#I can't bring myself to keep listening

[moe-broey]

Every day I wake up, I'm full of inspiration and ambition, I lollygag a bit, I kinda skirt around it, I actively avoid The Thing I WANT to do. Then I just kinda give up and do something else.

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by my beloved no.1 chappell roan stan @cordiallyfuturedwight thanks my darling <33 i can only apologise for the lack of ms roan here... i swear good luck babe has been on repeat i don't know what happened

tagging the usual suspects, apologies if i've already missed yours: @aprylynn @jiminsproof @thvinyl @cosmicdreamgrl @visionsofgideontheninth @hoseeok @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @monismochi <333 and you dear reader

oh and see here for more of my self-proclaimed songs of the summer if you're interested in that kind of thing

[musical-chick-13]

I mean. I guess the good news is that I am now 100% sure I'm not in love with Her™ even a little bit at all anymore, but like. At what cost.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

Me, when Sebastian joins my party for the first time: Okay, this time I'm not going to forget about you, Sebastian. I'm going to make an effort to use you a lot this playthrough so I can better understand you.

Also me, immediately forgetting about Sebastian while finishing Act 2 and making it halfway through Act 3 before I finally notice his Faith quest: ......................Oh. Right. My bad.

[psalmsofpsychosis]

so anyway fuck DC, i'm tired of the same-plot-different-shoes stories give me weelchair-bound Bruce Wayne in his 50s making a bat sanctuary in the Wayne Manor gardens and discreetly doing detective work while his kids run the errands, and his worst case is Joker that he meets by the end of story and Joker kisses him on the cheek and tells him "thank you for all your hard work," before he fuck offs again.

[northwest-cryptid]

Don't even get me started on Hod, I'm not immune to Hod.

[wolpatinga]

[nighthawkes]

9 people to get to know better

tagged by @froggierboy :)

last song: Super Reflector by the Technicolors

currently watching: Adventure Time and It's Always Sunny

currently reading: Nona the Ninth and Red Dragon

current obsession: J. C. Leyendecker

tagging: @jewishbookwyrm, @me-sorta, @emeraldyke, @sarcastic-clapping, @beemotifs, @whimsigod, @metonymph, @holochromatic, @orangejuice-fiction

[sherlock-is-ace]

ok having heard an idiot woman on the radio saying jk r*wling is only cancelled because "that sells" i'm going to jab a q tip in my ear and die... (:

[secondpersonpoetry]

HI!!!!! whilst eating dinner i watched the “once an otter always an otter” number retirement video on youtube and thought “ooh. cool. let me see what people are saying”. opened tumblr. saw your most recent reblog, pressed play. saw DYLAN STROME say the word “davo” and immediately had to pause it lol. put my fork down to boot. like…..flabbergasted. genuinely. man oh man. my goodness. unpaused. the past tense “it was (WAS!!!!) an honor to be your friend” (😧) and the “and hopefully we can make some more [memories] in the future” and the fade to black. SHUT UPPPPPPPPP. OH MY GOD…………….i don’t have anything of substance to add just im sick!!! im sickened!!!!!! it’s never overrrrrrrrrr. absolutely unbelievable!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! frank ocean ivy trust and believe you WILL be looped for the foreseeable future……..they’ll never be those kids again!!!!! and the game’s in a week and a half!!!!!!! gahhhhhhh. nuts crazy bonkers etc etc. going to have an absolutely exceedingly normal one about it for sure!!!!!! hope you have a good one!!!!!!!

also! just for future reference: do you prefer asks of this nature sent to this blog or your hockey one? thank you!!

"Centaur over Tomer Butte" [amended, abridged], Robert Wrigley

you know. i don't think i actually ever registered dylan saying "davo". i think my ears just decided i didn't need to hear that, for the good of my brain to continue functioning. who up having their present haunted by the ghosts of the past who are less like ghosts and more like someone you keep forgetting walked out of the next room but also aren't quite sure if they came back and you've only just worked up the courage to call out to them. schrödinger's best friend who might or might not be there in your future to make more memories with. but at least this time you opened the door and left it cracked for him to crawl back through.

[mandoriana]

What if...Ygraine Returns as a Ghost to Care for Her Son

Servant: Sir, I came to inform you that the knights you sent to battle are all dead.

Uther (sitting on the throne, distracted): Well, send their belongings to their families and tell them they were heroes. And bring more cookies, I'm hungry.

