#LOOK SHE'S TALKING ABOUT SOMETHING THAT ACTUALLY MATTERS.

[thaatdigitaldiary]

my eyes are open

paige bueckers x fem reader

hiii! this is a continuation to part one, “open your eyes” as requested! read first for context!

you and paige have talked about moving forward since that night, and from then on its been nothing but reciprocated love.

fluff, sexual content, paige being corny n flirty what’s new, slight angst, inexperienced reader, proofread but this girl got tired mid write so if there’s a mistake, ignore it🙂‍↕️

enjoy! 🙂‍↕️

you and paige have left the party happy and content, but there were still things you two had to talk about. you wanted to be paige’s girlfriend, but that’s something you couldn’t just jump into. you shared your moment after the party, but you wanted to make it special for you, and for paige.

you and jana bought some legos from amazon a couple days ago, and you saved one last set for you and paige. it was a lego rose bouquet, something she wanted for a long time. you intended for this night to be memorable, you build your legos, watch a movie, and you ask the question. but why did you feel sick to your stomach? you started to contemplate committing to paige, you being so unknown and paige having a camera in her face everywhere she went. you were a nobody. you couldn’t be seen with paige, she was a celebrity.

you brushed the thought out of your mind for tonight, not wanting to worry her, as your facial expression told a thousand words, and you sucked at hiding how you felt. paige knew you front and back too, that was her specialty. whenever you were sad, she always knew. but this was different. you needed to get it together, so you could avoid what comes next.

you put on some low waisted plaid pajama pants and a cropped white tank, and grab your keys and the legos you bought to go over to paige’s apartment. you throw on a pair of your ugg slippers, and head out the door. you’re a nervous wreck to say the least, rehearsing what you’re actually gonna say to paige, and let her know how you feel about moving forward. but did you even know what you wanted?

paige was all about you for years, admiring you when you weren’t looking, complimenting you anytime she got, and being there for you when you needed her, every single time. paige was your comfort person, and a million thoughts swarmed in your head, hoping dating each other wouldn’t mess things up between you two. you truly loved and cherished paige, not missing a single basketball game, whether it was a home or away game, and even going to support the team when she was injured. paige never had someone do that for her, which is why she fell ten times harder for you.

you drive to paige’s apartment, smile on your face, and feeling somewhat better knowing you’ll get everything off your chest, you two will talk, and hopefully in the end it’ll all be perfect. paige was perfect. you loved all six feet of her, her long blonde hair cascading past her shoulders, her blue eyes filled with love and admiration, the way she was so corny it was adorable, wanting to be by her side for the rest of your life, no matter what it took.

paige has dated other girls before, but one thing you noticed is they never stayed around long, paige always let you or basketball get in the way of the relationship, not having time for the other girls in her life, ultimately making them leave. paige didn’t really care though, because they weren’t you. you had a spark paige didn’t see in anyone else, your smile, your kindness, the way you stayed even when paige was going through some of the toughest moments of her life, you never left. she fell in love with you years ago, but was unsure of how you’d take it.

you pull into paige’s apartment parking lot, taking a deep breath and grabbing the plastic bag with the legos you planned on building with her, and taking your keys out of your car. while walking to her door, you texted her “i’m omw up”, and with that paige texted back “door’s unlocked mama”, making you blush slightly at the nickname, even though she’s been calling you that for years now. it was different now though.

you let yourself in, and paige immediately paces to her front door, opening my her arms for a hug. you hug her, and she takes in all of you. your hips, the way your pants sat low right on them, loving how the cropped shirt you wore left little to the imagination, the tanktop showing enough to distract paige, and your gold locket sat perfectly on your neck, one piece of jewelry you never took off, with the cutest picture of younger you and paige. “i missed you so much ma,” paige tells you, going in for a kiss. you two kiss, the time apart making you feel desperate for her, not wanting to disconnect your lips. the kiss was pure, and it makes you smile, knowing paige was your real first kiss. you never told paige you didn’t have much experience, she just assumed you’ve done something with somebody in your life, but feeling too scared to genuinely ask. after you two kiss, paige rests her hands on the exposed skin of your hips, her hands mildly cold, the sensation being something you didn’t mind. she looks down and sees you holding the plastic bag, which contained the legos you two are going to construct tonight, and after you were done with it, you planned to ask paige to be your girlfriend. “is this for us? what’s in it lemme see,” paige tries to take the bag from you, but you snatch it away from her. “it’s a surprise baby, go sit,” you say, making paige raise her eyebrow at you and smirk, making you laugh. “shit, yes ma’am,” she says, winking at you. her corniness made you giggle, a noise she loved hearing.

paige sits on the couch, and you take the lego set out of the bag. “oh shit y/n, i’ve been tryna get this one for weeks, they’re always sold out! how did you get this?” she says excited, already unboxing and laying out the plastic bags that were inside. “baby, amazon is a thing.” she looks at you and jokingly rolls her eyes, and you kiss her forehead. those little gestures made paige melt, kissing her forehead, her hands, and her cheek, making things so much more lovey dovey and nurturing, bringing a smile to her face.

you two listen to her playlist and build, determined to finish no matter what time it was. sometimes you would take breaks and just watch paige put the pieces together. you did this a lot back then, when she would play games on her ps5, the way her veiny hands worked around the controller, making you think thoughts that are so wild, you had to keep them to yourself. her hands work skillfully on the lego set, driving you mad. you thought you were being subtle until she says “you like what you see ma?” and the truth is, you did. not just her hands, but her. she had on a white sports bra and basketball shorts, her hair slicked back in the bun you loved so much. you don’t respond to her comment, but you do blush and roll your eyes.

even though this was a good and memorable moment, your poker face sucked. you looked worried, lost in thought, and paige knew that. she stopped the piece she was putting together, and looked at you. “ma look at me.” you lifted your head up and put on a fake smile, trying to cover up the fact that you had so much to say, but didn’t know how to say it. “what’s going on with you mama?” she saw right through you. “nothing baby, let’s keep building,” you say grabbing another piece, but she doesn’t budge. she takes the piece from your hand, and holds it. “talk to me. please?” and with that, your fake smile drops, and your whole face shifts. “paige, are you sure you’d wanna date me? there’s so many people on your level, i mean shit, nobody even knows my name.” paige’s look softens, knowing this has been on your mind for who knows how long. “i just don’t want you being with a nobody i-,” paige cuts you off. “hey baby no, you’re not a nobody. i don’t care about people not knowing you, cause baby i do. that’s all i need, you’re all i need.” you start tearing up, being a sensitive person, any sentimental speech automatically made you cry. paige takes your hand and kisses the back of it, and cups your face with her other hand. “baby i love you, hell, i’ve loved you for a long ass time, just waiting for the perfect moment to let you know that.” you look at her, eyes soft and teary, and you smile. “i just have one question.” paige states, and you look at her, waiting on the ask. “i really, really love you y/n, and i’ll do a whole big thing soon but, i want it official. will you be my girlfriend? you’re stunned at first, but you jump in her arms and kiss her. you let go and respond, “of course p.” paige is ecstatic, with the finished lego and a beautiful girlfriend, she has everything she needs.

you two sit on her couch, admiring one another and just talking, when another question surfaces from paige, making you nervous. “was i your first kiss?” you hesitate with your answer. “yeah, it’s kind of embarrassing. you know i’ve never really dated anyone.” honestly, paige was happy it was her and not anybody else, because one thing paige knew, was that anything you experienced, she was determined to make it special. “mama that’s far from embarrassing, i’m glad i was.” you smile at this information, happy your girlfriend was so understanding. there was a moment of silence, as paige looked you up and down before she spoke again, saying one simple thing. “cmere.”

you climb into paige’s lap kissing her with so much passion, you were surprising yourself. “fuck baby, for your first time you know what you’re doing,” the both of you laugh, while paige nuzzles her head in your neck, and kisses it slowly and carefully, making sure not to miss a spot. “you smell so good mama, whatchu got on?” she licks her lips at your scent, and you moan softly as her lips connect back on your neck. “shit p, i can’t tell you fuck-, it’s a secret.” your tanktop strap falls down a little, giving paige more access to this neck of yours, that smelled so fucking good. “you keeping secrets from me baby? you don’t wanna tell your girlfriend whatchu got on?” she kisses lower down your chest, making you moan quietly, nervous to see where this goes. “can i take this off?” paige asks, referring to this tanktop, that can’t seem to get out of her way. “yeah baby, take it off.” she doesn’t hesitate, practically ripping the shirt off of you, revealing the black lacy bra you wore, just for her.

in the midst of you kissing, paige noticed your body language. you were tense, and she knew that. “mama, you doing okay?” she asks with concern, wanting to make sure you were good before she continues. “yea-yeah, im just-, new to it y’know,” she stops kissing your neck to look at you. “baby i got you okay, if you don’t wanna do this i’m perfectly fine with just holding you.” you sigh of relief, and wanting to continue. “i’m okay, i want this, i want you.” those words alone made paige hungry for more, needing you so bad. “you sure mama? talk to me.” she needs complete confirmation, before she shows you how much she loves you. “yes, i’m sure, just-, please touch me.”

she lays you down on her couch, unclasping your bra in the process, throwing it somewhere in her apartment. your pajama pants were so loose they were practically doing the job for her, exposing your legs and thighs she loved so much. she kisses around your tits, the sight of them making her weak. “you’re beautiful mama.” she says to you, her words making you moan, her voice alone leaving you soaked. she slowly takes your pajama pants off, the matching black lacy panties you wore, slightly see through. she kisses around your pussy, delicate and slow. “are you sure you’re ready ma?”

“i’m sure.”

she laps at your pussy, the vibration of her moans bringing chills to your core, a sensation you’ve never felt before. “my god paige,” you moan, making her eat you out faster, wanting to feel you on her tongue. “you taste so good baby, all this for me?” she says, talking you through your first time, and you’re getting close already, feeling embarrassed that you couldn’t last long. paige loves it though. “cmon mama give it to me, fuck-, let it out baby.” this brings you closer and closer you’re stomach getting tighter by the second. “p, fuck-, please i’m already-“ you’re cut off by your own loud moan, from your core twisting, and all of you all over paige’s tongue. you shake from the high, and paige kisses you, whispering praises in your ear.

“you’re okay baby, i got you, you did so good.” she peppers kisses on your cheek and forehead, allowing you to relax. “but what about you p, i wanna make you feel good too?” she holds your hand and plays with the rings on your fingers, and explains to you that there will be more times for you to please her, but this was for you. you accept that, and nuzzle into her, her long arms wrapping around you, making you feel safe.

you had fallen for paige, but easy to say she fell ten times harder.

paige was perfect for you, your eyes were open, and you got a glimpse of how she truly saw you, the love of her life.

HEY BAD BITCHESSSSS!!! i finally made part two🙄being a full time student make big mama tired, i fell asleep mid proofread once😖. anyways i hope you enjoyed! i also kinda hinted that there will be more of this, (wink wink) i wonder if you can catch it? i hope you loved it! love you guyssss

tags: @rosemariiaa, @patscorner, @ohbueckers, @juspeaks, @bueckerscore, @wbbgetsmewetter

🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[4pfsukuna]

She want a big dawg

Inspo: that trend on tiktok and yall know the one. Somebody made a edit to him to this and i seen the vision. Plus the girlies been saying they tired of smutt so

warning: its purely fluff; 865 word

Being ex military Terry always felt like he was on guard— being a light sleeper, always scoping the scenery out, early morning 6 mile bike rides but there was just something about you that put him at ease.

You were so soft, gentle, always finding the humor in something even if you did have a bit of a dark sense of humor. The scent of coconut always lingered on your smooth skin and your lips stayed pink and glossy no matter how much you licked them. 

The way you thought you could command him to do something even being nearly half his size when all he had to do was give you complete eye contact and you would fold like a lawn chair. All you had to do was bat those pretty brown eyes up at him and that man would build you a house anything to keep that smile on your face.

And in the evenings he loves sitting on the porch with you more specifically he’ll come find you wherever you are in the house, wrap his large arms around you and carry you listening to you rant about your day, or whatever book you were reading or whatever you see on social media.

“She dont want no puppy she want a big dog” you sing for the fourth time since he picked you up holding you with just one arm as if you weighed nothing and he just chuckles at you when you place a bunch of kisses on his face.

“You better chill before you start something mama” he leaves a peck on your lips watching the way you look at him with so much love and admiration like he hung the sun moon and stars in the sky just for you.

Ignoring him you squeeze him tighter in a hug loving the way he kisses the top of your head pulling you closer inhaling his scent feeling the humidity kiss your skin the minute he walks to the porch swing. down south was always warm but nothing could beat the warmth of your embrace.

“Babe, you know how much I love you?” You smile up at him tightening your legs around his waist and he holds your face in both of his large palms pecking your forehead, then nose and finally lips.

“What silly little tic tac trend you trying to trick me into now?” He asks, reading you like an open book watching the way your jaw drops. He knew when you were sweet talking him and what for too— you had been singing that song that one specific part for the past two days. 

“Its tik tok! And what you think you know me or something?” You playfully scrunch your face up pushing your long dark curls that fell from your bun out your face. He chuckles, angling his head down to you watching you squirm instantly. No matter how long yall was together it was certain things he did that still gave you butterflies and made you nervous.

“Baby girl don't insult me, of course i know you” and he pulls you back to him tightly closing his eyes enjoying the sound of nature as day turns into evening. “And i know if you keep pulling away from me imma have to really pin you down”

Terrys love language actually was physical touch, loved having you in his arms, carrying you, waking up in the morning to you still cuddled up to him or when he’s making breakfast and your little arms wrap around his waist grumbling about him leaving you and the bed being cold without him. Or when it’s your turn to cook dinner and he steals kisses knowing you don’t like to be bothered when you cook, always successfully fishing when you swat at him for trying to steal food from the pot. So who were you to deny this time as if your love language isn't spending time together.

You finally settle in his arms, head on his chest yet halfway on his upper arm and he sinks further into the swing slowly rocking it back and forth, left arm running up and down your back unaware of your antics until something catches his ear.

“She dont want no puppy” the music plays and you try to sit up as if he made empty threats tightening his biceps around your shoulders, he definitely was not against pinning you down. “She want a big dawg”

Opening his eyes he looks down at you watching how contempt you look with him squeezing tightly around you not even bothered in the slightest only looking up when you see him looking at you through the camera.

“Ok ok im done go ahead put your old man music on” you giggle happily. you got your video and his muscles were wrapped tightly around you, even placing a kiss on his bare chest before laying back down. Ignoring your slick comment he puts on redbone by childish gambino and like clockwork your hands start running over his back and arms slowly and softly turning him into putty, unraveling his muscles slowly putting him at ease like you always do. 

