.

Anakin let out a soft, almost incredulous scoff. How could you not see what he saw? Even with the pain and the sickness, you were still the woman who had stolen his heart, the woman who made him believe in something beyond duty and power. "Yes, it does. You’re beautiful, no matter what. Sick, wounded, healthy—it doesn’t matter. I will always see you as the most beautiful woman in the world," he declared, his voice firm, eyes burning with sincerity.

He saw the doubt flicker in your eyes, and it pained him deeply. How could you be so blind to your own beauty? To the strength and grace that still radiated from you, even now?

He leaned closer, his fingers drifting down to trace the delicate line of your collarbone, his touch reverent, almost worshipful. "You have no idea how stunning you are," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, meant only for your ears. "Even like this, you take my breath away."

Prince!Anakin who's one of few hobbies was making love to you;

he loved to tease you about heirs. he brought it up often, with a playful tone, but deep down, the desire was real and intense. The thought of you carrying his child, your belly round, your breasts swollen ignited a fierce, possessive longing within him. He wanted to see you like this - pregnant and full of new life

"gonna give me heirs, hm?" he whispered with his pace quickening

your sweet, breathless moans only spurred him on. You were so beautiful beneath him, your flushed cheeks and heaving chest making you look even more irresistible, if that's possible

"you'd look so goddamn stunning with my heir inside you, sweetheart" his voice a rough murmur

his cock, all envelopted by your squishy walls, moved deeper to reach his, and yours, edge "you'd be mine, completely. Carrying my child, you'd belong to me in every way"

"am i not yours already?" you panted

his lips connected with yours, making sure to nipp on your bottom lip "you are mine, love..but having you carry my child..it's a whole other kind of mine" he groaned, his large hands moving over to your hips

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[themoonbutspooky]

the thing is, in a fair setting, non-disabled people won't use accommodations they don't need. I really believe this. They might try out say extra time on a test but if you don't need it, it'll get annoying. Sitting around in the test room for an extra 45 minutes thinking over the same things you know and don't know doesn't actually improve your test score.

There's a thousand reasons someone might need an accommodation. Maybe it takes them a long time to write and those extra minutes compensate for that. Maybe they panic under pressure and they need the extra time to regulate their breathing, and calm down enough to remember what they know. They might need long enough to double check their arithmetic or their spelling so they can show that they understand the concept they're actually being tested on not repeatedly graded down for something unrelated. More people might benefit from extra time than think they might but extra time isn't universally or inherently better.

If you're reading this and thinking "hey well I would definitely take the extra 45 that would boost my score for sure!" I hope you get a chance to see if its true. Either you'll realize it doesn't help and that's one thing you can cross off the list of things to try or it will help and well ... hi welcome to the club!

This same logic works for different accommodations. For example: my cpap is a miracle but it also sucks and is awkward to use I can't imagine someone using one if it didn't help them.

The problem is settings are rarely fair. Students are routinely asked to preform under time crunches that are impossible or nearly impossible. Extra time, then, seems obviously better for everyone. SSI seems obviously better too. After all, who doesn't want free money? But like the cpap there are drawbacks. And like the extra time on tests there are unfair circumstances that might make those draw backs worth it even to a hypothetical completely well/able-bodied/neurotypical person.

I would never tell someone struggling to keep up with mutliple jobs, family obligations, debt, etc that they aren't disabled enough to pursue any deal they think is worth it just because its their circumstance and not their biology that's putting the pressure on them. Obviously in a perfect world we'd fix the whole system or build something better but in the mean time if it helps more than it hurts it shouldn't matter why. tbh that brings up a lot of questions about how we define what is and isn't a disability in general but this isn't even my original post so I'll save it for another time.

Fake claimers are a much bigger threat to disabled people than fakers ever will be.

[sc0tters]

A Helping Hand | Jack Hughes & Trevor Zegras

summary: when the boys learn that you've never finished, it's only right that they change that for you.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, threesome, oral (f & m receiving!), unprotected sex, fingering, swearing, mentions of drinking.

word count: 7.02k

authors note: is it really a trevor and jack threesome from me, without @sweetestdesire's help? no, no it is not... all jokes aside though this may be the dirtiest piece that I have ever written? like i embraced my inner slut, whore and everything inbetween while writing this so I do hope that you enjoy it! I know I did so we may end up with the first series of the year with this one!

Nobody truly remembered how you all got there.

Sat around the camp fire with a blanket thrown over your legs and a beer in your hand. 

It was these little moments at the lake house that you adored so much. Luke was in the chair next to you, allowing you to send him the occasional whisper after the boys did something stupid. 

