#I'm bullshitting their clothes so I'm not sure what year it's set
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nomaejie · 2 years ago
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Master Damian x Maid (spy) Anya 
 Anya tried horseback riding for the first time. Later they return to the mansion
Anya: It was fun. Next time we should bring 2 horses.
Damian: ...
Anya: (He doesn't look happy at all! Damn I accidentally asked too much for a servant! He'll hate me. This is not good for the mission!)
Damian: (She doesn't like riding with me..? Pffft, it's not that I like it or anything! It's just out of habit that I only brought one horse!)
Here is the plot. I bullshiting their clothes so I’m not sure what year its set:
The sudden death of the King forced the young prince to ascend the throne, which caused turmoil in the court. The nobility did not submit to the New King because he was too young. The New King, while taking on a new role, opened an investigation into his father's sudden death. He appealed to the Imperial Knights' underground knight squad - WISE. The best spies are sent into the houses of the nobles one after another to investigate the clues about the assassin of the Old King, and at the same time to spy on their loyalty to the New King. Loid, one of the knights of WISE, he is normally pretending to be a writer, with his wife Yor - a gardener, and his adopted daughter Anya. By order of the king, he was tasked with infiltrating the Desmond family. Speaking of the Desmonds, they are a family that has served the royal family faithfully for two centuries. That also means about the level of power of the Desmond family. Which side they sided with would have enormous influence over the fledgling dynasty. However, Desmond's family is known to be extremely reserved, with a limited number of servants, rarely changing. Getting in is extremely difficult. Coincidentally, the Desmonds were in need of a new maid. Loid's daughter, Anya, feels this is a golden opportunity to help her father, so she volunteered to accept the mission. Although very dissatisfied, he agreed to let his daughter perform the task. Instead, Loid will be on an outside investigation mission. Damian, the second son of the Desmonds, 17 years old. He seems to like Anya at first sight and likes to bully her. In an impulsive moment, Anya succumbed and gave Damian a punch. It was thought that the mission would end from here, but Damian did not fire Anya but also concealed the incident for her with the excuse that "it would be embarrassing if this story got out". He "punishes" Anya by making her his personal maid. He likes to command the girl constantly and make her follow him whenever he can (this greatly hinders Anya's mission). However, he was no longer acting as exaggerated as before. Their friendship gradually blossomed.
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maraeffect · 1 month ago
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hi everyone, this is my monthly check-in <3
#not feeling so great lately...there's a lesion on my other knee now#and it most likely is cancer.#they want me to wait another 10 days for an mri???? like ur crazy#if u think i can wait that long.#sighhhhhhhhh.#anyway.#some cool things have happened#like spending all day in nyc with my partner on friday <3333#and um. i did wnt to vent about smth so uh.#ED tw#lately#my energy has been too low for me to wanna cook. which in turn made my stomach shrink a LOT#since i've been surviving by grazing on snacks.#and i didnt even realize i lost weight until i went to the doctor.#i didnt realize though that it would be even MORE lost when i weighed myself without my winter clothes#and uhhhh. i currently weigh what i weighed in my senior year of high school#which is the FIRST time i've been under a certain number in over SIX YEARS.#and i havent struggled at all w body negativity or ED thoughts in over a couple years. but.#now that my ideal gender expression has shifted more to the feminine side. and now that ive lost weight.#my brain INSTANTLY latched onto that#and was like omg YES do more of that#and it feels nice. this time im FINALLY not struggling to suppress my appetite!!! my body is doing that for me!#and obviously im still eating enough to live on#but still a huge caloric deficit. and rn my wheelchair shit keeps breaking on me. my mobility company is INCOMPETENT.#and my insurance might tell me i have to wait FIVE MORE YEARS for another type of chair......I WILL DIE BY THEN.#ugh everything is so complicated now. and im ALWAYS exhausted bc the sun sets at 4:30. i've just stopped binging and i replaced it with+#a LOT. of retail therapy. i've easily spent probably 1500 of my credit limit in the last 2 months. but you know.#that and not eating are 2 of the ONLY things i can control rn. out of all the fucking bullshit these useless people and my body put me thru#anyway. i'm sure you can tell how i feel rn. i'm just going to try doing anything else today.#vent
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dyingswanpavlova · 8 days ago
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"Your girl" - Part 2 | The Salesman x Reader
Summary: After he spontaneously abducted you, you try to figure out what his plans are for you. Is it to break your will? Your body? Or something else entirely?
Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, violence, abuse, something I'd call mild torture, hinting at traumatic experiences, claustrophobic spaces, chains, degradation
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
The hunger wasn't the worst part.
No, you had learned to live with the hunger. You were your mother's daughter after all. You had a certain tolerance when it came to unpleasant living conditions.
No, what was far worse than the hunger was the darkness. You had no idea what time it was. Was it still night or had the sun risen already? Were the birds still asleep or were they happily chirping and announcing a new, beautiful day?
Surely it was beautiful to someone. It was someone's birthday. Someone's wedding day. Someone simply got to have a lazy morning and have brunch and coffee at noon.
Not you, though. You were still chained up, still hidden away in a dark closet. And you couldn't even tell if it was night or day.
Yesterday had been far worse though. The memory of it still made you flinch.
Instead of a dark closet, you had spent your day chained to the bed. So far, so good. Up until the point when he made you drink a whole water bottle, right before he chained you up. And then he left. Then he fucking left. You had heard the door shut behind him.
You really weren't a proud person and you had quickly come to realize that your situation required a certain...delicacy. So, you didn't mind when you had to beg. You didn't mind crying or yelling at all. That you just did, it came as naturally as the sun rises early and sets late. You had even agreed to say those damned, magical words.
"I'm your girl, please, I'm your girl!"
But no, silly. It was too late.
"I don't want that fucking, pitiful bullshit." He had spat out as he had tightened the chains around your wrists. "You will say it and you will mean it. Until then, we'll make do with what we have."
Which was exactly what had happened. He had forced the water down your throat and eventually you found yourself in, what he called, your bed. It hadn't been all too bad at first. Except for the obvious discomfort and the constant fear that nagged at you. But it got worse, the moment you felt the pressure in your bladder.
You normally had to use the bathroom about every two hours at the latest. Your urethra was quite tight - You knew that, because your mother had dragged you to a gynecologist as a teen. She had been furious, because you had to use the bathroom so often as a child. She had often snapped at you. Sometimes she even made you wait and told you, you had to wait a certain amount of time, before you could use it. It always ended the same way. You on your knees, begging and pleading with her to let you pee. You could have just let go and peed yourself. As already mentioned, you weren't too proud. But that was a sore spot. More than twenty-three years later and it still was a sore spot.
Your mother sat beside you in the doctor's office, affectionately stroking your hair.
After the doctor finished his speech about the tight urethra, he began a new speech about the way one of your kidneys seemed to be a little slow. It worked, yes. But you had to spend your life going careful around salt and peeing.
My poor darling, she had murmured. I knew there was a reason you had to go so often. My poor, darling girl.
It wasn't normally a problem. Until yesterday, when the sadistic bastard had tied you up and left you like that for nine...fucking...hours.
Your body still hurt terribly, just thinking about it.
You had been tempted to let go and make a mess of yourself. Who cared after all? It was his fucking bed, his fucking clothes, his-
But you couldn't. You just couldn't.
So you had laid on that bed, cried and writhed for hours on end. By the time he came back, he wore the most surprised expression, because he had obviously expected you to let go and pee yourself.
He found you with your eyes swollen and your face puffy, but the bed was dry.
"Such a good girl." He had murmured and tenderly caressed your cheek. "My good girl."
By the time he uncuffed you, you nearly broke both legs jumping up and rushing towards the door. But his low voice brought you back to reality.
"Stop."
You stood frozen, facing away from him.
And then the softest "Please" passed past your lips.
He had been tempted to refuse you, you could tell. He was cruel, sadistic and simply fucking crazy. But for some reason, he had sighed, the sound almost making you sob.
"Go."
And that you did. It had been so painful and so terribly degrading, but you had managed. You had truly managed.
By the time you came back to your bedroom, he still sat on the edge of the bed. Just like the night before - you had expected him to get physical. But instead he simply beckoned you to come closer and instructed you to sit down on the floor before him.
So far he hadn't gotten physical. At least one good thing, you thought. He hadn't ravished you. Yet. Hadn't even tried to kiss you. Nothing.
Hesitantly, you had approached him and sat down on the floor, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs. God, you finally felt like a human again.
"Who are you?" He had asked in that gentle, silken voice.
"Your girl." The words were an obvious mantra, easily repeated all day if so he demanded. But to your horror, he tsked again and shook his head.
He had leaned closer until your faces almost touched and whispered: "You still don't mean it."
Your heart clenched tightly and you whispered: "Please, I-"
But he interrupted you by simply holding up his hand. His fingertips ran down your cheek in a gentle manner and you almost found yourself leaning closer.
Almost.
What two days of hunger and one day of bladder pain could do to you.
"Get in the closet." He instructed firmly.
You swallowed thickly.
"Please." You whispered again. Your desperate tone wasn't for show, the crack in your voice wasn't to manipulate him. You were truly exhausted. But he simply shook his head.
"Don't make me say it again."
You closed your eyes in defeat and buried your face in your hands for a moment. Then you nodded and carefully got up. Everything was a little giddy and dizzy, since the pancakes had been the last thing you ate. But you didn't complain. You weren't that stupid.
You had just been stupid enough to take his hand.
And get in his car.
And his fucking apartment.
If you had struggled, sure, he might have gone crazy and shot you. But was that really that much worse than the prospect of spending the rest of your life like this?
You moved into the closet, a tiny room with hardly enough space for you to stretch out your legs. He made you sit down and then he cuffed you up again. Sitting down, not laying down.
All the while he was in there with you, making sure the cuffs stayed in place, you had stared up at his face with the most desperate expression in your eyes.
Once he finished with the cuffs, all he did was glance down at you, almost gently and smile.
"Be a good girl and let me sleep tonight. Don't scream and shout like you did all morning."
You swallowed again and you couldn't hide the soft tremble of your lips.
"I'm afraid of the dark." You whispered.
He tilted his head to the side, almost thoughtfully. Then he hummed. You had grown to hate that sound.
"I wasn't going to turn off the lights, but well. You may thank yourself. Good night, sweet girl."
"No! Please!"
And with that the lights went out and the door closed.
Click.
You couldn't tell if he slept in your room, to make sure you stayed where you were or if he went to the other side of the hallway and slept in his own room. Whatever it was, you couldn't tell because you didn't hear a thing. All you heard was the sound of your own heavy breathing and the way it got interrupted by a sob every now and then.
It had been a few hours. You really couldn't tell how many. And every time you were about to fall asleep, you flinched and your head shot back up, suddenly all too aware of where you were and what was going on.
Until eventually your exhaustion got the better of you and you fell asleep, your face buried against your knees.
It was a restless sleep, haunted by the memory of the man on the train lines.
But at least you hadn't dreamt of your mother ever since.
Some time later, you were woken up when you felt his hand press down on your shoulder. You flinched so hard, you immediately got a headache. He chuckled at the sight.
"Good morning, sweet girl. Did you sleep well?" He purred.
You were so exhausted and straight-up annoyed that you were tempted to ignore him or give a snarky remark. But you decided against it. Also, you felt lightheaded by how hungry you were, so you simply looked up at him with a soft, timid look.
"Awww." He smirked as he slowly uncuffed you. "I slept just wonderful. You did a good job, keeping your pretty little mouth shut."
He yanked you to your feet, causing you to stumble against him. He instantly wrapped his arms around you and ran his hands over your back. It would have come off as soothing and affectionate, if he wasn't such a twisted bastard. But again, you endured the touch.
It wasn't like you were touch-starved. Not at all. You had never been with a man before, not in that way. But you missed kindness. You missed someone smiling at you in the morning. And if it was only your boss, wishing you a productive day. You missed people.
"Are you ready for your water bottle?"
When he saw the horrified look on your face, he laughed heartily.
"I'm just playing, sweet girl. It's not funny twice."
He carefully led you out of the closet and through the apartment.
"Are you hungry?" He murmured as he gently pressed a hand against the small of your back.
You felt yourself nod. It was obviously some kind of trick, because you were certain by now that you would soon die of starvation and that that had been his plan all along. But you still nodded.
Eventually you reached the kitchen, where the smell of food immediately filled your nostrils. The table was filled with food - rice, vegetables, some meat and fruit. You nearly blacked out at the sight.
"Come. Sit."
He sat you down a few feet away from the table. Of course. A trick. He'd probably make you watch while he ate or something like that.
He sat down opposite you and looked at you for a long moment.
"I'll ask you a question. And you'll answer. Truthfully. No second chances. If you answer to my liking, you get to eat. If you mess it up, you get punished."
You simply stared at him. It wasn't a question, so you didn't answer. Also, after three days of not eating anything - were it truly three days? How long had you been in that godforsaken closet? - you didn't really care about anything else.
"Good." He said calmly. "Are you a virgin?"
That seemed to pique his interest the most, because he stared at you intently, not even smirking for once.
Immediately you felt your face flush in embarassment, but you felt yourself nod.
"Yes." You whispered.
He leaned back in his chair and hummed softly. "You're not lying to me, are you?"
You quickly shook your head.
"How old are you again?"
"Twenty-four." You whispered in the same, weak voice.
"Delicious." He purred. Then he reached over and grabbed a spoonful of rice. When he held it out to you, you choked it down like a rabid animal.
"Careful. You'll get sick." He said in a tone that resembled gentleness. By now you knew there was nothing gentle about him. Nothing good.
But you pushed the thought back, when he fed you another spoon of rice. Two questions, two bites.
"What is the reason you live and work in a country where you don't even speak the language or know the way back to your apartment?"
You swallowed. "I got a good job offer."
"Bullshit." He narrowed his eyes. "The real reason."
You considered lying. But you were sure, for some reason, he would find out.
"To get away from my family." You then whispered.
He sighed in an exaggerated manner and set the spoon aside.
"Too bad, sweet girl. You deceived me the first time. You know the rules. I need to punish you."
You closed your eyes, albeit briefly. It was like they had a mind of their own and you were so exhausted that you could hardly take any more of this.
"You're lucky though. You get to pick your punishment."
Your brows furrowed suspiciously and he smiled.
"No deceit, sweet girl. You get to pick between two options. I'll give you ten seconds each time. If you don't choose on time, I choose for you."
You buried your face in your hands, but eventually you nodded.
His words felt like a gunshot.
"I slap your face or I cut off your hair. Choose."
You froze.
Fuck.
Of course you knew which one you'd pick. You couldn't cut off your hair. For various reasons. First off, it was deeply rooted into your mind that you needed to keep your hair long and lush.
Or else who would ever marry you, honey? No, no. You don't get to cut it off. Not ever. You wouldn't want to disappoint mama, hm?
And then again...Your hair was one of the few things you truly liked about your appearance. You liked the color, the texture...You just enjoyed looking at it whenever you felt bad about yourself. You played with it whenever you were nervous. It was your hair.
When he shot you an impatient look, you suddenly remembered the rules.
Three...two...
"Slap." You gasped out.
He leaned back and his smile widened.
"Are you sure?"
You nodded quickly.
"Smart girl." He purred, almost seductively. "Brave girl."
He didn't give you any time or sign to brace yourself. Instead he simply reached out and slapped your face, with an intensity that made your breath hitch. Your head snapped to the side and you let out a pained moan.
The pain of the slap stung. But not half as much as it would have if you had to cut off your hair.
He hummed. Bastard.
"Very well. Next question."
He sized you up calmly.
"Why did you want to get away from your family?"
You closed your eyes. "Well, they...Well, they..."
"That doesn't count. Disqualified."
Uh-oh.
"You never explicitly specified I had to answer straight-up." You said quietly.
Very slowly he inched forward until his forehead nearly touched yours.
"Are you talking back to me?"
"No." You breathed out.
"Good." He smirked. "I punch your gut or I cut off your hair. Choose."
You had a very bad feeling, like you knew what this game was leading to. The nausea that took hold of you felt suffocating.
"Punch." You croaked out.
No one had ever punched you before. And you had a feeling today would bring many more firsts.
"Hold up your hands."
Reluctantly you obeyed. He looked into your eyes, looking for any sign of disobedience. But all he found was fear.
He tsked disapprovingly.
"Anyone with brains would have chosen the hair." He said lowly. "But you're a pretty girl. I like your long hair." He slowly treaded his fingertips through the length of your hair. "So, you better do us both a favor and answer in time from now on."
With that you felt a sharp blow of pain when his fist shot forward and punched you right in the stomach. He wasn't gentle about it.
You doubled over and nearly fell off the chair. At the same time you let out a desperate sob and gasped for air.
The only thing you could suddenly think about was your slow kidney. Oh God, what if he damaged the good one?
You tried to push these thoughts away as good as you could. It wasn't easy.
You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. And he stared right back with something that looked almost like...pride.
"Why did you want to get away from your family?"
"Because my mother abused me." You gritted out.
Surprise flashed over his features. "How?"
"She starved me, didn't let me pee, hit me everywhere no one could see the scars, locked me in my room for days, yelled at me and many more things, many many more. Dark and twisted things, things you're never supposed to do to someone you supposedly care about. I bet you and her would have gotten along splendid." You couldn't tell who was more surprised about your sudden, angry outburst - you or him. He just stared at you and you half expected him to knock your teeth out.
