#Relationships Are Not All About The Woman

[my-castles-crumbling]

caught - jegulus - cw: implied shit home life for regulus - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 385

They were sitting on the couch together, Regulus tucked into James’s side. It was one of those rare moments that it seemed like Regulus could breathe. After escaping his childhood home only a week ago, the younger boy spent most moments on-edge, at least in James’s eyes. He was quieter than usual, and made every effort to blend into the background. It was only in the moments they were alone together that he seemed to completely relax.

But as they sat there, Regulus perusing a book Monty had loaned him while James watched a cartoon on the Muggle television, Effie walked into the room. And instantly, Regulus jumped like he’d been set on fire.

His expression was curious. Like prey being watched by a predator, he edged slowly to the opposite end of the couch as slowly and innocently as possible, eyes on the floor, avoiding any little touch James offered him. The whole thing made James’s heart ache. 

He was obviously trying to hide their relationship from Effie, and he was acting like they’d been caught in some heinous act.

“Hi, Mum,” James said quietly, trying to signal to Regulus that his mother was a safe person.

“Hi, Jamie. Hello, Regulus,” Euphemia said kindly, taking a seat in the armchair as far away from them as possible, picking up on Regulus’s body language at once. “Is it okay if I stay here for a while?”

James nodded, looking to Regulus, who didn’t respond, as if his consent didn’t matter. 

“You two looked like you were comfortable, I hope I didn’t interrupt,” Effie pushed gently, giving James an uneasy look.

“Not at all,” Regulus answered stiffly, still not looking at either of them.

But James was determined. “Baby, you know she knows about us. It’s okay, you can come here,” he whispered as quietly as possible, placing a hand on Regulus’s rigid shoulder.

Terrified gray eyes met his own, then trailed over to Effie. “I don’t want to offend you,” Regulus murmured to the older woman, who looked like she was about to cry.

“Regulus, dear. I would be deeply offended if you did not take the comfort you needed because of me,” Effie said with a sad smile. 

Regulus blinked. “Oh,” he mumbled.

And, very slowly, he took James’s hand and continued to read.

[keithyp00]

•·.·´`·.·•• You're Lying (and other things Sam won't stop saying) ••·.·´`·.·•

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: language, mild suggestiveness, comedy, romance, light-angst, found family, slow burn payoff, excessive teasing, established relationship, Sam being annoying

Trope: Everyone thinks you're not really dating. You are. No one believes you.

Word Count: 2.0K

Author Note: Guys this is just like my last one, this is to help me mentally prep for an AP exam tomorrow morning so if this is bad I am so sorry. But I hope you enjoy this nonetheless <3

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

You and Bucky were dating.

Like- really dating.

In the 'he's seen you at your absolute worst and still kisses your cheek like he doesn't look at you any differently' kind of way. The 'you keep an extra toothbrush at his place and he makes your coffee how you like it without asking' kind of way. The 'he pulls you into his lap during team movie nights and smiles against your shoulder, murmuring words into your ear like it's not the most dangerous thing he could do' kind of way.

And no one believed you.

Especially not Sam.

"Oh, come one," he said, flatly, as he walked in on you and Bucky curled up on the couch. "This again?"

You blinked. "We're watching Pretty Woman, Sam."

"You're spooning."

"We're affectionate."

"You're not even kissing! He's probably just cold. You know he runs cold. Like a cyborg space lizard or something."

Bucky growled. "Cyborg space-?!"

"Right," Sam interrupted. "Sure. Keep telling people you're dating. I'll be over here living in reality."

You buried your face into Bucky's neck. "I hate him," you mumbled.

"You love him," Bucky corrected with a sigh. "You just want him to validate our relationship."

"I want him to believe in our relationship. There's a difference."

Sam, in the kitchen, called out: "I don't!"

Bucky flipped him off without looking.

~~~~~

The problem wasn't that you and Bucky didn't act like a couple.

The problem was that you didn't act like a normal couple.

You didn't post mushy selfies. You didn't wear matching shirts. You didn't coo pet names across conference tables. You just... existed. Comfortable. Quietly in sync. The kind of romance that felt more like a heartbeat than a firework.

Too subtle for people like Sam Wilson, apparently.

"You didn't even kiss when you got back from that mission," Sam pointed out, a few weeks later. "She was gone for five days, man."

Bucky, polishing a knife, didn't look up. "I kissed her afterward. In private."

"See, that's the problem! You hide it. Makes it look fake."

"I'm sorry," you snapped. "I didn't realize our love life was for public broadcast. Want us to livestream the next one?"

Sam looked delighted. "That's a strong reaction. I hit a nerve. This is faker than Tony's allergy to gluten."

Tony called from down the hall: "It's real, you bastard!"

~~~~~

At first, it was funny.

Then it got exhausting.

You weren't insecure about your relationship- Bucky made sure of that, every day, in a dozen quiet ways. He cooked for you. Kissed your temple. Held your hand under tables. Brushed his thumb along your jaw like it was the most precious part of you.

But still. No one believed it.

Not Nat, who called it "convenient physical proximity."

No Clint, who claimed he'd never seen you kiss with tongue (as id that were a valid benchmark).

Not even Steve, who offered a gentle "Are you sure he's not just emotionally dependent on you?"

It all came to a head one night at a bar.

You'd just finished a mission and everyone was letting off steam. Sam leaned against the bar counter beside you, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"So," he started. "You and Barnes still 'dating'?"

You narrowed your eyes. "Yes."

"Hmm. Okay." He sipped his beer. "So if I leaned in and kissed you right now, he wouldn't deck me?"

You stared at him.

"Try it," Bucky said darkly from behind, voice like cracked gravel.

Sam smiled. "Still not proof."

Bucky grabbed your hand. "You want proof?"

"Bucky-" you warned.

"No, no. He wants a show. Let's give him one."

He yanked you flush against him, hand cupping your jaw, and kissed you.

You melted into it, clutched his shirt, kissed him back with something that sounded like a whimper because Jesus.

Not a polite kiss.

Not a we're-dating-I-swear kiss.

A I-know-every-inch-of-your-mouth-and-I-love-you kiss.

Hot. Possessive. Unapologetic.

When he pulled away, Sam blinked. "...Okay. Damn."

"Believe us now?" Bucky raised a brow.

Sam blinked again. "Not really."

You grabbed a pretzel stick and stabbed it into the foam of Sam's beer. "I hope you step on RedWing."

~~~~~

Even after that, the teasing didn't stop.

Because of course it didn't.

"You probably practiced that," Sam said a few days later.

"What?"

"That kiss. You planned it. Just to throw me off."

Bucky rubbed his temples. "You are the most annoying man I've ever met."

"You're just mad I cracked the code."

"There is no code!"

You yanked open the fridge, pulled out a tub of frosting, and started eating it with a spoon. "I actually cannot live like this."

Sam pointed at the spoon. "See? No real girlfriend would let her boyfriend see that."

"Bucky bought me this frosting."

Bucky looked like he was about to get up and beat the shit out of Sam if he didn't start walking away.

~~~~~

Eventually, you gave up.

Let them believe what they wanted.

You and Bucky still kissed behind closed doors, curled together on the couch, whispered sleepy confessions after long days.

Until-

One night, you got sick.

Really sick. The kind of body-aching, fever-drenched flu that turned you into a grumpy, sniffling, corpse with a bag full of used tissues beside your bed.

And Bucky took care of everything.

He brought you soup. Rubbed your back. Helped you shower when you were too weak to stand. Brushed your hair out of your face. Slept beside you even when you told him not to.

Sam stopped by to check on you and walked in on Bucky holding your hand while you slept, forehead pressed to your wrist like he was praying.

The next morning, there was a small gift basket on your nightstand.

He backed out slowly.

Didn't say anything.

Didn't tease.

Didn't breathe.

"Okay. You win. He loves you. I won't say another word. P.S. Please don't tell anyone I'm capable of this level of sincerity. I have a rep to protect."

From Sam.

With a card.

~~~~~

You- of course- showed Bucky the card.

He smirked. "About damn time."

You kissed him with a smile.

And this time, no one questioned it.

~~~~~

The peace lasted exactly five days.

Five beautiful, uninterrupted days.

No teasing, no smug side-eyes, no Sam accusing you of being part of an elaborate CIA cover operation. Just you, Bucky, some early morning kisses over coffee, and one blessed evening where you somehow convinced him to slow dance in the kitchen to 40s music.

And then Sam broke into your new apartment. One you thought would give you full time peace compared to the Avengers compound.

(he claimed he "used the spare key." You knew he just picked the lock.)

"Morning, lovebirds," he smiled brightly, leaning against the doorframe like this wasn't the worst intrusion since Ross kissed someone else while he and Rachel were on a break.

You stared at him over Bucky's shoulder, still wrapped in his hoodie with sleep-mussed hair and a mug of tea between your palms. "It's 7:13 a.m."

"I brought bagels."

"And chaos."

Sam strolled in. "And relationship advice."

Bucky looked up from the couch, dead-eyed. "Why?"

"Because now that I know you two are the real deal, I gotta make sure you stay real."

You rubbed your temples. "We're not a gas leak, Sam."

"No, but you're both stubborn and weirdly avoidant and emotionally repressed, and frankly, I'm impressed it took me this long to be needed."

Bucky mumbled, "I'd rather be waterboarded."

Sam ignored him and slapped a notebook onto the table. "Step one: scheduled communication check-ins."

"Oh my god-"

~~~~~

You tried ignoring him.

Didn't work.

("It's like Find My iPhone, but romantic," he said. Bucky installed it in twelve seconds.)

Because Sam became relentless. He started showing up with couple's quizzes.

Brought you a deck of 'relationship conversation starters.'

Installed an app on Bucky's phone called 'LoveTracker.'

And worst of all- he documented everything.

"Bucky," he'd say mid-mission, "when was the last time you complimented her non-physically?"

You stared at him. "Non-physically?"

"Yeah. Like her intelligence. Or her moral compass. Or how she hasn't murdered me yet."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "I call her my girl every morning."

"That's possessive endearment, not a compliment."

"I tell her she's smarter than Tony."

~~~~~

Somewhere around Week 3 of Sam's Unsolicited Couples Therapy, something unexpected happened.

But... he also started being kind of helpful.

He stopped being annoying.

(Okay, no. He was definitely still annoying.)

Like the night you and Bucky got into your first real fight.

It wasn't explosive. Just sharp. Quiet. Full of jagged silences.

You'd been on back-to-back missions, and Bucky had started pulling away. Fewer cuddles. More brooding. Less talking. You tried to be patient- God, you tried- but when he snapped at you for asking what was wrong, it all unraveled.

"I'm trying to help," you said, voice trembling.

"I didn't ask for it," he muttered.

The room froze.

You didn't cry.

You never cried in front of him.

But that night, you shut your bedroom door behind you and curled up alone.

But Sam came over first.

Bucky didn't come in.

Not until morning.

~~~~~

He found you on the balcony, hoodie pulled over your knees, cold tea forgotten beside you.

Then, quietly: "You know, when Sarah gets mad at me, I do this thing where I pretend I'm not scared I'll lose her. But I am. I always am."

He didn't say anything at first.

Just sat down next to you, offered a granola bar.

You looked over. "You think Bucky's scared?"

Sam tilted his head. "That man loved you like it's gonna be taken away from him. Like he's holding something he thinks he shouldn't have. So yeah. He's scared."

~~~~~

You didn't cry.

But you breathed.

And it helped.

Bucky apologized that afternoon.

He stood in the doorway, fists clenched, breathing hard like it took everything in him to walk in.

"I'm sorry," he said. "For being a coward. For making you feel like you weren't wanted when you're the only thing I ever want."

You looked at him.

He stepped closer. "I never learned how to let myself be... this happy. It scared the hell out of me. But not as much as losing you."

You opened your arms, and he came apart in them.

That night, Bucky fell asleep with his hand on your heart.

And you whispered, "You're safe with me."

~~~~~

The next morning, Sam dropped off muffins.

"I told you you'd fight eventually," he said smugly.

You grabbed the muffins and shut the door in his face with a smile.

~~~~~

Over time, you adapted.

You didn't expect Sam to be a normal friend, he didn't know how to do that. But you did start to appreciate him as a part of your life. Your weird, overinvolved, chaotic platonic marriage therapist.

One night, you all sat around a campfire during a retreat mission. Quiet stars. Crickets. Steve snoring faintly in the background.

He became your sounding board.

Your crisis texter.

Your sarcastic but loyal brother figure who threatened anyone who looked at you funny and called Bucky 'lover boy' just to watch him twitch.

Sam looked over at you both.

"You know," he said, voice softer than usual, "you're actually really good together."

Bucky looked at him. "Took you long enough."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up. But I mean it. You make him more human," he said to you. Then, to Bucky: "And you make her feel protected without caging her."

Sam threw a marshmallow at you both. "Don't get soft on me. I'll revoke my own compliment."

You blinked.

