#I am begging you to not take this out of context

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Late to the party to reblog as always, but GOD, HAPPY I HAD THE TIME TO INDULGE IN THIS MASTERPIECE. This might be one of my new favourites from your Zae!! (even if I say so every time LMAO)

You know how downbad I am for solo Arthur. For utterly frustrated Arthur, taking matters into his own hands. Oh God this was perfect. As aways, I'm caught right from the beggining:

Channeling the self-control of a brigade of soldiers, Arthur willed his unruly cock flaccid as he left the post office.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is how you open up a perfect fic 😂😂. Seriously, though, I loved how you gave some context about their relationship in a light way, not too much info dumping, but just enough to understand Arthur's point of view. Looooved this passage

Every time he passed by the quiet homestead, he found himself lightly pulling on Boadicea’s reins and scoping out something to fix. Your ways of showing gratitude, like a hug or kiss on the cheek, turned his neck to shades of crimson, yet he’d still come knocking again some time later. On his last visit, you were dragging him to your room by cotton suspenders, mouth attached to his before he could get a word in. An innocent lamb you were not—he was sure of it now in a half-daze, hypnotized by your breasts as you bounced on top of him. Matter of fact, you must’ve been a witch or a succubus; he’d never felt so used, drained, and perfectly satisfied.

I was wondering if I could use the word succubus a few days ago for my own writing, and I'm very grateful you showed me that yes indeed!! I love how he's all yearning here, not doing anything explicitly to win her over but just coming back every time. I could totally picture him do that. And oh yes, yes, yes, he deserves to be drained like that 😏😏

And of course, the heart of the matter is absolutely brilliant and delightfully written.

Fuck, he wanted to rip that photographer’s head clean off his shoulders for capturing you like that, but goddamn, he wanted to shake the man’s hand too. This slip of paper was a slice of heaven on Earth.

I laughed sm at this!!! I can totally imagine him getting all jealous the photographer saw her nude but being so grateful at the same time, confused boy 😂. Also please, just the fact tha you managed to transcribe sexting and sending nudes to fcking 1899 is MASTERFUL Zae!! I'm in awe as always!!

I had a dream about you. Do you ever dream about me?   The bulge in his pants begged for attention, and he appeased it, palming himself idly while his eyes stayed trained on the photograph. He’s too old and weathered for this—pining over some girl and touching himself like he’d gotten a second wind of puberty. 

I love how you start it slow. Two simple sentences, and he's gone. And I'm too, to be honest 😤

His cock sprung free, twitching and yearning. Flicking his eyes to your photo once more, his right hand moved on its own, kneading his leaking tip. He peeked over the edge of the paper, watching precum drizzle down his shaft, imagining it was you leaking around him. 

*sighs*. Click. Bzzzzzz (seriously this is a fucking treat to read Zae. Thank you for writing and sharing your magic with us mortals.)

Also, the part when he wishes for more photos; sooo hot of course (loved how he would even provided money for it eheh) but also, the need to have a proper one? What a perfect way to show his need for actual love and affection on top of lust. This is an incredible "show don't tell", I'm on my knees rn.

Jesus all the parts about Arthur being eager in her dream, I was MELTING Zae. The way you wrote him reacting to specific sentences and parts is just so perfect. I'm repeating myself, but it was just incredible to read and so vivid and interactive, even if we're still just readers. I don't know why and how but I felt so involved!

I get the feeling that you do a lot of taking care of other folks and don’t get that in return. Am I right? I’d take care of you, Arthur. I’d keep your belly full and drain your balls all in a night. They tightened at the thought, and his hips were a piston now, going up and down on their own accord.

See? Stuff like this. It's absolutely wonderful. I was SO turned on I should be ashamed!!! And oh, that part with the necklace 😏🔥 Very very clever once more. And so erotic! You bet your ass he's an excited mess. What a tease!!

And oh, the climax. His climax. Our climaxes. This had the effect intended, dear, I've been way too much impacted by it.

Don’t think me too crass, but do you touch yourself to my letters like I touch myself to yours? Yours are more well-mannered than mine. But still, I wonder, is your fist wrapped around your cock? “Yes, darlin.”  Goddamnit, he was talking to himself now, arm cramping as he pumped feverishly at his engorged dick, his orgasm waiting to explode behind his eyes. Do you imagine it’s me instead? I wish it was me. I wish I was on top of you again, milking you for everything you’ve got. Would you give it to me this time, Arthur? Would you spill inside of me? And spill he did, teeth gritted and grunting, as hot ropes of lust spurted out over his hand. Once again, he’d made a mess of himself on account of you.

This was too good Zae. I won't recover from this one until a long time 😮‍💨I was in the same state as him honestly, this wrecked me 😂

And the last line, so light and fluffy. Our dear baby, always longing and yearning. Perfectly wrapped!

What can I say more? One of my favorite fantasies to read, written by one of my favorite authors?? What more could I've asked for? Thank you so much for this incredible piece Zae!!!

Causerie

Summary: You send Arthur a letter. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word Count: 2,185 Tags: Male Masturbation, solo handjob, mentions of oral and unprotected p in v, dirty talk, long distance relationship, high honor Warnings: 18+ MDNI

an: So this came out of nowhere LMAO It's a bit different from what I'm used to, but I ran with it. The mentioned photo was heavily inspired by @sir-walton-goggins's under-the-cut sketch of their OC, Kris Blake. 😍😍😍 I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

Causerie: an informal conversation

Channeling the self-control of a brigade of soldiers, Arthur willed his unruly cock flaccid as he left the post office. An envelope addressed to Tacitus Kilgore in familiar dainty cursive teased him from inside his satchel. The nagging twinge in his gut could only be satiated by his fist wrapped tight around himself in the solitude of his tent. 

He didn’t know how he’d make it through the rest of the day without losing his sanity. Once you’d unknowingly planted the seeds, his thoughts of you grew wild and untamed like the weeds at your feet. He’d never seen something so ridiculous—a woman in her day dress, the lacy hem stained with dirt, trying to repair a loose fence post on her own.

“No man ’round here?” he had asked, holding his hand out for the hammer.

“There is now.”

You beamed, your smile stunning him like a camera flash. Unbeknownst to him, that grin was a brand, marking him as yours for a long time to come. 

Every time he passed by the quiet homestead, he found himself lightly pulling on Boadicea’s reins and scoping out something to fix. Your ways of showing gratitude, like a hug or kiss on the cheek, turned his neck to shades of crimson, yet he’d still come knocking again some time later. On his last visit, you were dragging him to your room by cotton suspenders, mouth attached to his before he could get a word in.

