#Had started this on impulse and now so addicted to it.

[yohangaontdj]

The Devil Judge Rewatch Ep 8 (Part 1)

We're halfway through the drama and this time, I just have to start from the end cause how can we ever forget this - the highlight of this episode.

The two of them on the bridge, looking in the same direction and finally standing side by side.

Look at Yohan, how immensely satisfied he was like he had gotten what he wanted.

And to me, the next bit that Yohan says, I swear it is his wedding vow.

Instead of the usual - in sickness and in health, in blah blah blah till death do us part. Yohan had instead promised revenge for Gaon's sake. And maybe you might think I'm twisted, but its just so much more better than the usual vow. Cause what better way to show your love than to swear that u will kill and destroy anyone who dare to make your spouse cry (and Gaon did cry a lot in this episode).

Reminds me so much of John Wick which is another series of movies I'm so in love with.

And now, we have Gaon's response that is like what a pair of lovers would say. How it's like the two of them together against the entire world.

Okay the photo above is doctored by me. It didn't happen in the drama and Gaon never said that two words - with you.

But I can't help creating a fake one cause it fits so well with what Gaon had said earlier. And sorry! For misleading you like this and to TVN as well.

And we have Yohan and Gaon staring at each other with so much emotions on their faces.

They must MUST have kissed after this. It will be a sin if they hadn't. Not with the amount of tension between them.

The next bit, let's go back in time to another favourite scene of mine. Gaon walking out on Professor Min and choosing Yohan instead.

And how in the world did Yohan do it? Arriving perfectly on time to pick up Gaon.

Did he make K watch and report to him from somewhere nearby. Or did he get Elijah to hack into every available CCTV in the area?

Even Professor Min hadn't got the time to stand up yet.

And this, nothing more need to be said, except to feast our eyes on it.

And going further back in time, we have a furious Gaon.

Doing this in Yohan's office.

It's just so sensual. The way he took Yohan's chair. Sitting there like he didn't give a damn that this is Yohan's seat of power - his throne in a way. And in the past, if Gaon were to do exactly that, he will have been beheaded for the affront he had caused.

And I love TDJ for the details they had put in. Just one little act - Gaon taking Yohan's chair and we know, he's about to go on an all-out confrontation with Yohan.

And it's just so hot and sexy having Gaon sitting in Yohan's chair. Taking over Yohan's personal space like he had the right to own it. And I like to imagine Yohan and Gaon, doing something more in that seat that is now shared equally between the two of them.

Have reached my photo limit again and see u in Ep 8, Part 2.

[songmingisthighs]

[12.44] nerd!seonghwa × popular!reader (m)

⇀ you just can't help but help the inexperienced nerd explore himself

⇁ i'm just indulging my impulses at this point

genre : smut

warning : mdni explicit smut, dirty talk, (y/n) being condescending, unprotected sex (no latex no go), semi-public sex ?? (kinda dry humping and handjob in the hallway), kinda subbish seonghwa?, inexperienced!seonghwa (not a virgin), implication of cumming inside (mentioned)

wc : 0.8 k (on the dot !!)

buy me coffee ?

It was absolutely adorable how Seonghwa was moaning like a needy little bitch into your mouth, absolutely devouring the fact that the hot, popular girl was giving him all the attention while the jocks stood by the corner, glaring at him with jealousy when you pulled him into a less crowded hallway on the second floor.

His moan got louder when you pulled his hair, effectively detaching his delectable lips off of you, making you regret it slightly because you began to miss its pillowy softness. "Mm, do you like that, big boy? Do you like your hair being pulled by me?" you purred cockily, feeling your pussy clench at the sight of his eyes rolling to the back while his cock was pressed directly into your core, pressing, prodding, as if begging for permission to enter you. As if you won't give it to him in the first place.

"Yes, yes, oh fuck, yes," Seonghwa whimpered. The raspiness of his voice paired with the flush of his skin and the position you two were in was enough to get you all riled up. Needy inexperienced nerds were always your favourite but Park Seonghwa was different. You might be addicted to him.

Slipping your hand into his pants and past his underwear, you could feel his slick erection, twitching in your hand. You couldn't help the smirk that grew on your face, amused. As you started stroking him, Seonghwa's neck went slack and his face dropped to your shoulder, his hips rolled against your hand as if trying to get more from you desperately. "Aww, poor baby. So desperate, so pliant," you mockingly taunted, "I'm gonna fucking wreck you tonight."

Almost immediately, Seonghwa felt his cock get harder and he whimpered out a needy moan, "Yes, yes, yes, please." "Do you want me to show you things your virgin cock was created for?" Seonghwa's breath hitched when you swiped your thumb on his tip, "I-I- I'm n-not a virgin," he swallowed. Though it was embarrassing for Seonghwa to have to clarify himself like that, for some reason Seonghwa was more... entranced by you for putting him in such a position, he wanted more and not just to prove himself to you, but also to please you. You clicked your tongue at him, wordlessly dismissing his statement, "Trust me, baby boy, your past experience was nothing. You were and always have been a virgin until I fuck you," quickly, you slipped your hand out of his pants to cup his face, bringing him so close that your lips were practically touching, "You're mine from now on."

Seonghwa's body tensed and thought you were no longer stimulating him, Seonghwa found himself cumming in his pants. Thanks to your bodies being pressed up together, you could feel the warmth of his cum spreading on his crotch.

While Seonghwa's eyes immediately drop due to embarrassment, yours lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh sweetie, did your virgin cock give out on you?" you taunted. This time, Seonghwa was damn near crying from holding himself back. The image you have been drawing for him was almost too much and he had a feeling that the reality of your skill would send him to an early grave.

With slightly trembling hands, Seonghwa reached his hands out to your chest and groped your tits, almost clumsily, "I told you I'm not a virgin," he huffed, trying to look angry but you know he's anything but. "Mhm, doesn't matter anyways because now I'm going to fuck you," you smirked.

Excitedly, Seonghwa nodded, "Yes, please, let's get out of here," he whimpered. You raised an eyebrow at him, "Get out? Honey, there are empty bedrooms here," smirking, you began pulling him into one, "Don't tell me you're embarrassed to be seen with me?" you pouted, detaching yourself once you got inside the room.

Almost frantically, Seonghwa rushed forward and crashed both of your bodies onto the bed, completely forgetting about the door. "No, no, no, of course not! I- I just..." he looked away bashfully, "I just don't want to make a mess in someone else's bed." You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent a squeal from coming out because you just couldn't stand how adorable he was. "Well, we'd just have to be considerate and not make a mess now, won't we?" You suggested as your hands slowly worked to get Seonghwa out of his clothing; from his star wars hoodie to his undershirt, then down to his sweatpants, freeing his cock for you to ogle at. "H-how are we going to do that?" Seonghwa asked with his voice almost cracking due to the effect of your touches.

In one swift move, you flipped him over and smirked, "You're just gonna have to cum inside me."

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[fawnpires]

thinking about himbo!simon and his bimbo girlfriend being so disgustingly in love with each other.

you two were the definition of a match made in heaven— a sweet girl, pouty glossed lips and this constant urge to be spoiled with her huge mass of a counterpart. sure, simon’s had his fair share of occasional motel hook-ups and such, but you were just… something so different to him. said hook-up turned into the love of his life. and it makes sense, for sure.

not only were you two the most air-headed couple out there, but also the downright nastiest. he just could not resist your tempting fashion taste, everything ever-so-neatly pink and cropped. cropped tracksuits, pink little thongs, mini-skirts that were just too short for your own good... it’s years worth of perfect jack-off material. i mean... he's ultimately stupid, of course, but is probably the perviest guy you've ever been with.

your reactions to his teasing touches were an addiction to him. made you all the more sensitive and pliable, gives into that already-huge ego he had. near bursting when you fed into it. those whiny mewls and the way you ended up with a messy cunt and ruined panties at the end of the day were just to die for. starts to find himself more hooked onto that now you've succumbed to him and his way of things. the guy's seeping into your brain, influencing you, shaping you into being as equally worse as he was. what an asshole.

at first, it was tame— nothing out of the ordinary, a normal, healthy relationship. causal sex and daily worship to keep each other on a holy level of thought. of course, there was the occasional suggestive touch in public, getting overly touchy to each other some extent, albeit more outgoing within the privacy of your shared apartment. you would never act on any type of hungering impulse he brought out on you, because you were a shy girl all in the start. affectionate as a lost puppy up against him, as pretty and ditzy in-appearance. some spoiled princess who’s had her mind all switched up.

but relationships change, people change, and simon’s just about change you these past few months.

the belief never really crossed your mind… until you’re obliviously playing into the part, falling for his perverse tactics. there’s no shame when you’re on your tip-toes, arms in a lock around his neck, leaned up to sloppily make out with him, spit and all, outside of the gym after he’s spend a majority of his day there— sweat adorning his biceps, a tight-fitting cropped compression that showed off all his well-worked progress. how could you not give in? then you’d pull away, giggling in a lovesick trance while he’s running his hands up from the curve of your ass under that skimpy skirt to the mid-point of your back.

and it doesn’t stop there— especially when you’re out together, or with friends. there’s always a moment to surrender; shamelessly clashing lips, bending and pounding you over the sink in some club’s restroom, having his hand shoved down your panties like it was natural instinct. safe to say you’ve disturbed a good portion of the general public and your friend group, but it was way beyond you and simon’s combined brain capacity to really process that.

“you’re a little stupid, si,” you mused aloud one day, back arched against him while his meaty bicep held you in a gentle headlock and his hips slowly moving against yours, “not stupid… but like, hm, slow. y’know what i’m trying to say?”

simon temporarily pauses in his thrusts, blinking down at you silently before continuing. you tilt your head to the side in wonder and take a breath before sighing from the simulation— there was time and place for musing and sex. nobody said the two couldn’t coexist.

“never really thought ‘bout that,” he manages to respond through some low grunts, looking at you so intensely like he couldn’t quite get his head correct right now, primal state of mind, “can’t really think right now when—“

a soft groan subconsciously pulls from his lips, hips driving into your puffy cunt more firmly, leaving an imprint of you into the mattress, and your legs shake in position. now you can barely even think about the question, all you know it felt fucking good. your makeup’s dripping and fusing with sweat, eyes decorated in a sickeningly, somehow swanky, mix of glitter and mascara.

“i’ve got my dick up this pretty pussy. princess, is that what you’re really concerned about right now?” simon finishes, the hand to his headlock arm holding a tender grip on your face.

you admired his ability to even put words together right now, especially when he’s got his cock so deeply perched in your pretty pussy that’s gripping on him like a damn suction. feels like he’s on a whole other planet, and you’re over here in a little wasteland of drifting thoughts cooped up at the back of your brain.

(there’s no way he is that good at fucking you to the point where he’s got you pondering dumb shit out loud.)

“it’s an honest observation,” you giggle, chewing on the plump bottom of your lip. his thrusts are really starting to set in now, making your lower tummy feel all fuzzy, reveling in an achy warmth. makes your cunt all the more soaked, resulting in his abdomen saturated with transparent slick. you’re convinced your insides are shaped have been like him at this point.

“well, if we’re making honest observations,” he strokes his thumb over your lower lip, leaning down your curved posture and pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth, “you’re a natural, baby. my girl’s got the prettiest tits, prettiest face… and the cutest damn pussy i’ve ever had the luck of having a chance at.”

heat blooms across your face, visualized over wet cheeks and suddenly your whole body’s burning from the inside out, breaths caught at the back of your throat when you stare back at him and whine out pitifully, “you’re such a filthy perv, simon.”