Tonight was one of those nights as Cole managed to convince the group to play never have I ever, after Quinn’s suggestion of truth or dare was quickly shot down by Jack reminder of how he had to go skinny dipping in the lake. When the boys stole his clothes and locked him outside, it was the first and last time truth or dare made an appearance at the lake house.

You sighed thinking to yourself of a question“never have I ever done the walk of shame.” It was a good one to get most of the guys to drop a finger as Luke had told you about many of their escapades throughout their careers. 

A while left Trevor’s lips “that one isn’t fair!” He grumbled dropping another finger leaving him with only two up.

Alex looked at the group of girls that had joined you guys as he had found one he wanted to make a move on “never have I ever faked an orgasm.” The boy swore he was going to do a dance of happiness when he saw the blonde one he had been talking to, keep her finger up whilst the first around her thought about their answers.

Your finger went down hoping that someone else would have a much more interesting story to share than you “are you seriously telling me that your little football player boyfriend was shit in bed?” Trevor asked as he let out a laugh seeing your cheeks turn a shade of red. 

Jack turned to you, matching his friend’s curious expression “who is to say it was even with him?” It was something he had never even wondered about before, but now everyone’s eyes were on you as most of the people around that fire knew of your entire love life “she does not need to answer if she doesn’t want to.” Quinn sent you a friendly smile, Luke nodded in agreement with this being something that he didn’t even know about. 

You let out a sigh of relief “yeah why don’t we move on?” There was a pleading sense in your voice that made everyone accept your request. 

Well almost everyone, as the night went on and people went home or to bed. You were left with Trevor, Jack and Luke “you want another beer?” Luke asked as he got up with his empty beer bottle “please.” You nodded, the older two boys giving the same response. 

This was the first opportunity that they got to truthfully ask the question that plagued their minds all night “so was it Jake?” Trevor blurted out as he turned his attention to you “what about the theatre kid before him?” Jack truthfully never liked that one, thankfully he only lasted one summer. 

You toyed with your bracelet “if I tell you do you promise to keep it to yourselves?” If it got out you knew half of the people there would never look at you the same. 

Hell you weren’t even sure if Trevor and Jack would see you the same way again “we will not tell a soul.” They both nodded at the same time, practically sat on the edges of their seats. 

You let out a sigh, rubbing your lips together “it was all of them.” Those words made them freeze “you faked it with every single guy you’ve been with?” Jack let out a shocked laugh when you nodded. 

Trevor felt confused “I didn’t realise you were with such shit guys.” Some of the guys had notable reputations too “it wasn’t their faults-” you tried to give them some grace within the situation. 

But Jack was having none of it “if you have to fake it then it is on him.” Of course that’s what he’d say, the man prided himself on how good he was in bed after all. You had been privy to hearing the mutters through the wall when you stayed over to see Luke. 

The Ducks player nodded in agreement “we won’t tell them if you think they were shit.” He added wanting so desperately to hear more of this “it’s me okay!” Your words suddenly made them both go quiet. 

Their eyes went wide “I can’t cum so when I have sex I have to fake it.” Your voice was quieter as you didn’t know where Luke was “and before you ask yes I know my body is clearly broken-” you were cut off by the sound of the sliding door opening from the house. 

Luke walked out with the four beers in his hands “what is broken?” The three of you looked like kids caught with your hands in the cookie jar in that very moment “oh just the door of my closet in the apartment.” You quickly recovered, it wasn’t a lie. In fact, it was actually something you needed to fix.

He stared at you for a moment before he nodded “wait until I visit and I can help you.” Luke offered making you nod “sounds like a plan.” You sent him a smile, ignoring the conversation that you had just had with the boys. 

It seemed that even if you were able to sleep soundly amongst all of Luke’s snoring, Jack and Trevor were plagued with thoughts. Neither one could fall asleep as they sat there thinking about what you had said. 

How was it that a girl like you could have a problem that seemed so unbreakable? 

“Just so we’re both on the same page, she clearly has a shit taste in guys right?” Trevor blurted out as he stared at the ceiling “I mean it has to be that right?” He added not even sure if Jack was listening. 

Jack let out a harsh sigh “but how is she going got accept that?” He rolled over knowing that he shared the same thoughts “well I mean there is one way we could do it.” Trevor trailed off figuring, that it was the should have been obvious. 

The Hughes boy let out a laugh “yeah like she’s ever gonna go for that.” He shook his head rolling over to look out the window as he tried to force himself to go to sleep.