An innocent lamb you were not—he was sure of it now in a half-daze, hypnotized by your breasts as you bounced on top of him. Matter of fact, you must’ve been a witch or a succubus; he’d never felt so used, drained, and perfectly satisfied.

And guilty, too. He couldn’t even look at you as he confessed to his life of criminality, finally admitting what he’d come to tell you in the first place. After this job, he was leaving for good.

To his surprise, you didn’t put up a fight—just wished him well—and dammit, that made him want you even more. You didn’t follow him outside—only watched from under the blanket as he said his last goodbye and promise.

“I’ll write t’you.”

Receiving your letters kept his heart ticking and dick aching. What started as a pile of polite notes quickly transformed into a library of erotica. His hands trembled in anticipation as he opened the latest letter. 

Dear Arthur, 

Are you still alive? I hope you haven’t gone and gotten yourself killed. I’m sorry if I kept you waiting. A new photographer opened up in town, and I stopped by the studio one evening just before he closed. I may have batted my lashes and stood a little too close when I asked for his help. A special photo of me would be the perfect gift for my dear husband, who was about to be shipped away to war in the Philippines. You should’ve seen how red he got when I dropped my blouse. I tried to sit pretty. Did it work?

A photo? Arthur checked the discarded envelope, searching for the supposed gift. A small photo was still tucked away in the envelope. He took it out and held it up to the lantern to get a good look.

Christ.

You were directly in the center of the camera with a lazy smile on your face. Pearls adorned your neck, and velvet cloth draped over your shoulders, just barely covering those twin humps on your chest. Fuck, he wanted to rip that photographer’s head clean off his shoulders for capturing you like that, but goddamn, he wanted to shake the man’s hand too. This slip of paper was a slice of heaven on Earth.

And for what he was about to do with it, he was going straight to hell. Setting the letter aside, the gunslinger undressed down to his union suit with the ardor of his twenty-year-old self. As he settled back onto the cot, he locked on to your sultry eyes and sighed contently.

I had a dream about you. Do you ever dream about me?  

The bulge in his pants begged for attention, and he appeased it, palming himself idly while his eyes stayed trained on the photograph. He’s too old and weathered for this—pining over some girl and touching himself like he’d gotten a second wind of puberty. 

But he couldn’t help it. Even after deafening gun fights and vicious animal attacks, he’d find a letter to re-read, and now he had this picture to accompany his fantasies. His gaze shifted from the photo back to your words on the page. 

We were in this beautiful room in a palace or someplace like that, swimming under blankets. It was far from my humble bed, but it felt like paradise. 

If only you knew, that little bed was his paradise.

Dream you tasted like whiskey and ash and smelled like leather and gunpowder. I don’t think it was too far off from the real thing. We weren’t wearing any clothes, of course, and your head was tucked between my thighs. 

Breath shaking, his hips shifted upward, the memory of your thighs on either side of him overwhelming his senses. Arthur sucked in his bottom lip and didn’t waste any more time undoing the bottom two buttons of his union suit. His cock sprung free, twitching and yearning. Flicking his eyes to your photo once more, his right hand moved on its own, kneading his leaking tip. He peeked over the edge of the paper, watching precum drizzle down his shaft, imagining it was you leaking around him. 

Oh, Arthur, I could feel your lips on every part of me at once, kissing up my stomach, bosom, arms, thighs, legs, all over. But when you found my lips again, I don’t know how my pounding heart didn’t suck me out of the dream. Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are or how heavenly your hands feel? And your back, Mister Morgan, is like a brick wall. How I wish I could’ve dug my nails into it.

Arthur’s fisted pace quickened as he stifled a groan, trying his very best to keep the sounds of his sin quiet. He urged himself downward into the cot, hoping the friction could mimic the sting of your nails dragging down his spine, but it was no use. Tightening his grip in frustration, he turned his attention back to the photograph of you. He wanted to study your hands, to imprint them in his mind’s eye so he could imagine them scratching his back and pleasuring his cock.

But the photo was too close up, only your face and a peak of your breasts captured at that moment in time. Would he be too brazen to ask for another? To request a pose? Hell—he’d stuff the money in an envelope with a list of the depraved positions he’d like to see you in. Your hands on your bust, legs spread open, on all fours, one with your pretty fingers in your mouth, and a full body shot with just the pearls. Dammit—he’d kill for it. 

But then, at the very end of the list, he’d ask for a respectable one. One of you with your hair pinned up under a fancy hat, dressed in your finest, wearing a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet with your hands folded politely over your lap. One that was sweet and proper. One that he could tuck in his journal, frame, or pin up on the wagon. One that he could take out in broad daylight and pretend, just for a moment, that he really was that war vet admiring a photo of his loving spouse.

His hips moved involuntarily again, jutting up into his fist—the placeholder for the pussy of the woman he’d one day make his wife.

I didn’t plan to get you in bed that night, as unbelievable as that may sound. You were just so damn handsome and so so kind. I couldn’t help it. I needed to know how you’d feel inside me. I hope you don’t see me as just some Jezebel.

“No,” he gasped out. Wet sounds of his strokes accompanied his declaration.

I really did and still do have feelings for you, Arthur. It’s quite scary, actually. Maybe that’s why my dreams about you are so vivid? I realized just how much I cared that night, looking down into your eyes. I don’t take you as the type of man to just give yourself away on a normal day like that, so I hope you feel the same way as me. Did I ever say thank you? Thank you for being such a giver. I have a tendency to take, take, take when I’m on top, but you got payback in my dream. You had me pinned under all of your weight, damn near suffocating me. It was the good type, though. When you pushed into me, I forgot all about it. I never took you for an eager man either, but you were drilling me into those blankets with the fervor of a threshing machine. Are you an eager man, Mister Morgan?

He answered in shallow pants, twisting his fist around his length and rocking his hips. 

I have a curse of waking up right when I’m on the edge, so as you can imagine, I had a wet problem to take care of. My fingers just don’t quite do it like you. I wish we could’ve had more time together. I get the feeling that you do a lot of taking care of other folks and don’t get that in return. Am I right? I’d take care of you, Arthur. I’d keep your belly full and drain your balls all in a night.

They tightened at the thought, and his hips were a piston now, going up and down on their own accord.

I know you’d never ask because you’re too nice, but I’d get on my knees for you and take care of you in that way. I’m sad we never got to try it, that I never got to taste you. The thought gave me the silliest idea. Are you looking at my picture? Imagine that pearl necklace is your spend on my chest.