[jockwrites]

LUST - p.b

hi this is chapter two lol

warnings: angst, asshole paige

part: 2

a/n: this is pretty short lol. also the songs i put are basically what the chapters are based off of! sorry if that wasn’t clear, it’s basically some “playlist” thing i see other writers do!! 🙂‍↕️ also im basically putting you guys on..

its been 6 days since you’ve broken up with your boyfriend.

you and paige have been hanging out every day since, and you can say these have been the best days since you two have met.

right now, she’s at practice. that means you’re all by yourself.

you decide you wanna go down to the lobby, maybe grab a few snacks.

you check your phone before you leave, no calls or texts. that’s boring, and it sucks.

anyway

you put on your slippers and head out. as you’re walking you see paige’s teammate, ayanna.

“hey, ayanna. don’t you guys have practice?” you ask.

“huh? practice is tommorow” she says, laughing.

but you found nothing about that sentence funny. at all.

“well.. paige told me you guys have practice today?” you say confused.

“well blondie is lying. why she tell you that?”

“i don’t know. she said she had to leave for practice around like 1 earlier and i haven’t heard from her since.” you say, annoyed.

“whattt? girl its 9pm. no practice lasts that long regardless.. how vulnerable are you?” she says, giggling.

“ok shut up. can u text her? ask where she is? pleaseee?” you ask with puppy dog eyes.

“alright alright. gimme a minute,” she pulls out her phone, going to text paige.

as she texts her, you see her expression change. she’s looking weird.

“what is it? where is she?” you say, worried.

“she’s- she’s at her cousins.” she says nervously.

“are you lying?”

“no? i’m not. but i gotta go, ill see you around.” she speaks, walking away hurriedly.

you look around, wondering if you’re crazy.

you pull your phone out of your pocket, going to text paige.

hey, where r u?

you sit and wait. might as well get your rice krispy treat you’ve been wanting.

you walk over to the vending machine, putting in the dollar to buy your treat.

*ding*

*ding*

*ding*

“holy shit what the fuck dude” you whisper to yourself as you get 3 messages back to back from your friend.

you open the messages, and your heart instantly drops.

“what. the. fuck.” you say in your mind.

what the fuck? don’t you guys like .. idk talk?

that’s exactly what your friends message reads.

it’s three pictures of paige walking with some girl. and the third picture..

they’re holding hands.

all of a sudden, an incoming call pops up on your screen from your friend.

“holy shit girl isn’t that your little girlfriend?” says your friend over the phone.

“dude. where are you? how’d you get those?”

“i’m at chick fil a right now, and then i seen THEEE paige bueckers like omg woah then i see her with some girl that wasn’t you and that’s definitely like a omggggg woahhh reaction and so i-” she rambled.

“shut up for a second jesus. holding hands is like actually crazy. alright i gotta go.”

“alright bye babe but talk to her or something and fill me in on the tea pleaseee ok bye love you!!!”

you hang up. you don’t know how to feel right now.

you’re so overstimulated.

you walk back to your room, tears ready to fall from your eyes.

you check the message you sent earlier, and you realize you’ve been on read for ten minutes.

you put down your phone & sit back against your head board. you’re so confused, so upset, so angry.

you feel so stupid.

you start to cry, looking back on everything you’ve done for her. everything you’ve done with her.

she turned you gay, she made you breakup with your boyfriend, and now she’s cheating.

not necessarily cheating, since you guys aren’t technically together.

but that doesn’t matter, you’re off limits to other people and she’s supposed to be.

you don’t hold hands with your cousin like that.

after about 20 minutes of crying, you hear your door open. and speak of the devil, it’s paige.

she walks in, noticing you crying and immediately comes over to you.

“woah woah baby, what’s wrong? are you okay?” she says, confused.

“who is the girl.”

“what? who?”

“the girl! who is she paige?” you yell.

“i don’t know who youre talking about.”

“you know exactly what and who the fuck i’m talking about dude?!” you jeered.

“chill the fuck out,” she tempted, “and if you want me to be honest, she’s just a friend of mine.”

“nobody holds hands like that with their friends. you’re a liar.”

“no way you’re calling me a liar now. i said she was my friend and that’s what the fuck i said. drop it.”

“drop it? you literally said im off limits to other people, so how does that change for you?”

“it doesn’t. i’m just saying, she’s just a friend.”

“whatever paige. i don’t even know how you could do this to me after everything we’ve done for and to each other.” you whine.

“don’t act like a baby now. i’m not the bad person here, you are.” she huffs.

“how the fuck could you even say that?”

“well i’m not the person who left their boyfriend for a girl! i don’t know what you’d expect from me.” she snaps.

“what the fuck? you made me leave him paige! you asked, you convinced, you nagged. don’t flip this shit on me!” you snap back.

“well maybe i wanted to have a little fun. that’s all it fucking was.” she says, an angry look in her eyes.

“take a look around paige, nothing about this is fun to me. read the room. think about how i would’ve felt.”

“how the hell did you even find out?”

“doesn’t matter. don’t flip the subject.” you sass.

“whatever. i don’t know why you thought we were more than a hookup anyway. you’re obsessed and crazy.”

your heart drops. you immediately turn away from her, tears about to form in your eyes.

“get the fuck out.” you snarked.

“alright. i’ll do that then.”

“bye. don’t come back.”

and just like that, you hear the door close. she actually left.

tears immediately start flowing. you feel so hurt, neglected, ridiculed.

you cannot believe the words that came out of her mouth, after everything.

you sniffle and cry, thinking back on the memories you two had.

it would be insane to say it wasn’t more than a hookup. but you guess it was.

as you slowly cry yourself to sleep, you realize this was a mistake.

a/n: hi so this is horrible but pls stay tuned for next chapter, maybe smut maybe not 👅 also someone teach me how to make a masterlist pls??!!!

[taesanluv3r]

crazy in love

han taesan x reader

this is so silly. i luv the idea of taesan being an annoying yapper bf and yn being a silly silly gf <3 lowercase intended, some cuss words, pls ignore any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors. enjoyy!

wc: 1,073

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"be honest with me right now...would you still love me if i was a worm?"

han taesan's laugh echoed against the walls of his cozy apartment, the one he shared with yn ln, the idiot who had asked him the question.

"darling, you know i'd love you even if one day you woke up to find yourself a monstrous vermin!" he'd exaggerate and she'd giggle, calling him a nerd for the obvious line he stole off of franz kafka's book, to which he'd respond with: "if you got the reference, you're just as much a nerd as i am!"

yn gets up and heads over to the kitchen, pouring herself her fifth iced-coffee of the day. "you know you'll get sick if you drink too much coffee, darling" the boy said, chuckling lightly when she rolled her eyes at him, joining him back on their living-room couch. "oh please, you're telling me this like you don't drink just as much!"

it wasn't unusual for the young couple to bicker this way. especially because of how similar they were; two yappers - or at least that's what their friend woonhak called them - who happened to fall in love. the living room was their favourite spot in the whole flat. on off days like this one you would find the pair snuggled up on their soft sofa, a blanket each - because sharing one would almost always end up in an argument.

the wide-screen tv played whatever movie from the late 2000s they decided to re-watch - partly because they enjoyed the routine, mostly because everything that was new didn't quite compare to the "classics". that didn't really matter though, because they'd end up forgetting all about the movie anyways, preferring to entertain each other instead. it could be anything. something as simple as a conversation about what silly prank riwoo pulled the other day, or what kind of an ugly outfit the girl had seen on a mannequin. sometimes they didn't care to talk at all; sometimes they'd kiss, and other times they'd do way more than that.

"darling, how many times have we seen this movie?" taesan asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the familiar scene appeared on the television. "i mean it's not even christmas time yet? why are we watching 'love, actually' again?" his girlfriend gasped in disbelief, looking at him as if the answer was obvious.

"for baby thomas brodie-sangster."

the boy scoffed, "oh please, the man is like- in his mid-thirtees now and he still looks like a baby!" she rolled her eyes again, "well duh! that's his charm! now shut up, you're annoying" she said, glaring at him coldly. it didn't last long though, the minute he shot her that stupidly adorable smile of his, she had forgotten all about how annoying her boyfriend was. her eyes went soft, the pout on her lips turning into a smile of its own.

"what?" he asked, tilting his head unconsciously to the side. he already knew the answer though, just because this has had happened countless times before. his hand moved to caress her cheek, the warmth of his touch making her blush. and then he said, in a voice so proud and almost cocky:

"falling in love with me all over again?"

he expected a nod, an agreement from her, but what he got instead was the shake of her head and an obnoxious giggle. "no...just wondering how i ended up with you- i mean a billion fish in the sea and i ended up with han-can't keep his mouth shut-taesan-ow!" taesan grinned as his girlfriend smoothed her palm against her head where he had jokingly slapped her.

"no, babe that one actually hurt" yn said, putting an end to his glory. his gaze softened and he was quick to react. "shit! i'm so sorry, darling..." he spoke softly this time, just above a whisper, and he pulled her close towards his chest. the boy pressed about a million kisses over the same spot on her head; again and again and again. it was sweet at first, the girl was just about to forgive him- well, until the innocent kisses became ticklish.

"tae...taesan...stop! it tickles!" those were the only few words she managed to muster out in between her laughs. in his usual menacing ways, the boy pretended not to hear his pleading girlfriend. instead, he thought it'd be a great idea to just straight up tickle her on purpose.

"haha! this is what you get, baby. i'm not stopping until you admit you're crazily in love with me...or until i get tired, whichever comes first" taesan taunts as his fingers continue to poke at her sides. "ah! never!" yn yelled, using all the strength in her body to flip him over, landing him on his back. she used his strategy against him, fingers rapidly tapping against his lower abdomen. "fuck..." she stopped and cussed, sitting completely still on his lap.

"you're not ticklish?"

he shook his head, a stupid smirk gleaming against his lips. "ugh, i hate you" she mumbled, giving up and falling down against his chest. his arms wrapped around her waist, her head nuzzled into his neck. "i win...now say it" taesan spoke, stroking her hair sweetly and tucking a couple strands away behind her ear. yn sighed dramatically as she sat up again.

"han taesan, i am crazily in love with you!"

the boy couldn't help but smile, breaking into a loving set of laughter, his hand moving to cover his mouth out of habit. contagious, she smiled as well - even if she hated the fact that she had lost - "i love you too, yn ln...my darling" he grinned, leaning into her lips and closing off any of the excess space between them.

"mm~ i like the taste of this lip-balm...you know if you use it more, i'll kiss you more" taesan said, licking his lips as they parted with her cherry-flavoured ones. "liar...you'd kiss me just the same amount with or without!" she argued, "and what makes you think that?" he retaliated. "cause you're obsessed with me!" her statement makes him laugh, "and you aren't?" he chuckled when she didn't respond.

"that's what i thought"

yn just hummed after that, not really planning on arguing any further. partly cause she was tired from all the tickling, but mostly because she just couldn't. taesan was, correct! afterall, she is just...

crazily in love with him.

the end.

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this was supposed to be a sungho fic but i accidentally wrote it TOOOOO taesan so 😭 but i will write a sungho fic soon so yeppi fans don't sue me pls </3 anyways hope u enjoyed! sorry i havent been as active as i used to be :( tysm for reading, reblogs/feedback r appreciated!! love, kona.

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perm taglist:

@en-dream

[siscon-stsg]

Offering anon here. I'm giving myself an official name, which is brainfucker (or motherfucker, iykyk) anon.

First of all I'm so glad you enjoyed it ahhhh <3

Second of all it's my pleasure too!! No way I'll do this shit anywhere else 😞

Some rambles about the Y!Little Brother!Satoru with Older Sister!Reader who was the previous strongest.

I imagine reader to be around 9 years older than Satoru.

You had a VERY harsh upbringing. I'm talking Zen'in level abuse. You were forced into the role at such a young age, having no friends whatsoever. But unlike Satoru, you were given nothing.

The only thing they had was the title.

So imagine how you felt when Satoru came into the picture. Oh the rage you felt, pure unadulterated hatred.

The abuse you received, all the harsh Trainings didn't stop. Oh no, they only got worse. And all you could do was blame Satoru.

You escaped moved out the first chance they got.

Okay, let's go back a little bit. What was Satoru's point of view? Well, at first he wanted his sisters love. He looked up to her, she was the strongest! He wanted to learn from her. But they didn't reciprocate. They shunned him, avoided him.

At a later age, maybe ~7 he didn't really care. The clan told him she was worthless, no longer the strongest. It worked. Temporarily

All is fine for you. You became just another sorcerer, living her life fighting curses and going to crappy bakeries, but you were content with that.

At that point in time, so around the time Satoru is in Jujutsu High, he doesn't remember ever having a sister. Everything goes just as it did before. He dies, revives, Geto defects, Shoko is left alone, he becomes a teacher.

And here, when he's a teacher, shit goes down. Because guess what? You landed a job in the Kyoto school. And really, you never expected your kin to become a teacher in the twin school.

So imagine your surprise when you see him at the goodwill event. It didn't take a second for you to recognise him, for your body to go rigid.

Unfortunately for you, he notices it. He's confused—who are you? He's never seen you before, so why are you so familiar? What a pain, he'll have to ask Utahime later.

He strikes a conversation with you, which you're less than thrilled about. You're even meaner that Utahime! How could that be? What did he do to you?

He asks Uta the first chance he gets (he almost got a beating!) and fuck is she appalled. How dare he not know about the previous strongest?! His sister no less!

He's stunned.

Sister?

How could that be? He didn't have a sister. And then he remembers, his little self vying for her attention.

For your attention.

You think you're safe. He didn't seem to recognise you, thank god. You already made it a point in your mind to quit the first chance you get. Run off and work in some random cafe or anything. Luck is not on your side, because Satoru won't let you go.

He goes for a conversation again, except this time it's going to be very different.

"Heeey sis'!" He grinned, leaning down to meet your eyes. He reaches up to uncover his own pair(s). "Long time no see, aye? My wittwe big strong sis'!" The way he said it was so condescending. And fuck, you punched him.

He faltered. You... punched him. You penetrated his infinity. That— oh. Fuck, he was hard. Something snapped this moment. You were meant to be.

But you didn't seem to share his sentiment. Well, no matter. No one is going to miss you anywag, and he was the strongest. (Don't worry, you're right behind him!)

So he... borrows you. Coddling you, cheering you up for not being the strongest! "Aww, it's okay baby! You're my strongest, my big, adorable sis'! You don't actually hate me, do you? You're just envious of your little brother! But it's okay! I love you!"

Good luck.

It's not the actual short fic, more so of a ramble about what's to come. I'm currently rotting in school, so that's an interesting place to write this in. No wonder I already failed one year with more on the way ><

Also I had another epiphany!