A party echoed out in the yard, music blared through the speakers as you made your way upstairs “I’m telling you that she’s not going to go for it.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose as he chugged back the remainder of his beer “why not?” Trevor whined crossing his arms. 

He took in a large amount of air in when he sighed “it’s not like she exactly has any other better options than sticking to never coming.” Those words made you freeze in front of their door. Why were they talking about you, and what was their potential option to help you? 

Your cheeks grew warm when your mind began to travel “because you think little miss perfect is gonna fuck the two of us to prove that she just has a shit taste in boys?” Those words made you scoff, it was a response that was a little louder than you had hoped when the boys went quiet “shit.” Jack was quick to open the door. 

Both of them were visibly relieved to see it was just you “care to join us?” Jack smirked at the sight of the irritated expression on your face “I am not little Miss Perfect.” You announced sticking your finger in his face. 

It was the response he wanted, knowing you had taken the bait “so why don’t you give us a chance then?” Trevor spoke up from behind the younger boy who nodded in agreement. 

Your fists clenched into balls “over my dead body.” You were embarrassed as you stormed off in the direction of your room “on a scale of one to ten how badly do you think we fucked up?” Trevor asked hearing the door slam behind you. 

Jack sucked at his teeth “I would lean closer to ten.” He nodded thinking about what would happen if Luke were to find out about what was said. 

The night had grown dark as you tried to push the boys comments back to the bottom of your mind. It was something that so negatively failed, especially when you began to picture those two. 

You had ended up in the bathroom having a shower trying to calm yourself down at first “fuck!” You grumbled letting your fingers thrust into your cunt as the steam stuck to your skin. 

Your body had started to shrivel like a prune due to how long you had been in there. Your body was hot as the image of Jack and Trevor lingered on your mind, picturing how they’d kiss you and morph your body in the ways they wanted to use you. You weren’t an idiot, if they were talking about you then it was clearly a competition in their minds. 

The peaks of your nipples throbbed as this clearly wasn’t working. Defeat wasn’t something that you accept gracefully, and that’s why you muttered to yourself as you grabbed one of Luke���s shirts and threw it on. Bringing your panties up your legs as you sent Luke one last look, as if you were checking that he was indeed asleep. 

You had to try to be quiet as you knew that everyone else was in there room, and with the minimal amounts of chatter that came from Quinn’s room when he spoke to his girlfriend on the phone. It was the timezones that caused him to be awake, but you knew you couldn’t be certain about the other rooms “shit.” You grumbled landing at Trevor and Jacks door to see that there room was empty. Their beds were made with their sandals missing, which only meant that they were downstairs. 

It was a lightbulb moment as you practically raced down using the banister as support. Chatter could be heard from outside and that’s where they were “pass me the blunt.” Jack’s voice was soft, muffled by the glass. 

Your feet brought you up to the door as you sighed knowing that beyond this moment if you wanted to turn back, you wouldn’t be able to “do my eyes deceive me or is little Miss Perfect stood in front of me?” Trevor teased, using the nickname that Jack had as his eyes drank in the sight of you. 

Jack could sense you were nervous “why don’t you come take a hit?” He offered holding the blunt in your direction “don’t know how.” You shook your head, making him smirk. 

Of course, weed was something you hadn’t dabbled in, how were they not surprised “I’ll teach ya.” Jack patted his thigh as he spread his legs open for you to sit there. 

He held the joint between his ring and pointer fingers when you sat down “just suck the air in but don’t inhale it.” The middle Hughes boy knew that you weren’t exactly some chain smoker so he had to help you. 

You nodded as you followed his instructions when he brought the blunt to your lips. Both boys watched on when Jack let his hand travel up the inside of her thigh “there we go.” He cooed until you let out a cough. 

It made them softly laugh when you shook your head “never doing that again.” You announced assuming that it would have done something to calm the nerves that ran through your veins.

Jack brought the blunt to his lips “what brought you down here?” He asked looking at his watch, you were usually fast asleep “I couldn’t sleep.” You confessed wanting sigh when you felt the breeze brush past you. 

Trevor smiled at your words “anything particular that brought the late shower on?” It was clear that your hair was still wet as it drenched the back of the shirt that you made into a dress “do you think you guys can really fix me?” The words made the two boys freeze. 

It wasn’t something that they thought you would come around to “because if I have to spend another fucking unsatisfactory night with fingers between my thighs I’m going to shoot someone.” Jack let out a soft laugh hearing your confession. 

He smiled bringing his lips to your cheek to kiss “you gonna be a good girl for us?” He quizzed you, circling his thumb on the inside of your thigh “let us break you?” He added which made you whimper in response.