Instead he slowly reached for the spoon and fed you two spoons rice with vegetables.
"Good girl." He said with no hint of teasing.
You savored the food in your mouth and swallowed slowly, ignoring his words. Mostly. But a part of you was almost relieved that he took so well to your anger.
"Have you ever had a boyfriend?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I'm scared of intimacy."
"Do you regret it?"
"Yes."
"Good girl."
Three spoonfuls, as promised.
"When was the last time you touched yourself?"
Your face flushed instantly, but you forced yourself to answer.
"The day before we met."
One spoon.
"What were you thinking about?"
You felt yourself go pale.
"What?"
He sighed disapprovingly.
"When you touched yourself. What did you think about?" He asked impatiently.
And you were silent. For three seconds. Five. And finally ten.
He stared at you with an intensity that was terrifying.
"Play the rest of the game on your knees or I cut off your hair."
Your cheeks grew warm in shame. But immediately, you slid down to your knees infront of him. The floor was cold, but that was the smallest one of your concerns. You couldn't meet his gaze as you knelt there.
Slowly and almost tenderly he reached down and tilted your chin up. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming. You couldn't quite detect or name the look in his eyes. All you knew was that it was intense and that it made your cheeks grow even warmer.
"Good girl." He whispered. "I'll ask you again."
At least he warned you.
"What were you thinking about while you touched yourself?"
"I fantasized."
"Specify."
You tried to avert your gaze but his grip on your chin was too tight. The expression in your eyes was pleading. But he didn't care. He didn't care one bit.
Suddenly you realized something. He didn't seem to care about the rules or the game any longer. He just wanted to know.
"I had..." Your eyes fluttered shut and your voice slipped into a barely audible whisper. "I had rough fantasies."
"Specify."
"Of being used." You finally choked out. The words felt like acid in your mouth. Never before had you told anyone about this, except for the one time when you spoke to your psychiatrist.
You had sobbed and nearly choked on your tears, claiming that you were twisted, odd, fucked in the head.
But all he had said in response was; many women have those fantasies. You're not twisted. You simply have desires which go ahead of the ordinary.
By the time you blinked your eyes open, you realized that he wasn't recoiling in disgust. He wasn't laughing at you. He didn't even flinch. He simply seemed curious.
"What else?"
"What...what else?"
"What else do you fantasize about that you consider shameful? Are your fantasies rough? Are they painful? Are they degrading? Are they-" He cut himself off and finally leaned back.
"You did good. Really good." He reached out and played with a strand of your hair. "You got lucky." He murmured. After a long sigh, he got up and said: "Eat up. But slowly. I can't have you puking all over yourself. I have plans for you."
You didn't need to be told twice. In a ridiculous speed you were back at the table and savored the food in your mouth, appreciating every bite.
He turned to leave the room, but stopped in the doorway and looked at you with a small frown.
"You got really lucky." He murmured to himself as he glanced at your form again.
"As did I."
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mercury2venus · 13 days ago
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CHAPTER 3
BACK 2 BACK
Warnings : straight SMUT, dirty talk. Real nasty y’all. MDNI.
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We fucked. I mean he had me hanging halfway off the balcony screaming to the entire city of New York just how good Kyle Alexander was fucking me. 
It was New Year's Day and I needed to get my story typed up as soon as possible. I creeped out of the bed picking up the articles of clothing I was stripped from. I looked around the room, drinking in its appearance. God...we did some freaky shit. After getting dressed and getting lost in his big ass penthouse I bid adieu to the maid. And slipped out of the place. 
Then I realized I didn't drive here. Shit. I ran back in and dialed the only person I could trust to keep this to themselves. 
" Hello Who is this ? " she answered.  Monica was my best friend and held me down through it all but I know this shit was going to be a topic with her for days. 
'It's Mecca." I mumbled. “Look I just need you to come pick me up I'm at a friend house and I'm honestly not trying to overstay my welcome.” I gave her the address and begged her to hurry. 
I heard Monica laugh and agreed to be on her way. 
I watched her cherry red Porsche pull up, bumping some Jodeci. She just had to draw attention while I tried to make a quiet escape. I got in the car and seen the smug look on her face. " So.." Monica held back a laugh. Who fuckin house is that ? " 
" Just drive Mo." 
That was 2 months ago. Kyle called and called. Sent roses, left voicemails. Wrote me letters. All asking what did he do wrong ? And Why am I avoiding him. The answer was guilt. I never slept with someone I interviewed. It was classless and I hate myself for it but the dick was so good I found myself in perpetual daydreams.
 
Today I was a guest speaker at NY Fashion institute the article I did on Kyle got the attention of well everyone. I was proud of it, it truly was my best one to date.
I tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear hoping my updo would stay in tact at least till I get back home.  
Speaking to the students was a dream come true, They were so engaged and really has alot of commentary.  
" Hi Ms. Ali , I'm Fallon Brooks, Junior. i just wanted to tell you that seeing a Black Woman in journalism owning her own magazine. calling the shots, showing the world that we are more than what the media shows is inspiring to this little Black girl from Atlanta, Georgia. You mean the world to us and i just really wanted to say Thank you so much. she laughed. 
I wanted to cry this is why I do it, for all my little Black girls who felt unheard, went unseen, their well deserved opportunities given to white mediocre counterparts. 
" Thank you...God I'm gonna cry." I laughed. I wiped my tears and smiled. 
After speaking to the students, I walked towards the bathroom I had somewhere to be in a bit and I wanted to make sure I looked great. 
" Mecca." 
Damn. So much for avoidance. I turned around with a small smile. His eyebrows raised as if he's waiting for an explanation. " Mr. Alexander ...Hi." I spoke. 
He tilted his head and walked towards me. He got close to my ear," After making you cum 5 times I'd think you'd refer to me as what I told you to call me." He said softly.
Cocky much ? 
" Having sex with you was a mistake I let my judgment get clouded. Thank you for granting me access to your mind and for doing the interview. I really appreciate that. Mr. Alexander ." I smiled. I had to set boundaries. 
Kyle looked at me. Those intense eyes of his narrowed. Just stared at me. 
" Mecca. I don't care about the other bullshit okay ? We had a great time, what's the real reason you've been avoiding me hm ? He said lowly. 
I looked him in the eye. 
" Young black woman on the come up from Harlem meets rich, playboy fashion designer.. I don't know I just don't need the world thinking some knight in shining armor came and helped me or I fucked my way to the top. I put in time and effort for this, I didn't grind the way I did back at Spelman just for someone to look at me and say it was because of You" I vented. 
Kyle's eyes were soft.  " Mecca — I, I'm sorry I didn't even think about that. Fuck. I just really like you love. I have a tendency of moving really fast. I apologize sincerely. "
I looked into his eyes.
Fuck it.
                                  ••••••
"Shit, you messing up my hair K."I moaned.  Shameless I was. Here I am butt naked back at his house getting fucked from the back  Kyle had my discombobulated my French roll and was now gripping my hair as he grinds into me 
" this shit is amazing Mecca. I was being nice earlier you keep this away from me next time I'm going to your house. Understand? "
I hated him. Everything about him irritates my fuckin soul. But God the way he was talking sent shockwaves to my core.  He put a leg and and got deeper 
" I said do you understand ?" He barked. 
My response was caught in my throat the only thing I was able to muster up was some incoherent sound. 
" yes baby, fuck I hear you." 
He pulled my head back to give me a sloppy French kiss. " good fuckin girl " he mumbled.
"Ky, I'm about to cum daddy. " I moaned
" hold it, not yet. Fuck this pussy is too good " 
Confidence filled me at that moment 
" careful this good ass pussy will have you acting crazy "
" too late Mecca " he laughed.
I let out a pornographic moan. He was saying all the shit I loved to hear. " mm yea this your pussy now " I whispered. He must have heard me because next thing I knew I was on my back with my legs at my ears.  " keep saying shit like that and I'll nut in you Mecca" Kyle warned.
" then do it baby nut in me " I egged him on
" you so fuckin nasty .." Kyle threw his head back, he pushed my legs further to my head and began to pound mercilessly. 
" what's my fuckin name Mecca, tell them who this good ass pussy belongs to."
“it’s yours daddy, it’s forever yours baby I swear “ I yelped. My eyes began to roll to the back of my head as he thrusted into me deeply.
“ it better be, that’s the shit I like to hear Mec. Tell me you love it here and you’ll never leave again” he spoke into my ear.
I won’t , Kyle..I won’t.” I whispered as I became undone.
At that moment I signed a deal with the devil.
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venus-haze · 1 year ago
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No Other Gods Before Me (Homelander x Reader)
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Summary: Love is everything. Love is God. Homelander is love. Maybe you are, too. 
Note: Gender neutral supe reader, and no descriptors are used. Takes place in season 1 during the Believe Expo. Inspired by Starlight’s comment that she didn’t have a crush on Homelander growing up because “he was like Jesus or something.” I'm sorry it took me so long to write another Homelander fic! Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1k
Warnings: Extremely unhealthy relationship, power imbalance (unclear as to who, as the reader has unspecified psychic powers), warped elements of Christianity. Do not interact if you’re under 18.
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Homelander saw them clear as day. The tears welling up in your eyes as you walked down to the baptismal pool. He barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. For all of his pandering, he was never fond of religious types–especially religious supes. You should know better than to buy into this bullshit, a cheap substitute for simple minds that couldn’t comprehend the modern gods that put the miracles of every religious text to shame.
Still, he held out his gloved hand for you to take, and you did, gingerly, as if his physical presence would be too much to bear. 
Homelander had his fair share of admirers, but the reverent gleam in your eyes was nothing short of disarming. His name came from your lips in a soft, pious prayer before you hit the water.
You emerged from the chlorinated depths reborn, staring at him in a moment of blissful awe. “You are love,” you whispered, only loud enough so he could hear. And it stunned him. So much so that he couldn’t protest when you were ushered out of the pool, wet clothes clinging indecently to your skin. You disappeared with your fresh towel, and he resisted the urge to drown the rest of the devout in line to find you.
There was still time. Believe Expo wasn’t quite over yet. Surely you’d still be milling about, in some ridiculous prayer circle or buying one of the cheap trinkets the numerous grifters shilled. He’d never read the Bible, not all of it. Bits and pieces to understand what people were talking about, and a few feel-good verses up his sleeve for speeches and interviews. None of it made him understand what all of the fuss was about, anyway. Why his birthday wasn’t a months-long celebration, a cultural phenomenon. All Vought gave him was a TV special and a cake. It wasn’t the spectacular frenzy that people anticipated all year.
His fists clenched. 
He found a volunteer who didn’t look all that busy, and offered a selfie with them before asking a favor. People would do just about anything for him, regardless, but posing his demands as if they were helping him out tended to get things done faster. As soon as the words left his mouth, the volunteer set off to find you. He retreated to his dressing room, waiting impatiently for your arrival.
“Isn’t he wonderful?” you asked, your distant voice growing louder as you approached.
“Homelander’s the best,” the volunteer agreed.
“Don’t you feel it?”
“Feel what?”
“That warmth when you’re in his presence, something divine.”
“Well, he was chosen by God.”
“You don’t get it at all, do you,” you said, disappointment evident in your voice, just on the other side of his dressing room door.
He tried not to appear too eager when you entered, though you were in different clothes than before. Couldn’t expect you to spend the rest of the day walking around in soaking wet clothes, though part of him hoped you would.
“I knew we’d see each other again,” you said, not at all surprised by him summoning you.
He tilted his head, regarding you with suspicion. You didn’t seem like you were fucking with him, but he couldn’t be sure. “In the baptismal pool, you said I was love.”
You nodded. “Love is eternal. Love can conquer anything.”
“Love is God,” he said.
“I prayed to you, because I knew you could hear me,” you confessed quietly. “You’re the one.”
Your sincerity was genuine, the way your heart beat in time for him, tearful eyes glistening with an unprecedented devotion. Without an outstretched, gloved hand, he cupped your cheek, caressing it in his first act of blessing. Anointing you first. A ragged breath emerged from his parted lips. His dove, his lamb, his to guide and nurture the way these abstract figments couldn’t. You would be his Mary Magdalene, his Saint Paul, unceasingly devoted in your worship of him, proselytizing the good word to the masses. 
And why shouldn’t they worship him? Look at him with the same admiration and awe that you did? Power in the blood, his blood, to save and damn as he saw fit. After all, he didn’t need to die to offer salvation. No great sacrifices on his part to provide for those who were worthy. The sky had been empty when he explored it, all the way up past the atmosphere, farther than anyone could possibly go until he reached the vast emptiness of space itself and found himself alone. Homelander wasn’t an unknowable god. He walked among the masses, pandered to their sensitivities because he knew just how small and insignificant they were.
He’d read about the more extreme acts of devotion to gods in the past. Self-flagellation. Human sacrifice. Vows of poverty. Pathetic and desperate attempts to appease a supposedly powerful higher being who did nothing to help his people when they cried out for him. But Homelander was there. And just like you’d said, he could hear everything. He required so much less of people yet offered so much more. 
“You’re the only one who sees me for what I am,” he murmured. 
You nodded gently, your cheek rubbing against his glove. 
He leaned in to kiss you, and you reciprocated without hesitation, pressing your lips to his, allowing yourself unprecedented closeness with the divine. Consume and be healed, forgiven, saved. Kissing you felt purposeful, made his heart race and his brain feel fuzzy.
Warmth washed over him, and for a moment the suspicious part of him wondered if this divine haze was related to your powers. Something about being able to get into people’s heads, mess with their emotions. He wasn’t sure. There was no reason for you to be on his radar before the spiritual encounter.
When you whispered his name against his lips like a prayer, he nearly choked. Devout. Unconditional. He held onto you tightly, lips attached to yours in his own act of worship.
Love was everything. Love was God. Homelander was love. Maybe you were, too. 
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years ago
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Eddie's palms were sweating like crazy. There used to be moments when he was gratetul for this less obvious sign of nervousness, but at times like this it was bloody inconvenient. The chalk dust clung to his fingertips as he worked on his summoning circle under the archmage's watchful eye, an eye that was waiting for a single mistake that would warrant another disqualification. A third one in the last three years.
It was all bullshit as his best friends Nancy and Chrissy had told him. They both were younger and had the same skill. Sure, Nancy's intellect was through the roof and Chrissy studied with a rigid motivation of someone who wanted to leave their stifling family behind, but Eddie wasn't bad at all. Hell, he grasped the intricacies of magic almost naturally and in another world, he would have been praised, supported by all his peers and professors.
Yeah, right. That would be a world where he wasn't a filthy commoner.
Sure, magic didn't choose blood or status or a full set of silver cutlery in one's mouth, but oh did the upper class love to pretend. "We have magic in our bloodline," they lied through their teeth. And so when a kid of a petty thief showed magic potential surpassing the one of their coddled kids, they were aghast. They scoffed at his long unruly hair, at his cheap dark clothes, at the extra shifts his uncle had to take to keep him in the academy. They tried to get rid of him so many times, unfair test questions, discriminatory behavior, bullying...Eddie saw it all and guess what, he didn't care. As his wise uncle told him "they see you as a cockroach, boy. So become one. Show them how persistent you can be, make them wish they let you graduate."
Eddie adored his uncle, if that wasn't clear. That man was hard working and smart. If the world was worth anything, he would have been an alchemist, with his precise mind and nimble hands. But since world was shit and unfair, he was just a helper for one, although a great and kind one, Scott Clarke. Eddie was happy for his uncle, for the companionship he found in Scott, but there was inherent bitterness in him that wouldn't leave.
See, the issue with Eddie was - he had no clear goal, no illuminated path in his future. He wanted to explore magic, see what it had to offer. Where others had a clear destination, like Nancy with her passion for magical channels of communication or Chrissy and her focus on healing magic and diagnostics, Eddie was...untethered. He wanted to do anything and everything and he worried that this would be his downfall this time too. Because that's exactly what the whole summoning ritual hinged on.
Eddie wiped his hands on his pants, earning a disapproving scoff from the archmage. "Magic demands grace and dignity," that's what the asshole always said before elegantly wiping his mouth with a napkin or drying his sweaty brow with a white handkerchief. Eddie wanted to kick him in the shin and see how elegant he looked toppling over.
Just a few more chalk lines, no use in delaying the inevitable. This was the final exam of the senior year, but also a crucial skill that Eddie simply had to master. Because each mage needed a companion from the other side, that was the law. It didn't matter if you summoned a fae, a zephyr, a demon or even a wailing ghost of your grandma who decided to stay in the world beyond instead of moving on, you needed a companion to help with channeling of magic, amplifying it. Some mages kept the same companions for decades, other went through a series of brief companionships to find what they needed.
If Eddie only knew what he needed. That's what he was supposed to do - enter the circle, open a gate to the other world and project his ambitions, his desires. Which were, as usual, all over the place.
"I'm ready," he told the archmage as he stood up and dusted off his hands, creating more white smears on his pants.
The older man just rolled his eyes. He seemed to be in his fifties, with thick hair and just one or two strands of grey. But who knew, magic didn't really make aging normal. "I will believe it when I see it, Mr. Munson. You have yet to surprise me."