Mother-father-something (Yandere, but that's my default) Kenjaku with daughter reader who's their greatest creation! Their sweet little trophy. So much better than their failures of siblings (His words not mine!)

WAAAAAHHH FRIENDDDDD!! i already gushed a lil bit in DMs about this nyehehehehe...BUT!

HELLOOO piercing the infinity???!¡? OF COURSE satoru's masochistic ass would be into that safsadsadsadsa. oh god oh god oh god.

this has some potential for some heavy infantilization...like, he's coddling you after all the shit the others put you through! you look so stressed, big sis, let him help turn that frown upside down! :)

but also he'd be soooo needy. he needs your approval so bad, you see? :( he lost you once, you left him behind once, and he's not letting you do that again. never. you're gonna be together no matter what it takes.

you're his little pillow at night, you act like a partner more than a sibling. but at the same time you're the strongest, right? so you can handle a little bit of roughing up here and there! deffo doesn't get off to being punched by you when you try to escape...

(also i am always blessed by kenny ideas oomph finally, some good fucking food. being kenjaku's favorite is probably just as bad, if not worse, than being his most hated ayyy i love that brain so bad)

[luc1dvisual]

discreet — karina x reader

pairing: idol!karina x idol!reader (aespa 5th member au)

synopsis: winter calls karina looking for y/n but does karina know more than she is leading on?

warnings: explicit nsfw content ahead

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything!” You can hear Winter from the other line of the phone.

“Don’t worry, you aren’t, I’m not doing anything important.” Karina tells her fellow member. She wouldn’t want her to worry for no reason, of course. “Manager Shin just wanted to let you that your solo performance will be released on Spotify soon and you will promote it on music shows in a few weeks. He tried to call you but it kept going to voice mail for some reason..” Winter rambled, almost nervously but what would you know? Karina laughed confidently, her sultry voice ringing through the air in a elegant way. “That’s odd, it says I have no missed calls from him, something must be playing up with my phone, I’ll go get it fixed soon.”, Karina was clearly annoyed but being on the other line of the phone, this annoyance was barely noticeable. Winter finally asks after a brief pause, almost like she was thinking “Oh yeah! Have you seen Y/N by any chance?” she asks in a innocent manner, clearly not knowing the truth of the matter..

You were currently sitting on Karina’s lap, bare naked with your legs open. The older girl was currently almost knuckles deep inside you, using her thumb to simulate your g-spot. You currently have your hand clamped tightly over your mouth, careful not to make any noises so Winter does not hear you. You clearly are making a effort on not getting caught but it doesn’t mean your leader is making that same effort. She would randomly start moving her fingers again when Winter would talk or would slap your ass to startle you. Your the maknae of aespa, one of the lead vocalists and centre. Your members adore you and always tries their best to keep you safe, especially one specific member… Your one of the most popular members and are speculated to be daring any man with a pulse. Little do these clickbait news websites know, you have been in a 2 year relationship with the Yu Jimin herself. You knew each other as trainees and became close friends. Your friendship only blossomed once you debut together and you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel anything for her pre-debut. Despite this, you tried to brush your feelings aside, convinced that the other girl would never feel that way about you. Oh and how wrong you were..

“Was that all, Minjeong? I’m a bit tired and I need some rest” Karina’s impatience was about to reach a new limit and she was actually about to hang up the phone on her member. “Yes that was all.. I just don’t get why Y/N wouldn’t tell us about going home to her mother and-“ You finally break and let out a muffled whimper. There is a beat of silence over at the other line, the obvious confusion and the unmistakable intention of that noise. “Jimin, what was that?” Winter was clearly confused, not trying to jump to any confusions. The members didn’t officially know about your relationship but their suspicions about the mutual romantic feelings for one another started a few months ago when your MC partner was being ‘overly kind’ to you when aespa got a music show win. Karina didn’t say anything but everything that needed to be said was all over her face and everything finally came together for the other 3 members.

“What sound? What are you talking about?” Karina played dumb but she couldn’t even stop the smirk that spread across her face, almost a hint of pride evident. “That.. it was nothing. I must be hearing things. Sleep well.” She hangs up before Jimin could exchange back the empty pleasantries. In this moment, you start to worry that Winter knows it was you and so many hypothetical scenarios run through your head. You about to start seriously stress about the outcome until you feel Karina add nothing finger. “Jimin-ah!” She strikes you on your ass again with a hint of superiority in her eyes. “Watch your mouth. What are you supposed to call your elders?” Jimin made sure to put on a pretentious tone when she asked the question, wanting a very specific answer. You were overwhelmed by the pleasure, shaking from the sensations. “…Sorry..” was all you could choke out as you couldn’t even think of forming words rather than answer somebody’s question at that moment. Karina was obviously displease as she took her hand off your chest and grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking it so your head was up. Jimin looked down at your overstimulated expression and asked “Sorry who? Use your words, baby.” In truth, she felt bad about being so rough but she always does what she needs to do she could get her way. That’s just the way she is, that’s how she got to debut you and her in the same group. You realise what she wants and you finally say “Sorry unnie..”. A familiar smug yet so attractive smirk spreads across her face. She kisses you on the cheek and says “Good girl.. now let unnie take care of you..”

note . . .

got this random burst of energy to write so that’s what I did! really wished I wrote more fics but I mostly did reading throughout the holidays and recharged after such a intense exam period. will try and write more, especially if I start getting requests

navigation: kpop masterlist , aespa masterlist

[archive-doll]

dog!ghost, the touched-craved puppy.

requests are still open! forgive the grammar.

trigger warning for homelessness, and eating disorders due to being poor. Abusive childhood. Unhealthy coping mechanisms. Mention of a knife fight - scar on his face. Mention of food. I think that's all?

It can go so many ways, I truly think for hybrid's au, the type of species you are, influences some traits of your personality, not in a cliché manner, but more for little mannerisms and so on.

In my troubled mind, he is a cane corso, no doubt about it. A massif dog, a beast of nature even for his kind - the ground trembled beneath his feet, no matter what shape he was in. In a way, he reminds me of Cerberus, the mythological dog from hell. I think he hides behind it, protects himself from society, and slides into that role.

He definitely does not like other people. He's a stray, hardened by his tragic childhood, and then he got recruited by the military.

In this alternative universe, he does not search for it, actually, he's content in doing odd jobs and haunting the streets of whatever city he lives in at that time. Probably moves around a lot for work, maybe like, he does illegal jobs in construction, for the season lives on some boat and is a fisherman, and doesn't see the earth for weeks on end. Simon doesn't want a house, a place to come to because it reminds him of the one he lost, the one that has been stolen from him - tarnished by his deadbeat dad.

He doesn't want to mingle with normal people, he is a ghost and has been long before becoming a soldier.

So, he avoids Manchester at all costs, the city reminds him of too much pain, and too much loss and he still hasn't overcome the grief that came with his childhood years.

But, one day, he works in a little village close to one of these stupid military bases, and goes eat not too far from whatever building he is currently working on, and there are soldiers there. Simon doesn't care and doesn't look, he just knows from past experience they are loud and obnoxious.

Keep in mind, the man is huge - square and broad all over from years of physical jobs. Black ears puff from his hair, twitching at every sound, one missing a patch of flesh from an old knife fight. Sharp fangs poking from his thin mouth catch the light and the eyes, pushing against his lips into a gore curl. Most turn around when they see him, the scars, consequences of his home life, adding to the imposing and threatening aura he has, from being a massive breed.

So, he's eating a bland meal, never putting much money into pretty much anything even for his basic survival, until there is a show that towers over him. Over him. He keeps on eating his raw meat, with cold peas, thinking it's one of his colleagues or one girl that's stupid enough to come close. But, no.

It's a blond woman, face unwavering when they lock eyes, in some civvies clothes but he knows anyway. Simon always knows. She's military. From the way, her shoulders sit straight, to how her hands are steady at her side, to her analytical stare. She smells like powder and something he can recognize that most soldiers have - a reek of metal. Blood.

She talks and gives him a nice speech, but he doesn't care much. All he hears is a good job, something about training and going to other countries, and a warm meal he won't have to waste money on.

His plastic bag is thrown into the trashcan as he follows behind her, dirty blond hair unruly as he wipes his mouth with the back of his paw. Military life will be good for him. It will keep his mind busy, days too. And he will do what he is good at, made for. Hunting.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A few years later, Ghost comes around again. The building is crippling away, and he's behind two of his colleagues, a black mask covering the bottom half of his face and sunglasses on. Johnny, his loud and obnoxious sergeant finds them hilarious. Ghost doesn't care much - except he does.

Johnny is his friend. Kyle, the calmer and more subdued, but startlingly smart man is, too. Even the older man who easily strides at his rhythm, Ghost could consider him one of his mates. They are in this idiot village and go together to eat outside the base, which isn't so stupid anymore. It's remotely a place he feels comfortable in.

They stand in the little shop that sells sandwiches and good meals, that keep his belly warm for the rest of his day when they come around, at the back of the waiting line. They have cat's hair on their jeans, white strands easily noticed on the dark denim that seems melted along the curves of their thighs. He knows he is staring, Johnny tells him about that more often than not.

But Simon cannot look away. They are here, with some earphones on, uncaring of the world around them, of everyone passing by that fills the shop - with heart-shattering eyes. And this time, instead of finally staring at the gorgeous creature there, Simon pays for their meal. Actually, he pushes rudely some bills into the lady's hand behind the counter and points to them with a tilt of his head.

Johnny is snorting half of his brain through his nose, but he waits in front of the shop. He doesn't know it yet, but Simon is not a stray anymore. Neither is exactly a Ghost.

Not when they step towards him, a little embarrassed and ask him if they can offer him coffee. Not when they sit around an atrociously small table outside a coffee shop, sharing their meal, and he feels his broken tail wag behind him, seeing their cheeks swell with food.

@archive-doll all rights reserved. reposting or modifying, including translating or use on AI is not permitted. original characters are not my own but the stories and writing are.

[ineffectualdemon]

To build off the post made by @disabledunitypunk that I just reblogged. As someone with low to no empathy but a strong sense of compassion and justice:

Empathy is a ridiculous metric to measure a person's ability to be a good person

It is actually valuable to society imo to have people who are low empathy in society, especially when something tragic occurs

Because having low empathy can assist in keeping a level head during a tragedy or a crisis. It can let you focus on practical needs and see them come through where a person with hyper or strong empathy can understand how a person is feeling and respond to those emotions

Having low empathy doesn't mean I don't understand that a person is sad or upset. I just am not feeling it with them. I can respond to it and offer support. I am simply separate from it

By being able to disconnect feelings from my friends and loved ones situations I can focus objectively on what they are going through and think clearly about how best to show support

And you might think that's cold and calculating but it was better then when I thought I was hyper empathetic but was really hyper vigilant

And it's not to say I was a bad person when I was hyper vigilant due to trauma and trying to be a martyr carrying everyone's pain for them. I was doing that because I thought that's what I needed to do to help them and because I was expected to do that by certain people

But it was killing me

And my best friend who is very naturally an empathetic person is a great person to have in a crisis as well. We make a really good team actually as she can respond to a person's emotional needs while I can respond to the practical

It's not a persons level of empathy that makes them good or bad. It's their actions

But also "good" and "bad" are often subjective

And before anyone starts going to the extremes I'm talking about in normal every day life. A person being standoffish isn't objectively "bad" anymore then the person being friendly is objectively "good" as an example

It's situational and personal

And being empathetic or not doesn't matter really

If a friend tells me about her boyfriend beating her I don't need to have empathy to go "that's wrong. He shouldn't do that..you need to leave him. Let me look up womens shelters near you"

Empathy isn't a measure of humanity

[wittlesissyb4by]

The Blowout - Chapter 1

They called it ‘The Blowout’. Fitting, because the world has been overflowing with shit ever since. At least, for some of us.

It all happened so fast. I still remember where I was when the knock came. Actually, it was more like a bang. The door sounded like it was being pounded off its hinges. I was so startled, my ass lifted off the couch. The Bears were driving and had the Packers on their heels in the redzone. My own heels raked across the coffee table I’d been resting them on, and ended up scattering the 6 or 7 empty beer cans all over the floor.

Linda rushed down the stairs, looking shaken. She tied her robe closed and peeped through the hole. 

“Kevin McCreary?” A woman’s voice called through the door. “Are you in there?” 

“What’s goin on?” I asked Linda. She looked startled, but also not too surprised. I could see colored lights swirling through the window. At first I thought it was the police, but the lights weren’t red and blue, more like pink and a lighter blue. When I peeked through the curtains, I saw several cars with their flashing lights parked all down the road, but not at every house. Maybe one in every four. There also looked to be several large trucks carrying some sort of cargo.

“Open up or we’ll have to come in ourselves!” The woman’s voice called again.

“Do you know what this is about?” I asked my wife. 

Linda didn’t seem like she was all there. Almost like she was in shock, but she didn’t seem all that surprised about anything either. “I’m sorry, Kevin.” She said. Without a second’s hesitation, Linda opened the door before I could stop her and figure out what was going on.

The woman immediately stepped in, holding a clipboard. She did a quick scan of the house as two large men moved in behind her. Finally, her eyes landed on me, and she smiled.

“Kevin McCreary?” she asked, confirming.

“Uh…yes.” I said, speaking up for the first time, “What is this about??”

“Under the Matriarchal Act 2269, you have been selected for the Pamper Program.”

“The what??”

But she didn’t repeat herself. The two men stepped forward and took me by the arms, pinning me down on the floor.

“Hey! HEY! You can’t do this!” I yelled desperately as the men ripped my shirt off and worked my pants down. “Honey! Do something!”

But Linda was still frozen, watching the scene unfold, like she knew it was coming the whole time.

“Your wife was briefed a few days ago, Mr. McCreary.” The officer said matter-of-factly while other men walked behind her and into my own damn house. They were carrying large white wooden furniture. One piece looked like the bars of a crib as they ascended the stairs like a moving crew.

“Briefed on what? What is HAPPENING??”

My pants were down now, my underwear ripped away, my flaccid penis flopping every which way as I flailed about beneath the heavy hands on my wrists and ankles.

The officer stepped forward, pulling a small, black metallic device from her bag. She ignored my whines and wails as she knelt between my legs. The strange device had two pieces, one was a ring that looped around my balls, and the other was a tiny tube, a very tiny tube that attached to the ring. Linda stood with her arms crossed as the officer deftly took my penis and pressed it into the tube, scrunching it in softly until the piece collided with the ring. She took a set of dangling keys and slipped it into the side, turning some sort of mechanism. When she did, a little red light shone out of the top. The key chain also had a small remote on it, like it was for a car. But when she pressed a few buttons on it, the red light started blinking. She waited several seconds until the light finally turned green.