Jesus—the perverted imagery hit him like a train. He looked at the pretty pearls atop your chest. Goddamn, minx. 

Don’t think me too crass, but do you touch yourself to my letters like I touch myself to yours? Yours are more well-mannered than mine. But still, I wonder, is your fist wrapped around your cock?

“Yes, darlin.” 

Goddamnit, he was talking to himself now, arm cramping as he pumped feverishly at his engorged dick, his orgasm waiting to explode behind his eyes.

Do you imagine it’s me instead? I wish it was me. I wish I was on top of you again, milking you for everything you’ve got. Would you give it to me this time, Arthur? Would you spill inside of me?

And spill he did, teeth gritted and grunting, as hot ropes of lust spurted out over his hand. Once again, he’d made a mess of himself on account of you.

Shame crept in as he floated back to reality and stared up at the canvas of his tent. He brought the letter back to his face to read the last paragraph. The least he should do was finish it—dirty old bastard. But when he landed on your words and processed them, he was left with a numb, longing ache in his chest.

If we were together, I’d help clean you up, then maybe we could spend the rest of the night all tangled up in each other. I’m sorry I’m not there to touch you for real, but I hope these letters bring a little light to that hard, lonely life of yours. If I can make you feel good, even from far away, that’s enough for me. I miss you. Any chance you could come see me soon? 

Yours.

Arthur sighed and folded your letter back up neatly, tucking it away in his now hollowed-out copy of Rambles Through Woods and Plains. Though your photo and letter were out of sight, his mind refused to wander from the subject of you.

An assortment of motion pictures flickered in his memory: the way your head tipped in laughter at his dry sarcasm, how you so graciously welcomed him to that sitdown meal, the way you worried about him just as much as he worried about you, and how your words, even from afar, brought him unmeasurable comfort. Making it back across the Upper Montana could be a brutal fight, but he’d outrun the law and take a few bullets if he had to. He’d bare it all to bring you back with him. 

As he relaxed into the cot, another thought drifted by, small and almost weightless like a dandelion seed in the wind: maybe he wouldn’t have to bring you back at all. Perhaps he could stay right there with you.

[friend-shaped-but]

Bheem: Is something burning? Draupadi: Just my love for you!! :) Bheem: Panchali, the milk burnt!!

[ravenpureforever]

On one hand, Young Justice is kind of neglected by the actual superheroes that should be looking out for them in a lot of crucial ways and very much failed by the adults around them

But on the other hand Red Tornado straight up hosts a parent-teacher conference where their respective legal guardians all show up, barring Batman who’s in traffic so Nightwing fills in instead because Robin’s dad does not know he’s a vigilante which is objectively hilarious

[dykedvonte]

Reading MW takes on Twitter is like reading a summary of the Bible from someone who only watched like a Family Guy family special about it

[raazberry]

how do i get people to play the entire hello charlotte series. i am losing my mind here

[loverboybrightsideghost]

if superman 2025 isn't a good movie i will recover i'll be fine i survived not liking maws that much but BY GOD will i be disappointed for the rest of my life until i die

[icharchivist]

Go off queen

It's your blog and you should be able to talk about whatever you want after all

aww thank you 🥺 i appreciate it <33

i do really not like spreading negativity esp when it's on a topic i have strong feelings about, and let's say the D.A fandom especially tends to be. extreme about the way it reacts to people disagreeing with them.

And look. I'm not immune to it because sometimes i get caught up by the genuinely rancid vibe in the fandom as well, and i think those games are designed for us to have strong feelings to start with.

but it also means i don't want to go too deep into controversial thoughts because i genuinely don't want to get to a point where i'll see someone screenshot my posts to dunk on it and say i'm the reason media literacy is dead and why the fandom is so toxic (citing things i've actually seen on said blog, for instance though not directed at me but at takes i've seen taken out of context. except i knew the context so knew this was a bad faith argument.).

Like can't even dislike shits in peace in here.

[relicsongmel]

ABYSSAL RUINS MENTIONED???????

PULL OUT THE CONSPIRACY BOARD MEL'S ABOUT TO GO FUCKING HAYWIRE

[lenalvthor]

hey i have a fucking bone to pick with sapphic fandoms

like, i get it okay. i've been on tumblr since 2011, i was in the trenches during the bury your gays nightmare, i grew up on buffy, i watched the 100, i've been through the furious and devastating queerbaits, and i've watched helplessly as the boom of proper progress with sapphic rep has burned and disappeared with the faults of the industry as it is rn and the resurgence of bury your gays in the form of tv cancellations

i even did a fucking guest lecture for a film & tv university course a couple years ago on all of this

we joke about the fact that queer (specifically sapphic) fans flock to any show with the barest hint of rep in it because we're so starved for it, and we talk about the fact that if nothing else, that proves that there's a market and an audience and it usually creates a huge wave of viewership and attention for the show

but i need to fucking point out: acting as though a show exists for the sole purpose of the sapphic relationship you've started watching it for is fucking detrimental to how you'll perceive the show, how it'll get talked about in fandom spaces and then beyond that (bc the line between fandom spaces and wider online discussion of media is a lot thinner than it was ten years ago) and isn't actually going to do any good for sapphic rep! like, at all! because guess what! unless you're watching a show where the entire storyline revolves around romance, this couple you're watching for ISN'T going to be the centre of the story! it's a part of it! and there's such a weird fucking entitled toxicity to how fans act around brilliant storytelling and worldbuilding and writing and characters throwing tantrums about not getting more screentime for the relationship they like because they don't actually care about any other part of the story. and the thing about people who watch something solely for a ship rather than the wider story it exists in, is that a lot of the time, you'll fundamentally misinterpret the characters and their dynamic because you're not taking any of the wider context of the world and story into account at all.

and yes, of course i'm talking about agatha all along in the immediacy. because we knew a long, long time ago that billy maximoff was gonna be an integral part of this story, long before we knew anything about what the vibe of this show was gonna be, long before anyone even had the tiniest whisper of rio's existence. the same way wandavision was monica rambeau's origin story even though the show was wanda's, we suspected that agatha all along would be billy's/wiccan's origin story even if the show focused on agatha. and you know fucking what. that's good fucking storytelling. this show is smart, it's funny, it's curious, it's campy, it's queer, and it's ensemble. that's always been the point. agatha and rio were a delightfully unexpected part of it that added such delicious tension and phenomenal sapphic rep, but you know what else! the point of that dynamic is to flesh out agatha's character! this show isn't about agatha and rio! it's about agatha and billy, who they are, how their pasts and their magic are connected, their traumas and their power and how the road shapes their futures! rio is a part of exploring agatha's past, and it's phenomenal, but i am so fucking bewildered by the ridiculousness of people's reactions to billy now having a bigger part in the story and there being less focus on agatha and rio. you do know that you write scenes and characters and stories in a way that makes sense right? that because of the nature of this show, even if we don't get more than a handful agatha and rio scenes for the rest of the episodes, they're both still sapphic characters, this is still wonderful sapphic rep, and this show is still very, very queer?