Eddie bit back a scorching remark and cracked his fingers, getting ready. He forced on a wide smile and waved at his friends who had, as expected, aced the exam. Nancy was chatting with her companion, a storm elemental (her name was Robin, as he would learn later, and she could speak so fast only Nancy was able to understand). Chrissy stood next to a tall dryad, Barbara, and gave Eddie a thumbs up, beaming at him. "You got this!" she mouthed at him and, with a brief whisper, made Barbara join in a very awkward cheer.
"Okay, here I go," muttered Eddie and entered the circle. His fingertips sparkled as he touched the prepared runes, activating them. He had one brief moment to take it all in, the scowl on the archmage's face, Nancy's quiet and confident smile and Chrissy's radiance, before the runes rose in a circle around him and obscured everything.
He blinked at the swirling colors around him, whispered voices. "Hello?" he called out, hearing the echo of his own voice. "My name is Eddie...um. I mean, Edward Munson and I am searching for a companion."
The voices sounded closer, but not close enough. He hadn't offered anything yet, so he wasn't too discouraged. "Um. I am looking for someone who would like to explore the world of magic with me. The possibilities it has and who is maybe looking to find themselves too..."
His voice trailed off. He sounded silly even to himself, not to mention to the creatures, spirits and demons in the realm. But just as he was about to quickly make up a goal, just to attract someone, he heard whispering in his ear. It sounded both melodic and dissonant, single and split. "You're intriguing. Intriguing enough to consider your offer. Say, Eddie. You seem open to everything, but...is there something that you really, really want? A desire you have? Something a companion could help you accomplish?"
Had Eddie been someone with a milder temperament, he would have explained how he hoped his success would open the door for more people like him, to change how elitist magic was. But he wasn't that, he was Eddie and he didn't feel like starting his first companionship with a lie.
"I want to succeed so much that the archmage will lose all of that fucking powdered hair," he grinned into the swirling void. "I want him to look at me, the first trash commoner mage, and know that despite being way more powerful and influential and whatever else, he couldn't get that scrawny kid to quit, no matter how many times he unfairly failed me. I want to make him feel like he's sucking on a lemon whenever he sees me. I want to become a living proof that he was wrong."
There was laughter in his ears and this time he realized - it wasn't one voice but two. One seductive and feminine, the other amused and slightly bitchy, belonging to a man.
"Well, Eddie," whispered the woman and Eddie shivered from her warm breath.
The man leaned in too, into his other ear. "We can help you with that."
And just like that, the magical void dissolved and two warm hands found their way into his.
Eddie emerged into the great hall to a series of gasps, cheers and curses. Chrissy was jumping up and down on her toes, clapping. Nancy seemed to be stuck between shock and serious amusement. And the archmage...well. That was something else.
But Eddie had manners so instead of reacting to any of them, he turned towads his companions. Two beings at once wasn't exactly common and Eddie had to understand who exactly he invited into his life.
He didn't have to recall much of his lectures on the other world to realize that his companions were demons. And not just any type, no. He gulped as he offered his hand again. "Thank you for answering my call. As I said before, I'm Eddie. Human, obviously."
The female demon was almost as tall as him, but unlike him she was gorgeous. Her thick brown hair fell to her strong shoulders in gentle waves and her amber eyes sparkled with mischief. She had moles and beauty marks all over her beautiful face. "Pleasure to join you, Eddie. Stevie, a succubus." She winked at him and shook his hand. "Obviously," she whispered.
She nudged him to the male demon, eerily similar to her, but where she was seductive he was snarky. Which...was doing equal things to Eddie's insides. Not only. "Steve," he said and squeezed his hand with a deliciously calloused hand. "Not a succubus, obviously, but an incubus. Pleasure indeed."
Eddie felt a bit manic. The wide smile on his face was starting to hurt but he couldn't bring himself to care and when Stevie used her tail to examine the chains on his belt, he wondered if the butterflies in his stomach weren't actually a stomach infection. "Uh...sorry if that's a stupid question, but are you...are you twins?"
He expected a scoff or a simple yes, but the look that Stevie and Steve exchanged wasn't clear at all. He wondered if he might have offended them, but Steve ended up throwing his arm around Eddie's shoulders and pulled him close. Yep, definitely a stomach bug because the butterflies were off the charts. "That's a bit complicated. We'll explain in a bit, but now..." The bitchy smirk on Steve's face was everything and as he whispered into Eddie's ear, Eddie couldn't help but snort. This was pure gold.
Standing between his companions and wrapping each arm around their waists, Eddie smiled at the archmage, pale and looking like he was ready to vomit all over his summoning circle.
"So, archmage Harrington," drawled Eddie and Stevie snickered next to him, "have I finally managed to surprise you?"
As Steve and Stevie raised their hands and, in a single voice, said sweetly "hi dad!", Eddie felt like his goal of giving the old pompous fart a heart attack was just within reach.
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potatomountain · 1 year ago
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*739 San
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*739 Masterlist
Synopsis: with sex work legal, it was as readily available as texting *739, filling out the form sent, and setting a time and place with an easy charge to your credit card. Even the more hefty kinks could be fulfilled with a professionalism that was respected, and could be addicting.
Word count: 8.5k (22pages)
Warnings below cut! taglist at the bottom
Smut warnings: Pet play, praise, degradation, san x fem reader, switch san, switch reader, strength play, use of toys, pet names, masturbation, cum play, cum eating, overstimulation, squirting, oral (fem receiving), paid sex, sex worker, some impact play, some predator/prey play, mirror sex, some choking- let me know if i missed any!
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"I don't think this is going to work out." Your current, well now ex, boyfriend spoke from across the cafe table. When he had asked to meet up at a cafe neither of you had been to, you had expected this. Really you had seen this coming for weeks.
Frowning down at your drink of choice, not as good as your usual from your favorite cafe, you shrugged. "Do I get an explanation? Or, let me guess." Setting the cheap cup down you lifted your gaze to the man across you, brows pulled down. "I'm too independent? I don't seem to have time for you, too cold? Too demanding? You probably feel inferior to me right? Making six figures a year, nicer apartment, nicer car, barely any shared interests, and I don't satisfy you enough?"
With each word his cheeks grew red with anger, hand tight around the cup. "You really think you are so high and mighty? That you are that much better than me? Have to rub it in constantly? Fucking Bitch." He stood, slamming the coffee down and spilling it on the table and his hand. He just cursed once more before storming off.
And you didn't care. 
If anything you were upset with yourself. Every time you dated you had gone by their terms. Wearing clothes they liked, spending so much of your money on dates and gifts, only for them to fuck you poorly and treat you like a trophy wife once you've invested enough.
Their love and attention was always conditional, and at this point you were beginning to wonder if it was worth it.
Sighing, you stood up and headed for the counter with the intent of getting one more drink to go. Sure it wasn't your usual, it wasn't as good, but it was good enough and you needed the extra boost. The line was just a tad longer than it had been moments ago unfortunately, a few chatterboxes behind you.
"Seriously you need to check it out! I thought it was bullshit until I tried it." A pair of girls were huddled together, and a quick curious glance showed they were huddled around their phones. "Like look at him! He's model quality and it felt like living through the perfect porn scene!"
"It must have been expensive though… for this type of quality. My roommate goes to the one downtown sometimes and she said even those were pricey as hell and mediocre."
"Oh please. This is worth it I promise. You wanna get over that bad ex of yours? Get a good dick down, and this is the place to do it."
Keeping your eyes forward you were tempted to ignore the conversation, but the girl's words intrigued you more than anything else. Get over a bad ex huh?
With determination you turned to look at the girls, startling them. "What are you two talking about? I'm curious."
The two girls looked at each other, then the one holding the phone looked back at you. "The sex hotline, star seven three nine. Don't you know about it?" 
"The biggest selection of sex workers out there, and apparently the best according to her." The other spoke, pointing to her friend.
A sex worker? Would that really dull the ache? Help with the bitterness dating had instilled in you? It would be an arrangement on your terms, transparent and nothing with-held. A simple transaction, a contract, no different than one of your own business contracts right? 
"Now why didn't I think of that. Huh." It was such a brilliant idea you were stumped that you hadn't thought of it as an option. "Order whatever you like off the menu girls, it's on me." Feeling a bit invigorated you turned back to the counter, a cat-eyed boy on the other side with broad shoulders. "As for me, I'll have another one of these." 
"Sure thing ma'am." He was quick to ring you up, the two girls behind you eager to take you up on your offer and ordering as well. "Quite a generous deed ma'am."
You shrugged at his words, looking him over slowly. "I give rewards as I see fit."
"And their gossip about a sex hotline is deserving?" He questioned without any malice, mere curiosity and an innocent look in his eyes. He reminded you of a kitten, fearless and adorable, just wanting to play right before they sink their claws into your knees to try and do so.
"They've given me an answer to a problem I have, no matter how unconventional, so yes I think it is." You looked at the two girls and gave them a half smile. "Actually, I wouldn't mind hearing more details about this sex hotline and your experiences. Do you have time?"
"Sure! We were going to do some school work anyway." The first girl spoke up, only to be elbowed by the second. "I was going to help my friend sign up. You get a first timer discount."
"Interesting…" Humming to yourself you turned back to the cashier and held out your card to pay. "What about you, cashier boy? Have you tried the service?"
He shook his head. "Can't say I have, hard to afford it with a cafe job like this. But I've heard very good things. They're professional and as the girls said have a wide variety of workers. I think all kinks are on the table too and they take it very seriously."
"Oh they do! I had to Google a lot of the kinks listed because I never heard of them before. Did you know they'll even do some of the more dangerous kinks? I wasn't sure that was legal." The experienced girl whispered to you.
"Anything is legal if you word the paperwork right." You countered, eyes on the man as he handed back your card. "Thank you."
"No problem ma'am. Food and drinks will be right out, and good luck with your experience. Can I get a name for the order?"
You gave your name as you pocketed your card, only for one of the girls behind you to gasp. "Hm?"
"I thought you looked familiar! You run a few cat homes don't you?" 
"Oh so you are a big business woman?" The first girl wiggled her brows. "You probably could afford the best of the best on the hotline."
You shrugged, thinking it over. "Maybe, but I'm not that wealthy. Those cat homes are paid for out of my pocket, you know, and I do hope to open more." On a subject you were passionate about you followed the girls over to a table and awaited your order.
You liked cats a lot, they were aloof and independent and strong-willed. They gave love on their conditions, and when they did they ended up the most loyal and adorable companions without sacrificing any of their personal space or personality. Often compared to cats, they were kindred spirits to you.
It was perhaps because of your love of cats you glanced back at the man at the counter. Cat-like eyes, a cheshire grin, broad shoulders and a bit of himbo energy… he reminded you of the beloved felines.
Maybe you didn't need a boyfriend, a companion like a pet would be better wouldn't it?
.
.
.
You spent a bit of time at the cafe with the two girls, getting their number and even offering to pay for the other girl's first time if your own really was amazing as her friend said. You filled out the kinks you were interested in, built a satisfying profile for yourself, filled out the waivers and paperwork and just when it got time to schedule your session you realized the time.
So you rushed it.
When greeted with an option to be surprised by who the company picked or view and pick one yourself, you just hit surprise and quickly paid and set your time for later that night. You weren't one to wait around, instead you like to charge head first especially when it came to an idea that, so far, had no cons to it whatsoever.
Curiosity also killed the cat and you were one curious woman.
But you were also a businesswoman, throwing yourself into your meetings and reviewing contracts, going over budgets and coming up with new plans for your business; the day went by fast without a second thought to your scheduled night.
At least not until you were on the drive home and a call came in. Connected to your Bluetooth, you answered thinking it was perhaps someone in the office. Your name being called through the car speakers by a somewhat familiar voice only solidified that thought. "Yes, what is it?"
"My name is San, I'm calling about our session tonight? To confirm some things?"
For a moment your mind was drawing a blank, going over your mental schedule for the day before letting out a little “Ah” when the light bulb lit up. “That’s right, I had nearly forgotten. Please go ahead with what you have to say San.” You kept your tone light, no different than if you were discussing terms for a contract. While it was technically a contract, the nature of it should have you treating this a bit differently than normal; truth be told it was no different to you.
“Right… the purpose of this call is just to go over the list of kinks and go over safety measures and any disclosures, as well as map out the scene you had in mind.” His voice rang through the bluetooth of your dash, your eyes on the road as the information felt pretty basic to you.
“Understandable, you may continue.”
You could hear a bit of a chuckle on the other end, the sound drawing your attention. “I have the feeling you prefer to be the one in charge of the scene, is that correct?”
After mulling it over for a moment you answered. “Yes and no. I’m used to relinquishing command in the bedroom but it’s only gotten me into some… poor excuses for a good time. For this session I hope I can be honest and forthcoming with my desires and that they will be met, but I am not one to ask my partner to give up their own for mine either.”
The line went silent and for a moment you questioned if the call was dropped.
“I see, this explains the pet play.”
“Does it? How so?”
“Pet play is a bit more endearing than slave/master dynamics, leaning more towards mutual agreements and praise. You want someone who is going to enjoy doting and pleasing you.”
“Or I have a thing for furries.”
He chuckled at your nonchalant retort. “Maybe. I think you have a clear image of what you want. Perhaps you can describe it to me first?”
Biting down on your lip you pulled to a stop at a red light, thinking over the boxes you had checked out. “I want… I want to be in command. To coo and wiggle my finger and my lover would be eager to come. They’d get off on how many times they could make me come, how good they could fuck me, and they would listen to every command I give during. No expectations of what I can do for them, if I said bark they just would. But I think I’d prefer a cat.” Your finger was tapping on the steering wheel, imagining the scene with a faceless man at first. “Toys, tongue, hands, cock- they would use these and more. I think I’d love to see them beg for me, for a taste, for a touch. Every woman wants to be worshiped and desired, I just don’t want to feel as if they are becoming less of themselves to do it.”
His humming pulled you out of your monologue just in time to hit the gas when the light turned green. “I think I can do that just fine. Now that I have an idea of what you would like, let’s go over a list first. Just a simple yes or no will work, is that alright?”
“Yes.”
“Sweet. I’ll start with the first thing that comes to mind. Pet play is usually accompanied by the pet donning on lingerie or items to make them appear like a pet. Since you prefer a cat, would you like me to have on items to fit that image?”
You hadn’t thought that far, but now your mind ran with the idea to an alarming decree. Cat ears, a leash and collar… perhaps a tail. It was enticing to say the least. “Yes.”
“I’ll list the items I am comfortable wearing for these. Please respond accordingly. Cat ear.” You replied yes to almost them all, saying no to paws but agreeing to a tail anally inserted. The pleased hum he had given in reaction was almost like a purr.
You were beginning to get excited for this session on a new level.
“Next- toys. Vibrators?”
“Yes.”
“Anal plugs used on you?”
“Yes.”
“Dildos?”
“Yes.”
“I would like to let you know that for toys to use on me, vibrators will suffice.”
“What about cock rings? Pocket pussy? Are those on the table?”
“Do you want them to be?”
“Hm… that’s a maybe.” You didn’t want to write it off, who knows how this session was going to.
“Then yes I am as well. I will be supplying the toys for the session. Some other kinks to go over. Since you are going to be the one in command, I will follow each kink up with a yes or no of my own. Is that alright?”
“Yes, that’s understandable.” How you were managing this conversation while driving home was unbeknownst to you. Each second that passed had you more eager for the coming session.
“Very well, I’ll start with choking. Yes.”
You weren’t that surprised by his answer somehow. “No.”
“Impact play. Yes.”
A smile pulled on your lips as you imagined just how you could use that. “Depends on context.”
“How so?”
“I am not one for receiving punishment. For other situations I can’t say I’ve experienced it to know if I enjoy it but I am not against it.”
“Very well. Dacryphilia? Yes."
"Yes."
“Overstimulation? Yes”
“Yes.”
"Bondage? Yes"
The more this list continued the more you were looking forward to this. "On myself, no. But using it- yes"
“My, I really am the bottom here huh?” He chuckled and you found it charming.
“That works for me. I think I’d enjoy seeing you a mess, San.”
There was a sputter on the other end that had your smile widening. You had noticed a gradual breathlessness to his voice the longer the conversation went on, and now that you were pulling up to your garage you could focus a bit more on that. “I’m not opposed to that either. Cumeating? Yes.”
“Yes.”
“I was beginning to think you don’t like being the one who is a mess.” Now there was a smirk to his tone.
“Not particularing but I am not against it. I want to see if you can make a mess of me.”
“Ah, prideful huh? Well, how does strength play sound? I like using it.”
“Are you strong then, San? I’m excited to see you use that.”
He chuckled a bit breathless. “We’re getting away from yes or no answers. Let’s move onto safety measures. I’m partial to the color system; red for stop, yellow for slow, green for good. But you also filled out the safe word. Can you repeat to me what you put down?”
“Calico.”
“You really do like cats.”
This time his comment had you flustered. “Perhaps. Does everything check out so far San?”
“One last thing. Are there any titles or pet names you would like used in the scene?”
You hadn’t thought about it, but like some other things he had brought up your mind ran wild with the ideas. “Miss or Ma’am. I’d like to refer to you as kitty.”
“Noted. That checks off everything. I’m obligated to inform you that since you have it checked that unprotected sex is alright, you did sign a nondisclosure writing off all rights and responsibilities on our end should this session result in a pregnancy. Is that understood?”
“Very much so. I just arrived at my home, we still have a half hour until the scheduled time, correct? Is it alright if we end the call here so I can prepare?”