“ain’t that right,” he tilts his head backwards with closed eyes, lips formed in a lewd, sharp grin. his words sound like a mock reassurance, and untangles his arm from your neck to shift positions— back against the headboard, propping you up to sit on his abdomen, pussy so drenched in your slick and his own that it paints his taut abdomen with it. “now c’mon, on top, angel, know you can do it.”

simon holds the base of his cock with one hand, the other rubbing molded circles into the flesh of your doughy thighs. he’s helpful, thank god, and does the most by slapping the length of himself against your sticky folds. abrupt, messy, but sends an intoxicating shock right up your spine, causing your back to arch like a cat and dig your acrylics into the hardened skin of his pecs. your form was beautiful in perspective, as always.

you finish off what he’s started by raising your hips, sinking down onto his fat cock and stretching around him impossibly to accommodate his entire length, gaining back that sensation of being so full, so feverish because of what he does to you. using your cunt as his own personal stress reliever.

“oh, that’s real good,” he lets out a particularly heavy breath, sucks in the air through clenched teeth and tenses his muscles, the head of his cock already managing to kiss at your cervix. he’s so big and it wasn’t even an exaggeration. not at all. has you feeling this euphoric high of pleasure-pain. “c’mon, baby, put in that good work. i’ll even help ya.”

he keeps his word and grabs either sides of your hips, assisting you as he bounces you efficiently on his cock like a doll, jabbing the tip repeatedly at your cervix. paled eyes, ones that have that deer in the headlights sort of look, fixate their gaze on you— admiring you as if you were beauty reincarnate itself, or better yet, a pornstar. the prettiest pornstar he’s ever laid eyes on, at least.

“see? there we go, baby, a real natural at this,” he praises and your eyes roll so far you think that they would get stuck at the back of your head. you’re fucking yourself onto him like your life depends on it— and it probably does, having this feeling that you’re going to die without him and that stupidly fat cock of his rawing your pussy. it’s almost comical.

the sounds pulled from your throat are pitchy, soft and infused with unadulterated arousal. there’s nothing else to think about right now, not when simon’s all up in your guts and all that you can really do is moan out for him, breathe out his name like a prayer from your tongue. brain’s gone to mush and you can only yearn for him, having this need for him to kiss and embrace you whole so he does that, arms caged around your torso wholly and his lips clashed with yours in a kiss like he’s devouring you whole.

you’re so braindead that you don’t even notice he’s doubled on the stimulation— hitting that spot deep inside of you along with his fingers rubbing at your clit. it’s not long before it begins settling in, and that’s when you’re beyond save.

from there, you start to give out, revolving your hips in an intricate fashion, fucking yourself down onto him lazily, laying on the large expanse of his chest and nosing against his jawline gently. he doesn’t seem to mind this and even accommodates in the long run, cupping the back of your head and littering your face with messy smooches— contrasted to the fervent manner he works on your clit.

and you know you’re not a touch-starved girl, ‘cause you’ve been constantly pampered by him from day one! god, he’s given you so much that it really does make you feel like you’re genuinely deprived of it. ruined you for every other man.

“you’re too good to me, sweetheart.” simon coos, and for some ultimate reason, that just does it for you.

by the end, it’s nothing but an mind-numbing, scalding finish— the brand of skin-on-skin, and that knot in your lower stomach spreading into a warmth throughout your limbs, leaving an aftermath of tingles beneath your skin and a dripping, thick load painting your inner thighs the prettiest shade of white.

it takes a minute, but you watch through a post-orgasm fog when he lifts his head, peering down at you through half-lids. he was so… rugged, stubble growing in the right places, short, scruffy strands of dirtied blonde sticking to his forehead with sweat. one of the more major things that had deep-rooted your love for him. most things about him screamed masculinity, it’s written all over his face, his form. quite palpable, you think.

he grins slightly, boyish and on a high, and holds you against his chest, fingers brushing the disheveled hair that fell in front of your face. thinks you’re peak beautiful like this— messily beautiful with your makeup-smeared cheeks, hint of a dopey smile at your lips to match his.

“baby, you’ve got that look in your eye again,” simon comments, and you finally find the strength to sit up next to him.

you blink at him stupidly, that underlying sensation of quivering fresh at your skin, brain foggy, dumbified to great lengths. eyes widened and lips in a full pout because you haven’t got a clue what that means, so you just opt to take it as a tease.

“you’re sayin’ i look dumb?” that must’ve been it, of course there other possibilities, but you couldn’t quite come to that conclusion.

“what? baby, no,” he has this equally as stupid look on his face, scratching the side of his face with a grunt, “i meant… you look pretty. real pretty. got that after sex glow to you.”

“oh.” now you just feel ten times stupider, flashing him an awkward expression that’s something along the lines of a smile and a pout. you were just a dumb, sweet thing. that’s all. head dipped into somewhere else ninety-nine percent of the time. “whatever— you’re just butterin’ me up.”

“awe, now, don’t be like that,” he scoots closer to you, the fragrance of his natural, masculine musk and his pungent spiced cologne strong against your nose. fondles your bare tits lovingly, pawing at them like a helpless mutt. the sight makes you want to roll your eyes and whine, but you just can’t bring yourself to. he’s acting sweet and doting, nothing to complain about there. “we both know you can’t go a damn day without me all over you.”

a modest hmph came from behind puffed cheeks and ample pout because you knew he was right. in the end, simon always knew how to get you worked up— make your thighs press together, have your body burn up inside. the only one who knew how to get you that vulnerable.

“you’re so dirty.” of course he was, there’s no doubting that, but he’s undeniably smooth with it. goddamn practitioner in this line of skill. “hun, it’s like all you’ve got up there is just… fucking. thinking with your dick.”

he furrows his brows at that. “hey, now you know that ain’t true,” simon presses scattered kisses along your hairline. “partially is, but besides the point, actually two things— sex… and this sweet princess i’ve got right here. it’s all a man like me could ever think of.”

[amiaenn]

Habits

Harumasa × reader

Note:I was so deeply imbued with this character that I was inspired to pour out my thoughts here a little bit. (+I myself have problems with my lungs and heart, so I understand this bro as much as possible).I apologize in advance for my mistakes, this is my first experience in writing (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

genre/warnings: nope.It's just fluff, don't worry.

wc: ~800 words

Ever since you started dating Harumasa, it has seemed to you that your apartment is slowly turning into a medical office and new habits have appeared in your life. An abundance of various pills, ointments, saline solutions and many other things, the names of which you have not even heard of until recently, filled your shelves. Any pharmacy would envy such supplies of medicines.

And of course, your everyday life has changed too. No, of course you understood that it would change with the appearance of another person in your apartment, but you could not have imagined that Harumasa would bring new activities into your routine that you could not even think about until now.

First, maintaining order in the house. It cannot be said that you were completely dirty in this regard before, but sometimes you can put off sorting out some dusty shelf for later, right? Now forget about it. Asaba is the kind of person who starts a coughing fit from a single speck of dust, and you were sincerely sorry to see and hear him cough, and knowing about his lung problems, you immediately thought that now wet cleaning will be daily, no matter what it costs you, even despite Harumasa's eternal words that he is not a weak guy who can get sick from such household trifles (although his body's reaction says otherwise).

Secondly, now you have increased knowledge about various diseases (especially those related to the heart and lungs). How and what affects this, what is a state of remission and how to maintain it. Well, of course, in connection with this, you began to go with Harumasa to pharmacies to buy the necessary medications. And going out on such shopping, you remembered more and more the names of these pills. You can even confidently say that you remembered this entire list as long as the Great Wall of China.

Third, this is cooking. Yeah, for people who get sick easily, a special diet is needed. A balance of proteins, fats and carbohydrates. It is unlikely that a weak body will tolerate an abundance of chemicals in food, so you need to be more careful with this issue of cooking and selecting ingredients, so you will have to exclude all this harmful food, or at least limit its consumption to a minimum. To support Harumasa in this difficult matter, you decided to give up all the harmful food that you had previously consumed and switch to a healthy diet. One day, you impulsively got rid of all the snacks and bought vegetables and fruits, creating real chaos in the kitchen. Soup is boiling in one corner, vegetables are baking in another, while fruits are being cut on the table and, seeing this picture, Asaba only chuckled and said "Need help?" To which you nodded aggressively, and the guy already went to put on his apron.

Well, and the most interesting thing. A bitter taste began to be felt on your lips more often. You couldn't say that you were a doomed lover of bitter, on the contrary, you tried to avoid bitterness. Once you tried espresso and the fact that it was not a very pleasant experience is to say nothing. But with the appearance of Harumasa, you began to feel the taste of bitterness on your lips. And, you guessed it, all because of his kisses. It's no secret that Harumasa takes pills more often than food and this leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. But he stopped noticing it a long time ago, because years of taking medications give an addiction to this taste and it becomes unnoticeable. But you feel it fully, but to your surprise it felt.. nice? Yes, that's right. Strangely nice, for a lover of sweets like you. When you felt this taste for the first time, your eyes widened and the question "How can he calmly consume such bitter medications?" was spinning in your head. He noticed your surprise and involuntarily wondered what he did that caused such a reaction. Harumasa decided not to hesitate with the question and casually asked, "Something wrong, baby?"

You just awkwardly shrug your shoulders at this question, as if you don't understand what he's talking about, "No...no, everything's fine, don't get hung up on it."

After this incident, you began to get used to it, and after some time, the taste of bitterness began to be associated with something good and familiar. Something that brings a smile. Even more, now you wanted to feel it more often and you began to kiss Asaba at every opportunity that was given to you. He came from a successfully completed mission? What a good boy, he deserved a kiss. Are you making breakfast together? How cute, you can kiss him. Is he just relaxing? A great reason for a kiss! To be honest, it bordered on addiction, but for now it was on a fine line, because you skillfully control yourself and if you are told to tone down your ardor, you will do it without question.

And yes, why did you start liking espresso? It's strange...

[revelboo]

I have been loving all your writing, binging every night I ain't got work. Still enjoying the chapters of TFA Op, such a lad. Love the blog so much I gotta come out of my hiding to yell about how much joy this blog brings, hell even sometimes sneak in a read AT work I just can't wait. Also had to yell cause I got a new addiction cause of you, look at this LMAO Now Blue has a special spot in my heart by Scorponok

Ignore the quality my phone is a nice potato and I live in the dark. TIME TO GET 2 MORE :D 21 bucks ain't bad

Bluestreak! The little guys are addictive and I’m glad you enjoy my nonsense!

Ah… the doom music kicked in as soon as I tried to swap out one of Meg’s hands… I absolutely remember why the only RED figure I had was G1 Soundwave now..

Alcohol Eyes Pt 9

Rumble x Reader, Frenzy x Reader

• Hearing a drawer rattle behind you as Frenzy grumbles in his own language, you drink your coffee. Even not understanding his language, you’re almost positive he’s still complaining about the tiny sip of your coffee he’d tried. And immediately spit back out, carrying on like you’d poisoned him until Rumble had punched him in the arm. They’re too cute and all yours. After the shower, you’d put on a warm silk robe in the hopes of getting them to behave long enough to let you eat some breakfast. “So are you guys space invaders or do you come in peace?”

• “Depends,” Frenzy mutters, smiling wickedly when you look his way over the top of your cup of nasty, dirt water. “Your name Peace?” Pleased when you snort and start coughing and laughing, waving a little hand. Can’t really believe they’re doing this. Taking you home with them. You’re placing your trust in them and that’s sobering, because he’s never actually been responsible for anyone else. Or at all. Choosing impulse, mischief, and fun every time. He’s not even sure he can take care of someone else. But Rumble, he’s the responsible one. Well, slightly more responsible anyway.

• Watching you hide a smile behind your cup, there’s a whisper of concern twisting through the warmth inside Rumble. Because he’s not sure how Soundwave is going to react to this. The boss is always fussing over Starscream’s little human and all of the other cassettes are almost positive Soundwave’s a bit too attached. But his cassettes taking a human for a mate? Asking the boss to come fetch the three of them so they can get your stuff to the Nemesis? That’s going to be awkward, isn’t it. “Maybe we should ask Thundercracker for a lift home?” He asks Frenzy, smiling thinly at you when you glance at him. That Seeker isn’t as big a jerk as the others. And they haven’t pissed him off recently.