Trevor almost felt jealous at how far away he was from you “why don’t we move this inside?” His proposal made your head snap in his direction. You seemed to sense where the boy came from “c’mon pretty girl.” Jack patted your thigh signalling to you to get up. 

Jack had never been more grateful for the fact that he picked a room downstairs, which you at the moment seemed to so happily run into “c’mere.” Trevor shut the door behind him. 

He brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. A grin plastered on his face as your head tilted in his direction so that he could kiss you. There present taste of beer mixed with the weed on his tongue that he dragged over your lower lip. A moan escaped your lips as Jack placed his hands on your hips “didn’t forget about you too.” you confessed, turning your head so that you could kiss him too. 

It was rougher when Trevor turned his attention to your neck. His kisses were hungry as he sucked at the skin “n-no marks.” You gasped not wanting to worry about covering more than your bikinis already did. 

Jack finally took a step back as he looked at you “why don’t you show us how you normally try to get off?” Jack’s fingers danced over the hem of Luke’s shirt that hung over your knee. 

Trevor nodded in agreement “doll, it ain’t like we don’t see those pathetic bikinis you wear.” His words were sharp, making you listen as you took a step back, “like you want us to know what is under ‘em.” He added, allowing his eyes to burn your skin.

The boys watched in awe as your fingers gripped at the ends of the shirt, you took in a deep breath in like it was meant to give you some newfound confidence. The room grew warmed as you pulled the white t-shirt off of your body, letting it fall onto the floor when you now stood in just a white thong. They both stood in silence, causing you to bite at your lip with your confidence immediately wavering.

You were quick to reach down wanting to grab the shirt, assuming that the boys thought this was a mistake or that you weren’t as pretty as they thought you’d be “let us get a good look at ya.” Trevor’s hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from leaning over any further. 

 A whistle left his lips when you stood up straight “never thought these tits could ever have looked better than when they were in those bikinis.” His voice was a low growl, letting his fingers cup at your breasts before he gave them a squeeze. 

The feeling made a moan get caught in your throat “god imagine what she’s hiding under those panties?” Trevor turned to Jack, not letting his hands move from your boobs that his thumbs began to massage. 

Possibilities felt endless “you wanna let us see?” Jack asked making you nod. Trevor kissed at your neck whilst you locked your fingers into the sides of your panties. 

The fabric brushed against your skin when Trevor looked down to see your bare mound “don’t know how any of those boyfriends of yours used to let you leave them.” He sighed pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

Jack nodded in agreement “if we had a say you’d always be around ready for us.” Those words made you squirm and force your thighs together. 

Neither one of them were an idiot, easily sensing the effect they had on you “can you sit on the bed for me sweet girl?” Jack cooed tilting your jaw up to him so that he could kiss you. 

That kiss helped settle some of your nerves as you nodded. You sat on the edge of Jacks bed “higher.” Trevor motioned to you to move higher up the bed. 

You drove your hips up until you got sat in the middle of his bed “now why don’t you show us how you get off?” After all that was the entire reason that you were there so it made sense they watched you first.

When you lay down on the bed the boys looked at you like you were the sight for sore eyes “c’mon you can show us.” Trevor’s voice oozed this sense of cockiness as he motioned to you to start, brushing those waves of uncertainty aside.

Your heels pushed up to your ass as you spread your lefs open, seeing the boys stare back at you “need to make it wet.” You whimpered feeling Jack kneel into the bed. 

He took two of his fingers to spread your folds open, saliva pooled in his mouth before he let his spit fall onto your cunt. It ran down your clit making you squirm “that enough?” Jack asked standing back up straight as you nodded. 

You brought your fingers down your stomach and to your slit. The two fingers rubbed over your sensitive nub making the boy’s pants grow tight, your fingers travelled to your cunt as you let them thrust into the hole. The pace you used seemed to be a happy medium using Jack’s spit as some kind of lube that let your fingers create a squelching sound. 

Jack felt his throat grow tight “you think that you add another finger?” He could see how your eyes stuck on his now-formed boner “you want some encouragement?” The boy smirked when you nodded. 

Neither one hesitated to drop their pants as they pulled their cocks out of their boxers “can’t fit.” You shook your head watching as your mouth watered seeing them palm their members. 

Trevor sucked at his teeth “know you can do it.” He encouraged but still that didn’t seem to be enough. 

Your free hand went up to cup your boob, going tease your nipple that had been throbbing since it felt the cool air of Jack’s room “need help.” You pleaded, only ever having two fingers in your hole. Even the guys you dated seemed to stop at two, thinking that it was the perfect number. 