Arthur (six years old, watching the scene with distracted eyes next to a very angry ten-year-old Morgana): Good people die young, so when I grow up, I want to be bad like mom. 😌

Morgana: What are you talking about, Arthur! Your mother was a kind and good woman! Where did you get the idea that she was bad!?

Arthur: Yesterday I heard mom say that her dream was for a manure cart to run over dad so he would die once and for all. 🙂

Morgana (eyes wide in complete shock): Your mother would never say such a thing, Arthur… 🫢

Ygraine (next to Uther, trying to strangle him but unable to because she is a ghost): Don't listen to her, baby, mom hates dad and doesn't support anything he's doing! I still can't believe I married this man, listen to what mom says, Arthur, don't follow in his footsteps!

Arthur (turns to Morgana): Mom just said she hates dad, she's also trying to strangle him, but her hands keep going through his body, I think she's a ghost. 🫠 *slowly losing sanity*

Morgana (realizing that the young prince might be crazy): Arthur, maybe she's just joking…

Ygraine (trying to make Uther trip by stepping on his own cape): I'M NOT JOKING! If I could, I would kill him myself! I just can't because I can't touch him!

Arthur: I don't know if the gods would like so much violence…

Ygraine: The gods don't like your father!

Arthur: Okay… 🙂 *takes a cookie from the tray the servant brought*

[rafeandonlyrafe]

strictly professional

words: 500

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving oral, model!rafe, agent/manager!reader, semi public sex

“im only doing this for you once, okay?” you clarify as you sink down to your knees.

“i can handle it myself.” rafe grunts out.

“except you haven't. i got them to delay the shoot by an hour and you still come out with a boner. if you want to be a successful- and rich- model, you can't act like this.” you take a deep breath as you bring your hands to rafes thighs. “as your agent, im going to help you because im not losing my cut from this shoot just because of your dick.”

you don't give rafe anymore time to argue and pull his pants down to his ankles, taking his underwear with them.

rafes cock springs up, the tip a pinky red that clearly gives away just how long he's been this hard, painfully hard.

you don't give yourself much time to think about it, opening your mouth and dropping your lips around rafe cock. you pause for only a moment to taste him, to flick your head against the leaky slit, before you begin to move.

you only got the photographer and brand rep to agree to an additional thirty minute delay, so you can't spend a minute too long cherishing the moment.

your head starts to rise up and down, almost robotic motions as you repeat to yourself in your head that this is strictly professional.

sure, one of the reasons you got into the model representation industry was to be around hot guys, but you do have a particular knack for management and spotting good potential stars.

you feel rafes hand in your hair, but he doesn't push you down, just an extra pressure to encourage you to keep momentum.

you spotted rafe on vacation in the outer banks, approached him instantly, probably flirted a bit too much, and then handed him your business card. you weren't sure he would reach out, but were pleasantly surprised, clearly enticed by the riches you promised would come his way from his bone structure.

you know his face and body can take him far, if only his body would cooperate. you put all your focus into sucking rafe off. 

you listen to his soft sounds, the way his breathing gets loud and almost turns into moans. you wish in that moment you could really hear him, but there's no way with the entire crew just outside of the door.

you feel the urge to gag but swallow instead, trying to keep it down as you feel rafes cock swell inside of your throat, his length somehow seeming to grow only more.

you close your eyes tightly and push your head forward until your nose nuzzles into rafes skin, throat constricting around his cock as he lets out a low curse. you feel the way his hands tighten first, gripping your hair, and then his cock releases.

you wait for the spurts to subside before pulling off, swallowing thickly and trying to avoid coughing loudly.

you look up at rafe, his blissed out face, knowing your jaw is still slackened, eyes filled with tears.

“thanks.” rafe mumbles, his words bringing you back to your senses.

you wipe your chin and stand up, placing your hands on your hips. “get your pants back on, cameron.” you scold him, voice switching back to your typical agent tone. “the photographer is waiting.”

