#Reblogging my own art because fuck it /holds it up for the world to see

[thegreatsharkleve]

Daytime reblog of my own art

(also I fixed his leg which oop, hadn't adjusted when I snatched his waist further dlkfjlasdj)

Spent too much time reading danmei manhua while hungover so!!

Wuxia styled Y'hika, who somehow looks entirely like himself despite the au of it all. Probably because I went for a 'main villain's left hand man' vibe

(WIP)

[myceliacrochet]

I feel so overwhelmed. I have no income, no stable place to live, and hundreds of people coming to me who need thousands of dollars each to avoid getting incinerated, starved, tortured. I make crochet -- when I can get supplies -- and I'm trying to make stickers, when I can get supplies... I'm not very employable and everything is so expensive and it's all falling on my roommate.

I need to hold a fundraising event

Everyone is either stretched to their limits helping or can't be bothered

I'm doing my best to reblog, follow, and react every single campaign I can that is either vetted or has a clean RIS. I'm telling myself that I'm doing enough by contributing art and promoting these campaigns, but the reality is people need money and I'm giving them condolences and things that may not help much.

I had a bit of success promoting Omar's campaign and foolishly believed I could get those kinds of results again. Tumblr staff is being beyond ruthless, attacking even the critical and dangerous vetting work people are risking their lives for on the ground.

I don't know what to tell people who are coming to me for help in what may be their last moments and I'm like "hey here have a shitty art I made that might make a miniscule difference but probably won't. All the best!" I try to respond through my actions instead of words because like Kurt Vonnegut said there's fucking nothing to say about genocide because no one's meant to say anything they're just meant to get blown up. So then I'm ignoring the people who most need help in the world, coldly turning away. So I say sorry and offer these small useless things as if it means anything and every day I lose more sanity and meaning in my life because doing less than what I can to help people not get genocided takes all the color out of my world. I can't imagine truly relaxing or enjoying anything until there's no genocide happening anymore, and I don't see that happening. I feel hopeless like I did in 2016 but this time there's no back door out.

Every time I start to work on something I feel hopeless like it won't work

I have to get my ass into gear, which means I need to:

- pick up my prescription for strattera, I guess I have that now. That will help me focus

- get back on my antidepressants as soon as Fatima's campaign hits $10,000. That will help me keep moving

- talk to other organizers so we can work together.

I am drowning, I am burning in this hxll created by my own culture. Every day they torture the children and the adults come into my DMs and scream help us please please someone help us.

All I can do is do my best every day. I'll keep moving forward

Doing something is better than doing nothing, gxddammit, which means I'm doing a good job I guess, it's just little comfort as I watch the children get engulfed in flames.

Like, I know I can't end all genocide on my own but there's got to be more effective things that I personally can do.

I guess I'll check out one of those lists of things you can do other than donating money

If anyone has yarn to donate and/or could cover shipping or help me find free yarn in my area, that would be so helpful. Because there's nothing I'd rather do than tune out and crochet most of the time and sell it for myself and others.

Please talk to me about how we can work together to help these precious people!!! I need to do more

@monstermashpotato @sylvianritual @gazavetters @determinate-negation @dlxxv-vetted-donations

@gaza-evacuation-funds @gazagfmboost @fly-sky-high-09 @90-ghost @nabulsi @halalchampagnesocialist @huzni @hussyknee @notallmensheviks @neechees @fuckyeahmarxismleninism @fayruz0-blog @gothhabiba @radicalgraff @marxism-transgenderism @marxist-lesbianism @voyagerprobe @workersolidarity @cheezbot @gayspacemonk @bogleech @slitherbop @butchniqabi

I guess I just need to work on my small business... Idek if I'm even helping by reblogging all this stuff, I'm just spending hours a day spreading stuff around to other people who can't really donate. I just seem to be wasting people's time who are going through genocide, I might even be only adding to their suffering. I don't know if I have the moral fibre to do this work, idk I just seem to cause bad things to happen to myself and everyone around me by dedicating so much time to reblogs instead of just securing an income, paying my bills, and being content to give a "reasonable" portion to genocide relief. I can't do that, I have to give all or most of myself but then I'm just a burden to my roommate and others. Or going all out and doing something really big that could really bring in the money they need

I'm sick but people need me

I guess what I'm seeing here is that I need to switch gears to working on crochet more and that will help me be able to help people and it will also be better for my mental health. I'll work on getting the supplies I need to continue. But idk I'll come back to this later and figure it out.

Thank you for listening I wish I could just let my brain scream to death but like people need me to keep it together so I can actually help but I'm at a loss as to how to help

I'll do it gxddammit I'll fucking get it done I'll crochet for this and it will make a difference and I don't have to suspend happiness until this is over I have to maintain some of that light of happiness within. It's not all on me we are working together

Hey 🩷 So I wanted to let people know that I am safe now. I'm back on my most necessary meds, I've applied for SNAP and general assistance, and I'm feeling stronger after having some more success promoting campaigns.

We are living during multiple holocausts. I take comfort in doing the work. We're making a difference in people's lives.

Thank you for helping me keep my head up. Let's keep going.

[elsa-fogen]

At first i was going to reblog this from @justashadowlooker

but then it got too long and off-topic, i started retelling and quoting my own 10 years old fanfic, so i'm making it it's own post jjdsfjkdfgh

Too long don't read, was a Bloom fan, killed her hundreds of times, than became Icy fan, killed her few times as well, still a huge fan, wanna revive some of my old ideas

When i had just started watching winx, Bloom was my fav AAHAHHAH (it was 2008-2009 year i think). Buuut... being my fav means that you gonna SUFFER. It was always the case, even when i was little. But young me didn't know better than to just kill of a character. And Bloom died SO many times in my early fanfics and arts. I still remember one fic, it was also the first ever fic i posted on the internet, and it was horrible. I typed really slow at that time and i was looking at like 10 A4 pages of handwritten fanfic and was like... weeeell i don't need this part with description of the boat... i don't need this part about wind flowing in her hair or smth... i don't need spaces after dots and commas either. These were real thoughts of 9 year old me lmao.

the fic was about Bloom and Sky going for a boat trip date, but there was also some bitch that fell for Sky and her best decision was to throw Bloom away from the boat. As a result she was sucked into the screw of the motor or whatever this thing called. Sky dived after her and brought her back on the boat, but she died due to the blood loss.

In my handwritten version it was really long and tears queezing scene, but i was too lazy to type it all, so it basically was shortened to 1 (one) sentence: Bloom didn't make it to the port.

i also had a picture attached, it was i think a cover of some of the comics where Sky holds Bloom on his arms and they're stepping out of the water, but i photishoped it and added many wounds and BLOOD BLOOD EVERYWHERE!!!

I also remember photoshopping screenshots from the first winx movie, adding bloody wounds on Bloom and tears and trying to make her face sad lol. And also i remember, i didn't have access to the computer all the time in my childhood, and there was a weird time... when i'd got a chance to be on the computer, i would made a specific search in google, to find that one art with Bloom, being fucking stabbed, lying on the ground and crying, and touching the golden heart-shaped locket with the name Sky on it, and you could see that it was Sky's sword that stabbed her, and he was walking away in the distance. I could stare at that art for hours, imagining how it happened. I also remeber how the art suddenly stopped showing up at the search and i had only tiny squeezed jpg version of it, and i thought that google banned this art for being so violent lmao

Btw i found that art, it's by Chibiusa-Moon, here it is, and i remember it diffferently, i thought Bloom had enchantix on her lmao

BUT THEN SOMETHING CHANGED. I DON'T KNOW WHEN. I DON'T KNOW WHY. BUT ICY CAME AND DESTROYED MY LOVE FOR BLOOM, AND TOOK HER PLACE.

I suspect that it happened after i saw ep1 of season 3, because HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN IN THAT EPISODE?! SHE WAS ✨✨S L A Y I G✨✨ DAMN!!! She freed herself looking fab as fuck (i've only seen her battle uniform at that point, and her casual outfit shocked me, i was like HOLY SHIT?? DIFFERENT COLTHES?) (and it's if you forgen the HOLY SHIT, TRIX IN THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE SEASON?!!!), sayed the edgiest thing in the world, then freed her sisters, skated away from the giant snake ON HER DAMN HEELS AS A QUEEN!!!!! I think this was the moment when i fell for her. Maybe i'm wrong and it happened earlier, but this is all i can remeber.

Well, i also remember when my mom got me my first winx magazine and i was really disappointed that there were no Trix in the comic AHHASJGDAJS it was comic about bloom and diaspro going to the land of the dragons.

And, funny enough, i think i didn't kill Icy in my fics (mostly)

wait fuck. i remembered one (that was actually properly published and finished), let me just refresh my memory real quick- (gonna cringe soo hard ahaha)

oh shit i also remembered some stuff. In my later fanfics i was tending to make Bloom real psychopath, who decided to straight up destroy all the witches and all the dark magic. Hey. Hey. I bet 13 year old me wouldn't mind if i borrowed this idea fom her...

EHM ANYWAY, BACK TO THAT ONE FINISHED FIC!

It's so cringy written, but it's got the spirit HASHDHA. The trix summon some another army of darkness that was created to destroy fairies (hey), but at some point they lose control of it and the army turns against them. They have no ther choice but to seek help from the winx. winx of course don't want to help since their army attacked alfea... but the trix didn't give this order.

by the way tehre's one dialogue that i think is actually good and i think is in character

"But how do we know that it isn't one of your tricks?" - asked Tecna. - "Probability of this equals 85,9%!" Everyone froze. Nobody had this idea before. Then Icy shook her head. "No, it's not." "How do we know?" Stella said suspiciously. "If we wanted to trick you, we'd choose less humiliating way" Icy replied coldly.

in the end witches and fairies teeaming up, and going on an adventure to stop this army with some artifacts. Significant part of the way they had to make on their own without magic, and during that winx and trix are actualy growing to like each other. OH THERES ALSO A FUNNY THING LOL

But as a night roommate she [Icy] turned out to be very restless. She was moving all the time and mumbling something. And then at some point she screamed: "Damn fairies, i wish you all dead!" Bloom jumped on her place and still half sleeping replied: "Shut up, witch, or you're done for!" and fell back asleep. All in all, it was hell of a night.

i still think this is funny af-- damn these dialogues are only getting better. Next day they getting closer to their destination.

Suddenly they heard Stormy's voice: "Wait! there's some sign! Icy, can you read this?" "Why her?" Stella asked offended. "We all here can read!" "Except for you," Darcy noted gloomily and everyone laughed. "Ha, well, if you're so smart, come here and read!" Icy said with the sweetest voice. "And next time we'll ask you." Stella understood that she was cornered. To save the rest of her dignity, she came closer and started staring at the sign. "I-I cant for some reason, this handwriting is awful!" with dispair sloar fairy realised that she doesn't understand these letters. "And this cold is driving me nuts! Give me cup of hot coffee and warm blanket!"

then Icy teaches Bloom how to skate. And then Aisha (Leyla) dies by falling into some bottomless pit- After that they make it to their destination, but the army was waiting for them there

another dialogue

"Let's go!" Icy said decisively. "No, wait! I'll go alone. If they catch me, you all get out of here as fast as you can" [...] "No!" Bloom said. "I'll go with you!" "Fine. But they'll kill you immediately" "And you?" "And I will be tortured" Icy smiled.

I can't with this lol, Icy smiling at the thought of torture as a true psycho she is.

Icy touched the wall, making sure it's quite hard. "Well? What's next?" "You're the brain of the operation, you tell me!" redhead replied, crushing piece of the rock in her hand

i just like this interaction here.

"Winx Believix!" Winx screamed. And Trix didn't scream anything, Icy just snapped her fingers and all three were already in their witch uniforms.

yeah classic.

the fight begins, Icy is trying to understand what to do with the artifacts, Musa dies, then they teleport to some other planet where they can perform the ritual to destroy the whole army at once. They're reading the spell, but something is missing, and the army attacks them here too. This time Bloom is left to figure out what were they missing, and some drops of her blood fell on the artifact and that was the last piece of the spell. The army is destroyed, but Icy was seriously injuried when covering Bloom from attack from behind. Now they're flying back to Magix

FUCK-- guys i'm sorry. More dialogues on the way.

"Why are you here?" she [Icy] asked, opening her eyes. "Doesn't want to miss your death!" Stella screamed, she overheard the talk. "Shut up!" I [Darcy] replied. "Or I'll hit you!" "Oh-oh, I'm so scared!" "Discussed my funeral already?" Icy asked, surprisingly, without sarcasm. "Come on, don't listen to that fairy! She has only fashion and straw in her head." Icy smiled weakly. "Magix!" Bloom screamed looking out the window. Fairies came closer to the glass. "Where?!" Icy got worried. Golden-green disc of the planet surrounded by thick ring of asteroids was hanging in the center of the window. Icy could see it without moving. "And here my dream came true. I got Magix!" she lifted her arm and closed her fingers around the planet. "Didn't think that the view from the space is so beautiful..."

DSHGJADFKAJHSFDJG what have i done. This line about her dream coming true HITS HARD. Fuck, 13 y.o. me knew which buttons she should push.

Icy dies. Darcy and Stormy were forgiven because they helped to stop the army and for Icy's "sacrifice" and everyone very conveniently forget that they started the recent war. The end.

Damn that was a ride.

um, so where were we?... right i was saying that Icy became my new hyperfixation instead of Bloom...

And i had the whole trilogy planned, in the first one she'd escape from some prison and attempt another plan to counquer Magix, but fail, in the next book she'd be KILLED by Bloom but came back to life by making a deal with someafterlife owner (HA) and the last one where she actually succeeds... this one i din't think through at ALL.

I kinda wanna revive that plot fron the second "book" tbh, i still remeber it really well.

In a comic.

(i'd make it a crossover with Hazbin but it won't work unfortunately)

okay i don't know where and how to end this post so i'm ending it here, have a nice day thanks for reading i hope that at least someone made it to the end.

[messrmoonyy]

I just read your nsfw Headcannons for Tess and all I have to say is. Give. Me. The. Alley. Thing. Now. And no one gets hurt

The art of jealousy

Tess Servopoulos x Fem!reader

A/N- this request has been sat in my inbox since I first posted those Headcannons. Which was. A long time ago. I’m sorry. So here it is finally. Also the Headcannons being referred too are right here for anyone that wants to read them. Tess POV cause I really am loving giving a look into her head. I only proofread this once cause Tuesdays are becoming ever so slightly stressful for me so I just wasn’t vibing. So. Anyways. Enjoy.

Warnings- Tess lmao. Possessiveness, jealousy, she’s a lil rough at times but reader likes that, smut: fingering ( reader receiving), sex in a public place, choking, degradation

Word count- 3.8K

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

If Tess was one thing, it was being possessive of shit that was hers. Maybe that was just a side affect- as it were- of the post outbreak world. No one had much that they could truly call theirs anymore. Tess had actually always found it quite interesting how attached people could be to their things. She’d never been the material type. Even pre outbreak she’d never been one for expensive jewellery, flashy cars or designer clothes. And she’d never really understood people’s obsession with it.

Material items took on new forms now. People these days valued things like boots. Or ration cards. Family photos they’d managed to hold onto for all this time. At least they were more practical now she guessed. But still, she wasn’t really one to be overly attached to things.

People too fell under that bracket. She straight up refused to let herself get attached to anyone once the outbreak hit. After losing her entire family within the first week of the outbreak she’d vowed to never let herself get close to anyone again.

And then you’d come along.

She hadn’t meant to fall in love with you. Fuck she’d actually ignored you for several months when she realised she might actually be feeling something for you. But you were persistent. And beautiful. And it was unbelievably irritating but you had a knack at kicking down the walls she’d built up over the years. Brick. By brick. And she had learnt that maybe she did have a possessive streak in her after all.

Because there was truly nothing she despised more than watching someone else flirting with you. And it happened a lot which wasn’t at all surprising. The majority of people she surrounded herself with knew not to mess around when it came to you. They knew that you were off limits. But occasionally someone new would poll their way into the underground scene of Boston, some attempt to establish themselves on the black market, and thoroughly piss her off.

Jealousy crept up on her more frequently than not, she couldn’t help it. She just didn’t like it. Seeing you around someone else.

She knew you weren’t about to run off with some random fuck who thought he could win you round with some ration cards. She had you wrapped tightly around her little finger, just as you had her. But still. It pissed her off.

“ are you hoping if you stare at the back of his head long enough he’ll just drop down dead? “ Joel’s southern drawl hit her ears and she flashed him an irritated look, before looking back over at you. You’d been striking up a deal with someone for over 10 minutes, some new fucker clearly bartering you down for the cost of some pills. But he was being too… touchy.

You were no stranger to flirting your way through deals and Tess had always been surprised at just how much you could raise the prices in trades just by simply… existing. Being a woman in the current climate had never been particularly great. And learning to use what you had to for your own advantages was vital.

‘ men think they’re getting something and they’ll be putty in your hands ‘ that’s what you had said once. And she wasn’t exactly against it, hell she was guilty of doing it herself. But it didn’t change how infuriating it was.

“ you know she won’t do shit. You got that girl eating out of the god damn palm of your hand “ Joel said with a laugh, chewing at a chunk of his rationed beef jerky and eyeing the hand of cards he was holding. Though Tess had long since lost interest in the game they were playing “ ask her to beg at your fuckin feet and she’d do it. Then again, you’d probably do it for her too “ A small smirk pulled at her lips with that. She knew it was true, of course. She trusted you whole heartedly, knowing you had zero interest in anyone else. Especially men. And no one on the entire planet could turn her head.