“I was just about to ask the same. Yes, if there is nothing else you want to discuss now, any other questions can wait until my arrival. We’ll start the scene when you are ready, as I’ll be at your mercy from the moment I step into your home. Is that clear?”
“Crystal. I’ll see you shortly Kitty.” You didn’t wait for a reply before hanging up, turning your car off and practically rushing into your home. You had limited time to prepare both yourself and the space you wanted for the scene, not sure if thirty minutes would cut it but you were determined to try. 
Shoes kicked off just inside the door, you headed for your bedroom. Thankfully you were meticulous about your space and not much would need to be cleaned, but you did switch out your bedding for the night, throwing your old sheets in the wash before putting on your nicer black silken sheets. You also took care of the plethora of stuffed cat animals, setting the current chosen one back in the net with the others. You debated on hiding the stuffed animals but what was the point? You did not care what opinion this San would have of you as long as he did what you were paying him for.
That just left yourself. Stepping into your master bathroom, you made quick work of your clothes into the hamper and stepped into the shower, washing up in a timely manner and going so far as to tidy up every hair on your body to match your usual proper and clean image.
Your conversation with your soon-to-be-sex-partner popped back into your head, remembering the part of being a mess. Yes, you weren’t one who liked being a mess, but needless to say you wanted to see if he could make one out of you: to achieve something that none of your exes had ever come close to, but you could manage on your own with your own toys. You still had your doubts, it was a pretty specific fantasy and there were parts you just didn’t think a stranger could pull off.
It would be a win in your book if he could manage half of your fantasy, so you kept your hopes up.
After a quick skin care routine and some lotion and moisturizer, you debated on even wearing clothes for this. It hadn’t been discussed, and you didn’t see much of a point but- you had implied you wanted to make a mess out of him. Having a pet that would go feral over you was quickly becoming a fantasy you wanted to see brought to fruition.
So you opted for a lingerie robe. You had a few that went with a few sets, all things you had bought for previous relationships, and chose a simple silk and lace black one that cut off mid thigh but hung over your hands. Simple, elegant, and with just a pull of the sash you would be naked.
Perfect.
Just in time as the doorbell rang, signaling the beginning of the rest of the night. Passing your bedroom mirror you took one last look at yourself, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you headed for the front door. You only briefly glanced at the security monitor next to it, spotting wide shoulders and a black cap from the upper angle of your camera. You thought nothing of it, unlocking the deadbolt and swinging the door open, knowing the robe covered enough to be modest just in the unforeseen event that this man wasn’t San.
Your first thought was that it wasn’t, eyes finding familiar ones and going wide. “You?”
Those memorable cat-like eyes from the cafe widened under the cap, just as taken back as you were. “Well this is awkward…”
However, the irony of the situation had you laughing, leaning against the door as you dragged your gaze over the length of him. From those sharp features, a collar around his neck with a cute golden bell, a tight black shirt that was form fitting of his broad shoulders and small waist down to the ripped jeans were snug around his waist but showed off some of his toned legs underneath. He was, by all means, even more attractive than he had been in the cafe.
“Hm, a little bit but I think this is just a bonus for me. Come in will you?” Taking a step back you held the door open for him. Having a face to go along with the voice and conversation just reignited your excitement for this evening.
Thrown off by your words, San eyed you a bit skeptical as he stepped inside, a duffle bag in his hand that you hadn’t noticed before. “A bonus?”
Shutting the door and securing the lock you nodded. “Yes. Truth be told you were what I had in mind for this, or at least someone of your stature and energy. Who knew choosing random would result in such a lucky find.” You practically purred out as you turned to him, eyes racking over his back. When you looked back up he was looking over his shoulder watching you, the cap blocking the light from reaching his eyes so you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “However, if that knowledge makes things too awkward for you to perform, I expect either a refund or a new pet to take your place. So does it bother you kitty?”
You weren’t mistaken when you saw his jaw clench, his movements slow but tantalizing as he turned to face you. “Not at all, I take my job very seriously Ma’am. In fact I find our prior acquaintance to be a bonus as well. Truth be told, when I saw your name on the customer form I had hoped it was you.” He admitted.
Now that was unexpected, your eyes wide as saucers as you processed this information. “Oh? Does that mean you were wanting this even before I signed up?” At his nod you let out a pleased sound, closing the distance between you two. “Well, kitty, follow me to my room and we can discuss just how you want to start this. I think you are deserving of a reward, since you are already playing so well into what I want.”
You led the way with your head held high and a giddy smile on your lips. This new information had this session feeling even more real, more exciting. He wanted you enough he hoped you were the one who had arranged for this session, and lucky for the both of you that you were. 
You didn’t need to look back to know he was following, at first hearing him shuffle his shoes off and then catch up to you with ease. He was broad enough you could see him in your peripheral vision, his footsteps soft for his size. “Ma’am… this session is about you, pleasing you is enough of a reward.” 
Unsure if that was true or just him being a professional, you shook your head and glanced back. “We’ll see about that. Even pets want attention and love their way. So-” Opening your bedroom door you stepped inside and right over to the large bed, “-I’ll let you decide how we start. You have that big bag there, you have your hands, mouth, cock; if pleasing me is what you want, then you can choose the first way you do it. I mean, after you get rid of your clothes.”
Dropping the duffle bag on the chair by your mirror, San kept his eyes glued on you. “Well, you reward what you think is deserving, and you’re always straight to the point, hm? I knew that from the cafe, and just like I thought it’s going to make this even more exciting.” He pulled off his cap first, then his shirt, tossing both next to the duffle bag. The bell on his collar jingled when he had discarded his shirt, taking your mind down a delicious thought process: Would it jingle with each thrust?
The temptation to find out was nearly overwhelming, but you kept your cool as you sat on the bed and crossed one knee over the other. This was business, at least that was how you had viewed it; now the lines were getting a little blurred as you took in every inch of him with a hungry gaze. “My my such an eager kitty, but where are your cat ears?”
His hands paused on the button of his jeans, lips spreading into a wide grin you were already coming to enjoy as he reached for the bag. A second later he was securing cat ears into his red hair, cute bows on them that almost made the look comical… almost. Hands back on his jeans he made quick work of them, kicking them off and leaving him in nothing. The lack of underwear surprised you, but it made sense when you saw a black fur tail dangling between his legs. It only had your attention for a split second, eyes drawn to what wasn’t hanging in the front but stood up tall.
You almost caught yourself drooling. Biting down on your lip, you shifted both feet on the ground, content with watching him. He seemed too preoccupied to notice your reaction, turning his back to you and giving you quite the view of where the tail was inserted. You’ve never seen that on a man, certainly not on one built like he was, but you certainly did not dislike it.
“Ah, here it is!” Turning back to you he held a toy in his hand, a silicone bullet with the elongated tail and button. “I like this one for starters.” He strode right over to you, setting the toy on the bed as he hunched over just enough, eyes seemingly innocent and an excitable grin. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret Ma’am. See I decided that if it was you, I’d ignore the time limit. Sure you paid for two whole hours, and I’m sure that might be enough, but I want to make a mess out of you and I don’t plan to stop until I have. Even if it takes all night.”
The low declaration had heat coursing through you, brightening your cheeks a few shades of pink and lips parting to either gape or answer. You couldn’t get your brain to function fast enough to decide before his lips were on yours, a ghost of a touch at first but with each stroke he added more pressure, more desire.  
Part of you wanted to stay in control, to push him away and command him, but mostly you were perfectly content with the heated kisses. Reaching up you grabbed both the collar and his hair, pulling him closer and spreading your legs for him when he nudged your knee with his knuckles.
You memorized the way he tasted, almost like he drank a coffee on the way over, mingled with the chapstick he had on his lips. The combination wasn’t bad, in fact it was almost intoxicating, something about it making you want to kiss him more. So focused on his lips that the touch to your pussy had you shivering, his finger sliding over your slick folds and a chuckle vibrating against your lips. “Miss is so excited hm? I wonder how easily this toy is going to slip in.”
Curiosity had you pulling your lips away to look down, both of you watching as he pushed the silicone bullet vibrator inside, the small toy disappearing between your folds. He used his fingers to push it deeper, causing your breath to hitch as he stretched you out. He didn’t pull them out right away, instead curling them to tease you, a groan falling from his lips that was like music to your ears. You weren’t even touching him and he was making sounds like that? Breathing a bit rapidly just as you were? From inserting a toy and his fingers inside you?
Now this could get addicting. HE could get addicting. 
Spreading your legs further you leaned back on your hands, biting down on your lip as you watched him pull the two fingers out and bring them to his mouth. He didn’t tear his gaze from your cunt, and yours was glued to his tongue wrapping around the two fingers sucking them clean.
He definitely knew what he was doing. “Kitty, put on a leash for me will you.” Lustful eyes flicking up to yours, he purred around his index finger before standing up and walking back over to the duffle bag. He pulled out the leash, turning “Bring the bag. I don’t need you leaving me every time you want to grab a new toy to use.”
“Mm good point.” Grabbing the bag he set it down next to the bed before attaching the leash to the collar he wore. He held out the other end to you, immediately being pulled on top of you when you gave it a tug. He managed to catch himself with a hand on either side of you, his breath against your cheek as you locked eyes. “Yes?”
With a devilish smirk of your own you shrugged. “Nothing, just wanted to see if I could actually pull you. You may continue.”
With a chuckle he leaned forward, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Pull harder next time Ma’am.” Gently nibbling on your nape, his tongue ran up to your ear as he pulled open the sash, letting the robe fall open. The next second he was reaching lower, turning on the toy by the button at the end and listening to its hum course through your body. The breathless moan you let out in response had his cock twitching.
“N-Noted.” Exposing your neck to him, you watched through lidded eyes as he trailed kisses down your body. The ears tickled against your flesh, the leather leash limp in your hand dragging along the curve of your body as well- all of these felt more intense than it was due to the vibrations coursing through you.
Truth be told he was the first man to use toys on you, others finding them an affront to their capabilities, but not San. No, from the size of that bag and how eager he seemed about the leash, he seemed to like using toys. While that was a good thing, you also realized you had a lot less control over this situation than you thought. 
“Kitty-”
“Hm?” He hummed against your navel, hands gripping the flesh of your thighs and holding your legs open.
Just a little lower and he would look absolutely perfect, but you still wanted to give him a bit of a reward. “Lay on the bed, I want to use you.” Your choice of words had heat pooling in his eyes. After placing a chaste kiss to your inner thighs, he climbed on the bed around you and did as instructed, eyes on the leash in your hand.
Standing up you let the robe drop to the floor, taking in the sight of him laying there ready for you, trusting you to use him as you see fit. Muscles taunt, cock leaking precum against his abdomen, and tongue running over his lips as he took in the sight of you as well. Giving him a bit of a show, you ran your hands over your sides and up to your chest, thumbs running over your perky nipples as you climbed on the bed. Impatience was clear in the way he watched you, his hands tugging at the sheets beneath to keep from reaching out.
Part of you wished he would, give you a reason to punish him, but you liked how obedient he was. “That’s it, my pretty kitty. I have just the treat for you.” You swung your leg over, pushing the tail of the toy aside before lowering until you could feel each of his hot breaths on your folds. “Use just your mouth, I want to see your hands stroking that pretty cock for me. Show me how much you love it. Does my pet understand?”
“Yes Ma’am.” The two words were more like a guttural groan, hands tugging on sheets a bit harder. 
“Good boy- dinner is served th-en.” You barely got the words out before his mouth was on you, tongue pressing up against your clit. You lowered yourself more, playing with your own breasts while still holding the leash in your hand. He was messy, a bit feral even, and you were loving that.
Like you had ordered, one of his hands wrapped around his cock, using the bit of precum to lube himself up. Being the generous owner you were, you leaned forward, letting a glob of spit dribble down onto his cock. He groaned against your folds, hand working the spit over himself a bit faster than before. 
“Ah so good, just like that.” Your hips began to grind down against his mouth, the stimulation against your clit with the toy and the sight he made felt amazing. He was needy beneath you, switching between his lips and tongue, quickly finding the perfect rhythm that had moans falling from your lips in between praises.
Your own hands working on your breasts, all the different ways of pleasure twisting and combining to bring you closer and closer to your high. “Use both hands, want you to cum Kitty. I told you I want you a mess. Understand?” With a tug on the leash, his hips bucked and you felt him moan. 
There was no doubt in your mind he wasn’t enjoying this, the rapid way he was stroking himself, now coupled with massaging his balls. He dug his heels into the bed to lift his hips, thrusting up into his hand at a similar pace to his tongue flicking against your clit. You were close, the praise you were giving devolved into moans.
As if sensing it, he worked a bit harder, bringing you to a climax that had you soaking his mouth and legs tightening around his head. He didn’t seem to mind at all, groaning as he lapped at your wetness, the work of his hands becoming a bit unsteady.
The thick white spurts falling over his chest and abdomen came as a shock to you, his hips stuttering as you had lifted yourself off to keep from being too over stimmed. You definitely didn’t expect him to come so fast, but the fact he did filled you with pride. Did you taste that good? Did he enjoy this that much? The breathless stutters that left him as he pushed out the last drops of cum he could onto his stomach had you clenching around the toy.
Being reminded of it, you sat to the side of him and turned the toy off, leaving it in for now. Your legs were still trembling, satisfied for the moment. “I wasn’t expecting you to be such a mess already, poor kitty, can’t you handle yourself better than this?” You leaned down, face hovering over his as you took in the sight of your slick all over his mouth and chin. It was hot, the sight of him alone heating you up.
He grinned, wide and cute despite the situation. “I’m just getting started, Ma’am.”
“I’d hope so.” Tucking a finger under the leather of the collar, you pulled him up to meet you halfway, lips moving against his and getting a taste of yourself on his lips. The kiss was heated, messy, each stroke of your lips needier than the last. You could feel his hands on your hips, lowering you onto the bed as he moved on top, pressing his body against yours and smearing  his cum onto your skin.
Not that you cared, you wanted to be a mess. Fucked dumb, worn out you wouldn’t want to get out of bed for days. But first, you wanted to play with your pet some more. Gripping the leash you managed to flip the two of you over so you were back on top, lips still clashing with his. He groaned beneath you, grinding his hips up to rub his half hard cock against your folds, his hands on your hips moving you in sync with him.
Giggling you pulled away, tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth. “Aht, you’re getting a punishment first Kitty.”
“W-Why?” He whined out, chasing your lips with his when you sat up. With a dazed look in his eyes he added on “Ma’am.”
“Because I never told you that you could cum. So if you want to be a mess that badly… I’m going to make you a mess. Go sit on that chair over there, legs up.” You maneuvered off him before he could protest, brow lifted as you waited for him to obey.
True to his role, but not without a pout, San made his way over to the chair and leaned back, a blush on his high cheeks as he pulled his legs up and held them to his chest. He looked so beautiful there, cute little blush matching the cat ears and the cute tail dangling from his ass, all on display for you.
Licking your lips you sauntered over, running your hands over his rear and up over the back of his thighs. With a devilish smile you grabbed the leash and wrapped it under the backs of his knees, holding the end against the arm of the chair to keep him in place. “Now now, you’re going to still and do nothing except what I tell you. Don’t move your body, don't break your gaze from mine, and certainly don’t cum unless I say. Understood my little pet?”
He nodded, biting down on his lip as he watched you place a foot on either side of him and step onto the chair. With your free hand you gripped his cock, pulling it up so that you could lower yourself down. The first inch had a gasp leaving your lips, gaze locked on his as you took inch by inch until you were sitting on the back of his thighs, San folding under you for you to use as you please. This was a position you always wanted to try, and so far it was everything you hoped for. A big strong man bent to your will beneath you, cock throbbing in your cunt, ready for you to use.
“Fuck you look so pretty like this. You’re my pretty kitty aren't you? How does my pussy feel? You like it?” Keeping him fully sheathed you rotated your hips forward, biting back your own moan at how good he felt with that bullet still inside. It must have felt just as good for him, his mouth falling open and his hands gripping the sides of the chair. When he nodded, you tutted, snapping your hips to get a reaction out of him, pleased with the jiggle of the bell. “Use your words.”
“F-fuck yes, feels so good Ma’am. So fucking tight.” His whiney words hit as deep as his cock did, motivating you even further.
“Mmm, you fill me up so good, kitty. Can you feel how deep you are?” Another snap of your hips, taking in every subtle shift of his expression. 
“Yes yes, I can feel the bullet.”
“Do you want me to move?” You urged, leaning forward until your shoulders were hitting his calves, his mouth just out of reach but you could feel his heavy pants. 
“Yes Ma’am. I want you to fuck yourself on my cock.”
You tightened the leash, clenching your walls around him on command, tsking. “I’m giving the orders right now. You have to beg for what you want, pets ask nicely.”
“P-please Ma’am, please fuck yourself on my cock? Use me, please.” He begged, but it wasn’t enough. You lifted yourself up before slamming yourself down, the deep moan leaving him doing wonders to your own brain. “Yes yes like that. More like that. Please Miss.”
With a breathless giggle, you did it again, the jiggle from the bell music to your ears. “That’s it, keep begging.” You managed to reach between you both and turn the toy on, his hips jerked as it vibrated against his tip inside you. With him filling you up like this you could feel it much more than before, making your head spin.