like, it's obviously not fair that we have to beg for scraps to have queer shows to watch. but that doesn't mean that any of us get to do such a fucking disservice to the people who make amazing shows and fight to put sapphic rep in them within the contexts of the stories they're telling by whining that it's not enough. what we're getting with agatha all along, what kathryn han and aubrey plaza and jac schaeffer have said with such grace and nuance and intrigue and depth about agatha and rio's relationship, is so fucking rare! and it's nestled within a story that's got so much other intricate storytelling that makes agatha and rio richer characters when you actually pay some fucking attention and care about who they are outside of their sexual tension!

and i'm saying this because this is an issue i see with So many other shows, where the worth of a show gets boiled down to fandoms wanting content of their ship and nothing else and then poisoning the conversation and reception around what else it is that show is doing with its story. idk get some fucking media literacy, grow up and respect artists and creatives.

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Hawks Headcanons

A/N: I am currently obsessed with Hawks (if you couldn't tell) and writing for him is fun. I made these headcanons while procrastinating on my midterm paper a few days ago-

Warnings: Some NSFW content; MDNI. Some angst too

Starting things off with an angsty bang, Hawks has a bad habit of plucking his feathers when he is stressed out. It’s never too often and it’s never to a critical extent, but it does occur. Birds often do this as a form of coping with negative feelings, so perhaps he does this after a brutal mission. 

Like many other people, I firmly believe that Keigo has a thing for shiny or interesting looking objects. Again, it’s not to an obsessive extent, but he does have a good eye for pretty trinkets. Especially ones he thinks will look good on you. 

I don’t think Hawks is a good cook. There, I said it. This man barely has time for himself, do you really think he has time to devote to cooking? Do you really think that the Commission taught him to cook? Fuck no. He sticks to quick take out purely out of necessity. 

They say that the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and this is absolutely true with Keigo. He would love the little lunches and dinners you make for him while he is at work! He gobbles it up like a turkey. He swears that your food is the best thing he has ever had; he literally moans when the aroma hits his nostrils. 

I forget which fic I read this from (I will link if I find it), but I adore the headcanon of Hawk’s taking rut suppressant pills. I just think it makes so much sense since it aligns with his work-centric life and his lack of a wife (we aren’t talking about when you are married to him, obviously). They are probably similar to birth control pills where they stop the rut from happening 5% of the time. 

Even without his rut happening, Keigo still has a huge breeding kink. Can you blame him though? He just thinks that you'll look gorgeous with his cum leaking out of your pretty pussy. 

*whispers* he also has the equipment to match

He has definitely accidentally run into a window from imagining you with a cute lil baby bump. 

He can get a little whiny and needy about wanting to devour your pussy. He will straight up beg you on his hands and knees. Please say yes to him. 

The songs Angel with a Shotgun and Mr Blue Sky fit him so well. Fight me on this. 

Also the song Hey Look Ma, I made it

I just imagine happy birb listening to Mr. Blue Sky after meeting you.

Intentional or not, his wings flap and rustle during sex. 

On the topic of his wings, I don’t think they are as sensitive as we all wish they were. It’s not like he’s gonna start moaning and whimpering when random fans touch his wings (he canonical doesn’t) HOWEVER, it does feel nice when you massage and gently comb your fingertips through them. I’m thinking that it’s similar to hair?? Or maybe his wings are ticklish?? But only in the right context?? 

You are the only person he really trusts to take care of his wings

Keigo loves holding you in his arms and taking you on night flights. The stars always seem brighter when they are reflected in your eyes (at least, Keigo thinks so…). You even have your own set of aviator goggles to wear during these dates.

One of his favorite things is when he DOESN’T have morning patrol and can snuggle you until at least 10 in the morning. Although it may be longer because his sleep debt is so huge. There is just something so satisfying and peaceful with having you close enough to hear your heartbeat. 

His biggest dream is being able to have a family with you in a quaint little house. His life, your life…they aren’t constantly in danger and he can sleep in with you, make you breakfast (it’s only a little burnt), wrap his wings around you. 

Keigo is extremely possessive of, not only you, but the life you created together. He is very sensitive towards things that threaten the small slice of normalcy he has, eliciting a sense of hypervigilance and territorialism. 

His mental state isn’t the best from the culmination of trauma he experiences, leading him to commit psychic cannibalism on himself. He represses all of these negative feelings in order to perform to the best of his ability and be the good lap dog for the Hero Commission. 

Needs therapy.

It’s established that he has some form of echolocation through his feathers. So…hear me out…just to make sure you are safe 24/7, Keigo gives you one of his smaller feathers. I’m not going to rant because I might make this into a small oneshot/drabble later

[icepip]

something thats been on the brain lately: yuji having a major crush on gojo’s wife. i just know he’s into milfs. gojo shows him pictures of his family on his phone but ‘accidentally’ swipes too far and shows him a nude of his wife and yuji definitely jerks off to it later that night.

omg anon this idea is soooo good and yummy im actually obsessed with it.. tried writing a little something for it!! im not sure how happy i am with it but i hope you enjoy it <3

for context, i was kinda imagining yuji after graduating, still working with gojo as a sorcerer. so they're technically "equals" but yuji still sees gojo as a teacher/authority figure !

tags: 18+/mdni. masturbation. oral (f rec.). ~600 words. not proofread (sorry for the probably mixed up tenses).