You were just as infatuated with her as she was with you. It was a mutual obsession that was no where close to burning out.

“ I know “

“ then drop the miserable look on your damn face and play your turn “ she rolled her eyes and took her eyes off of you for a few moments, looking back down at the cards in front of her. She played a card without even really looking at it, her eyes soon trailing back over to you again “ you are making this too damn easy for me “

She didn’t grant him with a response, eyes narrowing as she watched you exchange a half bag of pills for a wad of cards. Clearly more than you’d usually have sold them for, but her small proud smile didn’t last long.

The man stepped closer to you, head bowed as he said something in your ear. You gave a clearly over exaggerated laugh, arm on his shoulder. And she was certain she saw your eyes flick in her direction.

She huffed a laugh, sitting back in her chair and shaking her head in mild disbelief

“ the little shit “ Joel’s eyes drifted over to you too, his brow furrowed as they both watched you flirt with the man.

“ Jesus Christ “ Joel muttered, clearly thinking the same thing Tess was. You were doing it on purpose. Pushing her buttons “ don’t rise to it. It’s what she wants “

“ I know what she fuckin wants “ she narrowed her eyes, watching you across the courtyard as she attempted to continue the game with Joel.

“ hey Tess. How you doin? I was wondering if you had an- “ the sound of one of her customers filled her ears as she kept her eyes trained on you.

“ not now “ she said with a wave of her hand, not even looking up to see who was stood there

“ but- “

“ not. Now “

“ okay okay. That’s cool. Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow? Cool cool “ Joel sighed as the man shuffled off sheepishly

“ you’re forfeiting sales now? Will you just go talk to her “ she was tapping her fingers against the table impatiently now. Jealousy and anger swimming in her veins in a dangerous cocktail.

You were always the same. A fucking brat. Pissing her off to get your own way. And she knew exactly what you were trying to get out of her. Piss her off, wind her up, drive her insane so that the second you both got home she’d pin you down against the closest surface and remind you exactly who was in charge for as long as it took for the message to sink in.

But she was in no mood to wait until you got home. If you needed a little reminder of just who wore the trousers in your relationship, she’d remind you. And she’d remind you sooner rather than later.

One more gentle touch of your hand to the man’s chest followed by a glance in her direction was the last nail in the coffin. And she was tossing her cards down on the table.

“ Tess- “ she was up and out of her metal chair before he could finish his sentence, crossing the courtyard in purposeful strides, someone hopping out of her path as she went.

“ are you fuckin done? “ she asked in a low voice as she reached you, throwing a glare towards the man seemed confused at her sudden appearance

“ oh hi Tess “ you said innocently “ everything okay? “ the man took a step back, eyes widening as he looked between the two of you

“ you’re?- I didn’t know- “ she quite enjoyed watching people crumble under the weight of her reputation. Especially men.

“ if you have any idea what’s good for you, you’ll take your pills. And fuck off” she turned to you then “ and you. Come with me “ she walked off before waiting for a response from either of you, making a beeline for the back alley leading out of the courtyard. No one would bother her down there, the only entrance that lead from that way was the one from anyone coming from outside the wall. Which wasn’t very often.

She didn’t have to look behind her to know you’d be following. Even when you were in the mood to piss her off you were still desperate to please.

So she waited a few moments and then you appeared, strolling into the alley like you didn’t have a single care in the world. And she was reaching the limits of her patience.

She grabbed you by the wrist and pushed you back against the wall, hiding effectively behind a stack of wooden crates.

“ you okay Tess? You seem a little tense today “ god you were infuriating. She laughed and shook her head, trapping you against the wall with a hand resting beside your head.

“ the fuck was that back there? Huh? “ confusion twisted into your features, but the smirk tugging at your lips gave it away that you weren’t even remotely confused by her question. You knew exactly what you’d done “ you think it’s funny? “

“ I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“ oh you don’t? “

“ I was just making a trade. You’re a little scary you know, the new ones always prefer to come to me. You should smile a little more “ you reached up and poked at her face lightly “ I think you scared my customer away “

“ good. He needs to keep his fuckin hands to himself “

“ shame. He was quite nice “ the little monster that lived in her chest was trying to claw its way out, a pointless feeling of jealousy threatening to overwhelm her. It truly was pointless. She knew you were toying with her. You were playing her like a violin, messing with her to get what you wanted.

“ wanna go back out to him? Be my fuckin guest “ she knew you wouldn’t. Knew she had you exactly where you wanted to be. Though a small part of her did wonder if you would. Just to piss her off a little more.

“ you should know by now I’m not into the nice type “ she exhaled shortly through her nose and gave a small nod. She knew. Tess was not one for softness and romance. Yeah, from time to time it would slip out. But that’s not what you wanted from her. It’s why you worked together so well.

Her fingers brushed over the exposed skin of your neck, almost annoyed at the lack of purple and red marks she found. Maybe that was why the fucker back there had been so willing and accepting to your loaded advances. How could she have been so careless. To let her possessive marks vanish. Her clear silent brand that you were spoken for.

“ you don’t think I’m nice? “

“ there’s different meanings to different people “ she couldn’t help herself and dropped her head down to your neck, the blank expanse of your skin frustrating her. You tilted your head to give her access to more of you, attacking the blank canvas of flesh with her teeth “ see. Nice girls don’t behave like this. You taught me that “ she laughed against your skin, biting a little harder than she really needed to. Just to hear the delicious sound it would draw from you.

She knew she wasn’t nice. Not in the conventional sense. But you didn’t want nice. You didn’t want a cosy and warm relationship, soft forehead kisses and vanilla sex, cruising along in life and abiding by the rules.

You wanted her. You wanted the way she was rough, she was all teeth and bruises and hair pulls. She threw you around and left you wrecked for anyone else but her. And she knew that was how you were. She knew that was what you wanted. What you needed. Needing some kind of reminder that you were real, that the fucked up mess of the world around you wasnt a nightmare. You needed her to bring you back to life. And she was more than happy to oblige.

“ so what? You gonna take me home? “ she didn’t quite know when exactly she had decided she wasn’t going to take you home. The idea had arisen quite suddenly and she’d decided to act on it just as fast, quite certain she didn’t actually have it in her to take you all the way home. Not when she was so wound up.

That paired with the smugness still interlacing between the syllables of your words… she had a point to prove.

“ no “ you gave her a confused look and now it was her turn to smirk “ you act like that and think you get to choose if we go home or not? Gotta be fuckin kiddin me baby “ she leant in close to your face, her hand moving up and applying pressure to your throat. She felt your breath stutter, your fingers wrapping around her wrist. Not so cocky anymore.

“ Tess someone might- “

“ what? You were okay with behaving like some common fuckin whore out there in front of everyone, but not here for me? Breaking my fuckin heart “ she liked the way you seemed to lose all of your cockiness in an instant. She practically watched it drain from your features.

“ I wasn’t doing shit I was working “ Tess quirked a brow and smiled, fingers moving to unbutton your jeans. The second her fingers slipped into your underwear and she felt how wet you were, her smile grew. She wondered if you knew how much she truly loved how easy it was to make you wet. How much it turned her on just to have you so willingly at her mercy, how much you so clearly wanted to be used by her even if you attempted to deny it.

“ I’m not stupid. I know what you were doing. You think I didn’t know this is what you wanted? “ a soft moan slipped past your lips as she dragged your arousal up and slowly circled your clit “ you wet for me or that fucker back there? Huh? “

“ what do you fuckin think? “ Tess raised her eyebrows and shook her head, not the biggest fan of your tone of voice. Your breath hitched as she set herself into a steady rhythm, losing your cool and cocky demeanour as she worked you into a mess. It never took her long. She could read you like a book and knew how and where to touch you to have you melting in minutes.

“ the attitude on you sweetheart “ she increased the speed of her fingers, applied more pressure to your neck. She watched the way your eyes fluttered closed, loving the way the light headed bliss washed over you “ that’s it baby, can’t talk back now can you “

Your eyes fell onto hers as she slipped two fingers into you, not bothering to ease you into it with one. You were wet enough for it, she knew.

“ fuck- “

“ you think you’re so powerful don’t you? Thinking you can fuck around like that? Look at you now “ she kept her voice low, in that tone that she knew you loved. That made your velvety walls flutter against the fingers she was thrusting in and out of you roughly “ do you think they all know back there? That you’re back here with me getting fucked like a little slut? Do you? “

You whimpered out an answer your nails digging painfully into the skin of her wrist

“ I’m sorry “ your whimpers and whines were cute but she found it mildly funny that you thought they would make her go easy on you. She was only getting started.

“ not good enough “ her thumb applied pressure to your clit and you moaned loudly at the feeling “ acting like you’re so big. So bad. But who’s the one getting fucked in an alley? What do you think they’d say if they saw you now? Saw you a pathetic mess having your cunt stretched out by my fingers? Hmm? “

“ I- I said I’m sorry. I’m- fuck “

“ you should be. I look after you, I take care of you. And yet you behave like that? Such a spoiled little brat. You want more? I bet you want more don’t you “ your moans were increasing in pitch and she was a little cautious of being caught, but she was far too preoccupied by you to care completely. By the own arousal pooling in her belly, she didn’t need to be touched to get off. Watching you fall apart at her hands was enough

“ yes. Yes. More “ you begged. She loved hearing you beg.

“ greedy girl “ she glanced down at her hand that was hidden in your jeans and smiled, adjusting the slightly awkward angle and carefully adding a third finger to the mix. You winced at the new stretch and she gave you a moment before continuing her movements.

“ fuck Tess “ the sounds falling from your mouth mixed with the sopping sound of your cunt stretching around her fingers was almost too distracting, fighting the urge to stop and take you home so she could fuck you properly.

You were getting louder, even when she stifled your sounds for a moment with a more firm grip on your throat. When she could feel your pulse hammering beneath her finger tips.

“ nice and quiet. Or do you want them all to hear you? Is that what you want? “ it’s what she wanted. Deep down. A part of her desperately wanted people to hear, to remind everyone and anyone that thought they had a chance with you to back off. But a louder part of her was yelling at her, that she didn’t want anyone finding you both there. So you’d have to quiet down “ quiet “ she warned.

She sighed in mild annoyance when you didn’t listen.

“ sorry I- I can’t- “ so she clamped her hand down over your mouth and shook her head in disappointment. Though internally she was unbelievably fucking smug, very much getting off on the fact that you couldn’t control yourself. Because of her. You were a whimpering, shuddering wreck because of her.

She wondered if she should have planned this a little more thoroughly before executing it. If she could’ve roped Joel into dragging the man you had been flirting with down that alley too. Forced him to watch. Get a couple of hits in to really cement the fact. That you were hers. No one else’s. You weren’t to be touched. Or looked at. Or even thought about but anyone but her.

In an ideal world where she didn’t act on impulse and actually planned that exact moment, that’s what would have happened. Maybe she’d have even taken you some place more secluded. Where she didn’t have to force you to be quiet, where she could let you be loud. Let that bastards ears be filled with you moaning her name. The wet sounds of your cunt soaking her fingers.

He’d never get to have you like that. He’d never get to feel the way you clenched on her fingers, the way your inner walls were so soft. No one would. Only her.

But maybe that was for another time. In that moment she was quite pleased with herself, pleased with the way she had you whimpering into her one hand and dripping all over the other.

She wished you could see how pathetic you looked there for her, squirming in her hold, eyes rolling to the back of your head as she pushed you closer the edge. Her hand across your mouth, neck covered in fresh hickeys, your arms grazing against the brick wall.

“ I don’t want you acting like that anymore. You understand me? “ she curled her fingers as she said it, pressing at the spot she knew sent you spiralling. That she knew would render you unable to respond, that gave you that wonderful blank look in your eyes when all you could think about was her. Exactly as she wanted you. You nodded your head, eyes falling closed “ I can’t have you showing me up like that again“

She couldn’t. She didn’t need people seeing you treat her like a pushover, so easily able to walk all over her. She was in charge. She had the control. You were hers

“ who do you belong to? “ she asked you, moving her hand down from your mouth and gripping at your chin “ who? “

“ you “ you said breathlessly, your chest heaving and grip on her wrist tightening. She knew you well enough to know when you were almost there, recognised the sounds. The look in your eyes. The way you tightened around her fingers.

“ say it again”

“ fuck- “ she was a little cautious of how loud you were being again but she wanted to hear you say it, needed you to say her name and feed the jealous creature sitting in her chest.

“ say it or I swear I will leave you here like this “ she threatened “ say my name baby “

“ Tess “ you gasped, voice high and breathy “ Tess. You I belong to you please- “ she smiled and gave a small nod.

“ that’s my girl “ she moved her hand back over your mouth as you came, whining loudly even muffled by her fingers “ you fuckin remember that yeah? You’re mine “ she said against your ear as she worked you through it, coming over her fingers “ all mine “ she kept going, only withdrawing her fingers when you slumped against her. Legs shaking and chest heaving as you caught your breath.

She dropped her hand from your mouth, eyes scanning your face and an overwhelming smugness settling over her at your fucked out appearance.

“ did I make myself clear? “ she asked quietly, thumb brushing over your lips.

“ crystal “ she pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before letting you go and taking a step back, running a hand through her hair as she looked at her handiwork. It was clear as day what had just happened and she took great pride in the fact that you would walk back into that courtyard, and everyone would know. Bruises were blooming on your throat, your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen from your teeth sinking into them, hair dishevelled.

“ I’ll let you get back to work then shall I? “ she said with a smile as if it were the most normal thing.

“ you fuckin kidding me? “ she shrugged and leant forward to press a kiss to your cheek “ just keep your hands to yourself this time “ then she stepped back and made her way back to Joel, almost sauntering her way back to the table where he was still sat.

The cat who had gotten the cream.

“ you are fuckin unbelievable “ he muttered with a shake of his head as she sat back in her chair, arms folded over her chest and eyes locked on the entrance to the alleyway waiting for you to appear.

“ deal me some new cards Texas “ he shook his head with a sigh but gathered up the cards again as you re appeared. You had tried to make yourself look more presentable by the looks of things, but even if people could excuse the flushed look of your cheeks or the glazed look in your eyes. There was no escaping the freshly bloomed artwork she’d left on your neck.

She’d like to see anyone try it on with you now.

[eternalglitch]

Right okay so slightly different from my usual programming but after three years of Rise brainrot the turtles have been finally vacated and I must discuss my new blorbos with great fondness at least a little. (Do not worry about my ongoing fic. That is almost my own personal blorbos at this point and I must see them off to a happy ending.)

So I've always had terrible auditory processing skills, to the point where I have made it through one (1) podcast despite my many attempts otherwise and thought this meant I was locked out of the fun dnd content.

And then one of my favorite fanfic authors from a few years back started reblogging Dimension 20's Neverafter art.

Now I had at a problem because if they endorsed this and then I spotted a character that literally seemed to be crafted to fit my interests, I had to at least poke my head into the show. So I sat down and watched episode one.

That was about two weeks ago. Almost immediately I dragged more friends into watch parties to catch up to the campaign and have gotten a SOLID chunk of my close friends into it already. This campaign is something else, the way it just grabs you in a way that I thought would never happen for me for a dnd campaign.

So (and some Neverafter spoilers ahead) Neverafter is a story about fairytale characters fighting against their "destiny" or "roles." As the world changes and their tales progressively darken, they start learning about the concept of authors, and how bad things happen to them just because an impartial outside force finds it the most interesting. The horror of being the wrong version of the story, of knowing your story should have been happy and is not. Or knowing that your story is destined to be tragic and you have no say in the matter.

And honestly every single character is compelling in their own way!

Pinocchio is the one that lured me into the story. A puppet that was given life and, after completing the traditional narrative to his story, breaks his promise to the fairy and lies to save his father's life. His lie transforms him back into a puppet, where he becomes entangled into lying more and more and more and backed into a corner by a cruel warlock patron that is essentially holding his father hostage. He's snapped his own nose off because although his own rules (his nose growing) are still in place, the world has changed. His back is against the wall and this is a scared child trying to save his dad. (He's also hilarious and swears like he just learned what the word fuck is.)

Sleeping Beauty is a victim to her story being events that happen TO her but at no point does she get allowed any initiative. When she wakes up to find no prince waiting for her, she has to learn that maybe waiting for her happily ever after isn't what would make her happy and she has to take matters back into her own hands.

Puss in Boots (Pib) is seemingly (there's more to it) a normal cat that happens to have also tricked an entire kingdom before fleeing and abandoning the kingdom to a dark fate. He lies for fun and is a great partner in crime to Pinocchio.

Red Riding Hood is a child that killed her own family when the big bad wolf gave her lycanthropy before begging her to kill him. She's a girl that is seeking parental love and guidance, and she views herself as a monster unworthy of the very love she seeks.

The Frog Prince is what I consider the dark horse favorite; Gerard got his happily ever after and his standard story happened, but after marrying his true love and time passed, he started to turn back into a frog. As his wife and him argued and started seeing each other's perspectives less and less, he became more and more froglike. Now that she's gone missing after heading off to war, Gerard has to face his own cowardice and come to terms with what really was the thing that drove a wedge in between them. (I love him. So much. He's extremely flawed and such a three-dimensional character.)