[1hot-mess-express1]

hear me out… toge with a spit kink, forcing you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue w his cursed speech so he can spit inside it, he abuses his power to dominate in the bedroom bc he keeps it pent up all day ffkdkskdkska

Listen, friend I hear you but also

I feel like he wasn't nasty AT FIRST. He was way too nervous and shy to do anything too mean; you for sure took his Vcard, so like at first, he was a little baffled, not sure what to do with himself. However, after the drunk!Toge incident....he had ideas. Absolutely nasty, vile thoughts on the regular, but despite his vulgar mouth and asshole humor, he's a sweet boy, so he kept them to himself. That quickly changes, however, when he's knuckle-deep in your pussy, curling his fingers in a way that has you slack-jawed and moaning his name. He can't help the way he stares at your mouth, or more specifically, your tongue. It's so soft and inviting, just begging to be spit on. He momentarily fantasizes about spitting in your mouth and forcing you to hold it there until you cum on his hand, effectively shutting up the cute noises you were making for him, forcing you to taste him the whole time he was rearranging your guts with his much larger hand. He groans at the thought and bucks his hips into the mattress slightly, but he's pulled from his thoughts when you lean up to whisper in his ear, "Tell me what you want....mmm, wan' you to force me...please." All sense of respectability goes out the window in an instant as he's gripping your jaw with one hand while the other one stuffed in your cunt takes on a brutal pace. "Open your mouth," his voice is misleadingly stern, as he feels himself get impossibly harder at the way your jaw hangs slack immediately, tongue sticking out slightly to taunt him. He leans down and spits directly on the surface of the pink muscle before telling you to "Close your mouth and don't swallow." His throat is getting mildly hoarse, but he can't bring himself to care. Not when you look like this, melting under his touch, jaw clenched shut as spit dribbles down the side of your mouth, trying desperately to obey his command.

He was a full blown menace after that, I'm praying for your cewchie

(Anon tbh at first I read this and was like....nah...my sweet boy? no way, buuuuuuut.....honestly......This is incredibly hot and I will be throwing myself out a window

[lyrefromthesea]

oh! Since you also do requests with hybrids, could I ask for wolfhybrids (or fox) hashiras x reader? Like hashiras see the reader as the perfect mate material, so they try to get closer to them by courting them in their own ways

Male Hashira x Reader - Prey tell?

author's note: the title is a pun, my humor is dry. i fell down the stairs and sit in a hospital since yesterday.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: wolf!hybrids, a/b/o, kny!au

i've been thinking a lot about this idea now, especially which rank each hashira would have. alpha? beta? omega? it was quite hard, but i allowed myself to create a little au for better understanding.

to not mess things up, i decided that the reader will be an omega in this au. all the hashira are considered alphas, which of course has a reason too.

i've went through the a/b/o thing over the past two or three days and to put it simply: alpha is the equivalent to strong, omegas are weak in comparison.

the hashira are the strongest swordsmen in the corp, it would only be right to rank them as an alpha (or a beta).

you, on the other hand, have been fighting your way to the top. omegas are weaker than most, but you possess a strong mind, which helped you work your way up.

naturally, the day will come that you catch their attention, if only for the fact that you're an omega. i also imagine omegas to be more rare than alphas and betas, since they take on a weaker role in this au.

Tengen:

• he's smitten since day one - an alpha different from any you've met yet. smug smirk and tall body towering over you the minute your scent hits his nose.

• your scent gives him the same feeling the scents of his three wives do. you're so small, perhaps not physically, but your weak omega presence makes his protective instincts flare up.

• just another day or two and three women are by your side, two betas and another omega looking at you with happiness and a feeling of finally coming home.

• you'll learn to love all of them - courting one is courting all. Tengen's not surprised to come home and find all of you nuzzled together in a cuddle pile.

• and if that isn't enough to turn you into a proper mate of his, shiny presents and lots of time squished between four other people will surely do it.

Obanai:

• small and weak. how did you end up near the alphas? he's suspicious when he heard of you, no omega would be able to turn into a hashira. he needed to see that for himself.

• nearly falls off his spot in the tree when he sees you and a comforting scent hits his nose. he's almost embarrassed by the way his fluffy ears are twitching, trying to listen to your conversation with Rengoku.

• he follows you around for a few days, mustering up the courage to talk to you after nearly a week. you looked up when the man sat in front of you, another bowl of food in hand.

• he doesn't talk much, only telling you that omegas should eat more than you do. you awkwardly look at him for a while, taking the bowl after another minute and thanking him.

• the action alone got him blushing under his mask, bringing you food for the next month when he finds you eating somewhere around the training grounds.

Rengoku:

• he's one of the calmer ones when he hears about your rank as a hashira. an omega got ranked this high? what incredible talent you must possess!