• What’s that look? Glancing between the brothers as they share a look and Frenzy slowly nods. “No one has a clue where you are or what you’ve been doing, huh?” And when they both frown, you know you’re right. “Your alien boss going to be okay with me, babe?” Because they both look very uncomfortable. “Cause I’m not into the scalpels and needles kind of experimentation.” Want that very clear, because you enjoy this between you three, but know absolutely nothing about them really.

• “No one’s touching you but us,” Frenzy growls, tensing at your words. But, as small as you are, they’re not a lot bigger. Much smaller than the rest of the Decepticons. They’ve just always had Soundwave to back them up if they got into too much trouble, but can they depend on him to protect you, too? Looking over at Rumble, he watches his brother’s jaw clench. Seeing his own determination in Rumble’s expression. You’re theirs. And Primus help anyone that messes with you. Hooking his arm around you, he tucks you against his side and rests his head on top of yours when you lean into him.

Previous

[evansbby]

another sugar daddy Ari 🫣🥵✨✨

18+ minors dni, daddy kink, age gap, smut

Ari wasn’t a conventional sugar daddy by any means. Well, what was a conventional sugar daddy, anyways? You wouldn’t know, because this was the first time you’d ever been in an arrangement like this. You didn’t know what you expected when you signed the contract. But it’s not like you were complaining…

You weren’t complaining when he made you sit on his lap while he kissed you everywhere. Slowly, sensually, petting you like you were his little toy, while he asked you questions about your life.

“Are you enjoying college?” While he sucked on your neck.

“Tell me about your parents, how are they doing?” While he peppered kisses along your jaw.

“What extra-curriculars are you taking this semester?” As he kissed your cheek and cooed at you.

You’d tell him, being as animated as possible because he seemed to like how chatty you were. And he’d play with your hair and caress you everywhere and put his hands up your skirt or play with your bra strap. It was like you were a delectable meal that he was playing with, and he enjoyed teasing himself almost as much as he enjoyed teasing you.

“Baby, you didn’t spend any of your allowance this week.” Ari inquires one day, frowning as he enters your apartment. Well, the luxury penthouse apartment he was paying for, but he liked to call it yours and you liked having a place of your own so you never corrected him. Not that he’d appreciate you correcting him on anything anyways. Men and their egos…

You shrug, sitting up on the couch where you’d been waiting for him. He’d texted you earlier informing you that he’d cleared his schedule to meet you for lunch. And of course, you assumed lunch was code for sex, which was why you were clad in only a pretty pink lingerie set with silky ribbons and bows, along with a pair of pink high heels which Ari already couldn’t take his eyes off of.

“Sorry, daddy, I just didn’t feel like shopping.”

You cross and uncross your legs, looking up at him and biting your lip. How can you tell your sugar daddy that there’s only so many new dress, shoes or purses you can purchase in a week?

Ari huffs, “I’m gonna have to start punishing you if you don’t spend your weekly allowance, sweetheart.”

But he’s already unbuckling his belt, which makes lick your lips excitably. You’d only been in this arrangement with him for a month and a half, but he’d already got you addicted to his dick. And his mouth. His tongue. His hands…

Ari was so different from the college boys you were used to. Not only was he older, mature, experienced in how to please women, but he was also just… so rugged. And tough. Rough around the edges, so to speak. With his mane of long hair, his bristly beard and wild eyes, he was incredibly virile, handsome, and quite frankly, every girl’s wet dream.

In his 40s, he was now the big CEO hotshot of some huge company. But he’d worked for the government when he was younger, going out on international missions and doing all that dangerous, top secret stuff. But that was all he ever told you about that, and yet you could see it on his face, everything he’d been through and the things he’d seen.

He was hot-headed, impulsive and he took what he wanted when he wanted it. You weren’t complaining, because it made for some fantastic, mind-blowing sex.

Like when he’d taken you out to dinner but midway through the meal he’d decided he’d rather devour you instead, and so he’d pulled you into his lap right there and fucked you gently while he fed you pieces of steak. Luckily, the two of you were in a corner booth. Unluckily, most of the wait-staff had seen, but Ari left them a hefty tip to make sure they never mentioned it again.

Or the time he’d come to pick you up from campus, only to see you talking to one of the boys from your history class. That was the day you’d found out how jealous Ari Levinson was capable of being. He’d slung you over his lap and spanked your ass raw for the better part of the journey home. His limo driver had drawn the partition, and you’d cried until your daddy pulled you upright, kissed your face and told you it way okay.

Or, the time you’d forgot to call him daddy during sex once, which was very much against the rules. Ari wanted you to call him daddy and nothing else when inside the bedroom. Which was why he’d tied you up and aggressively licked your cunt till your legs were shaking and you were on the brink of passing out, and the only word you were able to utter was “daddy.”

Back in the present, Ari allows his pants to drop to the floor along with his boxers, and he gives you a meaningful look.

“Daddy’s had a long day and wants you to suck his dick, sweetheart.”

You sink down to your knees, trying to be sexy about it and you know he appreciates that. You love how he can’t take his eyes off your body, how the lingerie hugs your curves and pushes your breasts up. How tantalising your cleavage looks, especially with you on your knees in front of him. You know Ari loves your body, and loves buying you pretty, revealing things so he can show you off to all his friends and colleagues.

You grab hold of his big dick, throat already hurting at the thought of having that inside your mouth. You loved his dick because it was pretty and brought you so much pleasure, but it was also so insanely big, and Ari loved to make you choke on it. Which happened every time you gave him a blowjob because you still weren’t used to his size, and he preferred you taking all of it in till you couldn’t breathe. You knew he loved it when you couldn’t breathe, when his enormous dick was suffocating you…

“And then after you do that, you’re going to sit on my lap and scroll through my phone till you’ve found some nice things to spend your allowance on. Got that, gorgeous?”

You nod submissively, and Ari smirks. He’s still got his belt in his hand and he loops it around your neck, tightening it till it’s incredibly snug. And just being there, by his feet with a makeshift leash around your neck gets you wetter than it should.

“Such a good little girl,” Ari grunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you take his cock into your mouth. Giving Ari a blowjob is always a messy affair, and soon enough, he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at top speed, muttering profanities while he orders you to keep your eyes on his.

He rubs his dick all over your face, smearing your cheeks and nose with his precum and your own spit. He slaps you across the face with his cock, chuckling breathlessly when you pout because he knows how wet it gets you. And he grabs your hair, pushing you down till your deep-throating him, your nose pressed against his pelvis till you can’t breathe and you begin to flail your limbs.

But his belt around your neck keeps you in place, as does his constant praises “What a good little girl,” “daddy loves how well you take my dick,” “you’re so good for me, baby. So sexy and cute when you’ve got my dick down your throat.”

He cums on your face and doesn’t let you clean it off. He tells you that you look beautiful like this, and then, true to his word, sits you down on his lap and hands you his phone. You scroll through one expensive brand website after another, all while he plays with your lingerie, petting and kissing you how he loves to, and telling you how sexy you are with his cum on your face.

“Sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d have you in nothing except covered in diamonds, and my cum on your face.”

He immediately orders you an expensive pair of diamond earrings from Cartier (as if you haven’t already got two whole jewellery boxes full of diamonds and pearls and sapphire and what not — all from Ari of course). And then he insists that the earrings were his gift to you, and that you still need to spend your allowance.

After a lot of pouting and grumbling, and some reprimanding smacks to your bottom later, you’ve let him buy you two Chanel handbags, a dress from Versace’s newest Resort collection (not even in stores yet, but Ari had his connections), as well as five new pairs of shoes (all high heels, of course).

“Now was that so hard, baby?”

“I guess not. But I’m gonna run out of space soon, with all the things you keep buying me.”

Ari scoffs, “I have another apartment in the upper east side. You can use it as your shoe closet.”

“You’re really into the heels, aren’t you, daddy?” You tease, twirling your bare legs in the air, your heels catching the light and you feel Ari getting hard again. He grabs your ankle suddenly, pressing kisses up your calf while you gasp and squirm in his lap. His bonded digs at your ass and his hands fondle you everywhere, tugging at your lingerie before he abruptly stops himself.

“Baby, go wait for me inside the bedroom. Everything off except the shoes. And lie on the bed for me with your legs spread out.”

You raise an eyebrow, “That’s awfully specific, daddy—OW!”

He smacks your ass four times in quick succession.

“Go. Now. I’ve got the rest of the day off and daddy plans to fuck your little pussy till I’ve had my fill. Which won’t be any time soon, so take a couple of bottles of water with you too.”

***

JSJDSJSKSKSK THE END IDK I AM IN SYCH A SUGAR DADDY ARI MOOD BYE.

[atomicami]

tattoo artist!abby hcs

modern!abby anderson x fem!reader

✰ content: no outbreak obviously, mentions of needles, tattoos/piercings, vegas living, mentions of anxiety from reader, a bit of homophobia, there are nsfw headcanons so minors and ageless blogs DNI!!, mentions of oral and strap usage (r!receiving), mirror play, scissoring, some picture taking, very inappropriate use of piercings 😀 different sex positions, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

✰ middle pic creds to @abbystanaccount

these headcanons are inspired off a pic i saw on twitter the other day that literally had me going feral. like if that isn’t the most tattoo artist!abby coded shit then idk what is. so let’s talk about it!

✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s been addicted to getting tattoos since the day she turned 18 and is so obsessed with the buzzing of the tattoo gun that she decided to dedicate her whole career on it

✰ tattoo artist!abby also canonically has her tongue pierced. you can’t tell me otherwise.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s now in her mid 20s and owns a tattoo shop in las vegas, nevada, since the tattoo industry tends to pay pretty well there. what happens in vegas doesn’t always tend to stay there, right?

✰ tattoo artist!abby goes through lots of customers on a day to day basis, and personally she could care less whether they’re sober and just looking for some new ink or drunk with some impulsive decision making after a bottomless margarita from fat tuesday’s because she’s still making that bank regardless.

✰ tattoo artist!abby also keeps a black polaroid camera by her station and has a whole collection of photos hung up on the wall next to her desk. to cherish the moment, she’s always had the tradition to take a picture of her first time clients, along with any celebrities that have visited her shop as well.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who hears the shop’s bell chime and turns to see a group of girls coming their way towards reception for a walk in appointment.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who sees you shyly standing in the middle of your friend group, anxiously waiting while you look around her shop

✰ tattoo artist!abby is told by one of your friends that they’re celebrating their graduation season from UNLV and as a memory together they all wanted to get some cheap $10 matching tattoos that her shop offered to customers.

✰ tattoo artist!abby notices that you’re the only one in your friend group that doesn’t have any tattoos and secretly holds her excitement in when you tell her that it’s your first one, because she would love to be the first person to put some ink on that blank canvas of yours.

✰ tattoo artist!abby starts making stencils for your friend group’s matching tattoos. your friends impulsively chose to do matching tramp stamps and of course you reluctantly agree to do it with them.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who, once it’s your turn, tries to keep her cool when you position yourself on the chair, with your front facing with the front of the chair and your bare lower back peeking out of your low rise jeans to her face.

✰ tattoo artist!abby gently placing the stencil on your lower back and handing you a mirror for you to check and see if the placement looks good.

✰ tattoo artist!abby noticing you start to get anxious once she turns on the tattoo gun, and keeps her free hand placed by your hip, and tells you reassuringly “just squeeze my hand if it hurts or if you need a break, okay?”

✰ tattoo artist!abby praising you throughout the whole tattoo process, saying things like “you’re doing so good for me love, just stay still now…i promise we’re almost done.”

✰ tattoo artist!abby who pulls out her polaroid camera once everyone’s finished and takes a group photo of you with your friends to hang up on her client wall, before pulling you to the side to get a photo of just you with your first tat.