Mother Timothy Goose is a man that lost his child to an evil goose called the Gander, and is currently being hunted down by the same creature. He accidentally entered a contractual three wishes deal with it, his own wish being to find a way to save his dead son. This has granted him a magical book that has much deeper abilities than merely bringing his own son back from the dead, and he's one of the people that can help right the wrongs going on in the land of Neverafter even as he is hunted by the Gander as it tries to make him use his final wish.

So, yeah. I recommend trying it if you like horror and fairytales. It's fun. (I am not normal about it.)

[sam-loves-seb]

weely tag wednesday

thanks for the tags @energievie @metalheadmickey @deedala !

which character from any media would you like to have as a father? jed bartlet (the west wing)

if money, laws, time, and effort were no object, what animal would you want to have? probably just a cat tbh i'm not a big animal person (i think they're neat, i just don't really have the desire to own any of them)

what is your Chinese takeout order? pork fried rice and chicken fingers

what's your favourite emoji? this one: ✨

would you rather have a library, greenhouse, or home theater in your house? a home theater. a library would be sick but i read mostly ebooks so i think a theater would get more use out of me.

what childhood tv show do you think of the most fondly? Spongebob Squarepants. me and my sister used to watch this every single night with our dad when we were little, but if we wanted to stay up and watch it we had to be all ready for bed by the time it came on

what was your tumblr like when you first joined? it was a lot of reblogs of aesthetic photographs because it was 2012 and i was 14. not long after that tho it turned into a sebastian stan fan blog which is how i got my url, and over time that slowly morphed into the multi fandom madness you see today

what clothing style do you love but don't feel compelled to replicate yourself? god i don't know, my closet is a little bit of everything because i always wanna try a new style when i see it. i honestly don't think i have an answer for this one, i really do love fashion and my style is constantly changing

if you were plopped into a fictional world, which one would you know the layout of the best? i have no idea. acotar maybe? solely because i've read those books so many times? yeah i guess i'll go with that

what is your favourite piece of art? café terrace at night

do you have a water bottle? what does it look like? i have a light blue wide mouth nalgene water bottle that is covered in stickers and has two friendship bracelets dangling from the cap strap. it's giving major camp counselor vibes.

what fanfic trope is a quiet fave? look, if i go on a quiet hunt for fics tagged aftercare every now and then, that is between me and god so shut the fuck up about it

do you carry a daily bag? what does it look like? what's the weirdest thing in it? nope. i don't have an office bag bc i wfh and on the weekends i absolutely despise carrying a purse. i have one of those phone cases with card slots on the back and it holds everything i could possibly need.

if you had to ship Mickey with another Gallagher, who would it be? sexually i think it'd have to be lip, but if i could platonically ship him with someone i think i'd pick fiona. idk i just think they'd get along better than anyone would think.

what is a fanfic trope you didn't expect to like and then very much did? friends to lovers kinda snuck up on me in my adulthood. i used to be very against it as a teen, but now that i'm grown and have actually seen the trope done well in fics and in media, it's one of my favorite tropes of all time.

Do you think s11 Mickey can still carry s11 Ian? yes 100% absolutely and anyone who says otherwise is lying. (did we all see noel's s11 body? we saw the abs right? mans was ripped in the last season even tho the writers like, never showed it, and it is my personal mission to avenge this wrongdoing) i'm kidding about the lying part but yeah, he absolutely can still carry s11 ian, being able to lift his husband is the only reason he still goes to the gym

who got custody of the killing bat when they sold the house? debbie. i think carl wanted it, but he already has a gun so he gave it to debbie instead.

tagging: @suchagallabitch @gallawitchxx @callivich @michellemisfit @iansw0rld and anyone else who wants to play !

[skzstoryvault]

Erase and Rewind (angst, fluff, smut - Hyunjin - Final part)

F!Reader

ex!Chan

good friend Hyunjin

multi chapter story

this chapter: feelings and smut

Chan broke up with reader

Reader is moving on

Hyunjin is being a supportive friend

Featuring insecurities, internalised misogyny and self-hate

This is in no way meant as a commentary on the real persons depicted here. They all deserve the world.

Please be kind.

Please do not report this post. If it's not your thing, just scroll away.

If you're underage, please scroll on, there is nothing for you here.

If you enjoy this story and are reading along, I would love to hear your comments in the replies, reblogs or DMs - however you feel most comfortable.

*** Part 3

You were single for two Valentine’s Days and for two White Days now, and other than staying in and distracting yourself with action movies, you did not feel the seasonal sadness affect you. Not to mention, there were other friends of yours who weren’t big on celebrating those things and who invited you to their houses for casual gatherings. Minho hosted a silent rave at his house one year (which Chan and his girlfriend skipped), Felix invited himself over one White Day, with cake ingredients and his infectious good mood. You were doing great.

This year, for White Day, Hyunjin declared the entire world could fuck off with its lovey dovey shit and he invited you for an art experience at a gallery which provided huge canvases, non-toxic paints and small thongs for the clients to use for painting on each other, then rolling across the canvasses and creating their own unique art pieces. “Uh… this is a literal string. My whole dick is out.” Hyunjin said from the changing booth next to yours. 

“My outfit has no bra. Granted there’s not much that can go in it but I bet you didn’t sign up to see my nips on this God’s fine day.” “Shall I tell the staff we’re not doing it? If you’re uncomfortable?” “How much did you look forward to this, Hyune? And also, this must have been such a headache to organise, for you, with how booked you are. And aren’t you uncomfortable?” “Well, I really wanted to do it. I thought it would be nice for us to have this special thing in common.” 

“Tell you what. Let’s still do it - butt naked. I know you love me and won’t laugh at me, and the same goes for me too.” “Fuck yes!” Hyunjin burst out of his booth, naked and in flip flops. “Jewellery - on or off?” You thought for a bit. “Off, I’d say, we don’t want the canvas to snag. Or for you to be up at three am, cleaning out paint from your custom diamond pieces with the toothbrush.” 

“One less thing to jiggle around.” He said, heading for the canvases. “These really are big.” You exited your booth too, joining him, also in your birthday suit. “Shall we begin? Please, no pastels for me.” By the time he was halfway done with putting paint on you, you noticed him fidgeting and noticed why, as well. “Look, it happens, okay? You’re young and fit, a breeze coming in through the open window can give you a semi. It’s fine.” “It’s not a breeze though, it’s you. “ Hyunjin said. “You’re just so fine, and the fact that you wanted us to do this, even naked… so hot. But don’t worry, I’ll behave. I know how you feel about sex with men lately.” 

“Er, that was almost two years ago. The sex itself is not the issue, the other shit it came with is. And… you think that’s the issue??? Hold up… excuse me for presuming here but… I didn’t think you’d be into me. Chan said you don’t like women.”

“He… what?” Hyunjin gasped so hard you feared he might straight up hyperventilate. “Or… that’s what I understood. I don’t remember the exact phrasing but he said that if you fished in the same pond no one would ever be so much as noticed by girls.” “Well maybe I don’t crop dust my charms all over the world because I’m not about all that. Whenever my hormones are taking the reigns, I use that energy and that drive to make art, to dance, to train, to push myself harder. To be the perfect whore for Stay so they’ll give me the most attention. I really don’t think I have to be a slave to every erection that comes and goes. I guess from the others’ end it might look different.” He said, looking down at his now behaving dick. “Case in point. Although I’ve been insanely attracted to you since we met, but then you went for Channie and I thought, eh, we’re not the same type, I’m not even an option. I’m not as confident and in charge as him and I’m shy so I… decided I would take any kind of place in your life you deigned to give me. But then he broke up with you, like a donkey, I might add, and you were so hurt and defeated, I though it inappropriate to still have a crush on you. I didn’t want to feel like I was friends with you for… predatory reasons. Just know that I think you’re everything and also… there’s these. Warning, I am not trying to be a pervert but look… I’ve had it done in Japan.” The madman. The absolute, perfect, amazing dumbass, you thought, looking at the twin scars. 

You pointed to yours, now faded and pretty much invisible unless you drew attention to them.

“We… we actually match.” You said, feeling tears threaten to spill. “Jinnie… I’m going to cry! But… are you sure? That’s pretty extreme.” “I am crying! And yes, I am very sure. I can always adopt a child who needs love, and between you and me every time I hear people say how beautiful my kids will be with this creepy sort of entitlement… I used to shudder, now I can laugh about it.” He said, scooching closer to hug you. “We’re mixing up our paints. And… and I can’t believe I scrounged up the balls to tell you. And you like it? Like… me?” “Jinnie… you’ve given me back to me this past year plus. And it’s not just gratitude, don’t think you have to work hard to earn my affection, but… you carved out all the darkness from my world and replaced it with your colours. I should be so lucky to have your love, in this way or another. Your love is worth the risk. You’ve taught me there are no guarantees beyond what we choose to give each other today. And I want your love, if you want mine in return.” 

Hyunjin just sobbed harder, everything else forgotten for a long, elastic moment stretching outside of time, in which the two of you sat naked and entangled in the middle of a tarp, covered in colours. Still crying, Hyunjin took your hand and helped you up. He rolled you across your canvas and you moved him across his own. You then stood, together, looking at your finished art pieces from further away. “They’re beautiful, Jinnie.” You said, moving closer to him and taking his hand in yours. “And they match perfectly. Like us.” He said, finally finding your lips with his, enveloping you in his arms and holding you close, glued to him. 

It didn’t even feel like you were naked with him then. He made you feel so safe and seen, you forgot you were supposed to feel self-conscious.

You went back to your place after the gallery, to wash the rest of the colours off and to continue your make-out session. Still damp and with steam coming off of your skins, you collapsed between your sheets together, kissing ravenously, hands roaming and mapping previously off limits parts. You ended up in a tangle of limbs on the bed, Hyunjin’s cock down your throat and his tongue in your pussy. The way you both pulled and squeezed at each other’s skin, trying to get deeper, closer, was matched only by the neediness in your sounds. You had always guessed Hyunjin was the vocal type, now you knew for sure and his gone moans and whimpers made your core clench painfully and your walls slicker. It felt good and normal, that sense of vulnerability you hadn’t liked before nowhere to be found. You knew, deep in the back of your mind, that you and Hyunjin were thick as thieves and even if he did move on from you sexually, he would never cut you out of his life and allow you to fade into the faceless crowd of people who orbit him but are inconsequential to him. He comes without warning, from you running a wet finger over his hole and you pull back a bit so you wouldn’t choke or hurt him, focusing on drinking him down and not spilling a drop. He tastes so clean and familiar, and you know it’s psychological, this part - the thought that taking his come inside you can’t harm you or change the course of your life to a trajectory not of your choosing. This is, of course, in line with how Hyunjin makes you feel in every other way: seen, protected and cared for. Like a precious secret or a superpower. 

You don’t expect to come, you’re too lost in the tsunami of emotions crashing down on you, and usually when there’s a disconnect between mind and body, nothing happens, but this time, Hyunjin pushes you down that steep slide by simply keeping at devouring you with his lips, his tongue, his long and gentle fingers. You don’t expect it, yet you start shaking like a leaf in autumn and feel yourself gush all over his face, an actual scream tearing out from you at how unexpectedly intense it feels. 

By the time you can breathe normally again and can string two thoughts together, Hyunjin is still panting and his skin feels like it’s burning. He’s sweating profusely, like from an hour-long dance practice. His hands are still idly caressing you where he can reach, your thighs, your hips, your belly. 

“Give me a moment and I’ll fuck you until we black out.” He says, his intoxicatingly appealing confidence making you shiver again. “Going to fuck every memory of Channie-hyung from you so you’re all mine.” 

It’s a double-edged sword kind of comment that could land well or really badly, but the fact that he risked it for your own benefit is incredible. 

Hyunjin already pieced all the broken parts of you together and glued them with his gold.  You don’t know why or how, certainly not because you’re special - because you know you’re not. But on the other hand, he went all in too, and if it’s all a cruel prank or some background bet with the boys, it’s a damn high value one. “You being in your head, listening to your mean girl voice?” Hyunjin asks, sitting up and coming to caress your face. “Tell me.” He adds, leaning down to lick your lips into opening, sucking your lower one and then biting into it just the right amount so it stings but doesn’t hurt. “I want you fully here for what I’m going to do to you.” 

His words make you gasp. “I’m still wondering why you chose me. I’m just a girl. Not even the prettiest.” 

“To me you are THE girl.” Hyunjin says, bringing a hand up to caress your lips with careful, featherlight fingertips. “You can learn so much about a person when you dance with them, it’s so intimate and electric. I’ve never felt like this, like I want to take all of you and put you inside me and protect you from the world.” 

His words send pure pleasure sparking up and down your spine, you never expected someone would feel like this about you and he’s right, that feeling when you dance together, that you are one soul in two bodies - you’ve felt it too and it was all-overpowering. 

You close your eyes briefly, against the tide of rushing sensations coursing through you. Underneath, like the dark waters of the ocean, are your feelings, which are also stirring. You could love Hyunjin in the same all-consuming, all-overtaking way he acts towards you. The feeling of safety he gives you is unlike anything you’ve felt before and makes you want to go anywhere he wants to take you. 

You become aware of the closeness of your bodies, the way your heated skins touch almost all over, with Hyunjin now half on top of you, with a leg bent and thrown possessively over you. His cock is pressed against your hip, leaking on your skin there, hard already. Everything about him is so ethereally beautiful, from his pillowy soft lips and his spindly, strong and gentle fingers, to his cock, long and thick and now hard again. You run the hand currently not carding through his hair down along the thigh he had flung across you, and the muscles shift subtly beneath your fingertips. He makes a completely ruined sound, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them to look at you. “Can I? Please, can I?”

“Yes, Jinnie, you can always have me. I’m all yours now.”

“Only mine, too.” He whispers, as though he’s manifesting it for himself. “Help me? I don’t want to mess this up.” You nod, reaching down and guiding him to rest against your entrance. One deep breath later and you’re breaching yourself  before he takes over, pushing in just the tiniest bit. The stretch is just on this side of pain, after so long. You’re turned on out of your mind though, and he can slide in easily, but you want to feel more of that stretch. “Slowly, until you bottom out. I want to feel all of this.” You say, voice coming out raspy and breathless. “Heavens, Jinnie - you feel perfect.” 

He lets out a breath he’s been holding for ages, it seems, lowering his forehead to yours. “I’m afraid to move. If I do, I’ll bust.” He says, his eyes closed. You could be with him like this forever. Him above you, inside you, trembling like a leaf from all the things rushing through him. He never looks more gorgeous than he does in moments like this one, fully naked with you, inside out, no make-up, no retouches. Soon, he does move - halfway propped up on an arm while the other one is under you, pulling you closer and anchoring him to you, wrecked-sounding and with eyes squeezed closed, lower lip chewed up and hair sticking in wet tendrils to his face and neck. He looks like a god. 

It takes him a bit to find an angle and a pace he can sustain, and all the pressing and wriggling around just pushes him closer into you, so close that every movement of his hips is felt in your clit, and you just know it’s a matter of when by now, not if he makes you come. “I can’t… fuck, I can’t…” he pants out in frustration. “I can’t hold it long enough, I’m sorry.” He adds, collapsing on you and peppering apologetic kisses all over your face and neck.

You know he means he can’t hold a steady rhythm in this position, not long enough to get you both to that place where you both fall over the edge. 

“Kneel up, baby. Sit back and spread your legs beneath me.” You guide him. He can definitely do it, he has the strength for it, and the hubris needed to attempt to pull off the switch in position while still inside you. 

“Oh… my… God!” He exclaims when it works and he finds himself with you in his lap, with your legs on either side of him, grinding on his length which is now buried impossibly deeper inside you. His first reaction once he’s sat down and his heels are digging into the sheets is to pull you close and bury his face in your neck, leaving a deep mark at the spot where your neck meets the shoulder. For a moment, he forgets to move up into you, distracted by how much closer he can have you now, how much easier it is to reach your neck, your collarbones, the swell of your breasts, your nipples. “Are you close, baby?” You press out, wanting his focus. If he forgets himself now, the rhythmic squeezing of your walls around his cock buried deep inside you and the maddening, overwhelming feel of his lips and fingers on your nipples will throw you over the edge and leave him behind. And any other time, that would be perfectly fine, but you need him with you this time, the first time of many. 

“Yes, fuck, this is so… it’s everything!” He pants. “I was close since you let me in. I’m barely holding on, so you don’t think I-” He gets cut off by the next squeeze of your walls around his length when you’re seated flush in his lap. “Oh fu-” Hyunjin goes cross-eyed briefly, holding on to you and pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you and locking you in, your front glued to his. 

Seeing him lose it for you, because of you, throws you over the edge too, sparks of pleasure turning into currents shooting up and down your spine, spreading tingles all over you, all the way to your toes. As soon as your heavy breathing goes down a bit, you lean in and kiss Hyunjin, stealing his breath and licking along his now spit-slick lips. He’s going slack beneath you and you push him backwards so he ends up lying down on the bed. You follow, his softening cock slipping out of you, causing you both to whine at the loss of contact and the sound of your bodies separating wetly. 