His head fell back but your eyes stayed locked, so much desire in his that it almost flustered you. Gripping the arm rests with both hands now, you moved your hips, grinding them forward while keeping him mostly sheathed inside and hitting all the right angles. Your pace was painfully slow, hips stopping whenever he stopped begging which he was now doing as easily as breathing. The whiniest words leaving his lips followed by a moan whenever you obliged.
You weren’t unaffected either, breathing harder with each flick of your hips, each press of his cock head against your inner walls. His pleas had progressively gone from “please use me” to “fuck I wanna cum. Please let me cum.”
“Hold it, you don’t get to cum until I say.” Your command lacked oomph with how breathless you were, your own patience running thin. Only when you noticed he was drooling a bit did it snap, your fingers digging into the fabric of the chair as you lifted yourself up only to slam back down. Your pace was harsh, much faster and harder than it had been seconds before. If you thought he had been vocal, it was nothing compared to the whines and grunts that left him now, drowning out the sound of the bell jiggling with each slam of your body down against his.
“Ma’am- want to cum. Want to cum. Let me cum.”
He was very addictive indeed. “Then cum, make a mess.” You weren’t at all disappointed when you felt him begin to unload in your cunt, managing to pull off him and watch his load unravel on his chest and face instead, a few drops getting into his open mouth. It was filthy… and hot. Hot enough that with the vibrator still driving you crazy, your hips were stuttering with your own climax, soaking your thighs and pushing out his cum onto his thighs and ass.
You didn’t give either of you a chance to come down much before you were pushing him back inside and fucking at the same pace you had been before. “What’s your color?” Despite the fact he was the one getting paid to fuck, you felt the need to ask with how intense this was.
“Green! Fucking hell so green!” No longer able to keep his eyes on yours he was a drooling mess, managing to thrust his hips up to bounce you harder on his cock. “Fuck going to milk me dry. Gunna come again- shitshitshit.” Seemingly lost to the pleasure he grabbed your hands to keep you from falling off him as he kept going.
Letting him have control, your head fell forward, moans tumbling from your lips, marveling at how he managed to turn this position around and fuck you so good despite his own sounds indicating he was fucked dumber than you were.
He had you coming around his cock before he did, both of you a twitching mess as this time he unloaded himself into you. Somehow you managed to reach between you and turn the toy off again, legs still shaking as you climbed off and watched his legs fall to the floor. Both of you were panting, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, a wide satisfied grin on his face as he lounged there catching his breath.
You weren’t doing much better, but you could stand. “God you are a fucking mess. Such a filthy kitty, don’t tell me you’re tapping out before me?” Your taunt was only half-cocked, running a hand through your hair to pull the sticky strands off your face, shaking your head.
The satisfied grin turned into a smirk as he opened one eye to watch you, a deep chuckle escaping him. “I told you, Ma’am, that I wasn’t stopping until I made a mess out of you. Do you really want to test me?”
Hands on your hips, you stood your ground as your heart rate was returning to a normal pace. “You’re shooting blanks, little pet, I don’t think you can keep going, viagra or not.”
He shook his head, gripping the edge of the arm rest and sitting up, a predatory look in his eyes as he licked the remaining cum off his lips. “I don’t use viagra Miss, but I should mention for safety reasons that if we go any more without a break… I might break you.” 
The mere idea had you shivering, for the first time this night you were intimidated by him. The way he was watching you as he seemed to regain his composure became more predatory by the second, the idea of the pet eating you alive exciting you on a whole other level.
The look of understanding settling in his eyes told you that he was aware of your current direction of thoughts. You took a step back, glancing around the room as the urge to run was becoming stronger by the second.
“Color?” 
You nearly missed the low rumble, breath catching in your lungs as you looked back at him. “Green.”
The split second the word was out of your mouth he was off the chair and you were running towards the bathroom, adrenaline of the chase exciting you. You didn’t make it to the door, his arm wrapping around your waist and turning you to him, silencing anything you had to say with a messy kiss. You could taste his cum on his tongue, feel his hands run up your body, moving you back. Your ass hit the cold glass of the mirror hanging on the wall, the whimper leaving you getting swallowed by him.
Your head was swimming with desire, hands gripping his biceps unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. He decided for you, pulling away to turn you around and press you firmly against the mirror, trailing open mouth kisses down your neck. “Still want to order your pet around? Or can I finally show you what I can do to you? Please you so well I’ll be the only little kitty you ever want again?”
The mere idea of him fucking you that good left you breathless, a nod of your head all you could manage. He picked you up by the back of your thighs then, wrapping an arm under your legs and holding you back against him. You could only watch through the mirror, the toy sticking out of your dripping cunt on display, his eyes watching over your shoulder as he nibbled on your shoulder. With his free hand he pulled the toy out by the tail, holding it between two fingers as he gripped his dick and guided the tip in place.
For a brief moment neither of you moved, staring at your reflection. You could see everything below and so could he. The next moment however he was pounding up into you hard. The bell jiggled just behind your head, nearly animalistic grunts leaving him as he held you up with no issues with just one arm. Even with the constant motions he managed to move you around, pushing your legs to either side of your torso so your knees aligned with your shoulders, leaving your breasts to bounce on display. His fingers dug into your thigh hard enough bruises would be left, and yet he still managed to bring his free hand up and hold the toy up against your clit now that it was turned on once more.
He had said he liked strength play, but you hadn’t even thought this possible. Any thoughts or doubts were wiped clean as you lost yourself to the pleasure. The sounds he made, deep grunts and growls, as your cunt constantly squeezed his cock, hips stuttering as the constant vibrations on your clit were quickly bringing you to a high.
You cried out louder than you thought you could when you did, coming so hard your juices squirted out onto the mirror. The primal growl he let out against your shoulder as he bit down did things to your mind and body. You were barely selfaware for the seconds that followed, tongue sticking out and drool running down your chin as your head fell back, still twitching and coming as he fucked you through your climax.
It was both painful and pleasurable as he kept going, dropping the toy to the floor and now holding your thighs with both hands. “Not messy enough. Just a bit more.” He shifted and somehow managed to go harder, hitting all the right spots that had you clawing at his arms and tears running down your cheeks from the overstimulation.
Black clouded your vision for a moment as you were squirting all over the both of you, hard enough his cock was pushed out, his own cum squirting up on your thighs and the mirror as well. You were left shaking in his embrace, whimpering and begging. “No more. You win. You win.”
So fucked out you didn’t register the kiss he placed against your cheek, or that he was laying you down on the silken sheets a moment later. He laid down next to you, that you did register just barely, turning to look over at him. His brows were pushed together as he watched you with a look of concern, perking up when he noticed you focused enough on him.
“Hey, how are you feeling? That wasn’t too much was it?”
Your mind floundered for some semblance of words to speak, gaping like a fish before settling on a lazy smile. “I think I just forgot I existed for a moment there. Damn.” Laughing a bit breathlessly you shut your eyes, making a mental check of your body. “Next time just fuck me like that.”
“Next time?” Humor was laced in his words.
“Mhmm. Next time. We can talk about the time after that later. For now… how does a cat nap sound before we have to clean up?”He chuckled, curling up into your side much like a cat would. “Sounds like a deal.”
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imliketheiceifreeze · 2 years ago
Text
Norman Nordstrom x reader
A rose by any other name- part 2
Warnings: Violence, smut, age gap, abuse, abduction, minors DNI
1,916 words
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You'd walked past his house many times since your last meeting, However the old man never seemed to be home.
'He probably thinks your some kind of creep.'
You thought to yourself as you rounded the corner to his house for the fifth time that week. Obsession like this isn't healthy and you knew it, your parents always wondered what you did on your little walks around the block, you could never tell them it was to satiate your fascination with a 70 year old man, they'd surely look at you like some kind of mental patient.
A strong arm around your waist ripped you out of your thoughts as another held what felt like cloth to your mouth. An acrid smell filled your nostrils as you struggled against the limbs that caged you to no avail.
"Shh sweetheart, don't fight it."
A voice you vaguely recognised growled into your ear as the world around you went dark and you collapsed into the stranger.
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You awoke, shivering cold, laying on what seemed to be a bed. As you slowly took in your surroundings you quickly noticed you wrist was tightly handcuffed to the bed-post. You struggled against it, wearily, knowing deep down there was no use in fighting. However, the noise seemed to alert your captor, as heavy footsteps rapidly approached the room in which you lay. Deep dread filled your body as your breath caught in your throat. You couldn't believe who stood before you-the white beard, the scar underneath his vacant eye. It was him. It was Norman.
"You're awake, good."
He spoke matter-of-factly, slowly approaching the bed to which you were bound.
"Now don't struggle, I understand this might be difficult for you to accept but just let me speak for a moment."
The irony of your silence didn't escape you as he sat beside you on the bed, feeling around for your leg before patting it warmly.
"I intend for you to be my wife and eventually, I hope you will bear me the that child I lost. I know this won't be too hard for you considering your feelings for me..."
You were gobsmacked. Was this some kind of sick proposal? However, another twisted part of you felt delighted at the lengths this man would go to to have you, something you weren't used to considering your average looks and demure personality.
"Are you being serious? You're going to lock me up here like some kind of dog, let me out you sick fuck!"
You spat at him, partially in anger but mostly powered by fear as you gripped onto your cuffed hand, yanking it with all the force in your body.
"Hmm."
He grumbled, gripping your leg more harshly making you yelp in pain, stopping your struggle with the cuffs to grab his hand in an attempt to stop the pressure.
"So you were just leading me on with all that bullshit then? You act like that around every man you meet like some kind of whore?"
He spoke bitterly
"Norman!"
You exclaimed between breaths,
"This is not exactly the way you go around asking a girl out you know."
You huffed, eventually managing to pry his hand off your thigh.
"But I can keep you safe in here, you really want to live out there where people steal, murder..."
He trailed off sadly, making the sympathy bubble in your gut. For fucks sake am I actually sympathising with the man that has me tied up in his house right now?
"Norman,"
you breathed again, leaning to rest a hand on his shoulder. You could see the pain in his eyes, the world had taken so much from one man, who would you be if you couldn't provide him with some form of comfort? He faced you, confusion set in his face,
"please let me go. I'll stay with you, I won't leave, but I have a life too, a job. It doesn't mean I'm going to disappear."
You spoke it softly, rubbing your thumb against his shoulder like you did that day.
"How can I believe you?"
Fear laced his words in a way you didn't expect was possible from a former Navy Seal.
"Believe me, believe my words. Keep a tracking device on me, stalk me, tattoo me as yours, I don't care. You can do what you want but don't keep me tied up like an animal Norman, how is that any way to treat someone you want as your wife?"
This seemed to shift something in him and he reached for his pocket, you stilled in fear wondering if you had gone too far, until you spied the shining metal of a key. He leaned over you, feeling around your wrist and hand until he could push the key into your cuffs, freeing your bruised limb, before he sat back defeatedly, gesturing to the door.
"Go on then, aren't you gonna run?"
You ignored his words and leaned up on your knees, reaching out for his shoulders to steady yourself. He raised his brows in shock but allowed you to continue your ministrations. Tentatively, you reached for his white beard, stroking it softly between your thumb and forefinger, eyes flicking down to his lips.
"I told you I'm not going to leave didn't I?"
You murmured before leaning towards him, capturing his lips against yours, feeling him tense against you. It was a chaste kiss and you held his face in your hands, stroking his cheek, feeling like this was the only place in the world you belonged. Finally you felt his hands around your waist, holding you strongly against his chest.
"You mean it?"
"Of course I mean it you stupid old man,"
you chastised before leaning in to kiss him again. This time his lips moved against yours, holding you tight like he might lose you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, enjoying the feeling of his beard tickling your cheeks. You couldn't help but moan as you felt his tongue work its way into your mouth, heat pooling between your legs as you shifted against him in attempt to relieve the discomfort. He grunted, stilling your hips and pulling away speaking lowly, his husky voice causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.
"don't do that, or I wont hold back."
Your eyes practically rolled into your skull as you whimpered, burying your head into his shoulder, trying as hard as you could to move your hips against his vice like grip as your pussy clenched against nothing. Hoping to sway him, you pressed soft kisses to the junction between his neck and shoulder, moving up towards his ear, sucking occasionally which earned you a growl from him and a slap to your thigh. This only served to turn you on more, the heat of the moment causing you to lose all sense of what was rational.
"I don't want to hurt you Y/N,"
he murmured, one hand finding your hair and rubbing circles into your scalp.
"I know you won't, besides, I want this."
He groaned, leaning his head back in frustration whilst you contented yourself with running your hands down his broad chest, fingering at the exposed skin of his lower stomach.
"Isn't this the real reason you had me tied up in your bed?"
You asked, the sultry tone surprising even yourself.
He growled in return, breaths growing heavier whilst you continued to kiss up and down his neck and chest. Suddenly, you felt yourself being pushed harshly into the mattress, Norman's weight settling above you and pinning your arms over your head.
"Don't start something you can't finish little girl."
You were too stunned to reply, only able to allow him to roam your body with his free hand, trailing along your exposed thigh in the tight summer dress you wore.
"Is this what you wanted hmm?"
He asked lowly as his fingers finally pressed against your core, feeling your throbbing heat, barely covered by soaking panties.
"Shit, you always get like this?"
He asked incredulously, leading you to mutter a small no as you watched his face contort into a predatory smile. He pulled you into a passionate kiss, running his hand up and down your folds, eventually casting aside your underwear to tease you further. You gasped has he circled your clit with his thick fingers.
"tell me to stop."
You replied with silence, which seemed to be enough to crack his tough resolve. He pulled down your dress to expose your breasts, cupping them with his rough palms as he kissed and nipped at your neck, his other hand continuing it's assault on your weeping pussy. It was all too much and you gasped and moaned wantonly, tears forming in your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure.
"This is all for me isn't it?"
He growled, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"yes!"
You cried out as you felt his other finger prodding at your entrance,
"it's all for you, only you."
You trembled as you felt his finger slide in easily, pumping in and out slowly as he added a second. Your moans grew louder and you bucked your hips to keep up with his rhythm. Slowly he began to kiss down your body, sucking on your tits before eventually landing at your pussy, open and ready for him. Without warning he dived in, grabbing your thighs for purchase as he slurped pornographically at your sex. You covered your face in embarrassment at the sight before you, it had you almost coming instantly. His mouth and fingers worked you like an instrument, not seeming to mind as you trapped his head with your thighs and grabbed at his soft hair, arching into him with each pump of his fingers. He had managed to work four into you at this point and satisfied himself with sucking on your sensitive bud.
"Please, please please,"
you chanted, writhing beneath the man you had fantasised about for years.
"Please what baby?"
He questioned as if there wasn't one obvious answer.
"Please let me come,"
you breathed, scratching at his scalp, toes curling.
"You can come whenever you're ready sweetheart,"
he hummed against your pussy, pumping you faster whilst his lips continued their magical torture.
"Ughh-hh-ahh."
You choked out, shaking as your high hit you like a train, barely aware of your pussy squirting all over Norman's face with every blissful contraction of your body.
"Hmm that's it baby, let it all out,"
he murmured, fingering you through your orgasm. Your mind was blank as you fell back into the bed like a rag doll. You felt the bed dip as Norman laid down beside you, pulling you into his body, fingers tracing the skin on your arms. Eventually your brain began to be capable of forming thoughts aside from your orgasmic bliss, allowing you to realise Norman hadn't had his own release.
"Let me help you,"
you lazily reached behind you to feel his hard cock straining his trousers.
"Shh go to sleep,"
he grunted, kissing your shoulder.
"Are you sure?"
You questioned, knowing you were too spent to be able to do anything but lay there as he took his pleasure.
"Yes, you can make it up to me another time, just go to sleep for now,"
he replied firmly, cradling your body in his arms as you allowed sleep to take over your body knowing you were utterly fucked in more ways than one.
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rdbrainz · 1 year ago
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Hi there! If you're still accepting Bleach requests, may I see your headcannons based on the Bleach Jet art of the Espadas and Quincies in delinquent school uniforms (specifically Grimmjow, Nnoitra, and Bazz-B)? That official art just gave me major brain worms, and I really like your art and headcannons >.< Also, do you happen to have a Ko-fi/patreon to send donations to?
ACTUALLY funny enough I've been thinking about this art a lot myself lmao so I do have some headcanons! as for my ko-fi or patreon.. like I said before transferring money out of them is impossible where I am right now but I made a boosty acc (I'll link it in my bio)
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First I wanna add that I just can't see Stark as a high schooler x). He has the vibe of a teacher who somehow ended up with the worst classes in school despite his formidable reputation. Though maybe he was a delinquent himself in the past so he knows how to deal with these little shits. He also has a soft spot for them so as strict as this man can be he cuts them a lot of slack. Like for example I'm sure Nnoitra would smoke in this AU so I think the first day Stark started working with them they met on the rooftop on the lunch break while Gilga was smoking and instead of scolding him Stark just asked for a cig. Nnoitra almost shit himself. I'm also sure he would ask his class to look after his daughter Lilynette so she won't get into any trouble with that attitude of hers. She's probably in middle school or a couple of years younger than them so yeah... the lil sis of the group...