“Calibrated.” She said, perhaps to herself. She pressed another button.

BZZTT!!

A sharp jolt of electricity pulsed through the ring around my cock and balls. I yelped in pain, body twitching, but the men held me firm. 

“That’s the lowest setting,” the officer said, but she wasn’t talking to me, she was talking to my wife. “It goes up to 10.”

The dial clicked as the officer turned up the setting on the remote. “This is a 5.” All I could do was watch as her thumb pressed the little button. What came before was a tickle compared to this. I could feel the shockwaves coursing through my arms and legs and back of my neck. I writhed on the ground while Linda looked on with a slight hint of pity. After what seemed like hours, the lightning bolts coursing through my nerves finally ceased. The fob and keys jingled as she placed them in Linda’s hand. Linda looked back and forth at the surrounding units like she just got handed the nuclear launch codes and she was in no way equipped to handle such a responsibility.

The officer paid no mind, though. She plopped down on her knees between my legs and dug into her bag once more. If I’d had 1,000 guesses, I still wouldn’t have landed on her pulling out a giant, white, fluffy diaper.

“Lift him.” she said to the men. She almost seemed bored, like she’d already done this a dozen times today.

There was nothing I could do. I screamed and whined and cried for help, pleading with my wife as my legs were lifted and the officer slid the padding beneath my waist. Linda just watched, seeming to take pity, but not doing a single thing to stop it.

The powder formed a cloud over my waist when she applied it. I wasn’t sure if it always did that, or it was just because I was writhing so much. I was surprised by how soft the padding was. I hated to admit it was actually quite comfortable. But looking down at the little bears printed across the front as she applied the tapes on top of them snapped me back into reality. I was a grown man, and they were putting me in a diaper. She gave a small pat of my crotch when she finished, it reminded me my dick was locked in a tiny tube, and another puff of powder exhaled out of the waistband.

She smacked her hands back and forth as if cleaning off dust and debris while she stood back up. “All of the furniture will be moved in and assembled by the end of the night.” she said, “If there is a spare room, we will use that one. If not, we will modify the master bedroom. He will be given a one month supply of diapers, with another delivered during his monthly check-up. He will most certainly try to remove his diaper once we leave, in which case do not hesitate to shock him, and if he remains noncompliant simply call 922. It’s the Matriarchal Officer of Pamper Security office, but we just call them ‘MOPS’, they will pay him a little visit and set him straight.”

She brandished a clipboard. “By signing this, you agree to uphold the law to the best of your ability. Matriarchal Code 691 states that all spouses administer cloth and/or disposable diapers to the chosen party, and follow the guidelines laid out therein. Failure to do so is punishable by fines and perhaps even jail time. Routine inspections will be made to ensure proper handling of the male sub.” The officer handed Linda her pen, dropping her professional tone. “I know this is a lot to put on you, Mrs. McCreary and I’m sorry, but you were flagged as an appropriate candidate. Your husband fits the profile to a T, and they probably noticed you as soon as you filed for divorce.”

That last line punched me in the face. It was certainly news to me.

“You what? You filed for–”

“Quiet!” The officer snapped in my direction, then turned back to Linda with a smile. “You can do this.” she said reassuringly, “it will just take time. This is for the betterment of society. Pigs like him deserve to roll around in their own shit. It’s high time men like him pay the price for centuries of oppression.”

To my horror, Linda actually nodded, agreeing with this crazy woman and her cronies. “I would suggest hiring some help. At least for the first few months until he gets acclimated. Research shows most men typically start to accept their fate around 6-12 months.”

That seemed to calm Linda’s nerves. She gave me one last lookover, eyed my diaper, smirked, and scratched her pen across the paper.

The officer smiled widely for the first time as she took back the clipboard. “Please do not hesitate to call if you need us. We’re here to help!”

And with that, the men clambered off me, and the three cosplaying police walked out my door where the pink and blue lights circled in rows up and down the street. This wasn’t just a one-off prank. This was a takeover. 

To Be Continued…

Chapter 3 just launched on my SubStar! I'm trying to do some world-building with this story as many of you have expressed interest in it. Chapter 2 and 3 are much longer and start diving into the characters. So if you at least like where this is going, go check them out!

[krispycreamcake]

What do u think the diaboys would do if they loved yui/reader but they broke yui/reader too much and now she can't love them anymore because they broke her. (Does this make sense?)

Author's note: so since this wasn't specified as to if this is meant to be headcanons, a story, etc. I'll be making it a reaction, ty for sending this!!

Sakamaki brothers reacting to a broken reader

Shu Sakamaki

"Haa? Don't tell me you're actually rejecting me now? I thought you liked this kind of thing, why can't I say I love you anymore?"

You tearily explain to him your feelings

"..... N-no. I didn't- I wasn't trying to make you resent me, I was just-"

He tears up slightly

"Just talk to me, talk to me won't you? And we can fix this, we have to fix this.... Please I can't lose you too...."

Reiji Sakamaki

"Is something the matter? You're behaving strangely- kuh- That....that face. Is this about your latest punishments? You must understand that... Bad behaviour is never rewarded, it's strictly against my principles."

he looks deep into your lifeless eyes, his own failures reflecting back at him

"What... What have I done to you?"

he begins to tear up as the droplets trail down his face

Auato Sakamaki

"Oi! What's up with ya today? You've been so distant lately. Huh? What're yer crying for? Was it something I did? H-hey calm down will ya? Everything's gonna be fine, as long as I'm by your side you shouldn't cry unless I want you to!"

You timidly try to tell him what's on your mind

"....... Wh-what're you saying? Don't you love the great Ore-sama?....... No- d-don't answer that I.... I'm sorry I asked in the first place..."

Laito Sakamaki

"You sure are a selfish person.... Leaving me like this even after I gave you everything. What more could I have expected from your kind? Usually I like my toys broken but......"

He tears up

"Don't you think this is too much bitch-chan? Stop acting like this I-I need you! Please!"

Kanato Sakamaki

"Dolly.... Why are you lying to me when- WHEN YOU KNOW I HATE LIARS! You do love me! You said you did! Uu... You're just trying to make me jealous so I can bite into you right? Right!? You-You can't do this to me!"

he starts screaming and crying, a hand grasping his face as he looks at you

No.... You'll stay with me forever, I don't care if you don't want to. I can fix you up and make you the most beautiful doll in my collection.

Subaru Sakamaki

"Hey.... What's with that face you're making? Look at me when I'm talking to you.... Look at me! Look at me damn it! I SAID LOOK AT ME!"

he takes a minute to realize tears are gushing from his eyes. He knows that look, he's seen it all too well and seeing it on you, he just can't take it

"Look I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Tell me what you want me to do! Just.... Don't look at me like that..."

[milykins]

TMNT Headcanon – Losing Their Virginity

As much as I appreciate that a lot of the NSFW writing on here portrays the guys as being absolute experts at sex… they had to start somewhere. That is where these come in. Keep in mind they are all above 18 and paired with female characters written in a third-person POV. I am going to write one for each of the brothers. Mikey is first because he is my favourite.

Aged-up TMNT at least 18.

18+ Readers only. Contains sexual content

Mikey's Story

Mikey is not only the first of his brothers to get an actual girlfriend, but he ends up being the first to officially lose his virginity. It happens when he’s 18. Mike was actually pretty well-known in the party scene. Patrolling every night and saving innocent bystanders did have its advantages sometimes. Mikey sometimes would stay out until three, four, sometimes five in the morning, much to Leo’s frustration from having his sleep-deprived brother join them for morning practice.

This is where he meets her. Like him she was a free spirit and loved the party scene. He suspected she was doing it as an escape but since it was none of his business he didn’t think to ask her. She’s the first girl in his life to actually respond to his flirtatious ways and actually reciprocates. Naturally he falls HARD for this girl. They play around in a kind of will they won’t they for a bit until she actually makes the first move and invites him back to her place. He goes, not expecting anything to happen but remains hopeful that he’ll at least get to kiss her on the cheek or something.

Much to his surprise, it is so much more than he could have ever dreamed. Cuddling during a movie leads to some gentle touches, which leads to actual kissing to a full-blown makeout session. Even more surprising to him is catching the scent of her arousal. She liked this, and when she brings his hand to touch her breast, he could swears he could’ve died and gone to heaven right then and there. Still, a small part of him knows they need to talk things out before things go any further. After all, he’s still a mutant turtle. There are certain… differences that she needed to be aware of.

Luckily for him, she’s more than understanding about his anatomy and they go no further than second-base that night. He pretty much asks her to be his girlfriend when the night ends and is over the moon when she accepts. From that moment on he takes every opportunity to brag about his beautiful girlfriend. It drives his brothers crazy and by the end of the month they’re ready to kill him.

Mikey is very attentive and sweet as a boyfriend, but he’s hyper-aware of the fact his girlfriend is human and is secretly terrified that sex might not be possible at all due to how different he is. He does voice his concerns one night when things start to become more intense between the two of them. She assures him that no matter what, she still wants to try. The admission makes Mikey feel like crying.

Their first attempt is a week later. Mikey is so, so incredibly careful and doing his best to stay calm when he enters her for the very first time. He gets about halfway in, locks up, and freezes before looking incredibly disappointed and ashamed with himself. He’d finished before they had even gotten started. That night is a lot of reassurance and soft words of comfort from his girlfriend who tells him they can try again.

The next time Mikey is determined to last longer and actually does his research on how to satisfy his girlfriend first just in case they can't go all the way. He successfully reduces her to a flushed and panting mess beneath him while looking very pleased with himself. She playfully tells him to wipe that smirk off his face and tells him she’s ready. Mikey takes a few steadying breaths before pushing inside of her, going achingly slow. Upon entering her completely he’s trembling slightly as he tries to control his breathing and keep his body from getting too excited. Incredibly, she is able to take all of him, and despite feeling the obvious stretch and a slight burn, she's as excited as he is.

Mikey doesn’t move for several minutes, afraid it will be over before it even begins and babbles away nervously, asking her if she's alright and if he's hurting her. She caresses his face, assuring him that no matter what, she wants this, it feels good for her, and she wants him to feel good too, no matter what. He does an experimental roll of his hips and sees her face change into one of awe and pleasure. A few slow thrusts later, and he’s able to get into a steady rhythm. He can tell she’s enjoying it too from the soft sounds of pleasure he hears and the slight tremble of her thighs as he slightly increases the speed of his thrusts. Very quickly, he realizes that he’s going to finish before she does unless he does something about it fast. Luckily he’s had plenty of practice, and with a few circles of his thumb on her nub, she jolts and cries out. She tightens around him, and he’s completely unable to hold back after that. In the aftermath of their lovemaking they’re both breathing heavily and pause a moment before they both break out into giddy laughter together. Mikey doesn’t think he’s ever been as happy as he is in that moment.

Upon arriving home, Mikey knows his brothers can smell what he did. They’re bracing themselves for him to brag about being the first to go all the way with a girl, but he doesn’t. He’s entirely changed from the experience and wants to keep the moment to himself. It’s not like it’s some badge of honour that he needs to parade around the lair. It was special and intimate, and he feels so incredibly blessed and lucky to have had this experience. He’s hopeful about the future and feels a little lighter moving forward in his life.

The End

The others are yet to come, stay tuned!

[captainmartin20]

earlier this year i remember all the cc fans on here shutting down their accounts when they tried to spin the racism bit on her or they just unstanned i think i was following you at the time and you said something like you were just gonna step away or just not post about her till she cleared it up. do you mind me asking what convinced you to go back to posting her soon after when everyone was like still scared to for whatever reason. i love your account and cc i’m just curious and always admired that you didn’t let it sway you like it did others.

hi anon!

yes I do remember posting that I'll be limiting my posts to only posting about her when it's related to Kate. I guess I kind of fell into the trap of blindly believing what everyone else was saying at first, forgetting that opinions are different from fact. The fact is, Caitlin seems like someone who isn't performative in any way– on and off the court. People will say whatever they want on social media, make assumptions on the kind of person she is, ask her to change her attitude and body language, but she's just not that kind of person. She seems like she would never bend her back to satisfy people. She's does not seem like a people pleaser. She's sometimes selfish on the ball, she'll stand toe to toe with her coaches, punch a chair etc etc. And no matter how many times people will call her out for it, she just does not give a shit. She WILL punch that chair.

We'll probably never see her call out her trolls on social media or during post-game pressers. Even when that fan was crossing the line during the game and allowed to walk back to his seat with barely a warning, she said nothing– not during the presser and not on social media. She said she wants to keep her head down and hoop and that's all she's going to do.

However, we seen that it doesn't mean she doesn't actively try to fix issues she can control. For example, when they made that doc-series following her final year at Iowa, she proposed that they invite Kamilla and Kiki to feature alongside her, even though it was originally just going to be about her. And as a result of the success of the documentary-series, I heard they're looking to do a feature on a new set of college players the following season!

Around the time when the Sheryl Swoopes incident happened, and there were all these outrageous allegations that Swoopes "hated" her, she went on SNL to praise her (along with her other basketball idols) as part of her segment when the focus was on her being the #1 pick. People said "well it's scripted" no shit. It's snl, not a good morning america interview. The point is, she could've made it all about her, all about this big moment in her career but she choose to shine the spotlight on the players that came before her.

When there were all this talk about CC not being a good teammate during the first few weeks of the season, Aliyah mentioned during a presser that CC was a good supportive teammate in the locker room– where it actually matters. Caitlin didn't like a post or send a tweet for the sake of showing it on social media to prove a point.

Then we found out the other day that Caitlin tried to implement a spot bonus for benefit of all the players in the league. For context: a spot bonus is a one-time monetary incentive that's given to employees as a result of extraordinary performance; which, in this case, would be the staggering attendance metrics at the games Indiana played — despite the attendance being mostly due to her (fever has the most games with the highest attendance record x). She said ALL OF US WILL BE GETTING FED ON MY WATCH.

Caitlin has stated multiple times that she doesn't seek validation from others outside of her circle, and that's something that I think resinated with me because back then I wanted to blindly follow whatever the big accounts in this community were saying. Don't be a sheep, folks.

also, she's a really good basketball player and im gonna celebrate that :)

[makethemhoesmad]

sex concept-1

paige bueckers x oc

wc: 1.1k

—

“hey, scar, she’s staring again,” colin nudges, shooting a quick glance over to the seemingly ever-present blonde across the bar. 

“she’s always staring, colin, this isn’t new territory,” i huff, rolling my eyes. it’s not like she actually wants me. no matter that every time i’ve come here in the last two months she’s been here, not taking her eyes away from me.

“scarlett, paige bueckers stares at you from across the bar and you do nothing? i thought we taught you better than this,” odelia scolds. “send her a drink or something! spice it up, you’re boring.”