“That was… holy… I knew it would be good but… because it was with you, it was out of this world. I felt like I died and got zapped back to life.” Hyunjin speaks, his words leaving his chest slowly. He sounds so dreamy and relaxed, like he might fall asleep while talking. “I want to do it again and again, till I can’t move or remember my name. I want to let you try everything on me. Tie me up, fuck me, blindfold me, spank me, pi-” “Jinnie!” You chime from your comfy spot on top of him. “I appreciate the enthusiasm. I guess we have to stay together for a little while so we can try all the things you want.” 

“I want that. I want to try it all with you.” He says, sounding far away and half into the land of dreams already. “Wanna keep you fucked out and pleased all the time. Or… uhhh, do things in your own time? I want to tell Stay about you right away, to sort the haters out and to be able to be together like normal people.” "You don't have to. People are full of hate, Jinnie. I want you to keep being the loveable brat, the prince and the spoiled baby in public. You should be Stay's best and cutest husband, it's good for your career. Better than announcing a girlfriend." "But... won't you hate being kept a secret?" "Babe, I'm being selfish. I don't want the world to be in on our relationship. And well, statistically, we have more of a chance to last as a couple if we don't invite everyone else out there into it." "Then I'll do what feels right for you. I like being an idol and I love being yours now. If I can continue doing both... all the better. And we can keep hanging out like before, I need to see you every day when I'm around here." “Mmm, good thing you said that, I don’t want us to go from being besties to only being strictly dickly.” You say, finding a comfortable spot to snuggle next to your boyfriend. “A lot of people have dicks, but there’s only one of you, my good sweet Hyune.” 

“Don’t stop, go on,” he says, his eyes closed and a smile tugging on his lip corners. 

“You are so good to me, my baby. You gave me my joy back.” You say. “Wanna keep you to myself for so long.” 

You’re not sure he heard the last part, since he’s already snoring softly, like a cat purring itself to sleep. But the words that left your lips are enough of a shock to you already.  It’s the truth. Hyunjin never cared how much of a mess you were. To him, you’re the hottest thing in the world and he gave you more than 100% of himself in every way. 

[monsterlovinghours]

What about the Dons in DnD world? 🤔

I'm sure some are really easy but fell free to do an in depth analysis on their role and backstory. (The easiest one would definitely be Scarabee 👀)

Ooooohh. Since I'm on my phone and typing out long things is hard I prooooobably won't go too in-depth but I invite y'all to reblog with your own thoughts and opinions!

-A while back @realmonsterboyhours drew Bajo as a tiefling and now I can't see him as anything else. He's also bard coded, he's definitely got the charisma for it--he also plays that sexy flamenco guitar.

-You're absolutely right though, Scarabee is a no-brainer. Obviously a warlock, he's got a patron already part of his lore. Has just about every spell or potion ingredient you could think of up in his attic. As for race, I could see a half-elf. Like, there's something of the fey about him, but he's been human or at least knows what being human is like.

-Zhuk is an orc and I'll die on this hill. He's big, he's beefy, he's large and in charge. I'm also going with barbarian, based solely again on art drawn by @realmonsterboyhours of him holding a sledgehammer. Imagine big-ass swords in those meathooks of his. Or a giant axe. Or just picture him saying "fuck it" and beating someone to death with his bare hands. Look at me and tell me he wouldn't do it. Not because he isn't civilized or intelligent but because someone's gotta do the dirty work.

-Cia is an elf druid. I mean, *look at him.* Mans is about as fey coded as you can get and looks like he didn't see something that wasn't a tree until he hit triple digits. If you took the daddy energy out of Halsin, you'd be left with Ciaróg. Also, he helps his tiefling husband with his rose gardens and how cute is that??

-Gio is an enigma. He's absolutely an eldritch horror, but just for funsies, I think he'd take the form of a drow. After a couple of centuries he might change his form, but drow is his favorite. He has a lot of arcane knowledge, things that beings of this plane shouldn't know, so he just tells everyone he's a wizard. Did a lot of studying, you know.

-Saft a half-orc artificer. He's a bit of a big boi, sturdy and thick, but despite his size and his brutish heritage, he can tinker with the most delicate mechanisms. Mostly uses his knowledge to make explosives and weapons; incendiary devices are his favorite. Has built so many guns.

-Bjalla is a vampire. "hhhh but what's his race" LISTEN HERE I'M NOT CHANGING WHAT'S ALREADY PERFECT. Of course he's a fucking vampire, what else would he be? And yes, I believe he would be a rogue. No, I am not saying this because I'm also madly in love with Astarion. There will be no further questions. He's canonically an assassin, you can't tell me he wouldn't be a rogue. Yes, I have a type, leave me alone dammit.

-Mozzie gives me dwarf energy, though his size doesn't quite gel with that idea. Maybe an earth genasi? Something earthy idk. He also gives ranger vibes, someone who travels a bunch. Though in this realm of high fantasy, since internet isn't a thing, he deals in information. He can gather intel, spread rumors, manipulate the flow of knowledge from one person or place to another.

-Lag is a firbolg. He's big, he's fluffy, he's a big ol sweetheart who couldn't hurt a soul if he tried. Also probably a druid, though he's less concerned with plant life and more with animals. He's the fauna to Cia's flora.

-Devlin is a shifter. Like, it's obvious, right? Clearly he's a shifter, he's werewolf coded. And honestly, I think he's our cleric, just because I had the idea that the deity he worships is so ancient and he's been cursed so many times, he's actually forgotten its name. But also how funny would it be to have a cleric that bestows blessings and makes things holy by literally absorbing the curses and evil magic. It's fine, he's fine, it doesn't hurt! Not anymore, anyway.

[kharmii]

I think for the sake of your reading comprehension, you should review the actual meanings behind the following terms, since it’s clear you have zero idea what either means:

Troll

Antis

Perhaps you should also just stop reposting other people’s art altogether, since you didn’t actually draw it. Perhaps you should, I don’t know, just stick to reblogging, or posting your own art, and stop trying to only get likes due to the talent of other people. Crazy thought.

No, I get it. Anti stands for 'anti-shipping', so presumably, a person can be against shipping cartoon identical twins as an aesthetic because of icky irl incest, yet they can also be into morbidly obese shitting dick nipple a/b/o werewolf knotting smut.

It's true I'm failing at trolling, as trolling is supposed to be throwing random incediary jabs to stir people up. One isn't supposed to throw out valid points or ask reasonable questions, such as when I asked what percentage of anti-shippers are grossed out by my identical twin fixation but will turn around and think it's okay to post gross-ass monster fucking two-dick vore fics in cartoon animal fandoms or fandoms that don't even have anything to do with being a furry, such as pokemon world train clowns. Monsters don't exist irl, yo! That makes it not a moral issue! At least I don't take my twin fixation and incorporate it into every fandom that exists so that's all anybody sees.

There's no way I'd ever stop reposting. This blog is too massive. I always have 300-500 posts in my queue, and some holidays are already covered. Fans into the same hyperfixations can look at my archive and see fun, beautiful art that isn't peppered with the same furry fetish trash almost every other site has. It's like being on Danbooru, but without porn, and it's just me posting. Anyway, stats of most used tags as of 09/07/23....

Subway Bosses: 3612 posts.

Gardevoir: 2726 posts:

Gallade: 1636 posts.

Volo: 1292 posts.

Blankshipping only represents 459 of those posts, and most of the twin shipping is "Tweek and Craig" type yaoi where they hold hands and cuddle. Here, have a pinch of edge from 市川美崎@ICKWMGD Twitter.

[slashyrogue]

I posted 993 times in 2022

131 posts created (13%)

862 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@slashyrogue

@rocktheholygrail

@hhannigram

@begitalarcos

@bewds

I tagged 934 of my posts in 2022

Only 6% of my posts had no tags

#hannibal - 366 posts

#hannigram - 260 posts

#fan art - 187 posts

#hannibal lecter - 97 posts

#will graham - 94 posts

#hannigram au - 76 posts

#mads mikkelsen - 67 posts

#hannibal humor - 59 posts

#lol - 42 posts

#fan comics - 40 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#this post is from february and considering how little feedback i'm getting when i write them i'm pretty convinced very few people do

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

When Will goes on a blind date that he gets stood up for he’s ready to call it quits on dating all together. It’s been only just a year from losing his ex fiancé to her ex husband and it seems like he’d be better off staying alone forever. He’s just about to pay for the coffee he’s nursed for the last hour when in walks Molly and her now husband. They notice him and before Will can run she walks over.

“Will,” she says, frowning, “I thought it would be rude for me not to say hello. Are you eating alone?”

He panics.

“Will?”

Molly’s husband is the stereotypical handsome firefighter and seeing him in the flesh is worse than he thought possible.

He doesn’t know what to say.

Which is why someone else says it for him.

He’s startled when someone pulls close out of nowhere, coming in behind him, and kisses his cheek.

“I apologize for my lateness, Beloved. Did you miss me terribly?”

Will blinks at the strange man who’s apparently pretending to be his boyfriend. “I…uh…”

The man, whose suit just screams money, holds out his hand to Molly. “Dr. Hannibal Lecter,” he purrs, “Lovely to meet you, Ms…”

Molly’s eyes are wide. “Foster. I…I’m sorry but…who are you exactly?”

Hannibal smiles at Will. “You didn’t tell her?”

He lets out a long breath and fakes a smile at Molly. “Moll, this is Hannibal. He’s my…”

“Fiancé,” Hannibal says, taking Will’s hand, “Mylimasis…have you lost your ring again?”

“I…I guess so?”

See the full post

60 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

#4

Never underestimate the power of comments. I’ve had two fics I thought I’d never return to again reinvigorate me into writing over ten chapters between them in the the last month.

Always, always, ALWAYS tell a fanfic writer when you enjoy something.

It could be just what they needed.

60 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

#3

He always knew when Adam needed to lock the world away. 

It wasn’t subtle, not even a little, when his Star began to lash out. He’d close himself off, even from Nigel, and Nigel didn’t have it in him to feel rejected. Adam needed him still, he knew, and if that meant he’d give him space that was ok too. 

But sometimes Adam didn’t want space. 

Sometimes he wanted to just exist in their own little universe. 

Just them. 

So he’d cancel all his plans, and make all Adam’s favorites before he got home from work, and when Adam walked in he’d freeze. 

“Nigel?” 

“You want to show me the stars, Darling? Like you used to?” 

Adam would frown, unsure, and yet he’d put on his projector moving it to the middle of the room where Nigel had already set up dinner. They’d sit and he’d tell Nigel all his planet things - everything Nigel had heard so many times before - and when he was done he’d lay closer and closer till they were cuddling staring up at the fake night sky. 

Nigel would kiss his cheek, his forehead, and then his mouth after before Adam looked up and sighed. 

“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow.” 

“Alright, Star.” 

“I don’t want you to go either.” 

Nigel always smiled, kissed him again, and pulled the blankets up over them both. 

“I already told Darko to fuck off this week.” 

Adam would blink at him in surprise. “Why?” 

Nigel would kiss his fingers, the top of his hand, and then put it on his own cheek. “Because I know you, Star. I know when you need it to be just us two, and I’m always ready.” 

Adam would kiss him then, a gift if there ever was one, and they’d fade away into the stars. 

Over and over again.

60 notes - Posted June 24, 2022

#2

Do people even like Spacedogs anymore? 

81 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

*whispers* Spacedogs Summer?

116 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[stringyworm]

I posted 2,448 times in 2022

75 posts created (3%)

2,373 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@transsexualhamlet~

@monzterzack~

@patchyegg87~

@somethingexcessivelyphallic~

@bamsara~

I tagged 524 of my posts in 2022

#thats him!!! thats my babygirl - 85 posts

#pgra2am - 74 posts

#save - 37 posts

#twisted wonderland - 11 posts

#woooaaagggh *eats ur art* - 11 posts

#pgra2am but art - 9 posts

#pinned posts - 7 posts

#me - 6 posts

#art - 6 posts

#ao3 - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#way for him idk what to do because ive never and can’t love anyone that way but i still love him and he’s my closest relationship i’ve had

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Ayyyeeee more!!! This time everyones fave octotrio

The whole time drawing floyd i was kust 😳😳😳😳

I want to touch azuls hair so bad. Playing eith hair is my love language and oh my god azuls hair is just!!!!!

The hand on jade makes me want to stab a hand and perserve it so i cja use it for reference. Its too big for his face :( but i mean yk what they say big hands ;)

10 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

#4

Holy shit its saiki’s birthday today?

Cant belive i was almost late to my fav comfort charcters birthday

12 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

#3

Diasomnia gang

I…I gave up on sebek dont even ask

But i like how they look!!!! Theyre cute

14 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

#2

i wanna see roro fucking overblot

16 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ok hold on…

Listen. Enma Yuuken. I know hes the mc insert just for the comics and everythings about readerxcanon but please!!!! Hear me out.

You know the little windmill in the top corner. Theres a house next to it. Imagine. Youre the groundkeeper of the school. You take care of the campus when schools out and clean mostly everything and are essentially the school janitor. I have like a fully whole thing in my brain thats been stewing for months because i refuse to be isekaid to another world with magic only to go to school again. Id rather be the janitor honestly i already do that alot. But like my oc (who lets be real is really just my self insert so their personality is my personality) lives in the house near the windmill.

Youre a resident of the twisted wonderland world so you have some magic. Been living on campus and keeping it for 5 years (cooncidentally the same amount of time as leona has been a student) when this guy just appears at school (were going by comics events). But crowley asks you to house him for a bit and you have to agree hes ur boss. (Then the prologue happens and he gets moved to ramshackle as an offical student with an official dorm)

And enma is a stronghearted guy with strong morals. He seems like the type of guy to be duty bound. He was originally supposed to help you with cleaning around the school but was taken off the task. But he still goes back to help you when he has free time…

I am down abysmally for a carefee life where i have a place i can live on my own surrounded by grass and trees and animals and that guy who comes occasianlly to help with work and taste test cake i make myself sometimes.

42 notes - Posted August 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[somebodysaidimpulsive]

✧✧ smth smth intro post wooo ✧✧

hello and welcome to my random horde of cool fanart and other stuff I find neat! I'm Impulse, (or whatever other names I have on my list,) aroace agender gremlin, and my pronouns page is https://en.pronouns.page/@Feral_Gremlin !

✧ tag system ✧

#the gremlin answers - answers to asks!

#random shit - exactly what it says on the tin; various random shit that falls out of my mind and winds up here somehow.

#gremlin psa - stuff I think is important, helpful, or a good message to spread!

#lookit this persons art!! - cool art reblogs!! Because I like giving validation and compliments to whatever random artists I think are neat.

#sentimomentos - wholesome or poetic posts that hold a special bit of sentiment to them! (yes, it's a play on a spanish word for sentiment. no, I do not speak spanish. It started because I thought "oh, that's a great play on the word sentiment!" then looked it up and found out it was an actual word in a different language. so I changed it to be different enough and never spoke of it again. can you tell I'm not the most observant gremlin.)

#my silly lil guys - stuff related to my ocs or about them!

#pinned posts - stuff i have pinned or wish to pin, but tumblr says I can only have one :< so they go in this tag instead

#fucked up shit - things that are actively bad news or disturbing things (e.g. fucked up world news), but things that I do not wish to go unnoticed. If you're sensitive to stuff like this, please either block this tag or just move on with your day. Give it a signal boost if you can, but if you absolutely cannot for your own mental well being, I'm not here to cause more suffering. Just to spread awareness about already messed up stuff that deserves more eyes on it.

✧ other blogs ✧

My writing/art blog: https://www.tumblr.com/the-horde-archive

✧ DNI ✧

sexists

racists

aphobes

transphobes/terfs

homophobes

Literally any kind of bigot. Get out, or get blocked. I will not welcome that kind of attitude here.

MAPs/p*dos

Most NSFW/18+ blogs (Nothing against it, ofc, I'm just not super into that kind of stuff and would prefer not to see it popping up on my dash thank youuu)

candy corn haters (/SILLY)

that should be about it! Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a lovely lovely day :]

[virginburial]

.·:*¨༺    sextape.      ♱   bucky barnes ༻¨*:·.

SUMMARY: in which you bother your upstairs neighbor or alternatively, in which you, a cam girl, try to do your job and accidentally wake up your neighbor

SHIP: fem reader!bucky barnes, FATWS bucky barnes WARNINGS: explicit content, mentions of sex work, mentions of daddy issues, explicit language, random story-telling/plot

WORD COUNT: 4.8K SONG: https://open.spotify.com/track/4rEGJ9KirDlKiOHxqVwcVg?si=a3c34ab37c7749d0

A/N: hi everyone! Buffy here, this is my first oneshot on here that will be posted on ao3 and wattpad later in the week. i know this concept is kind of unrealistic but it’s also the best idea i had for bucky bc i’m writing him for clout, it was hard to think of anything else. i apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes. forgot to mention that i’m super adhd and get my letters and grammar confused. not even accidentally dropping 144 bucks on Grammarly can save me :,)) REBLOGS, NOTES, AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED !!

                                                     .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

"Alright! should we go with option one or two?"

You weren't always the outgoing type, and when you were, you were most likely in your element; but nothing could compare to how very much 'in the zone' webcamming made you. Things have been different since you were able to move on out of your childhood home; your lack of world experience hit you hard. of course, the blip added to the economic stress of it all, but you were so sure that when everyone came back, everything would be normal again, right? Something had to give. Next thing you know, you got fired from your barista job because of the workplace blip act - basically ensuring that the blipped got their jobs back. Their livelihoods. As if you haven't been scraping for your own since they all dissipated to nothing. Whatever, you were over it now. Or you presumed you were. It used to be so easy to find a job, but webcamming wasn't your final option; there was always working for the city's sewer system - yeah, fuck that.