Bucky squeezed your hand.

~~~~~

Months later...

You stood at the edge of a field after a joint mission, hair tousled, laughing with Bucky as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You smiled to yourself.

Sam walked past, muttering into comms.

"She's in love, he's in denial, and I'm still unpaid for all their therapy."

Which honestly... was kind of perfect.

You were real.

You were loved.

And you had the most chaotic friend group in the world.

[aquasoftware]

Let's go milf huntin' ˳ᐟ ˳ᐟ

Desc | Choso has always had an immense thing for milfs, but his obsession gets a whole lot worse when he moves next door to his ridiculously hot, newly-divorced neighbor. Lucky for him? Things start falling into place.

Cw | Age gap (Choso is in his mid twenties/reader is in her early forties,) milf! Reader, dry h*mping, crėampīe, mommy kīnk, soft! Dom choso, marking, mild begging, + Choso is yuuji’s legal guardian, reader has two children (only briefly mentioned,) divorcee! Reader, & not proofread. + ML

Milf hunter! Choso doesn’t do women his age at all, at first his standard was at least a year or two older than him, but then he realized each time his actual needs in a relationship were left completely unsatisfied.

Milf hunter! Choso noticed he desired older women, not even just for their beauty, but for their emotional stability and overall maturity. He values the way older women are confident, composed, often avoid drama, and take no nonsense from others.

Milf hunter! Choso who’s starved for nurturing energy, especially since he hadn’t got much of it himself, spending more time caring for his little brother Yuuji, so a woman who’s caring, gentle, warm, yet also knows what she wants hits him right in his weak spot.

Milf hunter! Choso who happens to find his exact type when he moves next door to you, knowing just by a glance you check off a few boxes in his head, but he already knows he craves more interaction to get to know you first.

Milf hunter! Choso who uses Yuuji as an excuse to continuously see you, scheduling for playdates always meant it’d be just you and Choso chatting about everything, while Yuuji and your two kids would play with each other.

Milf hunter! Choso who’s shocked, yet so turned on the second you two are chatting and he learns you’re in your early forties.

Milf hunter! Choso found himself unfortunately thrilled when finding out you’re a divorcee, taking that as his big opportunity to get closer.

Milf hunter! Choso adores every single time you invite him over, he already knows you’ll provide him with a large feast even if he declines, trying his best not to eat so much, feeling guilty about how badly he wants to return the favor.

Milf hunter! Choso is always at your house more than his own, he starts getting so close, you begin to let him in about the drama of why you divorced your ex-husband. It shatters his spirit, yet warms his heart that you’re able to be vulnerable with him.

Milf hunter! Choso’s favorite moments are when he’s all alone with you, specifically when his brother is at school and your children are spending time with your ex husband…

Milf hunter! Choso who’s always there rubbing your back when you vent about how terrible your ex-husband treated you. It only upsets him when you ask if you’re talking too much, he wishes to hold that weight for you.

Milf hunter! Choso acts on autopilot when you begin to cry about any stress breaking you apart. It’s only instinct when he brushes any hair away from your face, kissing your tears solely to comfort you.

Milf hunter! Choso apologizes profusely when your eyebrows are raised along with your jaw dropped at his actions.

Milf hunter! Choso who’s now deeply perplexed, feeling your soft lips on his mumbling “It’s okay you didn’t have to apologize.”

Milf hunter! Choso swears his heart is hammering so loud, he’s convinced you hear it. Mind going completely numb when you straddle his lap, guiding his hands to your hips.

Milf hunter! Choso hates how easy it is to make him hard, but can’t help it when you’re in a pretty little pink robe that has your initial imprinted on the chest. Just subtle grinding on top of him through his jeans has his veins aching for more.

Milf hunter! Choso who starts to go feral hearing your sultry moans against his red-tinted ears, he can’t help but to suck at the tender skin on your neck leaving marks purposefully to jab at your ex.

Milf hunter! Choso whimpers embarrassingly loud once you move your hips back and forth whispering sweet nothings into his ear. His breathing became shaky when you pressed your forehead on his, accidentally coming too quick leaving a dark wet patch through his pants.

Milf hunter! Choso suddenly has something unlock in him once you tease him for it, whispering “You must really needed that, huh?”

Milf hunter! Choso who has you gasping, as he pushes you down in front of him, ordering you to untie your robe, while he unzips his jeans, sliding down his boxers.

Milf hunter! Choso nearly rolls his eyes back easing into you, knowing his fleshlights at home would be collecting dust after this.

Milf hunter! Choso who gently smiles when you use your french tips to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves, as cream starts to collect on his pelvis. He plants little kisses all over your face whispering “Fuck, does that feel good mommy?”

Milf hunter! Choso who’s subtly proud when you can only nod, throat too focused on crying out his name rather than forming a sentence to answer him. He purposefully raises your legs over his broad shoulder pounding deep, just to bully that a-spot, hearing your pretty mewls echo around the living room.

Milf hunter! Choso who talks you through your orgasm before his own, murmuring things like “It’s okay just relax, you can let go for me.” And when you finally do? He lets you hold his hand, even if he feels like his bones might crack.

Milf hunter! Choso still tries to be respectful although he was just fucking your pussy like an animal a moment ago, with a trembling voice he asks “Can I cum inside you mommy? Please..?”

Milf hunter! Choso who stuffs you so deep with his thick semen, your poor tummy feels overly bloated. 

Milf hunter! Choso had such a memorable time with you that he almost forgets to pick his brother up from school. Nevertheless he manages to grab a rag in your bathroom nearby to clean you up, fixing your hair as he peppers your face with kisses, and making tea, before he grabs his car keys to leave.

Milf hunter! Choso who has your ex husband’s panties in a twist once he drops your children off, fuming at the marks on your neck learning you’ve moved onto someone younger.

Divider/Boarders produced by icheries & diviniyae.

Song written by Koi'lani/@aquasoftware.

<3 Masterlist!!

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, AND LIKES ARE HEAVILY APPRECIATED!! THANK YOU < 3

A/n : Happy belated mother’s day 🤫

[hearteyeslikeafooligan]

Yeah women have been saying this forever. The main feature of misogyny (which almost all men participate in without thinking they are) is that men are trained and nutured to see women as objects and as things.

Things to either take out their aggression on without any shame because they're just women and not humans, or things to acquire as possessions and those must be perfect things like an ideal product on a shelf.

They're all trained that way, and it reaches further than romantic relationships because we have all of our medical procedures and medicines based only on men because they never bother to include women in the human drug trials, and most things react wildly differently based on different physiology but they're still doing this many decades after problems with this have been ruining so many lives and everyone knows about it but it never changes because women aren't considered human when they're testing the new drugs or protocols.

With this attitude absolutely everywhere and infused into everything in our lives, it's easy to miss how a man talking about what he dislikes about potential dates is fully misogynistic.

Every time a gay man says "it's OK I'm gay" when he accidentally touches a woman's breast while helping with her clothing or something, it's participating in the same misogyny. If a lesbian said that to a man after accidentally brushing his nipple or something, the reaction would not be to think what she said was cute. "It's OK I'm gay." That means the only thing that matters is what was inside HER head, with no regard for what the guy who was actually touched felt about it. When it's a woman who got touched without consent, it doesn't matter what she feels, it only matters what the person touching her feels about it. Women's bodies are public property. But if a man is the one who just got touched without his consent, that lesbian is automatically required to apologize and stop and ask for consent to continue and sure she can say any cute thing about "it's OK I'm gay" but only in conjunction with absolute clear communication of not doing anything without the man's permission first. We don't react that way when a woman is the one who got her breast touched and the man said it's ok based on what was inside his head only. No apology is even necessary. Why do we react so different when it's a man? Because men own their own bodies. Women's bodies are public property.

So when men date men, they talk about their preferences seeing them as whole humans. When men date women, they are seeing them as objects and as public property to tear apart however they like.

You never hear a lesbian or a gay man talk about how they think all men or women should be. We talk about what we like and it's clear we're talking about our personal preferences and not insisting that everyone should confirm to those personal preferences when they walk around the world existing.

Almost all straight men do that. Right out loud all the time in mixed company at parties and the library and the church picnic. They just spout out about how all women should be. Whatever their personal preferences are. They state their personal preferences as requirements that all women need to follow. That is glaringly misogynistic and dehumanizing but it's so easy to miss because we're just so used to it as a society.

Just flip the gender whenever you hear a man saying anything, and imagine a woman saying that about a man, and you'll notice how in your mind men are humans and don't deserve to be treated that way, but somehow you didn't react that way in your mind when a woman was being treated that way. We all just shrug and see it as macho talk. But it is the misogyny baked into every single aspect of our lives and it's ingrained in our minds so deeply it doesn't even register as the dehumanizing and life ruining thing it is for half the human population.

And remember to consider the additional layers of adverse effects this has on nonbinary and trans people when all of society is fully accepting of misogyny as the ingrained norm.

The longer I exist as a loudly proudly gay man the more I think that cishet men aren't actually attracted to women.

[venomvalley]

NEON CARNIVORES

dom!sevika x fem!reader x pathetic!vi | 5.9k words

SUMMARY: You're Sevika's long-time girlfriend. Vi is Sevika's new roommate. What could possibly go wrong?

TAGS: 18+ only! smut (porn w/ plot, voyeurism, fingering, oral, threesome). angst, addiction, mental health issues, sex as therapy. modern!zaun au. complicated character dynamics.

NOTES: been working on this for so long and i just hope its good. split this into two parts btw so.. look out!!

-> READ ON AO3 | ARCANE MASTERLIST

Saturday morning rolls around with a blare of your work alarm—an early shift to cover for your sick coworker, with the added bonus of overtime for this pay period.

Sevika isn’t too happy about seeing you go, arm wound tight around your waist, grumbling out a throaty protest when you try to wriggle beneath her hold.

You spend every weekend at your girlfriend's new apartment. Twice the size of her last, with an extra bedroom neither of you ever use outside of temporary storage. She’s been weighing the idea of getting a roommate, with the recent hike in rent by her scummy landlord, and you would jump at the opportunity, if not for her insistence that you take things slow.

(You’ve been dating for two years. In Zaunite terms, you might as well be married already.)

Ten minutes later, after wrestling for your freedom from the cage of her bed, you shuffle into the kitchen with a loud yawn. Wearing nothing but a long shirt and a pair of random underwear.

You freeze at the sight of an unknown woman stood at the sink, scrubbing a dish. Pink hair, broad shoulders, intricate tattoos. Dressed similarly to you.

Who the fuck…?

“Uh, hi,” you say, hid half-behind the wall to conceal your state of undress. The woman turns to look at you, and—

(Pot of boiling water, meet frog.

Inevitability is a crazy, crushing thing when combined with your power of extreme denial. One moment, you're sitting in a jacuzzi, and the next, your skin is peeling away from the bone.

A slow, sanguine death.)

“Oh, hey,” she replies, reaching to dry her hands off on a nearby towel. “You're Sevika's girl, right?”

You nod your head and offer up your name, stepping out to stand behind the lip of the counter.

“Name’s Vi. I'm the new roommate.” Ah. Would've been nice if Sevika had warned you beforehand. “I'm just gonna,” a thumb points to the once-spare bedroom, “crawl back in my hole now.”

“Right. Good morning, Vi.”

“Yeah. Morning.”

You return to Sevika’s bedroom with a scowl on your face and a complaint on your tongue, shutting the door a bit harder than you meant to. Her shape beneath the sheets jolts at the sound, head popping up from the pillow.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had a new roommate?”

She blinks, swiping her palm over each eye, jaw dropping to make room for a loud yawn. “Oh, her.”

“Yeah. Her.”

“Relax. Vi stays in her room all day,” spoken mid-stretch, her lone arm reaching for the lip of the headboard.

“That’s not the point. What if I had walked out there naked?”

“Then she’d get one hell of a show.”

You physically deflate, shoulders curling inward, and shuffle over to the bed. Sevika scoots over to give you room, then lifts the sheets in invitation.

“You know I'm joking, right?” she asks, the curve of her nose brushing against your cheek.

“I know… ‘m just embarrassed.”

“Don't be. Vi has three braincells to her name. No chance she even noticed.” Sevika pauses a moment, then gives a lazy shrug of her shoulder. “Probably.”

Thus begins a new era of your relationship: Roommate Woes. Except, Vi isn't the problem here. She keeps to herself, does her chores, pays rent on time via her night shift job (whatever that is). Sevika, on the other hand, never learned subtlety, and coupled with her insatiable libido, you experienced PDA on levels previously unknown to humankind.

But gone are the days of her bending you over the kitchen counter, or fucking you on the couch, or being as loud as she wants—just to spite the cantankerous old lady living next door. While Vi works, Sevika sleeps. Opposite schedules that leave you no room for sexual intimacy. As such, both you and Vi share in this odd stall-state of perceived encroachment. Her, encroaching on your relationship; you, encroaching on her home.

So. In an amiable show, you decide to talk with Sevika about inviting her to your weekly movie night.

The two of you stand in the kitchen mid-discussion, making food to much on as the television plays the movie's menu screen on repeat.

“But why do I have to ask her?”

“Because this was your idea in the first place.” Sevika steps away from the counter with a sigh, hand adorned with a sickly-pink, heart-patterned oven mitt (she swore when you bought it for her that she would never wear it, and now it's the only one she uses). “She won't bite.”

“I think she hates me.” At the crook of her brow, you scoff, voice veering toward whiny. “I’m serious. Every time I come over, she scurries off to her room and I don't see her the rest of the weekend.”

“She does that anyway.”

“It's different, though.”

“… Just knock on the damn door.”

Against your better judgement, you trundle off and away, stopping before the looming pane of wood that separates you from Vi's bedroom.

Really, it's not a big deal. It shouldn't be. But your girlfriend's roommate is a pink-haired enigma, a puzzle stuck in a perpetual state of unsolvable. A disappearing act that, you gotta admit, hurts your ego a bit. You don’t recall saying anything wrong, but maybe, given the circumstances, you should double check that your presence is even wanted. Vi lives here, after all.

So you knock on the door—a few quick raps of your knuckles, just loud enough to grab her attention. You wait for a beat, then another, then another, and just as you turn to leave, the door swings open in a rush of cool air.

Some sort of fan whirs a steady noise from inside her bedroom, the floor strewn with clothes, room dark except for the blue-light halo emanating from her computer. She starts at the sight of you, jolting half a step backward before collecting herself.

“Oh. Sorry, I thought you were—”

“Do you wanna watch a movie with us?” The question comes out in a rush, your synapses a live-wire of anxiety.

Shit. You just want her to like you. Better for all parties involved when you show up every week without fail.

She blinks the kitchen light from her eyes, hand slipping beneath her shirt to scratch at a hip. “What?”

“A movie? Neon Carnivores just came out, and Sevika picked up the DVD after work. It's supposed to be this noir-horror filmed in the Lanes. Thought you might like it.”

“Uh,” a quick shake of her head, “yeah. I'll be there in a minute.”

Then she slams the door in your face.

You shuffle back to the living room, head emptied of all thought. Bewildered. Sevika sits on one end of the couch sans prosthetic, munching on a slice of pizza fresh from the oven. Carefree and oblivious.

“How'd it go?” she asks, bumping her shoulder into yours when you sit down beside her.

“She slammed the door in my face.”

Sevika has the audacity to laugh. To say, “Oh, she's got it bad.”

You land an admonishing smack on her thigh. “Stop, Sev.”