“send her a drink and do what? go home with her and let her fuck me, then never talk to her again like her other four thousand women? i refuse to be a statistic, odd.” she pouts at the nickname. 

“i know,” colin blurts, snapping his fingers, “tell her you don’t fuck athletes. buy her a drink, and if she sends one back, go over there. when she offers to take you home, say it’s a personal philosophy or something. leave her wanting.” i stare at him in shock, glancing over to odelia who is mirroring my expression.

I sigh. “what do i send her?”

-

after heavy debate and a lot of odelia insisting this is what tiktok told her, i order her a dirty shirley temple, despite my personal distaste for them. we watch her pick it up, then look over at me with recognition as the bartender motions toward who gave her the drink. i see her talking to him, and then watch as he makes his way back over with a shot of something.

“something for you from the blonde young lady over there,” he says, grinning at me. i take it into my hands, shifting so my whole body is in view of the girl across from me. i try my best to sensually pour the shot into my mouth, making a show of licking a drop off the side of the lip.

“scar, she’s coming over here,” odelia says, as she and colin stand up to leave. 

“get it girl,” colin says over his shoulder, smirking.

“hey, pretty, how’re you doing?” i hear behind me, feeling a warm body slip into the now empty seat beside me.

“well, i’m doing better now,” i say, surprised by the smoothness in my voice. i notice her gaze flick from my eyes, to my lips, to my exposed chest, and back up again.

“you got a name?” she asks, moving her hand from the edge of my seat to graze my arm. i shiver, against my will.

“it would be weird if i didn’t, you know? my name’s scarlett, how about you?” i ask, letting it settle for a second in her head that i don’t know who she is, then add, “i’m kidding, paige, i know who you are.” her face lights up a bit, almost like she’s excited i know who she is, like she isn’t the reason some of these freshman girls are at this school.

“so, scarlett, i was thinking about going home, but now i really don’t wanna stop talking with you..” she trails off. i debate asking if she pulls all her girls this way, but hold off.

“yknow, i’d love to, but im just gonna break the news now, i don’t fuck athletes,” i blink up at her, biting my lip in mock concern as i see the cogs turning in her head.

“we could still, like, watch a movie or something?” i suggest, watching her eyes go wide and dart down to my chest again briefly before nodding. 

“yeah, yeah, let’s watch a movie, let’s go!” she nearly squeals, falling out of her cool girl, nonchalant facade. she takes hold of my hand and tugs me out the door and to her car, taking the time to briefly wave at a group of girls that i mildly recognize to be the rest of her team. why she wasn’t sitting with them, i’m not sure. she opens the car door for me like a gentleman, shuts it, then scrambles to the other side and climbs in herself. she fills the car ride with mindless chatter that im sure i respond to, but don’t remember because i’m trying to think of ways not to fuck her tonight. i barely notice when we pull in, and only start to pay attention again when she asks me what movie to put on. 

“we could watch a romance?” i suggest. “like 10 things i hate about you! that’s my favorite ever,” i gush, bouncing a bit to let her eyes drift back down to my chest.

“never seen that one, but yeah, im down,” she answers, sitting down on the couch and patting the spot next to her. i sit down and scoot closer than i should for someone who already claimed wasn’t going to fuck her. i resist against leaning on her, until my head starts to droop from exhaustion. i calculate my options, letting my head drop onto her shoulder. i hear her heart speed up, then feel her lift an arm around me and tug me closer. 

“paigey, i’m a little tired,” i say, slipping a little extra whine in my voice as i bite my lip and look up and her, eyes big. the effect must work, because i watch her pupils go dark as she glances at my lips.

“wanna go to bed?” she offers, sitting up a bit.

“well, i can go home if it’s an inconvenience..” i leave the end of the sentence open. she won’t tell me to go home, but she’ll try harder to get me to stay now.

“no, no, stay here,” she says, too enthusiastically. i grin, letting her pick me up off of the couch and carry us to what must be her room. she sets me down on her purple comforter, and looks at me quizzically.

“you’re really gonna sleep in that, ma?” she’s not wrong. it would be a much more comfortable sleeping experience in a pair of sweats that this tight, cheap dress.

“well, it’s not like i have another option, and like i already said, we’re not fucking, so i’m not stripping.” 

she steps into her closet, tossing me a pair of pajama pants that will most likely be too long, and a t shirt. i throw the top back.

“tits out for sleep or something?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows. i shake my head, swiftly turning to slip off my dress and into the pants, leaving on my bra.

“prefer to sleep in a bra, i get hot.” i say it like it’s obvious, that i would have my tits out and ready for her to not touch. i crawl into her bed and under her covers, letting her tug me into her. against my will, i cuddle closer to her as i drift to sleep.

[wannabehockeygf]

I'll Call You Mine | Clayton Keller

"Somewhere on a green hill, Laughin' so loud, Takin' my body, And you're taking it down."

*** request: "I love reading stuff that involves their family or friends. I know he’s super close to his grandma in his moms side bc of his grandpa and I think it would be super cute if he introduced her to his girlfriend and then she just fell in love with the two of them together. Or like she’s watching them together and his family is like yeah he’s done for." summary: a taste of home for your boyfriend digs up the intensity of everything you're feeling. word count: 4.7k pairing: clayton keller x fem!reader warnings: none, but it's so fluffy and sweet that I got cavities writing this. notes: - hello requester welcomeeeee - jake keller = pesky younger brother in my mind, apologies if he's the sweetest most humble person ever - kells is DEFINITELY someone who falls & falls hard. ***

You’d never been to St. Louis before. Sure, Clayton had mentioned the city in passing, mostly when talking about how much he missed home, but actually being here with him? This was different. It felt bigger, more significant. And you weren’t just here for sightseeing or a quick visit—you were meeting his family, the heart of his world. Not for the first time, the weight of it settled in your chest.

Clayton had a way of making everything seem so easy. He’d already flown his family out to see him a few times, his parents, a few cousins and—his brother Jake, most of all. Jake practically lived at Clayton's place, always around, always offering that teasing grin, as if he knew something you didn’t.

But this... this was the real deal. His grandma.

Clayton adored her. It was clear in every conversation that brought up her name, in the way his voice softened and his eyes crinkled with nostalgia. He’d always said, “I love all the women in my life equally. Feminist, remember?” He would throw in a smirk, as if he knew how ridiculous the idea sounded even to him. But you’d caught the glimmer of truth beneath the joke. If there was a hierarchy, you were certain she would reign supreme.

Now, sitting in the passenger seat of his car as the St. Louis skyline slowly faded into the suburbs, you tried to calm the nervous fluttering in your stomach. Your fingers twisted in your lap, anxiety bubbling up the closer you got.

“You okay over there?” Clayton’s voice broke through your thoughts. He glanced at you, his hand coming to rest over yours. His touch was warm, grounding.

“I’m fine,” you replied too quickly, earning a raised brow from him.

He smiled softly, squeezing your hand. “You’re going to love her, you know? And she’s going to love you. She already asked about you like a hundred times after I told her you were coming.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you muttered under your breath, earning a low chuckle from Clayton.

“Look,” he said, guiding the car around a corner, “She’s just happy to see me happy. That’s what matters. And you make me happy.”

His words settled over you like a warm blanket, quieting the nervous buzz, but still… This was the woman who raised Clayton, who practically built him into the man you loved. Would she see that in you? Would she approve?

Before you could dwell too much, the truck slowed to a stop in front of a quaint, cozy-looking house. It was smaller than you’d expected but charming, with an overgrown garden that hinted at years of love and neglect in equal measure. The front porch swing swayed slightly in the breeze, as if it were waiting for someone to sit and listen to stories.

Clayton’s fingers laced through yours as he helped you out of the car. “Ready?”

No. “Yeah,” you lied with a smile. He didn’t buy it.

“Hey,” Clayton stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His blue eyes were soft, filled with a calm you desperately wished to mirror. “You’ve got this. I promise.”

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath, and together, you walked up the steps.

The door swung open before you could even knock, and there she was—Clayton’s grandma. She was shorter than you’d imagined, but everything else fit perfectly: the kind eyes, the way her smile seemed to light up the entire doorway, and the warmth that radiated from her.

“There he is, my Clayton!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug, and for a moment, you got to see him as something else—not the composed, confident man you knew, but the little boy she had raised. It softened something inside you, made the moment feel… right.

“And you must be the one I’ve been hearing so much about,” she said, turning her attention to you. Her gaze swept over you, but not in a way that made you feel judged or scrutinized. It was like she was taking in the pieces of you that mattered—how you stood next to Clayton, how his hand still rested on the small of your back, how you looked at him.

You offered a polite smile, hoping your voice wouldn’t betray the anxiety still simmering beneath the surface. “It’s so nice to meet you. Clayton talks about you all the time.”

“He better,” she quipped, giving Clayton a teasing smack on the arm before pulling you into a hug that felt just as warm and inviting as her presence. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”

Clayton’s grandma didn’t waste a minute after the hug, ushering you both inside like she had been waiting for this day her whole life. You could feel the warmth of her house immediately—a mix of cinnamon, vanilla, and something else distinctly grandma, like lavender soap. It was cozy, the kind of place that made you feel like you could take a nap and no one would mind. Your nerves, though? Still buzzing, but softening under her hospitality.

The living room was a patchwork of memories—family photos covering the walls, mismatched blankets folded over the couch, and an old armchair in the corner that screamed “beloved but probably ready to collapse.” Clayton’s grandma directed you to the couch while she bustled off to the kitchen, muttering something about sweet tea and snacks.

You glanced at Clayton, who was already looking at you with a reassuring smile. “See? Told you it’d be fine.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled back. “I mean, we’re not done yet. I could still trip over a rug or, I don’t know, break a family heirloom.”

Clayton chuckled, leaning closer so only you could hear. “If you did, Jake probably already has a replacement for it somewhere. Guy’s got backups for everything.”

Before you could respond, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway, and speak of the devil—Jake appeared. His signature grin was firmly in place, and you instantly felt the shift in energy. Jake had a way of owning any space he walked into, like he belonged there, no questions asked.

“Look who’s here,” he teased, sprawling his arms open to pull you into a comforting hug. Once he pulled back, his gaze flicked over you, eyebrows raised in a mock-serious expression before he looked over at Clayton, sitting down beside him on the couch. “So, how’s she doing? We grilling her yet, or is Grandma going easy on her?”

You felt your face heat up, but before you could respond, Clayton clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “No grilling. She’s already won Grandma over.”

“Wow, impressive. Guess that makes you an official member of the club,” Jake said with a wink. “You get a jacket.”

You snorted, leaning back into the couch, trying to match Jake’s easygoing attitude. “Is that what you got when you were initiated?”

“Oh yeah, jacket and a lifetime supply of bragging rights. You’re in for it now.”

Clayton shook his head, sighing dramatically. “I should’ve warned you. It’s too late for me, but you might still have a chance to escape.”

The rest of the evening slipped by in a blur of conversation, laughter, and an almost embarrassing number of homemade cookies. Clayton’s grandma alternated between telling stories about Clayton as a kid (which you tucked away for future teasing ammunition) and fussing over both of you like she hadn’t seen him in years, despite his insistence that he visited all the time. Jake was in his usual form, keeping the mood light with jokes, his grin widening every time Clayton rolled his eyes at one of his comments.

By the time the night was winding down, you were starting to feel the weight of the day settle in. Sitting on the couch next to Clayton, with his hand resting casually on your thigh, you felt more at home than you had expected to. Sure, you’d been nervous—still were, in a way—but it wasn’t overwhelming anymore. It felt…right, like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

*** The next morning crept in gently, like soft sunlight filtering through the curtains. You woke up wrapped in warmth—Clayton’s arm draped lazily around your waist, his breath tickling the back of your neck as he snored lightly. For a brief moment, you stayed still, eyes closed, just soaking in the quiet. It felt like a dream, one where everything was soft and sweet and perfect.

But then, your stomach growled, breaking the peace. You tried to slip out of bed without waking him, but his grip tightened.

“Where’re you goin’?” Clayton mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. He pulled you back against him, his lips brushing your shoulder in a half-hearted attempt to keep you close.

“Just getting some breakfast,” you whispered, smiling at the way his eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep.

Clayton grumbled, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck. “Stay. ‘M comfy.”

You laughed softly, turning in his arms to face him. His hair was an absolute mess, sticking out in every direction, and his sleepy eyes were so full of love that your chest tightened. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Mm, you love it,” he murmured, eyes closing again as he pressed a lazy kiss to your temple.

You sighed, half-heartedly trying to peel yourself away from him again. “I need coffee, Clayton.”

“You need me more.”

His words were playful, but the way he said it, all low and raspy, sent a shiver down your spine. And just like that, you were done for. You didn’t want to get out of bed now. Not with him looking at you like that, his eyes half-lidded but full of something so tender it made your heart skip a beat.

Alas, you had to be practical, so, you successfully pried yourself out of his grip. “If you want to be with me so badly, get up.” You teased, and as soon as you had one foot out the bedroom door, you heard him shoot up, practically chasing you.

You barely made it into the kitchen, the soft creak of the floorboards hot on your heels before you felt Clayton's arms wrap around your waist. His chest pressed against your back, and he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin. A sleepy smile tugged at your lips as you leaned into him, soaking in the warmth of his body once again.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Good mornin’,” he murmured, his voice still husky from sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, turning your head just enough to catch the side of his face again. He looked adorably disheveled—his hair a mess, eyes heavy with that lazy kind of contentment you only saw when he was truly relaxed. 

Clayton’s hands slid from your waist to your stomach, pulling you even closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “You sleep okay?” he asked, his lips grazing your skin with each word.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. “You?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in weeks,” he whispered, his nose brushing against your jawline, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

You could practically feel the grin forming on his lips as he kissed your neck again, this time slower, more deliberate. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “This might be my new favorite way to wake up.”

Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, turning in his arms to face him. His hands immediately found their way to your hips, tugging you closer until there was barely an inch of space between you. His eyes were still so full of warmth and affection, it made your chest tighten in the best way possible.

“You’re in a good mood,” you teased, sliding your hands up his chest and wrapping them around the back of his neck. “Can’t imagine why.”

Clayton chuckled, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers brushed up and down your sides, sending sparks of warmth wherever they touched. “Maybe it’s because I’m here, with you, in my favorite place,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe it’s because you met Grandma, and she loves you. Or maybe…” His lips quirked into that mischievous smile you knew so well. “It’s because I just get to hold you like this. Whenever I want.”

Your stomach flipped at the sincerity in his words. “You’re too sweet,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. Clayton always had this way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you, and right now, that intensity in his eyes made you want to melt into him.