Besides, as complicit-in-your-own-oppression being a woman may seem, the false illusion of having control over your body felt somewhat empowering. You never were big on your sexuality until you discovered webcamming, and it gave you the confidence to treasure the wonders of the sex world - sex work wasn't fun for everyone, but you were happy it was fun for you. Consider yourself privileged. It went from being scared to taking off your shirt, to randomly buying fun wigs and toys to wear and mess around with during your shows. Rent would be on the back burner as corsets and vibrators started to rack up a bill with your bank. It didn't matter, though, men were throwing money at you, and it all comes back; a complete cycle.

Sure, there were the downsides, like dealing with someone who lacked respect or was just indecent, but that was the magic of the internet or at least chaturbate.com. All you had to do was block them. You were laying it all out there, and there was nothing they could do or say to make you feel any more naked. It did hurt still. And it does ruin the overarching mood of the so-called performance-please don’t try to do that thing where you settle for webcamming over an acting career ... it's just sad. Like broadway, hecklers get ushered out, and the show always continues. Then it goes all over the place. Either way, it happens.

Nonetheless, you were still you, just with a new hobby. It's no different than being a writer or a painter, someone who got a hold of art the way they want to see it. The point is, you were still you, but you were finally home in your skin, and at the end of it all, the digital footprint will become privatized by law, so we can't snoop in on what Mark Zuckerberg or Grimes is doing. Everything matters, and it doesn't, so you go with toy number two despite the comments telling you to use toy number one. You were a tease like that, and you loved making those paypigs wait until frustration because of the payout. It was just a basic vibrator with the craziest settings imaginable. You tested it out before the show, and it already made you weak enough not even to consider it. But you did because you learned the fun way not to judge a book by its cover.

The cam girls get to have personalized websites for their business, and you took it upon yourself to make the website so very much yourself. You didn't have to pretend with your audience. think of it like MySpace. You even had a bit of having scene aesthetic to your site, but it was all centered around you. You, you, you, what would your audience ever do without you?

You slowly set the vibrator on high, the words are in Japanese, and you managed to memorize some of the characters to know what it means, spreading your legs open to reveal skimpy pink laced panties that complimented your skin color. There was already a puddle forming on the base of your panties from earlier and then throughout the day. Mainly because you and your neighbor were chatting up about the new upstairs neighbor. The man seemed disheveled and gloomy, almost like a lost puppy, and you had a thing for strays. You wouldn't say it out loud today because everyone is so political, but you liked the idea of fixing someone. You were probably projecting and wished someone would correct you, but putting all that energy into someone becoming better, helping them, that interested you. Cry for help, probably? Not like anyone could hear over the excessive amount of moaning you were doing. Either way, he looked sad; you liked sad, repressed trauma aside, you thought he was handsome. Then you let the thought of him simmer down in your mind, which was a mistake on your part, leading down to you concluding that your attractiveness towards older men was either your father's or Lana del Rey's fault. Somehow.

You began fidgeting at the sensations rolling through your body as you tried to keep your thighs from squeezing shut, but it was hard; then the sound of coin slot machines started rolling from the computer. You felt like Schrodinger's dog, the sound triggering you to shut your legs, taking deep breaths as a slight giggle left your mouth. Blood ran to your cheeks like a marathon, causing the chat to compliment how cute you looked when flustered. You peaked at your panties to notice how the puddle suddenly grew into an ocean, flopping back to your bed and turning on the vibrator again. You thought it would be funny if you teased your audience again, flipping the setting up and placing it on the base of your areola as you stared into the camera. Glittery makeup and lipstick smudged as your blonde wig threatened to fly off. You let it slowly trail down your stomach - the vibrations from your abdomen were already setting you off - steadily going down south until you heard three loud knocks on your door.

"Shit!" You whisper under your breath as the chat freaks out with you. You look at the chat and try to remain calm; this usually never happens. One; because your neighbors don't care, and two, you're never that loud. you weakly smile. "I'm going to put the show on hold, i'll be right back, Lovelies." you kiss the camera, saying it all with a defeated tone as you quickly pause the show. You grab the pink cheetah robe you've had since you were fifteen - back when you had a bit of a princess aesthetic - and ran to the door, struggling to put it on as you made sure you covered just about everything. damnit, son of a bitch cunt whore slut, the colorful words started to pile up in your mind as you reached for the front door. you have got to be fucking kidding me

in all his exhausted glory; there he is, the mysterious upstairs neighbor

he looks timid, almost like he didn't want to bother you. meanwhile, all the blood from your cheeks went directly back to your cunt. "hello, um..." he sighs softly. "I haven't really set up my bed yet; I kind of just have this mattress that's on the floor." the look in his eyes screamed 'why did I bring that up??' as you tug on your robe. "so I can hear everything, and I haven't been able to get some sleep." you heard him just fine, but you were to busy to notice what he was wearing; grey sweatpants and a black tank top; yes, he was packing. The thing that caught you the most off guard besides his sweet-raspy voice was his metal arm. You grew up in a small town with a vast military population, so you knew and had family and were friends with people who had prosthetics. His, however, was strange. The metal was much more refined, it looked very, very, very expensive. You might just be assuming, but why does a man with such a costly arm live in the dump you live in? just a thought as you avert your gaze back to him. "I'm so sorry, i'll be sure to keep the noise down... i-i don't have any guests, it's just ... me." why the fuck would you say that?! you scold yourself as the man cracks a small smile and looks down at your robe. "cool...?" he says in the same tone.

you start to fumble. "I-I'm sorry I-I dunno why I said that sometimes my mouth is faster than my brain-especially in situations like this." you ramble a bit. Make. This. Less. Awkward. I'm. Begging. You. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

The man still has the small smile he had from your confession. He seemed rather amused at how quickly you shattered in his presence. you couldn't tell if it was attractive or unbelievable how someone could look like a nirvana song. "Bucky." he introduces himself, and suddenly, the mystery is solved; his name is Bucky. he then points to the wig struggling to stay on your head. "I'm guessing you're ... cosplaying is the word, right?" he takes a pause. "cosplaying Hannah Montana-" "-oh no no no." you take off the wig, revealing your loose and messy bun/braids, a few pieces of your hair falling to your face as you, in sitcom fashion, throw the wig to the side. "I'm... I'm an actress," you say confidently. You two just kind of stand there looking at each other before your maternal instincts kick in, it's midnight, and he looks tired. You bite your lip hesitantly. "come in, I can make you some tea. It's the least I can do for waking you up." you open the door a little for him, not giving him a chance to reject you as you reveal how snug and perfect the robe fit around all your curves. he noticed that. And just like that, he strolls into your home.

You go to the kitchen, your thighs rubbing with every step - just reminding you that you were still on the clock and that you were still very, very, very desperate for some touch. You just had to make Bucky some tea now, did you? You grab the sleepytime tea box that sat elegantly on your microwave and fill the mug with the words; "maybe swearing will help" printed with water. Making tea was damn near ritualistic. You can't help but feel Bucky's presence, though. Lurking in the shadows and looking at all the fun knick-knacks you collected. You turn to him. "so, you from New York?" you ask.

he nods. "Brooklyn born and raised. I just came back from living in Wakanda for some time. Also spent a little time here and there..." no actual specifics besides Wakanda and Brooklyn. "you from Brooklyn?" he asked, but you shook your head. "small-town girl, I'm from the south. I moved up here during the blip." you explained. Bucky nodded. "to become an actress? Like on broadway?" he asks.

He remembered your white lie. How sweet. You squeeze your thighs a little and gulp. "n-no." you laugh a little. "I came here to get away from losing my brother in the blip and start school. I'm studying biochemical engineering. I wanted to study theatre and the arts, but my dad told me that it was a waste of a college education and that he wouldn't pay if I went and did theatre. but now that my brother is back, he can focus on ruining his life instead of mine..." you ramble a bit before seeing the look on Bucky's face. he was intrigued at the little spice you were able to throw in the conversation. you bite your lip. "sorry, I shouldn't be trauma dumping on you like that...dad's, yknow?" he nods in agreement. "but i've always wanted to be an actress-"

"so, you're not an actress? you're a biochemical engineer student?"

You feel a pang of guilt for lying, but you realize now that you should probably tell him, considering that he's your neighbor, and warn him about the cons of your newfound profession, such as the noise and noise complaints. you scrunch your nose and tilt your head to the side. "I am, but not in the traditional sense ... I'm a porn actress, webcam, actually. I started a couple of months ago after losing my job after the blip." you keep it short and sweet, turning over to the microwave to fetch him his tea before turning back around, you didn't want to see his reaction, but you did, and he looked relatively unfazed. Most men scream and run in the other direction, weak, but Bucky... doesn't care. You decide to change the topic. "what about you? why are you here?"

"...I was in the Army, just came back to get my life back on track, have to do court-mandated therapy now. I should hate it, but a small part of me is glad I'm going." court-mandated therapy? no wonder he's unfazed by a cam girl. "I'm sorry, I know what pornography is, but you said you did webcamming? what...is that?"

you narrow your eyes at him. "you...don't know what caming is?"

He shakes his head. "nope. I'm old-fashioned, don't even have those fancy smartphones." he says as he pulls out a Nokia. "holy shit." you say as he beholds the ancient relic. this was going to be good. Suddenly, you felt your clit throb as he glanced at your robe; you couldn't help but want to show him. You suddenly remembered all the thoughts you left on the back burner about him, simmering down until it boiled and exploded. You were at your boiling point,.your cheeks turned red as you pulled out your phone, going to your site as he keeps staring at you. he could tell, he could tell that you were holding out; considering that you were standing right in front of him and you had your legs crossed. You didn't want to show him your old shows, but at the same time, you didn't want to show him anyone else. If he was going to watch, it had to be you somehow. You pressed on your most recent one from two days ago, skipping ahead before showing off yourself in a sexy nurse costume. You pull the phone away before he gets to peek, though. "you sure you want to see this?" you asked for his consent.

bucky nervously laughs, his smile suddenly getting cheeky as he rubs his chin. "I mean, Y/N, you're showing me pornography-not like I haven't seen it before." his smile slowly turns to a smirk. He was so shy at first, maybe you said too much, overspilled, but no, that wasn't the case. he wasn't getting comfortable with you. He was somewhat charming you. or at least, appeared that way. "cmon, you can show me." he smirks softly at you.

Fuck. Me.

Without hesitation, you show him. You could see his pupils dilate right away, his cheeks getting a little pink as Bucky... studies you. He's not engaging in the content, just analyzing it like an accountant. He holds the phone and observes as you start to feel hot, skin sizzling-almost like a hot flash of some kind-as his eyes follow your every move. he glances over at you. "arent your other neighbors concerned about how loud you are?" he asks almost mockingly, teasingly, but he was serious. You shake your head as your moans echo throughout your apartment. "my neighbor on the left is my best friend from middle school, who told me I should look into this. The neighbor on the right is Miss Chen. She's hard of hearing; I told her I had a cat. and the neighbor across the hall, Amelia, is a flight attendant. Lucky, right?" you try to pause the video, but Bucky is mesmerized by your movements. "so all you do is...sit in front of a camera naked? And people just give you money? And it's live? How...innovative." he said like it piqued his interest. you began to laugh nervously as you finally managed to pause it. he could see it, how visibly nervous you got around him. he furrowed his eyebrows. "why so shy? You weren't earlier." his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

You decide to play his game. "first of all, it's not just sitting in front of a camera and looking pretty. Second of all...whatever happened to being old-fashioned? aren’t you going to buy me dinner first before you look at me that way?"

Bucky looks down a bit bashfully, handing you back the phone as you start to question his motives. "is the real reason you came down here was to quiet me down? or something else?" you ask. You had to have asked. You were okay with whatever answer, though. He's hesitating, though, Bucky glances back at you. "well, it's hard for me to sleep regardless, thought I'd be more tired if I came down here then go back up, but I'm wide awake...why? Were you hoping I came down here because you were moaning like that?" he asked. The conversation was starting to cross the rhetorical-question-turned-confession territory. A small part of you wanted to say yes; ever since he moved in last week, you'd cross paths with him, and he'd stay on your mind. But hooking up with your upstairs neighbor? Webcamming was one thing; being with someone, after how lonely the blip was, was another thing. but something about Bucky made your stomach turn into Simone Biles; flips and tricks and jumping through hoops at the mention of or the glances from Bucky. "...moan like what?" you raised an eyebrow, smirking.

Bucky seems hesitant, maybe he didn't want the conversation to continue, but it wasn't until he was staring at the space between your chest did it hit you that maybe he was too shy to make a move. Yet, he looked so eager, something was holding him back. You realized you weren't the only nervous person here. But you had to try, and you had to try to get him. You lean in a little closer. "cmon Bucky, why so shy? You weren't earlier." you mocked him, playfully teasing him as you slowly grabbed his hand. "may I?" you asked him. It only felt right. he nodded his head and watched as you guided his hand down to your core, his calloused fingers running against your inner thigh as you slowly humped on his hand, rubbing your clothed cunt on his rough palms as a soft moan left your lips. he looked at you in awe, almost like he couldn't believe you were real. You keep a steady pace as you hold onto his shoulders, smiling a little at him because his reaction was priceless. "did it sound like that?" you innocently asked as lust glazed over your eyes.

He lets out a shaky breath. "oh .. fuck..." he said in a throaty tone.

You watched him crumble as he grabbed you and smashed your lips against his, teeth hitting teeth as you eagerly kissed him back, his hand staying still on your cunt as its presence set you off. The first thing Bucky does is undo the loose knot on your robe; it's almost like that's what he wanted to do the moment you answered the door. He reveals your breasts, his sweet kisses never breaking from the fact that you were naked besides your wet panties. Your jaw starts to buckle and hurt as your bottom lip turns red from the friction. Bucky pulls away, practically panting as he delicately brushes your hair behind your ear. You can't help but notice that Bucky was still a gentleman in all the tension. Even if you wanted him to pound you. You could tell this was a little unorthodox for him; maybe he truly was old-fashioned, but also very touch starved. You pull him closer by the waistband of his sweatpants, your hand slowly wandering down to his expanding tip as your index and thumb rub it. You could physically see Bucky relax into your touch as he latches on to your neck; soft kisses on your neck before going completely animalistic on your chest.

You let out a soft whine before grabbing his face and passionately kissing him, your thighs squeezing around his hand. You pull away from him, both of you panting as you hold his warm hand, noticing a thin coat of your wetness before dragging him into your room. A piece of you wanted him to bend you over the counter, but you voted against it. that's when Bucky's eyes landed on the computer. "...is it live-?" he asks. You shake your head; webcamming was your thing; it didn't mean it had to be Bucky’s. But Bucky surprises you. for a man who ‘didn't know’ how to use a laptop; he sure worked his way around it. You - laying in your bed and squeezing your thighs, raise an eyebrow and laugh. "what are you doing?" you giggled.

"hitting two birds with one stone."

He quickly finds the GO LIVE button and moves away from the frame, leaving you front and center, watching the views roll in from your loyal fans as Bucky grabs you by your chin and kisses you lustfully. You could feel your skin cry for him as your knees got weak; the kiss was out of the frame, Bucky made sure of it because, god, it would be embarrassing if anyone there recognized him. It wasn't long before you flopped down on the bed and spread your legs for him like magic. You didn't know if it was because he looked like a movie star during the golden age of Hollywood or because of how mysterious he was, but Bucky made you weak. So weak that you didn't care if this was the first and last time he would touch you. You feel his rough fingertips slowly slide off the panties you've soaked, seeing your hole overfilled with your wetness. Bucky slides his warm hand in between your folds, causing you to jerk your hips slightly, trying to keep them down as your chest starts to rise.

Bucky lets out a dry chuckle. "you're sensitive, how...cute." he mocks you.

The disgusting thing about it is that you liked how he mocked you, watching you squirm as he spits down on your clit, saliva hanging from his lips as he leans down and slips his tongue in your mouth. You open your jaw a little more so he could explore your mouth, watching him pull away before feeling the freezing metal from his other arm hit your clit at full force. At this point, that's where your heartbeat was, and the cool metal was making it worse. You gasp and let out a quiet moan as you look into Bucky's eyes; he knew that would get you. watching as you shut your thighs around his arm, he roughly pries them open. "I don't think so." he damn-near growls at you. a chill ran up your spine before feeling two cold fingers slam into your hole, your walls closing in on his index and middle finger as he holds it there. What a fucking tease. your clit was begging for attention as he looked down at you. "not so talkative now, huh?"

You arch your back, practically offering him your body as your eyes beg him to move his fingers, but he doesn't. he keeps them there to remind you of how helpless you indeed were. Not like you didn't know; you were vulnerable for him for a whole week. He slowly moves his fingers out of you, carefully rubbing them on your bottom lip before you eventually obliged and sucked them dry. The sound of coin slot machines echoed in the room as you shakily closed your legs, squeezing them shut before feeling your chest heave - you were already orgasming? To be fair, you have been teasing yourself for a good hour before Bucky waltzed in. a deep moan left your mouth as your thighs shook and coated themselves in your cum. Your back was getting sweaty as your cheeks turned bright pink. Bucky watched as your body compulsed. You could tell he loved the show but was disappointed that it wasn't him making you shake like that.