Jack took his precum over the head of his cock as he rubbed it down his length “why don’t you pick who.” If he had it his way he wouldn’t have even given Trevor a chance to get you first. 

When your eyes didn’t leave the Devils players it seemed your answer was written on the walls “no hard feels right?” He smirked tucking his cock back into boxers before he joined you on the bed. 

You sat up letting your back rest against his headboard “gonna relax f’me okay?” Jack asked watching you pull your own fingers from your cunt “okay.” You nodded letting your eyes shut when his thumb circled your clit. 

In the beginning he opted to start easy, with two fingers it was only slightly bigger than what you could fit in yourself “shit.” You whimpered letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 

His fingers grazed the spongey area of your cunt “uh huh baby want to hear you.” Jack kissed at your neck wanting to hear you scream “feels good.” You confessed making him nod. 

Jack pressed these opened-mouthed kisses on your jaw as he felt you clench around him “you see how hard you make him?” The Hughes boy turned his eyes to Trevor who palmed his cock at an even quicker pace “feel how hard you make me?” Jack brought your hand with his free one over his boxers. 

You took the time to feel his hard appendage and with that, Jack slid a third finger into your cunt “fuck!” Your toes curled at the new sensation. 

Jack lowered his head to your boob letting his lips wrap around your nipple “right there.” Your head rested against the cool wood behind you. 

His fingers felt every inch of you, the way your cunt clenched around his digits that attacked your needy hole “think you should get her clit Z.” Jack’s words made you whimper as you saw the boy’s swollen red tip look desperate for more of your attention “such a pretty girl ain’t she?” Trevor nodded, joining you on the other side of the bed. 

But he didn’t take the liberty of tucking himself away as he let his fingers tap on your lower lip “and a good listener too huh?” He teased watching your mouth suck at his fingers. 

He was forced to pull them out, not wanting to get too carried away “don’t stop.” There was a feeling you had never felt as Jack curled his fingers in this come hither motion. Trevor added to it letting his fingers drop down between Jacks hand and your clit. His calloused fingers were rough “fuck!” You called out watching Trevor drop his face to your chest. 

The boy clicked his tongue “look at this poor fucking tit all ignored.” He sighed not giving you a chance to respond as he too wrapped his lips around your other nipple. 

Looking down it was a sight of dreams as each boy sucked at your nipples, working in tandem on your clit and your cunt “I feel funny.” You confessed making them both look at each other.

It was encouragement for them to increase the pace of their fingers as Trevor rubbed your clit faster and Jack increased the pace of his thrusts “I think I’m gonna.” You trailed off with wide eyes as your body began to shake not sure if the pleasure was coming from your nipples, clit or cunt, or even a mixture of all three. 

Jack made a muffled grunt against your nipple that sent you over the edge, your face scrunched your face up letting your head jolt. Your cunt clenched around Jacks fingers as your body didn’t stop squirming. The boys didn’t stop there though as they brought you through your orgasm. 

The Hughes boy let his fingers begin to slow as your release didn’t seem to grow any sloppier around his digits “shit baby.” Jack let your nipple drop from his mouth with a pop. Your chest heaved as you nodded enough.” You whimpered feeling them retract their fingers away from you as Trevor finally let your other breast go. 

Trevor and Jack looked at the sight that you were in front of them “why don’t you taste yourself.” Jack offered his fingers bringing them into your mouth “so you can remember your first orgasm.” He added as Trevor had a devilish look in his eyes.

You went to turned your attention to the other boy whilst still sucking on Jacks fingers “I want a proper taste.” Trevor announced settling in between your legs. 

Your body was still sensitive and Jack was able to pick upon that “hey pretty girl.” His voice was soft, his fingers gripped at your jaw turning your head in his direction. 

His eyes caught yours “don’t worry about him right now?” Jack reassured you as Trevor kissed at your thigh “you want to still feel so good right?” Trevor asked wrapping his arm around your thigh when he blew against your cunt. 

The sensation made you squirm “please.” You nodded switching your gaze between both boys “a guy ever eaten this pretty cunt before?” Trevor ran his finger down your slit when he pressed a kiss against your other thigh. 

Jack focused his lips against the hollow of your collarbone “none.” But that wasn’t to say that you never wanted it, the guys you were with just wanted it to be you who went down on them “can’t believe you fucking thought you were the problem.” Jack clicked his tongue watching your eyes stick on Trevor. 

The boy mindlessly stared at your cunt, like he had never seen something so glorious “kiss?” You pleaded looking at Jack who couldn’t help but nod at you. 