Despite the differences and constant bickering Nnoitra and Grimmjow are basically attached at the hip. I can see them being childhood frenemies actually. Ulquiorra and Szayel are also somewhere in their orbit of course but these two are the worst duo to stumble upon. Very notorious
Ulquiorra is obviously the class president given the armband. He tries his best to mediate the conflicts between his classmates or make them behave better but it's all in vain. Mostly. Some days he's just not in the mood to be responsible and reasonable when dealing with all the bullshit. When trying to bring delinquents to reason you have to be either very respected among them or more fierce than them and Ulquiorra certainly lacks the authority because of his character and swaglessness. He's very scary when mad however. Everybody knows this by now but they just keep trying their fate. Like I'm telling you once he unbuttons his gakuran it's so fucking over
Unlike Grimmjow Nnoitra is actually bothered with his grades enough to try and work for them and/or study (not all the time of course what do you think he's a loser or something?) It includes scaring people into doing his homework, snatching papers out of Ulquiorra's hands right before the class starts (he's used to it so he carries around two sets of hw) or if he REALLY needs to pass an exam he goes to Szayel, the class smartass. The latter is literally equivalent to dying and going through hell to him because he has to abandon all his pride. If you have a shit ton of money you always can try and ask Szayel to help you. Sure. A little bit of humiliation and you actually know the subject. However when it comes to Nnoitra the freak won't let him breathe because: 1) he doesn't need his money, Nnoitra has plenty and it's already stolen anyway so what's the fun? 2) asking a fellow delinquent you have a beef with for help has different means of payment 3) he just really wants to fuck with this guy's head since he thinks Nnoitra is a curious fella. Gilga is well aware of all of this and he's well aware that Szayel will make him polish his boots with his tongue before even considering helping him with acquiring the forbidden chemistry knowledge. So he has to really work for it whether it's a fistfight or running errands for Szayelaporro. It's a good thing Grantz stays true to his word
Grimmjow has a well-accessorized uniform thanks to Nnoitra but his casual clothing is hilariously uncool. I'm convinced this guy has zero taste both in clothing and prints/patterns because he couldn't care less about what other people think is considered fashionable when all he needs personally is functionality and comfort. He knows how to rock a good hairstyle though but if he wants to wear flip-flops outside then so be it
Nnoitra spends all the money he gets on new accessories and CDs (and maybe sometimes porno magazines) for which he constantly gets picked on. If it's someone not from his immediate friend circle then it's not even worth thinking about - left, right, goodnight. As if he's gonna let anyone get too fucking cheeky with him. He's infamous for being called slurs and then bashing the person's head in for this every week because he wears heels and had to endure children being mean to him because of his eye in kindergarten and primary school so it's no big deal really. But if it's Grimmjow then it's a fucking word battle to death he just can't let it slide. Jaegerjaquez really thinks Nnoitra is gonna get strangled by one of his necklaces one of those days but whatever. It's up to him. His music taste however... Now that's something they quarrel about all the time. "I mean I'm not saying anything! Sure you can buy new TOOL CDs all you want.. cough cough... fucking loser.. cough"
Bazz-B was hell-bent on making friends with Grimmjow because he genuinely thinks this guy is awesome. Look at his laid-back attitude and vicious ways! His blue hair, his style! Ohhh, to be like him!!! Jaegerjaquez on the other hand was not very impressed with how annoying Bazz could get with his neverending attempts of talking to him. Too energetic and loud for his liking. He already has Nnoitra and his big fat mouth he constantly runs all he wants so another talkative guy next to him would be too much for his everyday life. He would literally tell him to fuck off and threaten him with a beating of his life but unfortunately it got Bazz even more fired up. Damn weirdo. And a major pain in the ass. They did find a common ground in the end though and it's... A motorcycle that Bazz owns. Bazzard suggested they could take a ride together as a last resort and it was all it took to buy Grimm. Imagine the most excited person you've ever met and they still won't be as excited as Grimmjow was at that moment. Instant fucking boner! "Dibs on driving though" "Deal!" Grimmjow was surprised to reveal that Bazz-B is actually fun to be around and not as annoying as he initially thought he was. Nnoitra made a joke about them having a date the next day though
I think here Bazz-B suffers the same fate as Sakuragi Hanamichi in the beginning of Slam Dunk which is constantly trying to get girls on a date but being brutally rejected each time lmao 😭It's not like he is a bad-looking guy no it's actually the opposite but his personality and hot-headedness are too much to bear for girls he's going after
Askin is a great negotiator and he knows his way around with words but other than that he sucks. He's not a bad guy, just chronically fucking uncool and has to hide behind other people's backs because of mediocre fighting abilities. He also gets in all kinds of stupid situations because he just can't keep his thoughts to himself sometimes which is a bad asset to his cheesiness
Äs Nödt is also not very good at fighting but he's more useful than Askin lol. A smartass and a menace who is talented at collecting data and black-mail on people by eavesdropping and other means. He's the one who proposes the most out-of-pocket ways of taking revenge on other gangs or teaching someone a lesson so you better be careful with him
I hope I'll make more art of this later cuz I'm a bit burnt out rn
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infiniteeight8 · 1 year ago
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Ironstrange identity reveal? I was reading Spy x Family when I thought of this, so that's the background/setting I was thinking of initially, but it can definitely be a superhero thing too. Or whatever other idea pops into your head. I'm always excited to see what you come up with!
I read the top of the wikipedia entry for Spy x Family, but that setup is not working for me here, so instead we’re going with some classic “Iron Man is Tony Stark’s bodyguard” shenanigans. 😀
Uh, this got… more than a little out of hand. This has many themes in common with other drabbles, but now it’s 1360 words long. Enjoy?
Under the read more for length.
-
Tony stares stubbornly at Steve, who is rubbing his eyes with the kind of exhausted exasperation that has become his hallmark around Iron Man.
“Iron Man, you were unconscious,” Steve says. “After being electrocuted. You need a real medical check.”
“The armor has medical sensors,” Tony insists. “It says I’m fine. I can answer questions for a neurological exam. That’ll have to be good enough.”
Steve gets that stubborn look on his face. The one that no one wins against. Fuck. “You’re benched until you get a real medical check.”
“How about if I get checked out in my civilian identity?” Tony suggests.
“We have no way of verifying that you’ve done that,” Steve says. “And while I hate to say you’d lie, I can’t dismiss the possibility after this conversation. I understand your hesitation about revealing your identity, but your life is at stake.”
“It’s really not,” Tony mutters. He’s fine. But he can tell that Steve isn’t going to budge on this, and he wants to be off the bench sooner rather than later. “Fine. Call Strange, then.”
Steve’s eyebrows go up. “Doctor Strange? He’s not a practicing physician.”
“He’s kept his certifications, though.”
“And he hates you.”
Stephen hates Iron Man. He’s quite fond of Tony Stark, though. They’re… friends. He’s asked Tony on half a dozen dates, which Tony has been forced to turn down because he refuses to lie about something as important as Iron Man to someone he’s dating. It’s made for a lonely couple of years. At least if he has to reveal his identity to someone, he might get a date out of it. If Stephen forgives him for lying. If he can get past Tony Stark being an Avenger in general (apparently they make a lot of work for the sorcerers; something about the barriers between dimensions) and Iron Man in specific, who he’s always hated the most. 
“Then you’ll know he’s being honest when he clears me,” is all Tony says aloud.
Steve still looks baffled, but he makes the call.
Tony’s expecting Stephen to be angry when he arrives. He may keep his medical certifications up to date, but he doesn’t work as a doctor and he’s sure as hell not on call for the Avengers. But when he arrives he’s crisply professional, if frosty. He’s even wearing a lab coat over street clothes. He locks the exam room door behind him, which would be odd except that he follows it up with, “Armor off.” Tony hesitates. Stephen’s expression tightens. “Captain Rogers indicated you were willing to be examined,” he says sharply.
“This is kind of a big deal,” Tony snaps. “There is literally no one living that knows who I am.”
Stephen blinks. “Surely Tony knows.”
Tony sighs. “Yeah. About that.” He issues the command, and the helmet retracts. 
Stephen stares. And stares. And there it is. There’s the anger. “You utter fucking idiot!” He shouts. “What the hell are you doing risking your life in that goddamned tin can?! Don’t you know what a catastrophic loss it would be if you died out there?”
Okay, Stephen is yelling, but it seems like… good yelling? “I’m saving people,” Tony argues.
“You save plenty of people as Tony Stark!” Thank God the soundproofing in this place is spectacular; Stephen doesn’t lower his voice one bit. “So why do you insist on ruining your own life with this, this,” he waves his hand inarticulately at the armor still covering Tony to the neck, “bullshit.”
Okay, that’s enough. “Iron Man is not ruining my life! It’s the best thing I’ve ever done!”
Stephen's expression shifts from furious to incredulous. “The best thing?” he demands. “The best thing? What about the 100 million dollar donation to spinal cord research? The Foundation that helps people rebuild after things like alien invasions when their insurance won’t? What about the shield you invented that makes it possible for people with sensitive implants to get an MRI safely, or the modular smartphone that doesn’t need to be replaced every two years? What about the scholarships you’ve endowed?”
“Stephen—”
“Are those not big enough in scale?” Stephen demands. “How about the clean energy technology that looks like it might stop global warming in its tracks? Is that enough? Is one planet not enough? Do we need to talk about the international collaboration that you started to combine Earth’s resources with alien technology to turn us into an interstellar civilization before another interstellar civilization can dismiss us as barbarians—”
“I’m not the one who decided none of that counted!” Tony shouted over Stephen. It stops the tirade, at least. Tony blows out a hard breath. “The guy who donates the 100 million dollars isn’t the hero,” he goes on. “That’s the guy who makes the discovery. The Foundation isn’t celebrated for the people it helps, it’s critiqued for the ones it doesn’t. The MRI shield, the smartphone… people like them, but they’re advances that ‘were always coming’. Or maybe ‘were overdue’. That doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing. Of course they’re worth doing.” Tony retracts a gauntlet and rubs a hand over his face. God, he’s tired. “I just… I wanted to be the hero for once,” he admits. It sounds so fucking selfish. “Tony Stark could never do enough. It always had to be about the money for them, even when it really wasn’t about the money for me. But Iron Man… No one wonders what his ulterior motive is when he does something good. They just cheer.”
Stephen sighs and hitches himself up onto the medical bed next to Tony. “Do you know why I hated Iron Man so much?”
Tony grimaces. “I always figured he was just too… blunt instrument for you.”
Stephen snorts. “Hulk and Cap are far more blunt,” he says. “Iron Man at least has precision weapons to go with the punches. No. I hated Iron Man because when the suit failed somehow Tony got the blame, but when it worked, Iron Man got the credit. Iron Man made everything you just explained worse, not better.”
There’s not really a counter argument for that. It’s true. Except, “Nothing was going to make that better,” Tony says. “Nothing could. Not until I’m dead, anyway.” He half expects Stephen to go right back to haranguing him for risking his life. 
“Speaking of which, I’m meant to be making sure you’re not dying now,” Stephen says. He stands and moves to face Tony. “Come on. Get the rest of the armor off.”
Tony obliges, and they proceed with the rest of the exam in silence. 
Near the end, Tony looks over Stephen’s shoulder rather than meet his eyes and says, quietly, “I’m not going to stop.”
“My initial reaction aside,” Stephen answers, just as soft, “I never thought you would. I know as well as anyone how this life becomes a part of you.” When he finishes the exam, he steps back. “You’re fine.” 
Tony nods and puts the armor back on. It’s never been so quiet between them before. His chest aches.
When he’s got everything but the helmet back on, Stephen stops him. “Is this why you always said no when I asked you out?”
“Yeah,” Tony says. “Didn’t seem right to lie like that to my partner.”
“Right.” Stephen nods firmly. “So will you go out with me now?”
Tony perks up. “You still want to?”
Stephen gives him a look. “You have not had a personality transplant,” he says dryly. “So yes, I still want to.”
Do not push your luck, Tony tells himself. He says it anyway, “Thought the lying might be a bigger deal.”
“Everyone keeps secrets,” Stephen says. “But the secrets that a friend will accept are different from the secrets that a partner will accept. You’ve already demonstrated that you understand that.” Tony grins and Stephen shoots him a look. “We will, however, be having words about you assuming I’d react like anyone else in your life.”
Tony swallows a laugh. “Of course,” he says. “I should have known you’d be exceptional.” 
“And don’t forget it,” Stephen says, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.
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pinkurbanfictionhaven · 7 months ago
Text
1- FUCK ME AT FASHION WEEK
The sound of metal hangers scraping rapidly across dozens of clothing racks full of high-priced designer clothing filled up the large NYC penthouse.
The clothing was delivered a few hours prior and had yet to be stored inside Nicki's three-floor closet, so the racks sat in the center of her living room instead.
Nicki groaned annoyedly as she searched maniacally for the white ensemble and matching fur jacket that she requested for her new wardrobe assistant, Trina to pack into her wardrobe for New York City Fashion Week.
"I swear I can not believe this shit! I am scheduled to be at the Tom Ford show in less than a fucking hour and I'm still here struggling to put an outfit together because my assistant can't follow simple instructions and do her damn job!" She ranted, storming into her bedroom to put on her jewelry.
"You know you can just wear something else right? It is the girl's first week doing this job so I am sure that it was an honest rookie mistake, Cookie." Her friend Thembi defends the young assistant.
Nicki eyeballs her, watching her lay lazily across her California King Bed, fully dressed down for the gods in the latest couture while stuffing handfuls of Smart Popcorn into her mouth.
Thembi 👆🏾
Her new stylist, Maher Jridi handpicked the perfect designer outfits for her to slay fashion week, and she felt stressed that everything wasn't in order since she is a bit of a perfectionist.
"Why don't you help me put an outfit together since you know so fucking much!" Nicki rants, tossing her ankle-length weave to the side to clasp her diamond-encrusted necklace around her neck.
Thembi sits upright in Nicki's lavish bed, analyzing her best friend that she has known for years as she shuffled around the gigantic bedroom, complaining about everything under the sun.
Nicki stops near her light-up makeup vanity to spritz some sweet-smelling perfume onto her chest, wrists, and neck.
Staring down at the perfume bottle, she realized that she picked up his favorite perfume scent on her out of habit, it frustrated the hell out of her, causing her to suck her teeth and put the bottle down.
Nicki hated to admit it, but her subconscious mind was on him.
Nicki has been moody and bitchy since they touched down in New York a few days ago, Thembi and all of Nicki's entourage and beauty team couldn't help but notice the change in her.
"What about this red dress, Cookie?" Thembi climbs down from the bed and approaches the various racks of clothing, pulling the dress from a rack after eyeing it from across the room.
This is cute! Right, Cookie?" Thembi holds up a cute short studded dress to show Nicki. "Pair it with some sexy ass thigh highs and you're all set." She runs her hand over the fabric.
Nicki peeks her head out of the bathroom door and cringes at the sight of the dress.
"No! that's basic! Are you trying to turn me into one of these basic bitches?"
Nicki frowned her face in the mirror as she adjusted her glued mink lashes and primped.
"I have to look perfect and sexy, the paparazzi will be there and you know they live for dragging people for their attire. It's bad enough that my name is all up in the news for this Remy bullshit."
Her friend walks into the bathroom, standing beside Nicki as she brushes her long tresses, she stares into the mirrored reflection at her, watching closely with her tongue stuck inside of her cheek.
After a brief moment of thinking, she grins to herself when she comes to the revelation of what is going on with her temperamental friend.
"I just had an epiphany..." Thembi utters knowingly.
Nicki turns her head and looks at her. "I swear if you say I need to go to Tiffany's I'm straight backhanding you back to Queens!" She smiles adorably, lightening up a bit.
"No, crazy! I just figured out why you've been giving everybody a stink-ass attitude all week long and why you've been screening all of your cell calls, throwing tantrums, and spending just a little too much time in the shower with the removable shower head! You, my friend, need some dick!" Thembi exclaimed.
Nicki's neck quickly snapped in Thembi's direction and she gave her a hostile expression, side-eyeing her.
Nicki couldn't help but become a bit offended by her comments, she just threw major shade. Even though it was true tea, she didn't appreciate her friend being so blunt about it.
In reality, it had been a treacherous three weeks since Nicki got the release that she so desperately desired, she was on a sex strike after a heated argument with the guy that she regularly scheduled her freaky dick appointments with and she had way too much pride to crack first.
He and she had a hostile relationship, they argued and bickered whenever they were in the same room and vowed that they hated each other with a burning passion, but a year ago after a drunken night, one of their heated arguments led to them hate fucking on the private balcony of his hotel room and it's been a fuck fest ever since.
They still hate each other, but the sex between them is so fucking explosive and addicting that they can't control themselves.
So here they are, two enemies stuck between hating each other and fucking each other. The turmoil was real.
"Please, not everyone is overly dick obsessed like you ok? I am living my best life over here!" Nicki retorts, slamming her bedazzled brush down on the counter.
Thembi gives her a knowing look, twisting her lips to the side, putting her hand on her hip, and narrowing her eyes.
Nicki kisses her teeth and lets out a loud frustrated shriek, throwing her head backward in anguish and whining.
"Fine, bitch! Fine! Is it that obvious?! Fuck! I've been dickless for three whole weeks and I feel like ripping all of my hair out! You happy?" Nicki rants, throwing yet another tantrum.
Thembi just stares at her in amusement before they both burst into a fit of laughter.
"Bitch, I knew that something had to be up when you were aggressively humping that big unicorn floaty in Gucci's music video last weekend!" Thembi exclaims.
"You know I ain't got no man, sis! Stop playing these games!" Nicki whines.
"Well, what about this mystery guy that you've been fucking on the low and refuse to tell me or our other girls about?" Thembi questions.