✰ tattoo artist!abby letting your first tattoo be on the house and not letting you pay for it, secretly telling you that it’s a special discount just for you since you’re the prettiest client she’s ever had

✰ tattoo artist!abby who runs into you at the grocery store a week later, and you couldn’t help but check her out in the gym outfit she was wearing: dark gray sweats and a tight black muscle tee that perfectly contoured her broad physique and showed off her arms, letting you see how her inked pieces hugged those defined muscles of hers. and her hands…you also couldn’t help but imagine what her tatted fingers would look like inside your cu—

“hey! long time no see…everything alright with the tattoo so far?”

“hm? oh yeah! the tattoo has been healing perfectly…i’ve been doing the aftercare routine you recommended me to do.”

✰ tattoo artist!abby takes advantage of the moment she has with you right now and asks you out on a date, to which you accept.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who takes you out to a lovely restaurant by the strip, and tells you to order whatever you want because she’s been dying to spoil you since the moment you walked into her shop.

✰ tattoo artist!abby holding you close by her side as you walk down the strip with her. since she’s more familiar with vegas than you are, she knows how the strip can be dangerous at night and wants to keep you safe.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who safely drops you off back to your place in her black jeep wrangler, kissing you on the cheek goodbye with a second date already locked in.

✰ who knew that a second date with tattoo artist!abby would soon progress into something much more than that.

✧*.｡✰ ───

✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s now been your girlfriend for almost three years, to which i’m very well aware is equivalent to like a whole decade in wlw relationships but you both are still going strong today.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who manages to expand her tattoo shop, now being a small chain with a few other locations established across las vegas.

✰ tattoo artist!abby loves it when you visit her during your lunch hours, leaving whatever it is that she was doing to any of her other employees to finish so she can spend some time with you

✰ tattoo artist!abby who still has the polaroid she took of you from when you first came into her shop three years ago, placed inside a little red photo frame on her desk right next to her customer photo wall.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who now lives with you, and upgraded her studio apartment to a nice townhouse outside of the strip, since she knows you have a hard time sleeping at night with the overwhelming atmosphere it always carries.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who lets you color her tattoos with markers whenever you get really anxious, since she knows doing that helps you calm down.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s done just a few more pieces on you since the start of your relationship with her, but you always tell her to keep the tattoos minimalistic since that is the style you’ve preferred

✰ tattoo artist!abby who takes you out to eat for your three year anniversary at top of the world, a fancy revolving restaurant located inside the stratosphere hotel that has a panoramic view of the entire las vegas strip

✰ tattoo artist!abby who that same night, waits at the right moment for the hourly fountain show to start playing in front of the bellagio so she can get down on one knee and propose to you right there for everyone to see.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who goes all out for the wedding, booking it at a venue not in vegas, but all the way upstate in lake tahoe, so the two of you can get married with a beautiful lakeside view.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who successfully convinces her father to walk you down the aisle at her wedding after your parents found out that you were going to marry her and decided not to come. despite the fact that jerry wasn’t too fond of abby’s tattoo obsession and had wanted her to follow in his footsteps and become a doctor like him, it didn’t stop him from unconditionally loving and supporting his only daughter. and he knew you were the perfect one to give that to her as well.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who doesn’t even let the officiant finish his final statement and wraps an arm around your waist, twirling you around the altar and giving you the most passionate kiss in front of everyone to tie the knot.

✰ but to really tie the knot, after the wedding ceremony you and abby end up tattooing each others first initial onto each others ring fingers inside her shop.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who is so excited to spend the rest of her life married to an amazing and supportive woman like you.

NSFW HCS UNDER THE CUT

✰ tattoo artist!abby enjoys some good missionary, but then again who doesn’t? she mostly loves doing it to you because she knows you get that sense of protection from her in the bedroom with her prominent, muscular figure towering over yours when she pounds her strap deep inside you.

✰ this one shouldn’t even have to be listed because we all know damn well that tattoo artist!abby eats it for her own pleasure. that woman will eat you out like its her final meal on death row. and with that metal tongue ring of hers rubbing against your clit and teasing your tight entrance, abby’s expert tongue alone will have you cumming into her mouth instantly.

✰ tattoo artist!abby also owns one of those vibrating tongue rings, but she’ll only use that on you after you’ve had AT LEAST three orgasms so you’re super overstimulated for it

✰ tattoo artist!abby definitely makes you look down in between your legs while she fingers you, so you can see how much your wetness is soaking up the healed ink on her fingers while she pumps them in and out of your needy cunt.

✰ tattoo artist!abby also doesn’t care how loud you end up getting while she fucks you, despite how embarrassed you get with startling the neighbors when it happens. if anything she encourages that so they can know how good she’s making you feel.

✰ tattoo artist!abby either uses a completely black strap OR a skin tone colored strap that she had custom made to look like it has tattoos on it, because if she was a dude she would definitely have her dick tatted too idc.

✰ tattoo artist!abby has definitely fucked you in her shop when no one else is around..like can you imagine taking her strap in the same chair that she tattoos her customers?? not to mention she’s got mirrors in that shop and she will definitely make you look at it and watch yourself take her strap like the good slut you are.

✰ in addition, tattoo artist!abby also installed a mirror on the ceiling above the chair. she always tells her customers it’s for them to see their backs better while getting a back piece done but you know damn well she put that in her own shop just for you to watch yourself better the next time she fucks you in that chair again

✰ and we certainly can’t forget about tattoo artist!abby’s iconic polaroid camera…she definitely is one for playing the photographer in the bedroom and keeps loads of nude polaroids of you tucked inside her wallet which are for her eyes only.

✰ tattoo artist!abby LOVES doing reverse cowgirl with you! mainly because she can see your whole back profile perfectly and admire the first piece of ink she put on you every time you ride her strap 🫶🏻

✰ i also feel like it’s not too common for tattoo artist!abby to do this but whenever she feels like doing something different she’ll for sure scissor you too. and it’ll definitely feel good on your end because…well…let’s just say that abby’s tongue isn’t the only part of her body that’s pierced 🫣

✰ and last but not least, tattoo artist!abby is 100% the queen of aftercare. she’ll treat your fucked out self the same way she would with a freshly done tattoo. she’ll draw you a nice warm bath to soothe your muscles, make you drink lots water for hydration, and curl up in the bed with her tatted sleeves wrapped around you as you drift off with her to sleep.

in conclusion, we need to give tattoo artist!abby the attention she deserves 🧎🏻‍♀️thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

[obesogen]

You introduce yourself to someone

"Hi, so-and-so, I'm ..." and you think that you say your name,

but your plump hands, slightly sweaty,

and your swollen forearms, encroaching on small wrists,

your upper arms role-poly like the Michelin man,

and your wide, sloppy, drooping gut,

which is in theory fully covered by a shirt

barely tho;

your deep, wide belly button visible through thin fabric, stretched taut, 12x getting too small,

and let's not forget your double chin,

your soft pillowy neck roll,

your dewlap, a perfectly closed collar of squishy fat that

your tiny features sink into–

these things say

hi so-and-so,

i'm super obese, morbidly obese, obese class III,

i'm permanently disabled by how fat i have become

i'm the fattest person you have ever had to speak to

i'm the fattest person you have ever seen in person

and not on the tv freak show

hi so and so, i'm severely mentally ill

hi so and so, i'm traumatized

hi so and so, i am addicted to food

hi so and so, i have no impulse control

hi so and so, i'm ... what's your name again?

you are no one, nothing,

all you are and all you can ever be is gloriously obese beyond the frenzied imaginings of our starving ancestors who carved the venus of willendorf

you are stuffed to the point of near-bursting; even the backs of your neck rolls are frosted with stretch marks. the body always finds somewhere to store fat, and with all the usual spots so filled to the brim, you notice eventually even your forehead is fat; a deposit of soft tissue that furrows above your brows, like a sharpei.

Not long after you got a second mobility aid for out in public, a powerchair with a capaciity of 1100 pounds and hydraulic suspension and tread on its 8 tires like a tank, you started using your old one around the house, always on the verge of breaking down under the additional 200 pounds you carry beyond its rated 500 pound capacity. Not long after, unthinkingly, you just stopped walking, out of sheer bone-idleness. You couldn't say when your last day on your feet was, you surrendered sooner than that day came, comfortably dependent.

Months later, you dimly attempt to recall when you last moved, standing, from one point in space to another. Until the last month, you could still, barely, haul yourself up using a bar to support and balance yourself. From being pushed up out of your powerchair with a forward lift, to the belly gathering momentum and sliding down, to you standing shakily and taking one shuffling step to reposition your body so you can transfer from one big chair to another big chair, and from one big chair to the big motorized bariatric hospital bed.

Now, just 20 pounds later, you can't move your blob body hardly at all below your greedy mouth with its greasy, parted, mouthbreathing lips and beyond your wriggling sausage link fingers. You cannot move any other part of your body without needing help. You are not to your knowledge paralyzed really in any way, you just shamelessly became too fat to lift your own arms, you press a button on a remote that must be attached to your fat hand since if you drop it you couldn't even retrieve it with a string, you are just that weak– so thoroughly inhabiting how obese you are through the total abdication of all decisions.

Once the support bar began to gather dust and was eventually packed away- you become adjusted to transfering from place to place using motorized cranes and winches, your fat slab form filling huge slings with tough straps, prone and helpless, drowning beneath countless rolls, lovingly oiled machinery creaking as it hefts your megafat body.

Your muscles are so weak and your limbs are so heavy. You still have the urge to to struggle and sweat to lift another treat to your bottomless pit of a stomach. You are estimated to be able to hold several gallons in there before feeling sick from fullness.

Most days you simply lie expectantly and grunt with your mouth open, eating everything you are given by any of your staff or acolytes, and sucking melted ice cream sludge from one tube, or chugging diet coke or (regular) mountain dew from 2 different (fountain) tubes.

Turns out there's more than irony to research suggesting artificial sweeteners like aspartame provoke intense cravings for actual sugar.

You are fat beyond reason. Only the most depraved massive, disabling, immobilizing obesity fetishists could find your tremendous doughy body, with a belly so outsized you must be buckled into powerchairs and scooters and even the shower chair. If you don't endure the humiliation of being buckled into the modern day litter which drags your fat around, your unwieldy pannus threatens to upset your vehicle, tipping you forward and pulling you down– you know you would be left on the floor gasping, unable to even sit up, defenseless, amorphous.

And besides,

you forgot your name anyway

years ago,

dont you remember? my

pitiful

swollen

hog.

[drdemonprince]

Can u talk about the process of replacing your desire for unhealthy relationship dynamics that were sexually exciting with desire for explicitly negotiated kinky sex? or do I just need to wait for the essay lol

It's not actually in the piece but now that you mention it, it could make for a really strong narrative turning point.

It started by me cheating on my abusive partner with kinky people! I realized at some point during a two-year relationship in graduate school that was extremely toxic that I was so addicted to my partner because I was getting off on the control he exerted over my body and life. I wanted to get away from him, but I felt utterly dependent on how he made me feel, and he was already cheating on me...so I hopped onto OK Cupid and started flirting with some people.

It made me feel good, it made me feel like I could live on without him and build a new life for myself. I had a few fairly vanilla hookups with people at first, and it didn't do much for me, but one of those casual partners became a lifelong friend. Then a sexy, bombastic stand-up comedian who was just coming up in the local scene slid into my inbox, allured by the fact I described myself as shy. He was pushy and hyperconfident, which I liked. And when he asked me what kinks turned me on in bed, the truth came spilling out: Dom-sub.

(I wish I'd had the gall to tell him hypnosis, which had been a lifelong fetish of mine. This guy would prove to be fascinated by rare and niche kinks, but I was too ashamed of my hypnosis thing to tell anyone at that point).