“You deserve it,” he replied, his thumb tracing circles on your waist. “You deserve everything.”

And just like that, your heart practically skipped a beat. You could feel the emotion welling up inside you, but before you could respond, Clayton leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow, tender, and so full of affection that it made you weak at the knees. The kind of kiss that made time stop.

Just as you were getting lost in it, in him, a loud, exaggerated cough shattered the quiet.

“Yikes. Get a room, you two,” came Jake’s voice from the doorway, dripping with mock disgust.

You felt your face flush, caught in the act of being completely lovestruck, but Clayton didn’t move from where he was, his arms still wrapped around you like he had no intention of letting go.

Jake sauntered over to the counter, grabbing a mug and pouring himself some coffee like he hadn’t just walked in on the two of you having a moment. “Man, I knew it,” he said, shaking his head dramatically. “You are so whipped.”

Behind him, Grandma appeared in the doorway, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Told you,” she said to Jake, a knowing smile on her lips. “That boy’s done for.” Clayton groaned, running a hand over his face but not stepping away from you. If anything, his grip on your waist tightened, like he was determined to stay close despite the teasing. “I am not whipped,” he protested, though the slight redness creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“You sure?” Jake shot back, leaning against the counter with that ever-present grin. “I’ve seen you rearrange your entire schedule just to spend an extra five minutes with her. Pretty sure there’s a dictionary definition for that, bro.” You stifled a giggle, glancing up at Clayton, whose face was turning a suspicious shade of pink. He glanced at you, his lips quirking up into an embarrassed smile as if saying, Yeah, they’re not wrong.

Jake snickered, leaning against the counter as if he were settling in for a show. “I mean, look at you! You’re over here, making googly eyes, holding her like she’s gonna float away. Dude, I’ve never seen you like this. You’ve got it bad.”

“Jakey, I swear—” Clayton started, but Jake held up a hand, cutting him off.

“Nah, nah, don’t fight it again, bro. Just accept it. We’re all watching you drown in love, and it’s hilarious.”

You couldn’t help it anymore; a laugh bubbled out of you, and Clayton groaned dramatically, burying his face in your shoulder in mock defeat.

“See what you did?” Clayton muttered against your skin. “Now she’s laughing at me.”

“Oh, I’m not laughing at you,” you said, still giggling. “I’m laughing with you.”

Clayton sighed, lifting his head to give you a look that was both annoyed and amused. “Yeah, sure.”

“Clayton, honey,” she began, her voice full sweetness, “I was just telling Jake how much you remind me of your grandpa. Always so sweet on me, couldn’t go a day without holding my hand or kissing me on the cheek. And look at you, all grown up and following right in his footsteps.”

Clayton groaned again, this time louder, burying his face in his hands. “Grandma, please. Not in front of her.”

“Oh, darling, she already knows,” Grandma replied, chuckling softly as she walked over to ruffle his hair, like he was still ten years old. “It’s written all over your face. The boy’s head over heels for you, sweetheart.”

Jake snickered, nudging Clayton’s shoulder. “Told ya. You’re whipped.”

*** Later that day, Clayton found himself pacing the back porch, the late afternoon sun sinking behind the trees, casting a warm glow over the yard. The sound of laughter drifted from the house, his family still inside, probably teasing each other over whatever had happened after dinner. He could picture Jake with that stupid smirk on his face, still throwing jabs about how “whipped” he was, and honestly? He couldn’t even argue anymore.

It was true, after all.

Clayton sighed, dragging a hand through his hair as he leaned against the railing, looking out at the stretch of land behind the house. His heart felt full, too full almost, like it might burst from everything he was feeling. He wasn’t used to this—this overwhelming sense of rightness that settled in his chest whenever he looked at you. It hadn’t even been that long, but something about being with you made the world make sense, in a way that kind of terrified him if he thought about it too much.

Which is why he wasn’t thinking about it too much.

Except for the fact that now, standing here, watching the shadows grow longer, all he could think about was the future, about you, about... marrying you.

He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as if laughing at his own absurdity. Marriage. Hell, he wasn’t the kind of guy who rushed into things like this, but every time he imagined the future, you were there. Every time. The idea of coming home to you every day, seeing you laughing in his kitchen, hanging out with his family—it was already so vivid in his mind, it felt like it had already happened.

“Lost in thought, aren’t you?”

The voice startled him, and he turned to see his grandma standing at the screen door, wiping her hands on a dish towel, a knowing smile playing on her lips. He hadn’t even heard her come out.

Clayton sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Something like that.”

His grandma just gave him that look—the one that said she already knew exactly what was on his mind. She stepped closer, leaning beside him on the railing, her eyes twinkling in that way they always did when she was about to give him some kind of life advice that would hit too close to home.

“You’ve been quiet all evening, sweetheart. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Clayton hesitated for a second, biting his lip before finally letting out a breath. “I don’t know, Grandma... It’s just... it feels different, you know? With her.”

His grandma’s face softened, her smile warm as she reached over and patted his hand. “Oh, Clayton. I’ve been watching you all day. It’s more than just different. You’re in love with that girl, aren’t you?”

He swallowed hard, glancing away as if the answer might be hidden somewhere in the fading light. “Yeah... yeah, I am.”

There was a pause, the weight of those words settling between them. Clayton stared down at his shoes, feeling the cool breeze ruffle his hair as the sun dipped lower, leaving a faint orange glow on the horizon.

“And you’re thinking about marrying her, aren’t you?” Grandma’s voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the certainty behind it.

Clayton’s eyes widened a bit, his heart skipping a beat. “I—uh—how did you—?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, honey, I can see it written all over your face. The way you look at her... it’s the same way your grandpa used to look at me.”

A wave of emotion washed over him, and for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. His grandpa was probably the person he always hoped the most was looking over him, and knowing he was turning out similar to him made his heart clench. Instead, he just nodded, because what else could he say? His grandma always had a way of cutting right to the heart of things, seeing what he couldn’t quite put into words.

“Do you think...” Clayton started, glancing at her, his voice quieter now. “Do you think it’s too soon? I mean, we haven’t been together that long, but... I just... I know. I know she’s the one.”

His grandma gave him a gentle smile, her eyes full of understanding. “Sometimes, you just know, Clayton. Time doesn’t always matter when it comes to love. When it’s right, it’s right.”

Clayton let out a slow breath, his heart racing a little faster now. He hesitated again before finally blurting out the question that had been weighing on his mind all evening. “Do you think... do you think I could have your ring? You know, eventually?”

There was a brief silence as his grandma blinked in surprise, her eyes widening just a fraction before they softened again. Clayton felt a sudden rush of nerves, wondering if he’d overstepped, if it was too soon to ask something like that. But then his grandma smiled—this wide, beautiful smile that made his chest feel tight. “Oh, Clayton, I think that would be perfect. He’d be so proud of you. And so am I.”

Clayton swallowed, his throat tight with emotion. “You think it’s right?” He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

His grandma shook her head, her smile unwavering. “When you know, you know, darling. I knew with your grandpa after a few months, and we were together for over fifty years. Time doesn’t matter when it’s right.”

Clayton let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “Thanks, Grandma. That means a lot.”

As Clayton stood on the back porch, lost in thought and heart still racing from his conversation with his grandma, Jake—having overheard the entire thing—snuck away, a grin spreading across his face. This was too good to keep to himself. He darted through the house, weaving between relatives, making a beeline toward you, where you were still chatting with Clayton’s mom by the kitchen island.

*** The rest of the evening passed in a blur. You were doing your best to act normal—chatting with Clayton’s family, dodging Jake’s smug glances—but the knowledge that Clayton was actually thinking about marrying you kept circling your mind like a hawk, swooping in when you least expected it. Jake had quickly approached you earlier, panting like he’d just run a marathon, and spilled everything. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to sabotage Clayton or help him, but when he said that you two were made for eachother, you knew where his loyalties lay–with the both of you. And when you probed him further, he said he’d never seen his big brother so happy and wouldn’t want anybody else as his honourary sister.

You were in trouble.

By the time you were getting ready for bed, the thought had settled in like an overgrown houseplant in the back of your mind. It was impossible to ignore.

Clayton had already finished brushing his teeth, now rummaging through his bag for a clean shirt while you washed your face in the bathroom. You could see him in the reflection of the mirror—barefoot, hair still a bit damp from his shower, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he fumbled with his clothes.

And that’s when it hit you. This was it—this little routine, these quiet moments before bed—it felt so... right. Like the kind of thing people did when they’d been married for years. Except you weren’t married. You weren’t even engaged. Not yet, anyway.

As you towel-dried your face, your heart began to race again. Should you bring it up? Or would that make things weird? Was Jake exaggerating? But Clayton had asked for the ring, right? He wouldn’t just do that on a whim.

You took a deep breath, giving yourself a quick pep talk in the mirror. It’s fine. Casual. Just bring it up casually. No big deal. It’s not like you’re the one proposing or anything.

When you stepped back into the room, Clayton was sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone, looking perfectly content, unaware of the chaos in your head. You sat down beside him, trying to act as cool as possible, but the words were already bubbling up before you could stop them.

“So, uh...” You picked at the edge of the comforter, keeping your tone light. “Jake told me something interesting today.”

Clayton glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What’d he say this time?”

You paused, biting your lip as your heart did a backflip. “He... uh... mentioned something about you talking to your grandma earlier.”

At that, Clayton stiffened slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Oh?”

You nodded, keeping your gaze fixed on the blanket because you knew if you looked at him, you’d probably lose your nerve. “Something about... a ring?”

There was a beat of silence.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Clayton’s face flush a deep shade of pink. “Jakey told you that?”

You finally dared to look up, and the sight of Clayton’s expression—caught somewhere between embarrassment and panic—nearly made you laugh. “Yeah. He might have mentioned it.”

Clayton groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Of course he did.”

You grinned, leaning closer to nudge him playfully. “So... were you actually thinking about proposing? Like... marriage?”

For a second, Clayton just stared at you, wide-eyed and blushing, like a deer caught in headlights. Then, without warning, he suddenly slid off the bed, dropping down onto the floor. But instead of getting down on one knee, he dropped to both, crossing his heart with one hand and intertwining the other with yours as if he were pledging allegiance to you.

“I swear on everything,” he began, his voice full of earnest sincerity but laced with that signature Clayton awkwardness, “I love you more than anything. And I know this is probably the worst possible way to say it, but... I do want to marry you. Like, so bad. I just didn’t have a ring yet because—well, I was gonna ask my grandma, but Jake ruined that, so now I have to do it like this.”

You blinked, staring down at him in disbelief as your heart did a strange combination of melting and soaring all at once.

Clayton gave you a sheepish smile, still kneeling there, looking up at you with so much love in his eyes that it almost made you dizzy. “I know it’s early, and maybe it’s crazy, but when you know, you know. That’s what my Grandma said. And I know. You’re it for me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, both at the absurdity of the situation and the pure, unfiltered sweetness of it. “Clayton,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky with emotion. “You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” he interrupted, crossing his heart again, this time more dramatically. “But I promise, I will marry you. I just wanted you to know that I am head over heels, absolutely, irrevocably, ridiculously in love with you. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving it to you. Even if I have to do it on both knees because I’m a disaster.”

By now, you were laughing and crying at the same time, the whirlwind of emotions overwhelming in the best possible way. You slid off the bed to join him on the floor, cupping his face in your hands as you pressed your forehead to his.

“I love you too,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell as Clayton leaned into your touch, his eyes soft and full of affection. “And you’re not a disaster. You’re perfect.”

He grinned, that familiar, crooked smile lighting up his face. “So... is that a yes?”

You kissed him, slow and sweet, and when you pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. “It’s definitely a yes. Just... maybe wait until you actually have the ring before you ask for real.”

Clayton chuckled, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you close. “Deal.”

And just like that, everything felt right again. You didn’t need the perfect proposal or a ring in hand—this moment, messy and full of laughter and love, was more than enough.

[stuffzwithazz]

little hu analysis time!

i love hu, she’s grown on me a lot since pt2 dropped ehehe heh i’d like to make a formal apology to her for thinking she was the culprit for a year

this is just an analysis about hu’s secret/secret quote because i’m a freshman sem 1 psychology major and i like this stuff ^^

spoilers for drdt obviously ^^

tw for suicide

as a quick recap: hu’s secret is “you were quite the hopeless child. dying once wasn’t enough, so you attempted suicide 3 times” and her secret quote is “i want to pay for what i did. but i still want to live” (something like that)

i’ll start w the secret quote bc it’s the simpler one^^

by “pay for what i did” i think she means laying up her life as comeuppance for her actions, whatever they might be. now im not sure if by attempted, it’s failed attempts or hu wanting to but chickening out at the last minute. either way my point stands

now onto the secret!! this is a bit of assumption and i could just be looking into it wayyy too much but ykw? its fun!

there’s one specific phrase i’d like to look at: “*dying once wasn’t enough*, so you attempted suicide 3 times”

if the wording is meant to be very specific, then this raises a question. those question being; what does she mean by “dying once”?

for this next part: spoilers for both corpse factory (the game) and the silent patient (a book by alex michaelides)

i’ll explain it in brief terms w/out any spoilers after those sections dw!! i just like using examples for things

CORPSE FACTORY SPOILERS:

near the end, noriko talks about aoi’s childhood and how aoi is under the impression that noriko’s childhood was better (it wasn’t but i digress) noriko mentions aoi said something like “my dad killed me, but i killed him, so it’s okay.” ignoring the last bit, what does aoi mean by “killed me?”

aoi’s dad was quite the violent and both verbally and physically abusive guy. there are things that people can say that are equivalent or even worse than being stabbed or shot upfront, like things such as

(tw for verbal abuse(?) i actually dk how to categorize these im sorry)

“i wish you were never born” or “i wish you died instead of ____!!”

these things hurt like hell, and in some cases you feel like it would have been better to literally be murdered

SILENT PATIENT SPOILERS

near the end of the book, alicia recounts the experience she had growing up with her dad and how one day, he killed her. sound familiar? it’s a similar story to what happened with aoi. then, when alicia writes in her diary about what theo did 5 years ago, she brings up this specific thing: theo had made gabriel choose between himself or alicia post finding out gabriel was having an affair w kathy. gabriel chose his own life over alicia’s, therefore proving he did cheat and shattering alicia’s hopes that gabriel really did love her. in her mind, it felt like being killed. again. in her words, “the dead doesn’t speak. gabriel has sentenced me to death.” hearing that the man who she loved for so long was going behind her back and would choose his life over her’s, when she knew she would value his is worse than being just brutally killed.