"Nicki!" They suddenly hear, Maher calling from the front of the penthouse.
Nicki smiles cheekily in triumph since he just saved her from the awkward conversation.
"Hehe! Nice try, sis!" She says, and playfully sticks her tongue out at her friend before speed walking out of the bathroom.
Thankfully, Maher found an eye-catching last-minute outfit for her and quickly assisted her with putting it on.
It was already bedazzled so the added jewelry was no longer needed.
They all left the penthouse suite fifteen minutes later and arrived at the runway show fashionably late, just before the show began.
Nicki took her seat front row with her entourage of eight, crossing her legs and handing her Gucci purse off to her assistant.
The show began after a small speech from Tom Ford, she watched the slender male and female models as they strutted and sashayed up and down the catwalk in all of the latest designs while the cameras flashed.
Amid the chaos of the show, she felt eyes on her which caused her to scan around the crowded room.
When their eyes finally locked, her breathing became slightly uneven. The look that he gave her caused her legs to clench and her lips to tremble.
There he and his crew were, seated across from her on the other side of the stage.
Nicki wasn't expecting him to be in New York, let alone at fashion week since he wasn't listed as one of the show's performers and the fashion shows weren't usually his thing, he found them boring.
Damn it, he looked fucking edible, he was clean-cut and dressed down in a denim jean jacket and basic attire, but he still had a way of making the simplest of outfits look so sexy and his own.
Nicki could feel herself getting wet from the sight of him alone, the minute she saw the lecherous gleam in his eyes, her pussy started throbbing like rapid a heartbeat.
He blatantly disregarded the models on the runway and continued sensually glancing across the room at her, bluntly eyeing her entire body and biting his lip.
Thankfully, he had on dark designer sunglasses, so it wasn't noticeable to the random people surrounding them, but Nicki peeped it.
He ran his hand over his freshly groomed facial hair and subtly head-motioned for her to get up and meet him in the bathroom.
Nicki subtly shook her head no causing him to frown and glare at her. He never liked when she disobeyed him.
Nicki watched closely as his hand slid from his knee up to his thighs and he grabbed his bulge, letting her know exactly what would be waiting for her if she got up and went to the bathroom.
"Fuck, why the hell is he doing this right now. People could be watching him." She mumbles to herself and shifts in her seat uncomfortably, biting down on her lip.
Nicki decided to finally break the intense eye contact with him and focus on the show once again, she was only getting herself worked up by watching him and his teasing and she knew that eventually, someone in the crowd would catch on.
Every so often during the two-hour show, she would subtly glance over at him to see that his hungry eyes were still focused directly on her, it was very obvious that the outfit she had on was to blame for his sexual behavior.
When the fashion show finally ended, Nicki chatted with the designer and took photographs with celebs, models, and some of the people that she knew from the industry.
Her eyes scanned the entire room multiple times for Abel, but he seemed to have disappeared right after the end of the show. Nicki hoped he was headed for her penthouse.
In the meantime, Nicki decided to mingle with all of the other guests for a while to give him time to make it across town to her place and hopefully be laying in her bed hard and ready for her when she gets there.
It was hard to put on a fake smile and front when in reality she was anxious to get back to her place to get the life fucked out of her, but she did it.
"Nicki!" Tom called her from across the room before approaching her and taking both of her hands in his.
"Tommy! Thank you for inviting me tonight sweetie! I had such a wonderful time." She pecks both of his cheeks sweetly while giving him a big dimpled smile.
"Will you be coming to the after-party?" Tom asks as they begin to walk hand in hand towards the private exit of the venue.
"I don't think I'll be able to make it, I'm kind of tired and jet-lagged." She lies.
"Oh, nonsense! You simply must come, when you see the gift bags that I am giving away you'll be glad that you did. Come on! You can ride over in my limo with me!" Tom began to drag Nicki along by her arm, not taking no for an answer.
Nicki kept a very calm exterior, but on the inside, she was screaming and crying.
Tom didn't understand the urgency of this particular dick appointment, it was crucial!
The next hour was spent at the party, surrounded by boujee fucking partygoers and engaging in pointless conversation with people that she didn't give a damn about.
Nicki sipped slowly on her bubbling champagne as she maneuvered through the crowded party in search of someone in her entourage to drive her back home, she already knew that Abel would eventually become restless.
Nicki spent another twenty-five minutes searching around before she finally decided to call a car service to pick her up.
"Damn, no reception." She sets her glass down on a nearby table and wanders away to a secluded area of the party to get away from the loud, pulsing, blaring music.
Nicki stops near the entryway and she is so focused on her phone that she doesn't notice that the closet door behind her is opening.
A hand suddenly clasps over Nicki's mouth, muffling her scream, and she feels someone's arm grip her small waist, pulling her into the closet.
Nicki begins to shriek, tussle, and freak out until the dimly lit closet light flickers on and she comes face to face with Abel.
Her small balled-up fists began pounding against his chest in frustration and she screeched.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, you asshole?! You almost scared me half to death!" She places her hand against her rapidly heaving chest, attempting to calm down her racing heart.
Abel quickly cups his hand over her mouth, pressing her back against the door and reaching down to lock it.
"Would you shut up before we get caught together in here!" Abel gripes, staring down into her brown eyes.
"Well, you can't be popping out of fucking closets like a serial killer!" She retorts, slapping his hands away.
"Where the fuck have you been?" He whispers. "You have been ducking me for weeks. I have been calling and texting you like crazy!"
"I told your nappy-headed ass to leave me alone, you were on punishment and you still are." She rolls her neck and turns to leave the closet, but he pushes her back.
"Fuck out of here... You've kept that pussy away from me for weeks and I'm done with your bullshit aight? I'm not leaving New York without sliding deep inside of you so might as well dead all that fucking attitude and open your fucking legs." He whispers assertively into her ear.
Nicki opens her mouth slightly to speak, but he cuts her off by wrapping his hand around her fragile neck and giving it a slight squeeze; which caused the flood between her legs to worsen.
"Shut up and listen." He demands. "Do you have any idea how badly I have been craving your spoiled ass? You have me catching flights for some pussy like I'm one of these regular niggas out here!" He argues with her which was one of his favorite things to do since it always led to mind-blowing sex.
Nicki gave him an adorable dimpled grin, feeling his grip tighten around her neck, she felt accomplished and powerful knowing her pussy was so good that it had him hopping on private jets just to get a sample of it.
Nicki shrugs playfully. "Sounds personal, but it's not my problem. You could have found some pussy back in Toronto."
"Don't pull all that cute shit with me, Nicki. I already know that you missed this dick being inside of you. I can look into your eyes and see how badly you want me right now." He says cockily, causing Nicki to roll her eyes.
I bet that little pussy is dripping for me like a fucking faucet..." He whispers, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Nicki furrowed her eyebrows, she hated his cocky ass with a burning passion.
"Nigga-"
"Just shut the fuck up, we don't have much time." He whispers huskily, cutting her off.
He pulls her forward by her neck and crashes his lips against hers.
They begin to kiss fervidly, tongue-kissing each other roughly and fighting for dominance. Abel regains full control when he takes her tongue into his mouth and sucks it.
Nicki attempts to gain control by reaching up to grab his hair, but Abel grabs a firm hold of her wrists and forcibly pins them up above her head, causing her to whine out in frustration.
"You ain't running shit today, Peaches..." Abel grunts against her succulently soft lips, calling her the name that he gave because he said that her pussy juices are delicious and sweet and of course that peach-shaped ass of hers.
"We can't do it in here, someone will hear us." Nicki pants against his lips.
"Let me just taste it then.." He grunts back, biting her bottom lip, pulling it before trailing rough kisses down her neck to her chest.
Nicki shutters and bites her lip gently when she feels his hands running down her curves.
They slide over her hips and he grips her ass, his lips connect with her left breast and he swirls his tongue over it.
"This closet is too small for all of that..." she whines, feeling her skin heat up from his rough touching and kisses.
"I'll be fast, mama. I just really need to feel you right now." He whispers.
Abel's hands begin to fumble with Nicki's dress as he desperately tries to find a way to get it off of her.
The cage metal design of it makes it difficult, causing Abel to groan in frustration.
"Take this shit off now before I rip it off of you..." He grits.
Nicki snickers at his frustration before finding a way to slip the dress off.
It drapes to the floor, leaving her in a bedazzled bra and leather bottoms.
Abel eagerly begins to tear her shorts from her body, almost ripping them as his long tongue swirls circles around her exposed cleavage.
He roughly kisses and bites down her body until he reaches her belly button, he swirls his tongue around it before licking lower until he is staring at her pussy that is teasingly visible through her see-through pink thong.
Nicki looks down at him, breathing deeply and eager to feel his tongue. He just stares at it fixedly which is causing her to drip even more.
Nicki whimpers softly and slaps the side of his head to get his attention.
"Eat it, Nigga!" She demands, attempting to pull his face between her legs.
He instantly bites down on her inner thigh, making her squeak and hit him again.
"Keep playing and I'll walk out of here and leave you dripping..." He warns.
Before Nicki can come up with a clever comeback, he forces her thighs further apart, sliding his tongue up her slit.
"You petty ass motherfucker." She hisses, feeling her body tingling for more.
He snickers sinisterly and begins to suck on her clit through the thin fabric of her thong while staring up into her eyes.
"Your panties are already soaked, you were thinking about me huh, ma?" He whispers, moving them over to the side so he can taste more of her.
"Grind that pussy against my tongue, ma." He urges, firmly gripping her thighs while his tongue flips and slurps.
He tortures her clit and slips his fingers into her wet entrance which catches her off guard and causes her to scream out just a little too loudly. He punishes her by forcing his fingers deeper.
"Shut up and take this shit, you can take it can't you, baby?" He teases.
The sound of him sucking drives her insane, she was so fucking turned on that she slipped her breasts out of her bra and started kneading and licking her breasts which drove Abel crazy.
Nicki curses repeatedly under her breath and throws her head back in total ecstasy when he starts to suck harder just like she likes it, making her clit harden in his mouth, as his fingers relentlessly probed in and out of her.
Heat rushes throughout her body and in between her thighs.
Nicki's pussy was succulent, Abel could eat it all day if she'd allow it, his favorite place was in between her legs and he knew that his tongue game was the best that she'd ever had.
Her thighs tremble and her toes begin to curl inside of her boots when he begins to devour her as if she is the only form of nourishment that he would ever possess.
Nicki was a moaning mess, inching closer and closer to her release as her hips grind desperately and her breath hitched.
When Nicki is mere seconds away from exploding all over his face, Abel suddenly stops and stands with his face and beard coated in her wetness.
"What the fuck!" Nicki gripes, heaving slightly as her stomach twists in knots from her neared release that he ruined.
Nicki made an impassioned plea for him to continue pleasing her, but Abel had other plans, his desperate need for release made him uncaring. He had to fuck her.
Abel wasn't even trying to hear her whining, his only focus was filling her up with his cum.
He fumbled around with his belt until his erect dick was freed and pulsing hard in his hand.
Nicki was about to curse him out but he shut her up when he wordlessly pushed her back against the door, thrusting deep inside of her with one harsh movement.
All Nicki could do was gasp and hold onto him tight, closing her eyes and whimpering at the fullness that she felt with him inside of her.
"That shut you right the fuck up huh, baby girl?" He teases, proceeding to thrust his hips and give her the deep long strokes that she had been craving for three weeks.
He gripped her thigh, lifting one so that he could dig deeper while his other hand wrapped around her neck dominantly.
"Look at me, baby..." He demanded, leaning forward to kiss her lips deeply.
Her eyes slowly fluttered open and he made intense eye contact with her, watching her mouth gape when he slid balls deep and her eyes water when he hit the right spot.
He loved watching her unravel before him, watching her body submit every time he slides inside of her and pushed her past her limits.
Nicki didn't have to utter a word, her expression said it all. Her eyes squinted and her moans filled his ears as she thrusts against him and cursed under her breath.
Abel was over all the slow shit after a while, he and Nicki never had the time to fuck slow, their sex was always rough and fast.
He released his firm grip on her neck and lifted her other thigh up, taking full control of her body.
Fear took over Nick's expression, she knew what was coming from the look in his eye, she tried to keep a tough expression although she knew her pussy was about to be torn apart.
"You better not drop me down on this floor, nigga." She sassed, trying to mask her fear and excitement.
Abel's brow remained furrowed, he didn't give a fuck about her smart-ass comments because he knew she would soon be rendered speechless.
He began to pound into her core roughly, giving her short and fast strokes that caused her pussy to throb in pleasured pain.
"Oh fuck!" She screamed, no longer caring if anyone heard her.
He kissed the side of her face, lifting her and making her bounce on his dick. "Take this shit, take this dick baby." He grunted.
"Fuck, baby! That hurts so fucking good!" She moans and digs her nails into the back of his neck, gripping him tightly.
He became even more aggressive and began fucking her like he hated her, showing no mercy on her sore pussy.
Abel's pace increased and sweat beads formed on his forehead, he shut his eyes tightly and moaned when she began to tighten up on him. He made her bounce harder although he could feel her attempting to push him out.
"Fuck, wait, Abel..." she whimpers, trembling a bit in his arms.
"Nah, I'm not stopping until you cum on this dick so you better take this shit, ma." He grunts against her neck.
"I can't take it!" She whimpered. "Fuck, please slow down, Daddy!" Abel smiled and shook his head no.
"The next time that you decide to be petty and keep this pussy away from me for three weeks, I'm going to destroy your fucking walls... do you hear me?" He breathes.
Nicki started to cry softly against his shoulder, it felt so good that she couldn't hold back the tears and she knew he would never let her hear the end of it when it was said and done.
"Stop holding it, you are not about to make me cum first so just cum for me," Abel whispers into her ear which made her whine in frustration.
It was a competition between the two, they kept a record of who made who cum first and Nicki had yet to succeed in making Abel cum before her.
Not being able to take any more punishment, Nicki starts to release all over Abel's dick while screaming into the nape of his neck.
"Good girl." He praises her, slowing down his strokes to help her through her orgasm.
The slow strokes make her cum again which causes him to chuckle, she is so mad and embarrassed that all she can do is nuzzle against his shoulder like a big baby and moan.
Her body trembled once again when he finally filled her up with his warm cum, moaning and grunting in her ear as he releases.
They both remained there silent and panting for just a few minutes to gather themselves.
Nicki's pussy felt numb when he finally put her down on the floor and pulled out.
They wordlessly redressed and Nicki quickly exited out of the closet once the coast was clear.
Glancing over her shoulder, she notices Abel leaning against the wall, texting.
He glances up at her from under his lashes and just smirks.
"When I get to your crib tonight you better be naked and waiting for me, I'm not done with you." He says.
Nicki smiles slightly, displaying one of her dimples before rolling her eyes.
"I'll think about it." She yanks down her dress before walking away with a satisfied smile on her face.
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mayhemchicken-artblog · 7 months ago
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I'm curious, in which decade of the 18th century does the part of the story in Varney the Vampire with the Bannerworth Family take place? do you have a estimation?
oh, what a fantastic question. the short answer: time in varney the vampire is so convoluted that it is impossible to give an estimation, so i said "fuck it" and put them, arbitrarily, in the 1740s.
but hey, let's try to estimate it anyway!
first off, wikipedia says the story is "ostensibly set in the early 18th century." i have no idea where they're getting this claim. this story is not "ostensibly" set anywhere. it has 0 ostensibility. it doesn't ostense anything. the details i am about to dig up in order to sleuth together the timeframe are the type of nitpicky specifics only likely to be picked up by a Category 5 Autism Moment, or possibly someone putting together their phd thesis. without further ado!
our first clue as to the timeframe of varney the vampire comes in the introduction, with the following line:
Nothing has been omitted in the life of the unhappy Varney, which could tend to throw a light upon his most extraordinary career, and the fact of his death just as it is here related, made a great noise at the time through Europe and is to be found in the public prints for the year 1713.
this is, as we'll see, complete bullshit.
now let's have a look at the illustrations! they are also complete bullshit. judging from the clothing the characters are wearing, they could be anywhere from the mid-17th century...
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...to the early 18th century...
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...to the late 18th century (pictured: admiral bell. those turned-back lapels weren't added to the british naval uniform until 1767)...
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...to the 1840s...
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...to...the 1940s??? (i'm not the only one who thinks this looks like a trench coat and a fedora, right?)
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so, clearly those aren't an indicator of anything. surely there must be clues in the story itself though, right?
haha. well. about that.
our first clue comes early in the story, when the bannerworths are investigating their family crypt, on the hunch that the vampire (not yet identified as varney) is one of their ancestors. specifically, they suspect a guy named either runnagate or marmaduke (his name changes halfway through) who died 100 years ago. so find out when he died, add 100 years, and we have the time of the story, easy!
"What says it?" "Ye mortale remains of Marmaduke Bannerworth, Yeoman. God reste his soule. A.D. 1540." "It is the plate belonging to his coffin," said Henry,
okay, so it sounds like the story takes place around 1640! good work team, let's--
By the combined light of the candles they saw the words,— "Marmaduke Bannerworth, Yeoman, 1640." "Yes, there can be no mistake here," said Henry. "This is the coffin, and it shall be opened."
...ah.
so, with no way to know which it is, let's try a different approach. perhaps there are clues within the story that will let us place it in a historical context, such as references to historical figures.