“oops, sorry, yuji! just pretend you didn't see that.”

the words play on repeat, circling around in his head as he tries desperately to pay attention to the mission brief. it's nearly impossible to do so, every blink supplying him with the image of you.

yuji always thought you were beautiful, but this was something entirely different. you were heavenly. gorgeous and irresistible as gojo swiped one picture too far, showing his former student photos from his vacation. going from the breathtaking view from the balcony of the house he was staying at, to a picture of you on the bed. thighs spread open and every inch of your skin on display.

it's a sight yuji will never forget. a debauched glimpse of a fantasy of his own.

what he would do to be able to get you underneath him, to have his hands on your curves, to be the one bringing you pleasure. would you be sweet to him like you are now? always so polite and kind when yuji gets the chance to speak to you. you would compliment him when he was still a student, his cheeks beginning to burn when you said he could surpass gojo one day. would you praise him like that again? tell him how good his mouth feels against your tits?

the scraping of chairs against the floor pulls him out of his head, realizing that everyone has been dismissed. he doesn't recall a single thing that was mentioned during the meeting, but he also doesn't care at the moment. the only thing on his mind is you.

yuji finds whatever excuse he can to leave, feigning a sickness to rush to his apartment. he waves off any concern, blaming his sudden fever on his lunch earlier. he doesn't look toward gojo as he exits.

the door closes behind yuji and he leans back against it, his eyes screwing shut as he finally allows himself to imagine.

the warmth of your skin as his lips trail down your body, the soft and pleased sighs you would make, the way your hands would squeeze at his shoulders as he makes his way lower and lower. your voice would be breathy as you beg him not to tease you, his mouth so close to where you need him, but not quite there.

yuji groans your name, his hand over his growing bulge, palming at it. he's already so worked up, though he supposes he's been like this since he saw the picture.

he could see how wet you were, your arousal catching the low light of the room and glistening. you were practically inviting yuji to fall between your plush thighs. he'd spend all day there if you let him — positive that he would never tire of eating you out. how could he, when you look so sweet and appetizing?

he'd pull away eventually, of course. his breathing heavy and mouth and chin covered with your juices, he would stop when you beg him to fuck you, when you whine that you can't take it anymore, that you need him.

yuji would take his time, lining up his cock at your entrance and pushing in slowly, watching your face as it screwed up in pleasure. every inch taking longer than the last until he was finally, finally, buried inside you.

he doesn't even get his dick out of his underwear before he's cumming, spilling inside his pants. but it's still not enough.

the rest of his day is spent imagining you in every way he can imagine, not stopping until he physically can't keep up anymore.

[zweiginator]

"Maybe you should respect yourself more"

EM

Gives law student pat energy - maybe you're having angry hate sex after weeks of just hating each other

Thinking about this in the context of oral arguments!!! being paired with patrick and it’s all just an assignment but you’re both competitive and argumentative and now your grade is on the line. and the whole year patrick has been getting on your nerves; he never listens to a word you say, he steals your ideas, he mansplains concepts that you show a clear understanding of.

So as your professor reads off the pairings you’re looking throughout the classroom, realizing that she only has your and patrick’s names left from the roster.

It’s a month of avoiding each other. you don’t want the other to know your arguments, your counter arguments, the cases you meticulously searched for and rifled through for any relevant rule of law.

“Will you give me a hint?” patrick sneaks up behind you at the library.

“we aren’t supposed to work together.” you’re blunt about it, tilting your laptop away from him.

“It’s nine pm. nobody is here.”

“It’s not about that.”

you start to type again. patrick sits down next to you.

“arguments are tomorrow. i think you’ve done enough. don’t you have to, like, memorize it now?”

“can you stop acting like i don’t know what im fucking doing?”

“can you stop being a bitch and tell me what you’re arguing so we can argue it, get a good grade and fucking move on with our lives?”

you slam your laptop shut. “don’t fucking talk to me like that.”

and as you move to shove him away from you, he grabs your wrist.

“don’t fucking shove me.” he pauses before letting go of you. “nobody is here. we have to be at the courthouse at 8:30 tomorrow. it would be a lot easier if you just helped me out.”

you take your glasses off and furrow your eyebrows. “patrick, we are arguing against each other. and anyway, i don’t like you. i think you’re a prick. i think you’re a know-it-all. i think you’re spoiled and rude and entitled.”

he smirks. “anything else? i can go too.”

“i have to go.”

“no you don’t.”

and he grabs your wrist again. this time, he raises his eyebrows like he’s testing you. seeing how far he can take this.

“give me a hint.”

you get closer to him, your eyes flitting from his blown pupils to his pink, bitten lips. “beg me and maybe i’ll budge.”

“i’m not begging for anything.”

you grab your book bag and shove your textbook under your arm, flustered from him.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

and at 8 am sharp, you’re both at the courthouse. you’re early, you’re surprised he is too. patrick is smoking in the alley, dressed in a grey suit. you tug your pencil skirt down a bit further. and you hate to admit it, but patrick looks so fucking good and your nerves make your hands shake, the stack of notecards tucked inside threatening to fall onto the pavement.

he shakes his head at you as he puts the cigarette out under his shoe. and as he strides past you, he whispers in your ear.

“good luck, sweetheart.”

it’s so condescending, that it fuels your fire. and thirty joint minutes of arguments become heated. neither of you can tell who’s winning because your personal hatred for each other rears its angry head, threatens its way through your speech. the mock judge has to put his foot down when time is up.

“that was very, um—heated.” he straightens his documents , pushing his bifocals up his nose. “but i believe our winner is mister zweig. although id say this was close. i’d work on keeping composed; in practice this will have actual clients and reputation on the case. i’d sort out whatever animosity exists between you two before it interferes with your profession.”

patrick straightens his tie. he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“yes, your honor. i agree completely.”

and in the hallway, you’re heated. you should’ve won. you knew the fucking rules. you knew the exceptions and the case law and you rebutted his arguments perfectly.

“don’t be mad. maybe next time?”

you grab his tie in your fist. for the first time, patrick looks truly taken aback by you.

“i fucking hate you.” you spit.

patrick doesn’t like that this shoots blood straight to his cock.

“no you don’t.”

your noses are touching. patrick backs you into the stairwell.

“we dont want to ruin our reputation, do we?”

“like you give a fuck about your reputation.”

patrick grabs your hand, pushing it onto his erection.

“right now i’d throw it all away.”

and you should rip your hand away, slap him across the face and walk away. you squeeze him.

he slams his lips against yours. his hand finds your jaw, fingers strong on the back of your head.

"i want nothing to do with you." you push him away, but his eyes are dark, his tie loosened. his lips are smeared with your lip gloss, mouth ajar. you taste cigarettes and spearmint.

but you go back for more, letting him back you against the wall. your hands yank his shirt from his trousers, feeling up his abdomen, his chest, up to his neck. you squeeze.

he yanks your hair back.

"you're not in control here."

"i'm not?" you yank on his tie.