The stand up comedian started domming me after that. He'd make me pay for his cab, throw me over a chair, finger me, and fuck me in the ass hard while biting my back and leaving massive welts. The sex was incredible. But he was also an egotistical 21-year-old with an active heroin addiction (he swore up and down to me that the drug 'wasn't a big deal'), and he started fucking me without a condom without my consent, which was traumatic and to this day is the reason I rarely receive anal sex. Ultimately he became controlling and jealous of my other (abusive) primary partner, and he left me, and then died of a heroin overdose after sending me a few more stray messages recounting good old times.

It was a mess. But I learned a lot about myself through this encounter, and practiced articulating what I wanted for the very first time. I was mistreated, but I also had incredibly hot sex that I still revisit in my mind's eye. I know for a fact that this stand-up comedian reviewed our own chat messages shortly before he died, and that he remembered those times fondly too. I feel bad that he died so young, and was so lost and confused, and I wish that he could have survived long enough to get better and make amends.

After that experience (and after escaping my primary abusive relationship), I got into a very safe, vanilla relationship for many years. I was too traumatized for anything else, and the gentle, passive boyfriend that I found was very healing to be with. But eventually I did get bored with the sex, and his lack of emotional availability, and became profoundly depressed. It was around this time that I started taking Sam-E , an over-the-counter anti-depressant supplement whose side effects include increased libido and a kind of dreamy headspace. On impulse, I started searching for erotic hypnosis play websites one day.

I met several hypo-kinky partners on the site I found, a now-defunct chat site called Sleepychat that would pair hypnotists with hypno-bottoms. One of them was a truly skillful, communicative, and caring partner who built a whole complex hypnotic architecture and series of safeties and triggers in my mind. We are still friends. I had lots of play with lots of people, and started attending a hypno kink convention that just so happens to occur in the Chicago suburbs. I became gradually more comfortable acknowledging my kinks to people, and made lots of hypno-kinky audio files and stories. I had other Doms and owners, and had lots of wild sex here and there. Still, my serious, long-term vanilla relationship limited me.

I only really started searching out formally kinky relationships in earnest in 2021, after ending that vanilla relationship. I've been pretty firmly embedded within a variety of kink scenes since. My taste for hypnosis led me to regular D/s, and to leather and bondage, and to pup play and furry stuff. I've really come alive in the last handful of years. I've learned so much about myself and the many scenes, met so many people, had so much great sex and so much mid sex and been in all kinds of wonderful and toxic and off putting and funny dynamics. This aspect of my life only keeps getting better, and I'm excited for lots of new experiences this year!

damn i just about gave you a full essay right here

[rafescherie]

WHEN THE DUST SETTLES — RAFE CAMERON

synopsisᝰ.ᐟ ex!reader can’t bear to see rafe treating his new girlfriend so badly — she’d be there to pick up the pieces of his broken heart, though

warningᝰ.ᐟ angst ! rafe mentioned but not in the fic, manipulative reader, mentions of toxicity and manipulation. i hope this is giving amy dunne my beloved

word countᝰ.ᐟ 1,108

she was gorgeous — really, she was. sleek brunette hair that kissed just above her shoulders, a tight little body that could keep any man’s undivided attention, and a personality so warm and inviting it was impossible not to like her. sweet, generous, kind — the perfect package. she had that down-to-earth charm, growing up on the cut and still somehow managing to stay humble about it. you could see why he liked her. she mirrored the same version of you he had fallen for years ago, back before everything crumbled.

her hesitation had been palpable at first, sneaking out behind her boyfriend’s back to meet with his ex-girlfriend. the forbidden allure of the situation must’ve been too tempting to resist. curiosity killed the cat, after all. and now here she was, perched nervously in the chair across from you, eyes wide and glistening with apprehension as she absorbed every word. you weren’t sure if it was horror or disbelief reflected in her gaze, but you knew she was listening.

“i don’t want this to affect your relationship, obviously,” you said, voice heavy with practiced sincerity. “i just think you deserve to know what i’ve been through. there’s a pattern here, sofia, and it’s glaringly obvious from a mile away.” you leaned back, pressing a hand against your temple as the headache brewing at the base of your skull flared.

sofia swirled her bright orange drink with the thin straw, taking slow, deliberate sips as she nodded. her face softened with an apologetic expression, one so genuine it made your chest loosen. you hadn’t expected her to seem this understanding — it was disarming, really.

“i’ve been through hell with rafe cameron,” you admitted, voice low and laden with the weight of memories. the name alone seemed to steal the air from the room. her boyfriend. the words sat unspoken between you like an undeniable truth. “and i can’t stand the thought of you going through the same thing i did. i know how it starts.”

she shifted forward in her chair, chin propped on her hand, as if urging you to go on.

“months of not seeing him because he was off on one of his impulsive escapes — running after those stupid pogues to god-knows-where in south america. screaming matches in the middle of the night over nothing, to the point my voice cracked and gave out the next morning. and his addiction…” your voice faltered. “that was the worst of it. cocaine, sofia. it consumed him. no matter how hard i tried, no matter what i did, he always chose it over me.”

her lips parted slightly, her eyes flickering with disbelief. “i had no idea,” she murmured.

you let out a humorless laugh. “nobody does. he’s good at hiding it when he wants to be. but trust me, he’s not the perfect man he pretends to be. and the worst part? he was the one who broke up with me.” you shook your head, the absurdity of it all still bitter on your tongue.

sofia’s brow furrowed, and she leaned in closer. “everything you say will stay between us,” she reassured, her tone steady but laced with sincerity. “i promise.”

could you trust her? that question lingered in your mind, but the truth was, you didn’t need to. this wasn’t about loyalty; it was about planting the seed.

“i don’t even know where to start,” you sighed, resting your chin on your palm. “i should’ve left the first time it happened, but i didn’t. i was in love, you know? and every time i tried to bring something up — anything, really — he’d turn it around with some sob story about his childhood. i’d feel guilty, and i’d let it go.”

her expression shifted — a flicker of recognition. she knew exactly what you were talking about.

“he’d compliment other girls right in front of me,” you continued, voice cracking as your emotions began to swell. “and then when i told him it hurt, he’d call me insecure. and if i got upset? suddenly, i was ‘too sensitive.’”

sofia’s face twisted in discomfort, her lips pressed into a thin line. it was clear she wasn’t just hearing you; she was feeling it too.

“he’s done that to me too,” she confessed, her voice quiet but laced with something heavy — shame, maybe, or realization. her hands fidgeted in her lap as she looked down, avoiding your gaze. “he did that with hollis.”

your heart skipped. that was new information. “and let me guess,” you said, leaning forward slightly, “he said it was just work partners or some nonsense like that. made you feel like you were crazy for even questioning it?”

her head snapped up, and she nodded quickly. “exactly. god, it’s like you’re reading my mind.”

“i’ve been there,” you said, voice low and somber. “i tried to leave so many times, but every time i did, he’d pull me back in. he’d remind me of all the things he did for me — made me feel like i owed him something.”

“jesus.” sofia’s voice cracked, her composure slipping as her emotions bubbled to the surface. “i thought that was normal with him. god, i feel like such an idiot.”

“don’t,” you cut in quickly, shaking your head. “don’t blame yourself. manipulators like rafe… they know exactly how to get to you. it’s not your fault.”

you reached across the table, offering her a small, reassuring smile. it felt natural, comforting. “i just want you to know the truth. you don’t have to go through what i did.”

she nodded, her expression resolute now, and in that moment, you felt a quiet sense of relief. she understood. she believed you. that was all you needed.

because in the end, this wasn’t just about warning her — it was about planting the seed. the doubt you’d carefully sown would fester, weaving its way into every little moment, every fight, every lingering glance that didn’t feel quite right. it would grow until it was too big to ignore, cracking their perfect little relationship wide open. and when it all came crashing down?

you’d be there. waiting. rafe cameron would come crawling back, brokenhearted and betrayed, just like you had been. and this time, you’d be the one to pick up the pieces.

you hadn’t told sofia the truth to hurt her — it wasn’t about that. you just couldn’t stand to see her go through what you had. and when it happened—when she left him for good—he’d see it too. he’d realize that you’d been there all along, that no one could love him the way you did.

sofia might break his heart, but you’d be there to put it back together. one piece at a time.

[emmyrosee]

Don’t read this bc this is more cute aggression with mr sakusa and this is for me so

Also, yes, these are all things I’ve said to my niece in an act of cute aggression 💅🏼

-

“I could rip your teeth out.”

“That’s nice, baby.”

Kiyoomi is used to you. It’s the only reason, you’re convinced, that he lets you do the things you do, say the feral things you say. Your methods of making him swoon were, arguably, cuter than he’d expect, and he openly tells you that when you used to get self conscious about it.

(“It’s not every day someone wants to squeeze me until I pop.”

“Well, now, it will be. Welcome to your life.”

He smirks, “well alright then.”)

It’s not a lie- he’s never had someone as openly affectionate as you, clinging to his arm at the grocery store, biting his muscles and neck when he’s trying to cook dinner (his teammates ask him constantly what things you two get up to- he doesn’t have the heart to tell them you bit him when he was making some tea) just doing anything and everything to bug him domestically.

Its… comforting, in a bizarre way. To know you find him absolutely intoxicating and addictive. He’s not entirely sure he’d change it.

Even now, when you practically have burrowed into his skin.

“I could kick you; how dare you be so cute?” You pout, laying your head on his shoulder restfully.

He chuckles and continues to scroll through his phone, “it’s strange- I’m so used to Komori being the cute one.”

You roll your eyes and snicker, “you’re so full of it, and you know you are. You’ve always been the cute one, shut the hell up.”

“Handsome, maybe, but never cute-“

In an instant, he’s cute off by your hand immediately darting towards his face. Your fingers fly up at his mouth, trying to grip his teeth. It’s something you don’t do often because he can’t stand it, but it seems like today, you’re on a mission to be as close to him as possible.

“Ah!” He snaps, turning his head away. You retract your hand as he gives you a scolding look. Immediately, you feel bad that the impulsive thoughts won, and you made him so mad. “We talked about that. Don’t do that.”

“But-“

“No. Do. Not. Grab at my teeth.”

You pout softly at the reprimand in his tone, mumbling a soft ‘I’m sorry’ as you settle back down, your head dipping to hide in the crook of his neck. He lets out a sigh and plops his phone on the side table and shuffle a bit.

“You know I like your cute aggressions…. Except that one. Of all the things you do, that’s the one I can’t tolerate babe, you know that.”

“You’re just so pretty. I can’t help it.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” He says, absolutely teasing you and you giggle as you hide your face in his neck. “Is biting me not good enough? Is sniffing me until you can’t breathe not good enough now?” He interrupts his own preach by pecking kisses all over your cheek, holding you tighter as you start to squirm away. “Is coming into my shower not good enough now? Is dropping by extra desserts at practice not good enough? Is sucking hickeys on my cheeks not good enough?”)

You move your head away from his neck to giggle more and try to make an attempt away from his kisses, but this gives him real estate, and he decides to take it. He starts to give you a taste of your own medicine, biting at your cheek and ear and neck and fingers now pinching up your sides and ribs.

“Omi!”

“Is crawling into my lap while I’m on a zoom call not good enough? Is stealing my pillows from under my head when you’re sleeping not good enough? Is taking my clothes when you’re sick not good enough? Is picking. My nose. When I’m mad. NOT GOOD ENOUGH?”

Your struggles to get away from him are in vain, he’s got you gathered in his big arms, your head tossed back and feet kicking for a meek attempt at freedom. He peppers bites and kisses continuously on your neck, smiling against your skin as you scream and whine into the air.

“Are all these things so boring now and you have to grab my literal teeth?”

“Yes!” You titter, and while it does make him stop in surprise, he’s quick to smack the facade back on, pulling his head back to glare at you. You flash him some puppy eyes while you reach up to card the curls from his face, “I’m just obsessed with you… always need more ways to get under your skin.” You laugh as he sighs and leans his forehead against yours, clearly not caring half as much as he says, and taking gentle breaths against you. “I love bugging you.”