“It's true.” Another bite of her pizza. “You’re all she talks about.”

“What, about how much she hates me?”

“Do you want her to hate you?”

“No.”

“Then shut up.”

Your mouth drops open in half-serious shock, but she continues to eat her stupid slice of pizza and stares at you like she said nothing wrong.

Vi's bedroom door creaks open. A beat of awkward silence passes before she appears in the corner of your eye, weighing her choice of couch or recliner. One glance at Sevika makes up her mind, and Vi takes the cushion beside you. She offers up a tight-lipped smile when you meet her gaze, turning away before you can reciprocate.

The rest of the evening follows a similar pattern: Vi curled up against the armrest while Sevika cuddles you against her side, the movie you chose bathing the room in colors of neon velvet. An indie-arthouse flick hallmarked by practical effects and unusual cinematography.

Sevika spends the last thirty minutes of the movie with her head tucked to her chest, vehemently arguing against the idea of exhaustion every time you wake her up and tell her to go to bed.

When the credits roll, Vi excuses herself, and your girlfriend finally succumbs to your prodding. Kisses you goodnight and shuffles off to bed.

So here you sit, stretched out on the cushions, cold and lonely and mourning the loss of Sevika's weight against you. Some game show continues in the background as you scroll through your phone, leagues away from the exhaustion that usually sends you to bed.

“Hey.”

The sudden greeting jolts you, and you turn around to find Vi stood at the entrance of the small hallway, housing her bedroom on one side and bathroom on the other. Scarred knuckles curled over the wall's edge, almost skittish in her stance.

“Oh. Hey.” You sit up against the armrest, elbow denting the back cushion.

“Where's Sevika?”

“In bed.”

“This early?” A click of her tongue, arm swinging a lazy rhythm as she steps into the living room. “Somebody's getting old.”

The first conversation you've ever had with her, aside from the greetings-in-passing on your way to Sevika's bedroom. But those don't count, right?

“Yeah, I tell her that all the time.”

Then silence. Vi remains awkward behind the couch, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time. Your teeth tug at a piece of stubborn skin on your bottom lip. The show drones on, forgotten in the wake of her presence.

“So. How long have you two been together?” she asks, hands finding comfort in the pockets of her sweatpants.

“Two years tomorrow.”

She exhales a sound halfway between a hum and a grunt, brows lifting clear to her hairline. “Shit. Practically married, huh?”

“Something like that.”

Sevika doesn't believe in marriage. A piece of paper solidifying love? Bunch of bullshit, far as she's concerned. And it isn't that you don't agree, but… well. It would be nice to have the option this deep underground. That useless piece of paper is only reserved for pilties.

“She’s happy with you.”

You blink, and she's circling around the couch. “You think so?”

She plops down in Sevika's recliner, one leg thrown over the armrest. (Sevika would kill her if she knew, but you swear yourself to a vow of silence. An olive branch for a budding friendship.)

“Definitely. She helped me out a few years back. Less of an asshole now, with you in the picture.”

So, they know each other. That makes more sense than Sevika inviting some random stranger to live with her. She's made too many enemies to consider such an idea.

“How'd you two meet?”

Her foot jitters back and forth, shaking the armrest. “She knew my old man when they were young, and when he died a few years ago, she kinda… took me under her wing.”

Vi says nothing else, and you don't intend to pry. But you're curious. Who wouldn't be? Sevika stays tight-lipped whenever Vi’s name comes up in conversation, and she’s the only person you know to answer all your burning questions. Aside from the woman herself.

But you're not there yet. Your nosiness will have to wait.

So you smile and say, “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

When she smiles back with a lopsided quirk of her mouth, you think you might be kind-of-halfway friends.

—

A simple text changes everything.

Hey. Turn your tv up.

Sender: Sevika. Recipient: Vi.

A heat-of-the-moment decision from a brain fogged by hormones and the sight of your bare tits in the mirror while changing into pajamas. Post-anniversary date, mid-makeout in her bed, she grabs her phone and sends The Text.

What follows is a marathon of impressive proportions. A box of sex toys, a bottle of lube, and two very insatiable libidos. You expected this after teasing her all night—kissing her neck on the drive to the restaurant, groping her ass during the post-check bathroom break, babbling about your ideas for sex after the two of you make it home.

She fucks you like she's trying to leave a scar in the mattress, maybe carve your body into the wrinkled sheets. Heavy and hot. Angry. Staking her claim. A routine of feeding you her cock until you cry, then soothing the ache with her mouth, then flipping you over and doing it again.

Then, a shadow under the door, shifting its weight. Sevika doesn't notice, too busy lapping at your wet cunt, but you do. Head tipped upside down over the side of the bed, that little patch of inky darkness is all you can look at.

For a moment, you contemplate saying something. You should say something, but you're selfish, and the looming orgasm that numbs you down to the bone steals away every braincell capable of thought.

You know Vi's been listening. Sevika and subtlety mix as well as oil and water. That fucking text. Her shadow lingers under the door like a spilled-ink stain as you whine and whimper through orgasm number three. Even when your world shifts, and Sevika kneels over your prone form, your gaze remains on the shadow beneath the door. A constant, an anchor to the real world.

Strap buried inside your cunt, Sevika flattens herself along the expanse of your back. The soft plush of her lips ghosts over the shell of your ear.

“We have a visitor,” she mutters, and you shudder beneath her. “What do you say? Should we ask her to join?”

The scary part? You actually think about it. Not exactly crossing the line to consideration, but you entertain the idea. The width of Vi's shoulders spreading your thighs, the softness of her mouth against your skin, the layers of her mullet caught in your fist—

Okay. So you consider it.

“Seriously?” you ask, voice a hissing breath of disbelief.

Sevika mouths along your pulse, the cold metal of her prosthetic hand smoothing up your spine. “She's standing outside for a reason.” A sharp bite to the curve of your shoulder, and an inhale catches between your teeth. “That reason isn't me.”

“I—”

Her posture softens, and her voice along with it. “Just think about it, okay?”

Sweet and tender, a facet of Sevika that she reveals only to you—almost comedic given the circumstances. Dangling the idea of a threesome in front of your face, so blasé about the whole thing that you're afraid to take her seriously. No, it's nothing more than dirty talk. Fantasy.

(The disappointment that knots in your gut doesn't actually exist.

Right?)

Things become… weird after that night. Tense as a band waiting to snap. Vi avoids you like you've caught the plague, lurking at the corner of your vision but never daring to approach. No more late-night conversations on the couch, or sharing the burden of dishes, or trading memes back and forth during the week. Like she never even existed at all.

You fucked up. You don't know how, but you did.

Her absence shouldn't bother you so much, but Sevika obviously cares about her to an extent. Why wouldn't you want Vi to like you? And yeah, maybe you enjoy her being around. She's easy to talk to. A comforting presence that reminds you a lot of Sevika.

Given her indefinite absence from your life, you don't expect your phone to blare with her ringtone on a typical Wednesday night (three thirty-two a.m. to be exact) long after you've fallen asleep. You paw at the nightstand for the familiar rectangle of your phone, bleary-eyed and frustrated at the interruption.

At the sound of her voice when you answer the call, you bolt upright in bed.

Slurred and trembling, weak:

“Fuck, it's late, I know, but my boss won't let me walk and I can't call Sevika like this. Can you just—” rustling on the end of the line, a muffled exchange between two voices that you can't quite hear, “I need a ride home.”

Before she can finish her last sentence, you’re throwing a coat on and snatching your keys from the coffee table. “Where are you?”

“Um,” she sniffles, “Apex Eleven. It's this club near the apartment.”

“I'll be there. Wait for me inside.”

She mumbles in agreement then hangs up.

You know that place. Sevika took you there when you first started dating, and though the night started out awkward in that new-romance-learning-curve way, you eventually coaxed her onto the dance floor after a shot or ten. You shared your first kiss in the parking lot outside, right before throwing up all over her pants.

In the heart of the Lanes, the streets awaken at night. Traffic thickens as you near the strip of bars and clubs and brothels, neon signs blinking in rhythmic disorder. Crowds of people stroll down the sidewalk on either side of the street, a jumble of conversation and thumping music intruding on the silence inside your car.

You pull into the club's parking lot then beeline for the front door. One ID check later, and you step inside the club to meet a thick wall of smoke and the smell of sweat-masking body spray. The floor sticks to your shoes as you skirt the outer edge of the dance floor, pinballed between drunken bodies. A party of overstimulation.

Vi sits slumped at the bar, her pink hair a stand-out amongst the sea of clubgoers, undeterred by the lights that cloak her form in multicolor strobes. The tattoos branching up her bare arms ring familiar.

You sidle up beside her, shaking her by the shoulder. “Hey.”

She sits up at the sound of your voice, eyes squinting in confusion, body drawn tight and angular—preparing for a fight.

After a long, breath-stilling moment, she relaxes. “Oh. Hey.”

You nod toward the exit. “Let’s get you home.”

“Whatever. This place sucks anyway.”

Now, the hard part: dragging her to the car. A task she makes no effort to help you with, still sat at the bar, eyes never leaving your face. Low-lidded and darker than you’ve ever seen them.

“What is it?” you ask, shifting back and forth on your feet. The atmosphere of the club renders you drunk by proxy.

“Fuck, you're pretty.” A hand reaches out to touch your face, palm sweatslick against your jaw, fingers ice-cold as they follow the curve of your skull. “Anybody tell you that lately?”

You grab her wrist and step away, a suggestion written in the tug of your hand. “Sevika. Ya know, my girlfriend?”

She slithers out of the chair, balance precarious as her brain struggles to command her feet. One step, then another, until her shoulder collides with yours. You steady her with an arm slung across her back, wincing beneath the drag of her weight as you begin to walk.

None of your Vi-shaped puzzle pieces fit together. No red string to connect all the details. During all your conversations, she kept topics shallow, information casual: likes the color blue, and exercise, and video games; grew up rough; has a sister and a nameless ex. Harmless breadcrumbs to leave behind.

And now there’s a brand new tidbit, filed away under ???????

Fuck, you’re pretty.

She’s far from sober. People say anything when they get a few drinks circulating in their blood, and she passed that threshold a while ago. Mystery solved.

Vi climbs into the passenger seat of your car and curls up against the console. When you buckle her seatbelt, she barely stirs. Something tender and aching rises at the sight of her, impossibly fragile and motionless, just before you close the door.

The drive back to her shared apartment is silent. She adjusts her position every few minutes, grumbling something under her breath—thankfully, still breathing.

Dragging Vi over to elevator is another mountain to climb. She stubs up once she recognizes the run-down shell of her apartment building, slurs something about Sevika and disappointment, and you don't understand the issue. There's no way you could drag her up four flights of stairs to your elevator-less apartment.

“Besides,” you continue, “Sevika's asleep. It'll be alright.”

It takes even more reassurance before Vi finally agrees to walk. You lead her through the small hallway, into the elevator, and up to the third floor.

Before you can find the key in one of Vi's many pockets, the apartment door swings open, and there stands—

“Sev. I didn't think you'd be awake.”

You find no anger in her features, but they contort all the same. Behind her shines the kitchen light, a small halo that cuts through the empty shadows plaguing the small living room.

Her eyes cut to Vi, sharp and piercing. “Women's intuition.”

"How'd you know?” Vi asks, head lowered, unable to meet the gaze of the woman before you.

Already, she stands a bit straighter, weight easing off your shoulder. No doubt sobered up by shock.

Sevika shrugs. Takes a drag of her cigarette. Says nothing, but steps aside to allow you both entry. And once inside, she takes Vi by the arm not slung over your shoulders.

“I got her, honey,” she says, stepping forward in silent request for you to take the cigarette from her mouth.

They disappear into Vi's bedroom. You take a seat on the couch and pass the time by chewing on the filter and watching the paper burn with each lung-filling puff. A fitting end to a night of self-destruction.

A few minutes later, Sevika comes back. Worn down to the bone, wet around the eyes.

“Is she okay?” you ask, scooting over to give her room to sit down.

She collapses beside you, head tipping back against the couch. “I don't know.”

A bad sign. Whatever they talked about, Sevika can't immediately fix, and the worry carves wrinkles into her brow.

Your fingers find the soft thickness of her thigh, comfort stamped in the press of your lips to her shoulder. She's warm, impossibly so. Worked up. Angry, even.

“The deal when she moved in was that she stayed sober.” She scrubs her hand over her face, frustration tangible, thickening up the air that surrounds you. “I told her that job was a bad fucking idea.”

“Is that what you helped her with a few years back?” you ask, voice never daring to rise above a whisper. “Getting sober, I mean.”

“She told you about that?”

“She just said you helped her with a situation.”

A stretch of tense silence, where nothing you say can fix the situation, and Sevika has no interest in wasting the energy on words.

“She wants to talk to you, by the way. You don't have to, but… Vi's a good person, she's just…”

“Been through a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

You're not angry. Worried, yes, but angry? Your Vi-shaped puzzle sharpens into view: a bad childhood, a sister she either doesn't talk to, an ex she refuses to name, a struggle with addiction. One awful event after another, woven into bone and muscle and joint and tendon. Staining everything she touches.

(Really, you don’t know why you care so much.)

When you open the door to Vi's bedroom, she’s laying in bed, tucked beneath the sheets. Staring up at the ceiling, she wipes her face on her shirt.

“Feel like company?” you ask, offering up a smile when she cranes her head to look at you.

The room lay dark, her form a deep splotch of shadow against the wall as she sits up. “Yeah.”

You sit down on the edge of the bed and wait for her to speak.

“I just wanna say that I'm sorry for tonight. I know I should've called Sevika but I was terrified that she would,” she shakes her head, “kick me out.”

“She wouldn't.”

“Well, I know that now, but… sorry for being trouble.”

You shrug. “Better you call me than something bad happen.”

She snorts, pillows creaking beneath her weight. “The worst already has.”

Your jaw aches from the force you exert to keep it shut. Curiosity rears its ugly head once again, but now isn't the time for indulgence.

“You can ask. If anybody deserves to know, it's you.”

“When Sevika helped you a few years ago, what was that about?”

“Oh, that? Funny story, actually.” A sharp sniff. “I was living on the streets at the time, going to bars and clubs every night, fighting for money. Literally, by the way. And one night, this woman walks up to me and says she knew my dad, Vander, before he died.

At that point, I’m ready to knock her out and go back to drinking, but she starts giving me details about his old life that nobody would know. So we go back to her apartment and she’s an asshole about the whole thing, but she helps me get my life straightened out.”

“And after that?”

“I move out on my own. Things are good for a while, but… life always catches up with you, I guess. I start thinking about Vander and my sister and—and Cait, and I start to spiral again. Go back to my old ways.”

Cait. A name for the unforgettable.

“It’s easy, isn’t it?”

The shadow moves, and you think Vi nods her head. “Yeah, it is.”

In a stroke of courage, you move from the end of the bed to its head, and after a bit of searching, you find Vi’s shape beneath the sheets. You lean into her, throwing your arms over her shoulders in an awkward hug. The smell of vodka leaks from her pores, skin sweatslick and sticky, and you can only hope that this brings her comfort.

“You’ll be okay. Maybe not for a while, but horrible things don’t last forever.”

Her hands press against your back, following the curve of your spine. “I’ll take your word for it.”

—

Vi loses herself for a while. She regresses back to some younger, weaker version of herself; back when everything was too much and too big and too scary. She quits her job at the club and starts sharing Sevika's bed at night. Another presence to drive out the demons that plague her.

It happens in the dark.

You're trapped between two very warm, very clingy bodies after a long conversation about boundaries and adaptation and how Vi fits into your life. Sevika tells you that you don't have to stay, that she isn't your responsibility, but you aren't gonna just leave her like this.