(SPOILERS OVER!!)

being said something so hurtful it feels like a stab in the stomach is a similar feeling that i think is the reasoning for the specific words of “dying once wasn’t enough”

im admittedly a bit sad that hu’s secret wasn’t talked about whatsoever during the trial, especially considering its subject matter, but it’s what she wanted so it’s okay

again, all of this is purely speculation on my part, and o could just be looking into the wording a bit too much…

ok analysis over!! lmk what you think ^^

[queserasora]

DOFLAMINGO X FEM READER, NSFW WORD COUNT: 6.2k CONTENT WARNING: Mean ass Doflamingo strikes again. He is so mean, we already know this but I have to say it because I don't need people crying about him being mean. THAT'S JUST HOW HE IS. Dom!Doffy, consider this a dark romance~~ if you may, it's a bit toxic guys so like I don't recommend but that's just how the cookie crumbles, actually it's pretty damn toxic, like maybe this is on the verge of yandere doffy, idk you tell me, unprotected sex (please wear ur party hats in rl), biting and lots of degradation because Doffy loves talking shit, like it's so much shit talking it's half the fic, biting a lot of it, like everywhere, anal play, so much teasing, pussy slapping, he likes to tie people up because he finds it hilarious so bondage lite, blindfold???, yeah that too, lots of cum, it's everywhere A SUMMARY: Y/N (aka Butterfly aka Six) knows she doesn't have many weapons to use against Doffy so she tries depriving him of her undivided attention. Doffy lasts two whole days before he snaps.

PART ONE | PART TWO

He thinks two hours of hanging from his canopy bed by the wrists should be sufficient. If you hadn’t learned something by then, Doflamingo simply could not help you. There was only so much he could do, in his unending benevolence, to assist you in learning the skills needed for survival. Had he not taught you enough throughout the years you had known each other? Had he not been an attentive, and detailed instructor?

Had you, really, learned nothing?

He wanted to blame himself for this. Perhaps you had inadvertently exploited a weakness, he himself didn’t know he had. Doffy thought, if he should find it, he would cut it out of his body with his own capable hands. Too irate to face you, he sends two officers to cut you down from his canopy bed.

Your arms had started to grow numb. The uncomfortable tingling soon becomes painful. You kept shifting your weight on the bench bed, as if that would help alleviate the ache in your arms, or the throbbing of the small nicks and cuts of your wrists. At the sound of the door creaking open, your heart jumps. You turn your head quickly, but it is not he who walks through the door but two officers you know well. 

Shame heats your body before it grows deathly cold. 

It is apparent they’re fighting off embarrassed smiles as their mouths twitch. Their fingers move about carefully, as if they feared the repercussions of touching your skin for too long. What belonged to Doflamingo, belonged to him for the extent of its life. Although your body collapses as soon as you're free, a weight coming from it you didn’t know you possessed–you’re not dead yet.

You hold onto this realization as strong arms help you down from the bed bench, and half carry you out of his bedroom. You grip it tightly, like the air between your hands, until your nails bite into your skin. If there was any pride left in your war torn body you’d use it, despite the possible repercussions.

Your acts of rebellion are limited in range, so you do the only thing you can do–you deny him of the tiny bits of intimacy he craves from you. When he peers over his shoulder at you, you do not make eye contact. You look past his broad shoulders and to the intricate paisley pattern of the wallpaper in front of him. When he tries to make small talk, something you know he detests, you keep your answers short, clipped, monosyllabic if possible.

It is childish, you know this, but it is all you have. A blunt weapon was still a weapon. With enough force behind it, sometimes it could kill.

Six was being childish. He had put up with it for two days. This was as far as his immeasurable patience went. Doffy had half the mind to grab her by the hair and make her submit, no matter how many men were currently present in his office. Her usual soft, and pliable mouth was spread thin into a harsh line that made him frown. Her shoulders pushed back stiffly, as if she was busily carrying the weight of something.

That something, whatever it was, he would smash it to pieces.

Baby 5 is talking, and Doflamingo brings a hand up in the air. He curls his fingers in a quick snap of his wrist, grabbing onto thin air. She silences immediately. Her gaze follows Doffy’s to find it behind him, on the girl he affectionately called Six. Baby 5 had asked him once, defying common sense, what he meant by that.

He had laughed, and laughed and laughed.

Six, for the amount of steps she was to stay within him. Six, because he sometimes forgot her name.

Whether that was a lie or not, Baby 5 had no intentions of finding out. Just like she had no intentions of staying behind to see whatever sick twisted games Doffy was about to begin. She knew that smile well enough to know her time was up. She begins to make her exit wordlessly as the rest of the men in the room are already departing from the room.

“Lock the door,” Doffy says as she reaches the threshold of it. Her hand hovers on the doorknob and she gives one last look over her  shoulder. You make eye contact with her, and she notices the tension in your jaw, the way you suddenly bore holes through her forehead. A sensation close to pity settles in her chest, so she leaves quickly and locks the door as she was commanded before a conscience can begin to grow where one had already died before.

You stand silently, hands clasped in front of your stomach. His presence growing closer to your body was almost enough to melt away all your resolve; brick by brick, you had laid them one after the other these past two days. It all threatens to come toppling down when his fingers graze your chin. He clasps it with a clammy hand.

“Don’t make that face,” he says calmly, tilting your chin upwards. You follow his hand’s command with a small frown. “You know how much I hate it. You have been ignoring me. I can’t forgive you for that.”

You say nothing. What was there to say? You had been ignoring him in hopes of hurting him on some kind of level. You turn your face away from him, freeing your chin from his grasp. Doffy tuts, and steps closer, breaching whatever miniscule space was left between your chests.

“I’ve been thinking about it all day,” he says calmly. Doffy’s hand reaches for your face again, and you turn to face the other way. His fingers tangle in your hair, a curling lip is the representative of the last vestiges of his patience. His free arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you towards him until you are flush against his hardened body. Your breathing quickens. You despise the way your body warms up against his. It was such an easy, predictable thing. A flimsy paper that couldn’t even hold the weight of your convictions. “Your punishment,” he concludes when you still give him no reply.

You can’t help the way your eyes narrow. It is foolish, you know, to feel anything akin to injustice. You think to blame it on your still fading bruises; the ones on your skin and on your ego. You continue to think this when you utter your next words: “Punishment for what?”

“Six,” he says, tone growing impatient. The tangled fingers in your hair give a tug–an unspoken reminder to keep your eyes on him. His voice is short. His fingers dig into the skin of the small of your back. “Do I need to spell everything out for you? You’ve committed a grave sin.” Doffy brings his face close to yours. He presses his nose against your cheek and inhales noisily. The heat of his breath on the apples of your cheek is enough to have shivers coursing through your spine. You grab onto his mostly open shirt, tug on it as if it would bring you to your senses. His tongue runs flat up against your cheek, leaving a trail of hot saliva in its wake. 

Six was a nickname he used when he felt particularly mean. You flinch when he licks your other cheek, expecting the worst. 

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says against your ear, fingers still knotted in your hair. The hand on the small of your back travels slowly over the curve of your ass. His fingers are devious, and unapologetic. They are used to always getting what they want, so they settle for digging into the supple muscle of your derriere. For their affront, they pull a small gasp from your lips. Doffy smiles besides himself. “You know I loathe being ignored, don’t you?” His teeth bite down on an earlobe. A whimper lays to rest in the back of your throat as you crush it down. “You of all people should know better.”

There’s a fluttering in your heart you want to squash. The pained sound in his voice, feigned or not, tugs at your heartstrings. You consider giving in, letting him have his way, and getting it over with. There was no use living at odds with Doflamingo. It wouldn’t benefit you in any way. 

“You’ve injured me,” his words are breathy, strained, as he brushes his lips against the line of your jaw. Your eyes close at the feel of his breathing scorching your skin. He kisses down the side of your neck. Kisses so wet and hot, it clouds your reason. There’s a slickness slowly seeping into your underwear. You become more acutely aware of this as the fingers on your ass move to slip between the waistband of your pants and your waist. “Now you have to pay the price.”

You nod, blindly agreeing to anything he could possibly propose. If it was your soul he wanted, he could have it. The method was up to his diabolical whims.

Doflamingo bites down on his lip. Not because the erection in his trousers is beginning to get uncomfortable–although it was. Not because when he sucks on the hollow space of your neck you moan so deliciously it makes him want to rip your clothes off—although he did want to do that. He bites down on his lip to keep the laughter at bay. You were so predictable, so pliable, so easily swayed. All he had to do was touch you, and you unraveled around his fingers, just like string. 

He releases you. You sway where you stand, suddenly breathless and dizzy. Doflamingo moves around the desk, and reaches for the inside of a small drawer. He pulls out two pieces of pearly white silk. It drags on the floor as he moves towards you.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Six,” he says, and gestures at your hands with one of his. “Now give me your wrists. I’m taking away some of your privileges.” You blink, unsure if you had any privileges to begin with but you concede, holding up your hands together, inside of wrists touching each other. He binds your wrists with one of the pieces of silk. “And because you dared to avoid my gaze,” he says, giving the knot on your wrists a good pull. You jolt towards him, and shout as he catches you by the forearms. Doflamingo leans forward, enough for his breath to tickle your nose when he speaks: “I’ll take yours away.” A sense of fear ices your veins. Your mouth moves, words refusing to form. You think to ask for him to reconsider but his hands are quicker than your mind. He is tying the silk over your eyes, like a blindfold.

The last thing you see is his grinning mouth, and a pair of shades reflecting your own face back at you.

Darkness consumes you. Your breathing sounds inexplicably loud to your ears. You focus on steadying your breaths, making them shallower and shallower. The sound of rustling startles you. You turn your head in the direction you think it’s coming from, but his hands are on your shoulders pushing you back. You stumble backwards until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the desk.

“Don’t,” he hisses against your ear. “Move.” You hold your breath before a shudder forces you to inhale loudly. He is tugging at your waistband. You feel thick fingers press against the skin of your hip as he grips the fabric. He had instructed you not to move but your body jerks as he pulls the fabric. The sound of cloth ripping, strings being torn and undone fill the still air of the office. A cool breeze touches your hip, your thigh, and even lower as he continues to tear the right pant leg all the way down.

Your breathing quickens. White teeth dig into your bottom lip as you struggle to keep quiet. He hadn’t asked you to not make a sound but you didn’t want to try his patience. Not when his fingers were on the other side of your waist, destroying whatever was left of the other pant leg. Another forceful tug, and you’re free of your pants. Cold air kisses the back of your knees.

“I hate these pants,” he complains, kicking the remains of the clothing item out of his way. He advances towards you, grasps your hips with heated hands and flips you around. You shout, as he bends you over the desk, ass up. “Why do you insist on this stupid suit? They are ugly. I thought I told you, I loathe ugly things. I’m throwing them all out,” he insists, his large palms running over the width of your ass cheeks. “Every single one, and I’m filling your closet with dresses. And skirts,” he pauses, hands still on your ass. Dresses and skirts so he wouldn’t have to tear into them with brute force. Doflamingo brings one hand up and slaps a cheek. You cry out as the sting blooms into a burning ache.

Doflamingo goes into his haunches. You feel him panting against the back of one thigh. You breath hitches. His mouth moves lower, to an ankle. He flicks his long tongue out, and grazes the inside of your ankle with the tip of his tongue. It’s hot, and wet, enough to make you twitch. You curl your fingers tightly, trying to fight the urge to rub your thighs together. It shouldn’t have aroused you so much, but you feel the growing wetness becoming worse in your underwear

The scratchy feel of your stockings over your skin is enticing. He hates it but he can’t stop. His tongue drags up from the back of one calf, all the way to the back of a knee. He stops there, contemplatively for one nanosecond, before he decidedly sucks on the sensitive area. You whimper, and he chuckles up against your thigh. His detailed attention is on the lovely crease of your ass cheek. Open mouthed kisses, and licks leave a slippery trail that mimics the dripping wetness from your pussy.

By the time he’s done with your other leg, you feel soaked. You rub your thighs together, the stockings scratching and creating a pleasant friction. You increase your pace. Doflamingo stands up in time to watch your salacious movements. He laughs before slipping a leg in between them to stop you.

“Enough,” he says, trying to hide his humor. “You’re always trying to do something like this. Can’t you stop being a slut long enough to quietly take your punishment for once? You’re always  making me work twice as hard. Be a damn good girl,” he finishes with a snarl. “And stay fucking still.” His thick fingers seize the stocking over your ass and he rips them open. You gasp and barely have time to process that when he is seizing the band of your panties. You know what he’s about to do but you cry out all the same when the fabric rips as well, leaving you completely exposed.

He would never admit it. Doflamingo would rather be strung up, beaten, burned and humiliated than to admit it. He’d choose imprisonment or death before he admits how the sight of you bent over his desk, pussy glistening already with your arousal, has him thinking stupid, feverish, foolish thoughts.

He should fuck them out of his mind while he still could.

His teeth find their mark on the swell of one ass cheek. You cry out when he digs in, leaving bruises that bloom into pink-purple flowers in the shape of teeth. He leaves mark, after mark, until he has counted eight total. His mouth presses at the top of your crack, a soft kiss that you know could only lead to debauchery. You wiggle your hips, trying to shake him off. Doffy tightens his hold on your hips, and slams you down on the desk. There will be more bruises on top of the old fading ones but you don’t care. The only thing you care about is the way his tongue is following the path of your crack.

“D-Doffy!” you stutter, slamming your tied hands down on the desk repeatedly to try to get his attention. His hold on your hips is unshakeable. You close your eyes tightly, when they move to your cheeks. “You don’t have to do this.”

He pulls your ass cheeks apart. “Don’t be stupid,” he tells you without looking away. He frowns down at your puckered hole, two shades darker than the rest of your skin. “I do as I please and you…” he pauses to tilt his head. He is aware you can’t see him but he shoots an incredulous look at the  back of your head. “Did you forget you are the one being punished? You have no right to say anything.”

With his case spoken for, he turns his attention to your hole once more. With your ass cheeks spread, he dives in, his tongue flush against your crack. His tongue circles your hole in a way that deeply shames you. The tickling pleasure makes your toes curl, and you try to keep quiet, try to still the small twitches of your belly as pleasure builds inside you. His circles become tighter and tighter, faster. Your neck pulls your head back. You cry out, a long soft moan hanging in the air.

Doflamingo pulls away to look at your sweating forehead. He grins. “Heh,” he chuckles, pulling your ass cheeks apart once more. “Look at you. You keep forgetting your place.”

He takes a rattling breath, nose wrinkled. Doflamingo hacks and spits into your hole. A glob of foamy white saliva hangs on your hole before it slowly drips down to your bright and puffy pussy. He leans back, fingers still digging into the supple flesh of your ass. You feel him let go of one cheek, and his thumb moves towards the middle. There's a protest forming in your mouth. It tumbles clumsily out of your lips, but he’s pressing his thumb against your hole regardless. He presses it further in, tip sliding in even when you try to speak again.