"no. you're not."

he flips you around, pressing your cheek against exposed brick. it hurts. you don't care.

hooking a finger in your mouth, he smirks at you. "no fucking self respect." he uses his other hand to bunch your skirt up, forcing your panties to the side. "you fucking hate me. you don't want anything to do with me." he pushes another finger in your mouth. you choke. "but look at you." he takes his fingers out with a pop. you try to turn around to face him.

he's stronger than you. he fumbles with his belt.

"do you want me to fuck you?" he asks it lowly, against the shell of your ear.

"no." it's a blatant lie; patrick lets go of you.

but you just don't want to admit it. you don't move an inch. it's you that pulls him back into you. mumbling into his mouth how you don't want him, how you should've won.

he gnaws on your lip, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he hikes your leg up.

"but you didn't win." he wraps a hand around your throat. "i did."

he pulls himself out of his pants, and lines himself up before quickly deciding to turn you back around, so he can fuck you from behind.

"what's--"

"I'm not fucking making love to you." he shoves himself inside you. "i'm using you."

[lilislegacy]

https://www.tumblr.com/fate-of-the-envious/748795886289780736/concerning-snippets-from-pjo-chalice-of-the-gods?source=share

So, I'm neutral on Percabeth, but this post kind of has a point.

Do you have any counter arguments for these points? I want to keep an open mind and you seem like you'd have some good arguments.

Anon, thank you for the ask. I typically don’t respond to requests that want me to talk about someone else’s post, but I have some serious points to make here and I mean business. I am not trying to start anything or call OP out; I am just stating my own personal interpretation of this scene, along with other quotes that I will inform you all of, and the possible issues brought up. Nobody go attack OP. They have a right to believe what they believe and to post what they want.

For those who don’t click the link (though I think you should), the original poster is discussing the scene in Chalice of the Gods where Annabeth pushes Percy off the cliff into the water. The post basically says that Annabeth endangered him by not telling him what was going to happen, pushed him into dirty, unsafe water, and is responsible for him getting harmed and bloodied up. Then they say that this is proof that Percabeth is an unhealthy relationship.

So, I have two major thoughts on this post, and one major problem with it.

My first thought: I think it goes back to the same thing that the judo flip does. Was it the best way to do things? No. But was she abusing him? No.

I feel like people keep trying to act as if Percy and Annabeth are regular human beings. They are not. Can we as a fandom PLEASE stop acting like they have similar experiences, expectations, and physical limitations as regular people? As if they don't almost die on a consistent basis? As if danger isn't part of their everyday life?

The words “push him off a cliff” are alarming to us because we imagine a giant mountainside and immediate death. But that was far from the case here. She pushed him off a little hillside ledge into some water. Could a regular human get hurt from that? Sure. But again: they are NOT human. They are half-god. They are hybrids—humanoids, even. They don't get hurt or feel pain like we do. How many freaking times have they been slammed into concrete walls by giants? Pounced on by huge mythical creatures? Slashed, stabbed, and wounded by vicious monsters? Stuff that would immediately kill any one of us? A LOT. And each time, they are fine.

He is not going to get hurt like we would, and since she's the same way, she knows that.

My second thought, which I cannot stress enough:

She pushed him... into WATER. You know, his godly element—the thing that, when he's in it, puts him at his most powerful state; the same thing that heals any injuries he has; the thing over which he has total control and in which he spends most of his time.

By pushing him into the water, Annabeth put him in the safest possible scenario. Are people not reading the scene? The only way Percy was going to complete the quest (and it had to be him who did it) AND beat the river god was by being in the water. It gives him control over the situation.

Now for my major problem: The original post gives false information and takes everything out of context.

If you actually read the book, you’ll see that Annabeth KNEW he would be able to breathe because the water was not dirty where she pushed him in. In fact, right before he goes in, Percy states that the water below was “clear as glass, free of snakes, and just begging to be canonballed into” (pg. 126). Need I say more? (Don’t worry, I’m about to.)

THEN he says, “On the downside, it was ringed by sheer cliffs, with no obvious way down unless I wanted to ride the rapids downriver through Serpent Town.” So he knew he needed to jump in because that was the safest way for him to get there.

THEN Annabeth suggests, “You could jump in with the staff,” and Percy quite literally says, “Sure,” so now Annabeth knows he’s willing to jump down into it. But then Percy follows with, “The problem is climbing back up.”

However, Annabeth, ever so prepared, pulls out a rope. So Percy does have a safe way back up. She’s got him.

Then Percy remembers the river god and suggests that they take some time and make a plan, but then, from afar, they hear Grover start playing music, which means the deadly snakes were now all after Grover. Percy then goes, “The clock has started. Grover is in trouble.” And Annabeth says, “Times up.” That’s when she pushes him over.

He was going to jump in no matter what. That WAS planned. They discussed it. They were going to discuss a plan for what would happen if the river god showed up, but since their best friend was now in danger and both of their priorities were to protect him, they did not have time to make a plan. So Annabeth put the plan in action KNOWING that he would be okay in the water.

The only reason he got hurt—AFTER he landed safely and completely unharmed in the water—was because the river god attacked him, which was going to happen regardless when he tried to mess with the river. And then guess what happens IMMEDIATELY after the river god hurts him? The water—that Annabeth pushed him into, mind you—HEALED him. Just like it always has. Just like Annabeth knew it would if something were to happen.

The original post did not give half the information. It made it seem like Percy had no idea what was going to happen and that they hadn’t discussed it at all. The original post tells everyone that the water was filthy and that Annabeth didn’t know if he could breathe in it. The original post tells everyone that Percy was harmed BECAUSE of the jump. The original post tells everyone that it’s Annabeth’s fault that the river god harmed Percy—none of which are the case at all. The post is just a bunch of false statements coupled with out-of-context screenshots designed to manipulate people into feeling like they have to hate Annabeth Chase. It’s fine to not like Percabeth, but this post manipulates both the book and the viewers. Now, it’s fine to post opinions, but THIS aspect is not okay.

Now, could Annabeth have said, “Hurry! Jump!!”? Yes, she could have. That would have been the more gentle thing to do. But this was clearly a moment where a girlfriend thought it would be funny to push her boyfriend into some water—that he was about to dive into—instead of him jumping. No one here has ever pushed someone into a pool or off a diving board? Huh? I think it shows that their relationship is safe and comfortable enough that they can do things like that without it being a big deal. I feel like in most demigod relationships, this would not be seen as an issue. The only reason it seems to be on a larger scale here is because it's from a significant height, which again I'll remind you: doesn't get hurt easily + gets healed and powered by water = no injury happening. Annabeth also knew that Percy was comfortable jumping down into the water. It seems like a harmless situation to me. She made the decision knowing full well that he would be okay and safe because the water protects him. And all the negative and scary things that happened afterward were because the river god didn't want Percy to mess with the river. But Percy needed to mess with the river. Annabeth pushing him in did not cause that conflict.