His fingers gripped at your jaw as he started kissing you slowly at first. Trevor felt his cock throb watching the scene unfold in front of him. Jacks tongue ended up in your mouth and the Ducks player decided he couldn’t be the only one not having any fun. 

Trevor wrapped his other arm around your bare thigh, allowing your feet to settle on his shoulder blades “fucking hell.” His voice barely above a whisper before his head dropped against your cunt.

His mouth latched over your clit first making you moan into Jacks mouth “such a sweet cunt.” Trevor moaned sending shivers up your spine. The boy let his tongue travel to your weeping hole, his nose grazed your clit as he thrusted his tongue in against your walls. 

Your head fell back as Jack looked down “be a good girl and look at how good Z his making you feel.” He sucked at your earlobe making you whimper. 

Trevor’s eyes locked onto yours, his arms slightly loosened around your legs allowing you to drive your hips close to him “fuck z.” You moaned feeling Jack cup your tits once again “Jacky you’re missing out here.” Trevor confessed placing his thumb on your clit before he went back to fucking you with his tongue. 

Your eyes screwed shut as you felt Jack softly laugh against your skin “don’t have to worry because we’ve got plenty more in ya.” He looked at you through his devilishly long lashes “don’t we baby?” Jack asked as he sucked at your jaw. 

Silence swallowed you up when pleasure lulled in your ears. Trevor had been paying attention which made him scoff “he asked you a question doll.” The boy cupped his hand as he lay a smack against your cunt. 

The movement made you jolt when your eyes burst open “ahh,” you whimpered almost folding your body over “‘m sorry.” You apologised letting your lips form a pout. 

Trevor accepted the apology as he continued. He pressed a kiss against your clit “we just want you to be a good girl.” He sighed licking a stripe down your slit. 

Your thighs tensed around his head “because we don’t have to punish you then.” Your cunt clenched around his tongue as it lolled back into your hole “just wanna make you feel so good tonight.” Jack confessed going back to kissing your lips as you quickly became like a drug to him. 

There was the slightest scent of your perfume that was still on your skin that invaded his nostrils “please.” You nodded practically feeling like a brand new woman as the boys focused on you. 

Jack nodded running his fingers over your collarbone “c’mon sweet girl.” Jack cooed as you bit at your lip “you let this house hear you or else we’re gonna stop.” He warned squeezing your cheeks in his hand. 

Trevor pulled his tongue from your entrance before he let it lay flat running against your clit “seems like little miss perfect wants that.” Trevor taunted latching his lips around the sensitive nub. 

Jack gasped toying with your nipple between his fingers “you want Lukey to see what we are doing to his best friend?” The image made your voice quiver “h-he can’t.” You whimpered shaking your head. 

The boy between your thighs smirked “shame to keep this pretty pussy a secret.” Trevor sighed pressing a kiss against your clit “when she’s all soaked for us, it’s better to keep it our think no?” Jack asked pressing a wet kiss against your throat when you arched your back. 

The Ducks player let his tongue swirl around your sensitive nub, creating a healthy rhythm that caused your thighs to squeeze against his head “all for you.” You nodded with your voice turning breathy, almost angelic to the duo.

Those words went straight to the boys cocks that they were still so desperate to just let burst out, letting it soak your skin “can’t believe you tried to act like you were too good for us.” Jack pinched at your side making you jolt “I’m sorry.” You cried, your throat feeling raw as your heels pushed against Trevor’s shoulder blades. 

Jack smiled raking his fingers through your hair “‘s okay.” He mumbled pecking your lips “all that matters is that you’re here now.” Jack kissed you harder that time when your nails dug into his thigh. 

Trevor let his lips go from your clit as you whimpered not aware of how that hurt him more to stop than you could have known “please she’s been wanting to be a dumb little slut for us.” Trevor’s words were rough as he thrusted his fingers into your cunt. 

His were longer than Jacks but they weren’t as smooth either “please.” You begged clenching your walls around his digits “please what?” Trevor softly bit that the inside of your thigh. 

Your eyes almost rolled back into your head while Jack kissed at your shoulder “make me cum.” You whined wanting nothing more than to feel the high you felt earlier on “how can I say no to that.” Trevor clicked his tongue as he went back to sucking at your clit. 

His fingers did this scissoring motion stretching you out around him. The squelching noises echoed against the walls of the room, mixing with the sounds of your moans that slipped through Jacks kisses “such a spoilt girl ain’t ya.” Jack saw the sweat that formed on your stomach. 