As the chaise drove up to the door of the inn, this man made an observation to the other to the following effect,— "A-hoy!" "Well, you lubber, what now?" cried the other. "They call this the Nelson's Arms; and you know, shiver me, that for the best half of his life he had but one."
admiral nelson died in 1805, so...the story is now set in the regency period or later. this timeframe is supported by the prevalence of pistol duels within the story, which according to wikipedia did not catch on until the late 18th century, swords being the preferred dueling weapon before then. additionally, admiral bell is described as wearing "the undress naval uniform of an officer of high rank some fifty or sixty years ago", which for rymer would have meant the 1780s-90s. so, mounting evidence that the story is set in the late 18th or early 19th century.
one last thing we can try: let's see if the later parts of the story offer any hints as to the timeframe of the earlier parts. here's a quote from chapter 179, a point after which the rest of the story happens all in the same period of time, barring flashbacks:
"One stormy, inclement evening in November, a travelling carriage, draggled with mud, and dripping with moisture, was driven up to the door of the London Hotel, which was an establishment not of the very first fashion, but of great respectability, situated then in Burlington-street, close to Old Bond-street, then the parade of fashion, and, as some thought, elegance; although we of the present day would look with risibility upon the costumes that were the vogue, although the period were but fifty years ago; but fifty years effect strange mutations and revolutions in dress, manners, and even in modes of thought."
(yes, that was one sentence. someday rymer will answer for his crimes against the comma)
anyway. so this part of the story, which encompasses the Peak Scooby-Doo Segment, the vampire council, and the entire episode with the croftons, is supposedly set long after all the bannerworths have died:
"Did you not once know some people named Bannerworth." "I did. You came to see me, I think, at an inn. They are all dead."
"Well, gentlemen," added the doctor, "I will tell you what I suggest, and that is contained in a letter, written a long while ago by a distant relation of mine, likewise a surgeon [Chillingworth]. Mind, I do not of course pledge myself at the present time, for the truth and accuracy of a man who was dead long before I was born; he might too have been a very superstitious man."
(speakers are an unnamed vampire and varney in the first quote, and the croftons' family doctor, dr. north, in the second)
fifty years ago, as i said earlier, would be the 1790s from rymer's perspective. charles holland is 21, and i assume the bannerworth siblings are all close to his age, so i would expect anywhere from 30-60 years to have passed for them all to have died. it seems fair to me to assume both chillingworth and dr. north are in their 30s at least, with 40s seeming a bit more likely. "long before I was born" is very vague but we'll say that's at least 10 years, probably more. so the minimum length of time between the two sections of the story is dr. north's lifespan + however long chillingworth lived after the bannerworth section + at least 10 years in between. so we're looking at probably 60 years at a minimum. all that would set the story in the 1730s at the latest, and probably earlier.
unless you believe the introduction to the story, which asserts that varney hurling himself into the volcano (the last thing that happens in the book) happened in 1713, which would, according to all the math i just did, set the bannerworth portion in the 1650s. this is INCREDIBLY problematic for the story's timeline, as that was the Oliver Cromwell period. according to the backstory varney gives to mr. bevan, he didn't even BECOME a vampire until two years after cromwell was dead (even though he also tells him he was terrorizing london during the reign of henry iv which was in the early 15th century...never mind).
you can see why i just gave up and decided to set the bannerworths part in the 1740s and the croftons part in the 1840s and ignore anything rymer has to say about the timeline that contradicts this. i didn't even get into the Time Knot.
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fandoomrants · 6 months ago
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Tua, s4, ep 5 thoughts!
Spoilers!
-Five and Lila travelling for years?! Omg!
-Also them fighting, laughing, and bonding!
-Pls no one make this weird and sexual! That was finally them bonding and showing trust, taking care of each other. Him, helping put the glass out of her leg, and her shaving him and leaning on him. That's just trust!
-Klaus is gonna spend some time in that coffin, wouldn't he?
-Can he potentially die due to lack of oxygen and food, and be reborn over and over again for eternity?!
-I knew he's gonna set sth on fire....
-That was indeed uncalled for!
-I feel that the same thing with Klaus trusting Reginald and then being stabbed in the back by him is repeating again...
-Ok, Ben's mind is really hijacked...
-Yep. Viktor's name is indeed spelled with a K. I knew that, not sure why I started spelling it with a C.
-Can't believe for once Luther is reasonable, and Diego's not. Well, they both usually are but I've always thought Luther is more oblivious.
-Wherever Five and Lila are, the time must be passing differently.
-OMG, dog ghost!! Cute!!!
-Claire was picking up Klaus 🥹
-Allison can just try to rumour the guy.....
-Caire to the rescue!
-Can't believe Allison did that in front of her daughter....
-Aw, Diego learned another language to be able to communicate with Lila's family?!? Cute!
-The place Five and Lila are at is kinda nice.
-..... Thoo, I did say their bond was nice and shouldn't be seen as something romantic in the beginning but ngl, they give me a bit odd vibes....
-Nooooo! 🫣🫣 This shouldn't have happened!
-BOTH OF YOU STOP BEING WEIRD!!!! WTFFF?!
-Ughhh, finee! I get it, I can't read people's relationships right! Every time I decide "oh, what a cute platonic bond", and ha! Nope! Not so platonic!
-I'll be forever mad about that!
-Sidenote (I wanna forget the prev scene!) but where is Gene kinda familiar from? 🤔🤔 Been trying to decide that for 5 episodes now.
-Luther actually trying to bullshit his way out of a situation, lol.
-...And gets in trouble for being nosy.
-Ok, the others got in trouble.
-Not the pants 💀😂
-Yay, fighting to music!
-Why are clothes being ripped? 💀💀
-And a random cat!
-"The moneymaker" 💀💀💀💀
-I was gonna say how are they gonna explain this to Five but Five has things to explain on his own...
-No, really, noo, I don't want this thing with Lila and Five 😭😭 Why is it happening?! It's literally proving Diego was right. Is like, something wrong with them? Like, are their brains messed? I suppose, 6 years is a long time...
-Umm.... Isn't Five a bit afraid of the train...
-Why is he hiding it?! Ughhh....
-Ok, kinda actually really happy Klaus decided to fight his way out.
-Tho, I expected that Allison and Claire would get there then.
-Aw, cute reunion!
-Why is Lila suddenly not worried about her kids, btw?
-But hey, good thing Five gave her the notebook!
-Ok, I kinda get why he's like that but like, he's been through apocalypse and all, he needs a break. But Lila is right, this isn't real.
-Ok, she remembered her children...
-Nah, Viktor, let them shoot him.
-See, bad idea. You got shoot, and he's bitching about his suit!
-I'm not buying the old man's nice words.
-Ouch! That was unexpected!
-But I suppose I guessed right for Reginald's wife?
-Omg, that skin thing is creepy!
-Is she an alien too?
-I think Jean isn't buying it...
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Finally home after a long day of bullshit and laying in bed with wifey watching cody's showdy, and thinking about the line from Kenji that goes
"They gave Ken a couple of days to get his whole life packed in two bags. Just two bags, he couldn't even pack his clothes. And some folks didn't even have a suitcase to pack anything in, so two trash bags is all they gave them. And when the kids asked mom, "Where are we going?" Nobody even knew what to say to them."
The song itself is the story of the Japanese people who were interned in Manzanar, and the Jews who were interned in Germany. But it's also very explicitly about ANYONE who is made to suffer the pain and terror of being forced from your home with little to no hope of return or repair. "The names have been changed, but the story's true, my family was locked up back in '42."
This is a story about Palestine. This is a story about the California Wildfires. This is a story about Hurricane Helene. This is a story about COVID.
The county where I grew up was small, rural, and utterly without infrastructure. It's mostly dairy land, and I used to stick my head out the window and moo at the cattle when my mother srove her shitty little sedan down the highway to visit my aunt. In the 15 years since I left it has swelled by 2000 new souls, largely due to the reputation it earned over the years for having accissble and quality educational options for young children, a rarity in the state.
I started making this post an hour ago, and was looking for a way to check on my home town during the fires. I figured it would likely be safe given its location, but I wanted to know for sure. For an hour I searched for news, for an accessible map documenting the wildfires. For anything that would tell me whether or not the place I grew up was still intact.
I still don't know. I'm sure the information exists. But I am usually able to at least find SOMETHING in the span of an hour.
Information everywhere, but nothing that allows you to stop feeling afraid. Fear, pervasive and bone-chilling, is everywhere and safety feels scarcer with every passing day.
But is it?
This is a story about intergenerational trauma.
My grandmother ran home from her babysitting job one day, at 15 years old, sobbing and distrought, and told her mother what her charge's father had done. Her mother got her cleaned up and told her to never tell anyone what had happened ever again, and quietly informed the other mother that my grandmother would not be back.
When my mother was 15, she fell off a swing set while goofing off with her sisters. My grandfather told her she deserved the pain for her stupidity and not to cry to him about it since she could have been responsible. My grandmother told her that at least now they had an excuse to fix that ugly nose of hers as she iced her daughter's face, and brought her to the hospital right away.
When I was 15 years old, my mother had moved me across the country to a place where I knew nobody, where the sun never shone, where there was more snowy swamp than serene desert, and I screamed at her that she was taking me from the one place I'd ever been happy and she told me that I'd just have to get over it. I flipped her off, and she slapped me across the face hard enough to make the room spin around me.
When a parent loves their child through the lens of their own fear, they often raise an adult who has endured fear of their own from which to view the world. This is, perhaps, as inevitable as entropy and life itself. And the detail perhaps still influences how that plays out.
I cannot watch the news footage about the California Wildfires because I can smell the ash and feel my lungs tighten and sear around non-existent superheated smoke every time I do. No one ever forgets what that's like. But finding clear information about the realistic risk of my childhood home without 24hr news is difficult enough that as a professional information finder, I was unable succeed. My grandmother was, briefly, a social worker. She got into the job by accident, as is the way of things in my family, and rapidly became a small town folk hero to the community who could count on her to advocate for them. This did not change how she came home to her daughters. It did not change the fear she inflicted on the world around her as an outcome of her own terror. My mother managed the same level of (in)famous community notoriety because of her militant advocacy for same sex civil rights and prison abolition. It took me years to come to grips with what it could mean that I didn't believe queer parents should be treated as inherently abusive to their children while I **did** believe that my mother was abusive and wished someone would save me.
This is a story about breaking cycles.
Today, a man with power over me saw me vulnerable and afraid, and went out of his way to treat me with contempt and use his power to block me from receiving essential care. My wife got me through this experience and left me in the hands of the nursing staff while she helped a man get home from the hospital in the blizzard. When she was gone, the man returned twice more to take advantage of her absence to humiliate me and work to convince others to deny me medical care. When my wife returned, I had been shuffled out of sight, and while tests had been run, I had just been told I would be released with no treatment or symptom management. I updated my wife on the events of her absence, and watched her go very still as I whispered my way through my hurt feelings. When the nurse returned with my discharge paperwork, my wife stopped her and very gently asked "Is it common for doctors in this hospital to belittle patients out loud in the middle of the floor?" The nurse froze. My wife assured her she had been kind, but that it concerned her to hear of this upon return. The nurse immediately relaxed, assured us she would say something, and brought me a wheelchair to help me to the car. This was the most medical intervention offered to me the whole process.
My wife speaks often about how her understanding of conflict resolution began when a delegation of teenage Palestinian children arrived at her school to meet with their same-age peers. She says that sat and talked together for hours the way 15 year olds do, and then finally one of the visiting teens got up the courage to ask "why do your people cheer for our deaths?" My wife has her own focus within this story, but when she tells it I always hear the forlorn meowing of a cat whose home had burned during fire season the month before, finally back after fleeing the inferno to find their people, but there was no house to find the people in.
Fear is everywhere. That will always be true. So fill the world with community and love. Let the world heal over the generations of human life. Be there for each other in ways big and small. And remember that everywhere, we are all human beings doing our best to survive a world that has always been bigger than us. Whether we want to admit it or not.
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stupidstupidratcreatures · 6 months ago
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preface that these are problems that it's only really possible for one to have in a particular and privileged set of circumstances
anyway i've been thinking about this a lot lately and. i've been out, sort of, as trans for a little bit over six years now, and i deeply, deeply regret not transitioning basically at all during that time. i said i had a name and i sporadically told people i had pronouns and that was the extent of it. no clothes shopping no voices no nothing.
currently this is manifesting as me being really sad about not going out of my way to get puberty blockers while those would still do anything. i hate my clothing, i hate my name, i hate the way people look at me on the street, but i think i could be more okay with all of that if i didn't also hate my voice. because the other three i can, like, reasonably avoid.
if i go looking for them i can find reasons to blame my parents instead of myself, and i'm probably right to, but what's really the point? of course they didn't do anything helpful, because why on earth would they? they love sitting on their asses and when i was a teenager they were even more explicit about not respecting me as a person.
and what about after that? sure, the excuse i made to myself was that i was being inactive because it would be less of a hassle to just wait until i was 18 so there was less bullshit, but even if that was true in a way that actually mattered it was still years in between becoming an adult and actually doing anything. not even behavioral or social stuff like voice training (again. caustic to even think about how my voice sounds) or clothing, just the stupid easy shit. go to pharmacy, sit on toilet, feel pain. it took two years for me to decide to actually get what i wanted.
i should be really clear: i've always known i've wanted this. even beyond the vague feeling of wanting out that i had for my entire life, i knew i wanted specifically these things for years and years. years that i just didn't do anything about. not for any reason. just a vague feeling that i wasn't allowed to get what i wanted, because they were things that i wanted
and i know i'm not actually old, and my life is closer to it starting than it ending. (i mean. god willing.) but it still hurts, and my voice still sounds like this, and this is the oldest i've ever been. also, shit is hitting the fan faster than ever, and i wish i was three years into transition isntead of one, because i wish i had had more time living as a human being before it goes to hell even more than it already has. again, particular and privileged set of circumstances.
none of this would sting so much if i wasn't also a dropout-via-quarantine and completely adrift and someone who has proven herself unable to keep a job. i'm starting college in the fall and it could have been my senior year. to quote my sister, we're going to be learning calculus at the same time. i don't know how positive that is for her, but it's terrifying and depressing to me. like, one or the other of "scatterbrained loser" and "closet case" would be... well, i guess i don't know if i would think it was fine. i probably wouldn't. but as it stands one makes it harder to deal with the other than it otherwise might be.
i don't know. not to talk about a website and a movie on a serious post, but everyone getting all misty-eyed about "there is still time" and the ending of i saw the tv glow is acid to me because of the above. of course there isn't "time". there's never been "time". there isn't "time" to get to a gas station when your tank runs out on the highway, but there isn't "time" to just keep driving either. you pull over on the side of the road because you don't want to be hit by a car. and then you call a number and pray.
i think i thought this would be easier for whatever reason. i have no excuse for this, i've known and read more than is practical or useful about gigantic interlocking impersonal systems of oppression and exploitation for about ten years now, but i just thought they would be nicer to me.
#op
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komitomi · 2 years ago
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I hope I'm not bothering you with this request.
Could I request a sort of slight angst-to-fluff and smut request for our Geo Daddy, Zhongli?
Zhongli meets and becomes close friends with a female reader who has a massive crush on him. He is, of course, unaware that she is a female. To him, she just looks like a long-haired male who's on the shorter side.
However, the truth comes to light, when him and reader are in a fight and she ends up getting the front of her top cut open. Shes brushes of the ruined top and continues to fight. Once the enemies are gone, reader is, at first excited, but then looks around in confusion. Why isn't anyone celebrating? Only then does she look down and notice her exposed chest bindings.
Everybody on the field is silent, some whispering amongst themselves. Poor reader immediately covers her breasts in fear and shame. What will happen now? Will her father punish her? What will Zhongli think? So many thoughts were running through her head and it was making her dizzy and anxious. Tears started to form in her eyes as she begs for the whispers to stop.
Then, she felt something warm and soft being placed upon her shoulders. It was Zhongli's coat. The former Geo archon helps her up as he scolds the others for making a fuss about a lady fighting. He asks someone to help get reader fixed up, a new set of clothes and send her to his room.
After getting dressed, reader asks him wonders if she's in trouble. He tells her she isn't, but he does ask her why she's crossdressing as a man when their are plenty of female fighters in Teyvat.
Reader ends up telling him the truth. She's forced to crossdress because her father wanted a son to carry on his legacy and even forced her mother out of her life (aka killed her) so that no one can intervene with his brutal training and parenting. She also revealed that her father gave her two options: she either became a man or marry into a wealthy family.
Zhongli's blood ran cold upon hearing the truth. He even excuses himself so he can leave the room and fume privately. How? How can anyone be this cruel? A young woman was forced to hide her identity and the name she was born with for years, all because of his selfish wishes.
When he returns, he finds her seated on the bed fidgeting her fingers. He tells her that he will talk with her father the next morning to lecture him for his awful treatment of her. She was about to protest, but a firm squeeze of Zhongli's hands on hers has her accepting.
After their talk, she asks for Zhongli to touch her. He's shocked, and asks her if she's sure. She says yes, as she's been yearning for his touch for a while.
Following their nightly activities, Zhongli and her arrive at her residence to talk to her father. At first, her father tried to play dumb but Zhongli sees through his bullshit and goes off on him. After the long lecture, he and reader live together under the same roof.
IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEEEEEE
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