• he's by no means against your way of living, but he can't keep his mouth shut about how "you should stay home and get protected by a proper alpha!" it's no insult and you can sense that much, but you find yourself disagreeing.

• once he's sure that you're the perfect material for a mate, he'll court you the proper way, just like his mother once told him.

• it's just that his "proper courting" nearly has you running away in embarrassment.

• "dear [name], allow me to show you my interest through the traditional ways of courting one's future mate!"

• your agreement only came a day later, after you survived his booming voice right behind you in the midst of a forest's silence. next time he shouldn't sneak up on you like that.

Sanemi:

• hah? ridiculous. a small thing like you is supposed to work midst the likes of him? don't make him laugh, he could eat you up for breakfast.

• with that attractive smell reeking from your body, you wouldn't survive a day. he would see you become a demon's snack sooner than later.

• his jaw nearly hits the ground when he sees you outsmart the lower rank demon in front of you with speed and flexibility instead of strength.

• he grumbles about your stupid cute presence, sweetly roaming around him. you're truthfully just going on about your day, but it's enough to make his mind go blank.

• you're the perfect mix of strong and obedient for him, listening so well to him, because "he's done this job longer than you and you were happy to learn."

• internally smacks himself when he tries signalling his courting intentions by gifting you clothes heavily drenched in his scent.

Giyuu:

• he didn't voice his worries, but an omega living this kind of life? any alpha would be worried, right? especially since omegas have gotten so rare these days!

• but, oh, you're so sweet and nice. you once cooked him some soup and he swore you needed an alpha's protection - his protection.

• if he could just steal you away and ensure your safety, but he knew that would make you unhappy. so he makes sure to keep you safe by following you like a lap dog.

• it's not uncommon to see the new omega and the gloomy hashira take a walk together. people tend to avoid you, feeling unwell because of the intense stare the alpha behind you gives them.

• some of them swore they have seen the two of you nuzzle against each other. a hint of his scent had previously started lingering on your uniform too.

Gyomei:

• is it just your imagination or have you been joining missions with the stone hashira more often? no, it's definitely true.

• ever since he has taken a liking to you, he had started courting you by ensuring your safety and happiness.

• he doesn't know a lot about proper courting, mostly because it didn't interest him for most of his life. his courting is really special, but you don't mind.

• instead of bestowing gifts upon you, he takes you to special places he has found, most of them with a unique smell - a waterfall or a meadow full of flowers.

• he tries to gouge your reactions, mostly trusting his ears and tail, because he sadly can't see your beautiful face.

• you find yourself blushing with the way his ears often twitch around you, trying to listen to your every breath and laugh.

• your favourite times are when a protective tail brushes against your back, inviting you into a long session of cuddling.

[dilf-docs]

X Si Volvemos

ex older bf!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: there are many things you and logan disagree in but not when it comes to things in bed.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (phew), smut, ex!logan, exes to ????, p in v, creampie, reader's in her early to middle twenties so her frontal lobe hasn't developed yet; don't expect any reasonable thinking on her side, logan is on his middle to late 40s, angst (duh), this happens in an AU where mutants don't exist bc i don't wanna complicate myself with timelines lol hence time isn't really important but it's contemporary, the vibes i bring to the function are more sad than horny and i'm sorry, toxic too! may build a series around it?

word count: 1,925 words

side note: the incredible @bpmiranda's got me with a very bad case of ex!logan fever :( plus after listening to karol G's album mañana será bonito and seeing i may or may not be obssesed with romeo santos, i got the song in the title on loop: as you can see, it's all very fitting ++ don't forget to check out her stories, they're so good istg!!!!

You shouldn't call.

"Logan" you speak. His name burns in the tip of your tongue, like a secret you're not supposed to tell.

He shouldn't answer.

It's quiet at first on the other line, until a rough voice says I'm here, appearing to be distant, but who is he trying to fool? As soon as he saw the number pop on the screen, his fingers moved with a learned urgency.

You shouldn't keep calling.

"I need you" three words to cover those you actually mean; hanging in the spaces between the silence.

I miss you. I love you.

Your hear a heavy sigh on the other end.

He shouldn't keep answering.

"Princess..." Logan pleads, "don't do this"

You know better than that, he wants to say, but keeps his mouth shut. Just to hear your voice, just to-

"Please, Lo" you whine out. Logan grabs his jeans with force, the fabric strained under his white-knuckled grip. It takes him a lot not to run to you right there and now.