“Well, how could you not when you do such a good job?”

“I know right?” Once again, he lifts his head up to glare playfully at you, snickering as you continue to flash him the same innocent beam.

“Can you promise me you won’t grab my teeth anymore?” He asks, shifting a hand to lace with yours; he brings the knuckles of your hand up to kiss them, a way to show his affection and also, sort of, maybe, convince you to promise.

You sigh softly and let him kiss over your fingers, letting the comfortable silence between you both relish. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

He groans in faux agony, face crashing down to bury in your chest, and you cackle while he does, your arms tossing around his shoulders to keep him close.

“I hate you,” he grumbles.

“No you don’t. You eat this shit up and you know it.”

He sends a dirty look at you between his lashes before sighing and laying his head back down. “Don’t expose me.”

“That’s what I thought.”

[trophyprincess]

Here are some tips that have helped me stay sane in the face of my body dysmorphia and disordered eating habits.

Positivity time! This one's for all the ladies out there struggling with their bodies.

Body dysmorphia causes changes to visual areas of the brain. Your brain is literally lying to you. You are hallucinating. No, seriously. This is SO SO IMPORTANT. Look, if you have an ED then chances are, you may very well have legitimate body dysmorphic disorder. Your brain may be warping and distorting the image in the mirror. It's why everyone around you keeps saying how thin you are, but all you can see in the mirror is flab. It's a neurophysiological thing. (Most of the literature on BDD seems to pertain to cases regarding the patient's facial features or similar, rather than in the context of body size in ED patients, though.)

One binge won't undo your progress. Everyone fucks up sometimes. Don't dwell, don't ruminate, just pick yourself up the next day and keep going! This applies to "binges" in the proper clinical sense, as well as 4n4 "binges" that are more aptly described as simply "overeating." I occasionally will give myself a "free day" once a month or so, or if it's a holiday or something.

If you fast and restrict, take a good multivitamin, plus a calcium supplement! I also take thiamine to be safe. Being thin and undereating are associated with osteoporosis risk later in life, so calcium is a must! You need to make sure you're getting all of the critical micronutrients your body needs to function.

Exercise, especially cardio, helps with dopamine regulation. I have industrial strength ADHD-PI, ymmv. I also find that exercise bike, walking, or even pacing constantly = STIMMY STIMMY STIM TIME STIMS, MUST STIM, MORE STIM, CANNOT BE STILL, FUCK YOUR QUIET HANDS. Again, ymmv, fuck quiet hands, all my ND homies hate quiet hands.

Strengthening/resistance exercises help prevent osteoporosis later in life. 20-30 minutes 3-5x/week of yoga or pilates is great for this!

THC gummies are pretty low calorie. Shoutout to drugs other than alcohol for not having calories! (I use cannabis and hallucinogens, not big on hard drugs though.)

If you do drink, there are low cal options, but please moderate and try to follow CDC guidelines and avoid frequent binge drinking!! Guys, susceptibility to addiction runs in families. Also, struggling with impulse control aspects of binging may cooccur sometimes with susceptibility to alcohol abuse and addiction. I like vodka with diet tonic water, gin and tonic with diet tonic water, and vodka cosmos with diet 5 cal cranberrry "juice!" White Claw and similar hard seltzers are also great. Personally, I avoid drinking alone, don't drink all that often, and take care to be responsible and cautious. Ymmv, especially if you're still in early adulthood and just now starting to really experiment with substances!

When you do eat, make sure to get enough protein and fats! Carbs, you can take or leave. No one ever died from lack of carbohydrates, oddly enough. Protein and fat, though? I've had seizures due to low blood protein (combined with an accidental double dose of bupropion, to be fair). Rabbit starvation is a thing. This is especially important to pay attention to if you're vegetarian or vegan! Egg whites, chicken, tuna and other fish, olives, chickpeas, nuts, and beans are all good low calorie sources of protein and fats. (Olives, legumes, and especially nuts are energy dense though, so moderation is key.)

Enjoy the nice, healthy, low calorie foods that you do eat. It's okay to enjoy food, even if it's safe foods like light salads or cauliflower rice with vegetables.

Seek out social support and harm reduction advice. One thing people overlook about the whole "pr0 4n4" thing is that these communities are key sources of social support and harm reduction information for people who struggle with EDs.

[billwidoll]

Stalker (part one)

Rafe never believed in love at first sight, he was always the biggest hater of love. But when he saw you, strolling through the streets of New York,He just fell in love with you. He saw the way you walked, the way you smiled, he thought you were perfect. And the day Rafe saw you, he was at a very important business dinner.

Your face was stuck in his head for hours, and he had to find out where you lived, what your name was, where you worked. Rafe was a millionaire, so he used his money to get hackers to find you.

It was very difficult to find a person, whose name no one knows, so Rafe dropped this hacking plan, so he decided to do it himself. Rafe went to the same place and was there waiting for you exactly The same hours you spent when he saw you for the first time. And this time he saw you again, passing by. When Rafe saw you, he had a huge smile and was proud of what he had achieved.

Rafe waited for you to pass, but he followed you surreptitiously, and this chase stopped at a finished building in New York, it was probably the house where his muse lived. Rafe had the audacity to enter the building, and take the same elevator you were in.

When he entered the elevator he could smell your sweet and addictive scent, you had such good energy. Honestly, Rafe was crazy about you, capable of doing anything for you.

"New resident?" You ask with a gentle smile on your lips.

Rafe couldn't be fascinated by your voice, you were truly perfect. And he was still very kind and pleasant.

"I...I...I'm visiting a friend" Rafe says a little off guard, because he's talking to you.

You nod, Rafe was going to start a conversation, but the elevator arrived at your apartment floor, and you left, before Rafe could talk to you. Rafe left on impulse on the same floor as your apartment, he couldn't believe he was doing all this because of you. What was it about you that made him like that

Rafe followed you more surreptitiously, as it would be very obvious if you saw him there near your apartment, but you didn't notice and that made Rafe relieved. He watched you enter your apartment, and saw that your apartment number was 234. And that number was going to be his lucky number, because to Rafe, you were his angel, and everything that represented you.

Rafe knew where you lived, and that was a good thing. For him.

2 months later

_____________________

2 memes passed and Rafe was completely involved in your life, he already knew EVERYTHING about you, if you doubt it, he knows more about your life than you do. Rafe quit his job, he didn't have to Working, he was already rich and stable, he stopped going out with friends and dating, Rafe's life only depended on you, even though you had no idea who he was.

Rafe followed you everywhere, and you didn't notice, and you rarely greeted each other "casually", for you it was normal, but for Rafe it was a dream come true. Rafe had already made several plans to infiltrate your life, and the next plan was to live in the same building you lived in. Rafe bribed the apartment's resident to leave and give the apartment to Rafe. And so he did, he was living next door to you now, Rafe was happy. And he couldn't wait, to break into your house at 00:00.

You were leaving to go to work and came across a man placing casual electronics inside your old neighbor's apartment.

"New resident?" You ask the same question you asked Rafe, but you didn't realize it was the same person.

"and...I am! My name is Drew Starkey" Rafe says, changing his name, to stop hiding it better.

You thought you had seen him, but you didn't remember. Rafe was bracing for this reaction. So he cut his hair and worked out more, getting stronger. And he was also trying to change The cold personality, he was trying to be more Nice. Because he was sure you didn't like bad boys, so he was pretending to be the good guy.

"You are very welcome, my name is Sn" you say with a huge smile on your face and raising your hand to greet him.

Rafe's heart almost jumped from skin to mouth, he was so looking forward to this.

"Thank you very much for the greetings, and your name is beautiful"

Rafe says, praising you, that's all he wanted to say to you, he just wanted to praise you. Your cheeks turn red, and since Rafe studied you for 2 months, he knew you were shy.

"thank you Drew" you say with a shy smile and Rafe wishes that smile would stay on your face forever "I'd love to keep talking to you, but I have to go to work"

You say, ending the conversation and Rafe feels sad, but he hides it.

"well...I'll see you later?" Rafe says wanting to make sure you guys would talk later.

"yes! Yes! I would love to" you say enthusiastically and Rafe notices this and he was sure you were liking him.

"that's good...I'll see you later then, right?" He says asking for confirmation.

"yes!"

_____________________

When you left for work, Rafe immediately went to try to break into your house. He used every method to unlock his door, and for the fifth time, he succeeded. And he smiled Huge when he achieved this.

He entered the apartment, and saw that it was well organized and clean, he saw several art paintings, and also several photos of himself pasted on the wall, without thinking twice, he picked up some and put them away In the pocket. He goes to his room, and smells a sweet perfume, he wanted to stay there for hours. He sits on his bed and runs his hand over your bed, he smells the sheets and it was sweet and Soft.

He goes to his drawer and looks through various things, until he finds the panties drawer, and their eyes light up. He takes several of her panties and puts them in his pocket. He smells your panties, and lies down on your bed.

Rafe stayed there the whole afternoon, he was discovering a lot more about you. Rafe looks at the clock and realizes that there are 2 minutes left until you get home from work, and he immediately puts everything in place. And I ran away from there.

Rafe goes to take a shower and make his favorite dinner, as he had told you to stop by his house earlier, and Rafe locks the door to the second bedroom of his apartment, as that was the place That were all states about you.

Rafe hears the doorbell and it was clearly you at the door, Rafe was smelling good and showered. He takes a deep breath and opens the door

"hello Sn!" He says it as if he were an angel. And you smile with that look in his eyes.

"hello Drew..." She says looking down, Rafe was very intimate with her. "I made this strawberry pie for you" you say with a smile showing the pie.

Rafe couldn't pay attention to the pie, he could only look at you, you looked beautiful. You were so delicate and it messed with Rafe's catheter.

"Can you come in please" Rafe says giving you space to enter, and you do, when you pass Rafe he smells your perfume.

"your apartment is so... organized" you say, looking around.

Rafe smiled knowing you were organized too.

"what do you expect from a 29 year old man?"

Rafe speaks referring to himself, and he wasn't 29 either, he was 30. But he was avoiding everything about his past life.

"You're 29 years old? Oh my God" you say with your mouth open and Rafe sees that the conversation is going well.

"Do I look that old to be under 30?" Rafe jokes, and you laugh.

"no, that's not what I meant, but the other way around, you understand? You look like you're 19 or 20" you say, being more Clara now and Rafe prepares another joke.

"Now you're calling me baby?" Rafe speaks again jokingly and you laugh again, both of you were loving the conversation.

"that's enough, you're impossible!" You say jokingly too and sitting on his couch, still laughing.

Rafe was also laughing, but he couldn't let the conversation die.

"and you? How many do you have?" Rafe asks, knowing exactly how old you are.

"I'm 21, surprising?" She says jokingly and Rafe laughs, shaking his head.

"No, you're too beautiful to be 84 years old"

Rafe says and you laugh at his jokes. Rafe wasn't like that, but he knew you liked people like that, so he was trying to be nicer.

"Shall we eat? I swear I did the best I could" Rafe says, creating another topic to continue the conversation.

"I promise I'll be honest" she says playfully. And Rafe was loving her every split second.

Rafe couldn't stop looking at your eyes, they were beautiful and bright, Rafe needed, needed you in his life. Sooner or later.

Rafe takes the food out of the oven, and he looks great. Rafe knew how to cook very well, when he was little, his father took him to cooking classes, ordered by Rafe's mother.

“Wow, it looks delicious”

you say looking at the frying pan that was in Rafe’s hand. You didn't expect to meet a man over 20, who knew how to cook, was kind, and had a home Organized. He was practically a Roman prince straight out of books.

"well, I hope it's pleasant, I don't want to embarrass myself around such a beautiful girl"

Rafe says praising you with a beautiful smile on His face, and your heart can't help but flutter.