(You don't know why you care so much.)

“Can I kiss you?” Vi asks, whispered against the shell of your throat.

The world stops turning. She leans back and rests her head on the pillow, bright eyes wide, bottom lip sucked between her teeth.

Sevika lay right behind you, fitting perfectly against the curve of your spine, arm slung over your waist. That arm tightens, tugging you impossibly closer.

“It's okay,” she says.

Her hips grind against your ass, soft enough that you almost believe it an accident. Soft enough to jump-start the pulse between your legs.

You can't come back from this. Once your lips meet, it's done.

Does Sevika really not mind? Watching you kiss her… whatever Vi is? Friend, responsibility, something inbetween?

Fuck it.

You meet Vi's gaze and nod your head, and her smile flickers beneath the light of the television. As she leans in, her nose brushes yours, and Sevika's buries her face in your shoulder.

Vi kisses you like she loves you, all passionate and needy. Like you mean something to her, for all the ups and downs of your short relationship and her isolating tendencies.

Before Sevika, you never experienced love as a universal truth, giving or reciprocal. No butterflies, or fuzzy feelings, or giddiness at the sight of a lover. But when Vi kisses you, it feels… right. Comfortable. She licks into your mouth and she's warm and soft and impossibly sweet. Tender and careful and savoring.

She pulls away with a sigh, and the hand on your belly moves to cradle your jaw. A turn of your head, and Sevika sucks Vi's taste off your tongue.

It happens quick. The pulse between your legs sparks a fire that threatens full-body consumption. The women that sandwich you in take turns stealing the breath from your lungs, over and over and over again. A competition brews between the two regarding who can turn you into the biggest mess, and while one kisses you, the other nips at your neck and gropes your tits and teases at the seam of your underwear.

You don’t know how things turned out this way, but you aren’t complaining. Not when Vi rucks up your shirt and sucks a nipple into her mouth, and Sevika's lips feel like home against yours. Too much yet not enough, brain dizzy from overstimulation.

“Wait, fuck,” you gasp in a breath when they both part from you, “I just—I need a second.”

So horny you could honestly cry. If Vi wasn't here, you'd be begging Sevika for the strap, face buried in the sheets, ass in the air. They give you time to calm down, and you mourn the loss of their weight and warmth, skin buzzing from the ghostly stamp of their hands.

“Are you okay?” asks Sevika, nosing at the divot of your temple.

“Yeah, just…” you try and fail to suppress the stretch of your lips, “I didn't think you liked to share.”

She exhales an unamused breath, eyes darting to Vi when the latter drapes herself over your middle, hair tickling your chin.

“I'm a special case, right?”

Sevika shoves her off by the shoulder. Says, “Shut up. At least I don't listen in on my roommates—”

Vi stutters a moment then holds up a defensive finger. “Okay, that happened once. Once.”

“Porn exists.” A beat of silence, and Sevika laughs under her breath. “But you don't want porn, do you?”

You're definitely missing context for this conversation, but they argue like you don't even exist in the room.

“Don't,” Vi hisses, rising onto an elbow to glare at Sevika through squinted eyelids. “Seriously, I'll kick your ass.”

“Just ask her.”

Finally, you chime in. “Ask me what?”

Vi's glare turns to pleading, but beside you, Sevika remains stalwart.

“Ask me what?”

“Vi wants to fuck you.”

You blink. The neurons in your brain short-circuit. “For how long?”

“A while,” Vi grumbles, turned on her side, facing away from the two of you.

It's not the idea that surprises you, but the verbal admission. You know how to take a hint, and Vi's slip-up at the club cemented what Sevika already told you as fact.

“It doesn't bother me, if you're worried about that. Brat wants to feel good and she trusts you.” A lazy shrug that jostles your shoulder. “Your choice, honey.”

You look over at Vi to gauge her reaction, and find her already staring at you with pleading eyes. Tender as a healing wound.

It's an easy decision. Easier than your conscience allows. Your memory returns to the night Vi stood outside the bedroom door, when Sevika teased you about inviting her in. She recognized your own attraction before you did. That soft spot on your heart for an unsolvable woman.

“Let's do it.”

The once-playful atmosphere thickens into something anticipatory when Vi crawls between your legs, and your nerves might fray to breaking if not for Sevika’s presence at your side. Always doing what she does best—why you stayed despite her every effort to snuff your relationship out.

As Vi's hands find your inner thighs, Sevika kisses you soft and slow in an effort to tame the wild buck of your pulse.

“Go easy on her,” Sevika says to you, lips stretched in a teasing smile. “I'm sure it's been a while.”

“Fuck you,” Vi mutters, but says nothing in her own defense.

As if it even matters. Your girlfriend serves as the warden of your pussy, and she loves to bark an order or ten. You’re in good hands.

Off come your clothes while the other two remain dressed, a feeling of stark vulnerability that seeks to fry the white matter of your brain. Sevika rubs a comforting hand over your belly, while Vi shoulders your thighs apart.

The first thing you do is reach down to run your fingers through her hair. Soft as you imagined.

She dives in tongue-first, licking you from hole to clit, and groans when your thighs close around her head on instinct. It's all soft, wet heat. Messy from her spit. What she lacks in technique, she makes up for in enthusiasm. Moans so loud against your pussy that you almost believe she can feel your pleasure.

Sevika doesn't let you forget her. She murmurs praise into your ear, teases you for being so wet, asks you how good Vi's mouth feels. You've made it clear how her voice affects you, and she wields dirty words as a weapon any chance she gets.

Good girl.

You look so pretty like this.

How's it feel, honey?

You kiss her just to shut her up. The burn in your belly turns to a blaze embarrassingly fast, and when Vi slides a long finger into your cunt, stars burst behind your closed eyelids. There's no holding back your orgasm when her tongue circles over your clit, slick and hot and—

You turn away from Sevika's mouth and fist Vi's hair in both hands, the muscles in your thighs twitching. "Fuck, please."

"Come on, honey." A pair of plush lips trail down the line of your neck, nipping at your drum-beat pulse. "Let her make you feel good."

That's all it takes. Permission. Weeks without so much as a finger on your clit leads you to a breath-stealing release, and your hearing blots out as you grind against Vi's face. So selfish, needing more, craving the impossible: inevitability.

When the pleasure breaks, you sink into the mattress with a heaving sigh. Each lobe of your brain makes a slow return to normal, and when you blink your eyes open, Vi's face sharpens into view.

Wide-eyed and nervous, she smooths a hand up and down your thigh. "Was that okay?"

All you can do is giggle and nod your head. Too fucked-out to form words.

To your left, Sevika wraps a thick arm around your ribs and pulls you to her. She knows you too well. A long cuddle is neccessity after an orgasm, and she's warm and soft and her chest makes a great pillow. And if you fall asleep for a few minutes, you're none the wiser.

You open your eyes again to Vi gently cleaning you with a washcloth. Sevika sits beside her, nursing a glass of water.

"Hey, Vi." They both look down at you. "Want me to return the favor?"

She shakes her head, slick lips stretching into a dopey grin. "No. I got what I needed."

When Vi moves to lay back down, Sevika catches her by the shoulder. "Wash your face."

"Why don't you clean me up?"

You watch the exchange half-lucid and half-listening, until their voices filter through a lens of fading lucidity. What they both fail to realize is how alike they are, and suddenly everything makes sense.

That's why you care so much.

[shariasweet]

JAKE AND READER WATCHING 🌽 TOGETHER PLEASE PLEASE 🙏🙏

s.jaeyun x f reader

𝓦c ::: est -1k 𐙚 𝓢harinote ::: omg I'm so happy sb said this nonnie I'm gonna kiss u I've been wanting to post this forever 𐙚 warnin𝓰.ᐟ ::: porn · masterbationation · competitiveness ??? · swearing · pet-names · f.ᐟreader

you set up your computer at the foot of the bed—the screen in front of you blown up to full size—as you crawled back to your boyfriend.

“whoever cums first loses,” he grinned.

the two of you sprawled out, naked legs intertwining, as one of jake’s arms reached toward the mousepad—clicking the play button just as pornographic moans ripped from the speakers.

and that’s when you began.

two of your fingers tapped your clit—smearing slick along the expanse of your slit. you bit your lip, eyes rolling as they flicked in the direction of your boyfriend.

jake’s hand wrapped around his chubbed hard-on. his thumb ran along the veins of his cock, slowly—almost teasingly—making its way to the sticky slit of his swollen, mushroom tip. “f-fuck…” his other hand ran through his hair as his head fell back.

“hah…” you gasped, slipping a finger between the precum-lathered walls of your cunt. “you sensitive already, jakey?” you laughed breathlessly, your ring finger forcing itself between your clenching walls as you fucked yourself at a steady pace.

“no… n-no way, you wish… ngh!” he gritted his teeth, still fisting his cock, letting his head snap toward the screen.

all of this had started because of the competitive nature of your relationship. playful kisses had turned into a playful argument about who was easier—who came the quickest. “aww… baby, you know how good i make you feel,” you cooed, condescendingly twirling your fingers in his black locs as you smiled against his neck.

“maybe.” his grip on your waist tightened, pressing you into the tenting bulge in his pants. “but don’t i make you feel better?” he groaned against the shell of your ear—proposing there was only one way to find out.

on the screen, the girl was face-down, her leg propped on the counter as her partner ravished her. cum dripped from her slick-glistening folds, his moans guttural and uncontrolled as he fucked into her at a relentless pace despite having already come so many times.

the video reminded you two of yourselves.

“shit… i’m close,” jake huffed, squeezing his shaft hard, like he was trying to milk himself dry. “m-me too.” you frowned, back arching into your touch as three fingers thrust into you, your thumb massaging your clit. one hand worked your nipples—pinching the sensitive buds between your thumb and index finger.

“t-truce? please, ‘wanna watch you cum, angel,” your boyfriend whined, sounding eerily like the man on screen as his orgasm grew closer.

“yeah… mpf! oh my god, jake, baby!” you swore, head spinning, dizzy with need.

so was jake’s. he tugged his cock—sore and throbbing—pre-cum slicking his hand.

“cum with me, please, please… ‘want to cum together, y/n.”

“mhm..! fuck, i’ll cum with you, baby. just—ah! hah… oh, shit!” your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, warmth blooming in your core as you rode it out.

you could feel spurts of jake’s cum paint your mound, globs of pearly white dripping down your cunt as your hips jerked—clear liquid shooting from your fluttering hole as you screamed like the woman in the video.

the sheets beneath you were soaked—ruined by the slobbery, slicked-up mess you and your boyfriend had made.

the video on the screen had faded to black, the next one auto-playing.

“fuck…” your thighs trembled. jake breathed deeply, trying to catch his breath, while the two of you chuckled at the mess you’d made.

when your heads turned to the screen again, a new video was playing. “we should try that next,” he grinned.

“think you’d last?” you cocked your head, smirking as you sat up on your elbows. “is that a challenge?”

“only if you’re not willing to admit you’d cum first.”

you rolled your eyes. “challenge accepted.”

he squinted, sitting up—already preparing for round two.

hms for links:

1 ❥ 2 ❥ 3

[norrisainz33]

pr || ls18

summary: fans are convinced lance and his victoria secret model gf are just a pr stunt but they’re actually just two best friends in love

pairing: lance stroll x model!reader

fc & warnings: barbara palvin x some hate comments

requested: yes!! thank you for your patience!

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7, and 10,334 others

f1gossip: looks like our very own lance stroll has been spotted with a mystery woman out in montreal ahead of the grand prix this weekend. this is not the first time these two have been spotted together either… perhaps they’re getting a bit more serious and we’ll see her this sunday? if anyone recognizes her, let us know!

view all comments

user1: nauuurrrrr lance that was supposed to be me

user2: we lost another one to a model chat

user3: you mean to tell me you lot don’t recognize the vs angel ynuser when you see her?!

user2: mate all we’ve seen is blurry pics of her hair

user3: she’s got recognizable hair!!!

f1gossip: timelines seem to line up with her posts and where we’ve seen her and lance together! i think you cracked the code user3

user4: it’s giving pr stunt bc how did he manage to get a vs model….

user7: no fr!! either that or she’s with him for daddy’s money

user8: yes this has pr written allllll over it

user5: i hope we DONT see her sunday

ynuser has made a post

liked by yourbff, miumiu, iamrebeccad, victoriassecret, vspink, lance_stroll, flavy.barla, yoursibling and 200,235 others

ynuser: montreal i think i might love you

view all comments

yourbff: holy moly i’m obsessed

user3: mother is mothering (also i called this)

lance_stroll: nice flowers

ynuser: thanks! the person who got them for me is even nicer

f1gossip: 👀

user4: what sorta pr nonsense interaction is this

user12: oooo you’re so effortlessly gorgeous

flavy.barla: 😍 wow!

ynuser: 😘

f1gossip: 👀 x2

user18: i can give you flowers too ya know

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by astonmartinf1, estebanocon, ynuser, chloestroll, robertomerhi, scottyjames31 and 234,456 others

lance_stroll: thankful for the two weeks at home! always great to see the crowd out here in montreal. merci beaucoup canada- on to austria we go 🤍🇨🇦

view all comments

user1: holy heck you are so fine

user2: maple syrup making the dump is sending me

astonmartinf1: maple syrup ✔️ refreshing time at home ✔️ ready to get some points in austria ✔️

ynuser: face so pretty they should be putting YOU on magazine covers

lance_stroll: 🤭 oh stop! we both know you’re the only one fit for magazines and runways

user4: ohh look pr getting even more interactive i see

user11: you look so good in am green

estebanocon: 💪🏻 great weekend mate! thanks for taking me and flavy around canada

lance_stroll: of course mon ami! we love spending time with you guys 🤍

user3: WE?! who is WE

user22: cutie patootie

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7, and 11,344 others

f1gossip: in a recent interview where model, y/n y/l/n, talks through the upcoming vs fashion show she was also asked if there was anyone special who would be in attendance…. she blushed and said: “my partner is going to be there! he has yet to come to any of my shows so i’m really excited that it finally works with his schedule!” we can only assume she’s talking about a certain f1 driver 🤔

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user1: wow how did i not realize how stunning she is

user8: how long do you think we have to put up with this fake relationship

user4: it’s already been way longer than i would have wanted

user3: if it’s pr why are both of them being so secretive? can’t 2 people just be happy? like leave them be

user3: omg lance at the vs show?!?!?!? ain’t no way i can’t WAIT to see him there

user33: f1 driver try not to date a model challenge failed

user4: at least she’s a real model 😭

user12: you lot are miserable in these comments fr. i don’t follow f1 but my girl was mentioned and i do NOT like how yall talking abt her.

user18: welcome to being a lance stan. we live in the trenches but we all love y/n here!! it’s the other fans who are annoying

user12: whelp…. seems i will be going to war for lance

ynuser has posted to their story

view all story replies

user1: this is hot wtf

yourbff: oh!

ynuser: 🤭

yourbff: he got any single friends so i can get this sorta treatment too or.......

ynuser: HAHA i'll ask

user18: a tear just ran down my ….. nvm i’ll keep that one to myself

yoursibling: princess can’t walk on her own?

ynuser: these shoes hurt my feet

yoursibling: of course they do hahahah well im glad hes coming in handy

ynuser: lance is simply the best

user55: just disappointed this ain’t me fr

lance_stroll: i love you baby girl

ynuser: i love you too sweet boy

lance_stroll: you promise?

ynuser: what? of course i do!!

lance_stroll: i've been reading too many of the comment on our posts :(

ynuser: ohhh baby don't do that!! no one knows what our relationship is like besides us and i love you more than words could ever express

lance_stroll: i know its just easier said than done to ignore it sometimes

ynuser: i get it baby i really do and i'm sorry. people will always have an opinion an we can't change that but don't ever doubt just how much i love you 🤍

user16: glad whoever this is is treating you like the queen you are

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7, and 15,674 others

f1gossip: and just like that! it's official. lance has arrived to the victoria's secret fashion show red carpet alongside the gorgeous vs angel, y/n y/l/n.

view all comments

user18: the video of them arriving might be the happiest we’ve seen lance look in like years

user22: this makes my heart so happy

user8: fake fake fake

user12: adopting him and starting to watch f1 was the best decision i made man look at my mom and dad

user18: the strookies are so glad to have you 💚

user4: contracts gotta be almost up after this!!

user3: this is jobless behavior user4