Also, people are giving Percy no credit??? Why are we acting like he’s a weak little baby? This is Perseus Jackson, two-time Hero of Olympus, son of the brutal sea god. This guy is tough as nails, and Annabeth knows that and has full confidence in his abilities. People get mad when she is all soft and gentle with him because she’s “babying him,” but then when she treats him like an equal, capable demigod, they get mad because “she’s abusing him.” After she pushes him, Percy literally says that by doing it, Annabeth had “full confidence in [his] abilities” (pg. 128). She trusted that he could handle it because they are demigods and they HAVE to be able to handle things like this. She has seen him go through far, far worse than landing in some clean water and facing a minor god. She believes in him.

And isn't it somewhere around this time that Percy teaches Magnus, Annabeth's cousin, how to survive spontaneous deep plunges into icy cold water? Percy is such an expert on this that he teaches her cousin how to do it. Additionally, Percy and Annabeth quite literally fell into Tartarus—a slightly further drop than this—together, and survived because at the last minute they hit water, which protected Percy. And physically, he was fine then too. Plunging into water from heights is not a new experience for this dude. In fact, he's on the diving team at school—a little different, since that's coordinated, but still—the guy is very used to hitting water from heights. It's quite literally a daily thing for him. The only thing that shocked him here was the temperature of the water. And, mind you, this man has been to the bottom of the ocean. He recovered very quickly. Do people really think Annabeth pushed him in without the complete and utter certainty that he would be completely fine? I cannot stress how casual this is for him.

I would also like to add that Percy was in no way actually upset at her. A tad annoyed? Maybe, if you want to stretch things even more. But then, like, 2 seconds later after the river events, he's saying how cute she is, saying he loves her, kissing her, and they are laughing together. He is fine. They are fine. And if the roles were reversed and Annabeth was a daughter of the sea god and Percy affectionately pushed her off a ledge into some water, it still wouldn't be concerning.

I really do appreciate people like OP here wanting to call out harmful relationships in fiction, and I am never afraid to criticize Rick Riordan. I myself have said that I don't like how Annabeth acted in Wrath of the Triple Goddess (though I hold that against Rick, not Annabeth, since Rick openly admits he's writing them differently now to mirror the TV show versions). But Percy and Annabeth have consistently demonstrated themselves as mature, responsible, and kind human beings who love and support each other and make each other feel very safe and valued. Everyone is welcome to have their opinions and post whatever, but I really do think we should channel these types of discussions towards far more deserving issues, especially those that actually have factual reasoning behind them rather than false claims.

[runby2]

Ok so it's canon that Klavier mentally age regresses around Kristoph. It obviously wasn't the writers entire intent, but it is the type of abuse Kristoph uses on Klavier in this context. I know because I am a victim of it as well.

You see him shrink in on himself when he panics about something - he hits walls with his fists like a frustrated child and holds his head. He even starts begging.

When he was 17 he immediately jumped to his age as his defense when he realized oh no, I messed up, this isn't what Kristoph wanted me to say. I need to fix this or else. You see him going quiet any time Kristoph throws a backhanded comment during the misham case - oh, older brother is talking, time for me to be quiet.

The panic and silence from Klavier's end is involuntary, because he tries to bite back and he hates how he's feeling. You see him have a panic attack when he realizes that everything he knew was a lie.

I think the most tragic part is that Kristoph knows it only takes one degrading comment like that to get Klavier to stop talking, and regress back to feeling small and powerless. Klavier only breaks out of it because Apollo is there to ground him. Kristoph calls it control that Klavier is spiraling out of, and it is, but more specifically he's using trigger terms that sound simply rude around others, but they are heavy enough to knock Klavier down immediately. Because Klavier has had these threats and comments weighing him down gradually throughout his entire life. And now, during his weakest and most vulnerable moment, they've never hit him harder.

We've seen how these comments affected Apollo's self esteem. Imagine what Klavier had to deal with all of his life. He's stuck in a loop of being that younger brother forever - he never had a chance to grow up. He knows he can't live up to Kristoph, and puts a mask on to be the adult rockstar. What's underneath it all?

A scared teenager.

[dizzyduck44]

So let me get this straight. This weekend

Lewis makes some sarcy comment about Lando losing the lead in the sprint.

Lando leads race start to last corner, dragging his teammates arse round in his DRS the whole way, to then gives up the win on the line against team orders.

Stewards went for a tea break during quali, arrived back for Q3.

Max gets given a single place grid drop, losing pole.

Max goes on the war path with George, squares up to him on the drivers parade, (insert swear word of choice where you think appropriate) “I hope you and your FIA buddies are happy”.

Oscar cuts the pit white line in front of Lewis and is under investigation before the cars make it to the grid. 😡

Race starts, Lewis jump starts, Lando nearly takes the lead at the first corner.

Esteban (who unbeknownst to anyone was driving his last race for Alpine) collides with Franco in the first corner.

Two corners later Lance Stroll drives into Alex and gets a 10 second penalty and 2 penalty points.

Lewis gets a 5 seconds penalty for the jump start.

Liam then gets a 10 second penalty and 2 penalty points for causing a collision.

Maybe from earlier contact Alex’s wing mirror decides to go solo and sits on the start finish straight.

FIA has a meltdown. They turn the pit straight into a disco light, yellow/green/yellow/green/yellow/green/yellow/green. Double yellow. We select double yellows. No back to single yellows. No we really think this should be a double yellow.

Meanwhile drivers are pottering around, Max is pumping in fastest laps, race continues until Valtteri takes out the mirror and makes a bad situation 30 times worse.

The FIA have to do something now right?

NO.

Because by now Max wants the world to burn and has started screaming he doesn’t think Lando lifted during the flag Hokey Cokey.

Well Max they ain’t got time to care about that, because Lewis and Carlos now have punctures.

Someone at the FIA remembers they employ a safety car driver for a reason and send him out.

Safety car goes through the pits so the debris can be moved. (This option was available to them 10 minutes earlier) and Lando nearly runs into the back of Lewis who suddenly slams on.

Calm decends for a few laps. Until. Yeah it’s Max again. “Anything from that yellow flag?” (Remember this later).

Safety car is coming in, cars seem confused about when Max will go. Max and Lando are on the radio saying the safety car lights are still on. Lando’s team tell him they aren’t.