"Don't" but his voice cracks as much as his resistance.

"I've got the house" you whisper the prayer; a routine so sacred none of you seem to break it, "just for us"

"Y/n" even saying your name is painful; like the most addicting and damaging drug to ever exist, "stop"

Logan loved your stubborn heart, but there are times where he wishes you weren't like this.

"I'm sorry" and then he hangs up.

I'm sorry for not being who you needed. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I keep on coming back after I said I would leave you alone. I'm sorry I can't keep my promises.

You feel it around your neck―bruises in the vocals your voice has failed to scream; it chokes you with rage.

"Are you stupid?" you ask yourself in the mirror.

What are you doing? Why are you doing this to yourself? Do you love him more than you love you?

You dial again, but this time, it's a girl who picks up.

"Yeah?"

"Hi. Wanna go out?"

Logan feels so out of place, but this used to be your favorite bar, and he's desperate for a drink.

Listening to your voice has always made him weak, but after you broke up, it drives him crazy.

He empties another glass, feeling pathetic. This is how bad it's gotten: you've got him scouring the places you used to go, chasing your ghost, trying to get a glimpse of your silhouette or a whiff of the phantom of your scent, the lavender haunting him; getting under his skin.

A song beggins playing, and it's the same vinyl set from two years ago. The night he met you: a pretty young thing so out of place in an old bar like that, playing hard to get, only to end the night moaning over him, fogging his car's windows, saying his name in a way no one else had before. He still remembers the way your legs trembled but he held you, beads of sweat confusing themselves with the glitter on your skin. Logan doesn't know what that is, but he's marveled, so in awe of you, everything of you: young, new, exciting.

But every new thing wears out, and the gap he swore wouldn't matter came crashing in years that built a distance between him and you.

So he did what he did best: ruin it. Deny the feelings bubbling inside; let them consume his reasoning, pushing you like he had done with everyone who cared about him before.

When he broke your heart, he took a part with him. So you keep coming back, looking for it; trying to piece yourself together. And he let's you: because God knows you have a part of himself too.

He's so drunk he probably imagines the hint of lavender in the whiskey tinted air. He's so desperate to see you again, he's seeing your face among the crowd. He's definitely gone insane: hearing that laugh he misses every day.

"Y/n..."

The music pauses: all you can hear is your name being said in that way like it belongs to him.

"...Logan"

He walks in autopilot over to the table you and a group of girls are sitting. They're all beautiful―beautiful people attract beautiful people, but he's only got eyes for you.

"What are you doing here?"

He raises a glass he didn't know he was carrying, "having a drink".

Your lips purse, and Logan doesn't know if it's because you're laughing at him or sad.

"I see" but you divert your gaze, looking at your outfit's neck. The outfit you chose: a black dress that pushes your tits on top. They are on display, and Logan feels played by you―his eyes trained on the strained fabric, tongue watering like it did when he would lick your sensitive nipples.

"I see too" he says in automatic, and one of your friends laughs. He looks away, thanking the low lights, or you'd see the red embarrassment on his face.

You stand up and walk over to him, and your friends sense it's time to leave the two of you alone.

"Why did you hang up?" you throw the question so casually; the nerve you have.

"What do you mean?" it's the only thing that comes to his mind. Very stupid, indeed.

You scoff, "delete my number, then"

"You keep on calling" he bites back.

"And you keep answering"

You never shut up. He hates that.

"I may have to stop"

You get closer, way too closer. So much, your hot breathe clouds his judgment.

"Try to" you dare.

And he tries, he really tries. But not today.

Not today when he takes you home, finally looking complete with you in it again. You had moved out after your last discussion, saying you'll never be back.

"You haven't changed a thing" you murmur in between kisses, and he can sense a bit of melodrama in his voice that makes him roll his eyes despite the dull ache on his chest.

He picks up your body swiftly, carrying you up to the bedroom.

"Why would I?" he asks, voice so low and small you almost miss it.

"Because you hate me" you avoid his eyes, even if your faces are too close, loosing all that corageous character of yours, "said you would get rid of it; of everything that reminded you of me"

But when he drops you softly on the matress, there's still that lamp you got him in the night table.

"I couldn't" he confesses.

I couldn't, he means, because I couldn't let you go.

But you both know it won't work out, something you knew right from the start: because toxic loves only fulfill basic needs. This isn't healthy, but he forgets it all as soon as you're moaning his name. Still, he promises himself he will say goodbye to you this time, even if it's inside of you.