You nodded whimpering against him “want you to cum really good for him okay?” Those words made your toes curl as the coil tightened in your stomach “can I?” You nodded not knowing it was possible for you to do it again. 

Trevor nodded refusing to slow down his thrusts as he grinded his hips into the bed beneath him. Words left your lips in a shaky chant “please fuck please.” You begged squirming as he didn’t relent running his tongue over your clit. 

You huffed shaking your head “c’mon sweet girl you can let go.” Jack egged you on kissing your lips, swallowing the moans from your mouth. 

Your legs shook when Trevor fingered you through your high, your release coating his fingers when the coil snapped in your stomach “shit, holy shit.” Your chest heaved letting your fingers tug at Trevor’s hair to pull him off of you. 

His fingers dropped from your cunt went you kissed him. Your release shone on his chin “fuck.” Trevor moaned feeling your tongue brush against his, your walls clenched around nothing as you knew it was the taste of your pussy on his tongue. 

Jack grunted from beside you as you turned back to look at him. There was a smile on your lips “you ready for one more?” He asked pushing your hair out of your face when you nodded. 

It made Trevor laugh “of course she is.” He mumbled tugging at the hair on the nape of your neck so that he could kiss you again. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you with the amount of passion in it. 

A moan escaped from your lips “wanna taste you.” Your confession made his cock throb “how can I say no when a little slut asks me so nicely?” He nodded cupping your jaw as he smiled. 

Jack gripped at your sides “gonna let me fuck you while he does that?” Those words made you nod. 

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened but before you knew it Jack was on the end of the bed with his legs hanging over. You were hovering over his hips and of course Trevor stood over you, taking in the sight that you were through your thick eyelashes “remember when you thought you were too good to entertain us?” Trevor taunted you like those words hadn’t been spoken mere hours ago. 

You nodded feeling Jack kiss your shoulder blade “well I think it’s time you give us an apology for being such a fucking brat.” His words were harsh as Jack dragged the head of his cock against your clit “I’m sorry Trevor.” Jacks hand held your hip stopping you from sinking into his cock. 

Trevor laughed shaking his head “you gotta do a whole lot better than that.” His fingers brushed through your hair “and that’s gonna start with you getting on his dick okay?” You were eager to please them both. 

Jack let out a grunt “condom?” He asked when your head leaned against his shoulder “on the pill.” Your words made him gasp finally letting your cunt sink down on his cock. 

The ducks player smirked watching how your jaw went slack “shit this cunt is-wow.” Jack let his teeth gnaw at your shoulder blade. 

Neither one of you moved, taking the chance let your walls stretch around his cock. Trevor palmed himself watching how your eyes screwed shut enjoying how the boy felt inside of you “gonna have to try it one day too.” He nodded as you finally started lifting yourself up against Jack “you ready f’me to fuck you huh?” Jack asked, your head bobbed with your one hand resting on his thigh your nails digging into his skin. 

Jacks blue orbs burnt into the back of your head “this cunt is so perfect god.” He barked wrapping his one arm around your waist to keep your back flush against his chest “don’t stop.” The Devils player drunk in your whimpers while you squirmed. 

He adjusted his legs so that you had spread yours around his. Letting the feelings of pleasure soak over you, not sure how much more of him you could actually take. A grunt came from in front of you, reminding you that it wasn’t just you and Jack in that room.

Trevor’s precum oozed out of his cock and you swore you could see a smirk on his face when your mouth watered “you wanna suck my cock?” He asked watching you nodded. 

His breath grew short when you used your tongue to spread his liquid around his length “shit this mouth is-” Trevor cut himself off as you took more of his cock in your mouth. 

His fingers messily tugged at your hair forming a loose pony at the back of your head, encouraging you to work his cock between your lips “you want more?” He asked seeing how you looked up at him through your eyelashes. 

Jack had settled into a rhythm he liked unintentionally knocking your hand off of him. This cause you to reach out at Trevor’s thighs “fuck.” Both boys spoke through gritted teeth as Trevor’s cock hit your throat causing tears to spill from your eyes when you clenched around Jacks cock. 

The ducks player watched how you worked your tongue on the underside of his length “don’t stop pretty girl.” He nodded hearing the squelching of your cunt as Jack fucked you “yeah sweets we wanna use you proper.” Jack cooed gripping at your hip, pinching at the skin. 

You moaned around Trevor almost toppling him over “think you like the idea of us using you.” His words were full of desire, fantasies forming in his mind wanting to go through with them in that moment. 