We start racing.

Hell breaks loose.

The stewards decide that Lando didn’t lift during the double yellow, despite the fact they didn’t know what flag to put out, and it changed as he passed the sign. 10 second stop go penalty and 3 penalty points.

Now I am well aware there will have been people watching who have never even heard of this penalty. Apparently the last one given was 2018. For comparison, the FIA gave Max a 5 place grid drop for the same offence at the same track last year. The same year they allowed a tractor and Marshalls on the track in the pouring rain with no flags.

Lewis gets a second penalty, this time a drive through, again don’t see many of those, it’s normally penalty added to your race time. By now I swear they are just looking for penalties they haven’t handed out yet this weekend.

And a 10 second penalty and 2 penalty points for Alex for causing a collision as well.

Sergio also gets investigated for dangerous driving.

BUT WAIT

We then give George a 5 second penalty and a penalty point for driving too far behind the safety car.

Post race Max continues to rant about George and how he effectively begged for the grid penalty and decides now he was asking about Lando as he thought “he had got DRS from a back marker” and wanted to be sure that was why he caught up. Note earlier comments he asked TWICE about.

Lando with zero context of what the world has just seen, takes it hard and thinks he is responsible for the whole shit show.

Oscar gets given a reprimand for his earlier pit lane incident.

Ted Kravitz has confirmed that the lights on the top of the safety car did in fact go out. But the drivers can’t see them because of a spoiler on the back of the car! The ones underneath did in fact NOT go out.

AND THEN

Fans have found Ferrari might not have lifted during the double yellows either!!!!

Seriously when pissed off fans are more on top of data than the stewards, what is even the point?

The FIA need to realise they are there for the safety of the drivers, teams and spectators. This is the point the teams need to band together and address the FIA, what were you doing for 8 minutes with debris on the track? You’ve handed out one of the harshest penalties for a situation you created. Two drivers had punctures because of a situation you created.

Honestly I know Esteban won’t be on the grid in Abu Dhabi, Lewis seems to have zero motivation to do it. Unless you are McLaren, Ferrari, RB or Alpine do you even care about this race?

Seriously so many errors were made in the running of this race today I would say strike it from the record, but Zhou and Sauber got points!!!! And that would be far too cruel.

But I leave you with this thought. The FIA can stop a race and abandon it due to poor driving standards. Does this go both ways? Can drivers stop and abandon a race for poor stewarding standards? Today would have been a strong candidate.

[worldlxvlys]

teasing

(part four of the CRUSH series)

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutt, no actual p in v, masturbation (male + female), cursing

a/n: read the previous part for context !

“god, you look so beautiful. and your voice? i could listen to you talk all day”

the camera was aimed at his face, but the wet squelching of him jerking himself off could be heard in the background. he was breathing heavily, the sounds of his low pants filling the room.

if he was trying to be discreet, he wasn’t doing a good job at it.

“just-just please keep talking to me, okay ? need to hear your voice so fucking badly”

the video cut off.

i quickly began to record my own video.

“so fucking needy matt, why don’t you show me what you’re doing baby? i can help you, but i gotta be able to see. wanna make sure i’m doing it right”

“you keep sending videos, i’ll keep talking to you pretty boy”

i ended the video and sent it to him, he opened it immediately.

“what am i doing? just enjoying the sound of your voice, sweetheart”

his shirt was off now, the movement of his tatted arm making it obvious that he was still pumping himself furiously.

“ imagining you’re in front of me, on your knees. that pretty face looking up at me while i make a mess all over it. but what i really want is to hear the way you say my name when you’re twitching and shaking under me”

my hand crept past the waistband of my skirt and panties, a moan slipping past my lips while i played with myself.

“ i’d play with you through your panties, watch you squirm while the lace catches on your clit. you just love to tease me, don’t you? let’s see how you like it when i do it back”

the video ended.

i pulled my panties down my legs, holding them in my hand while i hit record;

“you’re right about one thing baby” i spoke, moving the lacy panties into the view of the camera, “i love wearing lace”

i trailed my hand back down to my heat, rubbing the panties against it.

“god, it feels so good matt” i moaned out, eyes screwing shut. “i think about your hands all the time. such long fingers, and those veins? makes me wonder if that’s the only thing on you that’s so veiny”

my breathing began to pick up as i thought about all the times i’d seen his dick push against his pants, practically begging to be sucked.

“and don’t get me started on those grey sweats you love to wear. god, you’re such a slut, basically begging to be fucked dumb. bet you’d like that, huh?”

“you talk about wanting me under you, but what if i made you work for it? what if i made you get on your knees and beg for it?”

SENT.

he opened it immediately, once again. after a few minutes my phone began to ring.

INCOMING FACTIME CALL: MATTTTT 🤭

ACCEPT ? DECLINE?

when the call connected, the sound of matt’s heavy panting rang through my ears. “i’d do it, i would. i- fuck, i’d get on my knees and say whatever you want me to, do whatever you want me to. i’d be so good for you”

“yeah? tell me what you’d do, matt” i spoke as i propped my phone up, angling it so he could see my hand disappearing under my skirt without showing off what was underneath it.

“oh my god” he whispered to himself, mouth hung open slightly as his eyes were fixated on the screen. “i’d make you get on all fours, and finger you just like that” i let out a moan at his words, spreading my legs wider.

“i’d push a finger in slowly, teasing you a little” he spoke, watching while i followed his instructions and pushed in a finger. “like this?” i asked.

“hm, not sure. can’t really see, baby” he replied. “stop teasing me and i’ll stop teasing you” i countered, continuing to move my finger inside of me slowly.

“take it out” he spoke firmly, catching me off guard. “what?” i asked in surprise.

“take your finger out and move it up to your clit, slowly” i followed his instructions with a low huff.

“what, you have an attitude now? i thought you loved teasing?” he spoke in such a cocky tone, i could practically hear his smirk.

i rolled my eyes at that, letting out a quick “fuck you”. his jaw clenched at that, his eyes becoming darker.

“you think i’m playing with you? don’t move. i’m coming over” he spoke quickly, putting his phone down to pull up his pants.

“wait, what?” i asked, finding myself shocked again. when he came back to the phone he was fully dressed and walking out of his room.

“you heard me, stay on the phone. i wanna make sure you don’t touch yourself” he spoke before yelling out to his brothers, “hey, i’m going over to y/n’s, i’ll probably just stay there tonight”

he shut his front door and made his way to the car. “you better have that attitude fixed by the time i get there” he spoke before pulling off.

well, shit.

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