"Shut up and kiss me, then" you're always pushing him around, making him do the things he desires to but doesn't want to do.

So he obliges, leaning in, the lavender so strong all over your sweet skin, poisoning his mouth on every kiss he leaves. He feels you squirm under him, goosebumps along your skin, prickling against his, so visible he can see and feel it even in the dim lit room.

"Take it" Logan doesn't look at you, but when he does, you feel him stare deep into your soul, "I know you want it"

He's sliding his dick inside you as soon as the sentence is over, the permission to take you and use you implicit. He robs a drawn-out groan out of you.

"So tight for me" he murmurs against your shoulder, sharp breaths and soft groans flooding your ears. His cock hits deep within you, hard thrust no one has ever been able to replicate, making you gasp for air, burying your face in the plush pillows now drenched in your sweat.

"You're so deep" you hiss, hot and overwhelmed, waves of pleasure hitting like water against cliffside rocks. "So big, Lo" you whine, dizzy at the way your pussy stretches for him.

"Just for you" he grunts out, and it's the truth. No matter how dark the room is or how many faces he avoids, he always looks into the eyes of the other women he fucks, his heart sinking when he can no longer pretend it's you, "fuck, squeeze a bit more".

Hearing his deep voice, rough when you fuck, always making you soak, coating his dick in your juices. You grip tight, as tight as the nails that hold onto his shoulders, making him moan at the pain.

"Like that, princess. Good girl" you moan at the praise, "I know you could take me, all of me"

He grunts and pants, holding you tighter as his cock pumps faster, in sync with your now closer to happening orgasm.

Before it, he slows down his thrusts, "where do you want me to cum, princess?"

He wants to, inside of you, but he can't do so, not when he promised he wouldn't ruin your life. But making you his, marking you as only his, makes his dick inside you twitch. Fuck, he's so balls deep inside you all he can think is filling you up silly.

"Inside me, Lo" like you read his thoughts, and it always amazes and scares him; how deep inside his mind you are. Never happened, not in his four decades of life. And that's part of the problem: he's closer to death than you are but it's only with you, young―blossoming with life, that he feels truly alive.

So how can he say no, when you plead and beg with those pretty doe eyes of yours? Who could imagine such a sweet thing to be so needy. He feels like you could ask for his heart, and he'd carve a hole in his body for you―bleeding out of love; dying with a smile.

"Such a greedy little thing, princess" he mocks, but his tone betrays him―dripping in adoration, "want me to fill you up all nice?"

A broken wail is what he takes as your answer, your mind in blank.

He finds himself letting go, way faster than he should; he just misses you and your needy dripping pussy that much. You can't hold back longer either, rush flowing through your veins, much more satisfying than the alcohol you had drank an hour ago.

Logan paints your insides with layers of his hot cum, mumbling a soft:

"Anything for my princess" he keeps going, panting as he's milked entirely dry, "anything you want, my girl"

Your vision is still spotty, mind fogged: you're sure that's the reason the hurt hasn't settled in your heart yet.

Then the silence comes, like it always does now.

"Y/n" you always love when he calls you by your name, but you hate the way he's saying it now. Like a goodbye.

"Don't-" you plead, begging he shuts up. But he pulls out, and says:

"It's for the best"

You don't want what's best. You want him.

"Can't believe you wore this dress" he traces the pattern of the tight clothes, damped in sweat, "you know it's my favorite. Why?"

You fail to supress a smile, even if it's tired and almost sad, "I knew you couldn't say no".

The truth is, you know many things: like how this is never going to stop until it's destroyed you both.

[strawberrypuppy123]

Thinking of someone forcing me to touch myself in front of them. Trying to close my legs out of embarrassment just to have them yank them open and tell me they want to watch. Seeing them stare at me intently as they start to touch themselves too because they can't help it. Telling me not to stop, to keep going, because they're enjoying watching me squirm. Begging them to touch me, just for them to shake their head and continue staring. Forcing me to bring myself right to the edge before forcefully pulling my hand away and slamming themselves inside me, telling me as hot as it is to watch me touch myself they want to be the one to make me cum. Pulling my hand back down, making me keep touching myself while they fuck me and slowing down every time I do so I have no choice but to match their pace. Listening to me whine and beg and lose my mind underneath them while they watch me.

@foggyfestdetective