user88: wow she looks incredible and honestly this is one of his best outfits in a while. gf effect is real

lance_stroll has added to his story

view all story replies

chloestroll: how in the world does she always look so perfect

lance_stroll: i ask myself that every day. shes truly beautiful inside and out

chloestroll: my baby brothers in love ❤️‍🔥🥰

lance_stroll: as the kids would say, i'm down bad

user18: hold on is she wrapping your hugo boss jumper around her legs in the second slide!? brb crying

ynuser: thank you for being here! these shows make me so nervous

lance_stroll: there is no place i'd rather be!

flavy.barla: CUTIES!!! did you make sure she got the flowers from este and i?

lance_stroll: of course i did! she cried real tears and said she was going to call you after the show 😘

user8: you and your pr fling ❤️

astonmartinf1: the couple of the century holy moly

lance_stroll: 😉

user12: you better close your eyes every time another model walks by that isnt our queen

ynuser has made a post

liked by lance_stroll, yourbff, astonmartinf1, zendaya, victoriassecret, adrianalima, yoursibling and 324,220 others

ynuser: another vs fashion show in the books! thank you to everyone who made this possible - to the team of incredible stylists, to vs, to my friends for supporting me through this journey and to my darling lance who is always my biggest cheerleader and never says no to milkshakes at midnight. see you same time next year 🤍

view all comments

chloestroll: my favorite angel

ynuser: my favorite stroll 🤍

lance_stroll: hello??????

chloestroll: lance look away this is a private convo

lance_stroll: yeah i’ll be having private convos with you both 😘

ynuser: god forbid the girlies are besties 😔

user12: the milkshake photo im sobbing 😭

lance_stroll: i love being your cheerleader 😘

ynuser: and i love being yours my handsome man 🤍

user24: i’ve never seen someone so gorgeous

flavy.barla: wish este and i could have been there! so proud of you beautiful 😍

ynuser: thank you!!! i can’t wait to see you in cannes 😘

user18: only watched that show for you and god was it worth it

yourbff: IM SO PROUD OF YOU

ynuser: THANK YOU

user27: this is my version of the royal couple

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[dragonlordazuroth]

All these bills and legislations to remove anything deemed "sexual" from public view, under the guise of "protecting the children" is only going to harm kids more. If children are not exposed to reality in a safe and controlled environment, if children are not educated on their own bodies, how they function, how sex is a normal and healthy thing, they will be more vulnerable to sexual exploitation than any well-educated child would be. All these laws will do is criminalize minorities for existing, and, despite the stated intent, make children vulnerable to sexual abuse because they won't know what's happening to them or why when an adult, or even another child, sexually assaults them. They won't have the language needed to describe what happened. And even if they do they'll be ashamed to talk about it because sex and sex-related topics are "obscene".

And even for children who aren't exploited, they will have sex with other children (in this case I'm generally refering to children going through puberty, ie. mainly teenagers but some will be slightly younger) without knowing how to have healthy sexual relationships or the consequences of having sex or how to have safe sex. Teen pregnacy will go up (and with that abortions, legal or not), STD/STI rates will increase, injuries caused by using unsafe objects as sex toys or using actual sex toys incorrectly will increase (especially if sex toys get banned, leading to increased use of improvised objects). Pregnancy, STIs, and injuries may go untreated because of how stigmatized even speaking about sex is.

If I may be extreme for a minute: How far will this go? Will medical diagrams and health class textbooks be censored or banned? Will parents get into legal trouble for trying to educate their children? Will people with breasts be forced to bind their chests if their too noticable? Will women* be forced to wear loose fitting clothes that cover them from neck to ankle because their bodies are "too sexual" to be seen in public? How far will this go, if we let them go through with this.

*anyone who fits the bio-essentialist definition of a woman regardless of their actual gender identity, and anyone who passes as such. Idk how to word it well, but I trust you to know what I mean.

Banning pornography does nothing to protect children, and everything to harm them, as well as oppress minorities. These laws must NOT go through.

Well shit, the Republicans brought a certain anti-online porn bill back to the table.

The Interstate Obscenity Definition Act.

This should alarm you guys.

[ohtobeleah]

https://www.tumblr.com/ohtobeleah/783404264183693312/i-bet-chameleonreader-gives-abbot-the-biggest

robby wants jack to go on a date while he still is not technically divorced? are the boys that stupid and think that’s gonna fix the problems? dana save the day please.

Masterlist

Please! This was too funny. I 100% agree that Dana would hear about this and just side eye the whole situation.

“Nope, I don’t have time for you today.” She groans in the ambulance bay. The cigarette between her fingers is in its last legs.

“Guess who’s got a date?” It’s the smugness. The ‘I cannot believe I’m the person who gets to tell you this.’ In his voice that scares Dana.

“Can't be you,” She shrugs.

“Nope,” Robby confirms Danas first and only guess before he's spewing up the goss. Robbys hands hold each end of the stethoscope that hangs around his neck as he continues. “The bands back together.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Dana nearly chokes. “She did not agree to go on a date with him?”

“Mmhmm, yeah she did.” Robby smirks. Its the shit eating kind. “Breakfast, right now, they are so back.”

But Dana knows. She knows you. This isn't all that its cracked up to be. It can't be. She can't save you from your own self-disruptive tendencies, but she can try avoid it ever happening in the first place...Most of the time.

“I thought I told you not to metal in other people's relationships?” Its the typical scolding Robby is used to. But Dana’s frowning.

“And—I thought I told you that these two are slowly killing each other being separated,” Robby replies like he saved the day.

“No, its killing Jack, because he knows its been hell on earth for that woman to remain sso heavenly after everything he put her through.”

“Hes in therapy.” Robby doesn't have enough daylight to do a deepdive into the complexities that are Jack Abbot. But come on…the guy was actively trying to better himself for you. Surely he's allowed a small amount of grace? Right?

Wrong.

“Big woop, god you doctors give me the shits.” But there's something Dana isn't disclosing. Robby can tell. He can see it in her eyes. There's a secret. An almost forbidden element to her reaction that peaks Robbys interest.

“Dana…what aren't you telling me here? Why is it a bad thing Y/n agreed to breakfast?” There's a moment to of silence that lingers. It's still and foreboding. Robby knows its something serious.

“Sorry,” Its not her place to tell. “HIPA”

[princesssmars]

thinking some more on this idea of caitvi x high femme reader <3

nsfw. fxfxf relationship + smut. reader is ofc high femme, portrayed as wearing feminine clothes, wearing makeup, etc. switch reader, normally tops but switches caitvi. oral and fingering (cait receiving), mentions of reader and vi receiving.

wc : 2.262

"darling i really don't think we should be- oh, oh..."

"come on, caity, i cant help it, you looked so pretty."

you knew you would be in big trouble for this later, but you knew it would be so worth it.

you loved your girlfriends, truly, you did. there was an unbreakable bond between the three of you after these few years spent loving and crying and laughing together, and each day you woke up feeling like the luckiest woman on the planet.

but sometimes you just loved to push them.

your previous partners had been rather... uncompromising, when it came to your dramatic style. they didn't understand how you managed to wear makeup nearly every day, why you bothered wearing such bright and girly outfits, not to mention the maintenance costs just for your hair.

but when you met caitlyn and violet it just seemed to click. caitlyn had grown up around the upper echelon, already accustomed to the intense grooming and pampering that went into your looks.

vi had seen it done, was used to living around and with people who had to get crafty to upkeep with the latest trends, but she hadn't seen it done to your scale. you could still remember the first time you slept over and the bewildered but curious expression she wore when witnessing your extensive skincare routine and the process of wrapping up your hair for the night.

"you're not exhausted after all that?"

"why, are your propositioning me?"

"well i wasn't but now i am-"

yet no matter what, they remained completely supportive of your lifestyle. they helped move in all of your pink and pastel furniture and knick-knacks into their shared apartment, caitlyn routinely buying you your favorite flowers to decorate the space. you even somehow managed to rope the two of them into attending a pilates class with you, barely holding in your amusement when you returned home, only for the both of them to flop onto the couch.

but as selfish as it sounded, you really loved when they paid for your stuff.

vi had more of a hands-off off at first when it came to your beauty and upkeep, sending you a quick cash-app payment every other week and telling you to 'do whatever it is that makes you always look so pretty, and send me a few photos after'.

you had attempted to include her in the process of it all more, showing her a lost of nail shapes and styles and asking which she thought would look best on you.

"soooo, what do you think?"

"uhhhh...whichever you like best."

"cmon, vi!" you groan, nudging her shoulder with yours.

"alright, alright! then how about...these ones?" her finger points to the screen, hovering above the first shape.

"vi, that's 'natural', that's what my nails already look like!" you groan.

"and they're pretty, just like you are." she presses a comedic and sloppy fat kiss to your cheek, giggling when you squeal about her messing up your makeup.

you decide on your own, hiding your nails after your appointment until you drag her into your bedroom, laying her down on the bed and gently commanding her to stay in place. she's excited at first, cocky smile gracing her face as she watches you remove your clothes, until she spots them.

she never thought of herself as the most possessive person, but seeing your fuschia colored fingers tugging down your panties and dragging them up and down your cunt, your wetness visible even from the other side of the bed.

you wore that nail color often after that, always with the knowledge that it'd end up with vi's face buried in your pussy as your hands gripped onto her hair, begging and thrashing as she kept begging for you to cum just one more time. if you were lucky she'd even let you rub her clit until it was nearly unbearable, the sight of your bright pink nails bringing her to a hot release making it all that more intense.

caitlyn, on the other hand, understood your beauty practices quite well. she had been born and raised in a world where appearances were everything, so she wasn't at all surprised by your constantbeauty and fashion regimens. she would even participate on occasion, both of you helping each other with your daily makeup looks and planning spa days so you could relax together.

and, when she was feeling extra indulgent, she sponsored your extravagant shopping sprees. you could confidently say a fourth of your closet was paid for by your girlfriend, the blue haired woman dismissing your unserious insistence that you could pay for your own things with a wave of her hand, a kiss to your cheek and a firm 'get in the car, love." before you were both off.

but just because she had control over the spending didn't mean she had control over you.

when it came to your sex life, you were definitely a bit of a princess. it wasn't like you didn't enjoy watching your butch and femme fall apart underneath or above you, but when they constantly insisted on bringing you to your peaks first it wad hard to flip the tide over the two of them.

but you had noticed the shift in caitlyn as soon as you woke up, how her long limbs held tighter to you to silently persuade you to stay in bed just a little bit longer, how she stayed shoulder to shoulder with you in the kitchen while she prepared some morning tea for the both of you, and how her face seemed to flush when you asked her to come into the first dressing room with you.

caitlyn was feeling needy, you were feeling horny, and there was a victoria's secret just down the way of the mall. was there a better combination?

"let's go in here, cait. i still need some new bras after a certain someone we know tore some of mine off too roughly."

caitlyn giggled at the memory of your girlfriend ruining your underwear, but you could feel her arm tense under the hold of your hands.

"if you say so, my love. you know i'll buy you whatever you need or want."

"awww you're too sweet to me. but i think i'm gonna need you to come try them on with me."

"you cant be serious."

"please, caity? for me?"

and when your hands came up to either side of her face and brought it down just the slightest bit, standing on your toes so you could press a slow kiss to her lips, you already knew she wouldn't be able to say no.

"well, i suppose if it's what you need..."

it was just too easy. just as easy as it was to pick out some matching bras that you knew would look great on the both of you, and just as easy as it was to sneak caitlyn into your dressing room and get her like this.

"darling please, i don't think i can, f-fuck-"

your response is muffled by your mouth being buried into her cunt, tongue wiggling around inside her hole until her hand is coming down to your head and digging into your hair. for a second, you think about how cute it is that she's having a miniature dilemma about her pleasure, at one moment yanking you away before pushing you right back into her.

you decide to test her by lifting your face away from her pussy, already yearning for her taste to be back in your mouth but settling for licking off the remnants of it that sit around your lips.

"c'mon, caity. aren't you and vi always telling be to 'be good and take it'? what, can dish it but you cant take it?"

a high-pitched whine bubbles out of the brit before she's raising one hand to brush her hair out of her face and the other hand up to her mouth, one knuckle between her teeth as she helplessly tries to muffle her moans lest you both get caught and banned from the store.

your teasing wasn't pulled out of thin air, though. you'd need multiple hands to count the amount of times cait had brushed off your pleads and mewls when she insisted on bringing you to come just five one more time, to be a good girl for her and vi and listen without crying.

it was completly empowering and sent a rush of heat to your head and your cunt to see just how badly she took the roles being reversed.

cait's never been the quickest to bring over the edge, requiring a bit more finesse and care before she had a lengthy and powerful release. neither you nor vi minded it, always delighted to see her shake and bite her lip as she gradually felt the pleasure you'd brought her increase over the span of a beautifully drawn-out minute. but right now, you genuinely needed her to come, because yeah, you really weren't trying to get kicked out of this store before you got to buy your cute new sets.

so you start to work her even harder, gently adding your fingers to the mix as your manicured nails curled and prodded inside of her tight heat. you immediately noticed the shift, how her long legs start to tremble and her breath starts to stutter while still in her chest. in desperation her hand that's not muffling her sounds comes back down to your hair and digs in, pushing you back and forth as she downright fucks your face.

and oh, do you take all of it, tongue sticking out for her to grind into as your eyes look up at her, because if one person loves to lock eyes during sex, it's caitlyn kiramman. you make eye contact as her eyebrows scrunch up and she mindlessly starts nodding since she's unable to whisper out any pleas for you to keep going, like you'd even think of stopping now.

your fingers crook and push against that spot deep inside her, thrusting in and out as your other hand circles at her clit, happy little giggles ringing from your throat when she finally comes in your mouth. she fucks into your mouth harder, eyes squeezing shut as her hand that was in your hair slaps on the door to hold herself up and her orgasm absolutely wrecks her.

it's a beautiful and delightful minute of having your gorgeous girlfriend release and shake as she tries her hardest to be as quiet as possible, ending when she un-gracefully plops down onto the dressing room seat.

you peacefully lick her release off of your fingers, making sure to clean off whatever is left on your face before fixing up your clothes and hair. by the time you finish, you turn to cait, only to see her still looking downright shell-shocked. you giggle when she wistfully blinks up at you as you carefully move some streaks of her navy hair from her face, pressing a lingering kiss to her bitten lips and smiling when she follows your mouth after you pull away.

"you look so pretty all fucked out for me, caity."

she groans, resting her head in your shoulder. "please don't rub it in. you're so...tempting, do you know that? i swear one day you'll be the death of me."

"well i sure hope not, that means i wouldn't get to make you tremble like a leaf for me again."

after a few more teases and helping make sure caitlyn looks and walks presentable enough to leave, you gleefully wrap your hands around her arm and head to the checkout counter, placing the items on the counter and perkily swiping caits card over the reader.