Bucky watched as your body tried to maintain itself, finally calming down after your rolling orgasm as the sound of coin slot machines went crazy. You weren't letting yourself catch a break as you felt your clit throb for more. That's when you felt Bucky move—dragging you off to the edge of the bed and sitting down. Having you lay across his lap. You've seen and read enough porn to know exactly what was going on and obliged happily. You watched him slowly take off his tank top before making it into a ball and stuffing it in your mouth; a makeshift gag, if you will. Your right-hand touched his chest and feels him up as he keeps you in a comfortable position. Now, you couldn't think about the timid and traditional man that came knocking so he could get some sleep; your mind bombarded with thoughts of the eager and somewhat perverted sweetheart that was helping you relieve yourself after pulling you away.

His hand hits your ass hard, and you gasp and whine in pain, feeling your body tense up as he smacks it again. The noises from the laptop ringing again made you want to follow through on your habit, so bucky spreads your legs and then spanks you, hitting your ass and cunt with full force. Moans with hints of pain muffled through your gag. he seems amused, seeing your clit turn red and raw from the amount of spanking he did; you shake and quiver every time he spanks you and misses; which is often. By then, you were already horny again. Bucky stuffs three fingers in you unexpectedly, causing you to let out a loud moan. His warm hand goes to your mouth, covering it and shoving the gag deeper into your mouth, causing the fabric to tickle your throat and gag reflexes. Tears come to your eyes as Bucky decides to tease you by leaving them in there. again.

You feel the walls close in on his fingers and ache for them to move, so when he finally does drive them, you feel a wave of euphoria hit you. He curled his fingers as the metal slid in and out of you, causing you to spill out in moans. You were almost glad he improvised a gag because it would be embarrassing if your neighbor, Miss Chen, realized you didn't have a cat. Your heartbeat begins to steady itself, something you were grateful for before Bucky places his cold thumb on your clit and rubbed you like he was playing a scratch-off lottery ticket. It felt like a dam broke between your thighs as you wiggled and tried not to give in so quickly. But you couldn't help it. He was overstimulating you to the extreme.

Your thighs begin to shake as a tear or two rolls down your cheek from how overwhelming it felt, but you couldn't imagine yourself being anywhere besides his lap. Feeling him spread you out and spank you as you wiggle more and more for his touch, even if your clit was starting to swell up. Bucky was too preoccupied with you that he probably didn't notice how hard he was getting; your right-hand slides over to his clothed cock as you gently squeeze it, hearing a soft but deep groan as Bucky leaves another red and purple mark on your ass. "take my fingers first, then we'll see." he raspily tells you, but you knew you weren't going to last long. You longed to have him inside of you.

And he knows.

he knows you won't last that long either, maybe he's alluding to round two? not that you had the energy to think coherent thoughts as a tsunami wave of pleasure hits you. heavy breaths as your chest rises and falls flat, as you creamed all over his hand, your cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson as his curled fingers hits the right spot one last time. if heaven was a place on earth, it was on this man's lap. you look at him, your eyes glossed over and your cheeks red as Bucky pulls out the balled up tank top out of your mouth. you pant and looked over to your laptop screen, seeing the money you made rack up more and more. speechless, you glimpsed at bucky before planting a sweet kiss on his lips, only for him to glance at you and say:

"guess I can finally sleep now."                                                    .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

[hansensgirl]

i’m in the water.

summary. | He’s in the wind, and you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.

warnings. | non/dubcon, smut, angst, protectiveness, kidnapping (implied), stockholm syndrome, obsessiveness, death/violence, dark themes, DDLG undertones, creampie kink, choking, piss kink (both pee), degradation, pet play undertones, p in v sex, Master kink, dacryphilia, crawling, slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, boot riding, orgasm denial, spitting, gagging, manhandling, praise, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 8.5k

pairings. | Dark!Winter Soldier x Naive!Reader.

a/n. | please heed the warnings! i hope you enjoy, and please don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. they’re both very hydrated! this takes place in the 90’s! thank you so much @asadmarveltrashbag and @mypoisonedvine for proof reading for me ilysm!!

From the day you were born, you always felt as though your legs are broken. Always needing crutches throughout your life to hold you up, always needing support. But you never really had these crutches, so you'd always drag your hands against the brick walls to support yourself. Vulnerable, breaking away at the edges, falling down. Nothing kind ever came, and it stays the same for a while.

So maybe that’s why you lean into his icy cold touch. So abrasive and yet so caring. His aspects are juxtaposed to each other, just like in those Magritte paintings your art teacher would show you. She was always a kind lady, but you don’t care enough about her to wonder where she is in life now. She was kind to you, though, so you hope that she isn’t suffering like you are.

Your goosebumps raise for the fifth time in this painfully slow hour.

“Are you cold, кролик?” he asks even though he knows the answer. You hum. You always do. Your voice doesn’t raise in an affirmation. It stays flat; he knows what that means. “Thinking again?” he gruffly presses, squeezes your bare arms. The thin, grey shirt with torn sleeves does nothing to protect your body. But why do you ask for protection against the man who has done everything for you?

“Why… Why do people believe that grey is a boring colour?” you ask him, looking around the dark cell that surrounds you. Soldat grunts, not knowing what to say. “I think it’s quite beautiful. All colours have different shades, yes, but there’s something about grey. Each shade comes with a different emotion. Don’t you think so?” you ask him, looking down to your lap.

A carrot toy sits there. It’s filled with cotton balls from the medical room, by his request. “Yes…” He bites the tip of his tongue, not sure what to say because the Soldat only has a few emotions and a few words. “Why can’t we get a different wall colour?” you question him, turning around to face the man.

“It’s not allowed,” he reminds you. You feel like you’re experiencing déjà-vu, but then again, the days have blurred together so well that you can’t tell if the tape is being put on rewind already. You have to assume that your celluloid scenes are fading away along with your sanity. It’s torn at the seams. Threads hanging that just need to be ripped or cut out.

“Beige would look lovely…” you point out solemnly. The Soldat doesn’t know what shade of beige you’re thinking of, but he believes it would be beautiful nonetheless. “I… have a mission,” he tells you after a while. You hum in that same monotonous tone again, so he squeezes your arm even tighter. “When, Master?” you curiously ask, only now taking in his words.

“Tonight. Approximately at twenty-one hours,” he informs you in that mechanic voice of his that you hate. It makes you feel more trapped and vulnerable, even though there’s quite literally a chip in the back of your neck. “How long?” you ask him softly, a frown already beginning to display itself on your face.

He doesn’t like it when you frown. He prefers the lines that your smile provides over the lines your frown forces. That innocent glint in your eyes shines a bit, flickering like a dull light on the verge of completely blowing. Though it’s not much, it’s still something. And when it goes away, his entire being is filled with darkness.

You’re the light of his life, the fire of his loins.

“Not sure. Extraction of information. Senators and mayors…” He begins to ramble, and you shake your head. “Sorry, кролик,” he apologizes as he notices how uncomfortable you’re starting to get. You hum again. He wonders if you were a bird in your past life, perhaps a hummingbird, to be more exact. Or maybe even a swan or a dove because you’re just as beautiful as they are, if not more.

“You know how to behave, right? Потому что ты мой хороший маленький кролик?” he asks, and you don’t understand the second question, but you understand the former. “I know, Master,” you breathe, an airy ending to your words. “You’ll be good, кролик?” he questions one more time, and you lazily nod. You’re tired. Your body moves at a drowsy pace, and you don’t like it.

You don’t want to sleep, though. Scared that if you shut your eyes for too long, the monsters will come back, and Soldat won’t be able to save you. He always saves you. You’re his damsel, constantly in distress, locked away in a gilded cage. But he tells you it’s not a gilded cage. It’s not a run-down cell built in the fifties. It’s your home, even though you haven’t known what home is like for a while.

“I’ll always be good for you, Master. Please don’t leave for long. I get lonely easily,” you express in small bits of sadness and distress. “I know, кролик, я знаю,” Soldat says as he hugs you closer. You tilt your head backwards and let it lull on his shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he promises, and you know it’s not true because he never fulfills it. “But my carrot can’t keep me company for all those hours… Please stay? Please?” you plead with tears welling in your eyes.

“Я могу составить ей хорошую компанию,” the soldier standing outside the cell mutters under his breath, earning a few snickers from his coworkers. I can keep her in good company, is what he said. And it’s truly unfortunate that the guards have forgotten that the Soldat — the Asset — has super-hearing. Their laughter dies down into sighs, and Winter’s chest begins to heave.

He puffs up like the big bad wolf he is, and he tosses you to the side like a rag doll. You watch him as he strides his way over to the guards. Each step carries the weight of the Winter Soldier, the one who’s ready to kill whoever is in his sight. Except for you. His bionic hand reaches through the metal bars that separate him from the outside world.

He wraps his fingers around the guard’s neck, and he squeezes his throat tightly. As Winter crushes the guard’s windpipe, you watch him behind slightly squinted eyelids. Tears blur your eyesight, and you remember that time when you were holding off the tears so well, you couldn't see the HYDRA van driving ahead of you.

Maybe if you could control your emotions a little better, you wouldn’t be here.

But then again, where would you be without the Soldat? Miserable, stuck in the worst parts of town without anyone. Having to drag your hands across those brick walls, again and again. Surviving on your own, teetering on the edge of death. Just like these men at the hands of the Soldat.

The crunching of bones and the screams of men are all blocked out for you. You focus on Soldat’s arm whirring in the most satisfying harmony you’ve heard in the past two years. Other than the orchestra you both have managed to make almost every day. But you still cup your hands over your ears.

Winter pulls a knife from the guard’s limp body. That very same knife ends up inside his heart, stopping it from pumping. The guards begin shooting at Winter, but he easily shields himself with the metal arm. It goes silent, but you keep your hands over your ears. Muffled talking steps in place of the silence, and you look up to see members of HYDRA staring at your Winter and you.

“Солдат, Что ты натворил?” One of the head agents asks. You believe his name is Vasily Karpov because that is what Winter has told you. “The… The guard said something about my кролик. He’s not supposed to,” Winter explains, looking to the ground. Karpov mutters a chain of curse words under his breath that you’re not too happy about. One of the other agents asks him to speak up, and he snaps.

“Just get him to the armoury! We need to prep him,” he shouts before stalking away from the scene. They all stick around a few more seconds before scurrying off like little mice. The dead bodies still lay on the floor, but nobody seems to really care. What’s happened has happened, and there’s no changing it.

“Привести с собой солдата!” A rough voice blasts through the intercoms, and suddenly, more guards show up at your cell. You curl up into a ball and rest your forehead against your knees. You can’t bear to watch them take him away. You wait until the cell door swings shut, and then men stomp away. But even then, you cannot look up.

Bring the Soldat.

He wears that mask of his. The last time you saw it, it was caked with dirt and blood. You can hear his hard breathing behind it, almost sounding as though he’s just run a marathon. He sits in the edge of the cot — the left corner, to be exact — and he watches you. The Soldat states as you look down at the array of snacks he’s provided you with.

“Kролик,” Winter gruffly calls, and you turn around. You hum and your voice raises at the end. You haven’t done that in a while, so it startles him a bit. “Which one?” he asks, stretching his neck out just a bit to see what snack you’ve chosen. “N… Not sure,” you shyly whisper, ducking your head down in fear.

“Green one,” he says after a while, and you place your hand on it. “I don’t know what it is?” you confusingly say. The Russian text on it confuses you, so you hand it to Winter. “ Sour Patch Kids…” Winter reads out loud, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion. “Oh, I like those!” you eagerly cheer, sitting up on your knees. You turn around and reach your hand out for him to give them to you.

They’ve wiped him. You know it, and you hate it. They’ve taken all emotion away from him, and now he’s just an empty shell of a man. His softness from just a few hours ago has now gone away, and you don’t know what to expect of himself. But then again, you never do.

Hesitatingly, he hands it over. “Don’t eat now. Sugar will keep you up,” he warns, and you nod. Your father would say the same thing when you were younger. The only difference is that your father had more love in his voice than Winter ever will. “We need to go over the rules,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You hum again, and he continues. “Do you remember your rules?” Winter asks, and you hum once more.

“Кролик,” he growls, and you look up. “Do you need me to repeat the rules?” Winter questions and you shake your head in objection. He doesn’t listen, though, because he knows you don’t remember them. You never seem to remember the big, important parts of the puzzle. Only the small corner pieces that don’t really matter. “I’ll tell you them anyway, and you’re going to listen to every word I say. Understood, кролик?” he raises his eyebrow, not leaving any room for protesting.

You gulp thickly and nod. “Don’t make any noises, don’t touch yourself, don’t talk to the guards, don’t let anyone touch you, don’t hurt yourself and don’t even think of escaping,” he lists, and the last one makes tears sting your eyes. “I won’t escape. ‘S not like I can even do anything in here,” you whisper under your breath, and he stands up. Metal fingers grip your chin tightly, and Winter slowly kneels down in front of you.

You’re watched like a pet. You always have been. Not even a pet, more like a possession. Seen as an object with no feelings and no emotions. As though you don’t have a heart that pumps crimson blood and lungs that expand with each breath you take. “Don’t ever speak like that again. I can easily stitch those pretty lips of yours shut, кролик,” he threatens, and you feel your tears beginning to leak.

No, no, no, no, no. Not now.

He laughs. He fucking laughs, and you want to cry even more because you need him. You need your support, but he doesn’t want to give it to you. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. “You’re so fucking… precious. Especially when you shed those tears of yours,” he tells you with a hidden smile behind his mask. He squeezes your jaw even tighter, and you whimper out a small ‘thank you, Master’ to him.

“I wasn’t finished listing the rules, so keep your fly shut,” Winter sneers, and you nod your head slowly. “When I get back, which will be in around three hours, you have to finish drinking all those bottles of water,” he stays, snapping his fingers to grab your attention. Your eyes follow those very same fingers as they point at the four bottles of water sitting by the bed.

You never noticed them until just now. “Oh, and you can’t go to the bathroom until I say so,” he adds with a slight humorous chuckle to his voice. Your eyeballs nearly fall out of their sockets. “Don’t worry, кролик, I’ll be back so quickly, it’ll feel like a few minutes,” he promises, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. It reminds you of when you were young, and your parents would take you to the beach.

Your parents would build sandcastles with you until they got tired. You would beg your father to piggyback you into the sea, and he would do exactly that. Your mother would carry her disposable camera with her just to take photos that would end up in the green photo album from the thrift store.

And when you got a bit older, you’d go by yourself—older in the sense that you have to start paying the bus fare of $3. You’d head to the beach after dinner and before your parents came home from work. The sky would either be a dark, dark grey or a lovely mix of pastels. The water would wash beneath your feet, pulling and loosening clumps of sand.

Taking it away the same manner Winter took your innocence.

“And remember, if you break any of these rules, I’ll know. And the outcome won’t be as pretty as your face or that pussy of yours, кролик,” Soldat warns, and you nod your head. “Yes, Master,” you shyly say to him. You want to look down at the concrete flooring so badly, but his iron-clad grip on you doesn’t loosen until a minute after your words. He looks down at you, and you look away. His strong gaze is just as powerful as the summer sun that would beat down on your skin.

“Прощай, кролик.”

You never realized how thirsty you were until just now. You’ve finished all four bottles in the span of two hours, and now you’re counting down the minutes until Soldat arrives. There are no guards standing outside your cell, so you’re all alone. Not even your intrusive thoughts have visited, and you wonder if the water was spiked.

You were never that good at telling time. It would always take you a few seconds to find the minute hand and the hour hand. But the digital clock that is on the wall across from your cell is quite helpful. It even has seconds on it, too. So you count down out loud, trying to ignore the full feeling in your stomach.

Stomping echoes down the hallways, and you don’t know if he’s close by or meters away from you. You never could tell. Russian words fall off the agents’ tongues, and sometimes you wish you could understand them. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel like such an outsider even though you’re trapped in their home. “Ты свободен, солдат,” one of the agents say, and you can hear Winter grunt.

You’re free to go, Soldat.

His big, heavy feet stomp down the hallway. The sounds bounce off the greyish-green walls, stained with different things such as blood and dirt. You can hear his metal arm whirring, and your heart jumps with fear. You’re not scared of him; you’re scared of what he’s capable of.

Oh, who are you kidding? You’re terrified of him.

The guards open up the cell door, and you look up, locking eyes with his. They’re dark and empty as they usually are. “Кролик,” he growls, and you whimper. You run up to him and hug him, feeling the water slosh inside of you. You slow your breathing down the same way your elementary school nurse told you to when you were younger and try your hardest not to throw up.

“Missed me, hm?” Winter questions and you nod meekly. Though you didn’t want to admit it two years ago, you do now. “Missed you lots, Master,” you tell him. The leather is cold against your warm skin. If you focus just a bit more, you could feel the creases of the fabric as well. But you’re too busy with him, so you ignore it. “W- Was the mission good, Master?” you nervously ask him, only out of curiosity and nothing more.

“As always. Were you good, кролик?” Soldat questions in return, rightfully so. You nod eagerly and fiddle with your fingers behind his back. He acts like he can’t feel it, just for you not to stop hugging him. “Good girl… You seem like you want something. Out with it,” he orders, and you gulp in fear.