"Let's eat?" Rafe says, placing the food on the table and pulling out the chair for you to sit.

He serves you the food, and you are impressed by the ring that was in Rafe's hands. The ring was large and luxurious, and it also appeared to be pure gold.

"Ah, I'm sorry, but that ring...it's so ostentatious" You ask, a little afraid, not knowing the financial situation of your new neighbor.

When Rafe hears that, his head immediately clicks, he hadn't realized that something so valuable was on his finger.

"Ah... that's... it's my family's ring, all parents give this ring to their son when he becomes an adult"

Rafe makes up this story that never happened, but the story made sense in his head.

,"oh... of course, sorry to ask, and it's so similar to those rings that the rich people in the city wear"

You explain, giving Rafe a nice smile, and Rafe was afraid that you would somehow find out that it didn't make sense for a man to have a gold ring, and live in a poor apartment in the city.

"What do you work with?" Rafe asks, trying to quickly get away from the subject of the ring, and he already knew where you worked.

"I work as a secretary, but in my spare time I make money as an artist"

you say, not very happy with the life you led, you didn't want that future, and Rafe knew that, because he knew you Better than anyone.

"I think artists are incredible, after I met Leonardo da Vinci, I simply fell in love with art"

Rafe talks while eating a piece of chicken, he understands a lot about history, references, science. Rafe was a great student. He was intelligent, and he was a 30-year-old millionaire, who had no children, he It was the guy.

"Do you know Leonardo da Vinci's paintings?" You say with your mouth open, your new neighbor was a box of surprises.

"Yes! My favorites are the last supper and Mona Lisa" Rafe says, captivating you more.

The two of you stayed talking for hours and hours. Rafe simply taught a lesson about the world. She loved the conversation. She unfortunately told you to go home, and Rafe didn't want you to go.

"I loved this dinner....it was just perfect Drew" you say, taking your coat and giving a slight smile.

That was music to Rafe's ears.

"your company was perfect" Rafe once again praised you, and you accepted it well this time, giving him a smile.

You went up to him to greet him before you left, and you went to give Rafe a kiss on the cheeks, but he turned away when you approached. And this ends up making you two kiss.

To be continued

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Restless Night

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: An impulsive phone call leads to a happy ending

Word Count: 1307

Warnings: Slight angst, smut, pet names, little to no (y/n), mentions of missions, lemme know if i missed anything  

A/N: MCU!Peter - I do plan to write something for TASM!Peter in the future but this was just easier for my brain to set up the scene. I wanted to do something different and challenged myself to write something that was more dialogue-heavy than I’ve written in a while. Not my best work, but a little smutty smut bc why not

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

The soft sound of the television playing a forgotten movie almost drowned out the sound of the phone ringing, tucked under a pillow and muffled. The sweet cusp of sleep was only moments away, being dragged out by the vibrating as the first call ended and a second came through. 

The near unconsciousness caused forethought to be left behind, grabbing the phone, answering the call, and putting it to your ear. A soft "hello?" was all you could muster. 

"Hey, baby."

A tsunami of emotions flooded through your body, suddenly wide awake and hyper aware of everything that was going on; The television was nearing the end of the movie you had put on, your clock reading 1:32, the lights from the cars passing by casting various dancing shadows around your room.  

"I've missed you, baby." 

His voice was sweet, almost addictive and something you hadn't realized was a need buried deep inside you. You shuffled, forcing yourself up and sitting against the squishmallow he'd won for you on your first time, something you hadn't been able to get rid of. 

"Hi, Peter," you voice was quiet, sleep still etched between the syllables. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, "Peter, why'd you call? It's been 10 months."

Peter let out a soft sigh, you could hear him shuffling around. "Missing you really bad tonight, love. M' on a mission," there was another sigh, "I almost got hurt, like really hurt. Thankfully Bucky was there. All I could think about was you."

"Peter!" You voice was now much louder, instantly filled with worry, "Don't go and get yourself ki-"

He cut you off, "I wasn't tryna get hurt, baby. We got ambushed. We had just went in there for me to copy some information onto a drive. Ended up being some rogue Hydra agents, a leg of them we didn't even know existed." Peter was rambling and he knew it, he was starting to think the reason he called was a bad one. 

You sighed, body riddled with a million different emotions, "Pete, why'd you call me?"

"I miss you," his words had a slight whine to them, "I wanna touch you so badly, wanna hold you and kiss you."

If he was there you would have undoubtedly melted into him. The breakup was mutual, but difficult nonetheless. Between trying to focus on your career and all of the responsibilities Peter had, it was near impossible to maintain a relationship - there was no time for date nights or dinner, no time to sit and reminisce and talk about the future. For months, the only time spent together was sleeping in the same bed, which was almost always disrupted by some responsibility. 

You two loved each other, loved each other more than yourselves most days. But it had become too taxing and tiring, the constant worrying, near lack of support because attention was needed elsewhere. So, after a long, tearful date night gone wrong, the two of you agreed to break up, maybe try again when there were less things counting on you both. 

Peter regretted it immediately, but he had wanted to give you space, give you time to flourish and not worry about him. He'd asked M.J. and Ned all the time what you had been up to, he would check your Instagram and Snapchat to see the things you were posting and proud of. He did whatever he could to support you from afar. 

But tonight, tonight he dared to be selfish, he needed to be selfish. Deep down he knew it was wrong, calling you up in the middle of the night because the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and all he wanted was to be with you. 

"I miss you too, Pete." Your voice was soft again, it always was in moments like this. Where the intimacy lay just behind every fiber in your body. 

He hummed, starting to get antsy as he continued to try to figure out how to say what he wanted. "Baby, can you do me a favor?"

"What is it, Pete?" You almost hated how quickly you answered, how eager you were. 

"Touch yourself, sweetheart. I wanna hear you touch yourself."

The gasp that left you was audible. Peter was never incredibly bold, never the type to initiate unless you two were definitely alone. Even in those moments, it was always sweet and loving. But this, Peter calling in the middle of the night, a desperate whine to his words and an insane neediness that make his tone demanding. 

“Baby, if you don’t want to, you can just hang up. I won’t be upset with you.” You could hear some ruffling and the sound of metal hitting the floor. “I just miss the pretty sounds you make, miss the way your face scrunches up, miss the feeling of your skin against mine.”

This wasn’t a command you were going to disobey. He was still rambling, your mind only half paying attention to the honey-like words he was saying. “Do you want me to use my hand or one of my toys?”

He paused for a moment and you could practically hear the smile spread across his lips. “Use your hand, sweetheart. Run you hands across your body like I would.”

You could hear the moment Peter wrapped his hand around himself, a small groan leaving his lips. You listened to him, it being nearly impossible not to. "Wish you were here, Petey," the words slipped out of you as your fingers danced across your skin, sending goosebumps in their wake. 

Your eyes were pinched shut, listening to every whimper and sigh the came through your phone, doing your best to pretend your own touch was his. "Me too, God, me too. Miss kissing your skin, hearing your little gasps when I nip."

"Peter," you couldn't help but whimper, forgoing anymore teasing and quickly giving your clit the much needed attention. It never took long with Peter for you to become needy and impatient, let alone when it had been almost a year since you heard the noises he was making, "I'm not gonna last long, want you so badly," your words were gasped out between soft moans, instant pleasure radiating from your core already making your body warm.

"Me neither, baby," there was a low groan that slipped from him, strangled as he attempted to hold himself together. With every sound you made, he nearly felt like he was in a dream. But he knew this was real, his subconscious hyper aware of the thin walls in the shitty hotel he was holed up in for the night and the super soldier who undoubtedly could hear him. 

A endless stream of "fuck"s, gasps, moans, and whimpers flooded through each phone. It only took a few more minutes before the coil burst and the warmth of your high shook through your body, thighs quaking and chest heaving. Peter followed suit, a breathy moan of your name as he spilled into his hand and all over his abdomen. 

There was a lingering silence as the  other of you recovered, both taking in what has just happened while relishing in the aftermath. Peter broke the silence first, "Need to get m'self cleaned up," he mumbled. There was another beat of silence from him, "I do really miss you."

You hummed your agreement, shifting yourself into a more comfortable position. "I do really wish you were here." 

He huffed out a small laugh, a sound that was laced with relief and contentedness. "I'll be home tomorrow at 4. I still got my key, I'll bring dinner, and we can talk. How does that sound?"

Now it was your turn to laugh, excitement filling every nerve in your body. "It sounds like a date."

[warblogs17282]

Blitz and Stolas, and their coping mechanisms. A breakdown of the matter.

Just so we're clear, I am not saying who has the worst coping mechanisms out of the two in the post, I think they both have pretty bad coping mechanisms for different reasons.

Blitz - Present Day.

The ice cream binges:

I wasn't really going to think all that much about this, but this line from ghostfuckers caught my attention. I am willing to admit that Blitz is likely being hyperbolic here by a bit with this statement, but the fact he said this at all points to that it's starting to become an unhealthy coping mechanism for Blitz, and considering it's been a month since Apology Tour, just how much ice cream and cheese has Blitz consumed by this point? Relatively minor thing all things considered, but it's definitely something to keep in mind.

Plus, this isn't even the first time that Blitz has employed this coping mechanism, we see it in s1 e8, right after the disaster that was Ozzie's. I wouldn't call him doing this in s1 e8 'unhealthy' exactly, but I'm just showing this to show that this isn't a new thing for Blitz.

Buying expensive stuff/Poor financial decisions:

Well this purchase wasn't a coping mechanism and more so just Blitz making questionable financial decisions. "And he paid in advance, and I spent it all on this…", I don't know exactly how much an assassination costs exactly, but from the looks of things, it costed a pretty penny. With this giving us our first hint into Blitz likely impulse buying and making questionable financial decisions. (it does look cool af though)

And then ghostfuckers just amps that shit up to ten. Blitz is now 100% buying stuff as a coping mechanism, and it's 100% an unhealthy one as well at this point, because it's putting IMP in a bad spot financial wise.

But for a quick list of what Blitz has purchased since Apology Tour:

300 taxidermy owls.

However many horse plates there are in this box.

The ghostfucker ghostsucker device, costing a couple thousand.

The reason why I call all of this an unhealthy coping mechanism at this point is because Blitz straight up cannot afford to keep making purchases like these anymore, because there's multiple letters saying things like 'Final Notice', Blitz is now draining their pensions to buy things, IMP could be at risk of defaulting if Moxxie is to be believed at his word, and Millie hasn't been paid in a month.

Sex:

Just a brief one here as there's not really much for me to comment on regarding this, but ghostfuckers told us that one of the things Blitz does to cope when he feels unwanted/unloved, is look for sex or just consume sexual media.

And well, that's making me think back to his relationship with Stolas a little. Do you think that Blitz could've been using his nights with Stolas as a way to help himself cope a little? Because at minimum, Stolas unintentionally fed into this coping mechanism of Blitz's.

Blitz - The Past.

Drugs:

In Truth Seekers, Blitz admits to doing a fuck ton of tranquilizers in college, although this is never expanded upon, so this could potentially have been a coping mechanism for Blitz at one point in his life but we can't be sure of that.

Alcohol:

Blitz in the past has had quite the history of alcohol usage, and I mainly say this because of a few lines of dialogue in s1 e8, those being "He-hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where you been? You here for the party?" and "Come in and show us all up again.", with both of these lines implying that Blitz used to be a regular at Beelzebub's parties, and that Blitz probably drank quite heavily at those parties as well, based off the 'show us all up again' line. Which could also potentially point us to Blitz using the parties and it's alcohol as a coping mechanism, but again, while it is very plausible, I cannot fully confirm this at this time.

Also, something else I want to mention is that addiction tends to run in the family, as we know, Cash was a likely alcoholic, considering we see him drink a bottle in some other tent before Stolas' butler walks in, and there's the line "Remember how you used to distract my dad so I could steal his booze?".