when you return home you feel like you're floating on air, skipping through the doorway before squealing and jumping into vi's arms when you see her standing in the kitchen.

"woah there, muffin. looks like someone had a good day, huh?"

you nod up at her, taking a glance back at cait who totally not suspiciously rushes into the bedroom with your bags still in her hands.

vi raises an eyebrow, looking at your girlfriend's retreating body before turning back to you, waiting for your answer.

and yeah, you could play coy, spare caitlyn the embarrassment, and pretend she was just feeling tired from a long day out shopping. but when the memory of her pretty face looking down at you buried in her cunt runs across your mind again, you decide you'll take your chances.

"caitlyn took me shopping so i ate her out in the dressing room."

vi's staring at you with her mouth agape, at first unbelieving, before she hears a loud accented groan from deeper in the apartment that only confirms your statement. she begins trailing after you when you start to head into the bedroom to take a relaxing bath after such a long day.

"oh, so this is what i miss after passing on your bra shopping? you two better invite me next time, and i mean it. i'll cram all of us in a dressing room if I have to."

[verdancy-hime]

No matter what you do people will say it's not true to yourself or sincere enough and then they will use that as an excuse to harm your soul while they lie their assess off about everything.

Never let anyone tell you that it's possible to not be true to yourself or betray yourself or lose yourself those people just hate you and want an excuse to blame you for things.

The most common time people accuse someone of losing themselves is when they get overworked or traumatized and they don't act how they did before being overworked or traumatized but it's inconvenient to mention that anyone would act that way if they were living the life that person is living because it means people would have to change something so they just say you used to be one person now you lost your self and now you're another person and maybe someone else out in the wide world gets to be you instead.

Like with mothers, or people in abusive relationships that don't involve physical violence we often accuse them of losing themselves. They didn't lose themselves they are doing what anyone would do in the situation they're in.

It's also funny how often we use that term and "letting yourself go" which implies that a woman's self is actually like her weight and fitness level and her haircut or whatever.

But it's also used with people in jobs. You lost yourself because you bought different clothes to fit in better at work and no matter how hard you tried to make sure they are things that still make you happy and suit your tastes you're not yourself any more- this is still always used as part of a suite of weird little sayings that tell you that all of this is your fault even though most people change to fit a new environment all their lives. Somehow you were supposed to know that this environment was different this time. Way, way, way, way in advance with no clear warning sign. Actually you buying a new water bottle to take to work should have been when you quit and now whatever happened is your fault and you can't complain this is happening to teach you a lesson that you need to watch out because this type of thing could happen and you need to constantly watch for the red flags here is a list of red flags.

Wait, you think we should make it harder for this type of thing to happen to people or easier to get people who do it to face jail time? No you need to practice healing and letting go that urge for revenge is toxic and low vibe and will attract bad things into your life try keeping a gratitude journal ✨️ and also remember not to talk about the red flags or think about them too hard because you will be attracting more negativity into your life actually you should try to have an open heart and just do what I tell you specifically to do and then you'll be safe. And also have you considered buying my $800 introductory course?

be sincere and true to yourself or suffer soul death you don’t have any other choices

[covenofagatha]

Agnes x reader age gap headcanons (NSFW)

Writing is hard right now but I'm having thoughts about a coworker/age gap (where agnes is a bit insecure about it) agnes x reader relationship so thought I'd just bullet point them to get it out lol but I might try to write the whole thing at some point

You've known Agnes from afar for a long time but you've gotten closer to her over the past few weeks now and even though you're about twenty-five years younger than her and new on the police force, you both get along very well

She's a tough nut to crack and known as the sarcastic grump around the station but you always manage to make her laugh

It's hard to tell how she feels because sometimes she's cold but sometimes she pats you on the knee and invites you to her office so you can sit there while she works

You like to tease her and be a little bit of a brat towards her but you think that she likes it

Someone tells her that she "looks good for her age" and she's a bit offended so you crack jokes about it because she's the hottest woman you know and it's easy to hide that if you say it sarcastically (but you also want her to know that she's attractive)

She calls you "kid" sometimes and you know that you shouldn't like it as much as you do and it's supposed to put some distance between the two of you but you think she might like calling you that too

At the end of the quarter, a few officers go out to a bar to celebrate and the only reason you go along is because Agnes is going

You talk to her the whole time, but what's more important is that she wants to talk to you the whole time

Two drinks later, you're a bit tipsy and being overly touchy with her and she says, "Didn't take you for a lightweight, kid." And because you're not thinking clearly, you tell her that you just want her attention

She smirks and says, "You always have it" and your stomach heats up with a mix of the alcohol and the sentiment

You don't remember much after that but you do know that you end up almost sitting in her lap without a care in the world about if anyone else sees you

The humid air sobers you up when it's time to leave and you slowly walk next to Agnes to where your cars are parked (because you parked right next to hers just to make the evening last longer) and you're desperate to keep her here with you

But she just leans against the hood of her police cruiser because maybe, just maybe, she doesn't want to leave yet either

The conversation becomes more flirtatious on both sides and you're so close to her that your knees are brushing against hers and you can still smell the beer on her mouth

She says something funny and flattering and the faint buzzing in your brain overrides all logic and you lean into kiss her softly

"Come on, kid, you don't want someone old like me," she scoffs

You show her just how much you do by wrapping your arms over her shoulders and riding her thigh right there in the parking lot until you come

Her hands dig into your hips to guide you while she grunts in your ear and all you can think about is how thankful you are that you both parked far away from everyone else

"Not bad for someone your age," you quip after her pant leg is drenched with your wetness and she barks out a laugh before spanking your ass and pulling you into the backseat of her car to fuck you properly

She likes to pack while at work and make sure you know about it from the beginning of the day and then tease you by pressing against you and making suggestive comments but she doesn't give you any relief until work is over

It's absolute torture but there's something so rewarding about sinking to your knees under her desk after everyone else leaves to pull the toy out from her pants and look up at her through your eyelashes while you suck on it and she gives you praises through gritted teeth

"Such a good slut" and "you're sucking on my cock so good, hon" and "what a desperate whore for someone twice your age" and "come on, kid, I know you can take more"

You straddle her in her chair and ride her until she picks you up and lays you on her desk and fucks you hard and rough and then both of you come all over her police reports that you distract her from doing

The chief makes comments about how they're always sticky when she turns them in and you just snicker while Agnes glares at you

You make it up to her by getting under her desk during your lunch break and eating her out until she comes all over your face twice and has to actively pull you away while you're going for a third time because she's too sensitive

"Kid, you're going to kill me," she says, trying to sound gruff but her voice is thick

You smirk and lean your wet cheek against the inside of her knee. "Too old for more?"

Agnes frowns and you know you're going to pay for that later, but it's completely worth it

You make sure to tell her how hot she is all the time because you know she gets a little insecure about her age but she can't call you a liar because you'll just drag her hand down between your legs so she can feel for herself just how hot you find her

The age stuff stops bothering her after a little bit

[hueningholic]

PARK JONGSEONG who simply needs to take you right in the fitting room of your favorite store.

ꔫ MDNI. cw. est relationship, rich!husband jay x needy f!reader, public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it), creampie, praise, petnames (baby, pretty, angel, beautiful, sexy, good girl), hints at being caught, reader is a bit insecure about her dress choice, loving pjs

every few months jay's workplace would host a fancy dinner for everyone who worked hard under their name. people who were loyal to the company, usually more discreet. each one, he would invite you with him to celebrate his good work. but also, simply to show off his gorgeous wife.

you'd spent several days complaining about not having any more nice dresses to flaunt to the events, your husband listening to every word of frustration that felt from your lips. "let's go shopping, then. that dress store you love. my treat."

so here you two were, jay leaning against the wall outside of the fitting room area waiting for you to showcase every one that you'd picked. he adored your taste almost as much as he adored you-- the way every inch of fabric hugged your waist, and how the silk fell perfectly between your cleavage. not only did he love to spoil you, but it was almost like a gift for himself, as well.

"what about this one? i don't know.." you questioned as you stepped out of the room, turning in a 360 to let him judge. a soft hum sounded from jay, eyes scanning left and right to see if anyone was around before stepping closer to you. you wore (your favorite color) so well, he couldn't resist how the dress cut out in the back and just barely managed to keep your breasts from spilling out of the sides.

"i know, though." he moved you into the fitting room, taking another moment to glance behind him to make sure no one saw him go in with you. all clear. his hands ran up to clasp around your shoulders as he stood behind you, giving you both the perfect view of seeing yourself in the mirror. "see that beautiful woman? she looks so fucking sexy in this dress, she drives her husband insane." his voice was low and husky against your nape, causing shivers down your spine.

"jay-- what if someone hears?" you slightly panicked as his lips connected to your neck, leaving soft trails of kisses in their wake. "well, i guess we'll have to find you a new store to fawn over." all he did was tease, hands dropping from your shoulders to slip right into the sides of the fabric. your bare tits rested beneath his palms, groping you so perfectly that you couldn't help but close your eyes in renewed pleasure.

"fuck, look at me, y/n." he slipped a hand out to grip your chin, your eyes opening to see your reflections once more. "you make me so messy, i just can't hold back.." jay whispered into your ear, nibbling quickly on your earlobe before sloppily fumbling his bottoms down. his cock sprang out, entirely hard as the veins seemed to already pulse. the lighting of the fitting room giving it so much more attention than the dim ones in your shared bedroom do. you couldn't help but stare in awe, causing jay to chuckle softly.

abruptly, he pushed you against the mirror. hands pressed up against the reflective glass as he slid up the dress with the tag still hanging from it. he didn't bother pushing your soaked panties down, just to the side as he lined himself up at your entrance. "jay, please.. please take me.." you whimpered, pleading as your pussy leaked over his tip.

"have to keep quiet if you want to cum, baby. can you do that for me, yeah? such a good girl.." his voice was barely audible, but you understood everything. he sunk into you with one thrust, your head darting backwards from the stretch. his fingers traced up your revealed spine, his breath catching in his throat from just how turned on he could become by your figure alone.

he moved at a fast pace, hard enough that your barely covered breasts slapped against the mirror with each thrust. when he found your sensitive spot, you couldn't take it anymore-- ripping out a sound so pornographic, that the new coming voices surrounding the room outside had fallen flat.

his eyebrows furrowed, hand roughly slapping over your mouth as your eyes rolled back. "what did i say, angel? you're going to be left unsatisfied if you can't shut that pretty mouth." he whispered huskily, hips starting to stutter as he neared his high. you, were about to come undone, too.

strands of his slicked back hair now laid against his forehead, beads of sweat forming down his face as he gripped your hip with his available hand. you looked at the mirror, and the sight enough had you clenching his cock, wanting to milk him for whatever it was worth.

your scream muffled into his hand, creaming around his length as he pumped his own seed deep into you, tossing his head back with a strained groan. he stirred his cock inside of you a few more times before pulling out, watching how his pearlescent release trickled down your soft leg. "fuck, y/n. you're just perfect." jay rambled, leaning down to kiss your shoulder blade.

as you two finally resituated yourselves, you knew you'd found the dress. he would buy it for you with zero hesitation of your choice. "thank you, jjong." you reached for his hand and planted a gentle kiss on the top of it, causing him to smile warmly down at you.

"whatever you need, baby. anytime. i love you, and buying you things makes me feel all the more fulfilled." you two exited the fitting room in the clothes you arrived in, almost as if all care left your systems as the mortified faces of fellow shoppers around you noticed. the only thing left to verify their suspicions being the handprints you'd left behind on that fitting room mirror. "i love you too. kisses when we get home, right?"

"just said, whatever you need."

[non-binary-lil-star]

OKAY so as you said, I was thinking trans man but this is awesome as well!!! MAY I ADD

Gotham's elite would be mad at her for coming out but her villains would be 100% okay with it

Why?? You ask me. GIRL (gender neutral) I HAVE PROOF

I bring you: Gotham's moron ass goons seeing Cass as Batgirl and thinking Bruce had an operation. There's also that time black mask called him a 'costumed drag queen' but unfortunately I don't have that print.

Aside from Gotham's nasty elite the only person that would be mad would be Kate because, fuck you shes Batwoman! Then she would realize that they can just switch, she can become butch lesbian Batman and Bruce can become batwoman.

Also, this fits in perfectly with my Bruce Wayne whore theory that goes as follows (I'm gonna use she/her to implement the transfem hc here):

. Bruce has a one night stand with two circus performers one night she's visiting the circus to see the local artists WE supports. She doesn't hear that the wife later got pregnant 🫢

. She has a very fleeting relationship with this woman she suspects is working with the Joker. Doesn't find anything. The woman is long distance with this guy who ends up marrying another woman. How would she make the connection between them?

. She has several one night stands (she's on her hot girl summer ok) with an archeologist. Later finds out said archeologist is married but she and the husband are always fighting. Husband finds out about the affair but he was cheating as well. The couple goes together into business with Two Face and Batman ends up having to investigate them. Can't prove their crimes and breaks up her fling with the archeologist. Archeologist is pregnant and everyone assumes it's the husband's. Oops.

. Probably my favorite, but do you know how Talia Al Ghul self impregnated? Shiva goes for something like that, but, instead of stealing the seeds of one person she kidnaps several and impregnated herself with the seeds of men she considers to be 'good enough for her child". Whatever sperm wins the race is clearly the best. She doesn't know who the father of the child actually is but David Cain ends up finding out about it, thinks the kid is his, and decides to train her. And you know, why not? She let's him think whatever he wants. If the kid is not biologically his that's nobody's business. This is my favorite conspiracy theory because it is something I can actually imagine dc doing.

. And then obviously there's Damian who everyone knows is her bio son.

. I know there's Duke as well but I haven't gotten to his part in the comics so I can formulate a theory there. :(

Anywayyy I can also imagine that Bruce, who was raised in the toxic environment of Gotham's wealthiest, is uncomfortable facing backlash on this. She's Batman, sure, but it's different. She made herself something Gotham would adore as a mask to hide her true work. How does she get rid of that?

HOWEVER Gotham's news finds out about Tim being bisexual and somehow gets a picture of Caroline Hill (Tim doing drag, I have prints). Going after her is one thing, but her son?? AH HELL NO she goes feral