“I… I was wondering if I could go to the bathroom,” you meekly tell Winter, looking down to the ground. His boots are shiny and polished. Cleaner than anything you’ve seen before, and it’s confusing. He usually comes in covered with dirt, sweat, tears and blood. “You need to go to the bathroom, кролик?” he asks as if he didn’t hear you beforehand.

You shyly nod and unwrap your arms from around his broad torso. You wonder if he left the mission unscathed or not. Winter chuckles. It’s breathy, airy, sly and dark. “Aw, кролик, you’re adorable, the cutest кролик of them all. It’s too bad I’m not going to let you,” he sneers in that faux fantasy tone of his. You furrow your eyebrows and so desperately want to beg him, but it’s out of line, and he never asked, so you stay quiet.

Winter grabs your hand and drags you to the cot, reminding you of the way you’d pull your parents to the shore so they can play in the water with you. They’d both laugh before your father would tackle you in the water, and your mother would push him down in retaliation. You’d always resubmerge from the water with a smile on your face and laughter bellowing throughout the beach.

You miss those times.

You let him guide you to the bed you wish wasn’t yours. “What did you do while I was gone, кролик?” Soldat questions, sitting down on the canvas of the bed. You’re placed on his lap, almost as though he’s forcing you to reclaim a throne you need. And it’s true; you need him. His hands fall to your waist, and Winter holds you in place. “I drank all the water as you asked, and I just sat here, Master,” you recount to him, leaving out the parts of the past three hours he doesn’t need to know.

He hums in the same manner as you. “That’s all?” he questions, and you slowly nod your head. “Good, I’d hate to have to punish you this late in the night,” he says, pinching the skin on your torso. You don’t whimper because you’re used to it. He calls it affection, and so do you. Winter’s hands move from your sides to the front of your stomach, caressing you with a bit of pressure being put on your bladder.

You whimper and try to play it off with a cough, but you know deep down he doesn’t buy it. Soldat continues to run his hand against your stomach the same way you’d run across the shore. Slow, wary, yet with care from the ground beneath you. You like to think of the simpler, more happier times. You know if Winter pushes a little harder, you may not be able to control yourself any longer.

The pressure in your bladder grows every few seconds, so you squirm around in his lap. Your weight shifts from his left thigh to his right thigh, over and over, and he knows exactly what’s wrong. “Кролик… Are you feeling all tingly?” he asks you. You nod your head, but you take in his words. Meanings and implications are always lost with you. They fly over your head the same way birds do, and you only see them with someone's direction.

“N- No, Master, I just have to pee really badly…” you clarify to him, and he nods his head in understanding. You smile as a spark of hope lights inside of your heart. “I don’t think you do, кролик, I already told you,” he assures, and you sigh. “I- I know, Master, I’m sorry,” you apologize and drop your head down. “I think you’re having those tingles, кролик, is your little cunt wet?” Soldat questions even though you don’t have to answer.

His hand travels between your legs and to your pussy, cupping it tightly. You whimper and involuntarily grind against his hand. “You’re absolutely soaked, кролик! Were you thinking of me?” he interrogates, and you just go with it. “Y- Yes, Master, was thinking of you all the time,” you whisper to him. He squeezes your cunt tighter and purrs in your ear. “Then why didn’t you tell me beforehand, кролик?” Winter presses, and you feel fear pump through your veins.

“I- I knew you were tired from the mission, so I didn’t want to bother you, Master. I’m sorry, please forgive me!” you plead, and he clicks his tongue in disapproval. Your heart sinks to your stomach with each sound he makes, and you want death to take you right here, right now. The Soldat pushes you to the ground, and you fall with a loud ‘thud!’. Your knees hit the concrete hard, and you can feel your old scars open up a bit.

One was from a poor fall at the beach. Your father carried you home, and your mother tried to soothe you. You were only six at the time, but it felt like your world was ending.

Winter’s metal hand grabs your hair and tugs on your locks painfully. You bite back a pained moan as he yanks your head back. It’s not the first time he has nearly given you whiplash. He changes moods faster than anyone you’ve ever met. The Soldat walks around you, and you follow him with your eyes. “It’s okay, кролик. I’m not mad at you. I’m gonna treat you so well; you’re gonna love me even more,” he promises with a dark glint in his eyes.

He wedges his boot between your legs and underneath your cunt. “Get comfy, шлюха,” he orders. You shift yourself a bit, trying to alleviate any aches you feel, but it seems as though he wants you to be uncomfortable. Your pussy rests on his foot, and you wonder what he’s up to. His hand tilts your head to look up at him. You want to look away, just like when you’d look at the bright sun on a hot summer day. It was always too much to look at, but the sight was so captivating you couldn’t turn away.

“You said you wanted to go pee, right, маленькая потаскушка?” he questions, and you confusingly nod. “Then go ahead, do it,” he orders. You gasp, quite loudly, in fact. The reaction doesn’t please your Master, so he yanks on your hair a little tighter. “What’s wrong, сука? I thought that’s what you needed?” he interrogates, and you nod. “Yes, Master, but not like this,” you reason, and he growls. “I give you protection, I give you food, I give you my cum, I give you everything you need. What’s wrong now? Don’t you love me?” Winter asks.

Your heart quite literally breaks in two.

“I do, Master! I love you so much!” you promise, feeling those stupid tears of yours starting to well up. “Then why aren’t you listening to me, you dumb baby? Hm?” he presses, and panic begins to rise in your chest. The tears stream down your face the same way the waves would engulf you at the age of 7. “It’s just uncomfortable, Master, that’s all…” you reason with him. “Well, I don’t care. You’re gonna do it anyway, okay? I thought you were a good bunny for me…” Winter trails off as if he’s lost all hope and cause.

It makes you want to cry even harder.

Sniffling, you wipe your tears and try not to give up. “I am your good bunny, Master. Please don’t make me do this. I don’t want to!” you beg once again, and he grows weary of your patheticness. Winter bends down, and his flesh hand goes to the front of your flimsy shirt. Thin cotton rips away easily, with barely any strength coming from his behalf. The grey cloth is in two pieces, and he pushes them off your shoulders.

Your nipples harden as soon as the cool air brushes against them. Winter’s hand leaves your head, and you feel alone without his touch. “Seems like you forgot your place, кролик… You don’t get what you want; you get what you deserve. And what you deserve is to be put in your place,” he tells you, and your bones rattle with fear. The sound of a belt clinking and a zipping being pulled down grabs your attention, and you hold back a hearty sigh.

The Soldat stares you down as he throws his belt to the side just like he did you a few hours ago. “I can’t believe you, honestly. Думая, что ты так выше меня, пытаясь помешать мне делать то, что я хо��у. After this, you’re going to regret ever talking back to me like that ever again,” he rants under his breath like the mad man he is. Your tears have dried up, but your bottom lip starts to wobble again. He huffs, tired of seeing you cry.

Winter halts his movements and goes to remove his mask, the one thing that’s been hiding that sinister smirk of his. The dark, matte material is clutched between the tips of his cut-up, bruised fingers. He carefully places the mask on your face, covering your mouth and nose. The action shuts you up, just like how he wants. You look up at him without blinking your tears away. You let them fall and soak the mask, staining it with your waterworks.

The Soldat pulls his big, thick cock out of his tactical pants. His cock is as hard as a rock, blooding pumping down to it, and his veins throb on the side of his shaft. Beads of precum drip down from his tip, rolling down his cock. He’s a raging red, desperate to be inside of you. His metal head returns to your head, and he brings you higher up in your knees. Your neck cranes at such a painful angle that the ache in your knees is ignored.

“You better fucking look at me while I teach you your lesson, шлюха,” he warns, and you listen to him easily. Through your haze of pained tears, you manage to look into his eyes. You’re not sure what he wants to do and what he’s going to do. You never do. The Soldat is unpredictable, and even in your two years of knowing him, you’ll never understand how the gears in his mind turn.

“Not so dumb after all, huh,” he chuckles before shaking his head. Winter sighs and smiles down at you. “One last chance, шлюха,” he tells you in a sing-song voice. You don’t say anything, and the Soldat clicks his tongue. Suddenly, instead of the delicious precum, he would usually make you lap up like a kitten, clear streams of warmth hit your chest. You gasp behind the mask, but it comes out as muffled nonsense to him.

“Stop!” you cry out to him, but your words are once again muffled. His pee soaks your chest as he relieves himself from the pressure in his bladder. Your hands bat at his stiff thighs, hitting them just so that he can stop humiliating you and treating you like you’re all but human. Winter growls, and his metal arm drops your head, and he slaps your hands away. His pee covers your tits and drips down your skin, staining you with disgust and humiliation.

The streams soon stop, and you’re sobbing even louder now. “Oh shut it, this isn’t even as bad of a punishment. I’m going easy on you, шлюха, I could easily do worse,” Soldat growls as the slightly tinted liquid drips from the tip and onto the ground. Your chest stutters with sobs, and you can barely breathe. You’re covered and coated like a freshly bought canvas, and Winter’s just ruined you. Almost in the same manner that you’d destroy your father’s canvas with your cheap, dollar store paint.

Winter bends down and grabs what was once your shirt and is now just a piece of cloth. Kind of like how your mother would give you any leftover scraps of fabric to make something for you. She’d never let anything go to waste. He uses it to wipe the drops of urine that still drip from his cock, and then he throws it at you like you mean nothing to him. You let it fall to the ground because there’s no possible way a piece of cloth that was once on your back can fix your honour.

But who are you kidding? You lost your honour the moment you gave into the Soldat, just like you always do.

You stretch your arms out to him, silently pleading for comfort from him. But he shakes his head with a sly smile on his face. “Aw, you want your Master to help you out, мой питомец?” Winter questions, and you eagerly nod your head. His metal hand goes to remove the mask, but he stops as soon as he touches it. “Say please,” he orders with faux sympathy in his voice. “Please, Master,” you beg to him, and he smiles.

Winter places his hand back on the mask and yanks it off of your face. The sides scratch your cheeks a bit, but that’s not what matters. “T- Thank you, Master. I love you so much,” you tell him before struggling to put a smile on your face. At the end of the day, no matter how brutal he is with you, you’ll always love him. ...Right? “You’re welcome, кролик,” he says as he throws the mask to where his belt lies.

Your cheeks are sticky and stained with tears, much like your chest. Winter’s flesh hand cups your left cheeky lightly, and he’s back to being the gentleman who has killed for you on numerous occasions. He wipes away the wetness on your cheek as his other hand goes to his cock, grabbing the base of it. “Say ‘ah,’ моя маленькая шлюшка,” he orders before you can even register his signature Cheshire smirk.

His cock is shoved inside your mouth without any warning. He always does that. No heads up, no preparation, nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. Winter wiggles his foot that’s underneath your cunt, and the sudden friction is startling. He calls you bunny because of this reason. You can get off on anything, and you’re always needy for him. “I can see how wet you are, шлюха. You’re soaking my boot with that little pussy of yours,” he coos.

You don’t realize how wet you are until he points it out. You’re absolutely soaking, and you’re not sure why. But for the utmost incomprehensible reason ever, you don’t care.

His cock slides down your throat until your nose nuzzles against his pubic bone. His balls touch your chin, and your saliva coats his cock thickly. Your throat and side of your kissable mouth both hurt horribly, but you ignore the pain just for him. “You’re my good little bunny, right?” he questions, and you nod while his cock rests on your tongue. “And good little bunnies like you always listen to their Masters, right?” Winter asks, and you nod again.

He smiles. His hand on your cheeks moves to the back of your head slowly, returning to its newfound home. “I bet you want to come, don’t you, кролик?” he interrogates, and he’s not wrong. You really do want to come, and you’re a bit ashamed of it. “Master will let you come, don’t worry. I’m gonna let you have cummies, кролик,” he promises, and you happily giggle around his cock.

“Go on, hump my boot like the little bunny you are,” he pushes, and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. You want to protest so badly, but the memories of what he just did to you freshly flood your mind like the memories from when you were younger. “Are you that stupid that I have to explain how to get yourself off? Or are you just not listening to me, кролик?” he asks in a tone that reminds you of subdued thunder.

You shake your hand and try to move your hips around a bit. Your soaking wet pussy grinds against the leather of Winter’s shoe, and your clit throbs at the feeling. Winter’s cock slides out of your mouth until the fat tip of it is all that’s left, and then he quickly shoves it back in. Your loud gags and his moans fill the room like music. Your loss of oxygen makes you see stars, and you can recall how much your father loved to paint the midnight skies until he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

Your old toothbrushes would serve as the home of the clouds of dust that the stars would be born from. His fingers would be covered in white paint that would fall off in the water and swirl down the sink. His black t-shirts would have white freckles on them, and your mother would always suggest for him to turn the cloth into a galaxy. He’d always tell her one day, and you’d always remind him of that day whenever you’d catch him painting.

“Fuck, you always do look even prettier with my cock in your mouth, кролик,” he swears, and you smile around his cock. Oh, well, you at least try to smile. You continue to rub yourself against his boot as he uses your throat as he pleases. Your hole drools with want, and your slick gives his shoe a shine that is unmatched by any other substance. The burning, fiery feeling on your clit spreads to your abdomen, and you can feel yourself being brought closer to the edge.

You’re moaning around his thick cock, sending sinful vibrations throughout him. “Fuck, are you gonna come, кролик?” he questions as he feels you hug his leg. You nod around his cock, and he begins to push your head back and forth of his cock, matching your desperate movements. He uses you like a fleshlight, and you’re used to it. “Well, too fucking bad, шлюха, you’re not allowed to come,” he spits, and your hips freeze in place.

“I didn’t say stop, did I? No, I didn’t, continue, шлюха,” he sneers, and you listen to the Soldat. You’re not sure how you’re going to stave off your orgasm, but you’ll do anything for him. You slowly begin to grind your hips back and forth on his boot again, trying to slow your breathing down, and Winter fucks your face sloppily. “Fuck, you want my cum, don’t you, кролик?” he questions, and you squeeze his leg tighter.

Winter pulls his cock out abruptly and pinches the base, staving off his release only for a few seconds. “I said, don’t you want my cum, шлюха?” he asks once again, and you nod. Saliva coats your mouth, and you can barely catch your breath. “I- I really want your cum, Master, please! Please give me your cum,” you plead to him with a ditzy look in your eyes. You wiggle your hips side to side just to give off the impression that you’re getting yourself off.

But you can’t fool the fooler. Nobody can.

“I’m going to give you all my cum, шлюха, and you’re going to take it all like a good girl,” he moans as he shoves his cock back into your mouth. Winter shoves himself deep inside your throat until you can’t take any more of his length. You swallow around his cock, and he moans loudly, swearing in Russian. The words roll off his tongue skillfully, and you feel yourself getting even wetter.

He grabs your head even tighter and bobs your skull up and down his cock a few more times before finally hitting his release. His balls tighten up, and a deep, throaty moan leaves his mouth in the best way ever. Hot, sticky ropes spurt down your throat before you can even register the way he throws his head back. Winter’s long hair spills on the sides of his head as his cum spills down your throat. You have no choice but to swallow, but it’s not like you want to spit his seed out anyways.

Winter lets out a deep moan that goes straight to your core, and his hand pats your head in a praising manner. “Good girl, such a good fucking girl,” he praises as he slowly pulls his sensitive cock out of your mouth. Your cunt flutters with sensitivity, and you want to come so badly, but you just can’t. The Soldat takes a few steps back, slipping his foot away from your aching pussy. You let out a whimper, and he smiles.

“I’m not done with you, маленький кролик,” he tells you, and your heart flutters. You’ve managed to ignore the building pressure in your bladder, but now it seems to come back stronger. “C- Can I go pee first, Master?” you politely ask him, still on your knees. Even that ache has returned, but it’s the least important thing as of now. He ignores your question as he works on the numerous straps on his battle uniform.

Skillful fingers take off the leather vest he wears, revealing a bulletproof protectant that saves him from certain dangers. “Get on the bed, кролик,” Winter orders as he continues to strip himself. You begin to stand up on your wobbly, scarred legs, but he tuts. “Uh uh, not like that,” he interjects, walking back to you. He pushes you back onto the floor, and you fall with a sob. “On your knees, because that’s what you deserve. Nothing more, шлюха,” he sneers, and you sniffle.

You slowly crawl to the bed. Each time your knees touch the ground, you burn up with both arousal and humiliation. And it’s not like the action is making your need to go to the bathroom any better. The abrupt movement makes the liquid slosh inside you, and you want to burst out in tears, begging Winter to just let you relieve yourself. Your hands have slight scars from your nails, and it reminds you of when your father would encourage you to do the monkey bars.

You’d always try to swing yourself to the end with all your might. But you never could do it. You’d fall down to the ground and leave the park wailing. The scars and blisters on your hand would make your parents so upset, but that never stopped you from wanting to go back and try again. Eventually, you got too old to try, and it would always upset you. Maybe one day you’ll be able to try again— one day.

You hear zippers unzipping and velcro cracking behind you as you get on the bed. The coolness of the sheets is so refreshing against your hot skin. It soothes you for a few seconds, but it eventually loses its worth. You turn around and face him with a sort of dumbfounded look on your face. He fucking loves it; Winter always does. He’s naked, fully naked, and even his signature tactical boots have been discarded.