Barbie Wire used to be addicted to this drug named 'H-8' at some point, and also went to rehab over it at some point as well.

And it's also worth mentioning that Verosika is also an alcoholic, who also went to rehab over it, but eventually got let out because of her celebrity status or something like that.

Stolas.

Before I get started with this one I encourage you to read this post I made on this subject before, which goes into quite a lot of detail regarding it all.

The likely abuse of his happy pills:

The start of s2 e1 firmly establishes that Stolas' dosage of these pills are two pills.

But when we skip to when Stolas wakes up later in the episode, we see that Stolas has just haphazardly got the pills out of the bottle and he grabs three of the pills, which points to Stolas either intentionally taking more than the dosage he should be taking, or that he just grabs a random amount of the happy pills sometimes. Both of which could point to that Stolas is abusing the happy pills, and potentially that it's one of his coping mechanisms as well.

Plus, there's the fact that Stolas runs out of the happy pills in s2 e8, which again, could also potentially suggest that Stolas is abusing the happy pills as a coping mechanism, but at the same time he could've just forgotten to get a refill so.

Alcohol:

We know Stolas uses alcohol quite heavily to cope with difficult situations, and I'm pretty sure that Stolas is also an alcoholic, but we've seen three examples of Stolas relying on alcohol throughout the show so far:

Chugging a bottle of that strong shit at Stella's party,

Quite possibly getting blackout drunk at home after the mess that was Ozzie's, on the exact same strong shit,

and Stolas starts to chug yet another bottle of alcohol, very shortly after he got pressured to singing about Blitz, and that Blitz is right here at the party, talking with him, when Stolas' emotions are still very raw for Stolas.

Plus, I'm pretty sure that Bryce said something along the lines of this at a panel once, that Stolas does indeed have a problem with alcohol. (If someone has the exact quote please let me know.)

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Venom

Miguel O'Hara x addicted gn reader

Warnings: Blowjob (Miguel reviving), rough, withdrawal symptoms. Drug use (venom), no beta we die like men. "Pretty" used once but not in a gendered way.

2250 words

It was an accident; becoming addicted to him was never part of either of your plans, but yet, here you were. Sitting patiently on a plush chair, looking up at him like he was your whole world. At This point he might as well be, considering his venom was the only thing keeping you going.

Funny to think it was an accident that got you both into this situation, but we should probably start at the beginning.

You were your world's spider. Strong, smart, and fiercely impulsive. Good at getting out of a bad situation because you were prone to getting into bad situations. Great qualities for a hero, but this time they really got you in trouble.

Miguel was an amazing hero. Strong, stoic, and a heart of gold, even if he didn't like showing it. He was also the only spider that doesn't have a spidey sense. Not that you knew that when you were silently approaching him from behind.

His back heaved, and his breathing was labored. Clutching his shoulder like a wounded animal, complete with claws half extended. You stopped when you were close enough to see the slight tremble in his whole body. Every muscle tensed and ready to spring at a moment's notice.

“You okay?” Your voice was soft as you reached a hand out to check on him. The next thing you saw was a flash of red eyes and white fangs so fast you didn't even have time to react. He was too fast for you to even feel the pain of his fangs sinking into your shoulder. One of his hands tightly gripped your outstretched wrist while his other hand clutched the nape of your neck. From an outside perspective one could mistake the pose for a tango.

A cool tingling sensation spreads through your veins almost instantly, completely paralyzing you. Yet still even in such a vulnerable position your spidey sense never rang. Slowly his eyes faded from that unnatural glowing red to his normal rich brown. He released you the moment he realized what he had done.

“Lo siento mucho, no fue mi intención-” Panicked and rambling through what you assume is an apology you simply stood there; paralyzed and helpless. His eyes were locked on to where your neck meets your shoulder, never looking away from his crime, and never looking you in the eye.

You should have been scared. Worried or intimidated would have also been appropriate, but all you felt… was excitement.

The venom felt like pure euphoria under your skin. The bite felt hot but each heartbeat sent a cool rush of endorphins deeper into your body. Filling every vein, every muscle, just everything with that beautiful menthol chill. There were no thoughts because it felt like someone stuffed your head with cotton. Was this what his villains felt? This was far too good for them. You silently slipped into your own thoughts; becoming completely oblivious to anything but your own heartbeat.

By the time you regained consciousness and control of your body you had been left in a secluded area of the spider society. A to-go container was left on a stool with a water bottle. This was too little to be a bribe, maybe an apology? Slowly your head started to clear. You wish it hadn't. As the feelings of the venom had worn off, and the physical effects were starting to fade you were left feeling like hot garbage. This just left you alone with a throbbing pain in your shoulder and a strange sense of emptiness.

You hissed in pain when you absentmindedly touched the bite. “Ow! …” Even now your movements were sluggish. Like a marinette fighting against its strings. It's dangerous for a spider to be slow, that makes them easy to squish. Dangerous; that was definitely the look in his eyes. It was stupid to want to see them again, but yet…

You needed to talk to him.

He's been avoiding you. It's been almost two weeks and every time you caught sight of him he seemingly vanished into thin air. The only problem with trying to track another spider is that you are all notoriously slippery.

“Miguel.” He continues to walk away from you, never even sparing you a glance. “Miguel!” You yelled, gaining glances from the other spiders in the hallway, and finally making him stop. “We need to talk.”

His head dipped slightly as he grumbled out a “Fine.” before continuing forward. His pace was swift, not even caring if you kept up with him, and he only stopped when the two of you were in a secluded room. Free from any prying eyes he finally turned to face you, but it felt more like he was looking through you. “Talk.”

His voice was colder than his venom. Low and dark, but you couldn't feel any real malice behind it. “I need a favor…”

His eyes cast over you, looking for any sign of what you were about to ask. He looked almost like he was on edge. Understandable considering how much he does to keep the multiverse intact.

After a deep breath you finally spoke again. “I… I need another hit. I can't even shoot a web straight! God, if Hobie wasn't there on my last mission I would be a pavement pancake right now!” Your hands started shaking. No, your whole body started trembling. Withdrawal had been slowly eating away at you since the incident.

His brown eyes narrowed as he watched you struggle to keep yourself together, slowly working yourself up to a near breakdown. “I never meant to bite you. I'm sorry, but I won't do it again.”

“But-”

“That's final!” He snapped at you with a slight snarl. He let out a sigh when he saw the despair fall on your face. “I can find something else to help you. I'll make something if I have to, but my venom is too dangerous for even one bite.” You nodded slowly, not wanting to anger him again. With that he walked past you and out the door. “I'll call you when I get something.”

…But it didn't work.

Trial after trial, and batch after batch, but nothing helped. The withdrawal symptoms only got worse. Until finally you were bedridden with a fever and sweating bullets, completely unable to move without wanting to throw up.

Miguel entered your medical room. A range of emotions; hurt, disbelief, anger, and hopelessness, all flashed across your face in an instant before you pleaded. All he did was put his hand up and you stopped. He looked…hurt, but finally he gave in. You needed this, and he was the only one who could help you.

It was finally time for him to take responsibility.

He pulled up a chair next to your bed. “Give me your arm.” His voice was low and hesitant, and you eagerly complied. After a moment of contemplation he opened his mouth wide enough for you to glimpse those glorious fangs before they sank into your forearm.

Your eyes all but rolled back in your head as that long awaited rush of euphoria flooded your veins. “Nnnmm~” it was only a moment before he pulled himself away, but it was enough.

“...When I first bit you I had just taken a dose of my spider stimulant. Think of it like a steroid, but radioactive. This should be less potent than that.” You half listened to his explanation, not really caring what he said but loving the sound of his voice. It's not like you could respond because of the paralytic effect so he continues “I will take responsibility for this. I'll help you wean off of it.” You moved your eyes slightly towards him as he stood up. “Call me when you can.” And again he left you alone; paralyzed, but delighted.

After about a week your symptoms returned. Shaky hands and difficulty focusing being the first red flags prompting you to seek him out. Without question he followed through with his promise to help you. Every time he sunk his teeth into you felt just as good as the last.

This quickly became routine. Every week, weather your symptoms returned yet or not, the two of you would meet like this. Alone together, hidden away from curious spiders. The rush you got never faded but the physical effects lessened gradually. You could move a little now, maybe even give single word responses if he asked.

His attitude also changed from a broken melancholy to something more enticed but conflicted. It soon became apparent that both of you were enjoying this, yet neither of you spoke of the palpable change in expression. That was, until you took that first step farther.

Now what used to be more akin to a medical procedure was more like a carnal rendezvous. It became rare to see his contemplation now, and the weekly sessions left no time for your withdrawal to return.

The sessions definitely helped with the physical withdrawal, but your desire only grew. Desire for his venom; desire for him. No, desire wasn't the right word. This was stronger.

Need

Slowly you reached out to his waist; muscles fighting every inch against the venom induced atrophy. Suddenly but gently he grabs your wrist before you can reach him. You shakily lift your chin enough to see him; his nostrils slightly flaring as he takes deep breath, his eyes completely locked on to yours, and his lips pursed together in a flat line.

Your mouth opened and closed fruitlessly, like a fish gasping desperately for water. Miguel felt a little pity but he couldn't ignore the butterflies in his stomach as you looked up at him hungrily. His own hunger only grew as the next words barely fell from your mouth.

“Please?”

“I'm not going to take advantage of your situation.” His heart squeezed as he denied your advances. His heart was beating rapidly, and it's been getting harder for him to control himself during these sessions. He could feel his will crumble as you looked up at him with begging puppy dog eyes. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “...but just this once I'll make an exception.” He released your wrist, and as he opened his eyes his stomach fluttered as the delight spread across your face.

Your movements were stiff and choppy as you staggered to kneel before him. His chest swelled with pride as you looked up at him with that eager doe eyed expression. Each movement was a fight against the venom that made you feel alive, and you were fighting for him.

“Still…hard…to…move…” Your words came slowly, and he patiently waited for each one; his red brown eyes never leaving your lips.

“Would you like some help?” His voice came out like a choked purr. Every passing moment you could see how excited he was getting. His now crimson eyes were a dead giveaway; as was the growing bulge in his suit.

You tried your best to nod; head barely moving an inch up and down, but the message was clear. Gently he cupped your face, thumb running across your bottom lip before sliding back towards your jaw line.

His suit receded to reveal his beautiful fat cock. He helped you open your mouth wide and pulled out your tongue. Once satisfied with your position his hand slid into your hair. His claws barely scraping your scalp sending a shiver rippling through you.

He took his sweet time placing his cock on your tongue. He wanted to give you a moment to back out before you lost the use of your words as well as your body. He let out a shaky sigh as he slid all the way into your throat. Your muscles were too relaxed to trigger any gag reflex and he had no issue going as deep as he pleased.

Slow movement shortly turned into a rough face fucking. His clawed hands roughly gripped your hair for leverage as he buried his bush into your nose with each thrust. It was heavenly.

His grunts were just as delicious as his cock as he picked up the pace once more. Any pathetic little noises you tried to make only gave his cock more pleasure. Your eyes rolled back as your head went fuzzy. The slight lack of oxygen and the effects of the venom making every sensation that much more potent and delightful.

“Merda-” His hips stuttered, and with a pained grunt he pulled himself away from your hot wet mouth. His cock twitched twice before erupting thick ropes of cum across your face. He had to take a few deep breaths until he was able to get control of himself again.

You looked like a dream. Kneeling pretty at his feet covered in his cum. You were all but ensnared in his web, and he loved it.

“When you're able to move more I may let you drink it.” He used his thumb to swipe some of his cum over your tongue so you can have a taste. “Right now I can't risk you choking because of the paralysis.” The taste was exquisite. It only made the euphoria of his venom still in your system that much stronger. If that's the boost a taste could do you were already drooling at the thought of a full dose.

Miguel was very easy to get addicted to.

Translation

Lo siento mucho, no fue mi intención: I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to

Merda: shit