This is my dc contribution for the day, thank you for coming to my Ted talk, all additions are welcome and encouraged

Hc all the batkids decide to give Bruce Happy Mothers day as a prank

. Dick comes up with the idea and gets everyone to sign a Happy Mother's Day card that he made

. Jason buys him a watch with a small card saying "Happy Mother's day, loser"

. Cass buys him a mug that says "Best Mother in the world" (Shiva will later find out and fistfight Bruce because of it)

. Tim makes a gadget that Bruce had projected but had no time to actually build, and leaves it on his desk in a small gift box

. Duke has No Idea how other people are going about the prank and decides to buy him flowers

. Damian paints Martha Wayne (Tim helps by finding him several reference pictures)

They all think they're going to make Bruce Very Uncomfortable. Because well, he's not a mother. He's their father. Guys, Bruce starts sobbing by the end of the day. He hugs them and won't let go. Plan sucessfully backfired.

[cowboybeepboop]

Dazed

“Princess, we really have to sleep now.”

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut, romantic, friends to lovers

Word count: 6k

Summary: You share a bed with Tyler while on the road.

Warnings: Slow burn????, miscommunication trope, oral: male and fem receiving, p in v, unprotected sex.

a/n: Hope y'all enjoy <3 My requests are open, as always!

The engine of the battered pickup truck rumbled, a steady rhythm that matched the thump of your heart in your chest. Raindrops danced across the windshield, each a brief sparkle before the wipers swept them away. Tyler Owens, your best friend and the internet's favorite Tornado Wrangler, gripped the steering wheel, his eyes glued to the road ahead. The headlights carved a tunnel of light through the dark, storm-soaked night. His profile, silhouetted against the dashboard's glow, was as familiar to you as the back of your own hand.

In the backseat, Boone and Lily were lost in their own world, their voices a low murmur of excitement recounting the day's chase. The electricity of the storms had carried over into their banter, their laughter echoing off the plastic interior. You couldn't help but smile at their boundless energy. They were the yin to your yang, the thrill-seekers to your analytical mind.

The truck's tires crunched over gravel as Tyler steered into the motel parking lot. The neon sign flickered above, casting an eerie glow over the puddles that had formed in the dips of the asphalt. Raindrops tapped a staccato beat on the metal roof as the wind picked up. The motel looked like a tired old warrior that had seen too many battles, but it was home for the night. Tyler put the truck in park and turned off the engine, the sudden silence punctuated only by the distant rumble of thunder.

You grabbed your backpack and climbed out, stretching your legs. Your knees popped from the hours spent in the cramped space. Boone and Lily followed, their excitement not dampened by the rain. You all dashed towards the office, the cold air biting at your skin. Inside, the warmth and the smell of stale coffee greeted you. The clerk, a woman with a beehive hairdo, squinted at you over her glasses. She looked like she'd been there since the dawn of time, her expression a mix of boredom and skepticism.

While Tyler checked in, you pulled out your phone, the screen lighting up your face in the dimly lit room. A flurry of notifications fluttered down, a mix of weather updates and messages from your friends and family worrying about your safety. You quickly typed out a reassuring reply to your mom, promising to stay safe and out of the storm's path, despite the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You felt a pang of guilt for not calling her sooner.

As Tyler approached, a single key dangled from his calloused fingers, catching the light. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged. The tension in your relationship was as palpable as the storm outside. He smirked, the corner of his mouth tugging upward, and you couldn't help but feel a jolt of attraction.

"Looks like we're bunking together," he said, his voice low and gruff. "They only had one room left." Tyler's smirk widened as he saw the mixture of emotions flash across your face.

The close quarters of a motel room for the night were bound to create a test of boundaries and emotions. "Don't worry," he added, a hint of genuine reassurance in his voice, "I can always sleep on the floor if you're uncomfortable." Although the offer was sincere, a part of him hoped you'd say no.

“Are you sure you won't mind sleeping on the floor?” you were secretly grateful that he suggested it, knowing you wouldn't be able to sleep if he was in the same bed as you. You walk toward the stairs, heading to the room with Tyler hot on your heels.

Tyler chuckled under his breath at your concern. Of course, he didn't want to sleep on the floor, but he could tell you were relieved by the offer. The thought of spending the night so close to you made his heart race, but he'd never admit it.

"Nah, it's no big deal," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant, masking the disappointment as he followed you up the creaking stairs. "I've slept in worse places."

The motel room was small and cramped. The only source of light came from a single, flickering bulb in the ceiling, casting a dim glow across the room. You jump onto the bed, immediately relaxing into the mattress with a sigh.

“Thank you.” you murmur, voice muffled by the bedding. Tyler chuckled again at the sight of you on the bed, your body sinking into the cheap motel mattress. He leaned his tall frame against the closed door, watching you with a mixture of amusement and something deeper.

"No problem." He said, his voice betraying a hint of fondness beneath his typical gruff exterior. "You deserve a comfortable night's sleep after dealing with me and those storms all day."

“Dealing with you is easy,” you turn over on the mattress, stretching out your limbs with a soft moan.

Tyler's eyes traced your form as you shifted on the bed, the soft moan escaping your lips sending a jolt of electricity through him. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the effect your casual movement had on him.

"Easy, huh," he teased, his voice slightly strained. "That's good to hear. Sometimes I think I drive you crazy."

“Nah, not at all.” you sit up, grinning at him. “Don’t tell anyone else but you’re my favorite.” you slip out of your shoes.

Tyler's heart skipped a beat at your words, his rugged exterior faltering momentarily. He quickly regained his composure, a smirk spreading across his handsome face as he crossed his arms across his broad chest.

"Oh, am I your favorite, huh? Sounds like I've grown on you." He teased, leaning a shoulder against the wall, the soft glow from the light highlighting the sharp line of his jaw.

You giggle in response, “Close your eyes, I need to change.” you reach for your bag, pulling a t-shirt out. He groans in protest, but closes them nonetheless. You pull at your wet clothes, slipping out of your shirt and pants.

Tyler's breath hitches in his throat as he peeks through his half-closed eyelid, his gaze raking over your bare back. The air in the room suddenly feels thicker, charged with an undertone of want he can't quite ignore.

He quickly snaps his eyes shut, his heart hammering in his chest. He tries to ignore the images now seared in his mind, the way your skin had appeared in the dim light, the faint curve of your silhouette. You slip your t-shirt on, covering up your damp skin.

“Okay, you're good to open your eyes.” you smile warmly. “We should get your floor bed set up before it gets too much later..” you yawn softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs still bare.

Tyler opens his eyes, the sight of your bare legs sending another jolt through him. He quickly looks away, trying to regain his composure and focus on the task at hand. "Right," he says, his voice gruff. "Let's get that floor set up."

He grabs an extra blanket from the closet, shaking it out as he walks over to the floor next to the bed. He lays it down, his movements slightly stiff and awkwardly, his mind still occupied with the images of your naked back.

You help him put things together, placing the towels on the floor for some padding and placing a pillow down for him. “You’re sure you don't want me to sleep on the floor?”

Tyler waves away your concern, his usual rough demeanor slipping back into place. "No, it's fine," he reassures you, a hint of stubbornness in his voice. "You take the bed. I've slept in worse places."

He sits down on the makeshift bed, testing the thickness with a hand before laying down and folding his arms behind his head. You turn the light off and slip under the covers, “Okay, Goodnight Ty.” you murmur, voice soft as you cuddle into the sheets.

Tyler watches as you settle into the bed, the dim light casting shadows across your face. He swallows hard, the urge to reach out and touch you almost overwhelming.

"Good night," he replies gruffly, his voice thick. "Get some sleep."

He shifts on the floor, the makeshift bed feeling even more uncomfortable now that you're so close yet so far. He turns over, facing away from you, the silence in the room deafening.

Almost 30 minutes have gone by with you restless and shivering with the coldness of the room. You toss and turn in the bed, mind focused on Tyler laying on the floor, you sigh while biting down on your lip. You move to the edge of the mattress, looking down at his body.

“Tyler?” you whisper his name, reaching down to touch his arm gently. “Are you still awake?” Tyler jolts slightly at the feel of your touch, his senses on high alert. He'd been trying to sleep, his mind stubbornly refusing to quiet down, especially with you in such close proximity.

He turns over, his gaze meeting yours in the dark. The shadows of his face are sharp and defined, his eyes reflecting the scant light. "Yeah," he replies quietly, his voice gruff. "I'm awake. What's wrong?"

“I can't sleep…” you mutter, “I’m too cold...” Tyler's expression softens at your words, his gruff exterior melting away. He can hear the note of vulnerability in your voice, the quiet admission of discomfort sending a pang through his chest.

"You’re cold?" he asks unnecessarily, already knowing the answer. He hesitates for a moment, his mind battling with his body’s need to be close to you. He sits up with a sigh, pushing the blanket off him. "Move over."

You scoot over, giving him space on the bed. Tyler stands and crawls into the bed next to you, the mattress shifting under his weight. The small bed suddenly feels even tinier with his large frame next to you. He lies on his back, keeping a small gap between the two of you.

"You're always so damn cold," he mutters, wrapping an arm behind his head. "You gonna be able to sleep now?" you move to his side, cuddling into his body as you rest your cheek on his chest.

“Mhm,” your legs press into his as you exhale contentedly. Tyler's eyes snap open as you cuddle into his side, your soft body molding against him. A rush of sensations wash over him, the feeling of your skin against his, the weight of your head on his chest. He stiffens slightly as you press your legs into his, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through him.

He tries to steady his breathing, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing. He clears his throat, the sound harsh in the quiet of the room. "You're... comfortable like this?" he asks, his voice slightly strained.

“Are you not?” you pull away slightly, looking up at him with widened eyes. Tyler's heart clenches at your question, the sight of your wide, concerned eyes looking up at him sending a pang through his chest.

"No," he replies gruffly, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I'm not uncomfortable...just..." He pauses, trying to find the words. The truth is, he's struggling to cope with the onslaught of emotions swirling inside him.

The feel of your body against him, your soft scent swirling around him...it's too much, and yet it's not enough. "Don't move.." you cuddle back into his side, breasts pressing into him as your hand rests on his abdomen.

Tyler's breath hitches in his throat as you press into him, the feel of your body against his, sending his mind reeling. He curses internally, his body reacting against his will, the heat in his gut flaring hotter.

He tries to concentrate on breathing, to not give in to the desire coursing through him. "Just... stay like this for a while..."

Tyler watches as you fall asleep, a mixture of relief and disappointment washing over him. He had been fighting the entire time to keep his feelings under control, his body yearning for you in a way he hadn't felt before.

Tyler's eyes are fixed on the ceiling, the silence of the room broken only by your soft breathing. He's hyper-aware of every movement you make, his senses on high alert.

As you shift away from him, turning onto your side, his body instinctively follows, moving closer to yours. Without thinking, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back against his body. You unconsciously press back against him, your ass rubbing against his crotch as you cuddle into his warm grasp.

Tyler clenches his jaw, his breath catching in his throat as you press back against him, your firm backside grinding into his groin. Unbidden, images flood his mind, his body reacting eagerly to the contact.

"Jesus," he mutters, his voice gruff and strained. "You're driving me insane..."

He clenches his fist, the feel of your body against his making his mind spin. He tries to shift away, to give himself some distance, but your warmth is drawing him in, making it impossible to think straight.

His words startle you awake, along with the hardness pressing into your body. Your eyes widen as you realize the position the two of you are in, breathing quickening.

Tyler immediately curses himself as he feels you stir in his arms, realizing he had spoken aloud. He can feel your body stiffen against him, the change in your breathing sending a mixture of desire and panic through him.

He quickly pulls away, disentangling himself from you as best he can. He sits up on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Sorry..." he mutters gruffly, his voice thick with tension. "Didn't mean to wake you.." you turn over looking at his bare back. You feel warmness pooling in your stomach as your eyes flick over his twitching muscles.

You reach out, brushing your fingertips over his spine. “Ty?” Tyler's body tenses as he feels your fingertips brushing against his spine. A shiver runs through him at the contact, his body responding eagerly despite his turmoil.

He's hyper-aware of your presence behind him, your touch sending a jolt through his body. The heat radiating off his skin is almost palpable.

"Yeah?" he replies gruffly, his voice hoarse. His shoulders are taut, muscles bunching under your touch.

You sit up, resting on your knees as you come up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. “Where are you going?” you murmur, cheek pressing into his shoulder.

Tyler's breath catches in his throat as you wrap your arms around his waist, your body pressing into his back. The feel of your skin against his, the gentle warmth of your cheek against his shoulder...it's all he can do not to turn and pull you into his lap.

Tyler's breath hitches as you wrap your arms around his waist, the feel of your body pressed against his back sending a shot of heat straight through him. He's painfully aware of your closeness, your scent filling his senses, your skin warm against his.

He stiffens instinctively, his body struggling to reconcile the overwhelming desire with the need to keep control. "Nowhere," he mutters gruffly, his voice low. "Just need a minute..."

“A minute?” you run a hand down his abs, fingertips brushing over his muscles. “Should I give you some space?” you murmur.

Tyler's breath hitches again, your touch leaving a trail of fire on his skin. He clenches his jaw, every nerve ending in his body screaming for more of your touch.

But he knows he needs to maintain control. He can't give in to the raw desire coursing through him. "Probably.." he manages through gritted teeth, his voice strained. "Need to cool off.."

You reluctantly pull away, laying back on the bed with your back to him once again. Disappointment written on your face as you hug a pillow, cuddling into the sheets.

He turns, watching as you hug a pillow, cuddling into the mattress. He fights the impulse to reach out, to pull you back into his arms. Instead, he clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white.

"Hey..." he murmurs gruffly, his voice softer than before. He reaches out a hand, gently placing it on your shoulder. "Don't... don’t take it the wrong way, okay? It's not you. It's... me."

“It’s okay..” you slip out of bed, heading toward the bathroom. Closing the door you sink down against it, silently cursing yourself for what happened.

Tyler watches as you head into the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click. He exhales deeply, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration. He can’t stand the thought of you closing yourself off from him, the sight of you pulling away feeling like a punch to the gut.

He stands and walks over to the door, gently knocking on it. “Hey... can I come in?” you stay silent, resting your chin on your knees as you move away from the door. Incase he tries to open it.

Tyler hears your silence, the lack of response causing his heart to sink further. He takes a deep breath, his knuckles rapping on the door again.

"C'mon... you're freakin' me out here," he tries to joke, his voice strained. "I just need to see you, to talk to you. Just for a minute. Please..."

“The door is unlocked…” you murmur, voice nearly a whisper.

Tyler's heart skips a beat as he hears your soft voice, the sound like music to his ears despite the circumstances. He slowly turns the handle, pushing open the door. He steps into the bathroom, his gaze immediately falling on your form huddled on the floor. He drops down beside you, keeping a small space between you.