You cry out as he makes it past the first knuckle. He moves it inside you, soft wide circles. Your hips buck as you try to get away from him, a building pressure around your asshole. You whimper, and moan, the sensation so intense and so strange it scares you. He laughs when you ask him to wait. He laughs again when you sigh in relief when he pulls out his thumb. He laughs, lastly, when he inserts index and middle finger instead and you cry out. You’re banging your hands on the desk again, words almost unintelligible flying out of your mouth. You hate the way your folds are slick with your arousal, how your moans don’t stop no matter how many times you command them to go away in your mind.

“Oh?” you hear Doffy say, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he thrusts his fingers into your hole, time and time again. He is rough enough to shake you, to keep your hips pushing and bruising against the hardwood of the desk. “All of a sudden you can speak? How interesting. Should have done that two days ago.”

He reminds himself he is merciful, sometimes, and pulls his fingers away when you give a painful cry. Doflamingo looks down at his fingers, a frown heavy on his brows. He reaches for the back of you, and wipes them clean on your crisp white shirt, careful to go under the fingernails.  “You know,” he says, looking down at your dripping pussy. You’re so wet you’re soaking down the inside of your thighs. Shiny folds greet him, beckoning him for a lick or two, a good suck, a good fuck.  “You kept saying it was dirty while I was fingering you but you’re the dirty one. You’re fucking soaked.”

Doflamingo isn’t a man who kneels. He grabs your hips and pulls you up, helps you fold your legs so that your knees are on the desk. You lean forward on your elbows. Your breathing is loud, and erratic. The heat circling around you feels suffocating. Sweat covers your neck, and you feel it slipping down between your breasts. You can’t see him, but you feel him moving behind you again. His mouth hovering over your pussy. You take a deep breath, as the high of expectation seizes you. You’re desperate. You want to feel his mouth on your pussy. You want him to lick you and suck on you until you cum but Doflamingo has other plans.

He touches your entrance lightly with the tip of his tongue. Just as lightly, he traces your entrance. You flinch, and whimper. You move your hips, trying to follow his mouth. Doflamingo tuts and grabs your hips. “Six,” he says testily. “If you don’t stay still I will stop being so kind.”

He licks lightly over each lip. “You need to come to terms with this already,” he says breathing against your clit. He puffs hot air against your sensitive nub. Your toes curl in pleasure. Doflamingo brushes his closed mouth against your swollen clit. “I know what you want, and you’re not getting it. That’s my justice.” He kisses the opening of your pussy before kissing your clit. “Now just take it.” He parts his lips and bites down on your clit.

The heat of his mouth disappears. You whine, feeling cheated and petulant. Doflamingo slaps your pussy for your brattiness. “Apologize,” he says sharply. “You haven’t uttered a single apology. Did I not say you’ve injured me?” He slaps your pussy again. The sting is shocking, humiliating. You grip the edge of the desk so hard you fear your fingernails will split. “Apologize, Six,” he growls and slaps you one more time. You cry out, feeling pleasure jolt down the inside of your thighs. You’re dripping wetter and wetter. Your body is trembling as you struggle to keep yourself up in this position. Your biceps are burning, your thighs quivering. 

“I’m sorry!” you mutter quickly. It is the best you can manage at the moment but it appears dissatisfactory. Doflamingo slaps your aching cunt again. “I said I’m sorry! I'm so sorry!”

“Good,” he says, rubbing his hand roughly over your pussy. You moan, almost purr, as he slathers your slick all over. “Now thank me.”

You gasp, and turn your face around. You don’t understand what he says at first, so he repeats himself. Still you splutter: “What?”

Another slap to your sensitive puffy pussy has you arching your back with a cry.

“I said, say thank you,” Doflamingo mutters over your ear. You feel his body leaning over your back. “Don’t forget your manners. It should be considered a blessing that I'm even touching you.” He slaps your pussy one last time. “And you say?”

You mumble it at first. He can’t hear you so he grabs your cunt tightly. “What did you say? Enunciate, Six. Do you know how to speak?”

“Y-yes, sir. I said thank you. Thank you so much,” you breathed out, lungs burning from the effort. He chuckles lightly against your ear.

“Better. Much better,” he says before kissing your ear and pulling away. 

Doflamingo seizes your hips, and swiftly flips you around. The sudden movement causes your stomach to dip, and you cry out, arms flying out to grasp anything. You feel his shoulders, and grip tightly. Doflamingo shakes you off without finesse. He pushes your back on the desk, and pulls you towards the edge of the desk by the hips. He pulls your legs up, until your thighs are flushed against his front. Your knees bend, and your lower legs drape over his shoulders.

“These,” you hear him hiss around your ankles. Doflamingo’s nose brushes against the top of one foot–exposed by a kitten heel. “Are also atrocious. We’re throwing these out too. Every single one.”

He takes them off your feet quickly. You wiggle your toes, taking advantage of the only freedom you have currently. Your silent moment of victory is short lived. Doflamingo is tearing at your stockings against, revealing your feet. Your breath catches in your chest as you feel a hot wetness on the inside of one foot. It tickles pleasantly. Still, you wiggle your toes.

“Stop,” he growls against your foot, moving his mouth to your toes. He sucks on them noisily, one at a time. Drool slides down in between your toes, and you crinkle your nose. It is an odd sensation, but you refuse to pull your feet away. This temporary moment of discomfort was not enough to make you risk his wrath. 

He tires of your feet and at your lack of reaction. He tires of the way his breathing is ragged, how heat has forced him to sweat right through his shirt. He tires of the way his erection is throbbing in his pants. 

Doflamingo fights against it by seizing the front of your shirt. He pulls in one go, buttons ripping from their seams. They fly out in different directions, zooming past your face and his. You feel one hit your forehead. Another bounces off one of the lenses of Doflamingo’s shades. He cackles, amused by his own little stunt. He is laughing still as he leans forward, your legs bending with his actions. You feel his hardened cock press against your heated pussy. You’re maddened at the thought. You want the fabric separating you to disappear and curse your lack of strength. You are so consumed with your desire to have him inside you, deep and hard, that his bites barely register. He is nipping over the swell of your breasts.

There is no delicacy or tenderness to his actions. He has pointedly reminded you, time and time again, that this was not done in pleasure. This was your punishment. So he clamps down hard on your tender flesh, and covers your tits in dark pink bruises. You cry out each time, body trembling from a mixture of pain and ecstasy. Doflamingo loses interest when there’s no more room to mark so he shifts to your belly. He bites and sucks where he can. He leaves his imprint on your skin, for you to see later in solitude and think of him; only of him.

Your ribcage calls his name and he drags his tongue up and over it. He counts each ribcage in his mind, and leaves a bite for each one.

The assault is endless. The desk becomes an altar with you as a sacrifice. Doflamingo lights a fire, tall and full of rage, with every drag of his sharp teeth, with every desperate suck against your skin.

His mind is a mess. He can only think of tearing you open. He can only think of digging inside you, to rifle through your insides to see what was crawling in there that did not belong. He wanted to see himself in every part of you, slowly consuming you until there was nothing left but the spirit of him.

You; his carnal legacy. 

His tongue drags at a painfully slow pace over your nipples when he pulls your bra down with a wild tug. Doflamingo draws shapes that he has no names for over the swell of your breasts. His fingers pinch your erect nipples, and he lets your cries guide him. You moan when he flicks them with his thumbs, and he knows this is punishment. But what good was a punishment that punished him? He couldn’t hold out any longer.

He dives against your breasts, his mouth sucking in a nipple with viciousness. Your back arches as he bites town and tugs. Pain makes your nipple throb, and you aim at his shoulder with your tied hands. He deflects you and pushes you back down on the desk.

There is no apology, no words to soothe you or pacify you. You didn’t expect any anyway. Instead, he lifts your breasts to lick the underside of them. His hands knead your breasts as he pushes against your heated core. His erection is enticing, and you move your hips against him. You hear his breathing against your ear picking up speed before it disappears.

You breathe through your mouth, quick little pants that make your chest burn. You hear a buckle, and a zipper coming undone. You swallow thickly, fingers twitching where you’re holding them against your chest.

Doflamingo looks down at you as he pulls his cock out of his underwear. It bounces against the flat of his belly. A hand moves to  grasp it, and it pumps it lazily. His eyes are too busy devouring your body instead. You are a mess on his desk. There is your arousal leaking out of you, pooling under your ass. Your skin is bruised and battered. Your chest rises and falls in rapid succession. He smiles.

You are pathetic. You are a mess, and you are all his.

He presses the angry tip of his cock against your entrance. You clamp down on your lip, and before you can fully ready yourself, he snaps his hips and bottoms out inside you in one move.

A cry gets stuck in your throat, and your mouth is open but no sound comes out. Your back is arched, even as he pummels into you relentlessly. His cock feels divine. It is thick, pushing against your walls, a stretch so satisfying you wish you could feel it time and time again. Everytime he snaps his hips you can hear the loud slapping of his balls against your pussy.

You’re whining, and moaning, thrashing in place. The sounds almost overpower the sound of wetness. The squelching sound of your pussy makes him smile. He holds on tightly to your knees as they’re folded over his shoulders, busily watching his glistening cock slide in and out of you. 

“Oh, now you really have a lot to say, huh?” he grunts as he increases his pace, his hips slamming against your ass time and time again. You whimper, feeling your pussy starting to get sore but the fire inside you continues to build. The pain is not enough to make you want to stop. “Now you want to give me your goddamn attention.”

Not that he’d stop for you. Not when he’s like this.

You’re being far too loud for his liking. It is driving him mad with lust. He reaches out to the desk, his hand pawing blindly as he continues to snap his hips. You’re so tight around him it makes him clench his teeth. His fingers touch moist fabric, and he grabs the sad remains of your panties. 

“Be quiet for a second,” he tells you and shoves the panties in your mouth. You gag, and cough. He hears your mumbling against the fabric, but it is muffled. He chuckles in delight. “Better. Much better.”

Now that your moaning is not ringing in his ears, leading him away from reason, he can focus on his work. He watches your tits bounce on your chest. They jerk every time he slams against you so he goes even harder, delighted at the sight of them. He closes his eyes, focuses on the lewd sounds of your wet pussy, the way air slips in and makes inappropriate sounds. He chuckles, admiring the way your walls start clamping around him.

“You’re gonna cum already?” he asks you. “Oh. That’s right. You can’t talk right now.” He laughs at your muffled cries. Sweat is coating his chest. He feels his shirt sticking to his lower back. The heat is all consuming, and so is the heat of your pussy. It is greedily sucking him back in every time he pulls out.

He groans loudly, when he feels you cumming. Your toes curl, and spit soaks your panties. You taste the saltiness of your arousal on the fabric and breathe out through your nose, trying your best to catch your breath. Your orgasm is violent. Your body jerks as it continues to course through you. Doflamingo doesn’t let up, and he edges you closer and closer to an ecstasy that is almost unbearable. You scream against your panties, legs shaking. You’re so overstimulated you feel tears wetting the silk of your blindfold.

Your drool is slipping down your chin, and down your neck. It collects on the hollow of your neck. You catch a ragged breath, and pray–pray for release. At this rate Doflamingo will  be the end of you–or at the very least, the end of your pussy.

Doflamingo chases your high down. Demands it comes back. He isn’t done yet, despite the bruises already starting on the bones of his hips. He feels that cushiony spot inside you and he rams his tip into it, time and time again. Your legs twitch and you give another shrill cry.

Just when you think you could die, heat forms once more. A coil so tight, binds itself at the pit of your belly. You feel a strange urge, as if you desperately need to go. You try to warn Doflamingo but he’s not listening and you are too weak to fight anymore. Your back snaps, and your vision goes from black to white. You feel liquid gush out of you.

Doflamingo gives a startled gasp, he watches you soak his pants with mild irritation.

“Goddammit,” he mutters, still thrusting inside you. “There’s just no end to your nastiness. You just had to ruin my pants? I am almost done dealing with your punishment and now I have to think of another one. You are nothing but trouble, my Butterfly.”

You mumble something he can’t interpret and doesn’t care to do so. His laughter rumbles in his chest as he continues to snap his hips, on and on and on. 

“You’re mine, you know that?” he tells you and turns his face to kiss one knee. “You’re my slut.” His voice is a hoarse growl. Teeth flashing white. “You are my butterfly. My captive poor pathetic little thing. You’ll never leave me, do you hear me? I’ll never let you go. You’ll always be tangled up with me.” You whimper, and thrash in place. “You’ll never be able to leave. Not that you want to. You like this too much. The way I fuck you.”

He is right, of course. The thoughts of leaving his side were fleeting. You couldn’t picture a life without him. If it meant living in his shadow until he turned to look at you then so be it. You didn’t care about the pitiful glances people gave you or the thinly veiled words of advice. You had decided a long time ago that this is where you would be happy to die, underneath his forceful hand.

“You belong to me. You have no right to deny me anything,” he reminds you, as he leans forward to nip at your bottom lip. He kisses you, and you think you might die. It had been so long, you thought the day would never come. You moan when he presses his mouth against yours. You dare to part your lips, to seek out his tongue but he is gone as quickly as he came. “You can only adore me. You can only look at me and think of me.”

He rips the panties out of your mouth and you gasp for air, gulping and gulping. Doflamingo wraps his fingers around your throat as he continues to fuck you.

“Say it,” he hisses, his voice breaking. “Say it’s only me you want.”

You swallow and nod slightly. “It’s you. I only want you.” You say his name, over and over. Doflamingo smiles widely, feeling at the moment, victorious. 

And with this sense of euphoria, he feels himself close. He pulls out quickly, leaving you aching and pulsing around nothing. Doflamingo pumps his cock desperately, roughly, a few times before he spills all over your battered pussy. His cum is hot and you flinch as it touches your sensitive skin. There’s drops on your belly, and on each side of your inner thighs. The cum on your pussy drips slowly and eases towards your ass.

Your mind is fuzzy. Your body is still hot, and everything is aching and throbbing. He’s moving again, you feel him ahead of you grabbing things from the ground. Doflamingo wipes his hands on the ripped clothing before he drops them on your belly.

“Clean up,” he commands in a congenial tone, shoving his half hardened cock into his soiled pants. He adjusts as best as he can and zips up. “I got you a new dress for tonight. It is imperative that you wear it for dinner. Are you listening, Butterfly?

You don’t have the strength to speak. Your throat feels raw from all the crying and moaning. So you nod, once, twice.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he says. His voice sounds distant. You hear his footsteps, farther away. There’s a click at the door, before it closes. Then silence.

He leaves you on the desk, blindfolded, naked and worn out to the sound of your heart beating in your ears.