Sweat stuck to your skin, turning you into a whimper mess “god you’re such a cock hungry slut.” Trevor muttered tugging at your hair eliciting another moan from your lips

The sensation made his eyes screw shut “fuck I’m gonna cum.” Trevor response was mangled, Jack started chasing his own high that was quickly approaching when he heard that message “you gonna let me make a mess in this pretty little mouth of yours?” He brought his one hand forward from your hair. 

His thumb brushed against your cheek “mhm.” Tears streamed down your cheeks while your eyes darted up to his. 

Trevor’s movements increased fucking your face as if you were his own hand. He took that moment before he became undone. His hand held you in place so his release hit the back of your throat all at once. 

Your throat gagged at the new sensation causing his cock to twitch before he went lax letting go of your hair. You hollowed out your cheeks as you let your lips swallow every last drop of what had been on his skin cleaning him up in the process. 

Gasps escaped from your lips causing droplets of his release to drip out of the side of your mouth “don’t go making a mess now.” Trevor clicked his tongue catching it with his thumb before he brought it into your mouth. 

Your lips wrapped around his digit swirling your tongue around it like it was his cock all over again “fuck I’m gonna make a mess in this pussy.” Jack announced feeling that he was close. 

His pace turned animalistic and if Trevor wasn’t in front of you, you swore you would have fallen over “such a tight cunt.” The boy moaned with his eyes glued to the way your folds swallowed his cock. 

Trevor felt himself grow hard again “such a pretty little cock drunk slut ain’t ya?” He asked watching your eyes grow glassy “yeah.” You cried hearing how your thighs slapped against Jack with every thrust of his cock. 

He almost felt as if he could feel your guts he was so deep, touch places you didn’t even know were in you “needed you both so bad.” You were surprised you were able to form a coherent sentence “knew you were always gonna be so desperate for us.” Trevor almost laughed watching your head bob as you nodded along. 

Your mouth watered seeing how his cock still oozed while his hand ran along the underside of it “you wanna feel this too pretty girl?” It was almost the sweetest thing he had said that night. 

It seemed to throw you off as you chewed at your lip sensing you were close “or maybe we should stop until this little slut remembers how to talk.” The threat held no weight as Jack was far too close with your walls squeezing his cock to let you off of him, but that wasn’t something that you considered “please Z.” Your moan sounded like you were a pornstar letting the whimpers of desperation escape from your throat. 

Trevor crouched down pumping his cock once more before he let the head sit in your clit “shit doll you like that?” Jack asked feeling you clench around him “so good.” You nodded letting your head fall against his shoulder. 

The sight was something Trevor swore should have been in the Louvre. His cock dragged over your clit matching the pace of Jacks thrusts. The Hughes boy was desperate to get you to cum first because he knew that the moment he finish he was a goner. 

Trevor begun to kiss at your throat which he now had the perfect spot to do as such “go on.” Trevor mumbled sucking at your sweet skin “make a mess on Jacky boys cock.” Your breathy gasps filled the room as your eyes screwed shut. 

Jack grunted from behind you “yeah baby make a mess for me.” Between Jacks cock fucking you senseless, Trevor’s cock against your clit and now both boys marking up your throat you were done. 

You shuttered out a cry while your face contorted letting tears fall from your shut eyes as your orgasm ripped through you. Neither boy stopped what they were doing, wanting to guide you through your orgasm “shit shit so good!” Jack sputtered out feeling your cunt clench around him. 

His eyes practically rolled back into his head as his cock shot warm sticky ropes of release into your cunt “fucking hell.” Trevor softly laughed against your throat when the younger boy lulled his thrusts before he kissed your shoulder. 

Your chest heaved trying to catch your breath you lay against Jack slowly coming back to, before you softly clenched around him remembering that he was still there “you with us baby?” Jack asked brushing your hair out of your face. 

You nodded gripping onto Trevor’s arm to help yourself up “damn.” Jack mumbled looking down at where you had been sat. A mix of your release and Jacks oozed out of your cunt and down the inside of your thigh as you used Trevor to support you. 

Trevor’s eyes followed Jacks before he let out a soft gasp “you know you could do that?” His hand squeezed at your hip before he set you on the bed next to the devils player. 

You shook your head “do what?” You asked growing confused “this broken girl just squirted.” Trevor scooped the release that had fallen before he thrusted his fingers into your cunt once more “we can’t have you forgetting about this now can we?” He asked watching your hand try to wrap around his wrist to stop him. 

Jack smirked seeing how you dropped back onto the bed, allowing your face to contort as you felt with a mix of pleasure and overstimulation “silly girl this summer is only just getting started.” The devils player nipped at your ear knowing that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Because here is to the summer you’ll never forget.