If you squint, you could see the way your wetness shines on his boot. “Good girl, such as good little bunny,” he praises, and you can feel yourself get flustered. Winter climbs onto the bed, staring you dead in the eyes. He kneels in front of you with a wicked smirk, and he brings his flesh hand up to your throat. You let out a gasp as he squeezes your neck tightly before he leans in closer to you.

The Soldat’s face is just a mere few centimetres away from yours. You can feel each breath that he takes against your skin. His hard cock rests against your sticky chest, and he’s still hard as fuck. “Open your mouth, кролик,” he orders, and you instantly do so. You wait for his cock to be stuffed in your mouth once again, but it never comes. You watch as he puckers his lips up before spitting right by your mouth.

You choke in surprise as his saliva slowly drips into your mouth, landing on your sore tongue. You whimper at the feeling, and Winter has a proud smile on his face. He pulls his head away from yours, in the same manner your father would whenever he’d finish one of his masterpieces. “Swallow it all, кролик, I know you want to,” he orders in a sing-song voice.

You follow his demand obediently. You can’t lie; the sheer act of him spitting in your mouth and forcing you to swallow it makes you even wetter. You’d take anything he gives you. “You’re such a good girl, you know that right?” he questions, and your chest heaves. Winter’s cock twitches against you, and you so desperately want him inside you. But there’s nothing you want more than to go relieve yourself.

His metal hand comes up to your face, and you think he’s going to lovingly hold you. You absolutely adore it when he strokes your cheeks. The Soldat’s thumb touches the soft yet slightly sweaty skin of your face and moves back and forth. Chills run down your spine, and you smile into his touch. He suddenly pulls his hand away, and he strikes you roughly. You let out a cry as your skin stings and prickles from the hit.

He does it again and again until your tears soak his hand. Your cheek is practically numb from the pain. You can feel his cock leaking with cum, and you know that he’s going to fuck you, just like you want him to. “Did you forget your manners?” Winter harshly questions, and you quickly shake your head. “T- Thank you, Master,” you whisper to him, and he smiles.

“Master… Can I please go to the bathroom? Please, it hurts,” you beg to him, but he just shakes his head. “P- Please, Master? I’ll be a good girl, I promise!” you plead to him as your tears run down your face even quicker. He ignores your cries for relief, and he instead slams you onto the bed. Your mind is a mess as he combs on top of you, and the aches you have only get stronger.

The hand that was slapping some sense into you finds a new home on your stomach, right above your swollen bladder. He pushes down on your stomach slightly, and you kick your legs. “Shh, none of that, no, stop it,” he shushes, and you try your hardest to not let go right there and then. “Master knows what you need, okay? And right now, you need my cock, маленький кролик,” he tells you, and you sob.

The hand on your throat moves to his cock, and he grabs his thick base. The veins on the side throb with need, and in one thrust, he bottoms out inside you. You barely have the time to register what’s just happened. The painful stretch of his cock radiates throughout your core, and you dig your nails into the scarred skin of your palms. His tip nudges against your g-spot, and you coat his cock with your wetness.

Winter is buried inside you to the hilt, filling you up to the brim. His swollen, heavy balls rest against your ass, and you both try to get used to the connection. The painful stretch dulls down to an exquisite pleasure, and Winter loves the way your tight cunt gets used to his thick cock. He’s splitting you in two, but he simply does not care. His hand returns back to your throat, and this time, he squeezes the sides of your neck even tighter.

Winter pulls his cock out until his fat tip is the only thing resting inside of your pussy. He slams back into you roughly, and you let out a cry. Your jaw falls slack as the Soldat begins to fuck into your relentlessly. His balls slap against your ass, and your loud, short-lived moans fill the cell that you’ve grown to love. “Fucking hell, кролик, your pussy feels so good,” he growls, slamming into you even harder.

Your tits bounce with every movement he makes. The pleasure sears through your body as Winter hammers against your poor g-spot with each thrust he makes. “Master, please, I need to go really badly,” you beg to him as he continues to fuck you. He shakes his head in objection before pushing down on your stomach even harder. You let out a wail and try to squirm away, but you only worsen things for yourself.

“No, you don’t, кролик. The only thing you need is my cock,” the Soldat tells you, and you upsettingly toss your head back. “No, Master, please, I don’t wanna make a mess,” you reason with him, but he just doesn't seem to want to listen. “I know that, кролик, but you need to listen to me, okay? You don’t need to go; you just need me,” he growls lowly, and you can feel him pushing harder on your bladder.

“No- Wait, Master, please stop pushing on me,” you implore to him as a moan follows your words. Your silky, wet cunt hugs his cock as the tingly feeling in your bladder becomes stronger. You want to cross your legs and stop it from growing, but you can’t. Pressure builds up in your core, and you’re not sure if you’re going to come or if you’re going to make a mess and humiliate yourself.

“Let go, мой тупой ребенок, I know you want to so badly. You can make a mess, do it,” Winter urges, and you shake your head. “No, Master, please stop it,” you cry to him, but he only fucks you harder. One specific thrust hits your cervix, and you yell out in pain before even realizing what’s happened. Warmth trickles down your thighs and onto his cock. You let out a wail as humiliation blossoms from your soul.

Though there’s nobody else watching, you’re still embarrassed. And that wicked smirk on Winter’s face does nothing to help you out. The sound of it makes your back sweat, and you want the ground to open up and take you home. Your urine wets the sheets beneath you, and your tears wet your face. “God, look at you. You finally got what you wanted, and here you are, crying like a fucking brat. You’re so ungrateful. Do you even deserve my cum?” he questions with disgust on his tongue.

You struggle to nod, but you do it anyway. The last thing you need is to have your Master upset with you. “‘M sorry, Master, please forgive me,” you plead to him. You continue to relieve yourself, and he continues to fuck you despite the mess you’re making in his shaft. “Такой грязный, глупый малыш. Ты такой жалкий, ты же знаешь это, да?” he questions even though you only know one simple word of Russian. You moan loudly as you slowly stop making a mess and begin to feel your orgasm building up.

“Aw, are you gonna come, кролик?” Winter asks you in a condescending tone, one that makes you even wetter. The lewd sounds that come from your pussy as just as humiliating as what you’ve just done, but you don’t care. You’re too busy getting fucked stupid. “Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this pussy up with my cum; watch it leak out of you. You always do look prettier when you’re filled up with my cum,” he moans as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“Master, ‘m gonna c- come,” you whimper to him, laying in your own piss. “Go ahead, шлюха, come on my cock. You already made a mess on me twice, might as well do it for the third time,” Winter growls, moving the hand that lays on your stomach. He grabs your hips roughly and pulls you closer towards his cock. Hot flames lick at your abdomen as you hit your climax, seeing stars in your vision.

Your reality is warped as you can barely make out the look on Winter’s face. Darkness takes over your vision in the same manner as the clouds would take over the skies on those hot summer days. They would hide the pretty sun for a few minutes, and then they’d leave eventually. Your pussy clamps down on his cock tightly as you coat him with your juices, making him moan.

You wail loudly as you clench around him, making him groan. “Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” he asks without waiting for an answer. You nod as he fucks you through your orgasm, not even caring about how overstimulated you are. His cock slips in and out of you with ease and his thrusts begin to grow sloppy. “Tell me how much you want my cum,” he demands, fucking you even slower.

“I- I want your cum really badly, Master. I need it so badly; please fill me up with your cum!” you politely beg to you as you come down from your much-needed high. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so nicely, кролик, you’re gonna beg me to fuck you again,” Winter husks as his balls tighten up. A string of Russian words leave his mouth, and you have to assume that it’s all foul language.

Warm, white ropes of cum paint your walls as he pushes deep inside your cunt while coming. Winter’s blue eyes squeeze shut, and you both moan at the feeling. He fills you up just like he promised, and you bite down on your lips. Everything has dried, and you feel disgusted, so you try to focus on the way his cum pumps inside you. His cock stays inside you, but he doesn’t soften at all, and you know what that means. Winter falls on top of your sticky chest with a sigh, and tears sting your eyes.

Though he says you need him, you wonder if that’s really true.

[slifers-executive-writer]

I am well aware I have not been personally present on both this blog and the precious fanfictions it is dedicated in sharing with the world. But from the news of this morning, I feel I have an obligation to address it, particularly while I still have the motivation to do so. So here it is, and I will also be reblogging my older posts that relate to this topic later today.

I was gonna start off by saying this man shaped my childhood, but... I feel I'd be like lying to myself in an effort to making it sound cliche and poetic.

No no. This man (let's say his name everyone, Kazuki Takahashi) literally molded and morphed my whole fucking life. And I'm not exaggerating either. It's no mystery to those that know me in acknowledging I didn't exactly have it easy growing up. But in spite of the bullying and numerous other hardships, I always had Yu-Gi-Oh. Like I nearly ditched Pokemon and Digimon so fast because of this. As a kid this show and its card game had become a bit of an obsession and I don't think any other form of media resonated with quite like Yu-Gi-Oh did.

Like I wanted to be THAT guy. Someone who was strong and confident, who knew what they were doing and didn't spend every other waking minute in fear of what would come next. I think we all put on a sort of alter ego when going out into the world, especially when we are just trying to figure out who we are. But in that journey of putting on a different face for others to be impressed by I find eventually we look within and slowly become comfortable with our true selves. I know it took me a long fucking time to do so. And who knows maybe deep down I'm still that scared little kid not knowing what their next move will be. But I definitely owe my personal growth to the world and characters of Takahashi's imagination.

If it wasn't for the card game, I wouldn't have met a good number of the people that walked in and out of my life. If it wasn't for the show, I wouldn't have my love for mythology and the ancient world. If it wasn't for the manga, I wouldn't have become the writer that I am today. I've drawn more Yu-Gi-Oh related art probably more than any source material. My walls and shelves are filled with countless memorabilia of the very franchise that I love so dearly. It even pains me to know that I will no longer see updates to this man's social media or any new artwork. And now with a very, oh so heavy heart I address a day I didn't think would come so soon. Rest in peace Kazuki Takahashi and Thank You for the being such a phenomenal part of my life and character.

P.S. To those that own any of his Alternative Arts in card form, hold them close to your heart and preserve them, for unless Konami decides to reprint and /or release unused artwork, we may never see the likes of his masterpieces again.

[lilhawkeye3]

wake up call

Alpha-17 x gender neutral Reader

Rating: E |||| Word count: 1.4K |||| AO3 Link |||| NSFW Masterlist

Summary: Alpha-17 ends up in the medbay after a difficult mission. You decide to give him a pleasant return to the waking world. 😏✌🏽

Warnings: somnophilia, blowjob, teasing, Alpha being a smug bitch

A/N: thanks to @ollovae3 for letting me plot this in her dms and also for the art!! ehehehehe if y’all like it I’ll do a part 2, so pls comment and reblog 🥺💕

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Granted, you knew this was always a possibility after every mission Alpha-17 left on. In fact, you knew better than most, seeing as you were one of the lead medics on this Venator.

Still... the sight of Alpha lying motionless against the pristine white sheets of his medbay cot was something you’d never wanted to be faced with.

You’re angry: at Alpha for being injured, at yourself for not being on his mission to help, at the galaxy for forcing himself to fight in this damned war. You’d been managing your guilt by handling his postoperative care for the past cycle. Now there was nothing left to do except wait for Alpha to wake up.

It gives you time to think. The two of you had certainly started out as a simply casual fling, and when your interactions had begun to extend out of the bedroom, neither of you had discussed the change. But then yesterday, you hadn’t even hesitated to move to Alpha’s side when he was carried into the medbay. The ARC trooper had been in a combative state as the other medics fought to sedate him, and only your touch and quiet murmuring in his ear had finally settled him.

Watching him be wheeled away to operation, and sitting at his bedside now, you know it would be pointless to deny how deeply you’ve fallen for him.

Your eyes roam his still form again, drifting over his face relaxed in sleep. You’ve never seen him so calm outside of the twisted sheets of your private quarters, both of your chests heaving with the exertion of your amorous activities. His latest mission was obviously rough; you can’t even begin to imagine what he’s seen this time around.

An idea comes to mind. To counter the bad, you decide that Alpha should get to wake up to something really, really good.

No better way than to wake him up with an orgasm.

The setting was perfect for your plan. Because of Alpha’s behavior when he’d been brought in, the medics had set him up in a corner area curtained off from the rest of the medbay, just in case he woke up in the same mindset. The cot was also larger than average to support the Alpha-class clone, so you had plenty of room to lift the sheets and lie flat on your stomach between his spread legs.

Even luckier for you, Alpha was only clad in a set of hospital robes. All you had to do was push the fabric up around his waist, completely baring his thick cock to you.

He’s just… so big. You know from experience how well endowed he is, how it feels each time he thrusts into you and you savor the delicious stretch. But Alpha is a generous lover, and you’ve never had the chance to simply take your time with sucking his cock before.

He’s hot and heavy in your hand. Your mind goes fuzzy around the edges as you get lost in the action of sucking him off: simply enjoying being able to slowly lick him from base to tip. Following the thick outlines of the veins of his cock with the tip of your tongue. Wrapping your lips around his head and letting the precum collect in your mouth.

It’s so… nice. You let yourself lose track of time as you draw out his pleasure and your own.

It’s only when you’re nearing the end– you feel his balls drawing up and tightening, his cock twitching in your mouth– and you know he’s about to cum that the world becomes startlingly bright as the sheets are yanked off your head. You glance up dazedly to see Alpha staring blearily down at you.

The groggy trooper barely has time to groan out, “Mesh’la, fuck!” before he violently clenches the sheets beneath him in his fists and cums down your throat. Long, white bursts fill your mouth and you greedily swallow it down, letting the taste of him linger on your tongue as you hollow your cheeks to coax the last bits of cum from his cock.

You let it get messy when you pull away, long trails of your combined fluids stretching from your parted lips to Alpha’s sensitive flesh. A smug smile crosses your face as you wipe the evidence clean with the sheets, glad that you won’t be responsible for cleaning them.

“Hey there, soldier.”

Alpha visibly clenches his jaw. “You’re just asking for trouble with that smart mouth of yours.”

“Seems just now you liked my ‘smart mouth,’” you sass back. Still, you pull back and bring your knees up underneath you so you’re now kneeling between Alpha’s thighs. He watches you with guarded curiosity as you lean forward to trail your fingers over his scraped cheek. “I missed you.”

His hardened expression softens, and he turns into your touch to press his lips gently against your fingertips. “Y’have no idea how much I missed you,” he replies, allowing this moment of vulnerability between you before his playful aggression returns full force. “Now get up, or my medic vode are gonna see you like this.”

“And if I want them to?”

Alpha growls deep within his chest. “Up. Now.”

You must make enough noise while climbing back to your feet that a medic does indeed pop his head around the curtain.

“Oh, ori’vod! Nice to see you awake alread–”

He doesn’t get any further because he’s stopped by Alpha aggressively pointing a finger at him. “Vod, if you don’t get me a fresh set of blacks and discharge me right this karking minute, I’ll have you on graveyard shifts for the next year.” Alpha ignores the glare you shoot in his direction in favor of staring down the poor medic.

It’s no surprise then that you’re both shooed out of the medbay in record speed. The Alpha-class are the ori’vod of the rest of the clones, and Alpha-17 in particular has quite the reputation. The medics know when it’s not worth the fight to keep a patient.

Although, you aren’t prepared for Alpha to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder the moment you step out into the corridor.

Normally, you’d act bratty and try and squirm out of his hold, but now it is a reminder that he came back (relatively) in one piece. If Alpha is well enough to lift you like you weigh less than a pillow, you know he’ll be fine. Instead, you pull down the neckline of his new blacks and begin to kiss the revealed skin. As he strides through the Venator’s halls, your playful kisses soon turn into bites as you leave behind a trail of hickeys along his neck and jawline. From the way his fingers squeeze your ass in retaliation, you know it’s successfully riling him up.

It also means you miss when he passes by your private quarters and only notice the next time you come up for air. “Alpha, wasn’t the turn back there?”

“Nuh-uh, ad’ika,” he rumbles. “You were so keen on sucking my fat cock in semi-public that we’re gonna continue to put on a show.” He stops in front of a thick door, and your eyes widen the moment before it opens as you recognize that it’s the commander barracks.

Alpha feels you freeze like a tooka caught in headlights, and he smirks your way as he carries you into the room.

You’re been deployed with the 501st on the last few missions, so you recognize Captain Rex and his second-hand Appo where they sit on one of the nearest bunks, a deck of cards shared between them. They both look up with friendly expressions that quickly morph into varying levels of amusement and embarrassment.

“Uh…” Rex starts eloquently before he coughs into his fist and boldly continues on. “Nice to see you up and about, ori’vod–”

“You’re got five seconds to get lost or you boys or gonna have front row seats to the show,” Alpha cut him off flatly.

Both of you know Rex is too polite to stay, and he’s not about to let Appo remain behind alone, so you watch them both leave as fast as they can while maintaining some sense of normalcy.

Alpha huffs in satisfaction before moving over to the farthest bunk and dropping you down onto the thinly padded mattress. You let yourself fall limp as you stare up at him with wide eyes while he looks around the room, clocks in on a group of discarded packs, and returns with a set of magnetic cuffs dangling tauntingly from his fingers.

“Gotta keep you from squirming, don’t I?”

Stars, you’re so fucked.