“There you are,” he says quietly, relief flooding through him at the sight of you. You bite your lip, staying curled up seeking comfort in your own body.

“Can..” you begin, voice cracking. “Can we just pretend nothing happened?” You keep your gaze trained on the floor.

Tyler's stomach drops at the sound of your cracked voice, the words sending a pang through him. He knew you were upset, but he hadn't expected your request.

He reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "No," he murmurs, his voice firm yet gentle. "I don't want to pretend, not about this. Not with you."

“Tyler..” you murmur, grabbing his wrist gently as you pull his hand away from you. Tyler's hand tingles at the feel of your hand grasping his wrist, the touch sending a jolt through him. Despite your distance, he can't help but crave your touch.

He clenches his jaw, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "No, listen to me," he says firmly, his eyes glued to yours. "We're not just gonna gloss over this like it's nothing. Not after what happened."

“But nothing happened.” you protest, avoiding his gaze. Tyler's frustration flares at your protest, his eyes narrowing.

"Nothing happened?" he echoes, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You're kidding me, right? You were in my arms, pressed against me, and nothing happened?" He huffs in frustration, raking a hand through his hair. "Dammit, you’re pissing me off. Stop acting like this doesn't mean something."

“But *you* don’t want it.” you murmur, turning your back to him once again. Tyler's anger immediately extinguishes at your murmured words, guilt seizing him like a vice.

He reaches out, grabbing your shoulder to turn you back towards him, his grip gentle but firm. "I never said that," he refutes, his tone sharp. "I *do* want you. You have no idea how badly I want you…"

“But you,” you sigh, turning to face him. “Then why did you want me to give you space? I thought..” your eyebrows furrow as you trail off.

"Because, I'm trying to keep my head straight,” he begins, his voice strained. “You drive me crazy, you know that? The way you feel in my arms, your scent, your skin against mine... It's like I'm losing control when I'm near you." you look up at him, eyes vulnerable as you chew on your bottom lip.

Tyler's heart clenches as he looks into your vulnerable eyes, the sight sending a wave of protectiveness through him. He gently brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, stilling your nervous habit.

"Stop biting your lip," he mutters gently, his voice gruff. "You'll make it bleed." you open your mouth to protest, but find your mind clouded with his touch.

Tyler watches as your mouth opens, the sight sending a jolt of heat through him. His thumb rests on your lip, the skin of your mouth unbelievably soft under his touch.

He swallows hard, fighting the mounting tension between you. "Don't tempt me…" he whispers, his voice strained. "You've no clue what you do to me.."

“Tyler..” you move closer to him, eyebrows furrowing. “Please, don't push me away this time..” you cup his cheek, lips hovering over his. A shudder runs through Tyler at your proximity, and he almost gasps aloud as your lips hover millimeters from his. His pulse races, his body begging for more of your touch.

“You're killing me,” he mutters hoarsely, his hand coming up to rest on your wrist. “I'm trying… to be good…” He closes his eyes, fighting against the overwhelming urge to close the distance between you with a kiss.

You press your lips to his in a gentle kiss, hesitating to move any closer until he reacts. Tyler lets out a low, guttural sound as your lips meet his, his mind momentarily shorting out. The sensation of your kiss sparks a fire within him, every nerve ending singing to life.

His hand tightens around your wrist, holding your hand against his face. He responds to the kiss tentatively at first, his lips moving against yours in a feather-light touch. But as the tension mounts, so does the desperation in his movements. He deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips.

You moan as his tongue fights with yours, settling on his lap, your arms moving to wrap around his neck. Tyler groans as you moan into his mouth, the sound driving him wild. He slides his hands around your waist, settling you on his lap.

He feels like he can't get close enough to you, his hands clutching at your sides as his tongue explores your mouth. He pulls you against him, his body pressed against yours, desperately seeking more contact.

You pull back, gasping for air. Tyler follows your mouth as you pull back, unwilling to let you go. He's breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he gasps for air.

He rests his forehead against yours, his eyes dark and filled with desire. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" he murmurs huskily, his hands still gripping your hips.

“I want you,” you slip your hands into his hair, pressing your chest against his. Tyler's breath catches in his throat as you tangle your hands in his hair, your body pressing against his. The feel of your chest against his is maddening, his body responding instantly.

"You have me," he murmurs, his words a guttural response. His hands roam your body, desperate to touch every inch of you. "You have me completely, sweetheart."

“That's not what I mean,” you whine, guiding his hands up your shirt as you press kisses to his neck.

Tyler groans as you guide his hands under your shirt, the feel of your skin against his driving him wild. Your kisses on his neck send a shiver through him, his breathing becoming faster and more erratic.

"What... what do you mean then?" he asks, his voice strained as his hands explore the bare skin of your torso. You pull your shirt away, exposing yourself to him fully.

“I want you.. To stop trying to control your desire..” you look at him with a needy gaze.

Tyler's eyes darken as you pull away your shirt, his gaze drinking in every inch of your exposed skin. The sight of you, bare before him, sends a jolt of pure, primal desire through him. He inhales sharply, his hands gripping your hips, his voice strangled. "Are you... are you sure about this?" he manages to ask, resisting the wild urge to claim you right there.

“Please don’t make me beg,” you bring his hands to your breasts, your hips grinding down against his with desperation.

The feel of your hips grinding against his elicits a guttural moan from deep in Tyler's chest, his hands involuntarily squeezing your breasts.

He grits his teeth, his body taut and strained. "You're... damn, you're gonna kill me," he growls, his voice thick with barely-controlled lust. "I need you... but I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart..."

“Ty, please. I need you..” With a feral groan, Tyler scoops you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He strides out of the bathroom, the urgency in his steps echoing his racing heart. Gently, he sets you down on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight.

Your eyes lock with his, the heat between you threatening to set the room on fire. He leans over you, his hand sliding under the pillow to prop your head up, his gaze never leaving yours. The intensity of his stare sends a thrill down your spine, your breath hitching in anticipation.

Rain continues to pound against the motel window, the rhythm of the drops mirroring the thunder of his heart. Tyler's rough, calloused thumb traces the outline of your panties, the fabric already damp from your arousal. He leans in, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep, claiming you as his own.

You arch your back, pushing your breasts against his chest, the friction causing a delicious ache. He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your neck, and whispers, "You're mine now, understand?" His voice is a mix of demand and passion, leaving no room for doubt.

With a need that seemed to have been building for an eternity, Tyler slides out of his own damp clothes, his eyes never leaving you. His movements are swift and sure, a silent declaration of his intentions. He kneels between your thighs, parting them gently, and your breath catches in your throat as his warm mouth descends on your center.

The sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making your toes curl and your back arch. His touch is tender yet insistent, as if he's been craving this moment for just as long as you have. He laps at you with a passionate hunger, exploring every fold and crevice with a finesse that makes your eyes roll back in your head.

You moan, your nails digging into the mattress as he worships you with his mouth, your body responding to his every touch, his every caress. The storm outside seems to echo the tumult within the room, the thunder a backdrop to the symphony of your gasps and his murmurs of satisfaction. As Tyler's tongue works its magic, the only thing that matters is the here and now, the fiery connection that burns brighter than any lightning bolt.

As the storm outside rages on, Tyler continues to taste the sweetness of your release, his tongue lapping at you greedily. Your body shudders and arches off the bed, your nails digging into the mattress as you cry out his name.

He grips your hips tightly, not letting you pull away from the intense pleasure he's giving you. His eyes meet yours, dark with lust and satisfaction as he watches the ecstasy play out on your face. You're lost in the moment, your climax like a powerful tempest crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

As the last waves of pleasure subside, Tyler kisses his way up your body, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses along your skin, savoring every inch of you. His strong arms lift you off the bed, cradling you as he stands, his eyes never leaving yours, the heat between you more potent than the electricity in the air outside.

With a renewed sense of urgency, you shift down Tyler's body, your eyes never leaving his. You take his erection in your hand, the heat and firmness of him making your stomach flutter. His eyes widen, his breath catching as your touch sends a shiver through him.

You lean in, placing a gentle kiss on the tip before taking him into your mouth, your hand moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Tyler's hips buck slightly, his eyes squeezing shut as a groan rips from his chest. The sound is like music to your ears, spurring you on as you deepen the kiss, taking him deeper into your mouth.

His hands find their way into your hair, his grip tightening as your tongue swirls around his length. The storm outside seems to crescendo with every stroke, the thunder echoing the beating of your hearts in perfect harmony.

His breathing becomes ragged, his body tensing with each movement of your mouth, each flick of your tongue. It's a dance of passion, a silent conversation of need and want, and Tyler is powerless to resist the siren call of your touch.

You continue to suck him off with an enthusiasm that speaks of a deep-seated desire, your eyes locked on his as the storm outside mirrors the tempest within the room. Tyler's hips stutter, and with a ragged groan, he pulls your lips away, his chest heaving.

He captures your mouth in a desperate kiss, his hands moving to cradle your face as his body tenses. His cock throbs in your hand, and with a few more strokes, he releases a hot, thick rope of cum that you catch in your palm. His grip on your face tightens as he gasps into your mouth, the taste of him mingling with the saltiness of the air between you.

The storm outside seems to hold its breath, the thunder pausing for a moment as if in awe of the power of your shared passion. His body relaxes, and he collapses back onto the bed, pulling you with him.

You lay there, panting, your heart racing as the storm outside slowly begins to abate, leaving in its wake a tension-filled silence filled only with the sound of your intertwined breathing. The room is a cocoon of heat and desire, the air thick with the scent of sex and the promise of more to come.

With the storm outside now a distant rumble, Tyler pulls you closer, the warmth of your bodies melding together as one. His strong arms encircle you, and you feel the rapid thump of his heartbeat against your chest, matching the tempo of your own.

He gently rolls you onto your side, spooning you as he lays his head on the pillow, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "We need to get some rest," he says, his breath warm against your neck. "Tomorrow's another day of chasing storms, and I need you by my side."

His words are a comforting balm to the storm of emotions swirling within you, the passion of the moment giving way to a gentle, post-coital haze. You nod, nestling deeper into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. His grip tightens for a brief moment before loosening slightly, allowing you to breathe, to feel the weight of his love surrounding you.

You close your eyes, your body finally relaxing into the welcoming embrace of sleep, the steady beat of Tyler's heart lulling you into a peaceful oblivion. The motel room, once cold and uninviting, now feels like home, the thunder outside a gentle lullaby serenading the beginnings of a love that promises to be as fierce and unpredictable as the storms you chase together.

As your ass brushes against his now hardening cock, Tyler's body stiffens and he groans softly into your ear, his breath hot and shaky. You feel his need, his want, and your own desire stirs once more, a sweet ache blooming in your core.

You reach back, your hand finding him, and guide him to your wet, welcoming entrance. He's thick and heavy in your hand, and the anticipation is almost too much to bear. You lean into him, pressing your back against his chest as you align him with your body, feeling his heat and his need.

With a gentle push, you invite him in, the feeling of him filling you up making you gasp. Tyler's arms tighten around you, his breathing hitching as he sinks into your warmth, the storm outside a distant echo to the tempest of passion within the room. His hips move in a slow, steady rhythm, the sound of rain and thunder mingling with the slap of skin on skin.

You moan, the pleasure of his possession a sweet agony that sends waves of ecstasy through you, your body moving in perfect sync with his, the storm outside a testament to the intensity of your union.

The tender strokes of Tyler's cock inside you elicit moans that grow increasingly needy, the tempo of the storm outside matching the rhythm of your bodies. Each thrust is a declaration of his love, a gentle reminder of the passion that burns between you.

His fingers trace the curve of your hip, his other hand cupping your breast, the softness of your skin a stark contrast to the hardness of his grip. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his breath hot and ragged as he worships your body with his own. The tender love in his touch is a stark contrast to the wildness of your earlier encounter, yet the intensity of your connection remains unchanged.

Your hips rock back to meet his, the slickness of your arousal guiding him deeper with every movement. The storm outside may be fading, but the storm of passion within the room shows no signs of abating, the thunder a constant reminder of the powerful bond that you've forged.

Tyler's rhythm picks up, his hips slamming into yours with a ferocity that matches the dying storm outside. You feel him swell inside you, his strokes growing more intense as he hits your g-spot with every thrust. The pleasure is so intense, your eyes roll back in your head, and you let out a strangled cry.

The storm's final roar is nothing compared to the thunderous crescendo of your orgasm, your body tightening around him, your muscles clenching him tightly. Tyler grunts, his own release imminent, his hands gripping your hips as he drives into you, one last time, burying himself deep.

With a final, guttural groan, he spills inside you, his hot cum filling you up as your walls pulse around him. The room falls still, the only sounds are the steady patter of rain and the rapid thump of your hearts, synchronized in the aftermath of your passionate storm.

He stays inside for a while, kissing your shoulders and neck gently before he pulls out. “Princess, we really have to sleep now.” He sighs softly, laying on his back and pulling you to his chest.

Your cheek presses against his shoulder as you cuddle closer. “Mhm, fine.. Goodnight Ty.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” he kisses the top of your head.

[sailor-cerise]

I got pretty lucky to have her as my mom ❤️

The first conversation she shared that happened because I was talking about explaining trans-ness to a "confused but got the spirit" friend, when I was in college

Me: so I mentioned how I have a really strong sense of my gender, as a cis woman, as an example of how gender identity isn't unique to trans folks. Do you know what I mean about strongly identifying as a woman, mama? I know not all women do

Her: actually, no -- the opposite. For four solid years in my early 20s I was pretty sure I was a man, or at least not a woman. I still feel like that sometimes, but I also more strongly identify as a mother, and it's less important to me right now because I'm not in a relationship or looking for one. To be honest, if I were healthy I'd probably explore it more, but I'm content as-is. I know I'm me.

And in a later conversation, talking about her bisexuality: I definitely have a type for women, but it's not about body type or anything -- it's when she's got that strong feminine energy in a way that makes me feel like a man, in a good way.

she was always age-appropriately frank about things related to sex and relationships, and I also really learned from her how to separate discussion of sex and sexuality from being sexual. Like the difference between saying "I have food poisoning, ugh" and a graphic description of your unpleasant morning.

You don't ask about your daughter's sex life, but you can talk about enthusiastic consent, and about how sex and love CAN go together but don't HAVE to, and that what matters is being safe, respecting each other, honesty, and enjoying yourself.

MULTIGENDER LORDE MOMENT???!!!!